A/N: Thanks to en-shaedn for helping me make this as suspenseful as possible.
"Very good," Dooku's bass voice echoed across the dojo with an unusual, encouraging lilt. Obi-Wan, panting for breath but not about to give up under the scrutiny of his grandmaster, nodded and performed the Makashi kata again. It was a fast and vicious kata, not the slow meditative kind common in Soresu.
"You favor your right side too much," Dooku critiqued, circling the padawan with a sharp gaze, arms folded behind him. "You cannot always count on your dominant hand, foot, and eye to be in the right place at the right time," he advised. "A Jedi Knight must master his whole body. Switch hands."
Obi-Wan did. He was used to doing exercises with his left hand - that didn't mean he was very good at it. His work was sloppier than before, anyone could see that. Strangely, Dooku said nothing about it. Instead, he waited until the padawan was done with the kata and repeated curtly: "Again."
Dooku was a relentless teacher, but he was not merciless. A padawan under his tutelage probably wouldn't have been able to see it, but any Master who'd taught enough students could've seen the care hiding beneath his intensity. He pushed his students hard, harder than they thought they could endure, but it was never so hard that they broke.
Ben watched the training session from the doorway. Obi-Wan's advanced techniques had drawn the eyes of several passing padawans and even a few masters, but it was Dooku, statuesque behind him that drew Ben's attention. His mind was far away from the dojo floor, lost somewhere back in the Senate building, retracing his steps.
Palpatine had been surprised to hear that Ben Kenobi had been to Alaris Prime. But that wasn't right, Ben thought. It'd taken a few days for him to realize why. Dooku.
Palpatine had been angry, yes, and understandably so. But hidden beneath the currents of rage, there had been an unmistakable twang of surprise. Surprise that it had been Ben on Alaris Prime. But he should have known, Ben realized later. He should have known all the details about the mission days ago, the information relayed to him by his apprentice. But he hadn't known. He'd been unprepared. No one had told him about Ben's role on Alaris Prime.
But just days before, Ben and Yan Dooku had discussed the mission at length over wine. How had Palpatine had not heard of it?
After a great deal of thought, Ben was forced to conclude that either Dooku was an incredibly mistrusting apprentice who was willfully hiding pertinent information from his master - which would paint him in a nigh suicidal light - or, and this was an absolutely enormous or - Dooku was not a Sith apprentice at all.
It was difficult to imagine. Master Dooku. Not Count, not Darth Tyrannus. Just Jedi Master Yan Dooku, Jedi Shadow and Makashi master.
"Well done that time." Dooku's praise was clipped with subtle derision. Still, Obi-Wan seemed pleased to hear it. "One more time." The padawan started again.
Dooku's face was impossible to read. Across the dojo, Ben's mind was flip-flopping in desperate patterns, trying to rationalize the implications of Palpatine's surprise and Dooku's silence, and what he would do about it. Put in this situation in another place and time, he would have been happy to watch and wait, stand by as Dooku stepped fully into the light or the dark. But this was the here and now, and here and now Ben did not have time to watch and wait.
"Master Kenobi," Dooku called, jerking Ben from his thoughts. Obi-Wan was sitting in the middle of the dojo now, covered in sweat and decimating his second cup of water. "You've been hovering there long enough. Come inside, and tell your nephew how he can fix his lefthand guard." Obi-Wan turned to look at him, obviously unaware that he'd been watching for so long.
Ben pushed up off the doorway and strolled into the arena. "He likely already knows what most of them are. Nothing that practice won't fix," Ben said. "He's a natural swordsman. The gaps will fill themselves in, given time."
Obi-Wan might've blushed at the praise, but he was already bright red from exercise so it was hard to tell. Dooku's eyebrows raised. "A generous assessment, Master Kenobi." He glanced at his grandpadawan, whose braid was beginning to look more and more out of place of late. "But a fair one." Then, to Obi-Wan he said, "You ought to remember your high guard. Pick it up too slowly, and it gives your opponent an opportunity."
Obi-Wan nodded, still panting and grinning. Yan Dooku could not dole out compliments unaccompanied by critique, but even that had its own shade of approval. "Yes, Master."
Dooku turned back to Ben. "I don't suppose you'd like to stay for a bit? It's been awhile since I've fought a master of such caliber as yourself." There was a competitive glint in his eyes. Obi-Wan seemed excited by the prospect.
Ben, however, was aware of his own state of mind. He could not clear his head for a fight. Unbidden, memories of his fight with Pong Krell resurfaced. If that master could elicit such vivid flashbacks in his memory, what on earth could Dooku do to him? He gave an apologetic smile. "Though I am sure it would be an honor, Master Dooku, I am afraid I have to decline. I have many duties today, and cannot be seen limping out of the dojo." Dooku chuckled.
"Very well, another time. Have you come to spectate, then?"
