Jedi Council Report 16112345
Security Level: Classification V
Source Verifications: Nejaa Halcyon, Obi-Wan Kenobi
Report Approved: Jedi High Council
Skywalker's Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, suggested that his Padawan has faced the equivalent of the trials in action and should be promoted. With one notable exception, the Council agreed with Kenobi's assessment. The lack of a direct equivalent for the Trial of the Spirit was a topic of considerable debate, as was Skywalker's continued predilection for unorthodox methods, disobedience, and recklessness. However, it is the judgment of majority that in this time of war Skywalker's heroism and daring during the Battle of Praesitlyn warrants his advancement. The High Council therefore recommends the advancement of Anakin Skywalker to Knight of the Republic.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Chapter 1
Obi-Wan woke to the sound of a soft, insistent chime. Rising from his bed, he slipped on his robe and answered the door. The cane and blue-black robe of the Jedi before him were instantly recognizable.
"Master Tholme, how can I assist you?"
"I am sorry to disturb you, Obi-Wan," Tholme said as he drew down his hood. "The Council requests your presence."
"Of course." Obi-Wan stepped to the side to allow Tholme to enter. "Come in. I'll only be a moment."
Tholme nodded and stepped inside the small room. The quarters of most Jedi were spartan and austere, but not Obi-Wan's. The small desk on one side of the living area was heaped with spare parts, and small droids of various configurations were perched along almost every ledge.
"Please excuse my former Padawan's clutter," Obi-Wan said as he pulled a clean set of clothing from a small closet. "Anakin likes to tinker as a form of meditation. Due to recent assignments, he's not had time to procure his own quarters, much less remove the mess."
"Why not pack it for him?"
Obi-Wan laughed. "And when, Master Tholme, will I find the time to do that? While aboard ship on the way to some distant battle? Or perhaps while I am stuck in the muck during a planetary siege?"
"Point taken."
"I suppose I should give this room over to him and request another, but I shared this space with Qui-Gon and, well . . ." Obi-Wan sighed and shrugged.
Tholme turned toward the other desk as Obi-Wan dressed. It was tidy, clean, and devoid of droid parts. Two datapads, a hand-held holotransmitter, and a small nerf-hide pouch tied shut with a white cord spoke of recent use. "You know, Obi-Wan, it seems only yesterday you were Qui-Gon's Padawan and Quinlan mine. Now your own Padawan has become a great Knight. Qui-Gon would be very proud, I think."
"I am not so sure of that, Master Tholme," Obi-Wan replied, with a grin as he sat down to pull on his boots. "After all, pride is unbecoming in a Jedi."
Tholme laughed. "True! But we both know Qui-Gon was never conventional."
"In that, you often remind me of him. That, and your hair." Obi-Wan stood up and headed for the 'fresher.
Tholme tucked his hands in the sleeves of his robe and waited for Obi-Wan to return. In a matter of moments they were exiting the room and moving for the turbolift.
"I was very sorry to hear about Quinlan," Obi-Wan offered. "I cannot believe he is lost to the dark. You must have hope, Master. He returned to us once before, I am certain he will do so again."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but Quinlan has chosen his path. As must we all." Tholme looked at Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan, I hope you will not find this presumptuous, but I have followed your development with watchful eyes since Qui-Gon's death. He was a good friend to me, a brother as you have been to Quinlan, and I felt it a duty to support you in what quiet ways I could." The turbolift arrived and the pair boarded. "You lost your Master, Obi-Wan, and I lost my Padawan. We have both lost good friends in this war. I hope we can find strength and support in one another during the difficult times ahead; that should you ever wish counsel, or have need to talk, you will come to me."
Obi-Wan dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Thank you."
The lift stopped a floor below the High Council Chamber at the Hall of Knighthood. Obi-Wan turned to Tholme, confused. "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," Tholme replied with a smile. "You have always underestimated your worth and capabilities, Obi-Wan. It is both your great strength and your great weakness. It is also one of the many reasons you are summoned here to take your place among the Masters of the Order and become a member of the High Council."
Obi-Wan looked dazed.
Tholme placed a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I told you, Qui-Gon would be proud."
"But I . . ."
"Come, brother, we must not keep them waiting."
~~~~~~~~~
"My Lady, a gift has arrived."
Tia Organa looked up from her datapad and let out an impatient sigh. "Send it in."
A procession of six BD-3000 protocol droids filed through the door of Tia's office. Each one carried a magnificent potted blooming rosebush. A seventh protocol unit, a 3PO model with matte black finish, followed at the rear. Tia rose from her chair and moved from behind her desk. She turned to her assistant. "Leave me."
"But, my Lady . . ."
Tia's eyebrow rose. "I said, leave me. Now."
The young woman bowed and scuttled out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Closing her eyes, Tia took deep breaths, inhaling the pungent fragrance of the flowers. The blood-red blooms were a breed nearly extinct in the galaxy, growing on only three planets. After a few moments, she turned to the 3PO unit. "You are part of this gift?"
"Yes, my Lady. I am instructed to obey only your commands and those of my master."
"And your master would be Count Dooku of Serenno, correct?"
"Yes, my Lady."
"Does he send a message with this extravagant gift?"
"My master sends his good wishes for your health and happiness and hopes that the bond of friendship between you has not faded these past years. He desires that I convey his deep respect for you and that I communicate his hope for a meeting to renew your former closeness and to discuss matters beneficial to you both."
"A dangerous proposition." Tia tilted her head to one side. "Where would this meeting take place?"
"My master apologizes that he cannot come to you in person and begs your forgiveness that he must request you meet him on Empress Teta in the Deep Core. Suitable accommodations have already been reserved for your royal highness, and the ship that brought me to you stands ready should you wish to join him there."
"And if I do not wish it?"
"Then I am in your service until you dismiss me."
Tia turned from the droid and focused on the nearest rosebush, running her fingers over the petals as she considered the offer. "What is your designation?"
"It pleases my master to call me Kage, my Lady."
"Kage," she said without turning, "you will leave this room and wait outside for further instruction."
"Yes, my Lady."
When the door closed she addressed the remaining droids. "All of you are to say nothing of what occurred in this room. Report to the Master Gardener at the palace and tell him I want these bushes placed in the garden at my private residence outside Aldera."
The identical blue and silver BD-3000 models turned as one and, without speaking, executed the command.
Moving to the transparisteel window, Tia looked out over the city. The stately blue and white spires of the capital reflected the water and white-capped mountains of the nearby landscape. A finger absently rubbed her bottom lip. "Why now?" she whispered. "What is it you want, Count?"
A chime sounded. "Enter."
"My Lady, your next appointment has arrived."
Tia turned on her heel, her floor-length braid whipping behind her. "Make an apology and reschedule the meeting. In fact, clear my calendar for the next week."
The young woman looked stunned. "But the session of the Council of Elders will convene in --"
"I am well aware of the Council of Elders," Tia snapped. "The Queen will simply have to handle the situation on her own. Tell anyone who asks that I have been called away on urgent personal business and will be unreachable until my return. Is this clear?"
"Yes, my Lady." She dropped into a low, subservient curtsey. "Is there anything else you require?"
Tia didn't respond. She strode out of the office and called out behind her, "Kage, attend to me. We are leaving. "
~~~~~~~~~
Obi-Wan dropped onto his bed with a sigh. He was exhausted. Nearly two days without sleep, and none of it due to battle. At least not the kind he was used to anyway. Though the weapons were words instead of lightsabers, the murky waters of politics were most certainly a battlefront. Before the war he had often been involved in diplomatic negotiations, but never imagined meetings and discussion could take so much time and energy while accomplishing so little. In addition to the massive amounts of reading required to get up to speed on High Council issues he had, heretofore, not been privy to; there were strategy meetings to discuss battle tactics with the generals below him, meetings with the Supreme Chancellor to keep him informed of their progress, meetings with HoloNet press for public relations purposes, and meetings with the Senate Security Council and Intelligence Oversight Committees to brief that august body of current troop status and any known threats to Republic security.
He was surprised he didn't have a splitting headache.
The Security Council briefing had been his own fault. He volunteered for that duty. It was also one of the few bright points in his hectic schedule. Bail and Padme were both ranking members of the Security Council, and Bail was Chair of Intelligence Oversight. Though he had no time for idle conversation, it had been good to at least see them both.
It was particularly good to see Bail. Since their brief and emotional meeting at Dexter's, Obi-Wan had been shipped from one war zone to the next in rapid succession. The few days he had managed on Coruscant since then were either spent in the Halls of Healing or preparing for the next mission. When he finally did have a moment to himself, he tried contacting Bail's office only to be told the Senator was off-planet. After much internal debate, he began writing Bail short letters. For security reasons he couldn't mention much about where he was or what he was doing, but he felt if there was to be any hope of friendship between them that he had to begin somewhere. He was careful in his selection of topics, and not to send too many. It wouldn't do to imply romantic intent, or to place stress on Bail's marriage with his overtures. No matter how much he might long for the closeness they had once shared, both physical and emotional, Obi-Wan had integrity. He was determined to give the man whatever space he needed. Still, there were nights when the memory of holding Bail in his arms made him ache.
This was one of those nights.
Obi-Wan ignored the impulse to reverie. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and let sleep take him.
The dream began almost immediately. He stood in the middle of a blizzard, exposed to the elements, with his lightsaber ignited before him. Snowflakes lashed his skin and sizzled as they struck the blade. The wind howled, blowing his cloak away from his cold body. In the dream he stretched out with the Force, trying to ascertain the nature of the threat and was confronted with feelings of panic, fear, and despair. Obi-Wan's conscious self recognized the moment as memory. This had happened to him in the past. This was Rhen Var. Rhen Var where Bail Organa nearly died.
His dream self turned in the direction where the shelter should have been and went to check on the Senator from Alderaan. As he moved, the snow beneath his feet gave way and he tumbled through a void. After what seemed a very long time, he sank into dank, cold water. He pulled his aquata breather from his belt and placed it in his mouth. Attempting to orient himself in the murk proved futile, so he gave up and waited for the current to take him where it would. In no time he washed up near an outcropping of rock. He placed the aquata breather back in his belt pouch and began the ascent. Before long, he reached a fissure and crawled inside. The fissure changed from rough brown and black rock to smooth, sterile walls of white duracrete and silver alloy. When he stepped through a doorway and onto an observation platform, the location registered. This was Kamino, and before him spread the gestation tanks where thousands of clones were grown instead of born.
He turned back toward the doorway, but the scene around him continued to spin. When it stopped, he recognized where he was -- Naboo, trapped between laser shields as Qui-Gon battled the Sith. He could feel frustration, impatience, and anger as he had the day of the fight. When his Master fell, he shouted. The room began to shake and break apart. Chunks of walls and ceiling began to fall and he heard the clack and whine of droidekas. Obi-Wan weaved his way between obstacles, trying desperately to deflect blaster fire. Finally, a hole opened in the ceiling exposing blue sky above. He jumped for it; reaching for the Force and feeling himself soar into the light.
Landing brought another shift. He stood alone on a deck in the midst of a great forest. Rain fell, drenching him through. Another memory: Halbara. But where was Bail? He moved across the deck, through a door, and into the living quarters. Bail lay in his bed, swaddled in blankets and hooked to a monitor and plasma filtration unit. Obi-Wan moved to the bedside and reached to brush Bail's sweat-damp hair from his face, but the scene dissolved. Instead his hand touched black metal. He found himself standing, mid-air, on a narrow grate next to the control panel for some kind of generator. One wrong move and he would fall. Five clones came through a nearby doorway and he paused. Unsure what to think in this strange environment, he played it safe and threw out a Force suggestion. As the troopers turned to investigate the imaginary noise, Obi-Wan crept around the other side of the generator and out into the hallway.
He moved through an archway and into blinding light. A light breeze rustled tall grass that stretched out as far as he could see. The scene was punctuated only by the presence of huge petrified mounds. Castle Lands on Alderaan. Obi-Wan smiled and searched the field for the campsite where Bail would be waiting. He saw smoke in the distance and took off at a run, eager to see his lover. As he ran, the scene changed again. Twin suns above and parched rock beneath his feet told Obi-Wan this was Tatooine. He searched the landscape and saw a small building with a moisture trap ahead. A figure wearing a brown cloak waited near the door of the house. Obi-Wan moved forward, curious. As he drew closer he noticed human hands and brown nerf-hide boots. Realization dawned.
"Master?"
Obi-Wan jolted awake, heart hammering against the cage of his bones. What did the dream mean? There was no doubt it meant something. Dreams such as these, for him, were never random; they were portents, warnings, signs from the Force. Many of the images were memories, but some were not. Why show him Qui-Gon? Was Bail in danger? Why had he been on a ledge next to a generator? What was the common thread? Did it have something to do with Cearialis' Bane? There had been no time to request data from either the Temple healers or from the medical center in Aldera. Was this a warning that time was running out?
