In the dead of the night, Obi-Wan awoke. He was alone in his room. He must have slipped into sleep without realizing it, while he concentrated on the task Madam Nu had assigned him.
He admitted that work had done him good, allowing him to leave his preoccupations at bay while he focused his mind on a task that was repetitive and tedious, but whose nature allowed it to be accomplished in a semi-meditative state.
But something was unsettling him now. He frowned. He felt a stirring in the Force, and assumed it was this that had awakened him. He closed his eyes to extend his awareness beyond the limits of his body.
The night was well advanced, and many of the Temple's residents were asleep, tinting the Force with the torpor of sleep. But behind this quietness, Obi-Wan tasted anticipation and unrest.
Obi-Wan stood up cautiously. He needed to move. His muscles were still slightly sore, a remnant of the severity of the seizure, but he felt better than he had in days. No one was checking on him; it was time to leave quietly. Obi-Wan didn't need to stay in a place where people might take too close of an interest in him. He sorely missed his tranquility and anonymity, but he assumed that was a time long past.
For now, he needed to check the Vaults, or at least the manifests relating to their contents. Obi-Wan needed to know where the Wayfinder was kept, and he wouldn't wait until tomorrow for the decision of people who had no idea what the thing meant, even if they were Jedi. Not when a vague feeling of urgency was building steadily in the Force.
He put on his robe and his soft-soled shoes. Someone had put his lightsaber on the little table adorning the corner. He clipped it at his belt and felt his tension alleviate marginally, before quietly leaving his room. The corridor was deserted, still Obi-Wan used a glamor to not draw attention thus slipping out without raising alarm. He didn't think anyone would have stopped him from going out anyway, but he preferred to avoid unnecessary discussion.
Few Jedi were about at this time of night. This was how Obi-Wan preferred the Temple: quiet, peaceful, but alive.
It took him only a few minutes to reach the Archives, and the research unit where his office was located. It was a place that never completely slept, as the various researchers worked there at all hours of the day and night. Taking a quick scan of the surroundings, Obi-Wan noticed that very few people frequented the surroundings. Perfect.
Like a ghost, Obi-Wan entered his office without his presence being registered by anyone. When the door closed softly behind him, he turned on the light, breathed a sigh of relief and felt his shoulders unclench. He still felt a tension in the Force, but he felt better being able to act and not staying powerlessly bedridden.
Sitting in his desk chair, he pulled out his comm to check his messages. Quite a few were waiting for him with updates on the movements of some of his Persons of Interest. He would take stock with them tomorrow; he didn't feel like cross-referencing the movements again when he had already done so in the morning.
He did, however, have a message from... Qui-Gon? The man wasn't part of his contacts list in this life, but Obi-Wan knew his comm code by heart. Some information had not faded with the years.
Displaying the message, he saw that it was an invitation to lunch for the next day. Odd. The man had never sought to pursue their almost-relationship, after Obi-Wan had strongly discouraged it. Obi-Wan frowned. The old fox was surely motivated by curiosity. He had obviously heard the latest rumors and probably wanted to get to the bottom of things.
Qui Gon had formulated his message in such a way that if Obi-Wan wanted to decline, he had to do so unambiguously.
It was maybe the occasion to build a relationship with the man that had been his Master. The way things are going currently, Obi-Wan might not have a choice.
All those Jedi seemed determined not to leave him alone anyway.
Wrinkling his brow, he decided to think it over and answer adequately tomorrow. He had more pressing things to deal with than worrying about his social life right now.
Something was still bothering him. Yet things seemed to be moving in the right direction, which was a surprise in itself. The Jedi hadn't locked him up, and they were well on the way to settling the Clone question. But Obi-Wan felt he was missing something important.
Not knowing where the Wayfinder was seemed to be his current main problem.
The Force was waiting for something to happen, and Obi-Wan had gone through too many tragedies to think it would be anything but a catastrophe.
Pulling out the computer in his office, which was connected directly to the Vaults manifest. Nothing significant had been deposited or removed there today. But that in itself was not revealing. Madam Nu could very well have restricted the information to be accessible only to a certain number of people.
Obi-Wan had the credentials to check the contents of the safes himself. At least, he had until two days ago, but perhaps that had since been revoked. Frowning, he resolved to go directly and check for himself, consequences be damned. If he got yelled at, it wouldn't change his situation anyway. He would rather not wait to find out more.
