Fallout

Chapter 3

"Hhmmmm." Master Yoda grumbled, rubbing one three-fingered hand over his ridged scalp, leaving the wisping ghosts of his hair standing straight up in tongues of white-silver fire. "A vision, you say?"

"No, master – not a vision. Something different. It was as though…well, as though the Force spoke to me." Obi Wan found himself uncharacteristically at a loss for words.

The ancient Jedi shifted his weight a bit, resting his clawed hands on his knees. Light slatting through the room's single window caught the fraying threads at the edges of his rumpled, aging robe. "Speak to us all the time, the Force does," he grunted. "Know this you do."

"Yes, master, but that's not what I mean. This was… I've never experienced it before. It was almost as though the Force was personal." He stopped there, appalled by his own near-heretical boldness. What would Yoda say to him if he were to suggest that the Light had seemed to contract and embody itself into an individual form, a presence so particular and warm that it might be called an individual? Most likely have him consigned to the mind healers' care for the rest of his life.

The ancient one waggled his ears humorously. "Think you are mad, I do not," he assured the younger Jedi.

Obi Wan managed a small rueful smile. "I don't know how to explain it," he said, spreading his hands palm-upwards. "Have you ever experienced such a thing, master?"

Yoda cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But yours, this experience was. Not mine. Matters not, does it, what I have seen or heard."

Ah. Forthright and clear advice as always. "It just seems…wrong. I don't trust it."

That earned him a stern wag of Yoda's finger. "Cautious, you must be. Trust it you do not, you say. But certain you are that from the Force this message came. Trust not the Force, do you?"

Not fair. Obi Wan shook his head. Seldom anymore did he struggle so helplessly. "Of course I do. But this…this is not the Force as I know it."

There was a silence between them. The sunlight continued to play on the worn edges of Yoda's clothing, the delicate fringe of white hair atop his head…the untrimmed whiskers sprouting from his ear. Obi Wan inhaled deeply. He could almost fill his lungs without a pang from his still-healing injuries. There was no reason why the healers should not release him. He could walk without passing out. A short distance, anyway. And he could certainly think more clearly if he could just escape the confines of the medical ward and visit the serenity of the gardens, or even his own quarters.

"Escape a conundrum by changing places, you cannot," Yoda snorted, reading his mind with alarming ease.

"Yes, master," he sighed. "But haven't you any insight to offer?"

The tiny Jedi's luminous eyes widened. "Oh! Humble and accepting of help you are, now. Come to Master Yoda for assistance you will, but not listen to Master Li. Make up your mind, you must."

Again, completely unfair. Master Yoda always turned a simple question into an unbreakable wrestling hold. "I'll not try Master Li's patience any further. I promise."

He meant it. Yoda watched him warily, thin mouth puckered into a hard line. "Very well," the old one said at last, apparently satisfied, or at least amused by his discomfort. "Insight you wish. Strong in the Unifying Force are you, Obi Wan. Luminous. A sure guide it is to you. But the Living Force, perhaps other aspects it has to reveal. Unfamiliar. Strange, from your point of view. Open you should be to such experiences, not distrustful."

"I see." At least, he was resolved to meditate upon it until he did see. And what Yoda said was true. Qui Gon had always reminded him that he had much to learn of the Living Force… and it was doubtless still true. The thought of his former master echoed dully in his chest, a long-healed yet never forgotten scar of regret. Yes. He could expand his horizons, if that was the will of the Force. He could do that for Qui Gon's sake.

Yoda nodded sagely and shimmied his way off the foot of the bed. He called his gimer stick back into his hand and leaned upon its gnarled haft. "Rest," he commanded. "And if another such message you receive, tell me at once you should."

"I shall, master. Thank you."

Yoda harrumphed something in dismissal – a curt good-bye, one that might be mistaken for impatience or disdain by one unfamiliar with the eccentric old Jedi. But Obi Wan understood the meaning very well. He smiled, feeling somewhat less unsettled. Besides, he had a promise to keep. And the best way for him to stop trying Master Li's patience was to remove himself from Master Li's vicinity, as soon as possible. That was worth meditating upon, as well. He set himself to plotting out the terms of this bright possibility…and if he fell asleep mid-scheme, it was not for lack of willing enthusiasm.

The Force had not blessed Anakin with a scholarly temperament.

Which was occasionally a great impediment to his own ambitious goals. He rubbed his flesh hand over his weary eyes and tapped impatiently at the data-station's keypad with his prosthetic fingers. Vape it… he hated research projects like this. But at least he would have something to show Obi Wan for all his trouble. It was worth it to buy a small window of "open-mindedness" in which to introduce his newest invention.

He decided that if he stayed here in the Archives another second, the dams of his self-control would burst and he would make an unbecoming scene. Force knew what dire consequence such a display would bring down on his head from Jocasta Nu or her minions- and he had no desire to find out for himself. Shutting down the terminal, he thrust his datapad, with its store of gleaned information, back into a belt pouch and stretched until his spine cracked ominously in the silent halls.

