Chapter 16
Plagueis gives the Sun Guards the night off, and the only other intelligence in the sprawling apartment is the droid 11-4D, their servant for the occasion, pouring wine into expensive glassware as they remove their cloaks.
"Sullustan," Plagueis says, holding the glass up to the light and swirling its claret contents. "More than half a century old."
"A toast, then," Sidious replies. "To the culmination of decades of brilliant planning and execution."
"And to the new meaning we will tomorrow impart to the Rule of Two."
They drain their glasses, and 11-4D immediately refills them.
"Only you could have brought this to fruition, Darth Plagueis," Sidious says, settling into a chair. "I will endeavor to live up your expectations and fulfill my responsibility."
Plagueis takes the compliment in stride, neither haughty nor embarrassed.
"With my guidance and your charisma, we will soon be in a position to initiate the final act of the Grand Plan." Making himself more comfortable on the couch, he signals for 11-4D to open a second bottle of the vintage.
"Have you given thought to what you will say tomorrow?"
"I have prepared some remarks," Sidious says. "Shall I spoil the surprise?"
"Why not."
Sidious takes a moment to compose himself. "To begin, I thought I would say, that, while we in the Senate have managed to keep the Republic intact for a thousand years, we would never have been able to do so without the assistance of a few beings, largely invisible to the public eye, whose accomplishments now need to be brought into the light of day."
Plagueis smiles. "I'm pleased. Go on."
Speaking in a low monotone, Sidious says, "Hego Damask is one of those beings. It was Hego Damask who was responsible for overseeing development of the Republic Reserve Administration and for providing financial support for the Resettlement Acts that enabled beings to blaze new hyperspace routes to the outlying systems and colonize distant worlds."
"That will come as a revelation to some."
"In a similar fashion, it was Hego Damask who transformed the Trade Federation—"
"No, no," Plagueis interrupts. "Now is not the time to mention the Trade Federation."
"I thought—"
"I don't see any problem with calling attention to the arrangements I facilitated between the Republic and the Corporate Alliance and the Techno Union. But we must take care to avoid areas of controversy."
"Of course," Sidious says as if chastised. "I was speaking off the top of my head."
"Try a different approach."
So Sidious do.
And as the night wears on, he continues to amend and improvise, touching on Damask's childhood on Mygeeto and the elder Damask's contributions to the InterGalactic Banking Clan during his term as co-chair. Wineglass in hand, Sidious paces the richly carpeted floor, often vacillating between confidence and misgiving. More than once, Plagueis voices satisfaction with everything he heard, but he urged Sidious to save his energy for the morning.
By then, though, Sidious is too wound up to heed the advice and keeps reworking the order of the remarks and the emphasis he gave to certain points.
The droid brings out a third, then a fourth bottle of the Sullustan wine.
Pleasantly intoxicated, Plagueis, who wants nothing more than to revel in the sweet taste of victory, is beginning to find his collaborator's performance exhausting, and wants nothing more than to close his eyes and drift into imaginings of his march into the Senate Rotunda; the looks of surprise, astonishment, and trepidation on the faces of the gathered Senators; his long-anticipated emergence from the shadows; his ascension to galactic power…
Unfortunately, Sidious won't let him.
"That's enough for now," Plagueis tries one final time. "You should probably return home and get at least a few hours' rest before—"
"Just one more time—from the beginning."
"The beginning?"
"Lord Plagueis, you said you wouldn't rest until our win was a matter of fact."
"So it is, and so I shall, Darth Sidious."
"Then let us celebrate that, as well." Sidious beckons to 11-4D. "Fill our glasses, droid."
With dreamy weariness beginning to get the better of him, it is all Plagueis could do to lift the glass to his nose. No sooner did he set the drink down than it tips over, saturating the tablecloth. His eyelids begin to flicker and close, and his breathing slows. In twenty years of never having had to contend with Plagueis in a state of sleep, the transpirator clicks repeatedly in adjustment, almost as if in panic.
