FYI: I'm many, many chapters ahead on another website so I'm posting updates fairly frequently just to "catch up." I've a few chapters in the "document manager" but it's a bit more difficult (though not hard) to update here.

Chapter 28. Food for Thought

Rumors – a natural outgrowth spawned of unanswered questions and conjecture in any situation where any two or more beings attempted to find understanding where there was none to be found – began to spread its tendrils born of curiosity into hushed discussion throughout the Jedi Temple.

Just what had transformed a relatively routine mission into something with consequences yet to be fully understood?

Jinn and Kenobi - widely thought of as perhaps the best example of a Master-Padawan team currently in the Temple, had parted ways. Though he still wore the braid, the younger man was neither knight nor padawan. He had no title but one – Sith Killer.

Yet his deed on Naboo went all but unacknowledged, as if the deed was touched with something best left to silence or whispers. Tainted.

By the Sith.

A mythic enemy thought long destroyed; an enemy risen yet again – and slain. In the battle, three had fallen. One to death, one to a fatal wound that was not and one to – what?

It was only known that Jinn had renounced Kenobi though saved by him and though both had been injured, Jinn had all but recovered from physical wounds while Kenobi still suffered from mental wounds – a cloistered prisoner due to a broken mind or from more ominous things? Kenobi was not yet whole though no one was exactly sure from what he suffered other than the ignominy of being cast aside.

Speculation built slowly: had Kenobi been set aside for cause or not?

Far more likely, some thought, that the Force had sent the Jinn-proclaimed Chosen One to succeed Kenobi rather than replace him and that it was the Council who had stood adamant, unwilling to advance the one to accept the other; that it was they who had forced Master Jinn's hand.

Jinn and Skywalker triumphed; the Council and Kenobi gave way.

Was the boy that Jinn championed so important to the Force that Kenobi had to be set aside?

As for the gulf between former master and former padawan, was it an irreparable gulf of guilt, unbridgeable even should forgiveness be asked and granted in return?

Just what had happened on Naboo?

"Hmm." Mace sat back, unaware of the scowl plastered across his face. It was how he greeted – unexpected information – just as Yoda's ears would prick up or turn down. Depa Billaba, his former padawan and fellow Council member had left him a short message, her weekly update.

It was not unexpected. It was not yet something to worry about. Depa would let him know when and if action needed to be taken.

Until then he was content, like Yoda, to let the Force handle things as they handled those affected.

Mace relied on his former padawan almost as much as he did on Yoda for a feel of the pulse of the Temple. Jedi spoke of and about things in their presence that they did not in his. He understood and accepted that: his role was not that of sage counsel, or understanding confidante but that of disciplinarian and leader. To each their strengths. Few spoke freely in his presence and those who did were those he counted friends, Jedi who could and did speak their minds and were not afraid of a good "discussion" or in the case of Qui-Gon Jinn, "argument."

Temple rumors were a natural outlet for those concerned about their colleagues. Curiosity and concern were allowed free reign.

The Council would only have to get involved if the rumors got out of control.

Mace dabbed at his lips and then patted his stomach in an outward show of satisfaction. It had been a delicious meal, and one quite unexpected. He had been in Council all day and returned hungry and tired to find that Obi-Wan was ready with this culinary surprise, a meal that had taken time to prepare. He had not been idle this past afternoon.

"Delicious, Obi-Wan. You're quite the cook."

A flash of bright eyes and a grin preceded words both mirthful and mournful. "Lessons, Master. Surely you haven't forgotten that seldt-cake."

Mace couldn't help shuddering at the reminder of something all but forgotten (it was better that way). A young padawan, over-eager and none-too-adept at actually reading and following a recipe (and who had later confessed he had thought he could "amend" the ingredients and make it uniquely his), had made dessert for his master and guest one night not many months, or perhaps just weeks, into his apprenticeship. For some reason, both Qui-Gon and he, but not young Obi-Wan, had been in and out of the fresher all that night. Mace had not been pleased. He had, in fact, been most displeased.

