Obi-Wan took another spoonful of the topato soup, dipping his morsel bread in it, relieved that the hunger pangs were subsiding from three days' worth of hunger. The newly Knight Jedi mulled over the information for the tenth time, disliking the fact that there wasn't much.

Kenobi took a sip of sapir tea, the warm, rich smell tickling his nostrils. It reminded him when he used to bring a cup every morning to Qui-Gon, after the loss of Tahl, his master's love. For months, the Jedi Master was despondent and had practically given up on training him until he eventually helped him overcome it.

Though he knew the grief was still there. Somewhere buried deep, hidden from prying eyes. That grief was one of the reasons that Qui-Gon was so harsh to him when it came to Satine. Satine—

He cut his thoughts off there, returning his attention to the datapad. The creature he fought on Naboo was a Zabrak. A small profile had been composed for the tattooed attacker, based off much of the information pulled from the fight. It wasn't much to go on.

However, it was a good thing there was a local Zabrak expert. Agen Kolar. He could've gone to Jedi Master Eeth Koth, a Zabrak himself, but he knew it would be easier to converse with a peer versus a Council member.

"Congrats on your Knighthood, Obi-Wan."

The Jedi Knight looked up to see the dark-skinned Zabrak, horns protruding from his skull and long, black hair tumbling down over his shoulder in soft waves. A friendly smile was on the Knight's face as he slid into the seat from across Kenobi.

"Word spreads fast," the young man said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

"You know how we talk. Remember when Qui-Gon said that the Sith were back? The entire Jedi Order knew within the hour." Agen chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "We're a bunch of gossipers when we want to be."

"How could I forget," Obi-Wan muttered, taking a big spoonful of his soup, feeling its warmth travel through his body.

"You said you needed me?"

"Yes." The young man pushed the datapad toward his friend. "He's a Zabrak, correct?" At Agen's nod, he continued, "I need you to look this over and make sure this information is correct."

The Jedi Knight grabbed the datapad, scrolling through all the contents of the screen until he reached the bottom. "All of your information is correct." Obi-Wan smiled, grabbing the datapad when it was offered to him. "But not the type you're thinking."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're assuming that this Zabrak is Iridonian." Agen turned the device back to him, scrolling up the footage of the Sith Lord where it was zoomed in on the creature. "But he's hardly one of us. That is a Dathomirian. A Nightbrother."

Obi-Wan looked at the image of the Sith Lord, then at Agen, then back again, trying to find the difference between an Iridonian and a Nightbrother. Besides the obvious, they didn't look very different as a species. "What is the difference?"

"Well, for one, Nightbrothers have their clan tattoos etched onto the entirety of their bodies." The Zabrak Jedi traced the black markings on the face of the Sith Lord. "Two, they tend have more vibrant skin tones than Iridonians. Such as orange, yellow and the less common red."

The Jedi Knight looked over the Sith Lord, and then back at Agen's face, seeing the differences now. "Is there anything else that sets them apart?"

"Yes," Agen continued, smiling at his friend's intrigued expression as he took notes. "While my species hails from Iridonia originally, there is a small sect of Zabrak males that live on the planet Dathomir, born from the joining of the planet's natives, the Nightsisters. They all are Force-sensitive, and very dangerous."

"All of them?" Kenobi was surprised.

The Zabrak nodded. "Dathomir is a nexus of dark side energy. It's what gives the Nightsisters their power, if that is to be believed. Outsiders don't know much of Dathomirian culture because nobody from that planet trusts anyone outside their planet."

"Hmm…" Obi-Wan hummed, looking over his newly added notes with satisfaction. This was going to be better than he thought. "I'll need seek out the Dathomirians then."

Agen looked bemused. "For what reason?"

"To hunt the Sith, of course," Kenobi responded, finishing off the last of his stew. "The Council gave me a mission to find them, and I intend to do so. This," he lifted up the datapad with the Sith Lord's face on it, "is the start."

"Do you know the name of the Sith Lord?"