"Actually, I've come seeking a word with Obi-Wan," Ben tipped his head, and Obi-Wan looked up at him, suddenly attentive, still dripping with sweat. "However, I think it can wait until after he's cleaned up a bit."
Dooku nodded. "Of course. I shall leave him to you, then. I have other appointments to keep." He gave them both a polite smile and swept out of the room.
Ben looked down at his younger self, who was still sprawled on the floor. "He always leave you in such a mess?" he asked.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Most of the time. But Qui-Gon does the same."
"Qui-Gon at least works for it, rather than ordering you through katas till stars fall."
"Eh," Obi-Wan shrugged, and stood with grunts and groans. "I'm learning a lot." The fact that he could admit this was, Ben thought privately, one of many reasons Qui-Gon must've thought he was ready for knighthood. Obi-Wan began shuffling toward the showers. "What is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
Ben followed after him, looking around the echoing locker room suspiciously. "Nothing we can speak about in public."
Obi-Wan looked around the room of stalls and shrugged. "We're the only ones here, Ben."
Sighing, Ben waved a hand, and both doors shut and locked with a hiss. "It's about Alaris Prime," he said, as Obi-Wan hung up his belt and began to strip. "It's… complicated. I trust Qui-Gon filled you in on the details?"
Obi-Wan disappeared behind a curtain, but his laughter was still audible. "Yes, gundarks and Wookiees and something about lice. I don't envy you." The water turned on, and Ben had to raise his voice slightly above the din.
"And did he tell you about the Trade Federation?"
"Yes, he mentioned it. Droids. He said you were rather… disturbed by it. Was it really an army?"
Ben sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Yes. And I doubt this is the last we'll hear of it. The thing is…" There was no way to explain clearly.
He must've stood there, pinching his brow and thinking for some time, because after a few minutes the water turned off and Obi-Wan asked, "What is it?"
Ben looked up at crossed his arms. "I put your name on the report."
"What?"
"I… I said it was you and Qui-Gon who went on the mission, not he and I."
"Why?" Ben could not see him, but the confusion was evident in Obi-Wan's voice.
Ben struggled to find the words. "The army we found, the droids. They're not just some slapdash thing put together by the Trade Federation. It's bigger than that. There are certain… people who are watching that mission unfold very closely."
Obi-Wan appeared from behind the curtain, a towel about his waist, brow furrowed, very slowly unfolding his trousers. "The Sith," he concluded, and looked to Ben for confirmation. The elder nodded. Mind now reeling, Obi-Wan stepped into his trousers and shook out his tunic.. "But… why does it matter?"
"This Sith knows who I am." Obi-Wan's head snapped up to stare at him in sheer panic, so Ben put out a placating hand and amended, "I mean he knows me as Ben Kenobi, he doesn't know I'm…" He gestured to Obi-Wan. "You know. But he knows me, and he knows that I'm the one who killed his apprentice."
Obi-Wan nodded. "And… you didn't want to get involved in another one of his affairs, give yourself away." Obi-Wan was trying to work through the problem. "But… where do I come in?"
"That's just it," Ben lamented, coming to lean against a locker across from where Obi-Wan was sitting down to put on his socks. "I don't know the details of why I did it." It sounded so ludicrous. "The Force led me, and I acted. He cannot know that it was me. The only thing that made sense was to say that it was you. Which… it was, in a way."
Obi-Wan's face twisted in stern consideration, and for several long moments he was silent. "I suppose..." He mused at length. It did make sense for an apprentice to go on a mission with his master. It was unusual to have two masters go on a mission together when one of them had an apprentice waiting around at the Temple. "I suppose that will raise fewer eyebrows," he said eventually.
It was a fair point. "I'm close to him," Ben explained. "Close enough to keep an eye on him. But if I get too close, get involved in too many missions with his… plans, he'll start making sure I can't do my job. Maybe that's why I changed the report," he shrugged. He hated this feeling, the need to put personal interests above other people. But were they really personal interests? It was hard for him to tell. "The Force guided me, but I should have consulted you first. And now I've gotten your name mixed up with the Sith because of my own actions. I wanted to tell you so I could apologize." He paused, looked down at the floor and added, "You know… I don't think the report has gone through yet, I can ask to amend it."
Obi-Wan was quiet for several moments while he finished straightening his tabards and obi, buckling his belt. Eventually he stood and said, "Don't change it. My name is listed alongside my master's, which is as it should be. And if this…" He struggled to say the word; years after Darth Maul, it was still hard to admit the truth. "...Sith now perceives me as a threat, I'll take that as a compliment." He smiled. Ben shook his head.
"It's not right. I shouldn't have gotten you mixed up in this, especially not for my sake."