A few meters distant, Sidious comes to a halt, gazing at Plagueis for a long moment, as though making up his mind about something. Then, blowing out his breath, he sets his glass down and reaches for the cloak he drapes over a chair. Swirling it around himself, he starts for the door, only to stop shortly before he reaches it. Turning and stretching out with the Force, he glances around the room, as one might fix a memory in the mind. Briefly, his gaze falls on the droid, its glowing photoreceptors whirring to regard him in evident curiosity.
A look of sinister purpose contorts Sidious's face.
Again, his eyes dart around the room, and the dark side whispers: 'Your election assured, the Sun Guards absent, Plagueis unsuspecting and asleep…'
And he moves in a blur.
Crackling from his fingertips, a web of blue lightning ground itself on the Muun's breathing device. Plagueis's eyes snap open, the Force gathering in him like a storm, but he stops short of defending himself. This being who survived assassinations and killed countless opponents merely gazes at Sidious, until it strikes him that Plagueis is challenging him!
Confident that he cannot be killed, and in denial that he is slowly suffocating, he might be simply experimenting with himself, actually courting death to put it in its place. Momentarily taken aback, Sidious stands absolutely still. Is Plagueis so self-deluded as to believe that he achieves immortality?
The question lingers for only a moment, then Sidious unleashes another tangle of lightning, drawing more deeply on the dark side than he ever had.
"Let's go over the second part of the speech, shall we," he says, smoothing his tousled cloak. "You useless old fool."
With a snarl, he throws the cloak back behind his shoulders and leans toward Plagueis, planting his palms on the low table that is now puddled with spilled wine.
"It was Hego Damask as Darth Plagueis who came to Naboo, determined to suck the planet dry of plasma and set the Trade Federation up as its overseers. It was Hego Damask as Plagueis who then set his sights on a seemingly confused young man and, with meticulous skill, manipulated him into committing patricide, matricide, fratricide. Darth Plagueis who took him as an apprentice, sharing some of his knowledge but withholding his most powerful secrets, denying the apprentice his wishes as a means of controlling him, instilling in him a sense of murderous rage, and turning him to the dark side." Sidious stands to his full height, glaring.
"It was Plagueis who criticized the early efforts of his apprentice, and who once choked him in a demonstration of his superiority.
"Plagueis, who denigrated him in private for hiring an inept assassin to carry out the murder of Senator Kim—and yet who allowed himself to be tricked by the Gran and nearly killed by mercenaries.
"Plagueis, who turned away from the Grand Plan to focus entirely on himself, in an egotistical quest for immortality.
"Plagueis who had the temerity to criticize his apprentice for having inculcated too much pride in the assassin he had trained.
"Plagueis who attempted to turn his equally powerful apprentice into a messenger and mere intermediary.
"And Plagueis who watched in secret while his apprentice tasked their true intermediary to reveal the reborn Sith to the galaxy."
Sidious pauses, then, in derision, adds, "Plagueis the Wise, who in his time truly was, except at the end, trusting that the Rule of Two had been superseded, and failed to realize that he would not be excused from it. Plagueis the Wise, who forged the most powerful Sith Lord the galaxy has ever known, and yet who forgot to leave a place for himself; whose pride never allowed him to question that he would no longer be needed."
Still struggling for breath, Plagueis manages to stand, but only to collapse back onto the couch, knocking a statue from its perch. Sidious moves in, his hands upraise to deliver another bolt, his expression arctic enough to chill the room. A Force storm gathers over the couch, spreading out in concentric rings, to wash over Sidious and hurl objects to all corners. In the center of it, Plagueis's form becomes anamorphic, then resumes shape as the storm begins to wane.
Sidious's eyes bear into the Muun's.
"How often you said that the old order of Bane had ended with the death of your Master. An apprentice no longer needs to be stronger, you told me, merely more clever. The era of keeping score, suspicion, and betrayal was over. Strength is not in the flesh but in the Force."
He laughs. "You lost the game on the very first day you chose to train me to rule by your side—or better still, under your thumb. Teacher, yes, and for that I will be eternally grateful. But Master—never."
Sidious peers at Plagueis through the Force. "Oh, yes, by all means gather your midi-chlorians, Plagueis." He holds his thumb and forefinger close together. "Try to keep yourself alive while I choke the life out of you."
Plagueis gulp for air and lifts an arm toward him.