Throwing up was so undignified.

Not to mention that he had earlier been expounding "words of wisdom" to a young padawan, fueled no doubt by a slight overabundance of alcohol, about how a Jedi always had control over his reactions, no matter the provocation. He had been forced to eat – well, regurgitate – his words. In front of a fresh-faced padawan and his snickering master. Qui-Gon had not snickered long, felled by the same malady – two Jedi masters, laid low by one wide-eyed padawan and his Sithly concoction.

He had unleashed some unkind words about the boy as he'd raced Qui-Gon to the fresher. He had not even had to call priority as a guest and/or Council member as he'd been just a step or two closer to the fresher in the first place.

"I expected to be on my way to Agri-Corps within the week after that," Obi-Wan admitted candidly.

Agri-Corps! Why would Obi-Wan have thought – oh! It was an unwelcome reminder of just how out of line he had been. He hadn't meant it, of course, but he had murmured to Qui-Gon how perhaps they may well have been spared had not Obi-Wan been saved from that fate only to doom them to a night on their knees.

"You heard that? You weren't meant to. Obi-Wan, I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you said much worse – it was hard to hear exactly what you were saying with your hand clapped over your mouth. I was so afraid Master Qui-Gon was going to be in almost as much trouble as I was; I even wondered if I could throw myself on your mercy to spare my master." Obi-Wan dropped his eyes and his fingers twisted in his lap. After a pained sigh of remembrance, he continued bravely on, "I was sure that even if you didn't send me away, Master Qui-Gon was probably going to renounce my apprenticeship unless he really wanted to be nasty - punish me by sentencing me to at least a week of eating Master Yoda's stew."

At that, both men involuntarily shuddered.

Mace was appalled at the misery that clearly had so blanketed the boy at the time – and he had been oblivious, entirely oblivious to those careless words.

"You didn't think I belonged with the Jedi …I didn't ever want to face you again, but I knew had to," Obi-Wan gulped, "if I wanted a chance to prove myself."

Mace wasn't sure what to say to that - I'm NOT that intimidating. Am I? - but then, when Obi-Wan's eyes were raised to his, they were sparkling with humor. Oh, I fell for that way too easily.

"Of course I wasn't panicked all that long - I got sick a day or so later myself and cursed Master Qui-Gon with every breath I could spare."

"Qui-Gon? Why would you curse Qui-Gon?"

"Because it was his fault for not supervising me," Obi-Wan answered with a wicked glint to his eye. "He always thought I should learn my own lessons rather than be taught them – and learn from my own mistakes. He amended that rule to exclude cooking after that."

"Oh, I see," Mace murmured, strangely amused at a padawan's logic.

"After that I knew you didn't mean what you had said just like I didn't mean Master Qui-Gon should really - well, you probably don't know want to know…." Obi-Wan blushed and shut up.

Actually, Mace did want to know: wanted to know if Obi-Wan's long ago wishes were half as or perhaps even more inventive than his own. He'd known and been friends with Qui-Gon most of his life; over the years each had come up with some rather – unique – ways of venting their differences.

He was about to ask when he saw a muscle work in Obi-Wan's throat and realized the boy was suddenly fighting off an onslaught of grief, woken by the memory. "Hey, now," he said as gently as he could, laying a hand on the Jedi's shoulder and squeezing it. To his relief, Obi-Wan swallowed hard and nodded.

"Sentimental me," he murmured.

"You feel sentimental over being sick?" Mace put all the astonishment in his voice he could and earned a slight smile in return. He had not expected that caring for Obi-Wan, watching him deal with his successes and setbacks would have much of an impact on his own life. He had stepped forward and taken on the responsibility as much out of duty as personal desire: he had been present shortly after the breach of the master-padawan relationship and forced almost by circumstances into acting.

