Posted 15/12/2018
RESOLVE II
12.
The aftermath of the battle droid attack on the Jedi Temple was one of widespread panic and confusion. While the Jedi retained their fabled calm and began repairs on their sacred home, the Republic was in an uproar over the unprovoked and vicious assault on their peacekeepers. To make matters worse, and even more unstable in debates and political mudslinging, no one had claimed responsibility. Baktoid issued a statement denying any claim to the transports and droids used, citing that they don't police their customers. The outrage bred confusion, and the confusion gave way to irrationality.
Obi-Wan stared worriedly at yet another speculative holonet news report while he waited in the, thankfully undamaged, tech division of the Jedi Temple. In his hand he held fast to the small datacard he'd found in Tyro's puzzle box during the trip to Kamino. He'd all but forgotten about it during the events since.
A sigh escaped him. The mental exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. From battling Fett, to discovering Anakin's break, having to go so far as to fight his padawan, only to see him disappear, and then having to defend the Jedi Temple from an army of droids. All in the span of a few days.
Obi-Wan wanted to sleep.
But he was a Jedi, and Jedi were known to go extraordinarily long without sleep when the situation demanded it. And, well, Obi-Wan could concede that the situation demanded it. He centred himself within the Force, drew in its calming warmth, and went about his day.
"Master Kenobi, sorry for the delay," Jordi Milos, a senior padawan with a particular knack for anything tech-related, greeted him with a quick bow. His rough appearance told Obi-Wan that the young man hadn't gotten much rest either.
"It's all right, Jordi. I understand this must be a busy time for you, but I need something decrypted immediately," Obi-Wan held out the datacard to the flustered padawan.
"Master, forgive me, bu—"
"Whatever's on here could lead to uncovering who's behind all of this," Obi-Wan gestured vaguely around them, where dust and debris still lay as evidence of the assault on the Jedi Temple. "It's important."
"Understood, master," Jordi sighed. "I'll start on it immediately."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan gave Jordi's shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze. "Please send me the decrypted file as soon as you've cracked it."
"Will do, master."
Obi-Wan walked away with a stride belonging to a man on a mission. In truth, he wanted to get away from the sound of cleaning and maintenance droids, the sound of broken duracrete and transparisteel being shovelled, and the cacophony of volunteer construction crews brought in to help provide relief to the Jedi.
They were seen in the most damaged hallways, standing out in their bright orange helms and vests, taking measurements and talking as though it were just another job. But it was the Jedi Temple, and the calming halls had turned into a discordant mess of strangeness. Obi-Wan needed to get away.
Too much had changed too quickly.
By some fortune the section holding the arboretum hadn't suffered any damage. Obi-Wan slowed his quick pace once he'd sequestered himself in an alcove formed by sloping rock and several trees. He leaned his back against the trunk of the largest and slid down to the ground. Taking deep breaths he closed his eyes, and waited.
Masters Yoda and Windu were observing an emergency Senate meeting. In light of the attack they had postponed Obi-Wan's debriefing regarding his padawan. A fallen, wayward apprentice was not the biggest problem the council currently faced. Not even if that padawan happened to be Anakin Skywalker.
Obi-Wan wondered where Anakin was at that very moment. Had he heard about the attack on the Temple yet? It was all over the holonet. Had the boy calmed down enough to think about what he would do next? Would he see the errors in judgement he'd displayed and return to the Jedi to face censure?
Those questions would remain unanswered, and Obi-Wan knew that he would eventually have to come to terms with everything that had happened. It didn't matter how fast the world decided to move around him, Obi-Wan knew he had to stay in pace with it.
He needed to clear his mind of his misgivings, his sadness, and of all self-destructive thoughts of failure. The Jedi were facing a crisis and he needed to stand strong as a Master of the Jedi Order.
He listened to the gentle rustle of the leaves, and slipped into a shallow meditation. Hours passed, and still Obi-Wan sat in silence.
"Help me understand, Obi-Wan," the imploring voice of Siri Tachi interrupted his meditations in the afternoon.
He opened his eyes to see her standing in front of him. She looked like many Jedi did that day. Disillusioned, concerned, fatigued, but beneath that Siri's eyes held a hint of anger as well.
"You are upset with me," Obi-Wan quietly stated the obvious. She had been giving him the coldest of shoulders since they left Tatooine. The council debriefing and subsequent droid attack hadn't left a lot of time for them to talk out their differences.
"Yes," Siri said. She did not allow her feelings to colour her tone, choosing instead to remain calm. "I cannot fathom why you would have let Anakin go after he committed murder. That as good as makes you complicit. And I know that's not the kind of man you are."