"There's the rub, you see," Sidious declares in a philosophical tone. "All the ones you experimented on, killed, and brought back to life… They were little more than toys. Now, though, you get to experience it from their side, and look what you discover: in a body that is being denied air, in which even the Force is failing, your own midi-chlorians can't accomplish what you're asking of them."
Hatred stains Sidious's eyes.
"I could save you, of course. Return you from the brink, as you did Venamis. I could retask your body to repair the damage already done to your lungs, your hearts, your aged brain. But I'll do no such thing. The idea here is not to drag you back at the last moment, but to bring you to death's door and shove you through to the other side." Sidious sighs. "A tragedy, really, for one so wise. One who could oversee the lives and deaths of all beings, except himself."
The Muun's eyes begin to bulge; his pale flesh turns cyanotic.
"You may be wondering: when did he begin to change? The truth is that I haven't changed. As we have clouded the minds of the Jedi, I clouded yours. Never once did I have any intention of sharing power with you. I needed to learn from you; no more, no less. To learn all of your secrets, which I trusted you would eventually reveal. But what made you think that I would need you after that? Vanity, perhaps; your sense of self-importance. You've been nothing more than a pawn in a game played by a genuine Master.
"The Sith'ari."
A cruel laugh escapes him.
"Reflect back on even the past few years—assuming you have the capacity. Yinchorr, Dorvalla, Eriadu, Maul, the Neimoidians, Naboo, an army of clones, the fallen Jedi Dooku … You think these were your ideas, when in fact they were mine, cleverly suggested to you so that you could feed them back to me. You were far too trusting, Plagueis. No true Sith can ever really care about another. This has always been known. There is no way but my way."
Sidious's eyes narrow. "Are you still with me, Plagueis? Yes, I detect that you are—though barely.
"A few final words, then.
"I could have let you die in the Fobosi district, but I couldn't allow that to happen when there was still so much I didn't know; so many powers that remained just outside my reach. And as it happened, I acted wisely in rescuing you. Otherwise, how could I be standing here and you dying? I actually thought you would die on Sojourn—and you would have if the Hutt hadn't tipped you off to Veruna's scheme.
"And yet that also turned out for the best, for even after all you taught me, I might not have been able to take the final steps to the chancellorship without your help in manipulating the Senate and bringing into play your various and sundry allies. If it's any consolation, I'm being honest when I say that I could not have succeeded without you. But now that we've won the race, I've no need for a co-chancellor. Your presence, much less your unnecessary counsel, would only confuse matters. I have Maul to do what the risk of discovery might not allow me to do, while I execute the rest of the Grand Plan: growing an army, fomenting rebellion and fabricating intergalactic war, corralling the Jedi, and catching them unawares...
"Rest easy in your grave, Plagueis. In the end, I will be proclaimed Emperor. The Sith will have had their revenge, and I will rule the galaxy. I know about your plans to replace me with Vader, that mockery of the teachings. You Plagueis have missed the return of the old Sith. Not to worry, your protégé would gain a swift death."
His Master coughs. "You're a fool, Sidious. I never intend to replace you with Vader. Th-th... I was interested in him leading our arm-armies so we can have a invincible Empire with him as our warrior and you and I as the figureheads. This wo-would have avoided a war among our ranks, but that time and past is gone. Prepare, Sidious, y-you have inadvertently began a war that is among us. Your foolishness will only lead to your ultimate destruction, Sidious."
Before Palpatine can inquire him, Plagueis slid to the floor and rolls facedown. Death rattles his lungs and he dies.
His former Sith Master remains motionless and lifeless.
OneOne-FourDee starts to approach, but Sidious motions for it to stop.
"We're going to have to find you a new home and a new body, droid."
Immediately, the Force screams danger to him in that moment of pure instinct, causing Sidious to evade to the right, but allowing OneOne-FourDee to drop at the lightning that came from apparently nowhere.
No.
There is no way...
Palpatine tilts his head behind him to see his down Master who is smirking at him, hand outstretched, prepared for battle.
Plagueis shakes his head. "You have forgotten one thing, Sidious."
The younger Sith is sent barreling backward into the wall, watching his Master who he had thought dead stand up, crimson lightsaber activated.