His comm chimed. Obi-Wan slid out of bed and activated the unit.
"Kenobi."
The voice of Mace Windu filled the room. "Obi-Wan, we've received a request from the Intergalactic Zoological Society to check on a missing vessel, the Titavian IV. It was due to rendezvous with the fleet at Mycroft twelve standard hours ago, and they are unable to raise her on comm. Their last known position is not far from Rendili. Since you are due to join Master Koon's attempt to resolve the standoff with the home defense fleet in the system, could you do a quick survey?"
Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. "Of course, Master Windu. Send me the coordinates. I will leave within the hour."
~~~~~~~~~
Anakin hurried through the halls of the Senate building toward the landing deck, the small holoprojection unit in his tunic. He was frustrated to find his wife gone -- home on Naboo instead of on Coruscant -- when he finally had time to see her. At least she had left him a message. However, thanks to new security measures, he didn't dare watch the message from Padme in this building where it was sure to be recorded. He would have to go somewhere private, somewhere the spy drones wouldn't be. Perhaps the old industrial sector. No one went there anymore -- at least no one on the grid.
"Anakin, my boy!"
He turned and tried to hide a frown. "Chancellor."
"How unexpected to find you here! I was just on my way to my office." Palpatine spread his arms wide in welcome before clapping his hands to Anakin's shoulders. "I understand you've achieved a great victory!"
Anakin dipped his head, somewhat embarrassed by the Chancellor's effusive greeting. "Master Koon led the mission, sir. I just did a little shooting, that's all."
"Modest. Always so modest." Palpatine turned, guiding Anakin toward a sheltered balcony. Red-robed guards moved into formation around them. "You really must take more credit for your accomplishments. I read the report. It was you who suggested using concussion charges to cripple the Rendili fleet, was it not?"
"Well . . ."
"You see! Your quick thinking not only saved lives but also made the salvage of valuable starships possible. You really have done superb work, Anakin. Far better than I could have hoped."
"You're too generous, Supreme Chancellor."
"Nonsense. And I nearly forgot the capture of the renegade Quinlan Vos!"
"I'm grateful for your kind words, but I didn't do any of it alone. Especially not Quinlan. That was . . ."
"Oh yes, yes. Master Kenobi assisted if I recall." Palpatine waived a hand in dismissal. "I wonder if your fellow Jedi realize what I so clearly perceive -- what a great Jedi you have become. If you were in charge, I dare say this war would soon be over."
Anakin blushed.
Palpatine smiled and put a hand to Anakin's shoulder, steering him back toward the landing deck. "You seemed rather in a hurry when I saw you. I hope our talk hasn't made you late for a debriefing."
"Not at all, Chancellor."
"Just remember, Anakin, I will always look out for your interests and be your true friend. Whenever you need anything, you have but to ask."
"Thank you, Chancellor."
Anakin watched as Palpatine and his guards turned and moved deeper into the building. Once they were out of sight, he jogged to his speeder and hopped into the cockpit. It had been months since he last saw Padme, and he missed her so much. He fired up the engine and shot toward the derelict Works where he could hear his wife's message in private.
~~~~~~~~~
Tia sat in front of a dressing table, a gold-plated brush in her hand. The gossamer fabric of her shimmersilk robe was so translucent she might well have been wearing nothing at all. She pulled the brush through a parted section of her long black hair in even strokes, appraising the image in the mirror. Fine lines had begun to etch her face in recent years. Gravity and time ensured her figure was not as firm as in her youth. Still, she had taken good care of herself. And, thanks to a lack of grey hair, no one would guess her to be fifty-five.
Dooku took the brush from her hand and placed it on the table. He pulled Tia's hair to one side and bent to place a kiss on her shoulder. "As lovely as ever, my dear."
She looked at Dooku's reflection in the mirror. "From anyone else, I would call that a lie."
"But you know I would never lie to you."
Tia turned on the tufted bench. "True, you wouldn't lie, but you would manipulate me for your own advantage."
"Yes, I would."
"Is this tryst only manipulation?"
He cupped her face with one hand and brushed his thumb against her lower lip. "No."
Tia slipped her hands to Dooku's hips. "You told me once you were not your own master, that your goals were more important than your feelings for me. Has this changed?"
"The war will soon be over and the Republic will give way to a new order in the galaxy. When that day comes, I will be released from certain obligations."
"Only certain obligations?"
Dooku raised an eyebrow in question. "We have never made one another promises."
"True." Tia stood up. "My participation in any plan of yours will occur with or without a seduction play. Why not tell me what you want so we can enjoy our time together instead of sullying it with tawdry implications."
"You are a formidable woman!" Dooku threw back his head and laughed. "It is one of your many qualities I find so attractive."
"Tell me what you want."
Dooku smiled. He took Tia's hand and pulled her toward the bed. "I want you to allow Kage to remain in your service, and I want you to send me your brother's medical records along with a sample of his blood."
"Again, interest in my brother. If I were the jealous type I might find this obsession with Bail unnerving."
"Your brother is idealistic," Dooku said with a shrug. "When the time arrives he may choose the wrong side. I simply hope to help the people of Alderaan by ensuring the government will be amenable."
Tia shrugged off her robe and let it fall to the floor. "That explains the desire for a spy in the Royal Family, but not a need for my brother's medical history."
"I have a theory to prove." Dooku pulled Tia into his arms. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Your brother has some unique, shall we say, abilities. I want to discover the source of those abilities."
Tia placed a staying hand on Dooku's chest. "To do what you ask, I must have your word that you will not harm Bail. He is, after all, my brother."
"No harm will come to Bail Organa by my hand."
"In that case, our business is concluded." Tia smiled and pushed Dooku back onto the bed. "Shall we dance?"
~~~~~~~~~
"Abandon his duties Obi-Wan should not." Yoda thumped his gimer stick on the floor. "Obsessed with this Ventress he is!"
Master Yoda paced his quarters, a sign of the depth of his concern. Mace Windu sat on one of the meditation pads, his stern face shadowed with worry. The events of the recent High Council meeting were fresh in their minds.
"In someone else, I might think this motivated by revenge. However, this is Kenobi, and I sensed no anger in him. He is convinced Ventress is still alive and determined to find her no matter the cost."
"Disturbing is this turn of events. Keen will be his loss to our troops and to the Council."
"What choice do we have? To let him go renegade?" Mace spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "He made it clear that if we forbade him, he would do it anyway."
Yoda finally settled on a pad. "What news of young Skywalker?"
"I have spoken to Master Vokara Che. There will be a scar on his face, but the eye was not damaged. She suggests a few days of leave before we send him back to the front to be sure he is fully healed and there is no residual trauma."
"And still the clones do not Ventress' body find?"
"No. There is no sign."
"Hm." Yoda sighed, his ears twitching. "A mystery within a mystery, I sense. Trust, we must, in Obi-Wan and in the Force."
"Does this mean you have changed your mind? Will we give him the ship he requested?"
"A ship he shall not receive. If right he is, a way Obi-Wan will find."
Mace stood up. "I will notify Skywalker of his leave."
"Notify also the generals in the field of Skywalker and Kenobi's absence. Help Obi-Wan may request, but limited it shall be. On a sanctioned mission he is not!"
"I understand, Master. I will make it clear our forces and agents are not to be compromised for a wild Bantha chase."
"Scattered our best Jedi become, far from help and support in the Outer Rim." Yoda shook his head. "Protect Kenobi we must, but others we must protect also."
"And what if he is right?"
"Regular reports Kenobi has promised. If facts he finds instead of rumor, then reconsider its position, the Council will."
Mace nodded his agreement. "May the Force be with you, Master."
"Hm. Yes. May the Force be with us all."
~~~~~~~~~
"Pardon me, Senator. There is a Jedi to see you."
Bail's eyebrows went up. He stood and moved from behind his desk, tugging at his jacket to straighten it out. "All right. Send them in."
The expression of surprise heightened when Obi-Wan came through the door. "Master Kenobi."
Obi-Wan bowed his head in deference. "Senator."
Bail blinked, hesitating until the door closed behind his aide. "This is a surprise."
The moment stretched out as Obi-Wan continued to stand there. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, eyes darting around the room. To someone else Obi-Wan might have seemed stoic and observant, but Bail knew better. Years of constant contact and intimate nights gave him insight into the nuances of this particular Jedi's body language. Obi-Wan was uncomfortable, nervous even, and Bail was certain he knew at least part of the reason why. The last time Obi-Wan had come to this office, he mind tricked his way past the guards and aides, manipulated a Senator of the Republic, and attacked Bail's Chief of Security; unpleasant memories for them both.
Obi-Wan finally spoke again. "I shouldn't have come."
Bail moved slowly, not out of fear but out of empathy. He wanted to try to put Obi-Wan at ease. "Well, you did, and you're here, so why don't you sit down? I'll get you something to drink, we'll talk, and you'll tell me why you came."
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed but he nodded his agreement. Bail watched him move toward the small seating area to the left of the desk. Instead of calling for the service droid, he went to get the drinks himself. Though he would have preferred brandy to bolster his nerves, he poured two glasses of water. Drinking in this situation wasn't wise, and Obi-Wan tended to imbibe only when required by social occasions. He crossed the room, placed his glass on the occasional table, and handed the other to Obi-Wan. The Jedi took a drink and Bail settled in a chair across from the settee.
Awkward silence followed. Bail covered repressed emotion with formality and pleasantries. "I understand Anakin has been made a Knight. After all the lost sleep, and worrying that you weren't the right Master for him, it must be a relief to see him doing so well."
"I suppose it is." Obi-Wan put down the glass. "He is still young, and has much to learn, but with time and patience I think he will be the best of us."
"And you're a member of the High Council now. I think Master Jinn would be gratified to see the man you've become."
"Thank you, though I'm afraid I am still somewhat overwhelmed by my new duties. As you know, politics was never my favorite subject."
"And yet the Holonet calls you 'The Negotiator.' Perhaps you underestimate your ability."
"A colleague recently said something similar." Obi-Wan clasped his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and eyes on the carpet. "Bail, should I stop sending the letters?"
"What?"
"The letters. You never respond."
Bail tilted his head, completely stunned. "This is why you came here?"
"I'm sorry. This was a mistake." Obi-Wan stood up. "I'll be on my way."
"Oh no, you don't!" Bail thrust an angry finger at the settee. "Sit down. I don't know what's going on, but you don't get to do this. You don't get to walk in my office after all these years, act cryptic, and walk out without an explanation, Master Jedi, so plant yourself back in that seat before I do it for you."
Obi-Wan dropped onto the settee in a reflexive motion, his back ramrod straight and face devoid of expression.
Bail leaned back in his chair and pressed both hands against his face trying to push away the beginning of a headache, his only thought that he should have poured himself the brandy. Finally, he sighed, placed his hands on his knees, and looked Obi-Wan in the eyes.
"I don't respond to the letters because I don't know what to write about. Security limits what I can say about the war, or the Senate, or politics on Alderaan. And, call me crazy, but I didn't think you'd be interested in anecdotes about my wife."
"You don't go fishing anymore?"
"No. What with my responsibilities, and the war, there's no time for things like that now."
"What about the theater? The opera? You used to love to go to the performances."
Bail shook his head. "I still go sometimes, but it's mostly see and be seen; an opportunity to reinforce political relationships and do off-the-book negotiations."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Obi-Wan looked down at the table. "You were always so social and vibrant, enjoyed going out so much. I used to feel guilty that being with me meant you had to stay in so often."
"Even then, a lot of what I did had more to do with projecting an image than my own enjoyment, Obi-Wan. I loved the quiet times alone with you. They were some of the best moments of my life." Bail felt tears well and blinked them away. "I thought you knew that."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, nearly flinching at Bail's words.
"What did you really come here for? Whatever it is, just say it."
The response was almost a whisper. "I need a ship."
"What?"
"I said, I need a ship."
Bail leaned forward in his chair. "Why not get one from the Temple hangar bay?"
Obi-Wan shifted in his seat. "The Council has refused to sanction my mission."
"And what mission would that be exactly?"
"I intend to find Asajj Ventress and bring her to justice."
"I don't understand. There was a classified report sent to the Intelligence Oversight Committee this morning. It stated Anakin killed Ventress in an altercation in the industrial sector yesterday. Are you telling me the Jedi Council is giving the Senate false information? Because, if they are . . ."
"She's alive! I know it!" Obi-Wan stood up and started pacing. "That woman is a danger to the Order and the Republic. She must not be allowed to roam the galaxy hunting Jedi and creating mayhem!"
Bail gaped at Obi-Wan's outburst. "Let me be sure I have this right. Your former Padawan reports he killed the woman who captured you and tortured you for three weeks, and your response is to insist she is still alive. Not only that, but after you put this theory of yours to your fellow Council members, and they refuse to believe you, you assign yourself the mission of finding her against the advice of your peers. Then you come to me and think that our past means you can pull my strings and get me to give you what you want when they wouldn't?"
