The Grand Army of the Republic had begun to assemble over Coruscant on Mace's order, issued following the Chancellor's assassination. Only battalions holding strategically vital positions had not been withdrawn, but units originally deployed to gain ground were returning to Coruscant. Mace was glad: Depa and Ahsoka were due to arrive that evening, and he looked forward to seeing them. Maybe they would have time to join Anakin and Mace for a real Lineage meal together.

Force knew Mace sorely needed it.

The Council was almost complete, something that hadn't happened since the start of the war. More Councillors meant more disagreements and bickering, and Mace supposed the chances were high that he would walk out of there with a raging migraine. But at this point, he was resigned to seeing his existence definitively plagued by pain.

Mace sensed that this meeting would lead to decisions that would influence the destiny of the Jedi Order, and that, as a community, they would have to put aside their differences to make the necessary choices.

Circumstances were forcing their hand, and the Force was whispering to them collectively that the status quo couldn't remain as it was. But before making any decisions, they had to get to the bottom of recent events. Fortunately, Mace had arranged for the presence of the right person to fill this objective.

"So, Archivist Kenobi. It seems to me you owe us a few explanations," said Mace, casually.

Kenobi stood in the middle of the Council room, with his back straight and his shoulders squared. His gaze was clear and frank, expression open and determined. It was obvious that he had finally chosen to drop the mask.

"I'm willing to agree, but if you could be considerate enough to ask me more specific questions so I can answer them accurately." His voice was strong, his diction precise and even.

Okay, classic negotiation move: not answering an unspecified probe, but showing goodwill while putting the onus of directing the conversation on the questioner. Kenobi probably had a lot more to hide than Mace and his team had already discovered, which was both interesting and worrying.

Hopefully, the number of potential interrogators in the room could help cover as many blind spots as possible, if Kenobi would remain cooperative enough.

"That's fair. We essentially have three subjects to discuss: the Clones, the Chancellor, and yourself, Kenobi. What do you think?"

"I think it's necessary, above else, to discuss what was discovered in the box this morning," Kenobi replied, and Madam Nu, who was standing back, sitting in a side chair, nodded. Other Jedi who were not members of the Council were present, like Tera and Vos, as holders of first-hand knowledge on the case. The Council Chamber wasn't a huge room, and wasn't designed to hold so many people. The atmosphere was a bit stifling, despite the climate control. But the liveliness comforted Mace. Seeing the Temple emptied of its occupants because of the war had weighed uncomfortably on his mind and heart these past months.

Mace bowed his head in acquiescence and swept his gaze over the assembly. "Fellow Councillors, do you see any other matters on which it would be necessary to dwell?"

Heads shook in negation. Mace understood everyone's impatience to get to the bottom of things. He would not delay further.

"Very well, then. A detailed report of the latest finds has been sent to you. We're meeting today to make the necessary decisions, but we need to shed some light on certain matters." As the Head of the Order, the role of moderator most often fell to him in this type of meeting. "Archivist Kenobi, you obviously had critical information concerning Chancellor Palpatine. According to our evidence, you conspired for years to put him out of action," said Mace. "How did you know about his true nature?"

Honestly, it was perhaps the most important question that haunted Mace's mind. From what information Tera had managed to gather, Kenobi had started acting when he was just a teenager, and that was more than twenty years ago.

"I don't know if this knowledge is really relevant, Master Windu. That's part of the past; shouldn't we be concentrating on the present, and on the decisions we need to make to guarantee ourselves a future?"

"You don't want to answer the question?" asked Mace, not a bit surprised but disappointed all the same. But he had no intention of giving up so soon. "Given the circumstances, I think it's preposterous to ask us to trust you with nothing on your part to show some goodwill. While the Force is... kind of vocal on the subject, I think it's fair to ask you for a modicum of explanation, isn't it?"

Kenobi audibly sighed, before running his hands through his hair to pull it back. His features were drawn and he too seemed to have a headache. Mace recognized the signs. "It's just that I don't think it's relevant right now. The Order needs to act without delay. Our enemies are still numerous, and Sid—Palpatine's death has created a power vacuum. And that's not something to be overlooked."

