A/N: Thanks again to en-shaedn. There are several lines here that are entirely her concoction – and if you see references to Ky'elee and Breha, you can thank my lovely editor for reminding me to follow up on those threads.


The Council was quiet. There was no protocol for this; no precedent. Even Grandmaster Yoda had not been alive long enough to remember the last rise of the Sith.

"Master Kenobi," began Mace Windu, solemn and agitated, "we have received your report on the situation in Goc Fiyao on Kuat. Insofar as the Twi'lek are concerned, the Council considers the matter closed. Your report and those we have received from the Kuati authorities and Ky'elee Fenn have provided sufficient information for the Council's records." Ben did not nod or bow. He took a deep breath and braced for impact. "However," the Master of the Order glared, "there remains another matter."

A pause, as if everyone did not already know why they were here.

"The Sith," Yoda spoke the words looming in all of their minds. The other council members watched the Grandmaster carefully, but Yoda had eyes only for Ben, and they stared into his soul. "Why you are here this is. The darkness that you spoke of this is."

Ben drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "It is the beginning." Only, not as he remembered it.

"The beginning of what?" Ki Adi Mundi asked.

Ben eyed him, not entirely sure what to say. "Last time, it was the end of this Order," subdued alarm over that, "but now…" It was too early. The Sith were sniffing him out, and they'd blown their cover. Would they run? Would they advance? The future was no longer recognizable. I've left this too long. I've left it too long and I've killed Maul, and Force only knows what comes next. Ben swallowed hard. "I don't know."

"Know the future none of us can," Yoda pointed out, squinting at Ben, "know only possibilities. Follow the Force we must."

"But we will not follow blindly for sake of one man's ego," Mace cut in. Ben bit the inside of his cheek. Yoda's squint intensified.

"Saw this Sith months ago in a vision, Aola Tarkona did."

Ben closed his eyes. He could tell where this was going. "Yes, Master."

"Recognize her visions for what they were, you did."

"I… suspected, master."

"And said nothing you did," Yoda snapped, genuine anger leaking through. Ben's hands, folded into opposite sleeves, dug into his wrists. He bowed his head low.

"That is correct, Master." He felt like a youngling standing accused. He could've melted right into the floor.

Master Yoda had nothing else to say. He leaned back into his seat, craggy face scrunched in severe disappointment. Receiving such a look by itself would have been punishment enough.

Mace Windu took over. "Master Kenobi, you have held this council in contempt for too long. You have withheld information about the future, about the Sith, about everything you have experienced and how it may pertain to this Order and this Republic. We have suffered your secrecy for over four years, out of respect for your perception of the Force's will, and on the advisory of Master Yoda. However." Ben knew what was going to come next. In some ways, it was a relief. It would be a humbling blow, aimed at the jugular, but even now the Force reached out to him and whispered the first inklings of a response. It was high time. "In light of recent events, we cannot allow you to withhold such vital information from this Council any longer."

Mace took a breath, winding up for what was no doubt a well-rehearsed, scathing, unequivocal argument. To his surprise, Ben Kenobi forestalled him by nodding gently and saying, "Yes, I know."

The Korun master actually stopped short. "I'm sorry?"

Ben looked up, sheepish but determined to overcome it. "I cannot hope to keep what I know to myself any longer. Since I've… arrived here, I had thought…" He gestured with his hands, unfamiliar with the sensation of speechlessness. "When the future was clearer, when nothing had changed, I was confident in my decision. But now… everything has changed. I cannot see clearly. I know I am not alone here. I must not act like I am."

"You intend to share information with the Council, then?" Mace asked. Ben eyed him keenly.

"I…" he began, uncertain to his core. "I'm not sure how," He confessed.

"If this man you killed was in fact a Sith Lord, we need to know more, we need to act," said Saesee Tiin.

"I understand that," Ben replied, "but you must understand that I cannot - I should not tell you everything right now."