Obi-Wan rounded on him. "Bail, they didn't find a body!"
"So, obviously, she must be alive!"
"Exactly!"
Bail got up from his chair. "Master Kenobi, I think you were right. It was a mistake for you to come here."
"Bail . . ."
"No." Bail put up a hand. "Unlike your Council, I've seen you angry and I know what it does to you. I will not help you pursue some insane personal vendetta!"
"This is not about vengeance or retaliation, it's about . . ."
"I don't want to hear your justifications. Go."
"All right." Obi-Wan gathered his cloak around him and pulled up the hood. "But you're wrong, Bail. All of you are wrong. She's out there, and I'm going find her."
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Chapter 2
Bail stood next to Mon Mothma and Giddean Danu in the Jedi High Council chamber, quiet observers. In the months since the massacre on Jabiim and the explosion of The Star of Iskin, there had been many such visits. Yoda and Mace Windu would contact Bail's office to suggest that the Senate might have interest in the issues at this meeting or that briefing. Often they would recommend he bring a colleague on the Security Council, Appropriations Committee, or Military Oversight Board. He chose his companions for these visits carefully, using them as a gauge of potential allies.
To date, he and Mon Mothma had found over a thousand Senators who could be counted on for the political movement in the Senate. Compared to the supermajority, it was a miniscule number. Still, they had to start somewhere.
Movement with regard to bringing the Separatists to the negotiation table was slow. Garm was using a network of Corellian smugglers to slip messages to two key individuals. Cat Miin of the Commerce Guild was the first target. As assistant to President Shu Mai, she was perfectly placed to act as a go-between. She was also a Gossam; a race almost as notorious as the Neimoidians for their devotion to personal gain. Should Shu Mai fall, or be removed from power, Cat Miin would step into the Presidency, giving her motive to, at the least, play both sides for her own advantage. The other target was the Quarren, Tikkes. Civil war on Dac, instigated by the former Senator's defection to the Separatist cause, had decimated Quarren and Mon Calamari alike and wreaked havoc on production at the Mon Calamari shipyards. Tikkes had been the focus of corruption and slave trade investigations, and Garm was certain an offer of amnesty could pull the Quarren Isolation League away from the Confederation of Independent Systems. Bail wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea, but if such a deal was what it took to stop a war, he must find a way to come to terms with it.
The updates on current field operations finished. Separatist forces had been routed from most of their strongholds and were now fleeing to the Outer Rim where they harassed vulnerable, undefended worlds. The meeting was about to adjourn when a relayed holoconnection from Obi-Wan Kenobi was patched in. His image looked atrocious; cloak in tatters, burn marks and smudges that could only be blood covered the armor he wore.
"Following a lead, I arrived on New Coronet. After making contact with General Secura, I infiltrated a Black Sun hideout. While the leader, Xist, did not confirm my suspicions with regard to Commander Ventress, he told me of a plot by the Confederacy to kill a Corellian merchant by the name of Drama Kor. Dooku is reputed to be sending his best assassin to ambush Kor's ship when it comes out of hyperspace. I have been given the coordinates of this ambush. I am requesting backup before proceeding."
The Masters looked at one another. Ki-Adi-Mundi's hologram responded.
"Master Kenobi, we can't spare any additional resources. Nearly every available Jedi is being diverted to the Outer Rim. You and Anakin have been allowed a brief respite only because you've been on the front lines for nearly a year, but you'll be needed soon. I suggest you rest."
Yoda's ears twitched. The old Master looked concerned. "Committed to your search you remain, Obi-Wan?"
Bail frowned, anxious at this turn of events. Obi-Wan had come to him for help. Had he been wrong to reject the mission out of turn? Was there more to Obi-Wan's search than vendetta? Had he made a mistake? He knew the tense undertone he heard in Obi-Wan's voice. The Jedi was injured, in over his head, and looking for help. Why were his fellows refusing to assist?
"Yes, Master Yoda. She's still alive. I can sense it. And I can bring her to justice. If I don't act, she could destroy entire armies, wipe out entire worlds . . ."
"We're well aware of the threat posed by Ventress," Mace Windu interrupted. "You will be permitted to continue your mission, but be careful, Obi-Wan. This is a small quest in a life filled with important journeys. May the Force be with you."
Connections were severed and the Masters attending the meeting via holo winked out. Giddean Danu and Mon Mothma exited the room together, talking in respectful whispers. Bail was about to follow when he felt the tap of a gimer stick on his leg.
"A moment, Senator, if you would."
Bail turned, nodding in respect. "Of course, Master Yoda."
"Concerned, we are, by Separatist actions in the Outer Rim. Rich in resources, yet unprotected, are these worlds."
Master Windu joined them. "Our forces have captured several Separatist strongholds, but a large percentage of their troops and ships remain unaccounted for. We suspect they are consolidating somewhere, gaining a foothold in the outer regions and building new supply lines."
"The viper coils upon itself, then strikes when threatened." Yoda pointed a gnarled claw in Bail's direction. "Dooku, a master strategist is he. A survey of the Outer Rim we must make to ensure the safety of the Core."
"I agree." Bail frowned. "If the Separatists are regrouping for an offensive, we need to gather intelligence."
"I am glad to hear you say that, Senator." Mace tucked his hands in his sleeves. "We would like you to come with us to see the Chancellor. He seems disinclined to listen to our advice regarding this issue."
"Why me, Master Windu? Surely there are others better able to . . ."
Yoda leaned on his gimer stick. "Impeccable your reputation is. The ear of the Chancellor you hold. If request a ship to personally conduct a survey, you do, he cannot refuse."
"Masters, I can't do such a thing by myself. I am only a Senator."
"You won't have to." Mace tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "And, should we happen to find ourselves near the Karthakk system in a few days' time, perhaps we'll check on General Kenobi's progress."
Suddenly it all became clear. They wanted to help Obi-Wan, they believed in him, but couldn't spare the ships. Thanks to the additional powers granted to Palpatine, they couldn?t allocate resources without his approval and, apparently, he wasn't inclined to let them move any. Their hands were tied.
He should have trusted Obi-Wan that day in his office. Suspicion and the past reared their ugly heads and he wouldn't even listen. Time to correct that mistake.
Bail nodded his head. "All right. Let's go to the Chancellor and get ourselves a ship."
~~~~~~~~~
Ten days. In these days of war, ten days might as well be a lifetime. Two were already gone.
Anakin took a deep breath, smelling water and salt in the air, the green tang of leaves and the rich sweetness of flowers in bloom. Here at this secluded villa, they could hide from the rest of the galaxy and pretend they were a normal married couple instead of Senator and Jedi. He slipped, barefoot, across the stone terrace to look out over the water. Even now, all these years later, the sight of so much standing water was surprising. Tatooine was a desolate place where water was reclaimed, recycled, and horded in underground cisterns. It would be so easy to live on a planet as lovely and resource-rich as this one.
Padme came to join him and they took their place at the table. C-3PO followed close behind with a tray, and set out the meal. It was their ritual to eat breakfast on the terrace, though one they did far too infrequently in Anakin's estimation. What would it be like, he wondered, to live here on Naboo? To leave the Jedi and raise a family? When the war was over -- when Grievous and the Separatists were finally brought to justice; when the Sith were found and defeated -- they could start a new chapter in their lives. Padme could retire from public life. Maybe he would open a little shop and fix droids like he did when he was young.
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Padme reached a hand across the table, the pale blue fabric of her nightgown shimmering in the sunlight. "The war, I mean."
"Not really. Only a little"
Padme rose from her chair and went to stand behind him. She placed her hands on his shoulders, kneading at the tension she found there. "I thought you'd be restless here, wanting to go back to it."
"Me too. But, now that I'm here with you -- " Anakin brushed his durasteel hand against the hilt of his lightsaber where it lay on the table. "A part of me never wants to pick up my lightsaber again."
"You don't mean that. You might be my husband, but you'll always be a Jedi Knight first."
Anakin placed his good hand over hers. The feel of her skin grounded him; made him feel whole. "Not when this war is over." He turned his head and looked into her eyes. "Palpatine will bring peace and I can live here with you."
Padme frowned. She looked sad. "Isn't that a little na?ve? I know you believe in Palpatine, but he's just one man. Thousands of worlds are in turmoil."
"They'll fall in line --" Anakin's other hand clenched his lightsaber "-- once the Confederacy has been crushed."
"I'm not so sure."
The wind picked up, ripping leaves from the trees. They whirled overhead and across the terrace. The peaceful sounds of lapping water and morning bird calls were replaced by the rumble and whine of maneuvering thrusters. Cheerful sunshine was blotted out by a starfighter-shaped shadow.
"Oh no." Anakin felt his heart drop into his stomach as the blue and silver light interceptor extended its landing gear and settled in the nearby garden. "That's not his fighter, but that has to be Obi-Wan."
Padme hurriedly drew her robe closed. "I guess your leave is over, and our secret is out."
Obi-Wan popped the hatch and hopped down. "Anakin, Senator." He nodded toward them both. "Sorry to interrupt your breakfast."
Anakin put an arm around his wife. He wasn't sure what would happen now, but he wasn't going to let her go and he wasn't going to leave. "Master, how did you find me?"
"Anakin, every Padawan on Coruscant knows where to find you." The tone was glib, but Obi-Wan's eyes were stern. "I don't care what you do on leave. I'm only here because I need your help."
The cold, hard knot in the pit of his stomach blossomed and became anger. He left Padme's side and moved toward Obi-Wan. "You're still chasing Ventress, aren't you? You're searching for a woman I killed."
"I have evidence . . ."
"No!" Anakin cut him off. "You have rumors and myths! I killed her!"
"Okay, forget Ventress." Obi-Wan shifted into negotiator mode. He reached forward and placed a calming hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Dooku is sending an assassin, his best assassin, to kill a Corellian merchant. I want to stop that murder. Will you help me?"
"No! You can call it a rescue mission, but you're still chasing a ghost!" Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan's hand and roughly brushed it aside. He walked back to his wife, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked in her eyes. "I'm going to focus on the living."
"Anakin," Padme reached up and put a hand to his face to plead on Obi-Wan's behalf. "He needs you."
"Every other Jedi I trust is in the thick of this war," Obi-Wan said. "You are my only option."
Anakin looked back at Obi-Wan. "I'm your last choice? Now I really want to help."
"I just didn't want to take you away from . . ."
"Enough." Padme moved into the space between the two men. "You are both Jedi. You have both sworn an oath to protect the people of the Republic. If there is a murder you can prevent, you must try."
"Okay. Fine. You're right." Anakin crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. He knew he couldn't win against them both. "But I'll have to go to Theed and get my starship. Some of us respect the planet's no-fly zones."
"Good." Obi-Wan turned and walked back to the starfighter. "I'll send you coordinates in the Karthakk system. Meet me there."
Thrusters fired. They burned the grass and destroyed the flowers in the garden. Artoo had rolled out onto the terrace during the conversation; he chirped and whirred as the craft became a speck in the sky.
Anakin pulled his wife into his arms. "Padme, I'm sorry."
"You made the right decision." She clutched him close; her quiet words almost lost in the folds of his blue robe. "I'm just afraid that it will be months before I see you again. If I ever see you again." She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears. "I love you."
He buried his hands in her long, thick hair. "Just remember that --" he whispered against her lips "-- because I'll be back."
Though it was the last thing he wanted, he pulled away and turned toward the villa. It was time to put the heavy mantle of Jedi back on his shoulders. One day, this would all be over. He could come back to Naboo and stay forever. "Artoo, head down to the dock. I'll meet you there."
~~~~~~~~~
The shimmering blue hologram above his desk looked like a doll. Breha stood, hand clasped in front of her, imploring her husband to come home.
"I don't know what to do. Tia's office has no idea where she is or when she will be back, and we can't postpone a meeting of the Council of Elders."
Bail scrubbed a hand through his hair. This was the worst possible timing. What could his sister be thinking? The Minister of Finance couldn't leave without notice.
"And you've tried the private line?"
"Of course I've tried the private line. I've tried for four days, Bail! Do you think I would ask you to come home if I hadn't exhausted every option?"
The Star Destroyer Intervention was waiting, along with Mace Windu, a full complement of clones, and almost every member of the Alderaanian Home Guard currently on the planet. They were set for launch in under an hour.
"Breha, I can't."
"Why not? Your responsibilities to the Senate don't supersede your responsibilities . . ."
"Breha!"
His wife's shocked face made Bail feel terrible. This wasn't her fault. She didn't understand because he hadn't told her about the survey. Aside from the security implications, knowing he was out there in a war zone would upset her and he had wanted to spare her that worry. Now he had no choice.
"I'm sorry. The Chancellor has given me an assignment and I'm about to leave."
