Part Seventeen

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed.

He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours, hadn't eaten in almost ten, and had been blown up and on the run for over six. He was at the Temple, and his mind was flooded with memories: memories of Bant and Garen and Reeft and Siri, memories of Qui-Gon, bright and happy and bubbly but every single one tainted with another memory - that of Yoda giving him an ultimatum and watching that ship lift off into the skies and knowing that things would never be the same. He was staring at a Jedi he had been spending weeks with protecting Padme only to now realize that this was Qui-Gon's master, and now he was towering over Obi-Wan demanding that he relive the worst memory in his life.

Obi-Wan was overwhelmed.

Strike that. He was beyond overwhelmed.

Dooku was tall, standing at his full height directly in front of Obi-Wan's seated position, and his presence in the Force was swelling. The older man's arms were shaking, and his eyes were brighter than Obi-Wan had ever seen. There was a Darkness about him, tickling at every sense, and the former Jedi quailed inside of himself.

A large, strong hand clasped his shoulder. Startled even further, he looked to the shoulder to see nothing there.

"Tell him, Obi-Wan. It will help him just as much as it will help you."

And, somehow, his mouth opened.

"I... we... we had arrived at the hangar," he said, unhappy with how his voice sounded: nervous, cracked, emotional. He took a deep, shuddering breath and reached out to the Force, begging for calm. "Droids were there, as was... the creature. We... Master Qui-Gon had faced it before, on Tatooine. He had tracked us there via our receiving transmissions from the governing hostages on Naboo, and had attacked just as we were preparing to take off for Coruscant. I was already on the ship, and the pilot managed to angle it, making a dust storm to facilitate Qui-Gon's escape. He knew it was a Sith right off, I don't know how. I wasn't up close to it then, I didn't realize..." And in his mind, he quailed, if only he had realized sooner! But the reflection showed him there was no way for him to have gotten any closer than he could have. The realization seemed to soothe him, he didn't understand quite how, but it gave him the strength to continue.

"But, at the hangar, I knew right off," Obi-Wan continued. He dared to glance up and see that Dooku had reseated himself, sitting unnaturally straight, eyes riveted on something, perhaps a memory. "The Sith, it was so much darker than anything we had fought before - even Xanatos. I had always though Xanatos to be as Dark as they came, but that creature... it stank of the Darkside. We engaged it immediately, drawing it off from the Queen's contingent."

His voice trailed off for a moment, the memory overtaking him. Flashes of the fight, the grey walls that lead to the power core; it all replayed in his mind and, after a year of avoiding the thoughts and the triggers, he found he could watched it almost objectively. "It was a trap from the very beginning," he realized, his eyes widening in surprise. "He chose to meet us there, knew he was outnumbered and sought to pick a battlefield that would give him an advantage. He had already fought Qui-Gon, he had exposure to Form IV, he knew how to counter it." Obi-Wan sagged into the couch, suddenly exhausted. "It was a trap. Oh, Master."

The fight had been doomed from the start. The Sith had deliberately targeted Qui-Gon, set everything up for the Jedi's death.

"Everything he did was to draw out Qui-Gon. He led us from the hangar to the power generators. The catwalks were narrow, hampering maneuverability. We tried to catch him in a pincer, one in front and one behind, but the duel-lightsaber had a greater range than us, he could hold us back. We managed to make him fall off the catwalks, Qui-Gon was trying to press the advantage but I had fallen. If only-" he started to say, but Dooku cut him off.

"Exactly as the Sith wanted," the older man said, his face dark, his eyes unseeing. "When faced with a formidable team, distract the weaker element to target the stronger. You were considered weaker, negligible. Treachery!"

... Was that true? It was one thing to realize the entire battle was a trap, but even something as unforeseeable as Obi-Wan taking a kick and falling over had been part of the plan? If Obi-Wan hadn't fallen, hadn't suffered that kick, would there have been something else, some other means of dividing them? He... he had never considered it before. He had always thought it was his fault, a string of "if only's" that underscored his incompetence. Was it really possible...?

