Part Thirteen
Anakin was beyond frustrated. It had been a month, a whole month since Obi-Wan had assigned him an essay to write about why Jedi couldn't let their emotions control him. A month. And Anakin still wasn't done yet. He was so ready for this to be over. He couldn't believe that Obi-Wan still hadn't accepted any of the drafts he'd given him. Seriously, what more did his brother want?
...And the worst part was how sincere Obi-Wan was. There was no anger at all whenever he looked over whatever Anakin submitted. Merely a tired sigh, a disappointed frown, and a quiet refusal that it wasn't good enough.
Obi-Wan had sat down with Anakin for long discussions, explaining Jedi, emotions, control, detachment, and a whole lot of philosophical stuff that just soared high above and over Anakin's head.
Yet whenever Anakin included what Obi-Wan talked about in his essay, it was summarily rejected.
"I want you to learn, Anakin. You hear me, you understand me, but you have not learned. I'm sorry, but you need to do this again. Don't simply repeat me. Think and learn from it."
It was enough to drive a kid insane.
There were times where Anakin was tempted beyond measure to just scream and yell and rant and rave at Obi-Wan, because surely, surely, something in any of the two dozen attempts of the essay was salvageable. Anything.
But he'd expressed anger in front of Obi-Wan before and it never worked. Obi-Wan would just stand there, immobile and unmovable until Anakin finally petered out of energy. Anakin didn't even feel better after all of that, because Obi-Wan just didn't react.
Anakin didn't know what else to do for this echuta essay.
And Obi-Wan didn't rejoice in his frustration and inability to write this karking essay. Indeed, Obi-Wan occasionally seemed as frustrated as Anakin was and kept trying different methods to explain things for Anakin to help him learn.
This just made Anakin feel even more like a koochoo, because Obi-Wan was trying to teach him something. Something essential. And Anakin just didn't get it.
It was all so irritating.
They had just settled into a new apartment since old man Jafan had evicted them. Their new landlady, a kindly old lady named Mrs. Hudson, had took them in with a wide smile saying that she would do anything for the man who had saved her granddaughter from the rubble after the invasion. Anakin was glaring at a new blank file on his datapad, trying to think of something to get this stoopa essay started again.
"Anakin," Obi-Wan sat in front of him quietly. "This isn't working."
"I know," Anakin growled. "I'm trying."
Obi-Wan gave a soft chuckle, mumbling "There is no try," in an imitation of that tiny Yoda guy that had denied Anakin the right to be a Jedi.
Anakin sighed, put down his pad, and looked to Obi-Wan, expecting another lecture, attempting to explain whatever it was that Anakin wasn't getting.
"Come Anakin. Let's take a survey."
Anakin fell forward. "Whaaat?"
They spent the rest of the day and the better part of two weeks interviewing just about everyone they came across. They interviewed all of Anakin's teachers, fellow tenants of Mrs. Hudson, the grocer where they bought their food, shop owners all along the marketplace, shoppers, Obi-Wan's former coworkers in construction, Obi-Wan's new coworkers as a mediator, anyone and everyone. Anakin took to keeping a datapad on him at all times for whenever Obi-Wan would randomly stop a person for this ridiculous survey.
As per Obi-Wan's instructions, Anakin took careful track of all the data they were collecting and reorganized each night before sitting down to meditate with his brother. Anakin didn't ask the questions, Obi-Wan did, since Obi-Wan was apparently looking for specifics that Anakin couldn't grasp. This led to side-questions that Anakin then had to figure out how to work with in the data. The only things that remained steady over the course of the survey were the opening questions. Aside from basic data like age, and various statistics, the first question was always "What do you do?" followed almost immediately by "Why?" After that, Obi-Wan's questions varied, making Anakin struggle each night to categorize the answers into something that made sense.
He'd gone to Obi-Wan after a few days of data-collecting, saying that the survey needed to have set questions in order to be able to do any sort of analysis.
Obi-Wan had smiled gently, a twinkle in his eye, and replied that Anakin had been getting a constant flow of data that would be pertinent to his essay, Anakin just didn't see it.
Needless to say, Anakin was getting irritated again.