"And go where? What are you doing?"
"I asked for this, Breha. The Jedi couldn't spare the forces so I . . ."
"Bail, you can't go to the front line! You can't! What if something happened to you?"
"Enough!" Bail slapped his hand against his desk. "I am aware of the risk, and I take full responsibility. This has to be done, Breha, and it's the only way to make it happen, so you're going to have to deal with the Tia problem on your own."
"Bail, I can't do this . . ."
"The vos you can't! You're Queen of Alderaan, act like it!" He could see the hologram shake and it wasn't from interference. "Call Tia's office and get her staff to brief you. Assign anything you feel uncomfortable with to her deputy. And when Tia returns, tell her she's being formally reprimanded for her absence. I'll let you know when I'm back."
Breha bowed her head. "Please, be careful. Come home to me."
"I will." If she had been there he would have taken her in his arms and tried to comfort her, but he wasn't there, and this was war, and Obi-Wan was out there all alone. "You can do this, Breha. I know you can. And I'll be home soon, I promise."
~~~~~~~~~
It wasn't quite a disaster, but it was close. Far too close for Obi-Wan's liking. Why hadn't he sensed the trap? It was his particular talent, perception of events. Not many Jedi had the gift now, and those who did often found their vision clouded; the veil of the dark side shrouding the Force.
Xist's information was correct, but he neglected to mention the ambush. The target was dead before the ship dropped out of hyperspace. In fact, the entire crew had been slaughtered. It was all a setup, a way to get Obi-Wan onto the bridge and in range of a thermal detonator.
As he was flying through the air -- the heat from the explosion swirling around him, his body barely protected by the Force -- Obi-Wan admitted to himself that being blown up was one of his least favorite ways to be injured. It ranked right up there with lightsaber burns.
That's when things got messy. Durge showed up.
"I'm getting tired of ambushing you, Kenobi," the Gen'Dai said as he slammed Obi-Wan into the floor.
"So am I."
Durge picked him up and threw him across the command deck. "Then let's make sure it doesn't ever happen again."
If he had been on his own, Obi-Wan likely would have been killed. Durge was thousands of years old and highly experienced in fighting Jedi. The times Obi-Wan had faced him in the past he was lucky to run away with his life. Durge's cybernetic battle armor in combination with a distributed vascular and nervous system made the former bounty hunter essentially immortal. Cut off a limb and it reconnected or grew back. Obi-Wan had once gone so far as to blow Durge up only to face him again in battle a month later. It was annoying. Short of vaporizing him, the creature couldn't be killed. Distracting and disabling him long enough to flee was the only viable option.
Anakin sent shrapnel flying across the deck to pummel Durge and then went to help Obi-Wan off the floor.
"We walked right into their trap," Obi-Wan said as he coughed up blood from his singed lungs.
"What did you expect? You've been shaking down every Confederacy thug from Coruscant to Kashyyyk! Dooku knows you're looking for her!"
Obi-Wan wiped the blood away with his sleeve. "You've made your point. Several times. Now let's just get out . . ."
Durge exploded out of the wreckage. He was more than a little unhappy. Blaster bolts started flying and Obi-Wan and Anakin found themselves on the defensive once again. In a desperate move, Obi-Wan severed a main power cable and placed the two live ends to Durge's armor, frying him inside his suit. It stopped the bounty hunter for all of two minutes.
That's when the ship started shaking.
"He's wired the ship with explosives!" Obi-Wan turned and ran for the door. "Anakin, keep him occupied!"
"All right. But where are you going?"
"Durge had to get on this ship somehow and his logs might lead us to Ventress."
"She's DEAD!"
Obi-Wan was really tired of hearing that. "Can you do it or not?"
"Of course I can. I think."
Anakin's words were pointless. Obi-Wan was already gone, flying down the hallway. The ship shook with the force of constant explosions. He slashed his way past battle droids and commed Anakin's Artoo unit for the location of the secondary hangar bay. Soon he was on level six, Durge's ship in front of him. He used the Force to crush the landing gear and his lightsaber to cut a hole in the fuselage. There it stood: a navigator droid sure to have secrets locked inside its brain.
"I think you'll do."
A swift stroke severed the head of the droid. Obi-Wan snatched his prize, exited the useless craft, and flew out of the hangar bay. Another explosion went off, the heat-wash hard on his heels. Sparks singed his robe as he ran through the halls back to Anakin. At this rate, they'd be lucky to make it to their starfighters before the hull lost integrity. And, once they managed to get off the disintegrating ship, there were sure to be vulture droids to face.
Qui-Gon had always said that in his experience there was no such thing as luck. If that was true, all Obi-Wan could do was trust the Force. Right now, however, he had a very bad feeling.
It was shame he couldn't have had it sooner.
~~~~~~~~~
Intervention was a Venator-class Star Destroyer capable of planetfall, with eight dual turbolaser turrets, two medium range turbolaser cannons, fifty-two point defense turbolasers, and four heavy proton torpedo tubes. It could hit a target vessel at a range of two light minutes and could divert nearly all of its reactor power to defensive shields at the flick of a few switches.
Bail paced the command bridge, the hypnotic blue swirl of hyperspace the only indicator of the speed at which he traveled. They were pushing the engines at maximum, but it still wasn't fast enough as far as he was concerned. Not when Obi-Wan was out there pursuing a ghost at the possible cost of his life.
It didn't help that he felt guilty about the argument with Breha. The situation wasn't her fault. When it came down to it, she was right. His first responsibility was to his planet and his people. The semi-annual meeting of the Council of Elders was one of the most important events on the political calendar; one he rarely missed. Ministers put budget requests, new projects, motions, and requested data before the members for authorization this session. Without that authorization, the planetary government would grind to a halt. Inadequate representation of assets or requests could mean cut funding to essential programs or diminished services to rural areas. To make matters worse, the huge influx of refugees from the war -- an influx he had personally authorized -- had been overtaxing the infrastructure for the last two years. He should be there to support his ministers and push through passage of new funding. Breha, while loved by the people and respected as the planet's Minister of Education, was not a political animal. It was not her nature. She didn't have the accrued capital of long-standing relationships that Bail did when it came to situations of this type. Tia was the one he counted on for that kind of thing. His sister had served as a deputy and personal assistant to their father for years, and had strong personal relationships with key members of the Council. As Minister of Finance, her voice was critical. He trusted Tia and she virtually ran the government in his name. For her to disappear at a time like this was inexcusable and completely unlike her.
As it was completely unlike him to go off in a Star Destroyer after his ex-lover.
"You should take a seat, sir. We'll be dropping out of hyperspace soon and it looks like we're coming in hot."
"Of course -- uh --" Bail looked at the clone, confused. "What do I call you?"
"Commander is fine, sir."
"All right, Commander."
Bail moved to an empty seat behind a tactical display and strapped himself in. While he wasn't used to this sort of situation, he had at least a hundred hours clocked in simulations behind displays like this one. They were part of the underground training facility at Cantham House. He looked at the readout. The clone was right, they were coming in hot. Very hot. The forward sensor array couldn't give exact positions, technical data, or situational information when in hyperspace, but it could tell you how many bogies to expect. One very large contact and at least fifty small ones were directly in their flight path.
Klaxons blared alert status over the ship-wide comm. Even through the hyperspace stasis field, Bail could feel the rumble of the engines and hear the whine of turbolasers being primed. A lieutenant at the helm barked the ten-second countdown, and the stream of stars reverted abruptly to realspace. Instead of blackness punctuated by pinpricks of light and the peaceful view of a planetary horizon, they were surrounded by a debris field at least two kilometers wide and the orange and red of explosions.
The commander, headset on, ordered the launch of three squadrons of ARC-170 fighters. He flicked a switch and the ship-wide comm exploded with chatter. The first voice that boomed out of the speakers was Obi-Wan's.
"Alpha? Is that you? Have you been reassigned?"
"Something like that, General. Head for the cruiser. We'll cover you."
Bail felt his heart hammer in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was relief or the adrenaline flush from being in a war zone, but for a moment it was all he could do not to cry.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Chapter 3
Obi-Wan walked onto the command deck and into a pair of unlikely arms. Bail Organa's arms. Pulled into a short-but-fierce embrace, Obi-Wan was momentarily bewildered. What was a Senator, much less pacifist Bail, doing out here in a Star Destroyer?
"Welcome aboard the ~Intervention~. I trust we arrived just in time?"
"Not a second too soon, Senator Organa," Obi-Wan replied. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but why are you here?"
Bail continued to rest a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder as Anakin breezed past, all business.
"We received a distress call from two Jedi generals," Bail said.
Obi-Wan was even more bewildered. "But we didn't send a distress call."
"That's not what we're telling Coruscant." Bail gave a conspiratorial smile. "And I do hear you could use some help."
Bail's demeanor was as surprising as his presence. After their near argument, Bail was the last person Obi-Wan expected to see. He wondered what had happened to change Bail's mind. Had the Council sent Bail out here? It was the only logical conclusion to draw, and yet it seemed so unlikely. "I appreciate the offer, Bail, but you really shouldn't be on the battlefront."
Anakin spoke up from his position behind a comm station. "Just say, 'thank you.'" He slapped the decapitated droid's head on top of the nearest flat surface and popped open the circuit board.
"We need to plan our next move."
Obi-Wan was chagrined by Anakin's admonishment. "Anakin's right," he said. "Thank you."
Bail nodded and turned toward Anakin. The young man already had the droid patched into the tactical display. "So, what is our next move? Are you still looking for Ventress even though Republic spies confirm her death?"
"They're wrong. I know she's alive."
Obi-Wan's insistence didn't elicit so much as a frown from Bail; he simply seemed to take him at his word. For weeks he had searched for Ventress without help or support from anyone, had plunged ahead with an investigation only he believed in when every shred of evidence made it seem -- what had Bail called it? -- little more than the pursuit of a personal vendetta? He had been so alone. To finally have someone believe him, particularly Bail, brought a palpable sense of relief.
"It seems your instincts were correct, Master." Anakin waived them over. "The droid was carrying an encrypted travel log. Durge dropped off another agent just a week ago on Boz Pity."
"Durge? Boz Pity?" Bail leaned over Anakin's shoulder and called up the star charts. "What's been going on out here?"
"What hasn't?" Anakin shifted in his chair, moving as far as he could from Bail, and pointed at the screen. "Here. Boz Pity. It's just outside of Hutt Space. We could get there in less than a day."
"But what would we be walking into?" Bail frowned. "I'm sorry, but my mandate is to survey the Outer Rim and gather intelligence, not go walking blind into who knows what kind of situation."
Anakin opened his mouth to respond, but Obi-Wan cut him off. "Bail's right, Anakin. He's a non-combatant who shouldn't be out here in the first place. Download everything in this droid and send it to the Council. We'll wait for their response."
"Wait! By the time they make up their minds . . ."
"Anakin!"
Bail looked on as the pair stared one another down. Finally, in a quick jerk of a motion, Anakin got up and stalked off the bridge leaving Obi-Wan sighing in his wake.
"I'm sorry about that. My former Padawan is sometimes overzealous." Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. He was covered in scorch marks, his beard was singed, and every bone in his body ached. He needed medical attention, perhaps even a bacta tank, but it would have to wait.
"And sometimes you're too stubborn for good sense." Bail seemed to read Obi-Wan's mind. He bodily turned the Jedi and steered him toward the blast doors. "We've got a communications staff on this ship to take care of the droid. You need to be in the medbay."
"But I should report to the Council regarding . . ."
"No buts." Bail kept pushing. "I can take care of the Council report. Get patched up. I'm sure it won't be long before we have new orders."
Obi-Wan turned, intending to argue, and watched as Bail crossed his arms over his chest. How many times had he seen Bail's face set in that stern look? Stubborn Thranta he had called it years ago, for when Bail set his mind to something he was like an untrained mount with the bit in his teeth. Back then, it had been infuriating. Now, it made Obi-Wan's heart ache as much as the rest of his body. Unfortunately, the medbay would have no cure for the pain of lost love. After a moment, he simply shrugged. "I never could argue with you."
"Smart man."
He shook his head. Obstinate and smug as ever, this politician. How, Obi-Wan wondered, had they ever fallen for one another? "One more thing. Please notify the Council that Durge is no longer a problem."
Bail's eyebrows went up. "You killed him?"
"Anakin shoved him in an escape pod and shot it into the sun. Even Durge can't survive something like that."
Bail shook his head. "No wonder you both look like you fell into a nest of Gundarks!"
"We've done that, actually." Obi-Wan chuckled at the memory. "I think we looked better."
The expression on Bail's face, and his heavy sigh, made it clear he was harboring thoughts very similar to Obi-Wan's. "Go on; get out of here before I have them carry you out."
Obi-Wan couldn't stop the grin that came to his lips. "Yes, sir."
