Just a few quick notes! I apologize if the formatting was messed up in my previous chapter I worked to fix it as quickly as possible and should it happen again I will address it asap. I also realize I said I wasn't planning on adding to this account further but in an attempt to reach a wider audience I've decided I will be adding more content slowly. My primary home in on Tumblr and AO3 and it will be easier to reach me there since notifications are sketchy at best here at times.

Some context notes:

1.) I am playing with the timelines just a little bit, so if something doesn't completely line up just go with it!

2.) I'm aware the existence of Zeffonians is up in the air but I'm going with the assumption that they're not completely extinct and the council of first knowledge would be exactly where you might find one.

3.) Solan's midichlorian count is a bit high at 16,000, higher than both of his parents and while having two Force-sensitive parents doesn't guarantee a high Midicholirian count, it's not impossible either. Obi-Wan's is about 13,000, and Cressida's is probably a similar level though I haven't given her a number yet but I'm going with Luke's idea of force-sensitive beings producing more Force-sensitive children and I think it's reasonable to assume their midichlorian counts would maybe be a little higher than their parents.

4.) If you are wondering about Anakin's position on the Jedi Counsel, he is now a master after an in-depth inquiry into his behavior. Anakin didn't wait in the counsel chamber instead he found Mace Windu and instead of killing him he stopped Mace from executing Palatine, insisting on his arrest, that he had to stand trial for this crimes. This is the reason he wasn't expelled and his marriage to Padme is now public knowledge but it's not often talked about. Anakin now holds the proper rank of Master as he saved the Jedi Order from Order 66 and I'll touch more on that later. If you'd like more information in his Inquiry let me know in the comments below and I'll see about adding in a flashback scene for continuity purposes.


The residual shock followed the five masters as they adjourned to a smaller antechamber for further discussion. The transition from one space to the next was like day to night as if stepping into a pocket of calm compared to the confusing whirlwind of chaos that had just been unleashed.

Masters Mace Windu, Plo-Koon, Anakin Skywalker, and Yoda engaged in deep discussion. Their voices gave no indication that any hint of displeasure, frustration, or vexation was present. They spoke in inquisitive and investigative tones, devoid of accusation or condemnation. There was only a story to be heard, questions to answer and a course of action to be determined.

At the center of it all, looking as though the wind had been knocked out of him, was Obi-Wan. He stared blankly at no particular point on the floor, his eyes distant and unfocused, like a malfunctioning protocol droid.

He didn't join in the discussion, instead, sitting slouched with exhaustion, his once immaculate hair now disheveled and falling in limp strands around his face. The pristine robes that usually draped perfectly around him hung loosely, as if he couldn't be bothered to fix them. All traces of his usual charm and composure were gone— a portrait of a man grappling with an impossible truth.

He had fathered a son.

It all felt so surreal, as though he were watching a scene unfold in a Holodrama. He never much cared for those.

Even the deep, baritone of Mace Windu's voice failed to penetrate the barrier of Obi-Wan's disassociative introspection. Next to Mace stood Master Plo-Koon, arms crossed over his chest contemplatively. He listened more than he spoke but that was often his way; a steadfast anchor to keep those around him centered.

It was difficult to read Master Plo's expression due to his breathing apparatus, but the tightness in his posture suggested he was carrying thoughts and concerns that went far beyond the current discourse. With a subtle shift in stance, Plo-Koon looked to his left, where Anakin positioned himself standing between his fellow Masters and Obi-Wan.

Anakin's eyes swam with concern, as they flickered between the discussion and Obi-Wan, poised as if ready to defend his Master. A detail not lost on the smallest Master present, Yoda.

Not to be discounted by his stature, Yoda sat close by, his silence not diminishing his presence, it was his nature to not speak until he had something noteworthy to say. Until that time came, he listened attentively, nodding in accordance and offering no more than the occasional 'Hmm' in place of any committal response.

All around Obi-Wan, their words filled the air, but they were lost to him, just a jumble of noise and syllables. A language he couldn't comprehend that blended into a symphony of discordant notes, which only added to the ringing in his ears.

Yes, he heard the sound of his fellow Master's voices but they seemed distant and muffled, their concerns and queries drowned out by the steadily growing tinnitus that held Obi-Wan captive.

Before he could stop them, memories flooded his mind unbidden, taking him back to the last time he looked into those mist-hued eyes. In the chambers that had once belonged to his Master, which had borne witness to their whispered disclosures and fevered kisses, where tentative touches turned urgent—all of it unfolded before him.

He could almost feel the warmth of her lips against his, the fiery sensation of her touch inscribing stories onto his body that only she would ever know.

His fingers tightened against the fabric of his robe, the coarse material grounding him momentarily as he fought to stay afloat in the maelstrom of his own thoughts. The walls of the small chamber seemed to pulse with the force of the voices, the air vibrating with the power of unseen currents.

The ringing in Obi-Wan's ears crescendoed. Rising up like the whine of a starship's engine pushing beyond its limits.

The magnitude of the recollections swelled within him, threatening to sweep away the here and now under the surge of what had been. As the tinnitus grew louder, the voices followed suit, until they were deafening, and it felt as though he was about to tip over an unseen precipice into oblivion.