"And why not?" Asked Mace Windu, with venom.

"Because you will be afraid," Ben snapped. "You will all be afraid of the future I've seen, as I am. That fear will infect this Council just like it did the last time, and will destabilize this entire Order from the top down." Ben shook his head. "Just like last time."

A brief silence as the Council absorbed what he'd said. Eventually, Plo Koon leaned forward and said, "Your logic is sound, Master Kenobi, but you forget that we are not here to upset your mission. We are here to help you. If you truly wish to subvert fear, you must not keep it clutched so closely to your own chest."

The Kel Dor master always had been gifted with insight. "Master Koon is right," Eeth Koth concurred. "We are on your side, Master Kenobi. But we must know what you know in order to help you."

"I appreciate your confidence, masters," Ben began, mentally wrestling his own doubts into submission to project his words with a councilor's authority. "But I did not arrive at my decision lightly. I know that all of you are on my side - in another life, we were all very good friends. I myself was a member of the High Council. I know your inner workings, I understand your concerns." He glanced about the room, wishing in this moment he could see his friends, not his Council. "So please hear me not as an upstart, but as a colleague: it would be extremely unwise to entrust all that I know to so many powerful people at once."

Several councilors seemed surprised and impressed to hear that Ben had once been a councilor. Mace Windu, who already knew that particular secret, was unmoved.

"Then what do you propose to do, Kenobi?" The Master of the Order asked, growing weary of the Negotiator's soapbox. "Do not let your own fear cloud your judgement."

Ben took a deep breath, glancing at Master Windu and then the rest of the assembly. "I am prepared to offer the Council a choice. I can either share incomplete knowledge with the entire Council right now," he paused, "or I could entrust all that I know with one individual, a representative who can keep me accountable, and give me much needed advice as we move forward." His eyes pleaded clemency from his superiors. I've left it too long. Ben wondered if he should have done this months ago, or years. Had it been wise to wait until the Sith reappeared? Do not center on your anxieties. This was the here and now. The past was done.

"An intermediary?" Master Rancisis asked.

"Yes," Ben nodded. "To whose judgement I will defer on what knowledge to share with the Council and when."

Even Mace Windu seemed intrigued by that idea. As the rest of the councilors considered his proposal, Ben filled the silence with a humble disclaimer. "I am sorry that I have postponed this dilemma to such an extent."

Master Yoda peered at his great grandpadawan, considering the intent behind his words. At length, the venerated Jedi said: "Already have a candidate in mind you do." It was a statement, not a question.

Ben bowed to him. "Yes, master."

"It would have to be Grandmaster Yoda," Adi Gallia presumed. Others nodded their heads in agreement.

Ben tilted his in a diplomatic 'no'. "As I have told you, masters, the future that I have seen is darker than anything any of you suspect. I can only share my experience and knowledge with someone who I know can carry the weight of it. Someone who has proven themselves time and again against the dark, who knows how to use the currents of darkness and not become a part of them." He let his gaze wander over the assembly of taciturn faces until finally his eyes found those of Mace.

"Master Windu," he said, respectfully. "Inventor of Vaapad, way of the vornskr."

Mace looked genuinely shocked. Yoda seemed pleasantly unsurprised at the verdict, and his ears dipped in sage agreement. The august councilors eyed each other, some more pleased than others. Coded looks flew around the room, silent conversations already underway. Yoda took stock of the muddled atmosphere and hummed. "Deliberate on this we must," he said, tapping his gimer stick on the edge of his seat. "Leave us you will." A softer look, coming from Yoda the great grandmaster and not Yoda the councilor. "Go, rest your injuries."

Ben obediently retreated from the chambers and pulled up his hood. When he returned to his own chambers, he found that he'd missed several calls from Bail Organa. He returned them immediately. As he'd suspected, the topic for conversation was the Sith Lord.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Bail breathed when he answered the comm. No need to consider the might-have-beens; their focus was on the now. "Are you sure it was a Sith?"