~~~~~~~~~
Eight light interceptors were sprinkled across the hangar bay of the ~Intervention~. Anakin lay under his, a hydrospanner in his hand, wondering how long it would take for the final three to arrive. While they idled in the Outer Rim near the Opoku system waiting for the rest of the strike team, precious time was being lost. Whatever, or whomever, was on Boz Pity would be gone when they got there at the rate things were moving.
"Well, Artoo, I think that does it. Run a diagnostic and see what we've got."
The droid chirped an affirmative as Anakin slid from underneath the starfighter. There was little he could do now but wait, and waiting had never been one of his strong points. He was a man of action, most centered in the Force when in motion. Being idle made him impatient, made his blood itch and his mind race. It made him long for the peace and comfort of his wife's arms.
A place he would be right now if it weren't for Obi-Wan's insistence that Ventress was alive.
Anakin tossed the hydrospanner into a nearby tool kit a little harder than he should have. The whole thing went skidding across the bay and troopers shot him looks. What was Obi-Wan's problem anyway? Being a Knight made no difference at all. If he said it was black, Obi-Wan insisted it was white. If he said he killed someone, Obi-Wan said they were still alive. Some things, it seemed, would never change.
The fact that Bail Organa was here didn't help matters. That son-of-a-nerf-herder shouldn't be out here, much less speaking to Obi-Wan. A Senator -- a non-combatant -- on a military craft was problem enough. He was probably the real reason they were hanging in space instead of beating down the Separatists' door. But what was that scene on the command bridge all about? Bail acted as if they were friends! How dare that man do such a thing! Did he have no shame? Didn't he care about Obi-Wan's feelings at all?
Anakin looked down at his hands, surprised to see them balled into tight fists. He wanted to punch something. In specific, he wanted to wipe the smile right off that smug Senator's face. It would teach the man right for marrying that woman and breaking his Master's heart. It was no wonder Obi-Wan hated politicians.
Artoo whirred and trilled. Anakin stepped up onto the wing of the starfighter and looked at the display in the cockpit, frowning.
"Only twelve? I'm never going to get that fifteen percent I'm looking for."
The droid made a series of chirps and a low whistle. Anakin looked at the translation.
"You think you can do it better? Fine! Give it a try! I'm done."
Anakin stalked the length of the hangar bay trying to think of something to do. He could sense Obi-Wan in the ship somewhere, as impatient as he was. There was an edge to his Force signature, something pensive and anxious. He wondered if it was Bail or if it was finding him with Padme on Naboo. The comment about every Padawan in the Temple knowing where to find him -- was it true, or just a jibe meant to put him in his place? Meant to insult his wife? As angry as that thought made him, he couldn?t blame Obi-Wan for any assumption. They were Jedi, and Jedi weren't supposed to get attached, much less married. Of course a few, like Ki-Adi-Mundi, had permission from the Council, but that was because his race was dying out and cultural taboos didn't allow procreation outside of marriage.
He had never understood the Jedi provision regarding attachment and he hoped he never would. What was so wrong about caring for others? He was supposed to be open of heart and mind, to feel compassion and sympathy, but it was to remain abstract, an aloof and dispassionate regard for all creation instead of direct ties to individuals. To become attached was to open yourself to the dark side, or so the mantra went. In his experience, it simply wasn't true. Caring about Padme and Obi-Wan -- even Artoo -- made him stronger, sharper, clearer of mind. It gave him the will and the power to achieve the impossible. It gave him hope when all hope seemed lost.
At some point he was going to have to talk to Obi-Wan. There was quite a lot to say. It was time for his former Master to stop treating him like a Padawan, scolding and chiding him at every turn. It was time for the man to give up this ridiculous idea that Ventress was still alive and start doing his duty -- just like he was by leaving his wife behind to save people's lives. And it was long past time to have a talk about Bail Organa. Because if Obi-Wan thought he was going to give lectures about attachment with that man on this boat, he had another thing coming.
Another interceptor glided to a stop on the hangar deck. Saesee Tin. Only two more to go. Anakin jerked his comm from his belt.
"Master, why don't you meet me in hangar bay twelve for a spar? It might do you some good, and if I stand still much longer I'm going to go crazy."
~~~~~~~~~
The ~Intervention~ was a smoking heap. Though still largely intact, perhaps even salvageable if the Separatists didn't destroy what was left of her, she wouldn't fly again without major repairs. Dropping out of hyperspace between the blockade and Boz Pity had been a good, if highly risky, plan, and Anakin had managed to get them past the ships, but they reverted to realspace too close to the planet. Their high speed was accelerated by the gravity well and made for a spectacular crash landing. Had anyone but Anakin been at the helm, they might not have survived at all.
Master Tin and the fighter squadrons had launched on reversion, and were doing their best to harass the blockade, but they wouldn't last long without heavy gun support. Ground forces needed to complete the mission and call for an extraction team before too many lives were lost. The huge concentration of Separatist forces suggested the presence of more than one asset. Though no one had said the words, everyone hoped to find the Leadership Council, or even Dooku, on this planet. The capture of either would go a long way toward ending the war.
"Scouts from the escape pods have located the Confederacy's base." The ARC trooper called Alpha made several hand gestures to the squadron behind him as he reviewed the information fed to his datalink. They fanned out and moved forward. "It's just over the next ridge, but the scouting party has been engaged. We've lost the element of surprise."
The element of surprise. Bail shook his head as he picked up two extra blaster recharge packs from the improvised supply area and shoved them into a pouch on his belt. He would have thought they lost the element of surprise when a Star Destroyer slammed into the planet. He looked down at the blaster he held in his hand. The metal of the black standard-issue military sidearm felt cold and deadly. Though he had survived bombings and assassination attempts, even been in a firefight or two, he had never killed someone. The blaster he carried for protection was a stun-only sporting model. While he'd used it often in the last four years, he had never drawn it in anything but self-defense. The thing he held in his hand now was made for death. And while the Confederacy's troops were comprised of droids, the commanders and leaders they served were made of flesh and bone.
How, he wondered, had it come to this? He was a peaceful man, a pacifist, and yet here he was on a far away planet about to participate in a ground assault. Had he compromised his principles somewhere along the way? He understood that sometimes words were not enough, but he had never been the one doing the -- what was it Obi-Wan called it all those years ago? -- aggressive negotiations. And what of the Jedi? Did they wonder the same things? They were keepers of the peace, religious men and women devoted to the ideals of governance and justice, not generals. Mace had said many times in the Supreme Chancellor's office that while the Jedi trained in battle strategy and tactics it was only for use as a last resort. He had seen disheartened Jedi kneeling in the center of the High Council Chamber with wounds of the soul far more fatal than those that covered their bodies. As a member of the Senate, as one of the many who voted for the creation of the Grand Army of the Republic, was he responsible for all of this?
The Jedi formed up with Bail in the middle. No one discussed the matter, they simply did it. Bail was a high-value non-combatant, and their mandate required them to protect a Senator of the Republic with their lives. He shouldn't have been in such a situation in the first place. An Outer Rim survey, that's what his mission was, not engaging the enemy and the capture of Separatist leaders. Yet here he was, in the eye of the storm, surrounded by ten Jedi. In other circumstances he would have felt quite safe, but in this instance he just felt like an obvious target.
The group crested the ridge and entered the melee. Blaster fire came from all directions as they fought their way to the Confederacy base. The Jedi fanned out, using lightsabers and the Force to assist in clearing a path to the entrance. Bail drained one charge pack for his blaster, ejected the empty, and slammed another home with shaking hands. He had taken down at least twenty droids but it barely made a dent. Clones fell screaming to the left and right of him, their armor rent by concussion grenades and scorched by blaster bolts. Smoke filled the air and dirt rained down from the sky filling Bail's lungs with a hot, oily, gritty residue that tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced. Running to keep up, he targeted anything in his path as they neared the entrance of the facility. More than once he avoided being shot by only millimeters.
"Over there!" he shouted to some nearby clones. "We need to get that entrance secure!"
Squad seven formed up, Alpha at the lead. A series of hand gestures later the men in white were rushing the objective. Masters Baytes and Gallia cut swaths through the battle droids while the clones, deadly and efficient, took care of the perimeter. The Jedi reached the protection of the archway when the door slid open.
"Master Gallia! Look out!"
"What is it, Baytes?"
For the first time in his life, Bail felt murderous rage. He screamed as Grievous casually eviscerated Master Baytes, and turned his attention, lightsaber in each hand, toward nearby troopers. Mace and Anakin came running, Mace shouting orders to nearby troopers on the fly.
Obi-Wan was nowhere to be seen.
Alpha and his squadron regrouped with Master Gallia. "Hold your ground!" she shouted as Grievous advanced. "Do not back down or we will be buried here!"
Bail rushed forward, Kit Fisto by his side, but they were all too late. Grievous stabbed Alpha and engaged Adi Gallia. He picked the Jedi up by the throat and ran her through with a lightsaber.
Mace confronted Grievous. He used the Force to pummel him with a nearby airspeeder. Bail dropped behind a broken monument and laid down suppressive fire as Anakin and Kit Fisto checked on Alpha's injuries.
"He's in bad shape, Anakin," Fisto said. "The wound goes all the way through. If his spine is damaged . . ."
Bail's second charge pack died. He pulled his last from his belt and slapped it in place. Another ten minutes and he'd be a sitting duck. It was looking more and more likely that he would never leave this rock. Breha would be devastated and the government of Alderaan would be thrown into chaos. This time, there would be no Jedi team to mediate the ascendancy. Tia was right, he'd spent years shirking his responsibilities, putting his own wants over his duty to his people. He should be on Alderaan right now, having meetings with ministers and giving the opening report to the Council of Elders. Instead, he was on Boz Pity chasing after his former lover, pinned down by battle droids, and staring death in the face.
That's when Obi-Wan exploded out of the side of the Separatist stronghold with Ventress hot on his heels.
Bail watched in horror as Obi-Wan slammed into the ground and tumbled at least twenty meters before coming to a halt. Anakin sprang to his Master's defense, lightsaber ignited and ready to attack. Obi-Wan responded by Force-pushing him out of Ventress' path.
"Anakin, no! All she has ever known is violence! We'll never reach her through a lightsaber! I still think there's a part of her that Dooku hasn't corrupted!"
A blaster bolt whizzed by Bail's head and he flattened himself to the ground. Everything seemed surreal. Was this really why Obi-Wan had pursued Ventress? He wanted to save her?
He heard lightsabers clash; heard Anakin shout and Ventress taunt. It sounded like Obi-Wan was refusing to fight. Bail fired off a few shots and looked around the rock he was now crouched behind. Dooku, along with a wounded Grievous and what he assumed were assassin droids, were headed for some transports that had landed in a nearby clearing.
Obi-Wan pointed toward the ships. "You see! Dooku flees without you! He would leave you here to die!"
"Liar!"
Bail wasn't sure what happened next. A group of super battle droids broke through their right flank and he took off at a sprint, crouched low and firing at anything that moved. By the time the clash was over, Bail had shrapnel cuts on his legs, a useless weapon, and a blaster burn that extended from his right shoulder to nearly his elbow.
Dooku was gone and Ventress was dead in Obi-Wan's arms.
~~~~~~~~~
Boz Pity. The graveyard world. A victory for the Republic that felt more like a defeat.
Obi-Wan sat atop the head of one of the broken monuments that littered the planet. When he was a Padawan he had read about this place and had been fascinated by its mysteries. Almost nothing was known of the civilization that had built the colossal memorials. The few bones found were as large as the monuments, leading xenoarchaeologists to posit they were a race of giants. Written records had never been found, and the ruins were devoid of carvings and adornment, leaving only unanswered questions.
He stared off into the distance across the rolling grasslands. Had they loved, these giants? Had they danced? Played music? Laughed and cried? Did they go to war? What secrets had they taken with them to their graves?
Obi-Wan sighed and closed his eyes. He could still see Ventress in the bacta tank. The Force knew what abominations the Separatists had done to her body in that experimental lab. Dooku had become a ruthless, callous man capable of all manner of treachery. In the end, Ventress discovered that for herself. To order the MagnaGuards to shoot her down like that, a woman who trusted him and viewed him as her mentor, was the worst kind of betrayal. How, he wondered, could his own Master, Qui-Gon, have come from such a one? What would Qui-Gon say to see Dooku now?
What he had said to Anakin was true. When he looked at Ventress he no longer saw a threat, he saw what Anakin might have become. Was Ventress' fate what would have awaited Anakin had Qui-Gon not gambled for his life? Would the chosen one have become twisted and warped by the Sith into an agent of evil? Had he done enough to instill kindness and compassion in Anakin's heart? Was he a stubborn man; blind to reality as Anakin had so often accused him of being during his quest?