Then, it all stopped and a voice broke through. Like a lightsaber, dispelling the darkness closing in on his friend.

Obi-Wan quickly snapped out of his hellish reverie looking up at the twin pools of concern that filled Anakin's eyes.

"Obi-Wan?" Anakin asked gripping his former Master's shoulder. "Are you alright, old friend?"

Blinking rapidly, the room was suddenly silent and Obi-Wan willed the memories to the back of his mind, locking them away for the moment. The chamber came back into focus, the stoic faces of Masters Mace Windu, Plo-Koon, Anakin, and Yoda sharpening from the blur they had become.

He swallowed hard, somehow in the last few moments this throat had become as dry as Tatooine's many deserts.

"Yes." He lifted his hand in a subtle gesture meant to buy himself a moment to weave composure back into his demeanor. "I'm fine."

His chest expanded with a deep inhalation, focusing on filling his lungs as much as he could. With each inhale and exhale he felt a bit more calm, more himself. Finally, he was able to meet the eyes of his peers who looked on with apprehension.

"Apologies," he murmured. "Your question, Master Windu?"

His companions exchanged worried glances, their uncertainty written on their faces. Without speaking, they seemed to have a silent conversation before Mace repeated his inquiry.

"How is it that you are acquainted with the Sentinel?"

Obi-Wan nodded. Yes, that. His fingers twitched, perhaps out of nervousness or stress. He wasn't sure, but regardless of the source, his voice was solid, and he began to speak.

"I knew Cressida years ago, we were padawans together. Our paths crossed at an early age due to the close friendship between our Masters."

Never once had Obi-Wan uttered the name Cresida Vox, the name almost stuck in his throat, he was about to explain further, but it was Plo-Koon who spoke first.

"Deva R'lue."

Whatever discomfort lingered on the shoulders of the wise Kel Dor Master, quickly fell away with the utterance. Although his face was obscured by the mask and goggles he needed to survive, there was no mistaking the melancholy in his voice.

Mace wore a look of ambivalence, Yoda closed his eyes and looked to the ground, almost recoiling. Anakin looked on confused, yet another name that meant nothing to him, but all others seemed familiar with it.

"The Smugglers Moon?" Mace asked apprehensively.

Yoda and Plo-Koon shared a heavy nod and both looked uncomfortable. Confusion continued to swirl around Anakin like a flock of frantic porgs, noisy and disorienting. A question was forming on his lips but a tenative wave of Master Plo-Koons hand stilled any inquiries. This wasn't the time to indulge Anakin's curiosity.

The room fell silent again, and all eyes returned to Obi-Wan, waiting for the revelations that would bridge the gaps in their understanding. He spoke softly, his gaze still fixed on a distant point once again, this time he seemed to be looking into the haze of the past.

"I first met Cressida when she was ten and I was sixteen. She passed the Initiate Trials with remarkable ease and was chosen almost immediately. Not only was she bright, but exceptionally gifted. As I recall, several Masters had expressed interest in training her."

Plo-Koon shifted slightly and offered the tiniest nod.

Obi-Wan's expression softened and a hint of a smile formed at the corners of his mouth. "She could be a bit of a brat about it at times. I remember she used to—"

He paused, the memory almost drawing out a laugh, but he quickly cleared his throat, the gravity of the situation pulling him back. This wasn't the time for amusing anecdotes.

"It was a rocky start between us, largely because Cressida had quite the ego for one so young, and I was rather defensive and a bit insecure, I suppose. We didn't become friends immediately. However, over time, we learned from one another and eventually formed a friendship as close as that of our Masters. Although our paths didn't cross frequently, we kept in touch through regular correspondence when we could manage. Whenever circumstances permitted, we would share stories and hard-learned lessons over a meal and drinks."

His voice gained a reflective quality, the fleeting memories of camaraderie and youthful optimism fading into something more somber.

"Our paths naturally diverged as we grew, and we saw each other even less frequently. Our ever-shifting responsibilities led us in different directions, causing our once-close bond to slowly fade. Then everything changed when her Master died—"

Obi-Wan clenched his fists and then relaxed them, there was a quality to his voice so foreign that he seemed unsettled by his own words. It was apparent that there was more to the death of Cressida's Master but whatever it was that bothered Obi-Wan so deeply, he didn't elaborate.

"I didn't see her again until she was nineteen," The sharpness to his voice was gone replaced with sorrow, " –shortly after Master Qui-Gon's death."

At the mention of Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Anakinn was suddenly all ears, Obi-Wan rarely spoke about this tumultuous period of his life and Anakin remembered little.

"I was devastated by his loss," he continued.

It seemed that even speaking of the memory physically pulled him down, the events of Naboo still as fresh in his mind as they had been well over a decade ago.

"Anakin was about to become my Padawan. The suddenness of that responsibility left me feeling more inundated and unprepared than I had ever been." He paused, closing his eyes briefly, "Needless to say, I wasn't handling it all well."

There was a wave of discomfort over the Masters; the ghostly tendrils of guilt, perhaps. Obi-Wan had been twenty-five when he took Anakin as his Padawan after advocating passionately to fulfill his Master's dying request. It had been a responsibility the Council at the time had been hesitant to allow but while Qui-Gon had commanded a great deal of respect, he most certainly had a way of ruffling feathers, a trait which had been passed onto Obi-Wan. Perhaps it was that quality and determined spirit that convinced them to permit Obi-Wan to train Anakin, but still, twenty-five was quite young to have a Padawan.