More than that, though, he owed a duty to both Qui-Gon as his friend and Obi-Wan as his friend's padawan, a duty both personal and professional; Mace was already charged with watching over Obi-Wan should ever Qui-Gon be incapacitated.

Yet impersonal duty had become personal satisfaction, his day in small part measured by Obi-Wan's day. From relishing his detachment from others he had come to relishing the connection to another.

It had been a long time since someone had shared Mace's quarters and shared his thoughts, fears and joys with the senior Jedi. He was honored to be the recipient of the young man's honesty and trust when he confided his uncertainties and doubt. Obi-Wan was not his padawan, nor in most respects, a Jedi in need of guidance. He was a padawan ready to be a knight, a man not boy, yet one set back in that journey by injury.

He had no reason to share himself as freely as he did with Mace, for that kind of trust was usually earned, not freely given. Yet, for some reason, Obi-Wan was as open with Mace as a man of his quiet and more reserved personality could be with anyone – as he had been with Qui-Gon, once upon a time.

Was this a consequence of his damaged Force connection? Without the Force to sustain and support him when he was in such dire need, had he latched onto someone – to Mace – as a substitute?

Was this a reminder, a lesson for Mace - for all the Jedi? Were the Jedi, each and every one of them, more attuned and more connected to that life energy than to each other and others outside the Order? It was an uncomfortable question, in many ways, hitting perhaps too close to the truth for Mace's comfort.

None on the Council currently had padawans; few went on missions with other Jedi. Other than Yoda and Yaddle, few spent much time in close company with the larger community of Jedi.

Was it possible that the Council was becoming too removed from those it guided, too caught up in decision making that they sometimes forgot those charged with carrying out those decisions and the impact on those on whom their decisions fell? The Force may have taken advantage of this difficult time for Obi-Wan to impart this lesson. It wasn't a deliberate decision to be insular, but perhaps the Council should make a deliberate choice to mingle more, listen more, and observe more.

This time of healing for one was perhaps meant to be a time of learning for others, to be looked upon as a gift rather than an obligation. Mace was the privileged one in this instance and while this time was not one Mace would have wished for he thanked the Force for the opportunity to learn and grow from the experience and in small way contribute to the well being of a fellow Jedi.

There was little doubt, though; the bulk of the work fell upon frail shoulders – and a strong will.

If a full recovery was possible, Obi-Wan would achieve it, on that Mace had no doubt. Sheer determination and dedication would see to that, just as those same attributes had created a promising knight-to-be from a rather ordinary youngling made of equal parts of fiery temper and a fierce devotion to helping others.

And now – Obi-Wan was finding new parts along with the old, changed parts along with the familiar, and discovering discarded parts by their absence.

It was fascinating to observe how he painstakingly sought to make himself whole once more.

Reassembling himself was like working a puzzle: some pieces fit and some didn't. Some seemed to match, but the join was awkward and soon proven false; those pieces needed to be pried apart. Like a puzzle, the final product would only come with steps backwards as well as forwards, so it was that there still were times Obi-Wan was withdrawn and quiet, barely interacting with anyone while there many other times he seemed nearly his normal, exuberant self.

All of which was "perfectly normal," Mace was given to understand when he and Yoda spoke to the healers, just as it was not considered "not at all unusual" that Obi-Wan had reacted so badly after coming face to face with his former master and the padawan that had replaced him at his side.

Before Mace could quietly explode at the presumption that Obi-Wan's reaction had been purely internal to what had clearly been external provocation, the healers pointed out that regardless of implications or motivations, the actual spoken words themselves were not evidence they were meant to give offense.

"Anakin does not need to be exposed to – well – my duty is protect him."

As much as Mace hated to admit it, the healers were correct. Those had been the very words that they had finally dragged from the young man.

"Remember, acknowledging his pain by no means lessens that pain," had been the healer's final words.