Somebody studying at a nearby alcove glanced up at him with a disapproving tilt of the eyebrows. Anakin ignored the implied reprimand and made for the exit. Now, more than ever, he wondered what had inspired his friend to inquire after the planet and the name in question. There were entries corresponding to both of them in the Archive records, but no apparent connection. He ran the odd assortment of facts through his memory as he traversed the Temple's sprawling interior.

Rhellis Massa was listed as uninhabited and uninhabitable according to the Republic Galactic Astrosurvey. A brief perusal of cross-indexed history files revealed that there once – more than a century ago now - had been civilization on the planet : colony settlements, two different species who never quite got along and eventually started a war in which primitive nuclear fission weapons had been the prevalent means of settling the dispute. Both sides had refused Jedi mediation, and eventually even mercantile transport interests offering evacuation services backed away because of the extensive radiation poisoning of the world's atmosphere and surface. The warring factions had nuked each other out of existence, and their former home had been a useless and toxic rock in a far-flung system ever since. There were no recorded attempts to rehabilitate the surface, primarily because there was no motive for investment. And nothing had changed or happened on Rhellis Massa in the last one hundred twelve standard years.

Sen Sen Xerxes was only slightly more interesting. He was a Jedi master – another relic of a past age, a respected member of the Order born more than two hundred years ago on some backworld Anakin had never heard of, and apparently of a species possessed of a long lifespan. At the ripe young age of eighty he had left the Jedi – at least, he had retired – in order to pursue undisclosed scholarly interests. The Council of the time, strangely enough, had approved this quest of his and sent him off with their blessing. He promptly disappeared into Wild Space and was never heard from again.

Yep. Obi Wan really knew how to pick winners. Two oddball bits of historical trivia, without the slightest relationship to each other. Anakin had tried (there is no try) to dig up a link or even a common thread, but in the end he had concluded that his researches were doomed and that if his master wanted to find out more he would vaping well have to do the grunt work himself. Still, he couldn't help wondering what motivated the request, Force vision or not. He was no further along in his attempt to form a coherent connection between these two disparate bodies of fact, and about halfway to his intended destination, when he found his path intentionally blocked by none other than the Grand Master of the entire Order.

"Master Yoda!" he exclaimed, concealing his surprise with a deep bow.

"Skywalker," the ancient Jedi chuffed. "A word with you, if you please."

Half the time when Yoda wanted a word with him, it was concerning a matter of disciplinary intent. In the past, that always meant that Obi Wan would always be there to soften the blow, either by pleading on his Padawan's behalf or deflecting some of the blame onto himself. The new Knight had not yet grown accustomed to facing the Council's displeasure on his own. He found himself wondering what he could possibly have done to attract negative attention – after all, he'd been closeted in the Archives most the day.

But it would seem Yoda was not in a mood to chastise. "Sit," he commanded, indicating a bench set against the broad concourse's inner wall. Anakin lowered himself, curiously, as the tiny master scrambled and huffed his way onto the bench beside him. Then, to the young Jedi's utter astonishment, one gnarled hand reached out and gripped his knee in what was unmistakably a solicitous gesture.

"Loyal friend are you to Master Kenobi," Yoda observed, by way of starting a conversation.

"He raised me. He taught me everything I know about the path. I – we're – well…" He came to a halt, aware that some things were always left officially unsaid. He didn't want a lecture on misplaced attachment. He wasn't sure what the sly old Jedi master was getting at, so he decided to shut up before he wandered into a verbal trap.

"Hmph," Yoda snorted. "To see him now, you are on your way."

"Yes, master." How did the ancient troll know these things? It was uncanny. Disturbing, even. "He asked me to do some research for him in the Archives. You know my mast- Obi Wan. His mind is always on the move."

"Like your feet, hm. Good pair you make. Balanced."

Was that a compliment? Now Anakin was truly feeling uncomfortable. "Ah…master? What did you want to speak to me about?"

Yoda studied him with half-lidded eyes, ears sloping downward in disapproval, as though he had somehow already missed the point. The ancient Jedi made a rough, throat-clearing rumble deep in his chest and nodded a few times. "Dangerous is this war. Much death for the Jedi, already and yet to come. Other suffering, too. Foreseen it I have."

Anakin felt the icy thrill descend along his spine. Yeah, he knew. He feared it. He couldn't lose anyone else, not now, not so soon after… hastily, he shoved the memory of Tatooine and the Tusken camp to the back of his mind. He was a Jedi Knight. That had never happened; it was consigned to the oblivion of the Force. There was only the present moment.

Yoda was watching him intently. "Stay close to Obi Wan, you should, Skywalker."

The chill passed fleet down his back again, cold lightning searing between each vertebra. Was that a warning? Did Yoda know something? He did not dare ask and he knew he wouldn't get a reply anyhow. "I give you my word, master. I will."

The ancient Jedi nodded one more time, gravely. He shoved his way to the floor, popped his hip joint back into place, and sighed. "Yes," he rasped. "Good. Much safer is it, that way."

And off he hobbled without a backward glance. Anakin watched him go, shocked that he found himself in such consonant agreement with Master Yoda. Then another thought struck him: what had the old Jedi meant by it was safer that way? Safer…. for whom?