"I would have gotten mixed up in it eventually, Ben," Obi-Wan told him, folding his arms. "As a Jedi, it's my duty to stand against darkness, against the Sith. This is my job. If I had been there, I would've told you to do the same thing. The Force guided you, and the Force will present a solution." He realized what he'd said, and winced. "Force, I sound like Qui-Gon."
Ben actually laughed. He sat down on the bench next to his younger self and said, "That's not a bad thing."
"No, I guess not." Obi-Wan smiled, but it faded quickly. He chewed at his lip. "This… army." He glanced up at his older self, looking for answers. "What is its purpose?"
Ben drew in a long breath and sighed it out slowly. He hadn't intended to tell Obi-Wan the full story, especially not so early on. But things had changed. "He's going to try and start a war. He needs two armies to do it, so that he can force us to choose sides."
It was a very simple plan set on a massive scale. Even at twenty-two, Obi-Wan had seen enough of the world to recognize the plot. "And he's the only one who can bring peace, I suppose?"
"That'll be his gambit, yes."
Obi-Wan nodded. "This droid army is the first one."
"Yes."
"And the second?"
Ben was not ready for that conversation. There were still too many factors in play. "We will cross that bridge when we get to it," he said. He was surprised when Obi-Wan nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer.
They sat in mutual silence for a while, listening to the drone of the fans overhead. Obi-Wan ran a towel over his hair and then spent several more minutes trying to comb it into submission.
"You said you know this Sith lord," he said, not looking at Ben.
"Yes."
"Do I know him?"
"No, thank the Force."
"And he's the master?"
"Yes, I killed the apprentice."
"That was years ago," Obi-Wan pointed out with some apprehension. He set the comb aside. "D'you think he's found a new one?"
Ben glanced at Obi-Wan and thought of Dooku. But Palpatine hadn't known. He'd been surprised. And Dooku was… what was he? A giant grey question mark. "I don't know," Ben said, truthfully. Obi-Wan nodded and stood.
"Alright. I'll tell Master Qui-Gon about the change later today, so we can-"
"Now hang on," Ben interrupted, "I should tell him. This is all my doing, I need to explain."
"I can do that," Obi-Wan countered. "It's as much my plan now as it is yours, Ben. Had you involved me before hand, I would've taken the risk anyway. You're not fighting the Sith on your own. I know there'll be certain risks to… to being me."
Ben looked at him, frustrated. He wondered to himself if this was the sort of self-sacrificing nonsense that had driven Anakin and Cody mad during the war. "But it wasn't your own choice," Ben protested.
"It is now. And I'm choosing to own it and tell my master about the whole thing myself. So you will get to tell him," a wry grin spread over his face, "from a certain point of view."
Ben had no way to respond to that, so he sighed heavily. Obi-Wan chuckled.
"Hey!" cried a frustrated Jedi from the other side of one of the locked shower doors, "what's the big idea? Is anyone in there? Let me in!"
Ben flustered, "It's, ah, maintenance! Just a moment, Master Jedi." He tried to sound mechanical. Obi-Wan cast him a thoroughly unimpressed look.
"Maintenance?" He whispered. "That's the best you can do?"
"Oh, just go," Ben shoved his shoulder toward the door on the opposite side of the room. Manipulating the Force in a flippant manner entirely unbecoming of a Jedi Master, Ben hastily unlocked both doors and fled the scene. By the time the sweaty, frustrated Jedi finally got through the door, both Kenobis were gone.
Over the next several days, Obi-Wan and Ben suffered the cost of explaining their 'plan' to Qui-Gon and Mace, respectively.
Qui-Gon was baffled and furious at Ben for dragging his apprentice into such a mess, but before he could move to the door to hunt Ben down, Obi-Wan had stepped up to put his own master straight.
"I assumed the risk myself," he snapped, raising his voice in an authoritative tone Qui-Gon was not used to hearing, especially in private. "He made a decision, and I've decided to support it."
"It could put you at risk," Qui-Gon shot back. "It wasn't his choice to make."
Obi-Wan didn't let down. "I'm a Jedi, this is my job. If I had been there, I would have told him to do exactly what he did. He followed the Force's guidance - or isn't that what you would have me do?"
"Obi-Wan, this is a Sith, who has whole systems and organizations at his bidding, that's who he's just exposed you to."
"That's who you've exposed yourself to, need I remind you, but you don't seem too concerned about that," Obi-Wan retorted. Silence. Softly, he continued, "No, I wasn't really there. No, it wasn't Ben's choice to make. But it's mine now, and Sith or no I know it's the right thing to do. I can feel it - can't you?" But it was the faintest of feelings, the slightest whispers telling him to step forward, just one step at a time.
But Qui-Gon had never been one for seeing the future. He could not respond. His apprentice sighed and said, "I'm not a child anymore, Qui-Gon. Let me do this."
The master's will crumpled; humbled and sad. "No," he said. "You're right."
