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The dark figure scaled the smooth wall, finding purchase where there was none. It rose without hesitation, like a moon shadow, swift and silent. Fingers curled over a balcony ledge. The shadow sprang up, flipping to land softly on the balcony. It hovered before the darkened windows for a moment, then disappeared inside.
Obi-Wan ran his fingers over the comm console. The message had been sent. He'd be here soon. He glanced over his shoulder. The infrared beams were once again standing guard over the glass doors leading outside. The system had been ridiculously easy to circumvent. Should he mention it? He shrugged and padded across the room, sinking into one of the chairs in the conversation circle. He straightened and slipped his fingers under the leather sash, retrieving the lightsaber tucked against his spine. That was better. He relaxed against the padded chair, settling in to wait.
Six minutes later, Obi-Wan heard a quiet rustling in the hall. He flipped the lightsaber in his palm and brushed his thumb over the trigger. A smile flitted across his lips.
The door slid open. A silhouetted figure paused in the doorway, then reached for the light console. Obi-Wan flicked his finger and glow globes sprang to life around the room.
A startled Bail Organa stood blinking in the bright light. The Jedi reached out through the Force, closing and locking the door. Bail tightened the belt on his emerald dressing gown and gaped.
"Obi-Wan? Is it you?" Bail stumbled forward, grabbing a chair to steady himself.
"Well, it's not my ghost, Bail. Come sit before you fall."
Bail lurched across the room and fell into the chair facing Obi-Wan. The Jedi gave his friend a crooked smile. "You came."
Sputtering, Bail said, "Of course, I came. I was working at my desk ..."
"I knew you would be."
Bail glared for a micron, then continued, "When I get a comm saying nothing but, 'I told you so.' I traced the call to find it originated inside my own palace!" Anguish rolled across the Alderaanian's features. "Sithspawn. You were dead. For over three weeks we've been mourning ... I've been mourning ..."
"Was it a big funeral?" Obi-Wan swung his feet up and propped them on the low table in the center of the circle. He arched an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Blast it, Kenobi! This is no joke. Why didn't you contact me? Yoda? Someone!"
A sigh slipped passed the Jedi's lips. "Because for the first week I was dead. Or almost. And then I was healing. I didn't know if Vader was nearby, so I couldn't use the Force." Obi-Wan paused. "Blasted inconvenient, that."
"Welcome to the galaxy the rest of us inhabit, Kenobi. Didn't you have access to bacta?"
Obi-Wan rested a hand on his still tender ribs and shook his head. Bail cast him a sympathetic glance.
After a moment of silence, Bail asked, "Well? Aren't you going to tell me what happened? And why you have a bit of stubble instead of a beard? And why you are wearing a tunic that is so snug it is ripping? And why you are resting bare feet on my table?"
"Sandals don't work well for climbing walls."
"Obi-Wan ..."
"I'm sure you have better things to do in the middle of the night than listen to my tale of woe. Sleep, perhaps? A soft bed would be ... wonderful."
"I am quite beyond sleep, thanks to you. So, talk."
Obi-Wan shrugged his resignation. He told the story without interruption. His voice trailed to silence after he described his leap across the river. He found himself staring out a window, unsure as to when he'd started moving about the room. He turned to face his friend. Bail sat, fingers steepled, his gaze intent.
"So you have no idea what happened to Calder, his son, his people?" Bail's voice was gentle.
"I'm sure many died. But, no, I don't know." Darkness shadowed his thoughts.
"They didn't die for you, Obi-Wan. You know that, don't you? They died for the freedom we've all lost. You are simply a symbol of that freedom."
Obi-Wan avoided Bail's gaze and nodded.
Bail added, "I'm no Jedi, but even I can tell you left something untold."
Gazes locked. Obi-Wan said, "On the bridge of the Restoration, before I flew out to get myself blown up, I could sense that you were hiding something from me. You and Master Yoda."
Bail's gaze dropped.
Obi-Wan whispered, "Some things are not meant to be asked. Or told."
In the silence that ensued, Obi-Wan returned his stare to the night sky. He pressed his palm against the glass, relishing the cool touch. The words came of their own accord.
"Master Qui-Gon told me that each of us harbors, deep within, the capacity for doing great good ... or great evil. Every decision carries the seed of victory ... or defeat." Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder. "I have teetered on the abyss, Bail. I have looked into the dark night of my soul. And the truth was terrifying." Obi-Wan knew he needed to continue. He forced the thought out. "I have realized that I am just as capable as Anakin of turning to evil." He returned to his chair and perched on the edge of the seat, then picked up his lightsaber and wrapped his fingers around the hilt. He met Bail's unblinking gaze. "Master Yoda was right. The choice was Anakin's. And the choice is mine."