"As sure as anything," Ben said, blandly. He'd seen this particular Sith too many times, in life and in dreams. The image of his corpse was already haunting him, providing what was sure to be a new image in his nightmares.

"What will the Council do? Surely they'll have to forward this information to Chancellor Valorum."

"I'm not sure. I've just been in to see them. They are still deliberating."

"Of course. Will you let me know what they decide?"

"If what you suspect is accurate, Senator, I won't have to."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries to diffuse the the tension. Bail asked after Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and teased Ben for still having not introduced them. Ben asked about the rumors he'd heard circulating in the secretaries' breakroom, and was gratified when Bail confirmed that he and Breha Antilles were in fact courting. Eventually, Ben's arm twinged, he winced, and Bail brought their conversation back around to the matter of Kuat.

"I was surprised to hear that Senator Thane has authorized a reward for your on-planet guide, Ky'elee Fenn. Probably attempting to mitigate the damage from the whole mess, but at least it is benefiting someone deserving of every credit."

It was a silver lining. "I'm glad to hear it. I'm only sorry it took such a catastrophe to teach her a sense of diplomacy."

"It's a lucky thing that you were there," the senator said, no doubt wondering what would have happened if a younger or less experienced Jedi had been assigned to the case. Bail chuckled. "Hell, I wouldn't have even known about the problem if Senator Palpatine hadn't mentioned it to me."

Ben froze. "What?"

"Sheev Palpatine - you met him at the Alaris Prime dinner, I think. He's the one who brought Kuat's situation to the Coalition's attention. I understand he's close with Senator Thane. At any rate, he's the only reason I heard about it. He mentioned you, actually."

"Did he?" What happened on Tatooine? Maul had asked - no doubt at the behest of his master.

"Yes, apparently he'd heard about your work on Herdessa years ago, thought you might be a good fit for the job. He was right, of course."

"Of course," Ben parroted, feeling cold.

Bail seemed to pick up on it. "Are you alright, Ben?"

"I'm sorry… I need to go, Senator. Thank you for your call."

"Of course, Ben. May the Force be with you."

The transmission cut off, leaving him with a knot of unresolved tension in his gut.


Ben waited all day for another council summons. None came. There was, however, a knock at his door. He opened it to find Mace Windu on the other side.

"Master Windu," He said, training his expression of surprise into something less revealing. "Is this the council's decision, then?"

"They left it up to me to decide," Mace told him. There was an unusual emotion in his eyes, a mixture of vindication and humility. He let out a long, pensive sigh. "I've waited for over four years to ask you why the hell you're here and get a straight answer. Are you going to try and talk yourself out of it again?"

"No," Ben said, stepping aside so Mace could come inside. "No, I'm glad it's you."

"You brush me off for all this time, and now you change your mind?" The other Jedi scoffed. "You never cease to surprise me, Master Kenobi."

"As I've told you before, Mace," Ben ignored the inevitable flinch at the familiar moniker, "in another life, you and I were very close friends. I would be glad for you to understand that properly."

Ben made tea while Mace waited on the sofa. He watched Ben's every move, and Ben pretended not to notice. As soon as Ben brought the tea tray to the low table and sat across from him, Mace leaned forward and perched his fingers into a determined angle. "Start talking," he said.

Ben watched his tea with sad, relieved wrinkles showing under his fringe. Sapir leaves shifted against the bottom of his glass, and for the first time in a long time, the changing shapes gave him relief. "The man I killed is a Sith. A Zabrak, son of Mother Talzin of Dathomir. His name is Darth Maul. Last time… he killed Qui-Gon while I watched."

Mace's expression twitched in surprise, but only slightly. "Are you sure he is a Sith?"

"I have faced enough of them to know a pretender from the real thing," which in and of itself was a foreboding notion to accept. Ben gave Mace a meaningful look. "He is a Sith."