There was a strained silence as they both absorbed the unexpected shift in the atmosphere. To patch the disintegrating hierarchy between them, Obi-Wan said, "If they start going after you, my place is at your side."
Qui-Gon mustered a smile. "Of course," he said, although it felt profoundly unfair.
Across the Temple, Ben was having a far less melodramatic time of explaining his choice to Mace. At the end of the day, the only real explanation that he could offer was that he had acted according to the Force's direction. This logic, though it enjoyed significant respect within the Temple walls, was still a dissatisfying answer when dealing with Sith Lords. However, Mace Windu had far weightier matters on his mind than a single name on a mission report.
"I'll expedite the report on through the Council. If the Senate is as restless as you say, we won't want to give Palpatine any extra time to sweep his mess under the rug."
And that was that.
"There is still the matter of the clones. I've been looking for any points of contact that Sifo Dyas might've had in the temple, but have had no luck so far."
"None?"
Mace shook his head, looking out the window of his quarters. "A few old mission reports, some log entries. Nothing substantial. For a former Councilor, he hasn't left much paperwork behind, and even less in way of friends or contacts." He sighed, and rubbed his face. "I didn't realize it would be this bad."
Ben was chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to decide whether it would be wise to speak. "I may know of someone to ask," He said.
"Really? Who?"
Ben bit his lip, hard. He wasn't going to like it. "Yan Dooku," He said.
Mace's hand dropped from his face and hit his knee. "I'm sorry?"
Ben shrugged, drawing breath for a prepared defense. "Mace, he knows more about Sifo Dyas than perhaps anyone else in the Order."
"No," The Master of the Order's word was final. "We can't ask him. Even if he has information, we can't ask him, we can't tell him why we need to know about Dyas. For all we know, he could be reporting to Palpatine right now."
"Mace... I don't think he's a Sith," the words fell out. Did he really believe them?
"Really?" Mace said incredulously. "And what makes you think that?"
"Well…" a feeling. A guttural, primal feeling that welled up from that spot in his soul that received direction from the Force. But it was not uncorroborated. "Palpatine didn't know it was me," Ben said. "I changed the name on the report so that he wouldn't be able to connect the dots, but the fact that he didn't see through my lie is because he didn't know any better. Dooku and I talked about Alaris Prime just days after I returned - if he were reporting back to Palpatine, I wouldn't have been able to get away with changing that report."
Mace closed his eyes and shook his head softly, trying to comprehend what he was hearing. There were too many claxons firing at the same time. "You told Dooku about Alaris Prime? No, wait… you lied to Palpatine's face? Honestly, Ben, I can't decide which is worse." He stared at the man. "And you honestly think that because you have - or at least, it appears that you have - gotten away with it, that means somehow that Dooku is innocent?"
"Well…" Ben really hated talking with this man sometimes. He always managed to make everything Ben said sound utterly absurd. He huffed. "Yes."
Mace's eyes bore into him, searching his very soul for answers. If the man found any, they were not the kind he'd been looking for. "Dooku is an unknown, Kenobi. As much as I would love to be able to consult his knowledge, we simply can't trust him."
Ben held his tongue. The word of the Master of the Order was final.
"I have a few more contacts to speak with in the legislative district who may be able to provide us a lead. Continue your search here - and keep Dooku out of it."
If Mace did not want Ben to consult Dooku on the matter of Sifo Dyas, then where in the nine hels did he expect him to look? Holed up in front of a private console in the Temple Archives, Ben scrolled through the news holograms with partial interest.
"More on this story at nine, when we will also review this year's worst moments in celebrity fashion…"
"...a new precedent today in the Galactic Supreme Courts, after the ruling on Hosnian Prime Cabinet versus the Condular Pilots' Guild-"
"...-tensions running high at the Galactic Senate this week as rumors circulate on a possible investigation into the dealings of the Galactic Trade Federation, with some reports claiming that Vice Chair Mas Amedda is calling for sanctions following what are, as of now, undisclosed infractions by the Federation leaders. We will bring you more information on this story as it becomes availab-"
"-terGalactic Banking Clan and the wider Republican community are saddened by the news. Hego Damask II was just a few months shy of his eighty-fifth birthday when a friend found him in his apartment late last night. It appears the renown banking mogul Damask passed peacefully in his sleep. In light of his death, the IGBC will be taken over by one of Damask's top employees, San Hill, who gave his condolences to the-"
"-oruscant Weather Commission has promised blue skies and breezy afternoons after last week's inconvenient rain cycle. Lower level occupants should be on the lookout for elevated chances of electrical storms as the sinking humidity mixes with the incoming warm air-"
"-down fifteen points already from last quarter, taking a sharp nosedive after Vice Chair Mas Amedda's comments to the G-RAN took the holonet by storm. Federation PR associates have yet to respond for comment on this developing-"
"Master Ben!"