"Not yet," Obi-Wan admitted, sighing. "I have to wait for Quinlan Vos to arrive on Coruscant. His psychometry will come in handy to discover who he is. That's why the Council called him back here from his mission."

"That one is a troublemaker," Agen remarked, shaking his head. "He's renown for breaking the rules. It's a wonder he became a Jedi Master."

"His rare ability to see visions of the past by just touching an object could do that for him." Kenobi shrugged. "It's once in a century thing, I think."

"Well, if you do end up on Dathomir, I'd advise you to be cautious. The Nightsisters are dangerous, even more so than the males," the Zabrak cautioned, shifting in his seat as he crossed his legs. "I doubt you'll have to interact with them anyways, since they segregate themselves."

"They live separately? Why?"

"The Nightsisters are dominate in that society, and the males only live to serve the females. They are kept around for breeding purposes. The Nightsisters will stop by the male encampments, take the fittest of the tribe, and leave."

Obi-Wan made a thoughtful noise. "Interesting. I suppose the Nightsisters like their men docile?"

Agen chuckled. "Perhaps. They might be subservient to the witches, but that does not make them any less dangerous. The Nightbrothers aren't trained in the Dark Side. Only the Nightsisters, which makes them all the more dangerous. Avoid them at all costs."

The young man nodded and stood, shaking his friends hand. "Thank you, Agen. You've been a great help."

The Zabrak joined Obi-Wan. "If you need any more help, I will humbly lend you my assistance, oh great Sithkiller."

"Ha ha ha, you're so funny," Kenobi said with a roll of his eyes.

The smile on the Knight's face slowly faded, and he tilted his head. "On a serious note, what do you intend to do next?"

"I intend to get permission from the Council to go to Dathomir." He grimaced, knowing how long that could take. "However, while I wait, I will continue with my research to see if I can find anything else, along with looking into any other planets the Sith might be hiding on."

"You won't find anything in the Archives," the Zabrak warned. "The Council has forbidden any information related to the Sith."

That's stupid… Obi-Wan thought but understood their reasoning. Research the Sith could lead a Jedi to the Dark Side if they weren't trained properly, which is why only Jedi Masters could assess forbidden information. But still, even the Jedi Code said it: there is no ignorance, there is knowledge. It seemed a bit hypocritical…

"Oh, I know. I already tried." Kenobi smirked at the expression of his friend. "It's good thing there's something called the Galactic Senate Archives."

Agen Kolar groaned. "I get the feeling that Quinlan Vos is not going to be a good influence on you if you ever stuck together, which the Force is telling me you will."

"I didn't realize you specialized in precognition, my friend," Obi-Wan drawled, waving a hand as he turned away from his fellow Jedi. "I'll keep your advice in mind, though. Oh, and do you mind? Yana is waiting for me to return with my bowl, but I have important Jedi-business to attend to." He waved a datapad. "Thank you in advance!"

The young man took long strides away from the library, ignoring all the gazes that followed him as he walked. He was heading to the hangar bay of the Temple to get a speeder to get to the Senate Archives when a young voice called out to him.

"Obi-Wan, sir!" He almost didn't turn around when he recognized it. But when the voice called his name twice, he craned his neck to see a young boy approaching him.

"Hello, Anakin," he greeted, forcing a smile and taking in his new appearance. His unruly hair had been shaved and styled, and a learner's braid rested on his shoulder, complete with crisp Jedi robes. Something in him twisted at the sight. "Is there something you need?"

"Qui-Gon wants to see you," the child informed him, blue eyes shining brightly.

"Oh. Well, I am busy right now." He held up the datapad for Skywalker to see, starting to walk away once again.

"But he really wants to see you," the boy insisted, tugging at Kenobi's robes and forcing him to turn around.

"Anakin, I—" Obi-Wan looked into those big, blue eyes and sighed. "Fine."

The Jedi Knight followed Anakin down the halls and was surprised how quickly the boy had learned to navigate the Jedi Temple so confidently in such a short period of time. Within five minutes, they arrived at the medical wing, and Obi-Wan nearly just walked away at the sight of Qui-Gon propped up on the bed.