"Tell us to trust you, indeed, the Force says," Yoda chimed in, "but share what you know, you need, if to do the right thing, we are. Your responsibility, that is, young Obi-Wan."

Kenobi stayed silent for a few seconds, clearly torn. He swept his eyes over the assembly, seemingly weighing up the pros and cons, before answering: "What I can tell you, to assuage your fears, is that what I know is not the product of outside influence. My natural affinity for the Unifying Force has always predisposed me to visions. Much of what I know was relayed to me through the Force, when I bonded with my first Kyber crystal."

Truth, whispered the Force, rather clearly. But Mace also sensed that there was more to it than that. Perhaps they could work with what Kenobi had been willing to unveil.

"Hmm, there's obviously something more to this." Mace said, glowering. Kenobi held his gaze, unfazed. "But I think it's useless to hope to compel you to reveal what you don't want to. For now."

Kenobi nodded his assent, a small smile thinning his bruised lips. "The Force acts in mysterious ways, fellow Jedi."

The Archivist displayed an assurance that was at odds with the situation. Mace didn't know many people who would have been able to face the attention of the full Council without showing obvious signs of nervousness. This simple fact belied a lengthy experience with similar settings. Kenobi seemed intent on treating the occupants of the room not as a jury, but as collaborators. As equals.

Kenobi acted with a mixture of transparency and mystery that was a tad unnerving. Mace decided to stop playing nice.

"Is it your talent for seeing the future that revealed to you what was going on with the Clones?"

Kenobi visibly winced. Despite impressive shields and a habitually serene expression, he was clearly uncomfortable with this new subject. He nodded grimly, with a glance directed at of Commander Fox. The Clone stood rigidly at attention beside Vos, face impassive and eyes staring into space.

"Indeed. I had a…" Kenobi trailed off, as if thinking of the best way to formulate what he had to say. "I had a revelation of what would happen, if someone didn't intervene. A Galaxy plunged into death, destruction, with a gradual but inescapable disappearance of all hope."

Mace suddenly felt chilled, and he thought he perceived, in the Force, echoes of what this tragedy might have meant for the Jedi. Other Councilors shifted uneasily, and Yoda's ears dropped suddenly.

"Why didn't you inform us? Why did you fight this battle alone?" Plo Koon broached the questions that weighed most heavily on those gathered, for signs of curiosity were perceptible quite visibly on the faces of the meeting's participants.

Kenobi didn't answer immediately. His contemplative face was turned towards the large bay window to his left, letting the light bathe his serious and tired features. So high up in the Coruscant sky, and while seated, all one could make out was sky and clouds, giving the impression of dwelling in a floating city, not unlike the habitats that swarmed gas giants.

"To fight evil, one has to do questionable things." His voice dropped, as if making a confession. "I accepted long ago to pay the necessary price to eliminate this threat to the Galaxy and its inhabitants." Kenobi looked more frankly at Fox, who stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. "The Jedi Order is far too tied to Republican politics to have a free hand, and you wouldn't have been in a position to act."

"Bold words. The Jedi are not as weak as you seem to think," answered Shaak Ti, her fiery nature rebelling against the idea that they were powerless. Kenobi looked at her, and replied with a simple: "Yes, we are."

In his gaze, Mace could see a certainty that was chilling to see. His words had a gravity, a depth, as if the Force itself were speaking through him.

"Still," resumed Mace. "You could have involved accomplices, without informing the authorities. From what we've been able to see, you've established a network of informants, but you've acted essentially alone with frightening efficiency. Always at the right time, always in the right place."

"Visions can sometimes be... oddly specific." And he stuck to that. Mace was beginning to understand just how stubborn Kenobi was.

Mace sighed. "We can try to get to the bottom of how you were able to build your network and thus act under the nose of the Order later. We need to decide, as a whole and right now, what we can do about the control chips." He couldn't help but state further, glowering at Kenobi: "Whose existence was revealed to us only this morning, and quite incidentally, if I might add."