Ben jumped, turning to see whose voice had cut through the daze of holonews.
"Aola!" He broke into a smile. The Twi'lek padawan bounded to him in long, happy strides, ignoring the Archives' rule of silence to smile brightly at him and say,
"Long time no see!"
Ben chuckled and stood to give her a hug. "Likewise. I would have seen you weeks ago, but I understand you were a bit preoccupied." He pulled away and gave her a questioning eyebrow. "And?"
She was unable to keep her smile from growing. "I'm done!" She squeaked, and Ben smiled with her.
"Congratulations, Padawan - excuse me, Senior Padawan Tarkona," Ben bowed in mock formality. Aola giggled.
"Thank you, Master Kenobi." She looked around at the console he was using, replete with all kinds of newsfeeds, paperwork, and reports. "What are you doing here?"
He glanced back at the small library he'd collected, a heap of false leads into the affairs of Sifo Dyas. "Oh, nothing much," he said. "A slew of old projects. Nothing promising, I'm afraid." He turned back to her. "And what about you?"
She jerked a thumb back at the main desk of the archives. "Just returning the last of my textbooks. I can't believe I'm done!"
Ben chuckled. After a moment of thought, he closed out his session on the console. "I think I shall be done for the day as well." He glanced at the desk, where Jocasta Nu was serenely tending to her carts and droids, looking very pointedly not irritated. Ben knew better. "Come on, we'd best be gone before your excitement spoils the atmosphere."
After they were out of the archives, Ben was happy to walk side-by-side with Aola, who was becoming more of a woman and less of a girl at eighteen standard years. The crests of her indigo lekku reached nearly to Ben's ear, so he had to look only slightly downward to speak with her.
"I hear you and Master Jinn got up to some trouble on your last mission," she said.
"Oh? And who told you that?"
"Obi-Wan," she replied. "Apparently Master Jinn talked about it for hours, and managed to work in a lecture or two on the way." She shook her head. "Poor Obi doesn't deserve it. He's been cooped up long enough as it is."
Ben remembered Qui-Gon's annoyance at his ignorance and felt guilty. "Well, when you are a Jedi Master, you can decide what your apprentice does and doesn't deserve. I'm sure Qui-Gon was just making up for lost time."
"That's what Obi-Wan said," Aola told him, peering up at him with a funny little smile. "You and he are a lot alike, you know."
Ben's smiled faltered. He glanced down at her and thought of what he'd told Qui-Gon in the jungles of Alaris Prime. She deserves to know. "So we are," he said absently. Struggling with his mouth, he started to say, "Aola, there's something-"
"Oh look!" the Twi'lek pointed, "There's Obi now. Obi-Wan!" She called, and the taller apprentice turned to see them both.
"Ah, hello. Where are you two headed?" The elder padawan asked.
"I just found Master Ben in the archives, we were catching up since we haven't seen each other." She smiled at the master, who replied in kind, more subdued. "And what about you?"
"I was about to get some lunch - care to join me?"
They agreed and joined Obi-Wan on his path to the refectory. Ben resolved to speak with Aola at a better time. For now, let her see the Kenobis and their similarities through the lens of ignorance.
Their meal was a pleasant family affair, Obi-Wan and Aola acting like siblings and Ben as the spectating uncle, catching up on each other's affairs and asking for the juicy details of Ben's assignment to Alaris Prime. He indulged them, mostly for Obi-Wan's benefit - if his involvement in the mission were ever to come into question, he'd have to be prepared.
Eventually, Aola rose and excused herself, saying, "Master Gard has a meeting late tonight, so our spar's moved up to this afternoon. Force be with you both,"
"And also with you," said the Kenobis, Ben painfully aware of how similar their voices sounded. Aola did not seem to notice.
"I ought to go soon too," Obi-Wan said, finishing up his second helping. "I have training with Master Dooku in a few hours."
"Oh?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "It was supposed to be Qui-Gon and I today, but he got called in to sub for Master Radaaak's Ataru class last minute."
"I see."
They chewed in silence.
"Obi-Wan," Ben asked eventually. The apprentice looked up at him. "What do you think of Master Dooku?"
Obi-Wan frowned and swallowed his bite. "How do you mean?"
Ben lowered his voice so that others would not eavesdrop. "You've said yourself that he is a rather… grey individual."
Obi-Wan considered this, and shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I guess I thought that, for a while. Maybe he is grey. I don't know."
"But?" Ben guessed.
"But he's not a bad Jedi," Obi-Wan concluded.
Perhaps it was the war and years of bias weighing him down, but Ben blinked and had to say, "I don't understand."
"I mean… he's not a light Jedi, sure. But he's not dark. He was a Sentinel, years ago, so I can't really blame him if he's a bit rougher around the edges than the likes of you and me. But that doesn't make him bad." He looked down at his plate and picked at what was left of his bowl of rice. "I know he still makes Qui-Gon uneasy, and maybe that will never change. But Qui-Gon doesn't stop him from teaching me, and I'm learning a lot from him - a lot that I know is right. He's not dark. He toes the line, but he's a good Jedi, deep down."