Blue eyes met his. "Obi-Wan."

"Qui-Gon." Kenobi took a breath and sat on the stool next to his former Master, watching as the injured man shifted to get a better view of him. A hand reached out to where his braid used to be, then patted him on the shoulder.

"I heard you were Knighted." Pride shone in his Master's eyes, and a small smile curved his lips. "Congratulations, you deserved it."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips, and he pretended that his ears weren't burning at the praise. "Perhaps. I don't believe I am ready though."

"You? Doubting the Council's decision?" The Jedi Master laughed. "What has this world come to?"

The young man reached up for his braid, then remembered it wasn't there. He sighed. "I don't know. It's just…"

"You are ready, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's hand was back on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You were ready a long time ago."

His Master was only saying that because he wanted Anakin, the much younger and better version of him. Not even two days ago, the Jedi Master was telling him he had much to learn. "You get to train the boy with me out of the way," he said bitterly, glancing at the child who was fiddling with his new robes.

"Obi-Wan…"

"What? It's true isn't it?" He stood up, raising his hands defensively. Skywalker looked up at both of them, his eyes darting between the pair. Kenobi sighed and slowly lowered himself back into the seat. "I apologize, Master. My emotions got the better of me. I didn't mean what I said."

…or did I? Something cold coiled deep within his chest.

Qui-Gon patted his hand. "I saw the footage. Your fight was impressive with the Sith Lord."

Kenobi bit his lip, trying to suppress the smile worming its way onto his features. "You did?"

"Who hasn't?" His Master laughed heartily. "Mace Windu came in here earlier ranting about it. Every datapad in the Temple has a copy of the footage. Every youngling wants to be the Sithkiller's apprentice."

The young man was sure he was blushing at this point, and he ducked his head at the words, feeling pride swell within him. "I know. Master Windu gave me a stack of letters from the younglings who've given their reasons why they should be my student."

There was a soft laugh from the man. "Are you going to take a Padawan?"

The Jedi Knight shook his head. "Certainly not. If I don't believe I'm ready for Knighthood, I'm most certainly not prepared for teaching. So I took on a mission to hunt the Sith."

Qui-Gon frowned. "That's a dangerous mission, Obi-Wan."

"I know."

"How long will you be gone?"

Kenobi bit his lip. "I'm not quite sure. Before I can go anywhere, I must wait for Quinlan Vos to arrive on Coruscant. The Council wants him to take a look at the Sith's lightsaber and see if he can get anything from it."

The Jedi Master nodded. "Where has your investigation led you?"

"So far, I've discovered that the Sith Lord was a Zabrak Nightbrother from the planet Dathomir. Once I get permission from the Council, I intend to go investigate their clans and see if they can lead me to the Sith Master."

"Dathomir is a dangerous place," the man warned. "A powerful dark side nexus. Be careful, Obi-Wan."

"I don't fear the darkness, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan stated firmly, feeling the connection he had formed during the fight against the Sith stir as he spoke. "I am a Jedi."

"Mm. Even so, you are young, headstrong and you haven't been a Knight for long." Kenobi knew that Qui-Gon was thinking of Xanatos, his first student who fell to the Dark Side. Well, he wasn't him. He was much better. "I implore you to be careful. I don't want to lose you to the Dark Side."

"You won't," Kenobi promised, feeling his Master tug at their bond, searching for his feeling which were safely tucked away. "That isn't going to happen."

"Please come back safely," he said softly. "Obi-Wan, I mean it."

"Of course, Master," he said smoothly. Kenobi stood and smiled gently at the injured man. "You have to promise me to take care of yourself. After all, you have boy to train." He glanced at Anakin, who averted his gaze.

"I promise. Now go, and may the Force be with you."

Obi-Wan nodded, turning away from his former Master and leaving the infirmary. Light footsteps pattered on the ground, and he turned to see the boy following him.

"Do you something, Anakin?"

Skywalker nodded, shyly shuffling close to him and holding up his datapad. "Do you think you can sign this?"

