Disclaimer: I wish I could take credit for creating Star Wars, but alas, I am not George Lucas, and I have no intention of getting sued.

Summary: As Qui-Gon, Anakin, and Bant protect the Republic from Darth Sidious, another Sith Lord emerges – Qui-Gon's presumably dead, former apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi. Can the Jedi save the Republic, or is it already too late? The third story in the Jedi Trials series.

Author's Notes: School has been closed for two days due to cold weather. Therefore, in celebration, I decided to update. It's not extraordinarily long, yet I must say it's one of my favorite chapters of this story so far. I absolutely adore it, and I hope you guys like it to.

A little note: the first part is best when read with the second part of track 16 on the Episode I soundtrack (Qui-Gon's Funeral). It adds a whole different layer to the writing.

Revenge and Regret

By Kekelina

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Chapter Eleven: Flames

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The room was silent except for the crackling flames. Shadows danced on the walls; the acrid smell of burnt flesh and hair overwhelmed the grieving crowd.

The Jedi were saying goodbye to another one of their number.

Barriss stood in the front, closest to the funeral pyre. Her olive skin was wet with tears, yet her eyes, for this moment and this moment alone, were dry and accepting. Next to her stood Master Yoda, his attention rapt on the licking flames. To his right stood Mace Windu, hood of his dark robes pulled over his head, his eyes unfocused as he journeyed through a galaxy of thoughts and questions.

Directly opposite Padawan Offee was Yaddle, her ears drooping and her heart heavy with sorrow and the fate of the galaxy. Behind her, Adi Gallia and her cousin, Stass Allie, stood next to the Council members Saesee Tiin and Kit Fisto. Next to Kit, Aayla Secura sighed wearily.

It was behind Aayla where Bant, Garen, and Reeft (who had recently returned from a mission) silently honored Luminara. Hoods hiding their faces, they stared hard into the flames, willing the Force to admit that this was all some cruel joke, that tomorrow they'd wake up and the galaxy would be set right. Palpatine would be just a man, the Dark Side would not be growing, Obi-Wan would still be a Jedi.

But it was not to be.

The three Padawans in the back of the funeral chamber knew this. Hoods covering their faces in exact mirror images of their respective Masters, they discussed current issues in hushed undertow. No one deterred them, for many similar conversations were taking place in the chambers and across the Temple. The news was too grave not to be discussed.

"He always seemed so kind," Darra noted quietly, her eyes flickering from the charring remains of the Jedi Master to her two companions.

Anakin merely snorted, his eyes sweeping the roomful of Jedi. Qui-Gon was strangely absent.

"Yeah, when he was around," Tru added sarcastically. "Didn't you notice how often he was gone? I bet he wasn't on missions at all. I bet he was with Palpatine, making plans to rule the galaxy."

"Don't be ignorant, Tru," the golden-haired girl said with a slight air of superiority. "Yoda wouldn't have let him into the Temple if he had been a Sith for that long."

"Yoda didn't know," Anakin countered, coming to Tru's aid, stunned and upset that she would actually defend that murderer. "No one on the Council felt Kenobi turn. If they had, Master Unduli wouldn't be dead," he added darkly. And Qui-Gon wouldn't be locked up in his quarters, mourning that Sith scum…

His two friends remained silent, as if reading his thoughts. He growled darkly. This was all Kenobi's fault. Because of him, both his former Master and his current Master were hurting. Because of him, a Padawan was now Master-less. Because of him, the Force spoke warnings of dark days and of the loss of friends.

It was all the Sith's fault.

Why couldn't he have just stayed dead?

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"Kriffing Jedi," Dementor muttered with a grunt as he applied bacta to his badly burnt leg, a parting gift from Master Yaddle.

Palpatine's body smoldered in the corner as the dying flames disintegrated his aged skin. Jedi tradition or not, Dementor didn't want to stare at his betrayer's body any longer, another name to add to his list of traitorous Masters.

He didn't care anymore. Dementor had no Master. Dementor needed no Master.

He was the Master now. And a powerful Master he was.

When he struck, the Jedi would be no match against him. He would destroy their Order, making way for his own rule. The galaxy would bow to him, and the Jedi mentioned only as a hokey religion, not the guardians of peace and justice.

Peace, justice. Ha. There had never been such things. He would release the ensnared Republic of their delusions that the Jedi were great heroes by showing them that not even their revered Jedi could save their beloved Republic from his iron fist.

When the galaxy realized how blind they had been, they would thank him, honor him, love him. The rule of Lord Dementor would be talked about for milleniums to come, praised in the highest manner, and discussed with the utmost respect.

He would be a hero, and his revenge upon the Jedi would be complete.

"Yes, my Lord?" The voice crackled over the transmission.

"Fett, this is Lord Dementor." His voice was calm and precise, with an edge sharp enough to split a grain of Tatooine sand. "The Jedi have overcome my Master, Lord Sidious."

"I'm sorry to hear that," the bounty hunter on the other end of the comm transmission relayed, though his apathetic tone betrayed his words.