The Vaults were gathered at the end of a corridor, at the very edge of the Archives. To access them, it was necessary to have the appropriate codes, as well as a tactile recognition system that was not easy to bypass. But, like any security system, if you had the patience and the means, no system was inviolable. And Obi-Wan knew this place well. On several occasions, he had been able to tap into the Vaults to serve his personal purposes, without anyone being the wiser.
If there was one specialty Obi-Wan had, it was how to act and move undetected. Old Ben had had extensive experience, spanning more than a dozen decades. In Sidious's Galaxy, acting without leaving a trace had proved vital for him.
On his way, Obi-Wan met no one. He kept his senses open, scanning his surroundings regularly to detect any presences. There were a few people going about their business, whose attention was not directed at him.
He found himself in front of the access panel, and as he tried to enter his credentials, the Vaults denied him access. Well, that answered part of his question. It was highly likely that whatever he was interested in was indeed behind these walls, but he couldn't be sure, which didn't sit well with him.
Frowning, Obi-Wan tried to assess whether it was worth burning one of his cards just to reassure himself and alleviate his rising tension, or simply surrender and wait for the morning.
"Ah, young Kenobi. I'm glad to see you here. Your expected behavior will let me win the bet I made with Mace."
Obi-Wan turned around, with a frustrated huff. Madam Nu was standing in the corridor, slightly out of breath. She must have set an alarm warning her of his failed access, and she must have run all the way here from her office.
"I wanted to let you rest quietly, but I see you've been unruly. Not unlike a child, if I may say so," she said with a mischievous smile. "And, between us, I had to let you have your freedom to win my bet."
Obi-Wan crossed his arms defensively. He felt vaguely ashamed, and vexed at being so predictable. "So the Wayfinder is definitely here, I knew it."
Madam Nu raised a finger. "Ah, think what you will, you'll get nothing from me tonight on that point."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Madam Nu was far too shrewd to be fooled.
"Come now, my friend. Since you're up and determined not to want to sleep, why don't you come and share a cup of tea with me?"
Obi-Wan let out a defeated sigh. "Fine, my dear, let's both have a drink. At this point, I suppose I've got nothing better to do."
"Now that's a wise decision, which is amazing coming from you lately, mind you." As she spoke, she reached over to sling an arm over his shoulder to nudge him in the direction of her office. "I'd love to see you go back to being the reliable, sensible Archivist I once knew so well. I'm sure he's hiding somewhere, not so far away, is he?"
Obi-Wan didn't give her the grace of answering, and let himself be led away from the Vaults' entrance. Rather grudgingly, he had to admit.
Madam Nu kept her arm around his shoulders, crowding his personal space. He didn't know what to make of it, and wasn't sure he appreciated the closeness, even if a distant part of him relished in the physical contact.
They headed for her office, which occupied a central position in the Archives, allowing her to better supervise the Archives activities. Reaching a busier part of the Archives, they passed a few people, most of them Jedi immersed in their research, and a Clone who was carrying holobooks and datapads. Whispered greetings peppered the encounters, but no one sought to engage in conversation.
Obi-Wan frowned. Something tugged at his mind, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was precisely.
"You opened the Archives to the Clones?"
"They moved into a series of rooms not far away, which had previously been unallocated. They needed a safe place to gather, after a particular someone had trashed their barracks." She eyed him. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Obi-Wan reflexively wanted to reply that it didn't bother him at all. On the contrary, he was convinced that giving them access to knowledge would be the path to their freedom. But deep down, he knew he had a real problem with the reality of what the Clones meant to him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea that still chipped-Clones were running about unsupervised in the Temple.
Madam Nu, seeing that he hesitated to answer, continued: "We have a responsibility towards them, my dear. We've contributed heavily to this situation and we have to face up to it."
"I'm well aware of that, believe me." If anyone bore most of the responsibility, it was him, first and foremost. "I just wish we'd made sure they were… not a liability, before letting them roam freely here."
"Don't worry, things are moving positively on that front. Let time do its work."
Obi-Wan wished he could let go and let the others manage, but the anxiety wouldn't leave him. If anything, the tension that had been building since earlier had risen, and nothing that was happening right now was helping him to distance himself from it. This feeling of mounting anticipation was becoming more and more precise, and knotting his stomach more and more.
"There's something..." he trailed off, and stopped walking. He looked back at the path he had just taken. The corridor was empty, and the few people they had encountered had disappeared.
And then, it struck him sharply. He knew this soldier, whose signature he could still feel in the Force.
He wasn't a Clone. It was Jango Fett.