"You want my autograph?"

The boy nodded, looking down at the ground. "Yes, Obi-Wan, sir."

The newly christened Knight briefly considered telling the boy who stole his Master no and to shoo, but looking at his hopeful face, he decided otherwise. He didn't think he had the guts to break the child's heart, even if he was responsible for him being tossed to the side.

"Well, hand it over then." Obi-Wan waved his hand and held it out. Anakin's features lit up and he all but tossed the device into his hands, followed by a marker. Kenobi wrote his name in elegant letters, which reminded him of when his teachers would complement his impeccable writing when he was a youngling.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan, sir!" Anakin exclaimed when the Jedi Knight handed him back the device, broadly grinning as he jumped in joy. Then, he suddenly grew serious and ducked his head, flushing. "Sorry…"

"For what?" Kenobi tilted his head, curious about the boy's behavior.

Anakin muttered something.

"Speak up, Anakin. I don't understand gibberish."

The red spread across his face and down to his neck. "For misbehaving."

Obi-Wan furrowed his brows. "You weren't misbehaving."

"Watto thought I did when I got too excited," the boy mumbled, downcast. "He'd beat me."

The Knight cringed at the statement and knelt, placing a hand on the child's shoulder. "Nobody is going to beat you here. Well, maybe Master Windu if you annoy him enough." Anakin looked up at the joking tone and smiled softly.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan, sir." The boy glanced back at the infirmary. "I have to get back to Qui-Gon." Without another word, Skywalker ran off and all Kenobi could do was watch his replacement fade away, jealously rolling under the surface of his shields.

A large, wooden box with a brass lock sat on a table in the center of the ring of chairs in the mostly empty Council Chamber. It contained the Sith Lord's lightsaber, the half Kenobi had been able to recover from Naboo.

He tapped his foot impatiently on the floor, waiting for Quinlan Vos to arrive. The Kiffar was fifteen minutes late. It was unbecoming of a Jedi to be late to the Council, even more so for a Jedi Master. It truly was a wonder that Vos became a Master…

The doors to the Council Chambers flew open and a man with curly black hair, dark eyes and a tattooed face dressed in a sleeveless, skin-tight, black body armor underneath Jedi sashes that draped over his muscular form.

"Sorry I'm late." The Master sounded completely unapologetic, earning a glare from Mace Windu, while Yoda simply smiled. His gaze turned to Obi-Wan. "You must be the infamous Sithkiller, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Infamous?"

"Why of course," the Kiffar drawled, draping an arm over his shoulder. "Word travels fast. Everyone's talking about it. You even got a name for yourself in the underworld, Sithkiller."

"Don't believe anything he says, Kenobi," Mace said with a roll of his eyes. "Now, onto business." He gestured to the wooden box, lying dormant on its pedestal.

"That thing has a lot of bad mojo around it," Vos remarked, striding over to the container and flipping the lid open. Obi-Wan followed the Master and grabbed the lightsaber, feeling the darkness inside reach out to him. He nearly dropped the lightsaber in a panic, until he realized they didn't sense it when he looked around at the Masters, who were patiently waiting for him to hand it over.

Slowly, cautiously, he placed the broken saber in the Kiffar's hand. Vos closed his eyes, and Obi-Wan observed the man's tanned face, watching it twitch and tense as memories flooded the Master's mind. Quickly, Vos dropped it back in his hand, clutching at his waist and gasping. Small beads of sweat had formed.

"Did you get anything?" The Knight asked impatiently.

"Geez, you're impatient," Quinlan muttered, straightening. "I couldn't see much, the Dark Side was clouding my ability to see. But I could feel the pain of being cut in half." He winced, rubbing the spot where Kenobi had sliced the Sith Lord in half.

"Well, try again."

"Obi-Wan…"

"With all due respect, Master Yoda, we can't keep waiting." Obi-Wan crossed his arms, turning to the Grandmaster. "Every second that passes is another second the Sith freely roam around the galaxy, doing who knows what! We need to get a name at least."