"He is a deeply troubled boy," Obi-Wan's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Deeply troubled boys need guidance," Siri argued. "What will he do next, now that you've let him off his leash?"
"An interesting choice of words," Obi-Wan sighed. "That's just it, Siri. His whole life someone was trying to control him. First he was a slave. Then he became a Jedi, where even how he's supposed to think was dictated to him. It was difficult enough for him to work through our philosophies after his unconventional upbringing, but then to be kidnapped by the Sith, and to have them try to control him as well. Was I supposed to try and do the same?
"Perhaps he was never meant to belong to either the Jedi or the Sith."
"You're treading awfully close to heresy, Obi-Wan," Siri sat down.
"Am I. . ." Obi-Wan plucked a blade of grass from the earth beneath him. "Jedi, Sith. . . Without the Force neither would exist."
"Obi-Wan," Siri's voice held a note of warning.
"Has anyone ever considered what the phrase 'bring balance to the Force' even means? Maybe Anakin, if he truly is the one of prophecy, was never meant to align himself with either side."
"What are you saying?" The incredulity Siri felt emanated from her voice.
"I'm saying that with all the changes the Jedi Order has gone through, throughout its long history, that perhaps the meaning of true balance has gotten lost along the path somewhere," Obi-Wan said.
"Are you even listening to yourself right now?" Siri grabbed Obi-Wan's wrist. Her grip was like a vice, almost desperate.
"The code has seen as many changes as the Republic has seen. Our Order has made changes dictated to us by politicians. And yet we still claim to follow the will of the Force? How could we possibly be so arrogant as to believe that," Obi-Wan spoke with the calm tone of a completely rational man, but his words were inflammatory. "We serve the greater good, but we've allowed blinders to be placed over our eyes. We've become complacent."
"Is that why you let him go?" Siri asked, forcing her voice low, but it nonetheless dripped with venom. "To make some sort of statement?"
"No," Obi-Wan turned and faced her stormy eyes with his own steady ones. "I let him go for precisely the reason I told the council last night."
"A feeling," Siri scoffed.
"The Force speaks to us all in different ways," Obi-Wan said, voice still calm, but brows drawing down. "My journey is different from yours, and Anakin's will be different from any Force-sensitive's before him. It's not my place to question where the Force leads him."
"It's easy to brush off responsibility and call it the Force's bidding," Siri said.
"Is that truly what you think I am doing?" Obi-Wan asked, incredulous. "Brushing off responsibility?"
Siri sat motionless. A bitter retort was on the tip of her tongue, but she'd known Obi-Wan since childhood. She knew him almost as well as she knew herself. "No," she sighed. "No, that's not what I think. You've never ignored your responsibilities, and I was foolish for insinuating as much. I just find it all difficult to understand. If Anakin is the Force's chosen champion, why would it lead him down such a dark path?"
"Perhaps so that he can understand it," Obi-Wan said, having wondered the same thing himself. "If he's supposed to bring balance, how can he if he doesn't have the wisdom to know what to do? Yes, he may have lost his way now. But that is how we learn, is it not?"
"Yes," Siri whispered. She rubbed her hands together in the sudden chill. The temple's atmospheric regulators were not functioning optimally after the attack.
"He doesn't belong to the Jedi," Obi-Wan whispered. "For the first time in his life he gets to choose his own path. Letting him go was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."
Siri shook her head, a breath of sad laughter escaping her as she turned to face Obi-Wan. "Histories will be written about you someday, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"Oh I certainly hope not," Obi-Wan said, training his thoughtful gaze on Siri's form. "What makes you say that?"
Siri's soft grin died on her lips. "You don't see it, do you?" She said. "The outcome is still unknown, but you've been affecting change within the Jedi Order since the day you struck down that Sith Lord on Naboo and took Anakin Skywalker as your padawan. Whatever the Force has planned for that boy, you are a part of it.
"And history will remember that."
Siri's earnest words sounded sinister to Obi-Wan's ears.
He put it out of his mind.
We're reporting live from the Coruscant Senate Building, where mere moments ago deliberations over the Military Creation Act finally reached its conclusion with a vote that has made history.
In light of the ruthless and unprovoked attack on the Jedi Order late last night, widely believed to have been perpetrated by the Confederacy of Independent Systems, an emergency Senate meeting was called, where both parties for and against the creation of an army of the Republic engaged in a debate lasting just over eleven hours. The vote occurred late this afternoon where a swing was seen among much of the opposition, resulting in an overwhelming majority vote for the creation of an Army of the Republic.