Obi-Wan exploded into action, not caring to explain anything to Madam Nu. He freed his lightsaber in the same motion that threw him forward. He ran in the direction the bounty hunter had walked, using the Force to power his legs. Within seconds, he reached the corner of the hallway and caught sight of Fett's silhouette. The man, hearing his movements, glanced over his shoulder and cursed. Fett let go of whatever he was holding and started running.
Fett was heading out of the Archives, and he was far enough away that Obi-Wan couldn't easily grab him with the Force. Obi-Wan had to get closer first. He mentally seized the Force surrounding him and compressed it into a tight ball positioned behind his back. He braced himself and jumped at the very instant he released the pressure. His jump sent him flying, the ceilings high enough to accommodate his trajectory. Obi-Wan thus drastically reduced the distance separating him from the Mandalorian.
The man was running like crazy, as if he had death on his heels. He didn't run in a straight line, instead making erratic changes of direction, complicating Obi-Wan's task.
Obi-Wan was about to land on him, when Fett suddenly dodged through one of the doors in the corridor. Obi-Wan crashed to the ground, rolled and projected himself in the same direction. Blindly grasping with the Force the architectural elements of the room they had just entered, he launched himself forward. Overextending himself, he managed to tackle the bounty hunter to the floor.
To be on the safe side, as one can never be too careful with this kind of asshole, Obi-Wan used the Force to hold Fett's hands flat on the floor, while he put his full weight across his enemy's throat, lightsaber powering near his face.
"Fancy seeing you here, Fett," Obi-Wan gritted between his teeth.
The bounty hunter blinked dazedly. "My name is Jan, Sir. I don't know what I've done, but surely we could have discussed it instead of jumping me like that."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to call his bullshit—he knew Fett's Force Signature well, having tracked him many times before—but someone said before he could utter a word: "What does this mean?"
Obi-Wan straightened his head to take stock of his surroundings. He cursed. Fett had taken refuge in the room occupied by the Clones during their stay at the Temple. A good thirty men were surrounding them, and their hostility towards him was clearly perceptible. Obi-Wan, however, did not let his guard down.
Jango Fett, posing as a Clone and roaming freely the corridors of the Temple was bound to be very bad news.
Commander Fox stepped forward to stand a few paces away, his blaster aimed at him. "Archivist Kenobi. Care to explain why you're assaulting one of my men?" The Corries commander's gaze was hard and unyielding, and Obi-Wan knew he had exhausted whatever leniency the man could have had towards him.
"He isn't one of your men, Commander. This man is Jango Fett, and surely you have heard of him. But, most importantly, he works for Dooku," Obi-Wan said, coldly.
"This Jedi is delusional, Commander. I'm a simple grunt, nothing more!"
Obi-Wan had to make an effort to keep his focus on the Force, while remaining attentive to what the Clones would decide to do.
"Power down your weapon, Sir." Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. He knew that Fox was acting in the most reasonable way possible; in a confusing situation, the most intelligent course of action was already to avoid escalating violence. After a second's hesitation, Obi-Wan complied and deactivated his lightsaber.
"Good. Now get off of him please," ordered the Commander.
"I'm not moving from here until you've done what's necessary to verify his identity. This man is dangerous, and has no business here." Force knew what sensitive information Fett had passed on, because Obi-Wan had no doubt that he hadn't stayed idle just for the fun of it.
Fett's features twisted into a mean smile, so alien on the face Obi-Wan had learned to associate with good, loyal men like Cody, Waxer, Boil and so many others. His heart clenched, and anger surged. He grabbed the plastoid edges of the bounty hunter's armor to place him violently back on the ground. "What did you say to Dooku?" Obi-Wan knew he sounded desperate, but he needed to know.
"It's too late, Jet'ii. It's the end for you, and maybe for me, too. There's nothing more you can do to stop it. This place is cursed anyway." And Fett laughed a mirthless, almost despairing laugh.
"What? What do you mean?" The feeling of anticipation that wouldn't leave Obi-Wan suddenly intensified, transforming itself into a powerful negative presentiment. A flash of light drew his gaze to the windows set high in the wall, but wide enough to make out clearly what was happening in the sky.
Ground-to-air countermeasure missiles were meeting a shower of shooting stars, exploding in Coruscant's upper atmosphere. There, the Confederacy of Independent Systems army had just engaged the Republic fleet.
"It's too late, he's already here," said Fett, unhappily.
Obi-Wan swore. Dooku had chosen the perfect moment to make his move. Of course he was going to act as soon as Sidious' had been removed from the picture. And Obi-Wan had been totally caught off-guard. He had wasted too much time. He should have left the Temple as soon as he had the chance. Now, millions would pay dearly for his lack of foresight.