"She was the first person to make me smile since Naboo. I hadn't been able to bring myself to eat for days, but with a bit of prodding, she convinced me to eat and before the night was out had me laughing like it was old times again." He blew out a little breath from his nose in a half breath, half laugh.

"It was just catching up in the beginning, we had both changed so much." He smiled at the ground as the warmth of a memory settled over him, one he wouldn't stifle. "After some back and forth, she confided in me that she had been chosen for a clandestine mission, one that would take her to distant worlds, and she believed our paths would never cross again."

He let out a defeated breath and his shoulders shrunk a bit, his hands falling limply in his lap. "Her departure was imminent."

A veil of vulnerability fell over Obi-Wan.

"Having just lost my Master, I feared losing another friend so quickly, and so, as she was preparing to leave, I-I pleaded with her to stay a while longer. It was wrong, and I shouldn't have but, she stayed with me, and our conversations became more... personal."

Obi-Wan had long held such a strict and rigid position on the code of the Jedi, it seemed so out of character for him to make such a decision, but it wasn't unrealistic. Pain was often the harbinger of recklessness.

"It was a fleeting moment, but one we both rationalized as seeking comfort amidst our looming responsibilities. We shared the night." He paused and swallowed straightening his shoulders once more and clearing his throat. "When I woke up in the morning, she was gone."

The room was full of Jedi who had known Obi-Wan since he was a youngling, had seen him grow and conquer great feats, train his own Padawan who had saved the Jedi Order and prevented a galactic disaster. Yet, despite those years of knowledge and trust, in the presence of those who knew him best, it felt as though perhaps, they didn't know him as well as they thought.

A few long moments of silence punctuated the room. What else was there to say? Nothing about what Obi-Wan had explained was terribly shocking or scandalous. Where else would a child have come from? It all just spilled out as if he were confessing to a crime, or some great wrongdoing that he ought to have been ashamed of, and it didn't sit right with Anakin.

While it was true that the Jedi were known for their long-standing prohibition of attachments, physical relationships were not forbidden, though many chose to embrace celibacy on their own accord. However, not all of them did. In fact, there have been many instances of Jedi having children with Jedi partners as well as non-Jedi partners.

"I don't remember any of this." Anakin's face was a portrait of complete bewilderment.

"Not surprising." Obi-Wan shrugged. "At the time, you were placed under the care of Master Adi Gallia while I prepared to be your Master and gathered myself. Your training began the day after Master Qui-Gon's pyre."

"Obi-Wan," The tone in Mace's voice was hesitant and even he seemed like he didn't want to ask the question he knew he had to.

"Is there a possibility, that Cressida… engineered the pregnancy? Manipulated you for her own purposes?"

Obi-Wan's eyes widened in genuine shock and he visibly pulled back, vehemently shaking his head. No one looked particularly happy at the inquiry but as Council members they bit their collective tongues, understanding that he had to seek truth, even if it led to uncomfortable questions.

"No. I know Cressida. She would never manipulate me in such a way."

Mace pursed his lips, taking a moment to choose his words carefully.

"Are you certain?" Simple questions often required simple answers, but nothing about this situation was simple. "Perhaps she sought to… find her way out of her assignment?"

Despite the careful wording, Mace's true inquiry was hard to conceal: Did Cressida manipulate Obi-Wan in order to avoid her assignment?

"Absolutely, not."

Obi-Wan's steadfast answer harbored no hesitation, nor could his certainty be shaken. It may have been ten years since he had seen Cressida and there were many secrets waiting to be discovered in light of the day's revelations. However, until he found a reason to not trust one of his oldest friends, he would not allow her name to be slandered.

Anakin's face scrunched up in incredulity, he couldn't offer an unbiased opinion but he didn't need to provide one given Mace's question. It just seemed such a farfetched conclusion to come to. He cleared his throat, attracting the attention of Master Windu and those around him. As the youngest Master present, Anakin knew he had to be careful with his words at this moment.

"Forgive me, Master Windu," he began, addressing the older Jedi. "But I find it hard to believe that Cressida would go through the effort of conceiving, carrying, and giving birth to a child just to avoid a dangerous assignment. Furthermore, if that was her intention, why would she wait ten years before taking action? It doesn't add up."

The doubt that had lingered now seemed to wane, but Mace, cautious as ever, wasn't ready to dispel all his suspicions.

"Do you believe her, Obi-Wan? Do you believe that Solan is your son?"

Certainty illuminated Obi-Wan's eyes, and he answered once more without hesitation.

"Yes, I do." With the admission, his previously heavy demeanor seemed to release something, and he straightened up slightly in his seat, then rose up as though reclaiming something about himself. "I had a brief conversation with Solan outside just before the meeting, and there was an undeniable connection, a resonance I couldn't explain at the time. But now, it all falls into place. If Cressida says he is my son then I believe her."

Anakin gave a slight nod of his head and added, "He definitely has your nose."

Obi-Wan's expression remained serious, but he quickly caught the hint of a jest meant to ease the tension, his lips curved into a small smirk. The tension in the room eased slightly with the lighthearted joke.