Mace was no happier, but his flash of anger had subsided. Still, he did all that he could; he asked Yaddle to pass on the Council's "recommendation" that for the sake of all, Qui-Gon and Anakin attempt to avoid any interaction with Obi-Wan.

"Such, Qui-Gon said, 'is my intention'," Yaddle reported back in the next Council session. "His focus remains firmly attached on his padawan, affection I sense there and a determination to do what's best for the boy. Despite the charges he leveled at Obi-Wan before the Council I sense no malice in his intentions – he is quite genuine in his wish to avoid any confrontations and quite sincere in his belief that Obi-Wan may be tainted by his actions on Naboo and that we, the Council, are unwilling to give objective consideration to this possibility."

"We have addressed this issue before," Mace growled.

"But not to Qui-Gon's satisfaction, Mace – or to the Force's, he believes. Sensed I did his concern that a taint, should one exist, may have been passed to him through Obi-Wan. A perfect opportunity to express concern about his padawan it was, and, er, inflame his protective instincts. Even as I left, he was contacting the healers to set up a full health review." Yaddle smirked.

"Well done, Yaddle," Mace said admiringly. That was good news indeed, good enough to crack a smile over.

"The truth we want, Mace; knowledge not validation of our perspective. Too muddied the Force has been, unable to see clearly none of us have."

The reminder sunk like a greased vibroblade into flesh. Questions and answers both were obscured in wispy fog, blocking the Force from full illumination of the landscape of behavior and motivation. How else had the Sith reemerged without notice?

Mace rubbed his eyes. He hated unanswered questions.

Was it mere happenstance that the Sith slunk out of the shadows at the same time the shadows descended upon perhaps the best master-padawan team in the Order, effectively destroying the team's service to the light?

Or had the two Jedi merely been hapless victims, pawns of fate chosen by only circumstance and timing?

Had the Force truly been speaking to Qui-Gon, urging his championing of young Skywalker, its urgency somehow twisted into chaos and pain as the "Chosen One's" champion did all within his power to assume his role of guardian and guide, even to casting away the one he already mentored at the Force's behest?

Thinking about all this was giving Mace a headache; Yoda's next words didn't help.

"Perhaps too quick we have been to dismiss Master Jinn's – concerns," Yoda put in quietly. Mace stiffened; surely he held no doubt regarding Obi-Wan. Before he could protest, he saw the warning in the wise old eyes.

Swallowing his questions, he relaxed into his seat only to tense as the discussion continued. Surely some of the Council was not – he frowned and stared at his fingers, heeding Yoda's earlier warning. His head came up sharply and he frowned when the last words registered: "There is a shadow within the Temple and we've all felt it, whether we're aware of it or not."

It was – kind – of Master Tinn to use "we" in that sentence, Mace thought, his eyes slowly circling the room. At least none of his colleagues seemed the least bit uncomfortable, indicating at least the concern was not yet alarm; no eyes shifted away from his and none held his too long.

He slowly nodded; his fingers steepled before him and all too aware that beside him, Yoda sat hunched and quiet, eyes shuttered.

He let out a slow breath.

It was true. The shadow might not be of darkness, but from an abundance of light. It might be a stain of tension and unease bleeding into the Force, fallout from Naboo and the encounter with the Sith.

But it was a shadow, seen in the corner of the eye or an itch in one's cognizance. It had to be faced – and given a name. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach warned him what he would be a fool to ignore.

Someone would likely want to give it the name "Kenobi."

"Something's troubling you, Master."

"Nothing for you to worry about, Obi-Wan," Mace replied matter-of-factly, sitting down with a cup of steaming tea shortly after the end of the Council session. The young man was too well trained to dispute that, though the elder Jedi sensed disquiet underneath the calm façade. He was quickly proved wrong, for Obi-Wan did just that – speaking up as a knight to a master, rather than keeping silent as a padawan to a master, his words even and without inflection.

"And if I'm at the heart of it, shouldn't I have a chance to defend myself?"