"I am the Master."
Qui-Gon Jinn is one of the ablest swordsmen in the Jedi Order. That in part is due to the Master he has, being deeply skilled in lightsaber combat and accord in terms of the Force. Qui-Gon fought in conflicts all across the galaxy in the span of his life and against odds so great that many others would not have stood a chance. He survived battles that test his skill and resolve in every conceivable way.
But on this day, he meets his match. The Sith Lord he battles with Obi-Wan is more than his equal in weapons training, and he has the advantage of being younger and stronger. Qui-Gon is nearing sixty; his youth is behind him and his strength is beginning to diminish. His edge now, to the extent that he had one, comes from his long experience and intuitive grasp of how an adversary might employ a lightsaber against him.
Obi-Wan brings youth and stamina to the combat, but he fights in only a few contests and is not battle-hardened. Together, they are able to hold their own against the Sith Lord, but their efforts at attack, at assuming the offensive against this dangerous adversary, are woefully inadequate.
Darth Maul is a warrior in his prime, never to be any better, his powers at their apex. In addition, he is driven by his messianic hatred for and disdain for the Jedi Knights, the enemies of the Sith for millennia. He has worked and trained all his life for this moment, for a chance to meet a Jedi Knight in combat. It is an added bonus that he was able to engage two. He has no fear for himself, no doubt that he would win. He is focused in a way that Qui-Gon recognized at once-a Jedi's focus, mindful of the present, locked in on what was needed in the here and now. Qui-Gon sees it in his mad eyes and in the set of his red and black tattooed features. The Sith Lord is a living example of what the Jedi Master is always telling Obi-Wan about how best to hear the will of the Force.
The three combatants fight their way across the hangar floor, lightsabers flashing, bringing to bear every skill they have acquired over the years. The Jedi Knights try continually to press the attack, and indeed, the Sith Assassin is moving away from the Naboo and the starfighters and back toward the hangar's far wall. But Qui-Gon recognizes that while it might seem as if the Jedi are driving him before them, it is the Sith Assassin who is controlling the struggle. Wheeling and spinning, leaping and somersaulting with astonishing ease, their enemy was taking them with him, drawing them on to a place of his own choosing. His agility and dexterity allow him to keep them both at bay, constantly attacking while at the same time effectively blunting their counterattacks, relentlessly searching for an opening in their defense.
Qui-Gon presses hard in the beginning, sensing how dangerous this man is, and wanting to put an end to the combat quickly. Long hair flying out behind him, he attacks with ferocity and determination. Obi-Wan comes with him, following his lead. They fight together before, and they know each other's moves. Qui-Gon trained Obi-Wan, and while the younger Jedi is not yet his equal, he believes that one day Obi-Wan will be better than he ever will be.
So they challenge the Sith Assassin quickly, and just as quickly discovered that their best efforts are not good enough to achieve an early resolution. They settle into a pattern then, working as a team against their enemy, waiting for an opening. But the Sith Lord Assassin is too smart to give them one, and so the battle goes on.
They fight their way out of the main hangar through an entry that led into a power station. Catwalks and overhangs crisscrossed a pit in which a tandem of generators that serves the starship complex was housed. The room is cavernous and filled with the noise of heavy machinery. Ambient light filters away in clouds of steam and layers of shadows. The Jedi and the Sith Assassin battle onto one of the catwalks suspended above the generators, and the metal frame rang with the thudding of their boots and the clash of their lightsabers.
Alone in the power station, hidden from the rest of Theed and its occupants, they intensify their struggle.
The Sith Assassin leaps from the bridge on which they fought to the one above, a strange face shining with the heat of the battle and his own peculiar joy. The Jedi follows, one coming up in front of him, one behind, so that they have him pinned between them. Down the length of the catwalk they fight, lightsabers flashing, sparks flying from the metal railing of the walk as they smash against it.
Then Darth Maul catches Obi-Wan off balance and with a powerful kick knocks the Jedi completely over the railing. Taking advantage of the Sith Lord's assault on Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon forces Darth Maul over the railing as well. Down the Sith Lord tumbles, landing hard on a catwalk several levels below Obi-Wan. The force of the fall or perhaps the unexpectedness of it leaves him visibly stunned, and Qui-Gon leaps down after him, sensing a chance to put an end to things. But the Sith Assassin struggles back to his feet quickly and races away, taking the battle in a new direction.