"Explains, it does," Yoda interjected, his words punctuating the stillness. "Such a high midi-chlorian count in the boy." Yoda looked at Mace, his ears twitching with interest. "A blood test, we should conduct, to confirm what we can."

The suggestion was a practical step forward in their quest for certainty and the Masters in attending nodded in agreement.

"Much has been revealed today. A bit of rest and meditation we all should seek." Several heads nodded and that at the core was the Jedi Way. When in doubt: meditate.

"But, a final inquiry, must be made." A look of reluctance on his wrinkled face. "A romantic attachment, was there, Obi-Wan?"

Anakin fidgeted, holding back the urge to defend his Master without even knowing the answer. A more biased opinion couldn't be found on the subject, apart from Master Anakin Skywalker's. The best argument he could make felt a bit too juvenile for the assembly present: 'If I can overcome my attachments, surely my Master can too.'

Yes, a bit too… immature a response, which was why Anakin said nothing, holding back his impulsive nature and allowing his Master to speak for himself.

"There was an intense physical attraction, Master Yoda," he admitted without shame or hesitation. "But it never evolved into a romantic relationship. Our encounter was a singular instance, born out of a moment of vulnerability and shared grief."

The end of one mystery, yet another loomed.

"Never did I think such a thing would ever happen," Obi-Wan muttered more to himself than anyone else, "I-I just-" Obi-Wan stuttered several times, trying to force the words in his head to conform to words spoken aloud but it just came out a jumble, and he took several steps towards the doors that led back to the council chamber. The place where his son was waiting.

"How could I have not known?"

The door was just a simple door and another step forward would see it slide open and on the other side would be a young boy, whom Obi-Wan had sensed was more than he seemed from the moment he laid eyes on him. But he didn't take that step. He couldn't and he retreated back to his seat, rubbing his face as if he was trying to wake from an overextended nap.

On this subject, Anakin found himself uniquely in a position to offer a perspective that no other Master could. He looked to his right arm and thought of the mechanical workings inside the black leather glove and how this hand would hold his children soon. How it held Padme and wielded a lightsaber to protect his growing family as well as his Jedi family.

"I didn't know Padme was pregnant," Anakin admitted somewhat sheepishly.

Several heads turned to look at Anakin, most expressions a mix of curiosity and bewilderment. The topic of Anakins 'indiscretions' as many referred to it, that being his secret marriage to a senator and Queen as well as the family he had kept hidden from the Jedi Order was something of a sore spot and not something he discussed often. Mostly out of awkward courtesy. They seemed uncertain as to why he brought it up.

Looking at his hand he could hear the gears and clicks with each flex of his fingers, he was lost in his reverie until Obi-Wans voice calling his name drew him from it. He quickly returned to the present, suddenly remembering he was trying to make a point.

"Padme was five months into her pregnancy when she finally told me about the babies. Throughout our courtship I was with her as often as I could, I held her at night and she slept by my side whenever we were able to. Yet, I never knew." He looked at his hands clenching and unclenching as if trying to imagine them holding such precious things as his children.

"How could I not feel the life inside her? Half of her, half of me?"

The question wasn't for anyone to answer, it seemed it was more of something Anakin was still wrestling with on a personal level. He shook his head in uncertainty.

"Padme, herself didn't know until she was almost two months into her pregnancy," He chuckled and looked to Obi-Wan, "My friend if the mother of my children didn't know, and I didn't know until she told me, The Chosen One… How can you ask yourself that same question and expect a different answer? Padme was right next to me. Cressida could have been half a galaxy away, you mustn't torture yourself with what is impossible to know."

His words resonated with the room and his fellow Jedi seemed both surprised and moved by his insights, but Anakin wasn't quite finished.

"It's funny, it was like turning on a light," Anakin removed his gloves snapping his mechanical fingers but no distinctive snapping sound could be made, only a sort of grinding metallic sheer. Then he switched to the flesh and blood hand that remained, and a sharp, crisp snap was heard. He smirked.

"As soon as she told me, I couldn't not feel them." He looked at Obi-Wan, "Can you feel him now?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and after a quiet moment he opened them again, "He's scared."

"And Cressida?"

Obi-Wan employed the same pensive moment of reaching out through the Force, but came back with nothing. "She's hiding, but I sense uncertainty and… Guilt."

"I'm sure, Obi-Wan, had she been able to tell you she would have. Perhaps, it's why you are the only one of us that she wouldn't look at back there."

Considering Anakin's words, Obi-Wan realized he was right. Whenever a Master spoke or asked a question, Cressida had acknowledged them in some way, even if it was just a small nod of her head. Yet, even when she had spoken his name, identifying Obi-Wan as Solan's father, she hadn't looked at him. Not once.

The amused and bubbly sound of Yoda's chuckle was heard, as he meandered over to Anakin.

"Observant our youngest Master is becoming. Great insight rule-breaking has brought him." He gave Anakin's boot a little jab with his walking stick, "But, an invitation to break more, it is not." He admonished humorously prompting more than a few chuckles.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement and cracked a smile, it was small and fragile but it was still a smile. Anakin held out his hands in defeat at Master Yoda's spritely but formidable presence, he hadn't been whacked with that stick since was a Padawan… Which really wasn't all that long ago.