"Keep talking, Obi-Wan."

"We... the Sith had led us to a melting pit. There was this corridor filled with buffeted laser walls, to prevent debris from entering it. It activated while they were inside, I hadn't yet caught up. We were all forced to wait."

"Another bait for the Sith," Dook growled. A hand was gripping the arm of the sofa tightly, white knuckled, as he listened. "Another distraction to the negligible party."

"I was so worried," Obi-Wan said, staring at his memories. The two men sat opposite each other, but neither were looking at the other - indeed neither were entirely aware of the other, so lost in Obi-Wan's memories and the man that so centered around them. "The battle was taking far too long. Qui-Gon, he was a superb duelist but his endurance wasn't what it was; I could see how tired he was becoming. All I wanted to do was race through that corridor in order to help my master. The Sith, he just kept smiling whenever he looked at me." Another bait at the negligible partner? It was entirely possible, now that Obi-Wan was thinking about it. He had never seen it quite this way before. "When the lasers abated I ran as fast as I could, but..."

"Just as the Sith wanted."

"Master Qui-Gon, he was forcing close quarters combat, to keep the Sith's range out of the equation. The creature didn't like that, that grin was finally off of his face. But... but..." Obi-Wan's voice wavered, his eyes watered, and his eyes burned with that one, horrific image. "He couldn't handle the fight alone. I wasn't there with him and his stamina had run out. I couldn't cover for him and he didn't have full range of motion on that narrow corridor. I wasn't there, I wasn't there, and the Sith managed to clip his jaw and... and..."

And the red lightsaber suddenly erupted from Qui-Gon's back, smoke wafting out as it cauterized the wound, and then the crimson beam of light ejected back, Qui-Gon's body jerking at the motion, standing for a brief moment before the legs buckled, and his lightsaber tumbled away, and his body slumped to the side.

"He was so still," Obi-Wan whispered. "He's never been still for as long as I've known him. Even asleep he was prone to tossing and turning. He wasn't moving. His lightsaber was out of his hands. He was lying there so carelessly." He rubbed at a cheek, somehow distantly surprised that they weren't wet.

Finally, the former Jedi focused and locked his eyes on Dooku's still distant face. His next words were clear and honest: "I don't remember much after that."

Dooku snapped to attention, his reverie shattered. "What?"

"The laser buffers had deactivated as soon as Qui-Gon fell, and all I knew was that I had to defeat that beast. I was so angry: angry at the Sith for what he had done, angry at Qui-Gon for having fallen, must most of all I was so angry at myself for failing to prevent it that I couldn't think straight. I was too aggressive, too reckless, too thoughtless. I was fighting to undo all of my mistakes, wasn't in my right mind, and the Sith took advantage of it. My anger, it gave me the strength to split his double lightsaber, but it didn't give me the foresight to think he would have been prepared for that. He didn't even break stride as he ducked my next strike and kicked me into the melting pit."

Dooku leaned forward, his face intent. "You fought the Sith alone?" he demanded.

Obi-Wan offered a weak smile. "And poorly at that."

Dooku said nothing, leaning back in his seat and crossing a leg, an appraising look on his face.

"The creature," Obi-Wan continued, "I suppose it thought it was sport. He kept cutting into the pit, sending sparks and flecks of the rim raining down on me. I realized my anger had brought me to that point, and that I couldn't well afford to hold onto it. So I... I put it away."

"What?" Dooku said.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it. I knew I wasn't winning with anger, so I simply decided I wasn't angry. I reached for the Force and was able to jump back from the rim of the pit. The Sith looked rather surprised, I don't know why, and that moment was all I needed." Obi-Wan tensed slightly, watching Dooku's face quickly became irate. He had an instinct to shrink into the couch, but Oib-Wan resisted the urge. Dooku had forced this conversation, and Obi-Wan, now that he had started, refused to run from it.