"We need to unchip the army, obviously, and as quickly as possible," said Shaak Ti, fangs almost bared.

"If I may say so, esteemed Councilors," said Kenobi. "You must do so immediately, and not wait for Senate approval to do so."

"We could be accused of treason. Are we sure we want to alienate the highest authorities of the Republic in these troubled times?" asked Plo.

"The same authorities that have been the seat of power of a Sith Lord for more than a decade?" said Kit Fisto, who had stayed silent until now. His whole demeanor spoke of restrained anger.

"You speak of creating a schism. For millenia, one of our tenets has been to serve the Republic. We can't turn our backs on it like this, while we're at war," Plo tried to reason, always the voice of prudence.

"This war is a farce, Councillors. No, worse than that, this war is an abominable trap. The Order must refuse to play this game, immediately." Kenobi's tone was turning urgent. "It's a matter of survival."

Kit Fisto waved the datapad displaying the detailed report concerning the Clones. "This… list of orders will give me nightmares for the rest of my life. The Order must not risk its survival just to comply with… politics."

"Councilors, please, anyone who thinks we should refer this matter to the Senate should speak up now." Mace waited, and looked at Plo, but the Kel Dorr remained silent before bowing his head in approval.

"I think we're all more or less in agreement." Heads nodded and no one spoke up to express further doubts.

"The High Council, as a whole, has therefore decided to act urgently, without Senate approval, to organize the immediate dechipping of the GAR, as well as the Coruscant Guards. Commander Fox, do you have anything to add?"

"No sir, I will immediately deploy the protocol we discussed together earlier." Fox looked at his chrono. "I have my operation scheduled in less than an hour. If you'll permit me." He saluted, formal and rigid, before leaving the Council Chamber without waiting for dismissal.

]o[

Jango had managed to infiltrate the Temple. The fact that the Clones had decided to set up their HQ there was rather timely, and he had thus managed to pass himself off as one of them. Being the genetic template was convenient, even if the Clones had been altered for their intended use. While taller and bulkier, the difference was subtle enough for most people not to look twice. Even the Clones couldn't tell Jango wasn't one of them, as he usually played the sole survivor of a unit, with no one able to contradict the version he chose to tell to justify his presence. Maybe the older Clones, especially the Command Class—with whom he had interacted a little on Kamino—, might have been able to spot him. Jango stayed clear of them, and that meant specifically avoiding Commander Fox here on Coruscant.

"Hey Jan!" called Owl. "Can you help me unroll and align this rug?" Jango did a double take. Owl seemed determined to cover the room's stone floor where two couches were situated, with what appeared to be a large, fluffy carpet. Jango himself had his arms full of a crate of datapads. He had taken on the role of moving and filing the documents, which gave him an excuse to go back and forth to places he wasn't supposed to be as a mere Clone.

"Are you serious? Why do you care about decoration?" Jango asked, appalled. He was helping the Corries finish outfitting what looked like an operations room. Jango had seen what had happened to their barracks and understood that they needed somewhere more secure to work on their investigation. "You do realize you'll have to take off your boots to avoid ruining it? It's going to be really impractical."

"It's already a bit damp, and if it stays rolled up, it'll get really moldy. I'd rather put it here for everyone to enjoy," Owl replied stubbornly.

Clones could get very touchy about material possessions, sometimes. Jango could easily understand why. He sighed and placed his crate on the ground before helping Owl to install his carpet as he wished, taking care not to step on it.

Jango hoped he'd be out of here soon. It made him sick to have to spend time at the Jedi Temple, but it was necessary to meet his employer's demands. He would have preferred to stick to the Senate.

From what he understood from whispered conversations, Fox, the Corrie Commander, no longer wanted to set a foot in there. Rumors were rife, but, apparently the Clones were beginning to understand their true role in all this. And it wasn't pretty.