"I agree with Kenobi," Mace said approvingly, nodding.

The Kiffar groaned. "Alright, alright. No need to be so pushy." He gripped the lightsaber once again, his whole body tensing as more visions flooded his mind. Vos' body started to shake the longer he held it, and Obi-Wan quickly yanked it out of his hand.

Quinlin's eyes snapped open, and he gasped, hugging himself as he fought to regain control over the tremors wracking his body. "The Dark Side is obscuring everything."

"Nothing then?"

"No. I got a name," the Kiffar admitted. "Maul. Darth Maul."

Obi-Wan grinned. This was perfect! "Thank you, Quinlan."

"Great, you owe me a drink now," the man said, grinning slightly. "You can give it to me when you invite me to your Knighting celebration."

"Too bad I won't be there." He shrugged, grinning at the Kiffar's soured face. "I've got important work, and trivial things such as drinking aren't at the top of my list."

"You really need to loosen up, Kenobi," Quinlan remarked, smirking slightly. "Maybe I can help you with that."

"Alright, enough you two," Mace Windu said, cutting into their banter. "Thank you both for your contributions." The dark-skinned man pointed looked at the Kiffar Master, who dramatically bowed. "Kenobi, the Council will consider your request to go to Dathomir."

Obi-Wan nodded. "What about my request about accessing the Forbidden Archives?"

"There's nothing for you there," the Jedi Master said coldly, crossing his arms. Kenobi could feel the Jedi Master pushing against his mind with the Force, probing for something, but the darkness within him rose against the man, strengthening his defenses.

"I disagree." He crossed his arms, meeting Windu's gaze head-on. "How can we be expected to fight the Sith if we know nothing of them? I need to learn more, we need to learn more about the Sith!"

"Dangerous, the Dark Side is, Obi-Wan," Yoda said, tapping his stick. All heads in the room swiveled to the tiny Master. "More dangerous, its knowledge is."

"No. The Code says it itself!" Obi-Wan started to pace. "There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. Don't you think it's hypocritical if we don't follow our own Code simply because we are afraid of the Dark? What point is there—"

"Kenobi, enough," Mace said icily, dark eyes boring into him disapprovingly.

Yoda merely chuckled. "Like Qui-Gon, starting to sound you are. Influencing you, he has been." The little Master hobbled over to Windu, jabbing his stick into the man's leg. "Ignore Mace, you must. When a good point is given, like it he does not."

Windu scowled at the Grandmaster and crossed his arms.

"A good-naturedness, he lacks." The wizened Master smiled at the sniggering Jedi pair, who were failing to suppress their laughter. "In these times, relief to the mind, humor can be. Learn it, he must."

Quinlan grinned. "Words of wisdom."

The Grandmaster hobbled over to Obi-Wan, tapping his leg with his gimer stick. "Your request, the Council will discuss, Kenobi. But patient, you must be." Yoda looked at Vos, then back to the new Knight. "New friends, you have. Celebrate being a Knight, you shall. But not too much, hmm."

The Kiffar took that as his que to wrap his arm around the sputtering Obi-Wan, shooting a charming smile at the Jedi Masters. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of him. He'll be back in one piece, totally not drunk, in these Chambers tomorrow when the Council bestows their great wisdom upon us lowly peasants."

"I—" the Jedi Knight was absolutely certain he was red, and he shuffled away from the Master. "Might I keep the lightsaber?" Suddenly, he felt like a youngling asking for permission to use the bathroom. It was an embarrassing thing, often garnering laughter of the entire classroom. "It could be helpful in my research while I await the Council's decision."

"You may," Mace Windu said with a nod. "Just… don't do anything stupid, Kenobi." He glanced darkly at Vos, who grinned. "Especially with him."

"I understand, Master." He bowed respectfully to the pair. "Thank you for your time, Masters. I will continue with my research, and hopefully, uncover something else about the Sith."

