Chapter Eight

Shafts of golden light filtered into the high council chamber. Qui-Gon stood in its center, the force swirling around him in waves.

Mace Windu let his gaze wander over his friend, sensing his inner turmoil.

Finally, Qui-Gon spoke. "I will go to the planet Melida/Daan and bring my padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, back to the temple."

"A mission you have Qui-Gon, impossible to take on a second." Yoda remarked.

"But-"

"The code forbids it," alleged Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"Master Mundi, Yoda, I must respectfully disagree. There is no reason why Qui-Gon cannot relocate his charge after completing the primary mission on Corellia. The situation there is dire. If we do not send someone there to ensure fair elections, there is the possibility of civil war," Adi-Gallia articulated. "In fact, I will be coming with you Qui-Gon. It's been a while since my padawan and I've been on a mission given my duties on this council. Corellia is my home-world and as such my insight will be useful in helping to diffuse this potentially volatile situation."

"But-"

"I agree," intoned Master Plo-Koon.

"Hmm," Yoda's ears flattened. "See your point I do Master Gallia. A good pairing this will be.

"But-"

"Decided it is, Qui-Gon. Master Gallia and Padawan Tachi will accompany you. Much to learn you all have," Yoda said putting an end to the discussion.

"But-"

"Qui-Gon, the sooner you shut it, the sooner we can leave, and the sooner you'll be reunited with your padawan" said Adi getting to her feet.

Qui-Gon fumed at the now real possibility of another mission coming between him and his padawan, but it seemed he had no choice. Neither was he pleased about being strapped with a council member watching his every move. Aloud he said, "When do we leave?"

"Two hours. My padawan and I will be ready. We'll depart from hangar bay E-4."

"Fine. Two hours. I'll be waiting there."

"I'd expect no less," she replied arching an eyebrow.

Mace cleared his throat. "May the force be with you both."

They bowed low and exited the high council chamber.

The temple mess hall was relatively quiet. Understandable since many Jedi chose to eat breakfast in their personal quarters before venturing out to start their scheduled activities. Part-way through the food on her tray, Bant was grateful for the slight warning in the force before Siri crashed into the seat next to hers. Bant rolled her eyes at Siri's enthusiasm.

"If I wasn't awake before, I certainly am now you imp," Bant quipped.

Siri grinned and spread a great deal of jam onto the roll she sliced in half, oblivious to her mon calamari friend sitting next to her.

"It's way to early to be this cheery. It's unnatural." Siri ignored her. She watched in horror as said roll disappeared faster than humanly possible. "Siri!" she yelled.

Now everyone in the mess hall was staring at them. She shot them all a look that said keep staring and you all might end up getting randomly selected for a physical. Soon they all found something more interesting to do.

"Bant! You startled me! I didn't know you could yell."

"I've been trying to get your attention."

"Well you could have fooled me. Haven't heard a word you said." More food disappeared as if by magic.

"You're going on a mission aren't you?" Bant guessed.

"Yes, finally. It's been ages. I wish my master wasn't stuck here so often. Council duties and all that. There is nothing more exhilarating than the thrill of a mission."

"I'm sure," Bant said, her tone slightly sarcastic. "So, spill, where is your Master dragging you off to this time?

"Corellia," Siri replied between bites. "I have less than an hour now to get ready, then we're meeting Master Jinn at hangar bay E-4."

"Why is Master Jinn tagging along?"

"Oh no, we're tagging him. We have to make sure he helps us complete the mission on Corellia before he goes to Melida/Daan to fetch his traitor of an apprentice."

Bant's eyes narrowed. "Obi-Wan is no traitor. If anyone is, it's Master Jinn."

"Oh Bant I'm so sorry, I know Obi-Wan's your friend. I didn't mean to imply anything."

"I know, sorry I snapped at you. I'm just worried. I haven't seen him for almost a cycle now. I miss him."

"Me too Bant, me too." She said, thoughtful.

Siri's com-link flashed and she leapt out of her seat. "That was Master, I better get a move on."

Bant grabbed Siri by the arm. "Promise me you'll bring him back safe and sound."

Siri brought her other and to clasp the one held and said solemnly. "I promise. You have my word."