Deep down. That was the problem. It was too inconclusive for Ben's liking. "I see," he said eventually, not knowing what else to say.
"Why do you ask?" Obi-Wan turned the question on him, looking very curious indeed.
Ben drew in a breath, and considering trying to explain. In the end, he let it out in a huff and said, "Just trying to get the lay of the land."
The following day, late enough to avoid presumption and early enough to avoid a rebuff, Ben Kenobi knocked on the door of Jedi Master Yan Dooku.
The door slid open, and a smile spread across Dooku's face. "Ah, Master Kenobi, what a surprise. A good afternoon to you."
"Master Dooku," Ben smiled back. "A few days ago, you offered me a standing invitation to a duel," he said.
"Oh?" the taller man chuckled. "Yes, I do recall. Shall we make an appointment in the dojo, then, if you're so eager?"
"Actually, Master, I wondered if you would like to share a friendly game of chess instead," Ben said. "I find it can be a far more constructive endeavor than sabers."
Dooku's smile hardened in competitive zeal. "Indeed it can, Master Kenobi." He paused, and stepped aside to let him inside. "I'll get the board ready."
For any other matchup, an afternoon would have afforded ample time for three, perhaps four games of chess. But Yan Dooku and Ben Kenobi were both master strategists in their own right. Pitted against each other, the match lasted for hours.
This was by design. The unrushed intellect of their duel gave them time to talk. Dooku was a man of refinement and subtlety. Ben was a man of supreme intuition and integrity, the sort of man whose very presence invites company to let down their guard. Put together, their conversation was very keen.
It took hours to make any headway with Dooku. In the end, Ben found that the key to this conversation was a young boy who'd won both of their hearts.
"What are your intentions toward Anakin?" Ben asked rather suddenly, interrupting Dooku's contemplation of Ben's bishop. Dooku glanced up briefly, but ultimately turned eyes back to the board.
"I've told you already, Master Kenobi, I intend to train the boy."
Ben set aside his protective urges and hummed thoughtfully. He pondered his own pieces and moved a pawn innocently forward to pass the turn to Dooku. "I admit, Master, I did not see you as the teaching type, before you began tutoring Obi-Wan."
Dooku chuckled at this, studying the board and not looking up to say, "I suppose not. Qui-Gon is my only living testament to masterhood, and he's set himself rather far from my teachings. I thought he would make a fine Sentinel, back in the day."
"Are you disappointed in him for choosing another path?"
"No, of course not. It was not the will of the Force." He moved a knight and sat back.
"Do you see Anakin becoming a Sentinel, then?" Ben asked, rubbing his beard as he considered Dooku's queen.
Dooku shrugged. "I admit, I do not have the gift of foresight, Ben. But I do recognize potential in the boy, utterly unrivaled by his peers. He will do great things, and I know firsthand that the Sentinels could use such talents. Especially in such dark times." His expression sobered, and Ben looked up from the board to see Dooku wilt slightly, looking older and more frail than he ever did in public. "You know," he said, free to speak as Ben was occupied with his turn at chess. "I would never have considered it, years ago. I'm getting far too old to teach, much less raise up another generation."
"I would hardly say that, Master, you show Obi-Wan what for every other day," Ben pointed out, and hesitantly moved a pawn. Dooku waved a dismissive hand and leaned over the board.
"I do, yes, every other day. I only run him through his katas so often because I know I can't keep up with his stamina." The admission gave Ben pause. "I may be a Makashi Master, perhaps the very best alive right now. But I'm not the young man I once was. These are dark times, and I have no hope of being the Sentinel I want to be, the one the Order needs right now. I'm far too old for that." He slid a bishop a few squares away from Ben's knight, and leaned back again, knees popping. "My prime is well over. The galaxy is darkening with every passing day - surely you feel it."
"Yes," Ben said.
Dooku nodded. "Those who don't who must be blind. There are too many fools in this order. I'm powerless to stop them on my own. The Jedi Order is mistaken in so many ways."
"How so?" Ben asked, quietly.
Dooku's eyes seemed to glaze over, as if gazing across to some far-off horizon. Ben dared not move. "About ten years ago, the Council asked me to lead a unit of Jedi to the Galidraan system to suppress a violent group of Mandalorians who were slaughtering political activists there," Dooku told him. "The confrontation was one of the bloodiest of my career. Half a dozen Jedi, killed in minutes. Even more Mandalorians, slaughtered on our blades. My own apprentice bragged the most kills - and what kind of boast is that?"
"Qui-Gon?" Ben asked, confused.
"No, he's long been his own master. This was a different apprentice… I never saw her knighted."