Bail leaned forward, elbows on knees. His voice was barely audible. "What do you choose, Obi-Wan?"
"The shadow within whispered to me. How easy it would be to crush Anakin's darkness with my own." Obi-Wan flipped his lightsaber to the side and powered it up. He watched the blue blade extend, remembering the green blade once wielded by his master. He flicked it off. "But if darkness usurps darkness, is the second even deeper, more impenetrable than the first?" He tossed the weapon to Bail. " I would sooner walk up to Anakin and let him cleave me in two with his lightsaber, than use evil to fight evil."
The air whooshed out of Bail. He slumped in his chair and frowned. "Don't ever scare me like that again, Kenobi."
Obi-Wan arched his eyebrows. "Believe me. I have no desire to put myself through such an ordeal, ever again."
"Yes. Well, I'm glad we didn't lose you. Either way."
"I told you before that I'm not so easy to kill." Obi-Wan paused. "I hope you didn't mind me coming here ... like this. Making you listen ... to this."
Bail blinked. "By the Republic, no, Obi-Wan. Probably the one and only time I'll ever be glad to have an 'I told you so' flaunted in my face."
The Jedi nodded. "Good. I, I could have gone to Yoda, but I needed ..." He started again, "I needed to be reminded of what was good and beautiful in the Republic. Alderaan has always done that for me. I needed to remember what we were fighting for. It's easy to forget when you are surrounded by death." By the Force, I'm starting to sound positively maudlin. Obi-Wan smiled. "Besides, didn't the good general once offer his refresher facilities?"
"To a fellow in desperate need, yes. I suppose you'll be wanting that soft bed you hinted at, as well?"
"Now that you mention it ..." The smile widened, crinkling out from Obi-Wan's eyes. "My usual quarters?"
Bail hesitated for a split second, then tossed the lightsaber back to Obi-Wan and grinned. "They're all yours. Just wash the dirt off in patches, so you don't clog the drain. Okay, Kenobi?"
The smile drooped a little. "Sure, Bail. Thanks."
The soft bed held no allure, after all. Obi-Wan leaned on the railing of the balcony that led off his bedroom and listened to the night sounds drifting up from the gardens. The palace gleamed in the moonlight.
It felt so good to be clean. Bail had procured comfortable clothing, even -- the miracle worker -- boots. Gloriously tall boots, with no possibility of exposure for heel or toe. The perfect fit. He might never take them off. Maybe for showers. But that was it.
At the bottom of the pile of clothing Bail had handed him, had been his cloak. Bail had kept it, though he couldn't explain why. Thank the Force. Obi-Wan lifted the hood over his head and tucked his hands into opposing sleeves. Comfort draped over his shoulders.
Yet sleep eluded him.
He had bared his soul to Bail. Purged the darkness. Still ... murky wisps of guilt and regret clung to the corners of his mind. Cobwebs he couldn't quite reach. If only. If only. He'd already trod this path with Master Yoda. A treadmill he couldn't seem to get off. I don't understand. How do I rise above my guilt? It seems to have become my lifeblood. My every act seeks to right the wrongs -- ones I committed, ones I allowed. I am haunted by a legion of regrets. If Master Qui-Gon had survived, Anakin would have turned out differently, and I ... I might have been allowed to express my love to Padme without fear of being ridiculed. His mind suddenly stopped churning. He had hurt her so badly when he'd torn her away from her life with Anakin, even if it had been for her own good. And taking her away had widened the gulf between him and Anakin. He knew now it could never be bridged. Not by him. And Padme would never thank him for what he'd done. Is that the thing that hurt more? That in saving her, he'd ruined his last possible chance for any kind of happiness? Was his own desire for love clouding his judgment?
Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught a movement, above and to the side. He peered out from his hood. His breath caught. Had his thoughts conjured her up?
Padme. No, the regal figure standing on Bail Organa's balcony was Amidala. Padme had disappeared forever when he'd whisked her off Naboo for the last time. Obi-Wan sank into the shadows and stared hungrily at the moonlit vision. The white dressing gown accented her porcelain skin. Dark tresses were swept from her face and left to tumble down her back, swaying below her waist. Despite her straight spine and uplifted chin, she looked wan. Vulnerable.
Obi-Wan swung onto the balcony railing and reached up for the first handhold. The night breeze picked up. It brushed his cheek, his ear. A deep, oh-so-familiar whisper rode the current. 'Let it go.' Obi-Wan pressed himself against the smooth wall and squeezed his eyes shut. I love you, Master. I couldn't even save you. 'Let it go.' I love her ... 'Let it go.'