Standing on the balcony overlooking hangar E-4, Bant clutched the Fynock pendant Obi-Wan made her. He had given her it as a life-day gift right before he was shipped off to the Agricorps, when they were both still Initiates. When will you come back home Obi? When will you be safe? Watching the Jedi transport until it disappeared in the flow of traffic, a sense of foreboding settled over the young padawan. She prayed to the force it was not already too late.

The city of Zahara had reclaimed some sense of normalcy. Within a week peddlers planted their unique shops in the busy market square. Looms of fabrics, notably blues, purples, and yellows overhung artisanal kiosks. Arriving from the countryside were skid-loads of food supplies and medicines. Everywhere you turned your senses were overwhelmed by the harmonious din of barter and haggle. In the backdrop, there was no real government, no ruling class. Everyone simply got by the best they could, putting off such things for a later date. Before class, Duru Erith and his schoolmates eagerly volunteered helping farmers, countryfolk, and merchants unload their durasteel crates. More often than not the boisterous little helpers got a sample of something scrumptious. Duru was a shy young man with the foresight to squeeze a chocolate bar in his fist creating instant fondu, a Corellian delicacy. Eager to share, he fast became a novelty among his friends. On one corner Mae Rool could be seen handing out leftover gart muffins, a local phenomenon. Uncle Sorath wandered round dragging his beard. His rants ranging from absurd to humorous to nonsensical. It was a circus, all of it.

Perhaps ten cycles later, these people would look back and laugh at the events of war, but not yet, the violence was too fresh. Despite the outward happiness there remained an underlying sense of seriousness.

Away from the hustle and bustle of central Zahara it was peaceful. A light breeze swept tall shoots of grass bordering the dirt covered road. Droplets of rain danced on the river's surface in the sunlight. Along this river, the Med-Center lay southwest to the city proper. Built several decades ago, this one story rectangular building served as a treatment center for those who suffered injuries in the recent conflict.

The aftermath of war was never pretty. At best, traumatic.

The central air unit kicked on with a rattle like a cantankerous old bantha. It spewed frigid air onto Obi-Wan's nose waking him from well deserved slumber. Pulling himself more awake he stumbled over to the 'fresher and slapped cold water on his face, marveling at the intense cerulean eyes staring back. He repeated this action several times peeking at his reflection through gaps in his fingers. It was amazing to see the lack of creases on his hands, the lack of stubble on his chin, the spiky padawan hair, and that he no longer had the look of an old relic.

At least he never felt the need to resort to a gimmer stick in his old age. He vividly remembered Yoda whacking an unfortunate padawan in the shins and saying, "When nine hundred years you reach, look as good, you will not, hmpf." Well, for an almost sixty year old man I still look pretty damn good he thought amusedly, reaching for the brownish towel that hung left of the mirror. Carefully, he dried off, slowing to a halt feeling beads from the long padawan braid through the fabric.

Memories unbidden resurfaced, emotions welling up inside, constricting his throat. Qui-Gon is still alive. Each bead carved from river rock marked their journey together. He caressed each one, remembering.

Sapphire. There is no emotion, there is peace. He was finally Qui-Gon's padawan, risking his life to prove his loyalty to the man. It marked their commitment to each other and his own commitment to releasing his anger to the force instead of on others.

Amber. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Bruck losing his footing on the waterfall's edge and plummeting to an early death, fresh blood washing over the rocks, wasn't his fault. As much as he felt culpable for the part he played in their rivalry, Bruck made his choice.

Jade. There is no passion, there is serenity. Siri's lips pressing ever so lightly against his, it taking every ounce of their strength to not give in, to turn from the physical chemistry that burned so brightly in the force, so luminous.

Silver. There is no chaos, there is harmony. He had leaped off a mound of lava, striking at Xanatos with renewed vigor. He put his grief behind him and focused on the will of the force. Suddenly Qui-Gon was at his side and together they fought as one against the Dark Jedi, but it was not a victory. Faced with capture, Xanatos took his own life.

Amethyst. There is no death, there is the force. On a planet far away from Coruscant, an elderly couple and a padawan stood at the edge of a shimmering lake. They looked on as Qui-Gon placed Tahl's body on a small wooden skiff. Words too personal for the world to hear were whispered into her ear. He placed a hand on his Master's shoulder, telling him it was time. The silence seemed to stretch for an eternity before Qui-Gon nodded and gently pushed the skiff into the lake, sending it afloat. A flaming arrow parted the night sky and landed in the middle of the lake. Soon her ashes reached the stars. The pain of Tahl's passing never fully went away, especially for his Master, but they were stronger for it. They would honor her memory.