"I'm sorry," Ben said. Dooku shook his head.
"She did not die. Just… did not graduate."
"Oh." Quietly, Ben took possession of one of Dooku's knights, which the other master seemed too distracted to register.
"After the fact, I found out that the entire battle was a farce. The Governor had both the Mandalorians and the Jedi in his pockets. He manipulated our systems to play puppetmaster. The Council let him - they sent me and a dozen other Jedi into a bloodbath for no better reason than a politician's lust for power." He shook his head, and considered the board. "This Order is not prepared to overcome the darkness if even our Council cannot see it."
"No," Ben agreed, and thought of Mace Windu, and all that he'd learned through Ben's life. Was the Korun master too over-invested to see clearly?
Dooku took a brisk inhale, and moved a bishop in a particularly cutting angle to remove a pawn and a rook from Ben's resources. "Damn," the younger man whispered. Dooku smiled.
"I very seriously considered leaving the Order after that," Dooku went on. "That battle was so pointless, so ill-considered that I couldn't face the Council for my anger towards them. My apprentice left, and then I left soon after her. I had no real intention to come back."
Ben looked up at him. "But?"
Dooku nodded. "But then I got a call from the Acquisitions Division who'd somehow tracked me to Alderaan. They asked me to pick up a small boy by the name of Anakin Skywalker," Dooku said, with a fond, soft look in his eyes that Ben could not reconcile to the memory of Count Dooku. "And lo and behold, that ridiculous boy made me want to come back here again." He moved a rook to guard his king. "And here I've stayed, for hope of seeing him grown into his path."
"I see," Ben said, emotion pricking at the back of his throat. He thought back to all the times he'd seen Dooku at the creche door and resented him for it. He felt guilty. He took one of Dooku's pawns. "And what do you think that path will be?"
Dooku shook his head. "I've already told you, Ben, I am not one for foresight. I can see the looming darkness, and I can see the fools who ignore it. But I've also seen a young boy who might just prove something better than the darkness," he shrugged, and took Ben's second rook. "And for old men like me, waiting on something like that becomes something of a pastime." It felt like an understatement.
"Slotted in alongside drilling grandpadawans in their katas, apparently," Ben jibed, smiling as he studied the board.
"Quite so, Master Kenobi."
The game was long. In the end, the only pieces remaining were two kings and Dooku's solitary bishop. "It appears, Master Kenobi," he said, drawing up his eyebrows in a way suggesting he had not had opportunity to make this pronouncement in a very, very long time, "we have reached a draw."
Ben looked down at the pieces, his single black, Dooku's two white. There was no possibility of checkmate. And yet, it was Dooku's bishop who still ran about the board with speed and mobility. "So we have," he said, and glanced out the window. It was growing late. "Thank you for the match, Master Dooku, it is always a pleasure."
"Indeed it is, Ben," Dooku smiled, and the kindness behind it made Ben uncomfortable, because he already knew that his heart had made a decision. "And please, do call me Yan."
It could not hurt; a new name for a new person. "Very well, Yan," Ben said, and bowed. "May the Force be with you."
It'd been awhile since Ben's meditations had been interrupted. Through the grapevine of the Force that only supremely insolent grandmasters had access too, Master Yoda sensed this and came to amend the problem.
"Troubled, you are," he said, which made Ben start violently and turn to glare at the small Jedi, who hrumphed his ancient laugh. Grass rustled against the hem of his robe as he shuffled closer to where Ben was sitting, barefoot, in the gardens. Sitting down, Ben was the same height as Yoda, and they stared at each other eye-to-eye.
"So I am," Ben said, because there was no use hiding it.
"Troubled about the future?" Yoda asked, "Or the past?"
Ben sighed heavily. "Neither," he said, "and both."
"Hmm. Accuse Master Yoda of speaking in riddles, you do," he prodded Ben with his stick. "A hypocrite, you are."
Ben shook his head. "I apologize, Master. I mean that I am troubled over the differences between the two."
Yoda lowered himself to sit beside Ben in the grass, short legs bent so that his clawed feet met in the middle. "Change, you wanted. Change you have made." He looked up at his grandpadawan with patient green eyes. "But know what these changes are, you cannot sense."
Ben sighed. "There are almost too many changes, now. Everything is different. I can't trust my own knowledge anymore. I don't know who to trust. I have to let other people help me, I know that. But it's hard to tell who is on my side."
"Side?" Master Yoda exclaimed, ears perked. "Unaware I was that Obi-Wan Kenobi was his own side," he said in an overly incredulous tone. He glanced up at Ben to see that the point had landed. "On what side are you, Master Kenobi?"
The question baffled Ben for a split second. "The side of the Light," he said eventually. "The side of life."