"As am I," Dementor lied coolly. "However, before my Master died, he adamantly insisted that I continue on with his plans. Unfortunately, his wounds were very grave, and he died before revealing the coordinates of Kamino to me." His face twisted into a wicked grin. "Since I know for a fact that you live on said hidden planet, I would be most gracious if you would give me the coordinates so I may fulfill my Master's dying wish. You will be rewarded quite handsomely," he added.

There was a pause on the other end, and, for a moment, Dementor feared he might not take the bait. But then, the comm crackled, and Jango's voice rang loud and clear from the hand-held unit. "Of course, my Lord. I will be happy to assist you as I have assisted Lord Sidious."

"Good."

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Twelve chairs lined the outer rim of the circular room at the top of the Southeast tower. The transparisteel windows gave way to the majestic skyline of Coruscant, the large city-planet abuzz with activity.

It was evening in this part of Coruscant; the orange glow of the sunset washed over the Temple, bathing each member of the Council in a warm light. Sunset was a time of serenity, but inside the Council chambers, the air buzzed with chaos similar to Coruscant's traffic lanes.

"We must protect ourselves against this new threat!"

"No one is disagreeing with you, Ki-Adi," Mace Windu replied solemnly. "But we cannot protect ourselves against what we don't know. We do not know what Kenobi is capable of."

"Strong he is," Yaddle chimed in with a sigh, "in the Dark Side of the Force. A dangerous enemy he is."

Yoda's gaze remained fixed on the shining durasteel of Coruscant's skyscrapers as the conversation continued around him. No conclusion would be reached that night, nor, perhaps, the next five. This was a deep loss for the Jedi and a dangerous one. Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a strong Jedi Knight, skilled with a lightsaber and wise beyond his years. Yet the Dark Side would make him even more so, and if the Jedi did not proceed carefully, Yoda knew he would destroy them all.

"What do you think he's fashioned himself?" Plo Koon spoke up for the first time.

"Does it matter?" Adi Gallia replied sharply.

Mace nodded in concordance. "Obi-Wan Kenobi is dead to the Jedi. He has chosen to follow the Dark Side."

"Mmm," Yoda sighed, placing one clawed hand upon his chin. It was a testament to his wisdom that everyone stopped speaking to allow the venerable green Jedi Master a few words. "Kinder, death would have been for young Obi-Wan, than this fate. Once traveled down the dark path you have, forever will it consume you.

"Mmm," he repeated, though this time to himself rather than his friends. He had always been fond of Obi-Wan. It had been Yoda who had discovered him, the four-standard-month-old son of a moderately wealthy businessman on the other side of Coruscant. He had trained the boy as an Initiate, watched over him, and observed his progress. Though Yoda didn't play favorites, he had always taken special joy in watching Obi-Wan interact with fellow Initiates, even when they impersonated him.

Yoda had been so fond of Obi-Wan, in fact, that when he learned that Qui-Gon would not take him as his Padawan, he had thrust them together on the same transport to Bandomeer, in hopes that Qui-Gon's stubborn mind would change. Thankfully, it had, but had it not, Yoda would've been most willing to take on Obi-Wan as his Padawan.

Yes, Yoda had been attached to the boy, as Obi-Wan had been to Yoda.

When had that changed? When had Obi-Wan, who had fought so hard to be a Jedi, been willing to give up his life and home for the powers of the Dark Side?

When had Obi-Wan first slipped into darkness?

"He's always hidden his emotions from the Council," Ki-Adi-Mundi was declaring, "instead of casting them into the Force."

"I've felt them as well," Saesee Tiin agreed. "But I never – "

"Never what?" Depa Billiba interrupted quietly. "Thought they'd lead him to the Dark Side?"

Shaak Ti sighed, stroking one of her striped lekku. "We've always warned against emotions. 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' The Code was created for a reason."

"Better Jedi than Obi-Wan Kenobi have been lost to the Dark Side," Agen Kolar commented. "We were lulled into a false sense of security by Palpatine. We reacted exactly as he wanted us to. Who knows what he might've told Obi-Wan to get him to join him."

Yoda nodded slowly, lost in thought. "Power and wealth I do not think he offered him. Something else, something stronger…"

"Perhaps never know, we shall," Yaddle added, her right ear twitching.

Yoda's gaze shifted out of the room, back to the chaotic skies of Coruscant. The sunset shone a brilliant blood red; flames danced on the durasteel exteriors of the magnificent buildings, reflecting up beyond the hazy atmosphere and into the stars.

On one of those stars, Yoda knew, a young man held their futures in his hands.

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The Other Author's Notes: Yoda's suspicions are closer to the truth than he realizes, methinks. If only they had realized that Obi-Wan had turned earlier, perhaps they wouldn't be in this mess. What'd you think about this chapter? Don't be afraid to review and tell me! Or perhaps you have predictions about future events? I'm all ears. Or maybe it's a question: I'll try to answer it as thoroughly as possible without giving too much away.

Author's Edit: 8-21-2007