"Fear."
By the time Obi-Wan recovers, Qui-Gon is in pursuit of Darth Maul, following him down the catwalk toward a small door at the far end of the power station. The Jedi Master goes swiftly, legs and arms pumping, lightsaber flashing. He is worn and battered by now, close to exhaustion, but the Sith Lord is on the defensive at last, and he did not want to give him a chance to regroup.
"Anger."
"Qui-Gon!" Obi-Wan calls after him, trying to catch up, but the Jedi Master did not slow.
"Rage."
One after the other, the three antagonists pass through the small door into a corridor beyond. They are moving quickly in their frenzied chase and were into the corridor before they realized what it was. Lasers ricochet off buffer struts, pulsing in long bursts of crisscrossing brilliance that segmented the corridor at five points. The lasers just begin to kick in when the Sith Assassin and the Jedi Master and Padawan rush through the entry. Darth Maul, in the lead, gets farthest down the corridor and finds himself trapped between walls four and five. Qui-Gon, in close pursuit, is caught only one wall away. Obi-Wan, who is farthest away in the chase, did not get past even the first wall.
Shocked into immobility by the buzz and flash of the lasers, the antagonists froze where they are, casting about for an escape, finding none. Qui-Gon takes a quick measure of their location. They are in the service corridor for the melting pit, the disposal unit of the power station's residue. The service corridor is armed with lasers against unauthorized intrusion. There will be a shutoff switch somewhere at both ends of the passage, but it is too late to look for it now.
The Jedi stare down the laser-riddled corridor at the Sith Lord, who gives them a wicked grin. Don't worry, they could read in his dark countenance, you won't have long to wait for me.
Qui-Gon exchanges a meaningful glance with Obi-Wan and then drops into a guarded crouch to meditate and wait.
Obi-Wan Kenobi prowls the front end of the service corridor to the melting pit like a caged animal. He is furious at himself for getting trapped so far from Qui-Gon and furious with Qui-Gon for letting this happen by rushing ahead instead of waiting for him. But he was worried, too. He admits it to himself, privately, if only just. They should have won this battle long ago. Against any other opponent, they would have. But the Sith Lord is battle-trained and seasoned well beyond anyone they had ever encountered before. He matches them blow for blow, and they aren't any closer to winning this fight now than they had been in the beginning.
"Suffering."
Obi-Wan stares down the length of the corridor, measuring the distance he would have to travel to reach Qui-Gon and his antagonist when the laser pauses. He catches a glimpse of them deactivating while rushing to catch up with Qui-Gon, then reactivating again in a matter of seconds. He will have to be quick. Very quick. He did not want the Master facing this tattooed madman alone.
Down the way, pin between two walls of laser beams, Qui-Gon Jinn kneels in meditation, facing toward the Sith Lord and the melting pit, his head lowered over his lightsaber. He is gathering himself for a final assault, bringing himself in tune with the Force. Obi-Wan does not like the weariness he sees in the slump of the older man's shoulders, in the bow of his back. He is the best swordsman Obi-Wan has ever seen before, but he is growing old.
Beyond, the Sith Lord work at binding up his wounds, a series of burns and slashes mark by char tears in his dark clothing. He is backed to the edge of the chamber beyond, keeping a close watch on Jinn, his red and black face intense, his yellow eyes glinting in the half-light. His lightsaber rest on the floor before him. He sees Kenobi staring and smiling in open derision.
At that instant, the laser beams warding the service corridor go off.
Obi-Wan sprints ahead, launching himself down the narrow passageway, lightsaber raised. Qui-Gon is on his feet as well, his own weapon flashing. He catapults through the opening that leads into the melting pit and closes with the Sith Lord, forcing him back, out of the passageway completely. Obi-Wan puts on a new burst of speed, howling out at the antagonists ahead as if by the sound of his voice he can bring them back to him.