Oh, hold on. . . I've just received word that the Senate has concluded the matter and, yes, here they come. That's Senator Amidala. Senator Amidala! Do you have a few words to spare? What are your thoughts concerning the outcome of this historical vote?
It is indeed historical. Today will be remembered as the day the Republic allowed itself to be ruled by fear.
But should we not defend ourselves from terrorist actions? You yourself faced a similar crisis as Naboo's leader some ten years previous. How is this different?
Despite the attack on their sacred home, the Jedi have advocated against the creation of this army, because they understand that you cannot meet violence with more violence if you expect to protect what you hold most dear. Yes, sometimes we have to take up arms to defend our homes, but creating this army was premature. We have received no declaration of war. This was not an attack on Coruscant or the Republic. It was an isolated attack on the Jedi Order, perpetrated by an unknown faction. To place responsibility upon the CIS without concrete proof is insulting and inviting a conflict that will see more systems secede.
But would this not also lighten the strain of our hard-working peacekeepers?
You are naïve if you believe that. The Jedi operate under a strict code that actively guides them to find solutions that will preserve life. What the Senate has just voted into creation will not follow the same code. Armies bring destruction, and I can only pray that this one will be commanded with wisdom rivalling that of the wisest Jedi Masters.
You have great respect for the Jedi, Senator?
Of course I do. Ten years ago a Jedi Master sacrificed his life to protect Naboo's sovereignty—
Mace Windu shut the holonet off with a flick of his wrist. The news broadcast disappeared, and the council chambers was left to embody a tense stillness. Yoda sat quietly in his chair, slowly twisting his gimer stick in his hands. Ki-Adi-Mundi sat with one arm draped over his stomach, the other elbow was propped upon the armrest with a finger stroking the underside of his chin as thoughts raced through his Cerean mind. Adi Gallia sat with one leg crossed over the other as she simply stared into space, hands folded neatly in her lap.
"That was only the start," Mace broke the silence. The hour was late. Coruscant's sun had set again on the Jedi Temple. Construction crews had retreated for the night, leaving an unnatural stillness behind. Quiet the temple may have been once more, but it was far from tranquil.
The council doors slid open to admit Obi-Wan Kenobi to the floor for the second time that rotation. He bowed to the four council masters present, privately wondering why there were only four of them present. He held his tongue, waiting until they addressed him.
"We did not call you here to discuss your padawan," Mace began. "Right now we have more important things to discuss, but that does not mean we won't discuss Tatooine later." The Master of the Order's dark eyes held disapproval and warning.
Obi-Wan accepted the unspoken censure with lowered eyes and a nod.
"Stare not at the floor, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda said. Immediately Obi-Wan's eyes flew up to meet the ancient Jedi's. "Tired, you are."
"My fatigue is of no consequence in the present moment, master," Obi-Wan said.
"When's the last time you slept?" Mace asked, brows raised and mouth pulled to one side.
"Before I set out for Kamino," Obi-Wan dutifully replied.
"You set out for Kamino seven days ago," Mace said, frowning.
"Yes well," a grin made it's way onto Obi-Wan's face. "I've been a little busy."
Yoda chuckled with that endearing growl of his while Mace just shook his head and rubbed a hand across his smooth face. Ki-Adi-Mundi said nothing, but Adi Galia gave Obi-Wan a fond smile. She had gone on many joint missions with Qui-Gon Jinn during Obi-Wan's apprenticeship, and had watched him grow from an uncertain boy into a confident and decisive man.
"Busy you have been, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda said. "More work for you we have, I fear."
"I welcome the work, master," Obi-Wan said, and the statement was loaded with more than just his acceptance of the task they had for him. Yoda could see that Obi-Wan wanted distraction. He did not approve of the way in which the young Jedi Master was dealing with his recent ordeals, and he felt sorrow that the situation had become such that Obi-Wan could not be given the respite he so sorely needed.
"Have you kept up with the news today?" Mace asked.
"I have," Obi-Wan said.
"Then you know that two era defining decisions were made in the Senate today," Ki-Adi-Mundi's voice contained a weary note.
"Yes, master," Obi-Wan said, preventing a sigh from escaping him. "Our situation has been used to approve the creation of a Republic army, and also to give Supreme Chancellor Palpatine emergency power until the. . . crisis. . . has been resolved."
"And what are your thoughts on the matter?" Adi Galia asked.
"It doesn't seem. . ." Obi-Wan trailed off, thinking how best to phrase the indistinct feeling that welled in his chest ever since the news was first broadcast over the holonet. "Considering what we discovered about Master Sifo-Dyas and Kamino, I cannot help but feel that there is some sort of deception at work here. Someone is pulling strings and getting their way."