As unpredictable as the day had been, nothing could prepare anyone for Mace Windu's next words.

"Master Skywalker is right,"

No head snapped to Master Windu faster than Anakins and he looked just as shocked as his mentor but didn't press his luck with any quick words.

"This is not a matter that can be resolved in a single day. The story is known but there are more questions that need to be answered before we come to any conclusion regarding your son."

His son.

The concept was as new and foreign to him now as it was when it was first uttered in the council chamber. It still didn't feel real, but it was undeniable. He was a father.

"We will adjourn for the day as we look into this matter further, Obi-Wan," Obi-Wan looked up at Mace, who wore a look of hesitation. "For the time being, I believe it is best that you keep your contact with your son and his mother… limited."

He didn't know what to say, something inside him that felt instinctual demanded he refuse such a ridiculous notion. He had just learned of his son, how could he not go to him? Or speak with his son's mother? It was Anakin's reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder that stilled any rebuttal and instilled calm.

"Only until we are able to speak with the Council of First Knowledge. I will reach out immediately. I do not mean to keep you from your son. I'm sure you have many things you wish to know from the boy's mother as well. I only urge caution for the moment until we can verify some information."

He didn't like it, anyone could who could see his expression could tell that. But Mace was far from a cruel man, in fact, he had quite the soft spot for children and anyone could tell he liked the young boy. Not many people held the power to bring about a smile on the stoic face of Master Mace Windu. No, it wasn't out of cold-heartedness, but as Mace had said– caution.

"We will begin with a blood test, confirm paternity and his midichlorian count. From there, we will all find our way. I think it prudent to keep today's events within our walls until a course of action can be determined."

The path forward was clear - they would consult the Council of First Knowledge, the repository of wisdom within the Jedi Order.

Although Mace was not the Grandmaster of the Order, it was no secret that many expected him to succeed Yoda in the near future, so when Mace set forth the sequence of events to be adhered to, none argued.

With the council's decision to adjourn, the room gradually emptied, the Jedi Council members departing to attend to their duties. Obi-Wan remained seated for a moment longer, his mind racing with questions and emotions, yet anchored by the reality that lay before him.

Before he departed, Mace looked over his shoulder, "It seems congratulations are in order, Obi-Wan,"


A little shimmering, green, glowbug strolled idly along the length of Solan's index finger, examining the soft fleshy digit it had landed on with what looked like curiosity. Its tiny feet, light as a feather, tickled his skin and brought a lazy smile to his face as he lay on his side on the balcony.

He'd been lying there for some time now, having given up on meditation long ago. However, he and his new little friend seemed to be enjoying one another's company, which was a blessed distraction because Solan was growing restless.

It had been two full days since the High Council and Solan himself learned the truth about his paternity, and he hadn't been quite himself. But that was to be expected to some degree. He was more subdued and quieter than usual but surprisingly composed despite the news.

Learning that all the stories he had been led to believe about his father were nothing more than tall tales wouldn't have been easy for anyone. Yet, to his credit, Solan handled the situation with a level of maturity and composure that many adults might not have managed under the best of circumstances.

He would have been within his rights as a young child to react with anger, but he held back. It would have been understandable if tears of betrayal streamed down his face, but he remained serene. No one would have judged him for demanding the answers that were rightfully his, but Solan chose a different path.

Instead, he observed the events unfold with a sense of detachment as his father was quickly escorted out of the council chambers, followed by several other masters. Afterward, he and his mother were ushered to their new quarters, now designated specifically for them. They were certainly much nicer compared to the subterranean home he had always known, this new place was much cleaner, cooler, and blessedly free of sand. He didn't like sand much, hated how it stuck between his toes.

Despite the beauty and perfection of his surroundings, and he'd wanted nothing more than to explore the grounds but he knew now wasn't the time to indulge in his curiosities. No, he had to exercise patience and wait.

The only other part of the temple he'd seen was during his brief visit to the Halls of Healing. There, accompanied by his mother and Master Plo-Koon, whom his mother seemed to know, though he wasn't sure how exactly. A simple finger prick confirmed his paternity: a perfect genetic match and a midi-chlorian count of 16,285 – undeniable proof of his connection to the Force and Obi-Wan. They even shared the same blood type.

Then, two whole days of nothing. If word had come to them from the High Council, his mother hadn't shared it with him. With no tasks to occupy his time and nowhere to go, all he could do was wait. He had tried to be patient, but being cooped up for two nights was getting on his nerves as a ten-year-old boy.

As the sun began its descent toward the horizon, Coruscant would soon be shrouded in twilight. With its four moons, complete darkness was a rare occurrence on the planet, and the abundance of artificial light ensured that true night was virtually impossible.

Tonight, two of its moons, Centrax 1 and Hesperidium, would be visible in the sky. He'd never seen a moon until they arrived on Coruscant. He could already see them, but he knew that Centrax 1's orbit was shorter and it wouldn't remain visible for long.

"Did you know what the Shadows Dance is?"

The glowbug skittered to his knuckle and then turned as if it realized Solan was talking to it and it looked at him.