Reliving the memories now, in this way, no longer held fear over him. The former Jedi had at last accepted that these events had occurred - that he had failed his master, yes, but he could do nothing to change those painful events. The pain had not diminished, likely never would, but now Obi-Wan could look to the future, look to Anakin, and feel that it was the natural course of action instead of forcing himself to do so as an escape from reliving those terrible events. Perhaps now-

"You don't even realize it, do you?" Dooku said, his tone demanding but not, Obi-Wan sensed, at the former Jedi himself. Confused, he asked,

"I beg your pardon?"

"Have you any idea, any concept, how rare it is to just 'decide' not to be angry?" Dooku demanded.

That only confused Obi-Wan further. "Is it not the way of the Jedi to-"

But Dooku immediately cut him off. "Don't spout rhetoric now, boy. The Jedi strive to avoid anger and, failing that; pile hundreds of relaxation techniques to release the anger. You've been about the galaxy, surely you've noticed by now how hard it is for anyone - even a Jedi - to let go of anger instantaneously. Space, I read your reports when that woman Tahl died. Even Qui-Gon admitted that his anger got the best of him, and he was your master."

Obi-Wan stared, uncomprehending.

Dooku kept talking, more to himself than anything else. "No wonder the Council knighted you. Four Trials in one go: Skill and Courage for beating the Sith, Flesh for loosing Qui-Gon, and Spirit for casting aside your anger to do what must be done. Such a rare gift! And the fools simply let you go! What were they thinking? Have they really fallen so far as to-"

Now Obi-Wan took his turn to interrupt. "Master Dooku, I'm flattered you think I have such potential, but at least in regards to my leaving I hardly gave them much choice."

Dooku refocused once more, and his face was completely calm, showing nothing as it had for weeks that he had been assigned to protect Obi-Wan and Padme. He was back to himself, it seemed, but the bright sense of interest could not be completely hidden. "All I know," Dooku said in calculated tones, "is that it was over training a youngling."

Obi-Wan looked down, thinking of his last memory of his master. "Qui-Gon... When we were on Tatooine, Qui-Gon found a boy. His midi-chlorian count was astronomical, but he was too old to be trained. Qui-Gon saw something in him, though, so he was brought back with us. The Council saw darkness in his future, we all did, but Qui-Gon was adamant that he be trained. He even," Obi-Wan paused, holding back a wince, "He even offered to take the boy on as his Padawan."

Dooku sniffed. "Typical, thoughtless, Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan didn't have a response for that. "His last thoughts were of Anakin. He begged that I train him, and I said yes."

Dooku stared at him, but Obi-Wan was once again lost in his memories. "It... it was a false promise, in a way. I would have agreed to anything if it meant... It was after it was all over when I realized. I was giving my report to Her Majesty when Anakin came charging up. I took charge of him because I was supposed to; it was now my duty after all. He was so insistent on explaining the adventure he had just had. I dare say I was in no mood to listen, but I did because I was supposed to. And when I listened..." Obi-Wan looked up to the Jedi master. "He has such a strong connection to the Force it was astonishing. He had no idea what he was doing, literally no clue how to fly a ship, and yet he managed to fly through a dogfight into the Federation hanger and fire a shot through an exhaust duct that led to the power core of the ship - blowing it up and shutting down the entire droid army. The Force was with him to accomplish such an awesome feet, imagine what he could do with training! I saw then what Qui-Gon saw in him. I continue to see it, every day I'm with him. In the span of a year he's completely caught up with his traditional studies at his school and is half way level with any Initiate in the Temple his age. His work on kata is phenomenal even without a lightsaber, and he has his own meditation, he calls it the 'Podrace mediation' where he can sink completely into the Living Force and do remarkable things."

Obi-Wan suddenly stopped as he realized how prideful, how attached he sounded in front of a Jedi. Flushing in spite of himself, he coughed and backpedaled to the point.

"The Council decided not to train him. I made a plea to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan paused, frowning, wanting to word this correctly. "He was, is, dead-set against training Anakin, and in some respects he is right. There is uncertainty in his future, I can still feel it even now, but I can't bring myself to abandon him to that darkness. It is... a difference of opinion. Master Yoda tried to convince me otherwise, he made a mutually exclusive selection of choices." Obi-Wan looked up and shrugged. "We can see what choice I made."