"Hmm," Yoda nodded, pleased with this answer. "Always moving, the Light is. So it must, for the diversity of life. Sequester yourself to one corner of its rays you must not, Obi-Wan." Ben couldn't help but glance around them, hoping no one else heard the grandmaster call Ben by his true name. Yoda seemed unworried. "Follow the guidance of the Force you must."
Ben was afraid he'd say something like that. "But master…" he trailed off, feeling like a youngling seeking the solution to a problem he'd been presented in class. In years past, Yoda had sat with young initiate Obi-Wan to mull over such dilemmas. Now, he did so with Master Obi-Wan, quietly offering support without granting explanation. "How do we know where our own ambitions end, and the Force's guidance begins?" he asked, screwing up his brow in fierce confusion. "I have acted rashly in fear before, Master. I do not want to make the same mistake again."
"Hmm," Yoda seemed to consider this. "Act rashly sometimes we must, to follow the Force's direction. Considered this have you?"
"Yes, Master, against the judgement of my betters."
Yoda chuckled merrily, eyes scrunching up in old laugh lines. "Do your master proud, you do. But the will of the Force, is it? Search your feelings."
I have been for hours, Ben wanted to say. But he made a nominal effort and looked inside. He saw his motivations only how he'd left them: confused, muddled, and needing to move.
"Hmm," Yoda drew out the syllable as only a eight hundred year old creature could. Ben often wondered if Yoda could see others' thoughts before they'd arrived in the minds of their hosts. "If act rashly you do, act in fear, would you?" He asked. Ben thought hard on this.
"No," he said eventually.
"Afraid are you?"
"Yes."
"Of what?"
Ben swallowed, staring ahead into the air. "Of what the Force may be asking me to do," he said.
Yoda nodded, and stood. He came to stand in front of Ben and rested both foreclaws on his gimer stick. "Then overcome your fear you must, young Kenobi." He gave a small, craggy smile. "Sometimes, to move from one beam of light to the next, only to step we have. But sometimes, leap we must." The shriveled old master began to walk away. "Patience, forbearance paves the path of clarity," he quoted Ben from years long past, "but in the end, always act we must."
Ben watched him go, and heaved a colossal sigh.
No one, except perhaps the Force itself, was going to like this.
The following day, as the sun beat down toward the horizon, Feemor strolled back to his apartment with his padawan Aola in tow. He yawned hugely.
"Master," Aola scoffed, "tired already? Surely you're not that out of practice."
"Insolence," cried Feemor, stepping through the door, "insolence and disrespect. I will have you know that being a master is tiring business. And one day, you will have a horrible padawan of your own to mock you in your old age."
Aola only shook her head, and headed straight for the kitchen cupboards. "I think there's a message for you," she said, glancing at the comm on the counter, which sported a blinking red light. Feemor came over and pressed the button to playback the message aloud.
A huge, crackling sigh could be heard. "Feemor… I'm afraid I'm about to do something incredibly brash, and possibly very, very stupid." It was Ben Kenobi's voice. "Qui-Gon won't like it. Neither will Obi-Wan. Mace Windu may or may flay me for it." Another deep, distressed sigh. "I really wish you had answered, then someone might've talked me out of it. Being that you haven't, I would like to put this down for the record, just in case Qui-Gon kills or maims me before I can remind him: I act only as the Force guides me. He taught me that, so he really oughn't complain." Another sigh, shorter and more anxious than the two preceding. "Force help me." The transmission cut off abruptly.
All humor and fatigue gone from his face, Feemor stared, horrified, at the comm. Aola eyed him.
"Master?"
Feemor did not look at her. His eyes were moving in minute patterns, trying to decipher the panicked tones of the message.
"Master?" Aola tried again. "What is he talking about?"
Feemor said nothing. He took up the comm again and called Qui-Gon.
"Jinn."
"Master," Feemor cut to the point immediately, "have you seen Ben recently?" He checked the time on the message, "Within the past hour?"
"No," Qui-Gon said, tone calm but quickly abandoning the feeling for panic by association. "Why? Oh, wait, Obi-Wan's just walked in," he moved the comm away from his face and asked, "Obi-Wan, have you seen Ben recently? Feemor's looking for him." A soft muttering noise, unintelligible.
"What was that?" Feemor asked.
"He says he saw him heading to Dooku's apartments not too long ago," Qui-Gon said, still unsure as to why he should be alarmed. "Why?"
Feemor's face, normally a healthy, glowing brown, went sooty grey. "Chssk," he cursed, and darted from the room.
"Master?" Aola set her would-be dinner aside, and hesitantly began to follow. She walked, and then jogged to catch up with him. "Master, what's going on?"
Unfortunately for Feemor, the damage had already been done.
Approximately half an hour before Feemor received the message on his comm, Ben Kenobi had knocked on the door of Yan Dooku's apartment. From the cosmic plane of eternity, the Force watched as he prepared to leap.