"What he said," Quinlan remarked, clasping the Jedi Knight on the shoulder as he guided him out the door. In a quieter tone, he added, "You know, I know the best place with drinks around here…"

"Not happening." Kenobi shook off the Kiffar's hand and took long strides to the elevator, repeatedly smashing the button. It was unnecessary, and it wouldn't make the elevator come faster, but desperation to get away from Quinlan Vos overrode all common sense. "I'm going to the Senate Archives; you're going back to wherever you came from."

"Oh, you wound me," the Master said, dramatically miming being stabbed. "Wait, Senate Archives? Somebody is breaking the rules."

"It's not breaking the rules if they don't exist." Obi-Wan huffed, stepping into the elevator. "Besides, the Council didn't forbid the Senate Archives, just the Jedi's."

The Kiffar, unfortunately, followed him in, casually leaning against the wall. "You're learning well, my friend."

"We're not friends." He pressed the button that would take him to the hangar bay. "We never will be."

"Ouch." Quinlan laughed. "I'm still coming with you though."

"Don't you have something else to do?"

"Nope."

Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing his face. This was going to be a very, very long night…

It was official: Quinlan Vos was the worst Jedi ever. True to his word, the Kiffar had accompanied him to the Senate Archives and since then, a few hours ago, he had done nothing but be useless. Force, the Master was going to kill him before his mission even started.

"Is this it?" Vos asked, waving a drive of data from the pile on the floor. It was one of the many in the large, domed room of the Senate Archives. The entire place was one giant mess, and it made his job more difficult now that he had to sift through hundreds of thousands of disorganized files.

"For the a millionth time, no."

"You didn't even look at it."

"I don't have to," the Knight retorted, tapping a section of the terminal that the disk that contained Dathomir's information could possibly be found. Section 1A. He glanced at the section, reading the sign and cringed when he saw another large mess there.

"Quinlan, go search over there for anything about Dathomir."

"I'm not your slave," the Kiffar retorted, even as he crossed the room and started to search for the file. "What's the name of it?"

"Dathomir," he deadpanned.

"No, really?"

Kenobi rolled his eyes. "I can give you the number."

"I won't remember it anyways," Vos responded, laughter lacing his tone. "I'll let you know if I find something. Though I do have to wonder: why am I doing all the work?"

"Because you're my slave, remember?" he mocked, unable to help himself as he crouched by a pile of disks and pulled one by one out of the pile with the Force, briefly glancing the numbers. "You said so yourself."

Vos gasped dramatically. "How dare you, Master. That's not what I said."

"Hmm…" Kenobi continued his search in the pile of disks, tossing them to the side one after another, none being the one he was looking for. Was it so hard to keep things organized? He was going to file a complaint to whoever was in charge of this mess. "I'm just tired of hearing anything that's not, 'I found it.'"

"You found it?" Quinlan asked, playfully. Obi-Wan didn't respond, instead tossing one of the drives at Vos, who yelped and rubbed his head. "Hey…"

"Oh, you're him!"

The new voice was soft and calm, pleasant sounding. Obi-Wan ignored it, hoping that whoever it was, they were talking to someone else, and not him. When quiet footsteps drew closer and stopped by him, the Jedi Knight turned to look at the man. He was middle-aged, and could be considered handsome, holding himself with great importance.

Blue eyes twinkled knowingly, holding great intelligence in them. "I saw you from the security footage of Naboo."

"Ugh, don't tell me the entire Republic has that now."

"Not at all," the older man assured with a smile. "I had it sent to my office once I heard the rumors. Your actions there were vital to the peace of the Republic."

"Oh… um, thank you…?"

"Oh. I thought you would know me from the HoloNet." The man extended a hand. "I'm Chancellor Palpatine."

"You're the new one. I apologize; I wasn't in the best state at the time." He took the Chancellor's hand, and the older man clasped both hands tightly over his. "I'm—"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're all the Jedi are talking about." Obi-Wan flushed and smiled shyly. "Your actions on Naboo were valiant, especially with how you slew that savage beast. You sent quite a message to the Trade Federation."