"The Sith?" Mace leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Possibly," Obi-Wan folded his hands into opposite sleeves, flinching slightly at the pull of burnt skin on his left arm. "We've made strides, but we're no closer to discovering the identity of the Sith Master. He's clearly been patiently laying plans for decades. Can we even be certain that Master Sifo-Dyas' visions of the future were born from the Force?"
"What are you implying, Obi-Wan?" Adi asked, brows furrowed.
"Sifo-Dyas acted in a certain way because of what he believed the Force revealed to him. I question whether those visions were pure, or planted."
"Planted by the Sith?" Mace asked, skeptical.
"Surely Sifo-Dyas or another master would have noticed a dark influence upon him if that were true," Ki-Adi-Mundi said.
"Hmm, difficult to see the corruption of the dark side is," Yoda said. "And not unheard of such manipulation is."
"If that is indeed what happened, then the Sith are far more cunning and deceitful than we anticipated," Mace sighed.
"Speculation won't aid us now," Ki-Adi-Mundi pulled at his beard. "The present problem we need to address is the sharing of information with the Chancellor."
"Is it not all-encompassing, master?" Obi-Wan asked, taking a shuffling step to fully face the Cerean master. "Speculation and instinct may be the only way to prepare ourselves."
"Prepare ourselves for what?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.
For a moment Obi-Wan held his silence. He did not know if he was simply paranoid, but a darkness loomed in the Force. He felt it. The void. It was cold, uninviting, foreboding, and it emanated a sense of danger that Obi-Wan was unfamiliar with. Perhaps he was simply projecting his own fears into the Force, but he could not be certain. Everything was so clouded.
"To survive," Obi-Wan spoke into the patient silence of the council chamber. "For our Order to survive."
"You truly believe it is that dire?" Adi Galia shifted in her seat, her striking blue eyes held focused intensity.
"What we know for fact is that the Sith have resurfaced," Obi-Wan said. "What we can assume is that what they desire most is revenge against the Jedi. Their mantras are self-centred epithets. In the very first line they claim that peace is a lie. They are the antithesis of everything the Jedi believe, and we have all but destroyed them in the past in order to preserve life. Now, they have had a thousand years to plan their vengeance.
"Such patience must not be underestimated, masters."
The four council members sat in silence, considering Obi-Wan's words. For his part, Obi-Wan did not understand why they appeared to value his opinions so. Perhaps Siri was right. Perhaps Naboo bound him to the Sith in a way that no one could have foreseen. Perhaps the council thought he had insights which they did not. The very thought set a chill in Obi-Wan's bones.
"Much wisdom you have, Obi-Wan," Master Yoda said, as though he'd heard Obi-Wan's thoughts. "Underestimate the Sith, we must not. Prepare for evacuation, we must."
"Evacuation?" Mace sat up straight, startled by his old master's sudden declaration. "Master Yoda, that seems a little extreme."
"Command to evacuate, I did not," Yoda lightly tapped his gimer stick on the floor. "But prepared we must be."
"All right," Mace sighed. "Force help us if it comes down to abandoning the temple."
"Perhaps we should move on to the matter of sharing information with the Chancellor?" Ki-Adi-Mundi suggested.
A tense stillness had settled within the chamber, the kind that threatened to freeze the blood in one's veins. Obi-Wan forced himself to relax. He never thought he'd bear witness to such dire conversations. Yet there he stood, not simply observing the conversation, but participating in it.
"Yes," Mace said. "I have a meeting with the Chancellor tomorrow morning. In the interest of resolving this problem quickly and restoring democracy as soon as possible, the council has decided to share all the information we've gathered. Master Kenobi, since you've been at the forefront of collecting much of the intelligence we have, I would like you to accompany me to fill in any gaps."
"Very well, master," Obi-Wan said.
"I'll send you the details shortly," Mace said. "In the meantime, see a healer for that arm and then get some actual sleep. Meditation will only cut it for so long."
Vokara Che stood in the crumpled remains of the Halls of Healing gardens. The once tranquil grove was littered with dust, broken plants, and the shattered remains of the wall separating the garden from the concourse that lay behind it. She'd refused to let the construction crews, or even droids, clean up the destruction while she and her team of temple healers were still treating the injured.
Fortunately the healing halls lay behind thick durasteel walls, and apart from a few supplies that got knocked over in the concussive tremors resulting from rocket blasts, the Halls of Healing were undamaged.
It was the first moment in an entire rotation that Vokara had time to stop and think. She wiped away the tears that threatened to fall before they could succumb to gravity's pull. It would not do to break down when any moment an apprentice healer could come looking for her to ask for assistance. She had to be a source of strength to those around her.