He was sitting on the bed in what was supposed to be his own room, but what he used more for studying and tinkering. (He would still crawl to Obi-Wan's room, thank you. It kept the nightmares away.) He was glaring at the datapad in hand. How was he supposed to sort all this data? About the only thing that he could actually analyze was occupation and basic stats. As far as he could tell, he had a fairly good slice of Theed's population and their distribution across various jobs and trades. But that tenuous question of "Why?" that Obi-Wan always asked that always led to questions not on the survey was what always refused to settle into neat little categories. And from what Anakin could sense from Obi-Wan, it was that data, the stuff that resisted analysis tooth and nail, that held the key to finally getting his essay done and correct.
Anakin was beyond fed up.
There was a polite knock on the doorframe and Anakin looked up to see his brother standing there quietly. "Dinner, Anakin."
Food! Something he could understand! He raced to their small kitchen (not kitchenette! A real kitchen!) to wash up and eagerly sit down with whatever delicious food Obi-Wan had decided to make that evening.
As was their tradition at dinner, the two of them started to discuss their days. Obi-Wan was settling into his new job as mediator and negotiator very well and had done yet another successful negotiation that day between Naboo's plumbing union (since all construction trades seemed to request Obi-Wan specifically, but that was no real surprise) and a local contractor who was running out of funds and trying to cut corners. Anakin talked about his day at school and, begrudgingly, admitted he'd landed in detention again for spacing out.
"I was trying to figure out all the data we've got," he grumbled. "I didn't mean to..."
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "You weighed the pros and cons of paying attention in class and decided you could skip your education to work on what I have given you."
Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan put things like that. It made him feel guilty, because he was finally able to even have an education. His classes and learning was important to him, especially since slaves were denied anything beyond reading, writing, and only the most basic maths. He never wanted to waste the chance to learn, but this survey was beyond puzzling and Anakin just wouldn't back down from it. And it was supposed to teach him something important.
"I weighed your lesson as more important than my teacher's," Anakin grumbled. That was closer to the truth than the way Obi-Wan had put it.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Then I won't add more to your detention. You are correct, the lesson I'm trying to teach you will likely be more important than what you're currently learning in school, but that doesn't give you carte blanche to skip out on other educations."
Anakin squirmed in his chair, still uncomfortable about having been caught not paying attention in class and the whole concept of his education and skipping out on it, something he'd never wanted to do. It just didn't feel right.
Obi-Wan smiled.
"Well, speaking of our survey, how is the analysis coming?"
Anakin's frustration with it boiled over. "I don't get it, I just don't get it! You say that all those extra questions you were asking were getting to the point of whatever it is, but none of their answers match at all! There's nothing in common!"
"With the specifics, no. But you need to look deeper."
"I know, but I don't know how much deeper I can look!"
"Ask him those questions, Anakin. Then you'll have your own answers."
Anakin didn't even stop to question that he'd just heard Qui-Gon talk to him directly, because he was just beyond aggravated, he didn't see what he needed to see, and he was just getting so sick of it.
"And what to you do, Obi-Wan? What's your job?" he demanded.
Obi-Wan's smile practically glowed. "I am a Jedi."
"Wrong!" Anakin shouted back. "You're a mediator! A negotiator!"
"No, Anakin, that's simply how I earn credits. I am a Jedi."
Anakin would not be sidetracked. "And why did you chose to be a Jedi?"
"Because of a desire to help people. I did not believe myself destined to be a farmer. I always thought that I could help people more directly."
Farmer? Anakin shook his head. Not getting sidetracked! Even though those opening questions were the only consistent ones and he didn't know what questions were supposed to come next, he still fired away. "What is it about being a Jedi that you like to do?"
"The ability to help others." Obi-Wan stood and started to clear their plates. "All across the galaxy, people suffer. Whether it's through circumstances, their own doing, or somebody's cruelty, it doesn't matter. As long as someone is suffering, I will do what I can to alleviate it. Because if I don't step forward to help, who will?"
"You gotta family?"
"Quite the extended one. The entire Jedi Order has been my family from the moment I arrived at the Temple."
"Close family?"
"Two have been particularly close. My master, Qui-Gon Jinn, who saw my potential despite my own idiocy and anger issues, and a difficult little Padawan who seems set to be the death of me."
Anakin would not let the warm little glow in his heart that Obi-Wan had finally claimed him as family, though not brother, show on his face. He was still supposed to be irritated. "And how does being a Jedi affect them?"