Dooku's eyes were closed, deep in thought. But his hands were balled into tightly clenched fists in his lap. "An ultimatum," he whispered. "Master Yoda gave an ultimatum to the most promising Knight in ages! And casts him out at the first sign of disagreeing with the Council!"

"Master Dooku, it was my decision. It's only a difference of opinion and-"

"A difference of opinion?" Dooku said, his eyes snapping open. "That boy manages to sense you are in danger all the way on Naboo and they choose to neglect that talent simply because he is too old? Because you are too attached?"

"Sir, there is good reason we don't take children over a certain age-"

"Not good enough," Dooku said in dark tones. "The two most powerful Knights in the making; cut away over nothing!"

"Master Dooku, I'm hardly all that powerful, if I was then Master Qui-Gon-"

"And he is just as bad as them," Dooku said. "I'm certain even now, one with the Force, he has no idea the damage he has caused you. Both of you. He was always so ignorant of his mistakes."

Abruptly, Dooku stood to his full height. The silence stretched out, Obi-Wan uncertain what to expect as he watched Dooku stare at nothing. He almost started to speak before Dooku looked down. "It is very late," he said in calm, calculated, distantly polite tones. "The spare bedroom is on the right, I suggest you use it. Do not feel the need to wait up, it seems I have a few communications to make."

With that, Dooku swept out of his own apartment, leaving Obi-Wan more confused about the man than ever before.

Dooku, unlike young Kenobi, did not have the Force-blessed ability to simply "decide" that he was no longer angry, and so after he left his apartments he spent several hours in one of the hundreds of meditation nooks of the Temple, standing and staring out a window blankly and seething until the energy burned out of him.

He couldn't recall a busier day in recent memory. First was the attack on the air taxi, watching Kenobi and Amidala fall as they rolled off the roof of the taxi and unable to spare another thought as he fielded fire from some sniper that quickly disappeared when a dozen shots were perfectly deflected. Dooku could not pursue because of the security man's injury, and after that was several hours of waiting - either for confirmation of the pair's deaths or of them making contact in some way.

Now, on reflection, Dooku realized he had greatly underestimated Kenobi. The point had been made abundantly clear in the last hour. The Jedi was, in many respects, greatly embarrassed by his poor and decidedly uncharacteristic behavior. His curiosity over Qui-Gon had superseded his need for self-control and professional distance. It seemed his old Padawan had at last rubbed off on him: making him push and push until he received the desired effect. Reflection, however, showed that it was his selfish wants that had taken over, where Qui-Gon by contrast pushed because he thought there was a better way, or that some thread of the Force should be followed. In the end, invoking Qui-Gon's memory in justification for his actions was nothing more than for letting his impatience overwhelm him.

He was Jedi Master Dooku. He didn't have impatience!

And yet as he stared out the window he understood that that sentiment was another arrogant attempt at sophistry, and he quickly corrected the thought. Everybody had limits to their patience and somewhere, somehow, it was always tested. Qui-Gon was perhaps the one person in the entire galaxy that could break past Dooku's limit, and it looked as though that were still true even in death. He sighed.

He would apologize later to Kenobi for his deplorable behavior.

The consequences of his actions, however, bore much more thorough inspection. For years, decades even, Dooku had seen and sensed decline. Political corruption was at an all time high, deliberation had dissolved to filibuster and special interest groups, and nothing changed. Dooku had spent over half his life under cover on assignment, he saw people consistently at their worst because there was no worry of a Jedi touting moral high ground rhetoric about. Dooku knew, perhaps better than anyone, how dark the world had become.

Something had to give. Something needed to change.

As Jedi, it was their duty to instigate change, to bring the galaxy back to the Light and yet over and over the Council ignored his pleas to take a more active role. "A Jedi can only help when requested," Mace said, "We cannot interfere with political affairs, it is not our place to force things to happen but rather to guide them by our example."