Jango didn't like to dwell on the real implications of what his desire for vengeance had driven him to do. When depression struck at times, in the darkest moments of the night and when sleep eluded him, he reflected on the disaster that was his life. Despite how he sought to improve things or make a difference he only sunk further along a path divided from his Creed, a subject which his mind had gotten very good at avoiding whenever his thoughts moved in that direction.

Jango was trying particularly hard not to think about what would become of his Clones if Tyranus' plan came to fruition.

Back then, when the Sith had presented his plan, Jango had felt it was only fair that the Jedi meet their end by his hand. But now that he interacted with his Clones on a regular basis, he couldn't help but recognize them as fully-fledged human beings. It was too easy to see Boba in them.

The only positive thing that resulted from this fiasco was Boba, and Jango was self-aware enough to understand that his son was the sole reason he was still hanging on to life. Jango couldn't bring himself to regret the decisions that had allowed him to welcome his son into his miserable existence. But now wasn't the time nor the place to wallow in his life choices.

Tyranus had given him a simple mission and updated his orders last night. Jango was to locate and, if possible, get his hands on a specific object. The investigation had led him into the precincts of the Jedi Temple, which could be, along with the holds of a Spice Freighter, perhaps his least favorite place in the whole galaxy. He was looking forward to finally leaving this cursed planet and disappearing off the radar at last.

Jango had learned some interesting things within these walls and Tyranus would probably pay him handsomely for the information he had managed to gather. Some of the rumors he'd overheard stated that the Chancellor's assassin was a Jedi, and probably had a connection with the object he was trying to recover. He'd have to make a trip to the Archives soon.

]o[

Obi-Wan was hot. He could feel the sweat running down his back, and the sensation was truly unpleasant. After the spar, which had ended rather abruptly, he hadn't really had time to change. He had chosen to put on his Jedi robe despite the heat, as he preferred to have its sleeves and folds to hide his hands in if the need arose.

He didn't like moving around in just a tabard, which was too revealing an outfit for his taste. Old Ben had spent decades hiding his arsenal in the depths of his robe, which had saved the day more than once. Obi-Wan, in his current life, had chosen to perpetuate this handy habit.

While it embarrassed him in this particular situation, Obi-Wan still didn't feel comfortable enough to take it off. Being the focus of so many people judging and assessing him was definitively not his favorite spot.

Obi-Wan could also feel his headache returning, and that was rather unfortunate. He needed to keep his mind clear in this situation. The Jedi as a whole had clearly chosen to trust him, and the Force was apparently to blame for that. It was pushing for them to work together and to accept they were on the same side, without wasting time with pointless arguments.

An uneasy silence had fallen after Fox' leave. Obi-Wan sensed that everyone present had been deeply shaken by the information that had been brought to their attention. Obi-Wan was well placed to know that everyone had been led to appreciate, and sincerely like, the loyal men who served under them, united in the adversity brought on by war.

Knowing that these men were in fact a trap specifically designed to lead the Jedi to their doom required an emotional adjustment that was not easy to make, even for the most experienced Jedi.

Mace wore his usual air of sternness, which was doing a poor job of concealing his fatigue. It seemed to be Mace's default expression when interacting with Obi-Wan.

In his previous life, Obi-Wan had known the Head of the Jedi Order well. He reckoned Mace had even been one of his closest friends, for a time. Countless hours spent in endless meetings tended to bring you closer together, especially as their views on the Galaxy and politics, in general, tended to align.

The night the Order had fallen, Mace had perished under Sidious' direct attacks. Obi-Wan had felt him die, like all the others, and still felt that phantom pain that would never quite fade.

But Mace hadn't finished with him yet. His jaw was set determinedly, and Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't get off so easily.

"Kenobi. What exactly was the order you used on the Clones to put them in the state we found them in?"

Obi-Wan took a harsh breath. The feeling of floating became more intense, as the migraine gained ground. He really didn't want to dwell on this question, but he also understood that he had to show goodwill, if he expected the trust he was being shown to solidify into something permanent.