He picked at his beard, consumed by the many burdens on his heart. The worst of them was Padme and what he had seen on Naboo. Anakin's feelings for her had always been strong. After Geonosis, it was clear she felt the same. It had been one of the most difficult tasks of his life when Yoda ordered him to confront Padme and put a stop to the burgeoning affair. He had appealed to her sense of duty, tried to make her understand the internal conflict and split loyalty such a romance would create in Anakin's heart. Had she lied when she promised to set aside her love for the good of Anakin and the Republic? And now that he suspected their relationship was more than friendship, was it not his responsibility to tell Yoda? What if Anakin picked her over the Jedi? Would they lose the chosen one? If they did, what would become of the Order? Would the dark side overwhelm them all?
He heard the scuff of boots on stone. Bail took a seat beside him. To his surprise, his former lover sat quietly, looking toward the horizon. They sat that way for a long time. Words didn't seem necessary. It was comfortable, peaceful. It reminded Obi-Wan of the days they spent together on Alderaan at Castle Lands.
"It really is beautiful here in a mysterious way. Perhaps, when the war is over, I'll come back. It reminds me, in a way, of Alderaan."
The corners of Obi-Wan's mouth quirked upward in a small smile.
"I'd just been thinking that."
Bail turned his head. He reached out and laid a hand over Obi-Wan's. "Everything here seems so surreal. It's as though nothing exists outside this moment -- this place. I know that it does, but . . ."
"It's battle fatigue," Obi-Wan said flatly, still staring into the distance. "When you survive while those around you fall, you begin to feel disconnected to cope with the carnage. After, when the battle is over, you feel euphoric and invincible. You take risks you know you shouldn't. Later, the depression sets in. You feel impotent and powerless. You wonder why you lived and what it was all for. You become astounded at your inability to feel horror or loss. You become numb, distant to everyone in your life because it's the only way you can face going back out and doing it all over again."
Bail's breathing hitched and he looked down at Obi-Wan's hand under his. "I wish I could take some of this burden from you," he whispered.
"You can't, Bail. No man can carry another man's guilt."
Obi-Wan finally turned to look at the man beside him. Bail's clothes were ruined: torn, burned, and covered with russet splotches of dried blood. Soot and dirt were ground into his skin. He could see the white of a bacta patch through the burn hole on Bail's right shoulder. He reached out and brushed his fingers against the bandage.
"I'm sorry I involved you in this."
"You didn't involve me." Bail's face hardened. "The war involved me. My loyalty to the principles of the Republic involved me. I just happened to be in the neighborhood when you needed a lift."
"But you could have been killed, Bail."
Bail's voice rose. "And you couldn't have been?"
"I'm a Jedi. This is what I do. What I trained for all my life."
"No, it's not! You trained to be a Keeper of the Peace, to use violence as a last resort, not to be a general in an ugly war!"
Obi-Wan sighed and let his hand fall from Bail's shoulder. He tried to turn away, but Bail wouldn't let him.
"Look at me, Obi-Wan. I may be a politician and a pacifist, but I'm no fool. I know what war is and I can defend myself. The last three years seem to have proven that fact to everyone but you." Bail reached out and took Obi-Wan's face in his hands. "You can't save everyone. No one can. Ventress made her choice. All of us make our choices. I do. Anakin does. Mace and Yoda and Quinlan and Adi. Even Qui-Gon. We choose, and we live or die by our choices, but they are our choices to make and you must let us make them. Let us each play our part in our own time, whatever that part may be, and let us go."
Something gave way. Silent tears came, obscuring Bail's features. It was easy to march along and say to himself that what he did was a matter of duty, not to question what he did or why. It was simple to be a speck against the backdrop of the stars and tell himself the Force guided his path. Yoda had told him that even the best blades could not survive constant use. He felt tarnished, chipped, and worn. Bail's kiss, when it came, was soft and full of comfort, a blade sliding into the protection of its well-worn sheath.
Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Bail and drew him close. "You've spent too much time with Yoda," he whispered.
Bail chuckled and hugged him back. "Well, it was him or Plo Koon. Who would you have picked?"
They were silent for a time, Obi-Wan resting his head on Bail's good shoulder. "I'm still sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to go against the will of the Council. It was wrong."
"That apology I'll accept, but only on one condition."
Obi-Wan pulled away, a frown of suspicion on his face. "And what condition would that be?"
"That you accept mine. I shouldn't have accused you of trying to manipulate me. I didn't want to listen to what you had to say because I was afraid -- afraid of what I felt." Bail looked down at the ground. "It was unfair and you didn't deserve it."
"I think I can accept those terms."
They looked at each other, just sat there and looked for a long time. The long years of their estrangement finally fell away, and for a moment Obi-Wan almost thought he could sense something, the warmth of caring from Bail, but it was fleeting and elusive. He brushed a hand over Bail's matted hair and placed a kiss on his forehead.
"You love her."
"Yes. It's different than what I feel for you but . . ."
He nodded at Bail's reply. It was exactly what he expected. "I'll never leave the Order."
"I know." Bail met Obi-Wan's frank gaze. "I wouldn't want you to. You wouldn't be who you are without being a Jedi and I would never change you."
"What are we going to do?"
Bail let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know."
Obi-Wan smiled, the weight on his suddenly heart gone. Everything was different and nothing had changed. They were older, hopefully a little wiser, but still the same men. "Well, what was so hard about that? All these years we've avoided things and it seems talking didn't solve much, did it? What were we waiting for?"
"I have no idea," Bail said, returning the smile. "For the life of me, I have no idea."
Obi-Wan turned away from Bail and looked again toward the horizon. The sun was low in the sky. Smoke and dirt in the atmosphere from the battle promised a sunset full of rich ochre and vermillion. Behind them lay the wreckage of the ~Intervention~; to their right the abandoned Separatist base. Sprint-class medrunners from Kamino landed in between to shuttle injured troopers back to the cloning facility. It would be almost a day before the extraction ship, Triumph, arrived from Coruscant.
"I'm tired."
Bail nodded. "The troopers were setting up a bivouac near the ship and I saw some crates of field rations. If we're lucky they might even have some showers running."
"I think I'll stay up here just a little longer." Obi-Wan took a deep breath and then turned to face Bail. "Unless you're coming with me."
The conflicted look on Bail's face made it clear the invitation had been understood. Obi-Wan was surprised he felt no twinge of guilt. He was, after all, asking Bail to be unfaithful to his wife.
Bail stood, his motions stiff and awkward. "I want to. You have no idea how much. But . . ."
"I understand. You're an honorable man, Bail. You always were. It was one of the things I loved most about you."
Bail made a choked noise in the back of his throat. Before Obi-Wan could say another word, he slid down the side of the monument and was gone.
~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~
Chapter 4
Something was about to happen. He could feel it.
Mace sat with the rest of the Jedi around a small fire eating field rations and sharing memories of their fallen comrades. When he left here he would travel to New Holstice and the memorial of the fallen. He would whisper the words Soon Baytes and Adi Gallia, their names to be repeated eternally by the memory moths. Both had been good friends and Mace would miss their counsel.
But there was something else, an undercurrent of tension flowing in the Force. He shifted his gaze from one of his fellows to the next, studying, looking for the source of his unease. Plo Koon, Saesee Tin, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, A'Sharad Hett. He sensed nothing in them that might bring such feelings. His eyes fell on Skywalker. As the chosen one, the crystalline structures that surrounded him were complex. The faults and fractures of destiny touched every portion of Anakin's life. Tonight, however, it was clear that something weighed on the young Knight. Mace sensed frustration and anxiety, but when he attempted to find the source, to perceive the future and discover where what he saw might lead, he found nothing.
Nothing at all.
He shifted, looking to his left. Bail Organa sat quiet and pensive, picking at a ration pack. The man had acquitted himself well during the fight. Bringing him had been a calculated risk, as had approaching him to lead the Outer Rim survey, but Yoda felt it was time to test their theory regarding the Senator. If a Jedi could sense nothing from him, could not view future events surrounding him, then it followed that a Sith could not either. A Star Destroyer with Organa in command -- would the Sith see it, or could it give the Jedi the edge they had been lacking since the beginning of the war? Finding Dooku had been exactly the kind of thing they had hoped for, but the cost of the battle had been high. Would that be the price of using Organa in such a manner? Would the Force make them pay for such attempts with Jedi lives?
Mace discreetly returned his gaze to Skywalker. He was surprised to see Anakin glaring at Bail. The Force roiled, fractures shifting and merging. Whatever was wrong, it definitely involved the Senator from Alderaan.
This was -- unexpected.
Frowning, Mace searched the group and realized Kenobi was absent. Until now it hadn't seemed strange. He assumed Obi-Wan was meditating and had thought nothing of it. Reaching outward, he centered his thoughts and tried to sense the missing Jedi Master. He found confusion and sorrow. Mace returned his attention to Organa.
"Senator, are you all right? Can I find you something else to eat?"
"Oh." Bail started at Mace's question. "I'm sorry, Master Windu. I guess I have a lot on my mind."
"Understandable. You haven't, by chance, seen Obi-Wan, have you?"
"Not for a while." Bail poked at his food. "He wanted time alone."
Mace suppressed a sigh. The time had apparently come. Both Bail and Obi-Wan would now have to choose, and the fate of the Jedi might rest on their decisions. Was it possible, given the void that existed around Organa, that Yoda had somehow known this when he asked the Senator to lead this mission?
"We have known one another for some time now, Senator. Might I offer some words of advice?"
Bail set his ration pack aside. "Of course."
"A Jedi learns young to refrain from action that might lead to regret. We learn it because of the power we are given and because our lives are full of danger. None of us knows when we will be called -- when we will become one with the Force. That moment must be one of joy, not one of sorrow. Because of this, the heart of a Jedi is never given lightly. Obi-Wan's --"
"-- is more fragile than I might imagine?"
Mace nodded, surprised.
"Thank you, Master Windu." Bail took his ration pack and stood up. "I will keep that in mind."
Mace watched as Bail turned and walked away. Whatever would come, it was out of his hands. He must trust in the will of the Force.
~~~~~~~~~
There now existed two Bail Organas.
One Bail was a strong man; a stalwart man; a man who valued duty, honor, and truth. That Bail Organa was a man of principles who placed the needs of his family and his planet first, who politically championed those without a voice, and who worked hard to help those in need because he understood he lived a life of privilege. He was a pacifist who did not believe in violence and found the resolution of conflict by arms to be the worst of all possible failures. That Bail was a loyalist and a Republican and a friend of the Supreme Chancellor.
But another Bail Organa existed. A Bail who was selfish and wanton, full of desires and misdeeds. He could lie to his wife and his family about his activities and whereabouts. He could plot and scheme and misdirect when it suited him. He could shirk his duties to his planet, could create blind credit accounts, knew how to smuggle weapons and speeders under aliases, and regularly called clandestine meetings of individuals who actively worked to undermine the government. That Bail was a crack shot, had been trained in hand-to-hand combat techniques, and could field-strip and rebuild hyperdrive in under forty minutes. That Bail was willing to make deals with slave traders, pay money to smugglers, and fraternize with pirates and thieves to achieve his ends.
These opposites coexisted peacefully inside a single skin, strangely at home with one another. One justified the other as a terrible necessity brought on by extreme circumstances. The honorable man said the deceitful one was temporary, that deception was a means to an honorable end. The dutiful man told himself it was duty that drove the misdeeds and lies of omission. The pacifist said that one could not ignore reality; sometimes diplomacy failed. The galaxy was not full of other pacifists; it was a dangerous place and one must be prudent and live to negotiate another day. Not to be able to defend oneself was worse than unwise and invited threat and intimidation from those who cared nothing about peace. And these justifications, these rationalizations, had worked until now.
Now, however, these two Bails were at war.
The sun set over the battlefields of Boz Pity, and the selfish, wanton man inside made a play for power. Who would know what happened on this distant planet? It wasn't as if the specter of Obi-Wan Kenobi hadn't been in his marriage bed for years, lying there between he and his wife in the form of latent desires and guilt over the lack of an heir. Hadn't he already admitted to himself that Obi-Wan was more important than anything else when he boarded a Star Destroyer instead of flying home to Alderaan? His presence on this planet, his willingness to kill to keep Obi-Wan safe, proved the depth of the love that still existed. What difference would it make to act on his desire now? The literal sin was simply a matter of semantics.
To make things worse, he'd kissed Obi-Wan. He'd tasted forbidden fruit. Obi-Wan's face in his hands, the prickle and scratch of his beard and the salt of his tears, awoke such keen desire for more that he could think of almost nothing else. He burned with it. Here there were no committee meetings to attend, bills to read, or secret meetings to divert his attention. While there had been a cold, improvised shower, it was barely long enough to scrape the filth and grime of the fighting off his injured body. No theater seats or HoloNet to distract his mind; no alcohol to drink himself into a stupor; no training droid to thrash against until he was so tired he could do nothing but collapse onto a bed.
A bed. The very idea of one made him want to groan.