A noise, the sound of transparisteel sliding across duracrete drew her attention to the hole in the garden wall. Obi-Wan Kenobi stood there, half unbalanced as he righted himself after nearly tripping over a chunk of debris.
"Kenobi," she sighed by way of greeting and propped one hand on her hip, while the other gently massaged her temple.
"Ah, sorry if I startled you," Obi-Wan said.
"This is a rather unconventional route to take to the healers," Vokara said, frowning.
"Yes, well," Obi-Wan walked closer, scratching at his beard as he surveyed the damage. "This. . . entrance, I suppose. . . was closer than the main one. And to be frank I had hoped to keep Master Windu's request that I see a healer as a brief visit with an apprentice. I've already treated my own wounds, and after yesterday I'm sure you're all very busy in here."
"Stop talking and come with me, Kenobi," Vokara turned on her heel and walked back inside the halls. "You look about as tired as I feel, and I'm short on patience. If Master Windu himself told you to come here I'm sure he has his reasons."
She led him to a small examination room a few paces down the first hallway left from the gardens, and told him to take off his cloak and sit on the examination table. He complied without fuss.
"I'm not even touching you and I can feel your injuries are not insignificant," Vokara moved to stand in front of Obi-Wan, bringing her hands to either side of his neck.
"It's been a rough week," Obi-Wan conceded. "The plasma burn on my left arm is probably the worst of it."
"And the concussion," Vokara said, noticing Obi-Wan's slight grimace. Her lip curled up at the side, but her slight amusement quickly turned bitter. "You should know by now that nothing gets past me."
"Yes master," Obi-Wan said. "It's not that I don't value your care, or that I am wilfully neglectful with my own health. . . There is just so much to do."
"I know," Vokara sighed. "Take off your tunics so I can get a closer look at this burn."
Obi-Wan quickly relieved himself of tabards and outer tunics. When he took off the thin inner tunic he did not expect to see the great purpling on his ribs. "Well, that's new," he said.
"Dear me," Vokara sighed again. "These bruises are a few days old at least. How did you not notice?"
"I was employing field pain suppressant techniques throughout my wakeful stint the past week, and I don't make it a habit of admiring my own body," Obi-Wan jokingly said. "I suppose I would have dropped already if it were serious."
"Indeed," Vokara said. "You're lucky. Nothing is broken. And that cut on your forehead. . . what on earth have you been up to?"
"I had a tussle with a rather determined bounty hunter in the sopping rain," Obi-Wan said, calmly watching as Vokara unbound the bandage he'd wrapped around the wound on his left arm.
"Obi-Wan," she said, frowning as the wound was revealed. "I was expecting a blaster wound, but this is a lightsaber burn."
Obi-Wan said nothing.
Vokara took a deep breath. "It's not too late to prevent the cut on your forehead from scarring, but there's nothing I can do about the lightsaber wound. That one will certainly scar."
"As it should," Obi-Wan said.
Vokara's frown deepened. She could sense the disquiet in the man's mind. "I would like to admit you."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," Obi-Wan immediately said. "Tomorrow morning I am to accompany Master Windu to a meeting with Chancellor Palpatine."
"Then at least stay here for the night and allow me to treat your injuries properly," Vokara demanded.
"You're tired, master," Obi-Wan said. "Save your energy for those on death's door."
"My team has everything well in hand," Vokara said, her voice strong. "I have time and energy enough to make sure you're set right before the morning. Lie down, sleep, and let me do what I was meant to."
A battle of wills endured as they stared at one another. Both were equally stubborn, but it was Obi-Wan who looked away first.
"All right, Master Che," he said. "You win, but. . . can you make sure I don't dream?"
It was such a vulnerable request that Vokara lost her voice, and simply stared as Obi-Wan grabbed a pillow from where it had fallen on the floor. Once he'd settled onto the narrow bed—that really wasn't meant for sleeping on, but with limited room elsewhere in the Halls of Healing she wasn't about to argue against his quick compliance—her words returned to her.
"Yes," she said. "That I can do."
She watched as he nodded his head and closed his eyes. His fatigue pulled him into sleep almost immediately. Vokara gently set to work.
In sleep the man looked terribly young, she noted. Yet his exhaustion was palpable. He'd been through much, and somehow he was still a pillar of strength and confidence, especially among the younger Jedi. They looked up to him, but Vokara had seen first hand how he humbly brushed aside their admiration.
He was only thirty-four years old, but Vokara knew that worth and wisdom was not tied to age. She was certain that the young master, in some way, had been chosen by the Force.
She hoped he would be able to endure past the hardships the Force would inevitably guide him through.