Only now did Dooku realize what kind of example they were setting. The Jedi had become complacent. They were just as corrupt as the politicians though they did not know it. Only the corrupt would so callously ignore Qui-Gon's irritating but always brilliant insight. Only the corrupt would disenfranchise young Kenobi for not doing as they said. Only the corrupt would turn a blind eye to the youngling so desperately in need of training simply because he was too old. Only the corrupt would be arrogant enough to think that anyone would follow a high moral standard when there was an easier alternative.

Something had to happen. Something needed to change, and it appeared as though Dooku would be the one to do it. As he had told Kenobi, the Jedi master had many communications to make. The ultimate conversation, however, would have to wait. No, Dooku would not confront his old Master until he had all his points and rebuttals perfectly scripted. It was still the middle of the night as at any rate, and in that respect he knew what his first stop would be.

As he expected, Amidala was awake. The young teen put on a brave face, but her exhaustion when she and Kenobi were picked up had been obvious, and Dooku had deduced early on that she was the type to take catnaps when under stress, waking at night once or twice to puzzle through stressors. It appeared the Queen had just awoken; she was rubbing her eyes and stretching her back into a tight arc.

Dooku stood in the corner of Panaka's recovery room for several minutes to allow her to wake more, then, giving the impression he had been thee for hours, he asked, "How are you fairing?"

Her startled jump gave him some small measure of satisfaction. It soothed him to know he could control everything about and around him; and given his inconceivable behavior earlier, he needed to feel in control very deliberately.

"Master Dooku," she breathed, quickly regaining control of herself. "Forgive me."

"Quite all right my dear," he said in controlled, bland tones. "In fact it is you who must forgive me. I know it is quite late, but if it is alright with you I'd like to ask a few questions."

"Of course. What about?"

Dooku offered a smile that said many things. "I rather thought it would be obvious. On your first day here you made it very clear that if I had any questions about young Kenobi to come to you."

As expected, she became instantly weary, her face smoothing out and her back straightening imperceptibly. "You may ask anything you like, Master Dooku, but I must admit I was under the perception that you would forego me in favor of Knight Kenobi regardless of my input on the matter."

Shrewd. Though young, Amidala showed a very quick mind. Dooku rather liked her.

"You are correct, Your Majesty. In point of fact I have just had a very enlightening conversation with him."

Her eyes narrowed. "About what?"

"That, milady, is none of your business," Dooku replied condescendingly. "Suffice to say I learned quite a bit about him, and would like to know more." His tone was abrupt but necessary. Amidala was the type to be fiercely defensive of those she was loyal to. Approaching her in this manner, abrupt and arrogant, would raise her proverbial hackles and make her quick to sing ringing endorsements of Kenobi's character. The facts would be colored, but in her rush to prove something to Dooku she would let slip more than if she were thinking in respect to Kenobi's privacy. Anything after that could be confirmed by Dooku's impressive network of sources.

Glaring openly, Amidala bit out a barely polite, "Ask anything you want."

Dooku smiled. "Very well, we'll start with Kenobi's choice of profession..."

The sun was up before Dooku finally arrived at Yoda's apartments. After Amidala had filled in some blanks on what Kenobi had been doing since leaving the Order (and Dooku couldn't quite contain the amused smile at how well informed she was), he'd visited the Archives and gone through all the mission reports of Qui-Gon and Kenobi again, only this time with a better grasp of Kenobi's character in mind.

Really. How had that boy slipped through the cracks? Not even taken as a Padawan until weeks shy of his thirteenth birthday, and only then because the Force had finally batted Qui-Gon over the head. Dooku couldn't help but wonder how many other younglings of such potential were being overlooked.

And young Skywalker! From what Dooku had pieced together from Kenobi's answers and Amidala's observations, that boy belonged in the Temple. Had earned the right tenfold, no matter his background or attachment issues. To leave such a talented child simply because of age...

The Jedi seemed to have grown complacent.

This was unacceptable.