Obi-Wan wanted him, had asked him. Of course the offer hadn't been explicit, but it didn't need to be. Everything was there in those stormy eyes just as it had been years ago. Worse yet, Obi-Wan had said the one word Bail had always longed to hear: love. In every action and deed during their time together the Jedi had implied his love, but it had never been given voice. Bail had accepted it as a matter of course. Jedi, aside from very rare exceptions, did not marry. Everyone in the galaxy knew it. There were Jedi children who were born at the Temple, one assumed to Jedi parents, but the Order was known for its rules about attachment. It was part of the mystique. A Jedi gave up love for their esoteric religion and supernatural powers. Still, Bail couldn't help wanting to hear the words, I love you.
Technically, he still hadn't.
The ration pack he tried to eat tasted like ashes and oil. Every bite he took only made him nauseous. Why, he wondered, had Mace used those words? They had been an echo of the last words Qui-Gon Jinn had ever spoken to him.
"Have care, Bail Organa. You tread on dangerous ground. The heart of a Jedi is never given lightly and Obi-Wan's is far more fragile than you could possibly imagine."
Yet Mace had also spoken of regrets and the lack of them. Were the words a warning or a blessing?
Perhaps they were both.
Regret was, in the end, what it all boiled down to. Which would he come to regret more: being unfaithful to his wife or not giving in to his desire for his former lover? Which could he live with? Could he spend a night with Obi-Wan and walk away? Would it bring him some kind of closure? Could he keep such a secret from Breha? Should he even try? There was no question of leaving her. And, even if there were, Obi-Wan was a Jedi and always would be. They could never be together the way Bail wanted; it was a fact he had always known.
A shadow picked its way through the camp, periodically outlined by the flicker of dying flames. Obi-Wan. Bail got up and followed. He didn't lie to himself about why he was doing it, or tell himself that what would come next was the heat of the moment. What was left of the voice of the honorable man said that doing such a thing would be wrong, that he should take responsibility for his actions. To do less would diminish anything that occurred. If he took this step, it must be an active choice or else he was only a slave to animal instinct.
He caught up with the cloaked shadow as it moved between lumps of sleeping troopers. Reaching out, he grabbed Obi-Wan by the arm and turned him, almost roughly. The Jedi's hood slipped back. Even in the dim light Bail could see surprise on Obi-Wan's face. There was a pause as they looked at one another, as if time had stopped to give Bail one final chance to change his mind.
He did not.
Bail pulled Obi-Wan forward and crushed their lips together. He heard a low, startled moan before Obi-Wan responded in kind. They stood there in a sea of sleeping clones, clinging to one another as if separation might mean the end of the world.
Finally they had to part for air. Bail's breath came in rapid, shallow gasps and his body trembled. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, seemed unfazed. He took hold of Bail's hand with one of his, put a finger to his lips with the other, and tugged gently. Obi-Wan led him through the makeshift camp to a small group of emergency shelters. They stopped in front of one and Obi-Wan turned. Bail thought that he might say something, but instead the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth quirked in a gentle smile. For a moment Bail could see the Padawan he once knew, monstrosity of a haircut and all, and he smiled back. Whatever reservations might have lingered in his heart were gone.
They moved inside, the reflective fabric of the shelter creating a soft, dull glow. Without speaking, Bail reached out and grasped Obi-Wan's belt. Performing a ritual of sorts from years ago, Bail then knelt to remove Obi-Wan's boots and carefully peeled away each layer of abused cloth, folding the garments and setting them aside in a neat stack. He brushed his hands over Obi-Wan's skin, his fingers tracing the outlines of the lightsaber scars he found.
"We are neither young nor innocent anymore, are we?" Bail whispered.
"Is that bad?" Obi-Wan took hold of Bail's hand and kissed the palm.
Bail sighed and rubbed his thumb against Obi-Wan's cheek. "I suppose not."
Hands brushed over the light gray fabric of the tailored jacket Bail wore, and lingered with the buttons of the white shirt underneath. He watched Obi-Wan frown at the bacta patch on his shoulder before kissing nearby exposed skin. The fine hairs on his body stirred, skin prickling as he stopped thinking and lived only in the moment. He didn't see Obi-Wan kneel -- his eyes had drifted closed -- but he felt strong hands run down his legs and nudge up a foot to remove a boot. Bail let Obi-Wan handle him, strip him, touch him without comment. Words weren't necessary anymore; they had ceased to need them in moments like these years ago.
Obi-Wan's breath brushing a thigh as the last of the clothing came off brought Bail's erection to full hardness. He opened his eyes and watched the head disappear between soft lips. Their first night together Obi-Wan had sucked him like this in the foyer of the apartment at 500 Republica. They'd been young men then, and the combination of Bail's inexperience and the long years of unresolved sexual tension between them meant it had lasted all of a minute. He'd been embarrassed by his lack of stamina, disappointed to miss seeing Obi-Wan's hollowed cheeks and bobbing head. Tonight, in the dark of the small shelter, he kept his eyes open, though he could see little more than outlines and shadows. He sighed in pleasure and slipped a hand into Obi-Wan's soft hair, feeling the tension build and trying not to thrust. Making the act last was important because it might never happen again.
Obi-Wan clutched Bail's ass and took him all the way in. His heart pounded in his chest, the beat strong and throbbing through the closed system of his veins. Bail knew it wouldn't be long now; the pressure would release and the moment would be gone. He clapped a hand to Obi-Wan's shoulder for ballast. Just as his psyche had been torn in two earlier, now his body seemed incapable of singular decision. Part of him wanted to push and the other to pull. He began to feel lightheaded, his breathing shallow and rapid as the need for orgasm rushed up.
Finally he stopped fighting and let it happen. He cupped a hand behind Obi-Wan's head and bucked hard as he came.
His knees gave out. They both fell to the ground in a heap. Bail's softening erection twitched from the sudden change in air temperature, quickly shrinking back like an independent living thing. He groped and pulled Obi-Wan to him, wanting him even more now that it was over.
They kissed and Bail tasted the bitterness of his own ejaculate. Obi-Wan squirmed and moaned against him. Bail could feel the hard, leaking erection digging into his hip. He petted Obi-Wan, trying to soothe and calm his need, but it didn't seem to help. Finally he grasped Obi-Wan by the shoulders and pushed him up.
"Wait."
Obi-Wan stilled and looked down. Bail could almost see the color of his eyes.
"I want --" he tried to force the words out but wasn't quite coherent. "I need you. Can we --"
He could see Obi-Wan understood.
"There's a medkit in here somewhere."
Bail nodded and Obi-Wan tore himself away. The Jedi felt along the fabric of the tent wall, searching. Bail sat up and found the bedrolls. He stood, pulled the cords, and lay the thin thermal blankets down on the ground as a cushion. They weren't a soft bed, but this wasn't Coruscant and they weren't having a premeditated tryst. He lay down on his back, legs spread, and waited.
It didn't take long for Obi-Wan to return. Bail had no idea what was in the medkit, and he didn't care. All he knew was Obi-Wan's fingers were covered in something cold and slick when they slipped inside. He arched his back and tried to stifle the shout he wanted to make. It had been so many years since he had felt this, and he had missed it so much. His hands clenched in the blankets as Obi-Wan's fingers slipped in and out of him, twisting and probing. There was nothing else like this, nothing even came close. His body responded with a halfhearted attempt at an erection, and it surprised him. It had been years since he'd been able to get hard again this fast. When Obi-Wan took one of his legs and hiked it over a shoulder, he was so ready he could hardly stand it.
"For kriff's sake," he moaned, "do it."
Obi-Wan did.
It stung at first, as if it were the first time, but Bail's body remembered and soon relaxed. They made love then, slowly meshing their bodies in a kind of ritual dance the way it was meant be done -- a sharing of more than body fluid, a meeting of souls. Bail panted as they strained against one another, unable to come close enough. He imagined he could feel Obi-Wan's heartbeat pulsing inside him, ran his hands over every bit of skin he could find. There was a change in Obi-Wan's breathing and Bail shifted, desperately attempting to merge with the body on top of his. He pulled with one hand and slipped a finger of the other into the exposed crack, teasing the pucker of Obi-Wan's anus, and the Jedi bucked hard. Bail did it again, pushing just a little and was rewarded with a growl and a shudder.
"Let go, Ben," he whispered. "Let go."
The rhythm turned staccato. Obi-Wan changed his angle and drove in as hard as he could. Bail whimpered, his erection leaking small streams of fluid with every thrust. And when Obi-Wan finally came, Bail kept his eyes open for that too, watching the shadowed face he loved so much twist in a combination of agony and pleasure.
There was a reason, he thought, that they called it a little death.
Obi-Wan reached between them, still moving, and pumped at Bail's erection. He didn't think he could do it, but the orgasm happened anyway. It moved in waves, shooting out of him from his balls all the way up his chest. When Obi-Wan finally collapsed on top of him, onto the sticky mess, Bail could hardly breathe.
At some point they fell asleep. Bail woke with a sense of soreness and ejaculate dried in his chest hair. He didn't care. He ran a hand lightly over Obi-Wan's exposed arm, brushed the other against his back, and reveled in the feel of it. This was his Ben, whipcord strength and lean muscle over a heart of gold. What was a little mess compared to the beauty of this?
Obi-Wan stirred and shifted, nuzzling at Bail's neck.
"You awake?"
"Hm."
"I love you, you know."
Bail didn't expect a response. He didn't need one. Not anymore.
~~~~~~~~~
Just a few more hours and he'd be off this rock.
Anakin's starfighter rested on the other side of the ~Intervention~, system-bound like the others until the extraction team showed up to tow their hyperspace rings into orbit. Technically, three days of his leave remained. He hoped the Council would honor them instead of coming up with another mission to send him on.
Three days was better than nothing.
He was worried about Obi-Wan, though. The few heated words they exchanged during their spar left Anakin with no illusions. There was a distinct possibility Obi-Wan would report what he saw on Naboo to the Council.
It was the assumption behind what Obi-Wan saw that was the real problem. He and Padme weren't having an affair, they were married. There had been times when he seriously considered telling Obi-Wan the truth. It would be a relief, frankly, to stop lying. But would telling Obi-Wan the truth make things worse? Admitting an affair of the heart was something Obi-Wan might understand. It wasn't as if his former Master was a model of indifference. Their missions with Siri Tachi, and her subsequent death, made it clear Obi-Wan had more attachments in his life than just his old flame, Bail Organa.
Still, it was one thing to be involved and another to be committed. Anakin had no doubts. If the Jedi tried to make him choose, he would choose Padme no matter the cost. Obi-Wan might be sympathetic about falling in love, but a marriage would be a step too far.
No, he wouldn't tell Obi-Wan about the wedding and would imply any intimacy was recent. He wouldn't outright lie if he could help it, but he certainly wouldn't tell the whole truth.
Mind made up, he left his shelter. The sky was brightening with the first hints of dawn. He hadn't seen Obi-Wan in the camp the night before, and he should probably let him sleep, but putting off the talk might mean not having it at all. While part of Anakin would rather say nothing, he couldn't risk it now.
He closed his eyes and reached outward with the Force, feeling the threads of life and power that flowed around him. Mace and Ki-Adi-Mundi were already awake and near the ship, probably using the holoprojector to communicate with Coruscant. Plo Koon, Saesee Tin, and Kit Fisto were still farther, likely inspecting their starfighters. The spark of Agen Kolar was in the other direction, toward the Separatist base. No doubt the Master was making a final check to be sure nothing of import was left behind. A'Sharad Hett was far from camp, but his signature was radiant, almost overpowering. He must be doing forms.
Where, he wondered, was Obi-Wan?
Anakin let his mind sink into the old training bond and found him. Obi-Wan was still asleep. He sensed relaxation, contentment, peace, and -- happiness?
He opened his eyes and turned right, using the bond to guide him. He passed several groups of troopers stirring from their rest; readying for another day of war. He reached a shelter on the far side of camp. Obi-Wan was here. Anakin took a deep breath, cleared his mind, and went inside.
"Master, come on, the whole camp is practically awake. What were you doing last night, practicing form fi--"
Anakin's eyes adjusted and he stopped mid sentence. A pair of eyes looked up at him from the ground, but they weren't Obi-Wan's, they were Bail Organa's. There was no way to mistake what had happened. They were naked, uncovered, lying twined together atop the blankets. Anakin clapped a hand over his nose and mouth partly from surprise and partly due to the overwhelming smell of sex.
He thought he might retch.
From that nausea in the pit of his stomach, something else unfurled. Something hard and bright and unexpected.
Jealousy.
"Anakin."
Obi-Wan was awake. He had shifted on the blankets, turned away from the warmth of Bail Organa and exposed himself fully to Anakin's view as he reached for his robe.
Anakin slammed his eyes closed, turned on his heel, and fled.
"Anakin, wait!"