"I'll tell you," Solan looked up to the sky and smiled before looking back at the glowbug. "It's a special event, it's when all four of Coruscant's moons line up and Coruscant is completely dark," Solan looked out at the light pollution that kept the sky from ever being truly dark.

"Well, almost." He added. "Y'see, it's a time when the veil between the worlds is the thinnest. Some people say that when it happens long lost souls roam the planet whispering secrets to anyone who will listen. People tell stories, meditate, and light candles for their ancestors. And when the sky is still black the souls need a guiding light back to their place of rest until the next eclipse. That's where you come in."

Solan smiled a sad smile and the tiny bug took a few steps up his finger, now resting on the back of his hand. Still looking at Solan as though it understood everything he was saying.

"Because it's completely dark, the souls need help finding their way back but artificial light confuses them because it's too bright, so they follow the trail of glowbugs into the ether until the next eclipse."

The little bug would be dead by dawn. Glowbugs had incredibly short lifespans, and it made him sad when he thought about the tiny creature on his finger. Its tail would glow in the darkness for a short while before the light would dim and its life cycle would end.

"It's not fair, is it?"

It was just a story, but Solan liked stories and the little bug didn't seem to be in any hurry to join its friends floating about in the sky. Maybe it was as lonely as Solan felt.

He could sense his mother's gaze from the doorway, filled with worry and guilt like wisps of smoke in the night. They hadn't spoken much since the council meeting - he had so many questions for her.

He'd been angry of course, lies no matter their purpose, always cut like a double-edged blade.

Learning that his father was alive and not dead, as Solan had always believed, was still hard to grasp, even with the genetic test results in hand. Especially since his father was someone he had always admired and considered a hero.

Their talk had lasted well into the night and despite all her promises of transparency, there had still been some things she couldn't fully reveal to him.

Her footfalls were as soft as ash fall and just as quiet, the little glowbug didn't seem bothered but it did turn to look at the intruder on their story time.

"Does he like stories too?" She asked gently.

Solan didn't reply beyond a soft shrug. He knew his mother was worried about him, but he wasn't being distant to hurt her feelings. He just didn't know what to say.

"Solan, it's alright to be angry with me."

He could hear the sadness in his mother's voice and it didn't belong there but he was unsure of what to do about it. He couldn't help how he felt. In order not to startle his companion, he made sure to stay still and speak in a quiet tone.

"I'm not angry with you."

She seemed surprised by his response, "You're far more forgiving than most in your boots might be," He shrugged, not committing to any answer other than that, and she huffed out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Solan. I wanted to tell you a thousand times."

"Only a thousand?"

"No, I just stopped counting after a thousand." She added lightly, hoping to coax a chuckle or a smirk out of him—anything.

Her dry wit seemed to work as in so many past hardships, and though she couldn't see his smile, she took note of the way his cheek puffed up slightly, giving away his amusement.

"It's ok, Mom"

It wasn't entirely a lie, but how could he be angry at his mother? Nothing that had happened was her fault. He wanted to be angry at something but anger was a dangerous path, so rather than acting on it, he was trying something most Jedi struggled with; he tried to accept it and make peace with it.

"Do you understand why my deceit was necessary, then?"

It wouldn't have been shocking if he moved away from her when she sat down next to him, but instead, he surprised her once more. Slowly, he lifted his hand and presented it to her, as if introducing his little glowing bug friend.

"It wasn't safe," He replied.

"It wasn't safe." She confirmed, holding out her finger but the bug seemed content where it was. "I wanted to tell you so many times, Solan, the truth about your father. You deserved better than tall tales." She sounded so sad at the admission and Solan finally looked up to his mother. "I wish I could have thought of better stories."

"They were really good stories, Mom." Her smile began to soothe the ache in his chest and he slowly sat up and and leaned his head against her shoulder.

They sat together, the three of them for a few minutes as the sky continued to fade into twilight.

"Do you think it was a mistake to come back to Coruscant?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt.

She took a moment to consider her response before answering. "No, Solan," she replied with enough certainty for both of them. "Meeting with the Council was crucial, they and your father deserved to know the truth, no matter what the Council decides. This is where we needed to begin."

Solan bit the inside of his cheek again, as he often did when he wasn't sure if he should speak his mind.

"Do you-" He paused, looking at the ground, "Do you think he's mad at me?"

She blinked in confusion, "Who? Master Windu?"

He shook his head, "No. Fath-" He paused again and his face scrunched up in trepidation "Master Kenobi."

She shook her head in utter bewilderment.

"No. Why would he be mad at you?" Solan offered no words, not even a shrug. Just the childlike tendency to blame themselves when things were difficult. "If he should be mad at anyone, he should be mad at me, I'm the one who kept you from him."

"It wasn't your fault, Mom."

She looked contemplatively then brushed the hair from his face, seeing an opportunity for a quick lesson, then held out a finger once more and this time the little bug seemed to trust her enough to wander from Solan to his mother.

"Well, if it's not my fault and it's not your fault, then who's to blame?"

"No one?" Solan offered unsurely.

She tapped his nose, "That's right. There's no blame here, Solan." Cressida let the little bug wander back to Solan but it seemed to finally take a liking to her and it remained on her finger, its light glowing a little warmer.