But that could all be looked at later. After the trial, when Dooku could stand in front of the High Council, give his report, and then take the Council to task for their negligence. Everything had a time and a place and Dooku needed to more research before giving the twelve "wisest beings in the galaxy" the proper dressing down they'd more than earned.

First thing's first.

For the moment, Dooku had one goal and one goal only. Ensure that Kenobi had resources. Not just whatever resources he had accumulated on Naboo, but resources for the training in the Force that young Skywalker would need and Kenobi as well, as he learned what was necessary as a Master: Access to the Archives, the ability to call in a proper Jedi healer if circumstances (unlikely as it currently seemed) required, manuals on how to train Force-Sensitives and what to expect; even something as simple as training sabers.

Dooku had been appalled to learn that Kenobi didn't have any and had been starting Shii-Cho with just the movements. A blade needed to be felt, needed to be an extension of the arm. The only blade that they had was Qui-Gon's and Dooku, despite admitting to himself that such sentimentality was unbecoming and a weakness, understood why both Kenobi and young Skywalker would be hesitant to use it for mere practice.

He paused before Yoda's door, taking a moment to center himself. While as a Jedi, indeed as an undercover Jedi, missions often required all-nighters and tests of endurance. Dooku didn't show any signs of fatigue, in fact, even masters wouldn't see any weariness, but that didn't change the fact that Dooku was starting to feel his age. Having just turned seventy-one, he was still spry and energetic and able. But the duration of that was starting to shorten.

Dooku wasn't particularly fond of getting old. But getting old proved his ability for he was still alive.

Another moment and Dooku knocked before entering Yoda's apartments.

The blinds were up, letting the morning sun soak the room in their warmth. Yoda sat at his usual, over-stuffed meditation cushion facing the rising sun and letting the light of a new day fill his existence, as had been his habit for centuries. One Dooku was familiar with and had become used to during his own Padawanship with the tiny master. A ritual he had passed on to Qui-Gon.

A small part of him wondered if Kenobi did this with young Skywalker.

He pushed the thought aside, and sat beside his old master. Closing his eyes, he let the warm sun soak into him, letting it's light join with the light of Force and basking in it's gentility. The moment of peace helped ease some of his tiredness, sharpening his already tight focus.

"A pleasant surprise, it is, to see you, my old Padawan."

"Master Yoda," Dooku opened his eyes and turned to face the tiny master.

Yoda smiled serenely. "This honor, to what do I owe?"

There was a tiny part of Dooku that wanted to smile in greeting and chat of old times, a part of him that was still a Padawan to such an ancient and wise pillar of the Jedi Order. But Dooku was nearly fifty years removed from being a Padawan. It was easy to put the feeling aside.

"I have been spending time with Knight Kenobi," he replied, calling Kenobi by the rank he had well and truly earned. Amidala was right to address him as such and Dooku would continue to do so.

Yoda's smile fell and the warm glow of his presence dropped under the weight of sorrow. "Yes. Suspected I did, that you would come to me." The tiny master looked out to the rising sun. "So sad, so sad. A promising Knight, Obi-Wan was. So very promising. Yes. Sad it is, that chose to walk away he did."

"He has not," Dooku replied, keeping himself calm and neutral. "That young Knight is a Jedi, through and through. He still trains, still meditates. He is a Jedi Knight."

Yoda shook his head. "A Knight, no longer. A choice it was, to stay or go. Left us, Obi-Wan has, and by choice."

"By ultimatum," Dooku corrected. "It was your choice to give him only two options. To be a Jedi or not." He raised a dark brow. "Have you not often said that only the Sith deal in absolutes? Why, then, give Knight Kenobi two absolute choices, to be a Jedi or not?"

Yoda shook his head again. "A Jedi or not, were not the options presented. You were not there."

"No I was not. If I were I would have told you that that it was foolishness to present an ultimatum to a grieving Padawan just promoted to Knight because of his Master's death. That it was foolishness to take a grieving Padawan to task for attachment after just losing the one attachment that all Jedi are allowed to have. It was foolishness to send a youngling with so much potential back to obscurity. Absolute foolishness to deny training to one who so desperately needs it simply because he is too old. No, I was not there. And more is the pity that I was not."