"Oh, no. I—"

"Yup. That's Obi-Wan for you," Quinlan drawled, sauntering from Section 1A as he slung a shoulder over the Knight's shoulder. "He basically told them to—"

"Quinlan!" The Knight felt uncomfortably warm with all the attention. The Kiffar only grinned.

"And you are?" the older man asked, extending his hand.

"Quinlan Vos, best friend to Obi-Wan Kenobi and his partner-in-crime." Vos shook the Chancellor's hand firmly, smirking at Kenobi.

Obi-Wan burned with indignation. "We are not—"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Quinlan Vos," Palpatine cut in before turning to Kenobi. "What are you looking for Master Jedi? Perhaps I could help. I am more than willing to offer my assistance."

"I am looking for information about Dathomir," the young man said, reaching out to the Force to gauge Palpatine's intentions, only finding a desire to help them. Surprise flitted across the Chancellor's face at the mention of the planet. "And I'm a Knight, not a Master."

"I apologize, Knight Kenobi," the man corrected himself and then asked, "Why Dathomir?"

"I'm on a mission," he said in a clipped tone.

"Ah, very well then." Palpatine pulled out a datapad out of his robes, running a finger over the screen until he found what he was looking for. "Well, it's in the Quelii Sector, located in the Outer Rim. It has not been a part of the Republic for a millennia, and according to my information, witches have populated the planet since."

"May I?" Obi-Wan gestured to the datapad. The Chancellor nodded and handed the device to him, and the Knight searched through the information until he reached the bottom. This was everything he needed to know about Dathomir! "Where did you get this?" he asked, glued to the screen. "Everything here was spread out, unlike this."

"Ah, well…" the older man glanced at the broken claw attached to the wall, having a pathway to move around freely on the dome, it was a device that was supposed to help organize the Archives. "It seems the Senate's filing system doesn't agree with my personal one."

"You can say that again," Quinlan remarked, crossing his arms as he stared at the machine.

"Indeed. This Archive is due for some… reorganizing," the Chancellor admitted wryly.

"Do you have files for Malachor or Korriban?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked. It wouldn't hurt to find out if they had information about the Sith. If the Council was going to refuse information that was vital to his mission, he would find another way to obtain it.

Palpatine looked confused. "I've never heard of those planets. Perhaps I could find something about it, or call—"

"No. Never mind, it's fine." The Jedi Knight ran a hand through his hair, sighing. So much for that. "It was just a thought." One day, he was going to have to find something about those planets. They were sacred places for the Sith Lords of old, and it would make sense if the modern Sith were hiding there.

Unfortunately, that information was restricted…

"Thank you." He smiled at the Chancellor, and took his hand, shaking it. "You've been a great help. You have no idea how much easier you've made my mission."

"Our mission," Vos whispered, teasingly. Obi-Wan ignored him.

"It was no trouble. I'm glad I could be of assistance." The man gestured to the console. "I could transfer the information for you, if you would like. I'm afraid I can't loan you this." He held up the datapad with a warm smile. "I am terribly curious though, Master Jedi."

"About what?" Kenobi asked, resisting the urge to correct the older man.

"The fight. How did you defeat that beast?" The man was simply curious, but for some reason, it made his temper flare.

"You watched the footage."

"I must admit, the fight was lost on me. Everything was moving so fast; I could hardly keep up." The man glanced at the Knight, who smiled thinly in response, clenching and unclenching his fists. "From what I could tell, you and the other Jedi were outmatched completely. It was a miracle that you won."

A red blade protruded out of his Master's side, burning through clothing and flesh.

That same anger flared, and the darkness responded to the strong emotion, gripping it firmly as it clawed its way up. His shields remained strong, however, and he forced himself to take a breath and not lash out at the man.

"I don't know," he ground out. A warm hand was on his shoulder, and the Kiffar Master was watching him with concern. Obi-Wan shrugged the hand off, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose I just… focused."

There is no emotion, there is peace.

How did one explain the Force to someone else without telling that said person that you used the Dark Side? It was already hard to think about it, but talking about it was worse. The possibility that his former Master could've died played through his mind…

It was a scary possibility that didn't happen. He didn't know how he'd feel if Qui-Gon did die.