"In every way imaginable. Which is why I will always be a Jedi. For them. To honor and help them. And everyone else I can see."
And suddenly, just like that, understanding flickered in Anakin's mind before spreading like wildfire.
Oh.
Oh.
Being a Jedi wasn't just a job. It was a way of life. Jedi might go out and negotiate treaties and help clear up disputes and act as ambassadors, but the official religion of the Republic was the Jedi. Being Jedi was a state of being. A way of always helping others, putting others first. It had nothing to do with whatever rules or laws were there at the Temple, it was about being selfless all the time. Not because it would give you a reward, but because one simply was.
But to help others meant not getting angry all the time. This wasn't just about all that "must keep a clear head" stuff Obi-Wan had been talking about so much, it was about how, if Anakin was angry, he wasn't able to help people anymore. And deep down, in a part of his heart long buried to hide from Watto and Sebulba and the bravado needed to survive on Tatooine, all Anakin really wanted to do was help people. Like the fruit-lady at the market place in Mos Espa, like his mother, like that Tusken in the desert. Like Qui-Gon. Like Obi-Wan. He told himself that he helped them because they were nice to him and important to him. But the Tusken Anakin had helped, under different circumstances would likely have killed him. Yet Anakin had helped anyway. Because he couldn't not help someone hurt like that.
That all changed when Anakin was angry. When he was angry it wasn't about helping others anymore, it was about himself. What he felt what he wanted to do so that he could feel better, even though later he never did. Which was a running theme with several of the people they had surveyed. Several had chosen careers that they wanted for themselves, something to benefit themselves. It was all about them. But for all of those people that chose for only one person, there were just as many who chose their profession for others, who had a desire to do something for others. And even that was an oversimplification, because the average person had complex intertwined reasoning that involved a little selfishness and a little selflessness, particularly when it came to their own family.
But a Jedi didn't just act selflessly. They were selfless. And anger just got in the way. It was why it was to be ignored, put aside, then released to the Force so it wouldn't fester into something uncontrollable. Jedi preached how they couldn't let their feelings rule them, but really, Anakin couldn't see how love couldn't guide people to selflessness or happiness or joy could lead to not being selfless. But anger... yes, Anakin could see why letting anger guide anyone would be selfish.
"Very good."
Anakin wasn't sure of that was Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon, but his head was still spinning, so he didn't even try to puzzle it out.
... He really needed to start nurturing that desire to help others. And not to make Obi-Wan happy or proud, but because Anakin always wanted to be a Jedi and that's what he needed to do.
Well, he'd get plenty of practice for that.
Obi-Wan would be leaving for Coruscant at the end of the month for the trial of Nute Gunray. They may have tight credits, but Anakin was determined. He'd start helping people more often and not worry about his own situation with Obi-Wan and how long it would take to save enough to buy his mother's freedom or get lightsabers, or stuff like that. He'd start helping people because he wanted to and he'd been stifling that impulse for too long.
"I think you can write that essay now, Anakin."
Panaka had disappeared to talk to the pilot, ever mindful of security. Padme watched him go before walking the narrow halls. She was still adjusting to not being surrounded by handmaidens. After over a year of being surrounded by look-alikes that helped her get things done she felt oddly isolated. None of it showed on her face, however, as she stepped into a booth and settled herself for take off. Travel to Coruscant would take perhaps a week, certainly not the three it had taken the last time she made the journey. She wondered if she would see Palpatine again, but her old mentor was now the Supreme Chancellor and likely very busy. He had made it very clear to her that he wanted desperately to take part but couldn't see how.
In the end, Padme decided, that was probably for the best. She didn't want the trial of Nute Gunray to get any special treatment - even the perceived bias of one former Naboo senator.
Sio had left her with several files and reports of Gunray's occupation. She found it very odd that Sio didn't come, nor any of the other members of the governmental staff, but then Padme reasoned that there wouldn't be many people left to take care of Naboo if something happened.
No, Obi-Wan would take care of it, and the thought made her smile. She wondered if he had testified yet, or if it would come later.