"I managed, without alerting anyone of my intervention, to integrate the possibility of...short-circuiting the chip. The aim was to be able to cancel an order and replace it with another, but it's also valid for activating the chip." Obi-Wan rubbed his sore jaw to help him refocus. The vertigo was getting more intense. "I...I was rather desperate, the other night. I was hurt, and not really in my normal state of mind." He didn't like how his explanation sounded like a pathetic excuse, when he was simply trying to contextualize his decision.

"What is this order, Kenobi?" insisted Mace, unyielding. Obi-Wan could feel his determination to get to the bottom of this.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and wiped his sweaty forehead with the edge of his sleeve. His hand was trembling, which wasn't usual for him. He frowned. "It's an order that anyone can give. You just need to know the right combination of words." And Obi-Wan wasn't about to pass on that trigger now, in a potentially compromised environment. "And no one will know of it."

He hoped his tone adequately conveyed that he would admit no contradictions. Mace's frown deepened, and he seemed to want to continue arguing, when Yoda chimed in: "The right time to share this, maybe it is not. But, if circumstances demand it, have to unload that knowledge, you will, Young Kenobi."

For the moment, Obi-Wan inclined his head. He would keep this knowledge to himself, and he felt partially relieved. His migraine was still looming and growing rather worryingly, though.

Mace sighed, and dropped the subject. "So, what can you tell us about what you've discovered in the coffer this morning?"

Ah. Obi-Wan was almost happy to finally broach the subject he considered truly important: how to move forward with his plan—nonexistent at this point—to eliminate the Sith threat once and for all. He began pacing up and down in the middle of the council chamber, hands clasped behind his back as if he were conducting a war council briefing.

"It's a Sith Wayfinder. An artifact that acts as both a compass and a key to one of the best-kept secrets of the Bane bloodline." He stopped to catch his breath. " This artifact leads to a planet deep in the Unknown Regions, capable of producing an operational fleet in just a few years, thanks to forgotten technology tied strongly to the Dark Side. In my ti— in my visions, this planet also had the means to extend life and clone individuals who are pursuing immortality."

Obi-Wan was afraid he'd said too much, too quickly, when he clearly felt the waves of doubt, and saw the astonished, disbelieving expressions of the Councilors present.

"If what you say is true, this is very concerning indeed," replied Plo Koon diplomatically.

Obi-Wan could feel himself getting dizzy, and he was beginning to think that this wasn't right. He needed to finish this damned meeting as soon as possible, and take stock of his condition. "We must prevent the Sith from getting their hands on this power at all costs. Sidious has been eliminated, but I wouldn't be surprised if he designed a way to cheat death, and if that's the case, we need to act pre-emptively."

"This... Sidious, is that Chancellor Palpatine's Sith name?" asked Shaak Ti.

"Darth Sidious, yes. But he's not the only Sith." Obi-Wan could hear himself speaking as if coming from far away, as if he were outside of his body, and his tone of voice seemed almost pleading. "There are others who can take up the torch of this machination, and the Jedi, as well as the Republic, won't be safe while they're around."

"You seem to have come to your senses, then; no desire to do everything on your own?" Mace asked with sarcasm.

Obi-Wan shrugged and answered: "A major player has been eliminated, and I confess I haven't had any visions of what might happen, now that we're beyond the point toward which I've put all my efforts so far. It wouldn't make sense to continue working alone."

"What would you recommend?"

"We must—" The vertigo hit him suddenly like a wall of bricks, and the sensation was too familiar for him not to recognize it at last. He put his hand to his neck, groping frantically for his Soul-Kyber.

He couldn't find it.

The dizzy spell became too powerful for him to resist and he fell to his knees. Exclamations rang out, but Obi-Wan was too disorientated to make sense of what was happening. Only one thought remained in his mind, as he struggled against the darkness invading his mind.

"We must–we must place this artifact in a safe place. The Sith—the Sith will come for it—"

A second later, Obi-Wan realized he should have told them first that he needed his Soul-Kyber to fend off the seizure, but the darkness engulfed him before he had the time to express this critical information.