The Chancellor observed him carefully, his eyes narrowing as he took in his expression. "I'm not sure I understand, Master Jedi."

You wouldn't, he thought with a sneer. He shook off the thought and forced a smile. "I got in tune with the Force. I'm afraid I can't explain beyond that, Chancellor."

"Ah, well, I understand." The older man loaded the information on the screen, downloading onto a drive that could be plugged into a datapad. "All the information on Dathomir has been transferred to you. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Obi-Wan said, nodding at him. "I will, if I should need it again."

Without another word, Kenobi turned on his heel and left the room as quickly as he could, and unseen by him and Quinlan, the Chancellor was darkly smirking. He walked down the halls in long strides, ignoring the Kiffar calling his name. When he got outside to the landing pad, he abruptly stopped, causing Quinlan to ram into him.

"Obi-Wan!" Vos gripped his shoulder and turned him around. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine." The Knight glared at him, jabbing a finger into the man's chest. "Would you just go away! You're a distraction to my mission and you're annoying."

"Woah." The Kiffar raised his hands defensively. "What has gotten into you?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all," Kenobi snapped, gesturing to the speeder they arrived on. "Get in. I'm going to take you to the Temple, and you're going to stay there. Away from me."

Two strong hands gripped either side of his shoulders in a firm hold. Dark eyes bore deeply into his own, concerned. "Obi-Wan. What is going on? Why did the Chancellor's words get you riled up this badly? What happened in the fight?"

His anger flared, and for a moment, he briefly considered punching Quinlan in the face. Instead, he sagged and looked away. "There is no emotion, there is peace."

"Really?" Vos didn't look impressed in the slightest. "Reciting the Code? After all that? Obi, I can sense there's something wrong. What happened?"

"Don't call me that," he snapped, surprising himself at the sharpness of his tone. Only Satine was allowed to call him that, not anybody else. Looking at the Kiffar's slightly hurt features, he winced. "I'm sorry. I… just… I suppose the fight with the Sith affected me more than I thought."

"You can say that again."

"Not helping." He glared at him, crossing his arms. "I just need some sleep and meditation. That's all."

Quinlan stared at him for a long moment before he nodded, releasing him. "If you want to talk to me, you can."

"As if." He scoffed, heading over the speeder.

The Master chased him. "I'm being serious."

"When are you ever serious, Vos?" He hopped in the driver's seat, placing his hands on the yoke and preparing to take off, whether Quinlan was in the speeder or not.

"Right now." The Kiffar climbed into the seat next to him. "Look, that 'release it into the Force stuff' doesn't really work, I think. It's always there, but it helps to have someone to talk to."

Obi-Wan stared at the evening Coruscanti traffic. "I suppose you're also bad at meditating?"

"Hey!" the Kiffar exclaimed, mock offended. "I'm pretty good at sitting around and doing nothing. I hate it though."

"Jedi aren't supposed to hate."

Quinlan grinned. "Intensely dislike then."

The Jedi Knight rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

"You know, my offer for a drink is still on the table…" he suggested slyly.

"No." Obi-Wan didn't wait for Quinlan to secure himself and powered the engines, thrusting the accelerator forward. Some part of him enjoyed the Kiffar's panicked cries as he fumbled to put his seatbelt on lest he fly out of the speeder.

Kenobi took a breath, concentrating on the traffic as he merged into one of the speeder lanes. His attention drifted to the Sith's lightsaber on his belt, the corrupted kyber crystal inside beating like a twisted, yet melodic, heartbeat in the Force. It called to him, but he pushed its whispers aside.

Focus on the mission. But then again, was taming the ever-growing connection to the Dark Side apart of his mission? If any Jedi found out what he did during that fight…

He would lose any chance of becoming a Jedi Master, something he dreamed of since he was a child. Taking another calming breath, he repeated the Code to himself, trying to block out the claws of ice that sunk ever deeper inside him.

This one was fun to write, hope you guys enjoyed :)