The room vibrated suddenly, and the deeply muffled drone of the engines warming up started to filter into the room. She got up to see out the viewport - Panaka's caution forgotten, and watched the hangar she had just been in shrink as they climbed to orbit. She could see the start of the spaceport construction (that would be years in the making) and she thought of the former Jedi again. Her office had been flooded with reports about the strikes, but per Obi-Wan's advice she kept her distance, though no one in or on the governmental staff could miss her opinion on the matter. For a while she had been concerned that Obi-Wan had over estimated his skills, but the about-face the private litigators did - literally overnight, apparently - made her remember just what a Jedi, former or not, was capable of. She later heard that so many people had come to ask help in union negotiations he had to leave his job as a laborer and start up a business. That little tidbit had made her smirk. She never understood what made him pick construction in the first place, and she knew that this job would suit him much better. Padme had already decided, if she were elected a second term, she would assess his practice and then hire him out for her own negotiations.
"Your Majesty," Panaka's voice groaned, "Windows."
Embarrassed that she had been caught, she pulled away from the ever-shrinking sphere of Naboo, a protest on her lips.
Three hours and a lecture later, Padme was still grumbling as she entered the galley. She stopped when she saw the object of her earlier thoughts sitting at a table alone. Obi-Wan had somehow managed to cross both of his legs onto the chair, knees dangling out over nothing, his eyes closed in meditation. It struck her suddenly how much he reminded her of Master Qui-Gon on Tatooine. No matter what time she woke up he was always sitting at the table, eyes closed in meditation before the day started.
Not wanting to disturb him, she quieted her footsteps and asked the chef to prepare a quick meal. Tray full of a fiber-and-protein soup, she also took a bottle of instant tea. Panaka came in, already investigating the security of the galley, it seemed, and in a huff Padme marched over to Obi-Wan's table and took a seat. She set her glare to "See? I'm sitting next to a Jedi so I know how to take care of myself, thank you," and started to eat. She knew Panaka was bristling, but she steadfastly ignored him until his sweep was done and he was gone. Or at least hidden.
Finally able to relax, Padme pulled out her datapad and once more looked over Sio's report. She was still concerned that he hadn't been asked to testify, and after she'd heard a few reports on Nute Gunray's team of lawyers she wondered if it wasn't significant. Obi-Wan, too, was a concern given his current situation.
"Your Majesty has far too many worries for her small shoulders to carry."
Padme startled. "Obi-Wan! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."
"It was not an interruption, so at least don't add that worry to the pile."
Smirking slightly, Padme said, "Don't tell me that Jedi don't worry."
" 'A worry had better scurry else the learning will be blurry,' " Obi-Wan said, at last opening his eyes. "My clan head would often tell me this to no avail."
"Ah," Padme replied, "So you do worry."
"Your Majesty, these days I have more worries than I can count," he countered, rubbing a hand along his forehead, "But I know that time spent worrying about it detracts from the time that could be spent trying to fix it; or, lacking that, admitting that there is nothing that can be done and simply move on." The former Jedi took a sip of his tea, leaning back slightly in his chair.
Padme took a moment to study him. His hair was still growing out, but someone had taken cutters to them and it looked much more even and cared for. Somehow he had cleaned and patched his Jedi cloak, it looked brand new, and she startled to realize he was no longer wearing work clothes but Jedi tunics and trousers. The only thing missing was a lightsaber. The dark circles under his eyes were still present, he still wasn't sleeping at night it seemed, but she took comfort in the fact that they weren't as pronounced as when she last saw him. The memory sparked another litany of concerns for Obi-Wan and the upcoming trial.
Something must have shown on her face, because Obi-Wan's light grin faded, and he leaned forward slightly. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked. "I've been told I'm a very good listener," he added in lighter tones.
Padme smiled in spite of herself. "A negotiator like you would," she teased.
His earnest look made her realize how serious he was in his offer and she realized this would be an excellent opportunity to warn him. "Perhaps we can talk in my cabin," she said, soup forgotten.
"As you wish," he said.
The cabin lights were dim; the ship had already switched to Coruscant time to ease jetlag over the week-long trip. It was hardly the extravagance of the palace but Padme did have two soft couches, a low table between them, and a spherical lamp that cast the room in a low orange glow. Obi-Wan sat - once more cross-legged, on one couch while Padme took the other.
"Obi-Wan," she said slowly, trying to piece her thoughts together. "Have you ever testified at a trial before?"