Somehow, with a little training and a lot of luck, they survived countless missions together. Their trials made the stronger, made them a family, made them whole.

Until Naboo.

They were unprepared, and Qui-Gon, in all his stubbornness, paid the ultimate price.

There was to be no knighting ceremony, it would be a farce without Qui-Gon there, no meaning without his other half. Resolute, on their return from Naboo, he cut the braid off alone in his quarters, now his and Anakin's. With that final cut, the remnants of his bond with Qui-Gon died.

All that remained were memories, a lightsaber, and a braid.

Much later, after Dooku's betrayal on Geonosis, he gave the braid to Yoda, along with the lightsaber. It was in recognition of the kindness the Jedi Master showed him since his days as an Initiate. After all, he was Yoda's great-grand padawan, excluding Xanatos. He was weary, oh so weary.

It's too late, Obi-Wan. His Master's dying words created a void that went unfilled. They tormented him intimately. In many ways those hard fought words foretold the last days of the Jedi, of the Republic. How ominous those words proved to be.

Deep in thought, Obi-Wan made his way back to the common room. Alert, he pushed his awareness outward getting a grip on his immediate surroundings through the force, careful not to wake Cerasi. All those years and he still blamed himself for her death. He had failed her, he had failed the Jedi and the Jedi had failed him. He hid it well, put up a calm facade, but beneath the calm demeanor he was unable to find peace. His youthful appearance continued to shock him. He knew however that if he revealed his journey it would not turn out well. Possibly worse.

Seeing her peaceful expression changed something in him. It healed a deep wound that he didn't realize he still carried.

Trying to convince Nield and Cerasi that he had already lived would no doubt lead to serious questions about his sanity. Yet, there was no denying it. He was, for all intents and purposes very much the last of the Jedi, one of the few who survived.

He didn't understand his return to the land of the living, backwards in time no less. The more he thought about it the more the whole thought continued to nag. It was unsettling to say the least. For most of his life he had been mindful of the living force, on the present, on what needed to be done at the present moment. Before his Master's death he did at times put his commitment to the Jedi Order into question.

During his apprenticeship he grappled many a time with figuring out who he was and what he was meant to do.

It's too late, Obi-Wan. How had he, a senior padawan, survived when his Master did not. It shocked him to the core. It made him question if the combat training provided by the Jedi Order was adequate to meet the challenges and foes one would face in the real world. Yes, his Master was not as young as his opponent but one would think that his connection to the force combined with years of life and combat experience would greatly favor his Master.

Did that mean the dark side was stronger? Impossible. Something disappeared from their training, something critical had been lost along the way. In their triumph, because of their prestige, because they let the politics of the republic turn them into soldiers. It marked him with a deep wound, an emptiness that never fully healed. From that point on he threw himself into his work as a Jedi, as a general in the clone wars.

In need of a quiet place to meditate, Obi-Wan exited the med center and came across a small winding stream that led off to his right. Trusting his instincts, he followed it around the corner of the building and quickly found himself looking at a secluded garden surrounded by four black pagodas. He tread barefoot along the grassy path leading its center, early morning dew clinging to the hem of his trousers. He eased his body into a meditative posture taking in the scent of lily pads floating peacefully.

Shirtless, legs crossed, he sank deeper in meditation repeating no beginning, no end, flowing, with his mind.

Having found his center, he stretched and proceeded to warm up through a series of unarmed katas, beginning with the most basic. A half hour later, his motions were a blur, too fast for the human eye to follow. He was lost in the dance.

"Obi-Wan! That's beautiful!" Cerasi beamed. It was hard to tell how long she had been standing there, watching.

Startled, and a little embarrassed, Obi-Wan turned to face her, sweat dripping from his forehead, breathless. "I distinctly recall you being under strict orders to rest young lady," he said with a twinkle in his eye, beginning the cool down process by stretching.

She laughed. "Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong end of a blaster."

"Why yes, I did, and you're holding it! I am helpless confronted by your odd sense of humor." He teased.

"Pot, kettle, Kenobi." She stated emphatically.