He could hear them as he ran. Obi-Wan shouted and Organa's lower pitch urged circumspection and clothes before leaving the shelter. Anakin paid no attention to them or to his path. He rushed through the clones, scattering people, weapons, armor, and blankets in his wake. All he could see in front of him were two naked bodies; one swarthy and dark, the other pale and golden.
Before he knew it he was inside the remains of the ~Intervention~. Troopers and droids carried crates from storage areas as Anakin ran past. He was almost to the main hangar bay when a hand grabbed his arm.
Obi-Wan had only his pants and robe to cover himself. The man hadn't even put on his boots. Anakin didn't wait for him to speak. He shouted at his former Master in the middle of the compartment, not caring that troopers looked sideways as they passed. "I can't believe you! How could you do that!"
Obi-Wan blinked, clearly shocked by the vehemence of Anakin's words. "And I can't believe your reaction. Anakin, this is completely inappropriate."
"Inappropriate? Inappropriate! Who are you to lecture me on what's appropriate?"
"How you can justify this kind of behavior, after I found you on Naboo with Senator Amidala in what could only be called a compromising position, is beyond my understanding!"
"That's different!"
Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest. "I fail to see how."
Anakin's hands were clenched into tight fists, his body vibrated with the force of his emotions. The snake of jealousy twisting in his gut was joined by another of anger. He didn't even try to keep his expression placid. The disgust and fury he felt contorted his normally mild-mannered face. He saw Obi-Wan's eyes widen and felt strangely pleased to see his Master take a tentative step backward. When Anakin's words finally came, low and filled with contempt, he could tell they were not what Obi-Wan expected.
"That man left you! He tossed you aside like you were nothing. Yet you would go back to him and let him do -- that!"
Obi-Wan reached forward, his robe falling open. "Anakin, you don't understand."
"What's there to understand?" Anakin cut him off, refusing to listen. "Did you think I didn't know? That I couldn't tell? I might have been young, Obi-Wan, but I wasn't stupid! I knew you left at night; that you snuck out to see someone when you thought I was asleep. Someone you went away with when you left me with Garen Muln and Master Rhara on Centax 2. But until we went to his wedding, I didn't know who it was. I'll never forget the look on your face; the pain in your eyes. The way you closed yourself off to everyone after that, like some kind of droid. That man destroyed a part of you! How can you forgive him after what he did?"
Obi-Wan's response was a whisper. "I wasn't the only one hurt, Anakin. I hurt him too."
"So I'm supposed to feel sorry for him, is that it? I'm supposed to think finding that man with you is all right because he got hurt too?" Anakin spat. "I'm sure that will be a great comfort to his wife."
"That is entirely uncalled for!"
"No, it's not! He puts on this front -- acts like he's a man of integrity and principle -- when he's just a lying, conniving, adulterous politician like the rest of those corrupt piles of bantha poodoo!"
Obi-Wan took two steps forward and put himself nose to nose with Anakin. "That is enough! This galaxy is not as black and white as you want it to be. I knew Bail for nearly seven years before I met you. He was my best friend. He was my lover. He helped me through the death of my Master and was there for me in ways you can't possibly understand!"
"You've lectured me over and over about attachment, given me grief about Padme, and yet here you are, screwing Bail Organa! You can't tell me it meant nothing to you!"
"Of course it meant something!"
Troopers kept filing past, pretending not to notice the shouting match. Anakin stared at Obi-Wan, his mouth hanging open at the admission made. Obi-Wan seemed just as shocked. Anakin could see him trembling, his Force aura vibrating, as they stood there in the hallway.
Finally, Obi-Wan moved. He flicked a hand up and to the side, using the Force to open a nearby hatch. He then grabbed Anakin by the arm, pulled him into the empty supply room, and shut the door behind them.
"Anakin, I won't deny Bail means something to me. To do so would be a lie. But when he leaves this planet, he goes back to Alderaan and his wife. To his duty. And so do I. What happened here will remain here." Obi-Wan looked away and wrapped his arms around himself in a protective motion. The expression on his face was full of conflict. "I care for him -- I always have and always will -- but we have no illusions about the nature of what lies between us. He must be free to fulfill his obligations to his people just as I must first serve the Jedi and the Force."
Anakin frowned. "So it's fine for you to care about someone, but when I care for Padme . . ."
"Don't you understand? Did you ignore every lesson I ever tried to teach you?" Obi-Wan's head snapped back to Anakin, his arms thrown up in a gesture of frustration. "I've tried to protect you from this! She can never be yours, Anakin, and you can never be hers! You have a destiny, a responsibility! It was given to you and no one else. You cannot simply toss it aside because it is inconvenient!" Obi-Wan took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. "Stop being selfish and think of her, of her feelings. If you truly feel as you do about what Bail did to me, then how can you play his role in the story of her life? How can you break Padme's heart the way he broke mine?"
Anakin dropped onto a nearby crate, stunned. Was Obi-Wan right? Was that what he had done when he married Padme? No. Anakin shook his head. Bail Organa had walked away and left the one who loved him behind in shattered pieces. He could never walk away from Padme, could never put anything before her or break her heart.
"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan knelt in front of Anakin. "I am so sorry if I hurt you. I didn't know you knew."
"All I ever wanted was to help you, Master." Anakin closed his eyes. "Qui-Gon died and you were so sad. I wanted to be the best apprentice, to make you proud. You are the closest thing I have ever had to a father. A brother. You are my best friend." He reached out and brushed a hand against Obi-Wan's cheek. "I only want you to be happy. I love you."
Obi-Wan sat back on his heels. "What?"
"I just meant that . . ." Anakin's hand dropped to his side and his voice trailed off. He stared at Obi-Wan and realized he meant exactly what he had said. He loved Obi-Wan.
Shocked at himself, Anakin stood up with a jerk. Before Obi-Wan could respond, he was out the door and gone.
~~~~~~~~~
"Alderaan and the Jedi have had a long history of friendship and cooperation, Master Windu. Anything the people of Alderaan can do, that I can do, to assist the Jedi, you have but to ask."
The Tantive IV sat about a dozen meters away, its Captain and senior staff arrayed in a line on the boarding ramp, awaiting their Viceroy. Obi-Wan stood next to Mace, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe, as Bail Organa said formal words of parting. Though his face was a blank canvas, inside he was a mess.
"May the Force be with you."
Mace bowed and Obi-Wan joined him. Anakin had disappeared. Even the training bond was silent. Now Bail was leaving and they hadn't had a chance to talk. There had been few moments in his life when Obi-Wan hadn't known what to do. This was one of them.
"Master Kenobi, I know you're busy but could walk with me?"
"Of course, Senator."
Bail turned toward the ship and Obi-Wan moved into step beside him.
"Are you all right?"
"I am --" he glanced at Bail's face " -- concerned."
"Anakin?"
"We spoke, but it resolved nothing."
Bail sighed. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault."
They arrived at the ramp. Bail nodded toward Captain Antilles and the crew disappeared into the ship. "We need to talk about what happened, but . . ."
"It's all right, Bail. We have our duties and obligations. They must come first."
Obi-Wan could see the conflict in Bail's eyes and sympathized. Neither one of them wanted it to be this way, but they had no choice. They never had. He wondered if Bail regretted what happened in the harsh light of morning, particularly in the face of Anakin's reaction, but this was not the time or place to discuss such matters. Still, there were words he could say.
"I'll miss you."
Bail closed his eyes and took a few breaths. When he opened them again, Obi-Wan could see the shimmer of unshed tears.
"I feel like we're always saying goodbye to each other."
He wanted to reach out and hold Bail so badly. Instead he tucked his arms in his sleeves to keep him from the temptation.
"Safe journey, Bail. Force willing, we will see one another again soon."
Bail nodded, his lips pursed together. After a moment he simply turned and walked up the ramp.
The atomizer engines forced hot air toward the ground as the ship prepared to launch. Obi-Wan moved backward and out of range. He watched the Tantive IV lift off, rotate, and rocket into the vastness of space.
Bail was right, they were always saying goodbye.
He turned and walked back toward the Intervention. It was only then that he noticed Anakin's starfighter was gone.
~~~~~~~~~
Anakin rolled onto his back, his heart rate returning to normal. Padme slipped against him, fingers running over his bare chest.
"Not that I'm complaining, but where did that come from?"
He grabbed her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I need a reason other than the fact that I have the most beautiful wife in the galaxy?"
Padme propped herself up on one arm. "All right. That's it. Something's bothering you. I can tell."
There was no avoiding the conversation. He really didn't want to talk about anything that happened on Boz Pity, didn't even want to think about it, but Anakin knew his wife. She wouldn't let this go.
"It's Obi-Wan."
"You talked to him?"
"Not exactly."
Padme frowned. "You argued?"
Argued. He supposed the term was apt. They hadn't come to blows so he wouldn't call it a fight. In fact, for a moment, he thought they might finally bridge the gap that had always been between them. Obi-Wan had been so vulnerable, so close to losing his vaunted self-control. He had never seen him like that before.
"Is he going to tell the Council?"
"No."
At least he didn't think so. Obi-Wan reporting his suspicions seemed unlikely for several reasons, the least of which was Bail Organa.
"Did you tell him?"
He closed his eyes. Behind his lids he could still see Obi-Wan naked in that shelter. Naked, and in the arms of another man. He could still feel the anger and jealousy, the strange disappointment. Could still see Obi-Wan on his knees in front of him and hear him saying, "I'm so sorry I hurt you."
"No. All he wanted to do was lecture me about my responsibilities to the Order."
Padme rested her head on his chest. "I hate that you have to keep secrets from him when you care for him so much."
Anakin buried his face in Padme's hair and pulled her close. He wanted to stop talking. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to stop being the chosen one.
He wanted to stop wishing Obi-Wan would love him.
Overwhelmed by his confused emotions, Anakin rolled and pinned his wife beneath him. He looked down at her, long dark curls fanned out around her head. She was his beautiful angel, his perfect woman, and Naboo his paradise. There was no room for doubt in perfection. He kissed her and let the passion he felt for her shove aside all uncertainty.
~~~~~~~~~
Breha rushed up the ramp and threw herself at Bail before he was even off the ship. He reflexively wrapped his arms around her in response. Her small body felt soft and fragile, so different from Obi-Wan's.
"Bail, I've been so afraid! They said you were injured!"
She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He brushed a hand over her hair and murmured words of comfort, attempting to reassure her. The display seemed so emotional compared to Obi-Wan's stoic words of parting.
Breha twined her arms around Bail's neck, stretching up to kiss him. Their lips met and he felt a crushing wave of guilt. She was so passionate, clinging to him as if she feared he wasn't real, and he had to force himself to find some kind of appropriate response. Never in their entire married life had he felt so much as uncomfortable in her presence. She had always been a balm to him in times of trouble, a refuge from the harsh realities of life. Now, as she pressed herself against him with such fervor, he could only think of how it felt to surrender in Obi-Wan's embrace. He was a cad, a selfish bastard. Not only had he been unfaithful to this sweet woman but now he stood here comparing her to the man he had left behind.
Bail carefully reached up and pulled Breha's arms from around his neck. Breha looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wet with tears. "I don?t know what I would do if I lost you!"
Bail squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't sure he could do this, could be this man and live with his heart torn in two. Surely Breha would notice something was different.
"Bail? Are you all right?"
"I'm sorry, darling, I'm just tired."
When had it become so easy to lie? He didn't deserve either one of them.
"Of course you are." Breha sniffed and brushed away her tears on the back of a sleeve. "What was I thinking?"
They turned together and went down the ramp arm in arm. The palace staff lined either side of the walkway from the landing platform. Bail kept his eyes forward and tried to shove Obi-Wan out of his mind.
"Has Tia surfaced?"
Breha nodded. "She arrived yesterday."
"Have you spoken with her?"
"Not yet."
"I'll take care of it tomorrow." Bail glanced at his wife, feeling a little more settled now that he could focus on work. "The Council of Elders?"
She sighed. "I did my best. I'm afraid they were a bit testy and bucked about the appropriations for the refugees."
Bail patted her hand. "It wasn't as if we didn't know that was coming."
They moved into the palace. Bail's two aides, his personal secretary, and the household Chief of Security were waiting. He felt relieved to see them, to know he could avoid being alone with his wife, and it brought another stab of guilt.
"It looks like I have work to do." He turned to Breha and kissed her on the head. "I'll see you at dinner."
She smiled and put a hand to his cheek. "Don't overdo, my love."
Bail watched with a heavy heart as Breha turned and moved down the grand hallway toward the residential wing. This was the price of the choice he had made on Boz Pity. He was a fool to think that being with Obi-Wan could have brought him closure or end the love he had felt all these years. Somehow he had to manage this strange new double life, had to leave the man he thought he was behind, and embrace the man he had become.
The last of his virtue might be gone, but he could still protect the innocence of his wife.
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