Mace put down his datapad and narrowed his eyes. "Why should you need to defend yourself against something that has very little – if anything - to do with you?"

"So it's true; I'm involved in some way."

"Peripherally." The reassurance only seemed to agitate Obi-Wan; out of habit he unconsciously reached for the Force. It reached back eagerly, but Obi-Wan did not seem to notice, drawing back before the connection could be made.

"Are you thinking of sending me away?" Obi-Wan was on his feet now, his voice rising.

"Obi-Wan; sit. Now." Mace caught the slim shoulders and forcibly sat him down. "Where'd you get an idea like that? No one is discussing sending you away – why should we?" His fingers tightened. "Why would we?"

"Why are you, then?" Obi-Wan was not in the least appeased; his hands were tightly clasped on his thighs, his knuckles white.

"Obi-Wan – believe me. Please. No one is discussing any such thing!" And they weren't, as Mace well knew. His sincerity finally got through to the young man, for he let out a soft gasp and bent over, shaking fingers cradling his face. What had put such an idea in his head in the first place? Shaking his head in bewilderment, Mace resorted to the tried and true, a cup of hot coca and a warm throw around the shoulders.

And waited.

He had waited out the numb misery and the tears and watched as healing reduced those incidents to near-memories. He was now seeing firsthand the flashes of anger he had earlier been warned about that had been all but absent before now. Much to Mace's chagrin, he realized, he had fallen into the very trap the healers had warned him against, of mistaking Obi-Wan's very real progress as success far too early in the process.

The taut tension gradually eased. Before shame and guilt at his emotions could creep in to replace the released fear and anger, Mace quietly spoke.

"What put that idea in your head – and for Force's sake why didn't you ask me if it was true before deciding it was?" He had decided to adopt the gently stern but patient Master-attitude Qui-Gon had so often used successfully on his padawan and hoped he would learn firsthand now how well it covered the I'm-worried-but-I-will-not-reveal-it attitude that lay behind it.

"Then I wait a few seconds for the sigh that precedes his words," Qui-Gon had said, a little chuckle in his voice.

A sigh preceded his slow wipe of a hand through the brush of his hair. "I heard them. 'Obi-Wan is crazy and what kind of Jedi can't touch the Force?' Am I? Perhaps I should be sent away so I don't hurt anyone. I don't want to hurt anyone. I was coming back from the healers." Though the voice was dull, the words were quite clearly enunciated.

"First of all, you are not crazy, you are damaged and second, as you ought to well know, Senior Padawan Kenobi, an injured Jedi is never 'sent away' for being injured. The mental damage you've suffered does not make you crazy; it makes you forget things and get a bit emotional at times, hardly anything that would cause harm to anything but your self-esteem." Mace waited a long moment until the color returned to Obi-Wan's face and he nodded, a bit sheepishly.

"Look at me, Obi-Wan." Mace tipped up the chin until their eyes met. "This – conversation – is just further proof that you are not yourself yet, young man. No one faults you for that. You should not let idle chatter affect you so."

"I'm sorry, Master Windu." Hands scrubbed uncertainly over weary eyes.

"Apology accepted if not needed. Obi-Wan, there are gaps in your mind, we both know that. Should there be a next time, Force forbid, I want you to ask me, or Yoda, or someone before you accept any kind of such talk as truthful. I promise you that any talk of your future will involve you when and if such becomes necessary; let me assure you, as well, that this is your home and no one is thinking you should leave it. No one."

"I don't think Master Jinn wants me here." Stiffly, Obi-Wan got up and wandered over to the window, hands clasped behind his back.

You're right; he doesn't. Mace closed his eyes and carefully released his breath. "He doesn't want you and Anakin to be in contact," he said instead. "And we agree, Yoda and I. There's no point in adding to your pain."

Obi-Wan merely placed his fingers on the window and leaned his head against the cool transparisteel.

If it were possible, Mace thought, he knew what his heart would be doing right now.

Aching.