Then he hears the buzz of the capacitors kicking in once more, cycling to reactivate the lasers. He throws himself ahead, still too far from the corridor's end. He clears all the gates but the last, and the lasers crisscross before him in a deadly wall, bringing him to an abrupt stop just short of where he needs to be.
Lightsaber clutch in both hands, he stands watching helplessly as Qui-Gon Jinn and Darth Maul battle on the narrow ledge that encircled the melting pit. A stream of electrons is all that separated him from the combatants, but it might as well be a wall of permacrete three meters thick. Desperately he cast about for a triggering device that might shut the system down, but he had no better luck here than he have at the other end. He can only watch and wait and pray that Qui-Gon can hold on.
At that moment, Darth Vader delves deep into the Force than he ever did during time travel, the Force now ringing around the palace. The moment of truth.
"Obi-Wan... I can save him..." an authoritatively all too familiar voice states through his thoughts.
Even though the Jedi Padawan didn't know how the man can do it without the slightest of a bond form between them and is beyond confused at first, he soon realizes what he means.
Immediately, the young Jedi replies. 'No-no, I would never use the dark side. It is forbidden.'
Qui-Gon finds a fresh reserve of strength during his meditation, and now he was attacking with a ferocity that seemed to have the Sith Lord stymied. With quick, hard strokes of his lightsaber, he bores into his adversary, deliberately engaging in close-quarters combat, refusing to let the other bring his double-bladed weapon to bear. He drives Darth Maul backward about the rim of the overhang, keeping the Sith Lord constantly on the defensive, pressing in on him steadily. Qui-Gon Jinn might no longer be young, but he is still powerful. Darth Maul's rag face takes on a frenzied look, and the glitter of his strange eyes brightens with uncertainty.
'Good, Master,' Obi-Wan thinks, urging him on voicelessly, anticipating Qui-Gon's sword strokes as if they are his own, ignoring the naggy presence of Darth Vader alongside him.
Then Darth Maul back-flips across the melting pit, giving himself some space in which to recover, gaining just enough time to assume a new battle stance. Qui-Gon is on him in an instant, covering the distance and separating them in a rush, hammering into the Sith Lord anew. But he is beginning to weary now from carrying the battle alone. His strokes are not as vigorous as before, his face bathed with sweat and taut with fatigue.
"Your Master will die."
'N-no. You won't get what you want from me.'
Slowly, Darth Maul begins to edge his way back into the fight, becoming the aggressor once more, pushing Qui-Gon back slightly but regaining the attack.
'Hurry!' Obi-Wan hisses soundlessly, willing the lasers to pause and the gates to come down.
"You will foolishly allow him to die."
'N-no.'
Stroke for stroke, Qui-Gon and Darth Maul battle about the rim of the melting pit, lock in combat that seems endless and forever and can be won by neither.
Obi-Wan sees it before it even comes, his eyes zooming out of the battle, almost as if it is leaving his reality for a different one, the endless blade locks ending. Then the Sith Lord parries a downstroke, whirls swiftly to the right, and with his back to the Jedi Master, makes a blind, reverse lung. Too late, Qui-Gon recognizes the danger. The lightsaber of the Sith Lord catches him directly in the midsection, its brilliant length burning through clothing and flesh and bone. Obi-Wan thinks he hears the Jedi Master scream, then realizes it was himself, calling his friend's name in despair. Qui-Gon makes no sound as the blade enters him, stiffening with the impact, then taking a small step back as it was withdrawn. He stands motionless for an instant, fighting against the shock of the killing blow. Then his eyes cloud, his arms lower, and a great weariness settles over his proud features. He drops to his knees, and his lightsaber clatters to the stone floor. He slumps forward and motionless, sprawling across the floor in such a position that Obi-Wan has never seen before.
'Dead.'
"Your Master will not defeat him, but you can."
Obi-Wan Kenobi is at odds with himself, squeezing his eyes shut, resisting and ignoring the call as he senses the blades still clashing. He can find his own way to save his Master.
'Good luck with this shield preventing you to do so.' Not Vader but his own thoughts is taunting him, pouring those blunt emotions out into the opening. His desperation is being used against him, and it isn't long before the Jedi Padawan shall show his true colors under the strain of what is happening for the past few days. Also, there is a part of him who loathes Qui-Gon, feeling as if he has intentions to have the boy from Tatooine as a replacement, emotions are that far from the Jedi way now radiating through his presence as much as he doesn't wish to admit it.