"We've been two peas in a pod for a long time you and I, it's going to take some some getting used to but we are exactly where we are meant to be," she murmured. "Don't you think?"

He was about to answer when he realized his mother wasn't talking to him but rather to the glow bug. It twirled in small, silly, circles. A smile tugged at the corners of Solan's lips as he watched, feeling the weight of guilt lift from his chest with each spin.

"Why isn't he flying off with the others?"

They both looked up at the darkening sky, where a dozen other glowbugs began to light up and flutter away. She turned her attention back to the bug in front of her, noticing its delicate wings against the bright green sheen of its body. Then, she saw it.

"I think his wing is damaged. Maybe he can't fly."

Solan Looked crestfallen and the little bug walked from her finger back to his.

"What's going to happen to him?"

The answer was simple and he wasn't sure why he was asking, but his mother was as smart as she was kind and she smiled.

"He'll join his friends when he's ready. In the meantime, I think he likes your company. What stories were you telling him?"

"The Shadow Dance."

"That's a good story. Maybe he'd like another?" Solan smiled "How about the Guardians of Coruscant?"

He nodded and curled into his mother's embrace, the little bug snuggling into Solan's palm as Cressida began to do what she did best whenever Solan was troubled, telling him stories, her specialty.


In the indiscernible time between day and night, Obi-Wan, Mace Windu, and Yoda made their way to an area of the temple few ever saw. A strikingly cold place within the walls of the Order in the Northwestern spire; the Tower of First Knowledge.

Though it stood tall, reaching into the sky with the other Council Spires, there was an undeniable chill that permeated through the stone walls and corridors, giving it an eerie atmosphere reminiscent of a long-forgotten dungeon, instead of a tower.

The Jedi were not a superstitious group by any means, but it was widely known that unless a Jedi had matters that required a trip to the Northwestern spire, most avoided it entirely.

As soon as Obi-Wan stepped inside, he felt an immediate sense of unease and scrutiny, he felt watched. Even Mace, usually unaffected and unflappable, seemed a bit more on edge.

Dimmed lighting cast elongated shadows across the room that seemed to reach for them and slight breezes blew from unknown sources like it was pushing them closer to the center of the room. The space was both austere and devoid of furniture or adornments, suggesting it was designed solely for conducting serious and confidential matters.

The air seemed to whisper ancient secrets, having witnessed countless discussions and decisions that shaped the fate of the Jedi Order as an unseen hand often at play. This was a place steeped in hidden knowledge, where the truth often remained shrouded in mystery and nothing was as it seemed.

The three men exchanged glances, silently wondering about the Counsel of First Knowledge member they were about to meet. They weren't a particularly social bunch, and there was some question as to who exactly they were meant to be meeting.

Despite the stable light source, shadows suddenly flickered and an unexplainable shift in the atmosphere occurred. The temperature grew colder and a heightened tension filled the room, as if a mysterious presence had entered the chamber.

"My apologies, Masters, for my tardiness," A smooth voice broke the silence, it held the same quality of a serpents hiss, causing all masters to snap their heads to the source.

Draped in robes that were unusually dark, blending in seamlessly with the surrounding shadows, she emerged. Her movements were swift and almost otherworldly as if her feet barely touched the ground.

"I am Noxella, and I speak for the Council of First Knowledge. I have been observing you."

Her last statement was a bit chilling.

When the details of her features were distinguishable, Obi-Wan found himself greatly surprised, Noxella was a Zeffonian.

The Zeffonians, or, Zeffo's had long been thought to be extinct, as they hadn't been seen in the galaxy for centuries. He recalled the stories he had heard about the ancient and reclusive species with deep ties to the Force. Known for their mastery of secrets and enigmatic abilities. It seemed almost appropriate that one of her kind would serve on the Council of First Knowledge, and even more so that no one would be any the wiser.

"You seek information concerning the Sentinel Mother, Cressida Vox," Noxella stated, her words uttered in a tone that revealed little.

"The Sentinel Mother?" Obi-Wan asked, his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar title.

Noxella nodded, "Indeed," she replied, her voice low and mysterious. "The sentinels are a close-knit group, and news travels swiftly among us. As so nicknames."

Obi-Wan felt a sense of unease as if he was being studied. He had encountered many Jedi Masters and Council members, but this woman radiated an aura of power that was both intriguing and, if he was being honest, a bit disturbing. He exchanged a glance with Mace and Yoda, both of whom appeared equally intrigued and cautious.

"Vital, this information is," Yoda said firmly, but in a voice that conveyed the respect Noxella commanded. "to assess Cressida's actions and guide the young one, Solan's path."

Noxella's response was cryptic, almost riddle-like.

"Secrets are the foundations of knowledge, and knowledge is the path to understanding," her words dripping with a quiet sibilant timbre. "Cressida Vox's mission was cloaked in secrecy, with only the faintest whispers of her deeds known to a select few."

"We seek the truth," Yoda said gently, "and the Council of First Knowledge holds the answers."

"You seek truth, but truth can be a double-edged blade. The Sentinel's tale is one of sacrifice and trials, a constant struggle with the darkness and light. Some truths are best left uncovered, but others demand illumination. You understand I will not be able to give you all the answers you seek?"

Yoda nodded.