"Which one?"

"The apprentice."

"And the master?"

Ben paused mid-sip and wondered how he ought to explain. There was too much for words. "I should start at the beginning. But… perhaps it would be better if I showed you." He set down his teacup carefully. Mace's frown surprised Ben with a shade of concern.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Ben nodded. "It would be easiest - for me, at least. I can't say the same for you."

"You seemed to think that I could handle it," Mace reminded.

"Where no one else can. Not even Master Yoda." It was a heavy judgement, and gave the Korun pause. "You'll want to brace yourself."

Mace considered the warning with appropriate gravity. "Very well," he said. The two Jedi drank deeply from their tea bowls before setting them aside on the tray. Atop their respective seats, they drew up their legs into the lotus meditation pose, closing their eyes and relaxing their shoulders. They rested their hands on either knee; the left they kept bent, palm facing toward themselves. The right, they let fall out over their right knee, palm outstretched toward each other.

Memory sharing was an incredibly simple, incredibly intimate exchange between Force users. Jedi learned how to do it, sometimes by accident, in the creche. It made storytime more interesting and helped agemates bond. But after the simplicity of childhood had passed, such communion was, if practiced at all, used only between master and apprentice or perhaps very close friends. Or, in this case, between unforeseen confidants.

They closed their eyes. "I will start at the beginning," Ben said, as they both built up their shields. He carefully arranged the mental chronicle he'd replayed in his mind so many times but never once shared. "In the year twenty-five aught twenty-two. Qui-Gon and I had been sent to Naboo to negotiate a treaty between Theed and the Trade Federation."

Eyes closed, Mace frowned. "Twenty-five aught...That's still four years off. You said that this Sith was the beginning?"

"He was. Things have changed," Ben's frown intensified, "for better or worse."

They plunged ahead. As they fell headfirst into another time and place, Mace's breath hitched in his throat. Ben only sighed.


Hours later, after much time meditating and talking in hushed tones, Ben Kenobi and Mace Windu appeared before the Council. Mace did not sit forward in his seat as he normally did; he lounged back, eyes faroff, a pensive finger pressed to his lips. When he'd taken his seat, the other councilors could not help but watch. Master Yoda in particular watched his former pupil with interest, but Mace's reaction to his newfound knowledge was inscrutable.

Daylight was fading into dusk by the time the council had assembled. Without preamble, they dove into their discussion of the Sith, quietly deferring judgement to Mace Windu, the newly-appointed time traveller-confidant.

"We must bide our time," Mace was saying before the rest of the council. "This Sith and his master have spent decades planning their moves against the Jedi. Ben has thwarted one part of their conspiracy," he nodded at Ben, who stood once again in the middle of the assembly, "but we cannot assume that they will not have contingencies in place."

"You suggest that we do nothing?" Asked Saesee Tiin, baffled by such a change of sentiment in their Master of the Order.

"On the contrary, Master Tiin," Ben cut into the conversation. "We cannot do nothing. But we must not over-react."

"A Sith is hardly something a matter to consider lightly," said Adi Gallia.

"No, master. But provoking fear is something we must avoid - especially from within our own Temple."

"Master Kenobi is right," Ki Adi Mundi chipped in. "The Sith may be our Order's oldest enemy, but fear is older and more powerful still." He turned to look at Mace. "What say you, Master Windu?"

"I agree." The other councilors said nothing. "We cannot ignore the Sith, but we must not give them a spotlight."

"We must be as wise as vipers and and as docile as shaak," Ben quoted.

Mace gave a nod. "Exactly."

"Tread carefully, we must," said Master Yoda, ancient eyes peering past the seen world into an intricate, invisible realm of thought. "Prepare, we must. Fear, we should not. Ignore the Sith we cannot, but center ourselves on their lies, we must not."

"We must be mindful of the Force, and the Light," Mace Windu spoke up. "Especially now that the Dark is growing stronger."