Opening his eyes, he can see his Master is still slashing against the Zabrak, the Jedi Padawan stiffening. He blinks slightly, and he sees his Master losing his energy as he looks closely as the Zabrak parries the downstroke and Qui-Gon performs similar movements from last time.
Obi-Wan watches the battle, feeling all breath leaving him more and more. The next time their blades connect, Obi-Wan can sense his Master's energy beginning to dwindle, his age at last catching up to him.
He sees the vision again... his Master's shocked face... the Sith Assassin standing triumphantly as he has finally accomplished his lifelong goal... and the limp body of Qui-Gon Jinn.
Obi-Wan calls upon the Force, 'W-would he die... without me accepting assistance from Vader?'
There is no reply to that comment, and he delves deep into the Force. He has his answer. Without drawing on the full nature of the Force, they would lose. The light side of the Force always guided the Jedi for thousands of years, but his Master will die to this-this animal without his assistance. He, a mere Jedi Padawan, cannot win against a trained Sith Assassin.
The Jedi within him warns him not to accept the dark side, not to allow his personal feelings to cloud his judgment, and that they are other ways to defeat this phantom menace without submitting to the calls of the echoes that are very evidently the dark side.
But there is the part that is the son of Qui-Gon Jinn, the part that doesn't want to watch his father figure die before his very eyes; while they may have their differences, they still are as close as father and son. They would never admit this, for attachment is not the Jedi way.
Although part of him screams at the warning of Master Yoda's wisdom, Obi-Wan cannot allow this to happen. He cannot allow this enemy to win. He can't allow the closest person he has as a father to be killed.
Another life has been claimed among these walls, adding to Obi-Wan's failure. Remorse fills him, adding to his dark emotions of wishing to save them. On top of this battle, Obi-Wan knows there has to be a way, have to be a way to defeat this Sith without falling to the dark side.
Yet as he studies the Sith's movements compared to his own, Obi-Wan knows that there is little chance. Un-unless he accepts Vader's offer.
'Help me.'
He lowers his shields some, and he hopes that will be enough as he would rather not give Vader full control of his actions and deeds, otherwise his mind will be damaged or fully in control of another which is just as bad. He doesn't know Vader's age or how powerful he is without that armor and mask, but that doesn't mean Vader wouldn't use the body of a powerful Jedi Padawan against anyone who he sees fit.
A faint reminder that strikes too close to home strikes him like a ship crashing on a planet; if he uses the dark side, he would forever be dominated by it. To fall to the dark side and to return is impossible, but didn't Vader return from the darkness, seeing that he calls off the light frequently since he has arrived, and didn't kill him and his Master upon meeting them like many other Jedi?
"Do not allow yourself to lose your Master and yourself. If he kills him, you would struggle anyway, due to your attachment. His fall alone may sooner send you down a path of descent. At the very least, you saving him will have a lesser chance that you will not fall to the dark side."
As much as Obi-Wan hates to admit it, Vader is right about all of it. The Padawan and Master attachment is strong, and there have been times in history when a Master or Padawan falls to the dark side when they lose their partner, which means there is a greater chance that he will fall either way, given the connection between him and his Master.
He lowers his shields more, allowing the dark energy to fuel him but there is the light as well and a strange sort of peace combating the darkness. Suddenly, he feels at peace but feels far stronger, feeling a great amount of power swelling within him.
Somehow, he doesn't know how nor he ever may be able, but Obi-Wan Kenobi outstretches a hand and disable the shield that blocks him from reaching and assisting his Master, the controls destroying beyond repairs which admittedly interests the young Jedi.
"Now, Obi-Wan!"
The voice in his head reminds him not to slow or ponder, followed by a nag in his head that takes him back to the battle which apparently has fallen under slow motion.
Death is nearing his Master.
A yell comes from his lip that alerts both Jedi Master and Sith Assassin, equally startling both of them.
Obi-Wan comes crashing down against both of their blades.
"No!"