Yoda looked down sadly. "A strong belief, you have in what was to be done. A strong belief I had, in what was to be done. There, you were not and undone, the past can never be. Accept. Accept what is and move forward. The Jedi way this is."

Dooku bristled at that, chaffing that he was not a Padawan any more and did not need the lecture. But Yoda was right. He had deviated from his main point. He could not make the Council take Kenobi and young Skywalker back. Indeed, that might not be the best of ideas, given the damage already done by turning their backs. But Dooku had resolved to ensure that Kenobi had aide. While he himself could not always be there, especially given how often he went undercover, he would ensure that others would be there if Kenobi needed it. Even Qui-Gon, the maverick that he was, had support, even when on solo missions. The Jedi were always there for one another. To not be was simply reprehensible.

If he could not ensure assistance through the fact that Kenobi was clearly a Knight and with a Padawan, than he simply had to try a different approach.

"Regardless of Knight Kenobi's status here, he is training young Skywalker."

"Know this, I do," Yoda replied, rubbing his thinning hair. "His reason, it was, to leave the Jedi."

Dooku nodded. "I have spoken with him in his training methods. I imagine the techniques he is using are the same Qui-Gon used with him."

"Unsurprising, this is." Yoda looked out to the sun again.

"Knight Kenobi has none of the material usually presented to a new master. Indeed, most Knights thinking of taking a Padawan will take a class on teaching techniques and what to look out for and such. Even Knights who bond spontaneously through the Force, as Qui-Gon and Knight Kenobi did, are given materials to help the process."

Yoda looked down again. "Considered this at length, we did. Meditated on this, we all did, when back at the Temple."

Dooku frowned, having not expected that. "Yet you decided to not even send the basics."

Closing his eyes, Yoda shook his head. "So simple, it was not. Clouded the Force was. Unclear. For millennium, guided us clearly the Force has, yet for this boy, Skywalker, shrouded is the Force. Murky. Darkness there is, for that youngling." The tiny master pinned Dooku with his saddened eyes. "Give Jedi techniques, would you, to a youngling hidden by the Darkside?"

His lips thinned. For all that Dooku could do bold and brilliant moves that made him such an exemplary Jedi, he did so after cautious deliberation and information gathering. Qui-Gon may have picked up on being bold and brilliant, but he didn't plan. He simply went with the flow of events. Dooku's caution had never rubbed off. And Dooku was known for his caution.

Presented as Yoda just did, Dooku would never have wanted young Skywalker trained.

But it had not been presented to him as such. Indeed, it hadn't been presented at all and such a view did not take into account all of the facts.

"Have you so little faith in your own Jedi that they can not guide and steer a youngling away from Darkness?" Dooku countered. "How many younglings have we had that suffer from anger and frustration? And how many of them have ended up as steady, reliable Knights and Masters?"

Yoda's brows dropped. "Younglings of anger? Of Xanatos do you speak?"

Dooku's brows dropped as well. Of course the tiny master would mention Xanatos. The youngling that even Dooku had warned Qui-Gon about, if only Qui-Gon would have listened. The boy had been too old to bring to the Jedi, despite his talent, yet Qui-Gon had insisted. Young Skywalker was older still.

"It was obvious to the Council and myself, that Xanotos was far too aggressive and barely within bounds in many of his missions," Dooku replied coolly. "Have you even seen a hint of that with young Skywalker? At this very moment he wanders around Theed helping its citizens free of charge with fixing their heating or any other odd jobs. Xanatos would never lower himself to the peons."

"Yet the Darkness remains, obscuring the child's future, the potential." Yoda looked sadly out to the morning sun.

Dooku narrowed his eyes. "And you would leave a youngling to fend for himself?"

"To right every wrong, enough Jedi there are not."