The question seemed to confuse the former Jedi for a moment, but he answered, "On occasion. My master did it much more often, but there were times when my testimony was necessary."
"So you've had experiences with criminal trials, then."
Obi-Wan leaned back slightly. "A Jedi can often be called to trial, we are considered impartial observers, and so our word carries a certain amount of weight. Similarly, sometimes our missions will uncover criminal behavior or lead to parties filing suits against one another. Usually Master Qui-Gon would recount the events like he would report to the Council. I expect little deviation in this."
Padme closed her eyes, remembering what the social worker Shamde had said, that Obi-Wan vacillated from shockingly insightful or knowledgeable to unbelievably naïve. "Obi-Wan, this is going to be a public trial of a very rich being, with very expensive litigators."
She was surprised to see a note of humor enter Obi-Wan's eyes. "Ah," he said. "Let me assure you that I've recently had experience with the Viceroy's primary law firm. And besides, it would take better men, better assassins, than what they could acquire to dispose of a Jed. I will be watchful, your Majesty, but honestly my testimony will not account for much. Your governing advisors will provide much more damning evidence. I will ultimately be redundant."
Honestly, the thought of assassins had never occurred to her, and she suddenly found herself glad Panaka was so overly cautions. It also made her wonder what kind of missions Obi-Wan experienced to make him say that-but on reflection Padme decided she really didn't want to follow that line of thought. She also wanted to strangle the poor redhead, and on this impulse she took a calming breath before making her case.
"Obi-Wan, assassins and physical assault may not be necessary. All they would have to do is cast doubt on a witness's testimony."
Obi-Wan actually blinked at that, his mind processing what she said. Then, a very neutral expression fell over his features. "I am a Jedi," he said slowly, "my testimony is impartial."
"You are a former Jedi," Padme corrected. "You left the Order and that automatically calls anything you say to question. No one has ever left the Jedi, and Gunray's litigators will have a field day with it."
She watched carefully as Obi-Wan absorbed the words, but his face was completely closed off now, like he had been that horrible night when he told her his master was dead before Anakin came skipping along. Padme thought this might be how he looked when he was distressed, and she hated causing such a distant expression on his face, but it was necessary. She opened her mouth to speak but Obi-Wan murmured something, cutting her off.
"Nineteen..."
"What?"
"Nineteen people have left the Order since it's inception twenty-five thousand years ago. Only nineteen. There are busts of them in the Archives. Their biographies-" he stopped, color draining from his face, making the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. He looked up, his neutral exterior showing signs of fraying. "Your Majesty, I have not left the Order. I am still a Jedi, it is a way of life I have not - I cannot walk away from."
...Who was he trying to convince? "You know that," she said, trying to sound reassuring, or at least placating, "and I know that, and Master Yoda knows that, I think, but the galaxy at large will not see it that way. The lawyers will not see it that way, and they will use it to throw doubt on everything you say."
Something inside him seemed to snap, and he abruptly stood up. "Thank you, your Majesty, for informing me of this. I should go meditate on this possibility and-"
Padme got up just as quickly, reaching out with her tiny hand and grabbing his arm. She wasn't remotely near strong enough to hold him, but he stilled all the same. "Obi-Wan, please," she said, taking a shot in the dark, "You can't keep things like this bottled up. You need someone to talk to, a support system. I've talked to Shamde, I know you haven't even tried to make a support system on Naboo even while you offer support to everyone else. You'll wear yourself out. You need to-"
"I need to meditate, your Majesty," Obi-Wan said, back still to her. His head tilted slightly upward, perhaps to look at the ceiling. "'A worry had better scurry,' remember?"
"Obi-Wan, don't you have anyone? Anakin's too young, but..." her sentence failed her, and she desperately hoped Obi-Wan had an answer for it.
Instead, he said, "I have the Force. That is all a Jedi should need."
Obi-Wan all but ran to his cabin, thoughts swirling in a million different directions. Padme, whether she knew it or not, had broken one of his most crucial defenses in surviving the last year. He had spent all those months convinced that he was a Jedi, that he hadn't really left the Order; he had deluded himself into believing - late at night when he was desperate for solace - that they would see what he was doing and maybe someday take him back.
What a fool he was!