His eyes lit up. "Ha! So you admit it."

"I might just have. But we'll never know, will we?"

He harumphed. "You my dear, are impossible. At least let me check your wound," he said moving closer. "I want to be sure there are no signs of infection."

"Obi-Wan," she groaned, "Really, I'm fine, I don't think it's humanly possible to sleep anymore than I have. And besides, I've been cooped up in that room for a whole week now. From what Nield told me I have you to thank for my rapid recovery."

He sighed. "You can thank the force because I'm not entirely sure what happened on the battlefield. I felt you die, felt your consciousness leave your body, you were in so much pain. It was palpable in the force"

Her eyes took on a faraway look. "I know, for a minute there, I thought I wasn't going to make it. I watched you hold me, cradling my body against yours. I saw you lift your head and cry out to the force. At that moment I felt a warm sense of peace wash over me and a pillar of white light came down from the stars and I felt myself rushing back into my body, back into yours arms."

Suddenly his voice took on an impish tone. "When you put it that way it does sound a bit, ah, romantic. Wouldn't you say?" She blushed, then decided to call his bluff.

She closed the gap between them, hovering dangerously close to his bare chest. "Hmm, I suppose it would at that, Kenobi" she purred lowering her voice. "But, I must ask, what exactly do you plan on doing about it?"

It was his turn to blush. "I'm ah, it's you're um..." She was smirking at him, definitely smirking. He scowled, but his eyes still held their mirth. It was at this moment Nield walked into the garden.

"Eloquent as ever I see Obi-Wan," said Nield saving his friend from his sputtering nonsense. "You bring it on yourself, you know."

"Admit it, you'd both be bored," he teased.

"But we'd get to keep our sanity," Cerasi shot back.

"Never heard of it," said Obi-Wan with a straight face.

Nield chuckled and said, "there's always one." Cerasi snickered.

"Hey! I am not!" Obi-Wan protested.

Cerasi shot him a look. "Whatever you say Kenobi, whatever you say."

By now, Obi-Wan was sure that even the force was laughing at him so he quickly changed the subject, adopting a more serious expression. "What brings you here Nield? I thought you would still be in Zahara?"

"I was, but once word reached me that you were both recovered from your injuries, I came here personally to bring you both back to the capital. We have created a ruling council to decide how best to transition to a time of peace. But, the council is still waiting for both of you to join it before any serious discussion begins. We felt it inappropriate to do so without the presence of the two individuals most influential in bringing about the peace we now enjoy."

Cerasi and Obi-Wan were both speechless. The Jedi was the first to speak. "Nield, thank you. I am truly humbled, and I will do everything in my power to help your people."

"As will I Nield," said Cerasi.

"Then come, I have a land-speeder waiting to take us there."

The land-speeder in question wasn't all that spacious. Behind the seat for the driver there was a single long seat meant for two people. At least I don't have Anakin's legs, Obi-Wan mused. As it was, the three of them were squished in pretty tight.

"Obi-Wan, I wanted to apologize for what I said at the hall of remembrance. Even though you were a Jedi, you are as much part of this world as I am. It was a thoughtless thing for me to say. I-"

"Nield," there's nothing to apologize for. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Is this the part where you guys hug?" Cerasi interrupted.

"Sounds like someone hasn't lost their sense of humor," Nield teased. "The ideas on this one eh, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan didn't respond. It was clear his thoughts were a million miles away. Above the planet's surface a fleet of ships appeared out of hyperspace. The command ship housed a familiar presence. Xanatos was on that ship. His presence could only mean one thing. Invasion.

"Hey Obi-Wan, where'd you go?" Nield asked waving a hand in front of Obi-Wan's face.

Obi-Wan looked horrified, his face pale. "It's an invasion army Nield. It seems that war has found us again. But this time, we don't stand a chance."

Xanatos gripped the edge of his command chair in great anticipation. He turned his attention to Admiral Zhou and said, "prepare my shuttle, Admiral, I wish to collect Qui-Gon's little brat personally. I trust you will begin operations to secure all the trinium ore deposits on this planet." It wasn't a question.

"Yes my lord, as you wish." And all the slaves I need to mine them located conveniently in one place. The planet's capital city – Zahara.

A/N: Big thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited and liked this story. I apologize for not updating on the target date. My next target date is Oct 26.