Sounds of agreement went about the room, followed by a pregnant pause.

"Master Kenobi," Adi Gallia spoke up at length.

Ben turned toward her. "Master?"

"Is there nothing else you can share with us today?"

Ben glanced at Mace Windu, who shook his head softly. "Only this, Master," Ben said, and drew out the broken-edged saber from an inner pocket. At the prompting of master Yoda, he ignited it. The red beam made several of the councilors draw in sharp breaths, unused to seeing their sacred weapon lit in such harsh colors. Master Yoda remained unaffected. Once Ben had deactivated the weapon, Yoda reached out a clawed hand and levitated the saber to himself.

"Luminous beings we are, not this gross matter," he reminded in a familiar and comforting tone. "Disturbing this is. Grim omen of the future this may be. But not unprepared are we." He nodded to the assembly, and then looked back to Ben. "Entrust this with the Sentinels I will, for study and safekeeping."

"Of course, Master," Ben bowed.

They adjourned on that note. The councilors slowly filed out of the room, each going to his or her affairs. Four members left together as a group, appointed to the task of composing the Council's official release on the matter of the Sith. Eventually, only Ben, Yoda, and Mace Windu remained. Silently, Yoda glanced between his two pupils, bowed slightly to both, and left.

It was dark out, as dark as Coruscant would ever be. City skyscrapers shone like sparkling lamps against a hazy navy-blue sky. Mace Windu's robes caught a soft gold outline as he stepped closer to Ben. The two Jedi watched each other, a new understanding only just budding between them. They hadn't had time to talk about all of it. They'd spoken of the Sith, and of Maul, and briefly of Qui-Gon's death. But there had been too much to say for only one evening.

"I understand why you chose me," Mace said eventually, no hint of arrogance in the statement. "But I do not understand why you waited until now." He stepped closer to Ben, lowering his voice to a whisper. Skycars hummed across the sky in the intermediate quiet, apathetic witnesses to an intensely private conversation. "You knew that the Sith were coming. You've known about…" he glanced around, as if to reassure himself that no one was listening. "About Palpatine for months. Master Gard's apprentice has been having visions for months." The master shrugged, eyes begging the question. "Why now?"

Ben crossed his arms and stroked his beard. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that he were back in the times of Before. "Mace, I only have one shot at this," he confided softly. "We only get one life in this galaxy, but I've been given a second chance. I don't know why, I don't know how. But I can't get it wrong." He looked up at his old friend and tried to communicate an apology. "I had to be sure. And I am sure that I cannot do this alone anymore."

Mace nodded quietly, turning to look out the windows. "The Skywalker boy. Do you really believe he's the-"

"I believe he could be," Ben interrupted. "And I believe that I did the right thing on Tatooine. In bringing him here."

"He's the reason the Sith want to know about Tatooine."

"Yes."

"He's powerful - very powerful."

"Right now, he's just a boy," Ben corrected. "He may be powerful. He may even be the Chosen One. But he's just…" the image of baby Anakin sprung unbidden in his mind, the swaddled chance at redemption that Ben Kenobi had never deserved. "He's just a boy. I lost sight of that, last time. We mustn't get ahead of ourselves."

Mace glanced at the night sky, and at his feet, and at Ben's calm, unmoving expression. He laughed. "I don't know how you do it," he said, his smile somewhat hysterical.

"Do what?"

"Wait. Stand by with all of… all of that in your head, and not go mad."

Ben chuckled. "I've had a fair bit of practice. Still, I landed myself in nine months of censure the first time I stepped out the door," Ben glanced at the taller Jedi, "I would hardly call that 'not mad'."

Mace shook his head incredulously, mind's eye running through four years of memories in light of new knowledge. "I suppose you'll expect me to wait around and not go mad, too."

"You said it yourself. We must bide our time."

"Even if we know exactly who we're up against?" Mace turned to look at him. Ben met his gaze. It felt odd to be telling the Master of the Order what to do.