Yoda, Siri, Padme, everyone had been right; he had left, all to train Anakin. Yoda had issued the ultimatum, and Obi-Wan, numb with grief and determined to do at least one thing right for his Master, and made his choice. There could be no justification for it. He had left. He had left the Order. He was now the Twentieth. Was there a bust of him in the Archives? A biography explaining he had been a Knight for only a few hours before he had turned his back on everything? Master Poof, Siri, they had all said that he had thrown away everything, even his identity, to train Anakin; and they were right. He was no Jedi. He wasn't even close to one. A Jedi would never have gotten scammed by an employer, never allowed so many problems with Anakin, never been so naïve about the galaxy. What an idiot!
He was shaking when he finally made it to his broom closet of a cabin. The courts would not pay the travel expenses, he still had no savings, and had been forced to take the cheapest cabin; nothing more than a hole in the ship with a bed and a sink. He fumbled into a kneeling position, closing his eyes and trying to force his body into relaxing. He needed to meditate; he needed to deal with this latest crisis that he hadn't even known was coming.
Looking at it objectively, the litigators were going to have a field day with him: A Jedi who left the Order, who had a record of being arrested (circumstances notwithstanding), working as a day laborer. If it was the same firm that had handled the negotiations, then they likely knew his skills as a negotiator and were planning how to corner him. Space, what was he going to do? It would be child's play to paint him as an incompetent Force wielder, too selfish to follow the Jedi way and too stupid to acquire employment of merit - after all, construction was droid work, those that did it for a living had to have droid intelligence, or lack thereof.
He felt sick, he was so tired and he didn't know how much more he could take. He was already having so many problems with Anakin and even with the help of their new landlord they had no savings to speak of and now he was in the middle of starting up a business - a new venture he knew absolutely nothing about and was no doubt making another litany of mistakes over.
Would he ever, ever stop making mistakes?
Desperate, he reached out to the Force, looking for solace.
Instead, all he could feel was: The Darkness is there. It is growing.
And he was left even more worried that when he started. He fell forward, his elbows smacking into the cool metal floor, and he pitched to his side, curled in a small ball.
Master! Please, I can't do this anymore!
He shook and heaved, once more in that pit of grief. He had nothing, nothing at all. His family had abandoned him and now he was to be ridiculed because of it. There was no one to help him, he had to figure this all out himself, but he was just so tired. He craved to be a youngling again, to feel Qui-Gon's strong, massive hands on his shoulders and feel his presence in his mind. He wanted to seek advice from Master Yoda, or play with his friends. Life had been so simple then!
He stayed like that for what felt like hours, unable to calm his mind, unable to turn his feelings off or release them to the Force. The negative emotions stuck and clung to him, scraping against his psyche and refusing to let go, dragging him down even further as he realized he wasn't even skilled enough to overcome this minor hurdle.
He was such a disappointment! When would he ever do anything right?
His only solace came when exhaustion finally overtook him.
"Oh, Obi-Wan. It will only get better when you learn to let me go."
Author's Notes: At last, Anakin gets it. Keeping it is relative fore kids his age, but now he understands what it means to be a Jedi, and he knows how to start nurturing it. Amazing what math can do. And Anakin gets this more than just having Obi-Wan explain, explain, explain. Deeper-meaning stuff like this takes figuring it out yourself, which is hard to really "teach".
Padme pushed too far, again.
Obi-Wan angsted. Again.
And Qui-Gon, well...
Gawd it took weeks to finish this chapter. The inspiration had long since dried up by this point and we were just looking to finish the damn thing. It took weeks to get through the negotiation; it took even longer to get through this: the trial. Most of it fell on only one twin (nature of the beast), and it would take days before any kind of inspiration or thread of an idea could come up, and even then it was just writing a sentence or two, stare at the page or screen, then write another.
The last angst-heavy bit is the last angsty section of the story. It's a backslid-moment for Obi-Wan, but despite his own personal beliefs, he is doing better over all. He's plugging along through his grief and is merely facing a lot of the causes all at once, which is what causes the backslide.
But Obi-Wan is finally going up in the world. Amazing what getting some help can do. Plus, people now know about him and trust him. He's not settled yet, but he is finally in a better position than he was before. It's about time.
Overall the chapter came out okay. Padme always seems to make an impression when she shows up in this fic and now we at last start inching towards the conclusion.
Next Chapter: A reunion. And introduction.