"So we let a talented child who is inclined to the Light slip through the cracks." Dooku looked to the morning sun as well, trying to steady the raging injustice at that. "Tell me, Master Yoda, when the Jedi started to act out of fear? Fear of what could happen? Is not the future always in motion?"

Yoda smiled at Dooku fondly. "Ever stubborn, you are, my old Padawan. Challenge me often you did and still do. Such concern, such concern for a few, yet not all." Yoda stood and walked over to where a pot of tea was quietly steaming. "Breakfast, you have not had, if your old routines you've maintained. Come, come. Sustenance you need for another day at trial."

Irritation surged, but Dooku released it to the Force with well-practiced ease. "Master Yoda, you seem to be ignoring a significant problem. You are denying education and training to a highly talented boy who remains Light despite the Darkness that enshrouds him or even helping a Jedi Knight who left only because he did what he felt was right, as he was trained to do. Since when do Jedi act out of fear of a possible future?"

Yoda patiently poured out the tea and gave it a moment to steep before bringing the cups over. Dooku took the offered cup out of years of habit and sipped it, somewhat surprised that Yoda remembered the blend he preferred and even had it on hand.

The tiny master took his seat and sipped his own cup, eyes closed in contentment. When he opened them, he continued. "Since when out of attachment have you acted?"

"I beg your pardon."

"Hidden well it was, but deep attachment you had with Qui-Gon," Yoda replied. "Managed well, you did. Surprising it is not. Unfortunate you have been that so many you trust betrayed you. Qui-Gon did not, and so deep attachment you created. Understandable." Yoda took another sip of his tea. "Yet known Qui-Gon for years you did. Years. From youngling to an adult. Known Obi-Wan you have for mere weeks. Young Skywalker, you have yet to meet. Yet here you sit, on their behalf, negotiating."

Dooku looked down to his tea, not expecting such reproach, nor to be told that he even bore attachments. Dooku, of all people, knew attachment was dangerous and foolish, given that whoever one trusted would eventually betray one. Lorian Nod was the very first in a long list of examples, a fellow initiate and friend of Dooku decades past who framed Dooku for a theft from the Temple Archives. Dooku could recite chapter and verse why attachments were forbidden and damaging to a Jedi. He had tried to teach this to Qui-Gon, but his Padawan was far more trusting. Something Dooku couldn't begrudge if only because he was glad that Qui-Gon had never had to suffer the pain of betrayal. Xanatos had changed that in Qui-Gon and Dooku had privately mourned how his old Padawan had shut down.

Yet, looking back on his life, Dooku could not deny the favor he had of Qui-Gon, despite his old Padawan's obvious flaws and the frustration Qui-Gon was quite apt at generating. But Dooku never acted on that favor. Therefore, it must not have been attachment.

Dooku being attached to Qui-Gon was debatable.

Dooku being attached to Kenobi or Skywalker, however, was absurd. He barely knew them.

But they both had potential. And Qui-Gon would not have wanted them abandoned. Someone had to do something.

"I sit here on their behalf because it seems no Jedi has before," he replied after another sip of tea. "Did any of the Council argue for helping Kenobi? For not throwing him out of the Order? Did any of Kenobi's friends even have enough information to start acting on their behalf? I think not." Dooku allowed himself a small smile. "As such, I will do what I must."

Yoda frowned, but lowered his head in sadness. "Then an end, this discussion has reached."

Dooku sipped his tea one last time before putting it aside. "I believe you are correct, Master Yoda." For if the Council and the Jedi would do nothing Dooku would.

Author's Notes: And we hit full circle. As Anakin explained his adventure to Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan explained his loss to Dooku. As Obi-Wan was surprised by Ani's potential, Dooku was surprised by Obi's potential. And things continue to shift for Dooku and his character. He hijacked the chapter in a way, but it's necessary to understand his headspace for the epilogue and, back when this fic was two parts, it was the foundation for his role in the second (now abandoned) half.

Having said that, cue the "this chapter took forever" wail.

But at least Obi-Wan has finally gone through the final stages of the grieving process. Thanks Dooku!

Next chapter: A cross-exam.