"We must not act rashly in fear; we seek harmony, not retribution."

Mace pursed his lips in reluctant agreement. "Well said, Kenobi."

"I really think you ought to call me Ben."

Mace strode toward the lift, leaving Ben behind in the quiet. "I'll think about it," he said. Ben smiled, happy to have found himself in Mace Windu's better graces - no matter how begrudging those graces might be. He stood alone in the council room for a while, nighttime isolation allowing him to feel his pent-up exhaustion. He stared out at the unsleeping Galactic City and rubbed idly at his arm.


"It will scar," Vokara advised, gentle hands prodding at his arm. "You're lucky it didn't dig any deeper, your arm might not've survived."

"Yes, I know." Ben watched her mop up the soiled bacta from the gaping wound and slather on a new layer. He smiled in morbid fascination. "Another to add to my collection."

Vokara shook her head, medical sensibilities amused and repulsed in equal measure by his humor. "I wager the other man fared far worse," She offered, watching him. Ben's smile disappeared, and he looked down at the floor. He couldn't confirm the obvious truth. "You're still questioning your own motives, aren't you?" She asked him. Ben looked up at her in surprise. "Qui-Gon told me," she explained.

"Oh."

Vokara finished wrapping his arm and washed her hands. "I know it may not bring back any fond memories, but if you need anyone to talk to, Ben, remember that I'm here." She watched him with a maternal concern as he stood and pulled on his tunic. "You've been through a lot. More than any of us know. I won't pretend to fully understand, but… keeping it to yourself won't help your mind heal."

"I know." His smile was a twitch of hope in a sea of uncertainty. "One thing at a time. Thank you, Vokara," He kissed her on the cheek, and she patted him on the back as he left.

"Force be with you, Ben," she whispered behind him. Her mind strayed to the saber-hot edges of his wound. "Force be with us all."


"...last night before the Galactic Senate. According to Senator Damaera Thane of Kuat, a recent murder investigation has uncovered the presence of a Sith Lord in Kuat City."

Obi-Wan had the volume turned down as low as he could manage. It was past midnight and Qui-Gon expected him to be asleep, but he was wide awake, blue light washed over his pale sleep clothes and his wide-eyed expression. He hunched over his desk to see the blue holo more closely. A female news anchor spoke over footage of Chancellor Valorum speaking in front of the Senate body.

"...these allegations, Supreme Chancellor Valorum confirmed Thane's claims following a press release from the Jedi High Council, the ruling body of the Jedi Order." The image shifted to show a solemn Saesee Tiin, who must've been playing spokesperson for the Council.

"The Council can confirm that the criminal responsible for the recent murders in Kuat City was found, confronted, and ultimately killed in a confrontation with one of our Knights. We have strong reasons to believe that this perpetrator may have been a Sith Lord, and are investigating the matter further. Kuat's state of emergency has passed, but we will continue to keep a close eye on the developing situation surrounding this unusual character."

Obi-Wan snorted softly, without humor. Unusual wasn't the word he would have chosen.

"Authorities have not yet released any further footage on the Kuati Sith Murders, but we will keep you updated on all incoming information as it becomes available."

In the main room of the apartment, the front door opened. Immediately, Obi-Wan shut down his holo, sound and light gone in an instant. His eyes shone just barely in light filtering in past the curtains as he watched his bedroom door.

"Master," echoed Qui-Gon's baritone from outside. "It's a little late to be paying social calls."

"I assume you've heard the news," Dooku's bass resonated throughout the apartment, even at a low whisper.

Qui-Gon sighed. The door slid shut. "A Sith Lord," he said, and hearing his own master say it made the hairs on the back of Obi-Wan's neck stand on end.

"I always feared it may come to this," Dooku said, sighing as he sat. Obi-Wan tip-toed barefoot to the door, pressing his ear against the panel, braid tickling his bare collarbone.