Opening his eyes, Obi-Wan saw Bail step onto the balcony. He draped a blanket over Amidala's shoulders and squeezed. She leaned against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and looked down towards Obi-Wan's seemingly empty balcony. Bail kissed the top of Amidala's head and led her back inside.
The breeze tugged at Obi-Wan's straining fingers. He trembled, then let go, dropping back to the floor of his balcony. Curling into a tight ball, Obi-Wan fought to keep from shaking. Why didn't you tell me, Bail? Did you know how I felt? Did you ... fear me? A deep shudder ran along his spine. Master! Help me! The breeze ruffled Obi-Wan's cloak. 'Let it go.' Let what go!? 'All of it.' All? My hopes, my dreams, my regrets? ... My love? 'All of it.' I don't understand. 'Even that.'
The breeze died down and Obi-Wan was totally, utterly ... alone.
His breathing sounded deafening. It resounded through his being. He was surrounded by a ... a waiting -- expectant and enduring. Something unbidden rose up from within. Suddenly, his body was shaking with sobs. He tried to calm himself, but to no avail. Tears poured forth, bathing his face, filling his gaping mouth with salty brine and soaking his cloak. Tears of penance. Tears of cleansing.
When the last tear had fallen, Obi-Wan knew ... he knew, at last, what his master had known all along. You didn't need to understand the will of the Force to serve it. You didn't need to know why or where things had gone wrong, or where the fault lies. You only needed to trust. The will of the Force was striving for balance -- day by day, moment by moment. Only trust. And serve.
The waiting ended. The Force flooded Obi-Wan's innermost being, filling every nook with the luminescence of a supernova. He was bathed in a warmth and peace that surpassed anything in his memory. His soul exhalted. He gladly handed over everything that had ever hindered, and watched it dissipate harmlessly into the light.
And then there was only the light. Obi-Wan drifted in its embrace, never noticing when sleep stole over him.
The sun breaking over the horizon roused the Jedi, as its rays peeked through the balustrade to flash in his face. He rose stiffly, laughing at his complaining body. Pain is my friend. But not my only friend.
Obi-Wan reveled in the gold and pink dawn. The Republic's dawn would come. He had tasted that surety before. Now he drank in the knowledge in long draughts, like a man who'd stumbled out of the desert and discovered an oasis. In a way, he had.
Dawn would come. But he did not need to know how or when. And he did not need to be the one to make it come to pass.
Obi-Wan nodded in response to a whisper only he heard. He needed to say good-bye to Bail. He was finally ready to do the one thing he had dreaded. Now that the dread was gone ... he could face his Padawan. Come what may.
It was the will of the Force.
Thick white walls stood guard against the midday heat. Cool air stroked his cheeks as the old man pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked across the room. His long robes whispered against the hard-packed floor.
"Now let's see if we can't figure out what you are, my little friend. ... And where you come from." Ben patted the R2 unit's shiny dome and stepped aside to sit on a low-backed chair padded with a dark blanket. The boy's comment and his own reply were cut short as the robot beamed a blue hologram onto the round table at the Jedi's knees.
The small image shimmered with aching familiarity. Force help him, she looked like her mother; even sounded like her. He'd known about her, of course -- Bail and Amidala's daughter. Known that she'd taken Alderaan's senate seat at an even younger age than her father. Political savvy concealed beneath an innocent face. Truly her father's child. Emotions long buried erupted, cascading through Ben's mind. He stared at the holo, eyes glittering, his features schooled to stillness. Jealousy nibbled at the Jedi's resolve. He shunted it aside. Bail had been a good friend. And he had never known of Ben's feelings. It had all been such a long time ago.
Amidala's face filled his vision. He yearned to cup her jaw in his hand. To hold her close and shield her from all the hurt she'd experienced. Hurt that he'd caused her, even as he'd sought to save her. But she was beyond all pain now. Had been for ... what? ... twelve years? Had it really been that long? Sometimes it felt like twelve lifetimes. Amidala's visage faded as the holo of Princess Leia Organa leaned forward, then flicked off.
Ben resumed breathing and leaned back thoughtfully. He gripped his right elbow to quell a slight shaking, and twisted a bit of white beard in his right fingers. He glanced askance at Luke. The boy returned the look, seeing, no doubt, a time-worn old hermit. Would he ever have the courage to describe to Luke the warrior he'd been? Or the beloved Republic he'd lost? The burden of surviving had crushed his youth and vigor; Tatooine had eroded his body. But Obi-Wan still lurked inside, awaiting the right moment to re-emerge.
The Force whispered softly. It was time to return. Day was dawning.
Obi-Wan held Luke's gaze. "You must learn the ways of the Force, if you are to come with me to Alderaan."