Noxella considered this, her dark eyes piercing through them. "Very well, but understand that once the door to knowledge is opened, there is no turning back."

Noxella continued, her voice dark and heavy. "Cressida Vox, operated under an assumed identity, was assigned to an undisclosed world on the outer rim. The specifics of the planet and her mission are considered highly sensitive." The finality of her tone left no room for negotiation in this part of the story. "She was cut off from the Jedi Order to maintain her cover and protect her mission's integrity."

Mace's eyes focused on Noxella, narrowing slightly. He wasn't a fan of being told 'no.' "And during these ten years, did she ever reach out for assistance or guidance?"

Noxella's lips quirk into an almost imperceptible smile. "Cressida was trained and prepared for her assignment. She was expected to handle any and all threats that arose on her own. The mission demanded secrecy and independence." Novella paused and replied. "No, aside from her routine communications, she had no contact with us."

"How often were these routine communications?" Obi-Wan asked, a little confused.

"Once every ten years." Noxella's response was curt, "The Counsel of First Knowledge deemed that any direct communication with the Jedi Order could jeopardize her mission."

Obi-Wan's heart sank as he contemplated the loneliness and isolation that Cressida had endured, all for the sake of her mission.

Mace sighed, frustration evident in his voice. "Master Noxella, we understand that you may not be at liberty to share all the details of Cressida's mission. But we need to know if she faced any threats that could have affected her judgment or her standing in the light."

"Most certainly," She looked from one Master to the other, landing on Obi-Wan. "but her dedication to the mission and her training allowed her to navigate these obstacles with strength and fortitude."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation as he asked, "Noxella, did the Council of First Knowledge know about Solan?"

Noxella's previously composed demeanor faltered for a moment, her eyes flickering with a hint of surprise. She hesitated before responding, "No. The existence of Solan was kept from even us. I must stress to you Master Kenobi, that very few know the exact circumstances surrounding his birth."

Obi-Wan processed her answer, trying to make sense of the information. "So, you were not aware of his existence at all?"

"No," Noxella responded firmly, possibly with a hint of annoyance at being asked the same question more than once.

Obi-Wan's mind raced with questions, but he could sense that Noxella was not willing to divulge more than she had, but he decided to probe a bit further.

"If her assignment was so vital, how was she able to return?"

Noxella hesitated for a moment before responding, "Solan's unique abilities in the Force became increasingly difficult to conceal as his visions and powers grew stronger, and the risk of their identities being discovered increased."

Mace leaned forward, intrigued by this revelation. "Solan's abilities were a threat to Cressida's mission?"

Noxella nodded, "Yes. Cressida was on the verge of being compromised, and it was decided that the safety of both Cressida and her son necessitated their immediate extraction. The Council, with the aid of the Sentinels and Shadows, orchestrated their return, ensuring their identities remained intact."

Obi-Wan stroked his beard and gazed at the pot on the ground, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. His thirst for knowledge overcame him and before he could stop himself, the inquiry tumbled out.

"What happened during those ten years?"

It was foolish to expect an answer, he knew that. At best he would get a cryptic response but despite the certainty of being proven right, he couldn't shake the feeling that Noxella understood, and just for a moment there was a flash of empathy in her eyes.

"I cannot say. But, it is perhaps in your best interest, Master Jedi, to remain ignorant of the full extent of her deeds and the threats she faced. They will bring you no peace."

Mace seized the moment to interject, his tone reflecting his tactical mindset and warrior's instincts. "You mention threats—what kind of dangers did she face?"

Noxella's response was evasive yet again, albeit a bit snappy. "I cannot provide specifics, but I assure you that her mission demanded a rare combination of bravery and resilience, qualities found only among the elite members of her Sentinel brethren."

The room was silent, except for the gentle sound of Noxella's robes brushing against the ground as she moved away. She seemed ready to vanish into the darkness from whence she came. Obi-Wan stood there, his eyes never leaving her slowly retreating form.

"On this subject, I'm afraid we have exhausted the topic and I can reveal no more to you. Aside from saying that, Cressida Vox is a high-priority agent of the Council of First Knowledge, and she has proven herself indispensable to the Order."

Noxella's gaze softened, and she gave a slight nod of acknowledgment. "She served faithfully," she added, "and has endured deep wounds, both of the body and the spirit. Her sacrifices should not be discounted." Her words held a sharp edge as if they were less of a statement and more of a warning and she looked between Mace and Yoda. "Remember, Masters, that while you sit on your thrones in the Council Chamber, the Sentinels are the ones who stand guard in the shadows. They sacrifice their peace for the sake of your sleep."

Then that same gaze fell on Obi-Wan, and her voice took on a more pointed tone, "You are fortunate to have such a woman as the mother to your child."

The room fell into silence again, with Mace, Obi-Wan, and Yoda exchanging glances. When they turned back, Noxella was nowhere to be seen, leaving behind an air of intrigue. Mace subtly shook his head, feeling unsettled by the Council of First Knowledge's elusive nature.

"I've never been comfortable dealing with the Council of First Knowledge," Ma admitted.

Yoda clutched his cane thoughtfully, his wise eyes gazing into the distance. "A secretive sect they are, indeed," he said. "Many truths they may hold, but always shrouded in shadow, they remain. Grateful for what we were given, we should be."