"He's been killed," Qui-Gon pointed out.

"Yes, I heard. By Ben Kenobi no less - or so the rumor goes."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows raised, and rose higher still when Qui-Gon said: "Yes, it was him."

"You spoke with him?"

"Only briefly. He was shaken by the encounter."

"Rightfully so. If this Sith have truly returned…" Dooku sighed. A deep melancholy had fallen over the Force, dark burgundy tinted with fear. "No, they have returned. After a thousand years. I've always said this galaxy is becoming a darker and darker place. I'm not entirely sure that our Order is ready for it."

Qui-Gon mumbled something indistinct, and the pair fell silent.

Obi-Wan leaned his back against the door and stared into the darkness of his room, hearing the roar of an oncoming storm but unable to see its beginning or end.

The apprentice waited for hours, sleep far from his mind. After Dooku left for his own rooms and Qui-Gon fell asleep, Obi-Wan snuck out of his room. Still in his sleep clothes and wrapped in his cloak, he made his way down empty halls to an out-of-the-way repulsorlift.

After years of this unspoken, unplanned ritual, neither Kenobi was surprised to find each other in the basement halls. They sat together on the high flight of stairs near the back of the chamber.

Obi-Wan looked up and around at the hall. Its immense fixtures had become so familiar to him, he rarely remembered to look at the ancient glyphs and pillars with reverence. The Force down here, dense with centuries of life and death, felt disturbed, ripples of long history hearing the darkness of today and answering with echoes of the dormant past.

"You know," Obi-Wan broke the silence, voice echoing in the vastness. "I'm finally old enough that the archivists will let me access the records on this place."

Ben was wrapped in thought, staring at the walls and the desecrated floor, wondering how old this place really was, how many ghosts of darkness past remained with them, awakening only now. "Oh?" He asked, absently.

"Yes. It's a hall of rites. There was a sect of Jedi, founded millennia ago by a group who believed time travel was possible." Ben turned and looked at his younger self in surprise. Obi-Wan's gaze was fixed on the intricate mosaics that covered the walls. They'd held meaning, once. In another life, perhaps he would've been able to read them. "They believed that, in times of greatest need, the Force could bring an enlightened few, a chosen one, back or forward in time to bring balance, restore harmony. They dedicated their lives to mediating this will of the Force, attempting to discern when intervention was immanent."

"I had no idea," Ben said.

"Neither did I. Nor anyone. It never worked, you see."

"What, time travel?"

"Yes. They tried – they tried in the darkest times to summon help from the past and future. During the Schisms, the Hyperspace War; the Sith War, the Civil War." Obi-Wan turned to look at Ben, face disturbed and seeking some kind of solace. "They were left without a temple, without hope, with less than a hundred Jedi left, who would eventually disband the Order itself, and…" he shrugged helplessly. "and it didn't work. It never did. Not even once." He looked down to the now years-old spot where the Force had ripped open and brought Obi-Wan Kenobi from the future.

"And yet… the Force chose to send you here, to us. Now. Unbidden. For what?" Obi-Wan was frightened. He could not hide it. He stared at the hall floor for what felt like hours. Ben said nothing to disturb him. Eventually, soft voice made hard by the merciless silence, Obi-Wan asked: "What is coming?"

Ben turned and looked at him with apology and reflected fear. "There's no way for me to know. It's all shifted; I'm grasping at the dark. But…" He looked to his younger self and thought of Tatooine, of Mace, of Master Yoda's sage advice to the Council. "But the Force would not have sent me here in vain. There is hope, Obi-Wan. There is always hope." He thought of Anakin. He remembered the face of Luke, a visage interrupted by the breaks in time but no less luminescent. "We must trust in the Force and its guidance."

"Right," Obi-Wan agreed, numb like a youngling repeating his meditation lines. He could not comprehend their meaning. "Yes, of course." The words echoed in the vast, dark chamber; they felt very small indeed.