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Title: "For the Record" by Quiller
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I am only dipping my pen in George's inkwell. No credits, Republic or otherwise, have been exchanged.
Description: Obi-Wan in disgrace. When I first saw that haunting E2 picture of Obi-Wan, head down, cloak pulled close, I wondered what could possibly bring him to ruin, if indeed, that is what the picture suggests. Though Obi-Wan's fate in this story is entirely my own creation, it is set solidly in E2 and hints strongly of E2 story lines. Don't read it if spoilers are an issue for you.
Only a few small items remained to be packed. A quiet tap at the door pulled Obi-Wan away from his task. He swept his hair back from his brow and shook himself out of his robotic state as he crossed the room. The door retracted into the wall to reveal a small quivering child. Obi-Wan knelt before the anxious initiate with a puzzled frown. The dark-skinned boy stepped back, black eyes growing round with fear.
Obi-Wan cleared his brow. "Don't let fear control you, child. Push it aside and face your fears boldly." He softened the statement with a smile.
The boy swallowed hard, nodded and straightened up to stare Obi-Wan in the face. The Jedi fought to keep the frown from returning. The child was afraid of him? Bad news couldn't possibly travel that fast.
"There's no need to fear me, little one. Who told you what happened?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
"W-we all watched the judgment, s-sir."
That explained the oddly empty hallways when he'd made his way back to his quarters. Obi-Wan squelched the irritation that flared. Nothing had been said about the tribunal being broadcast. Had it just been within the Temple, or had the whole of Coruscant witnessed his downfall? Obi-Wan returned his attention to the still quaking youngster.
"So what do you want?" He couldn't keep the gruffness from his voice, and cringed when the child shrank back again.
"I, I ..." The boy took a breath and hitched himself up. "M-master Yoda sent me. He asks that you see him before you go. He said he'd be in his usual meditation spot."
Before Obi-Wan could commend him on his bravery, the boy wheeled around and fled. Obi-Wan stood and scowled at the swiftly retreating back. He had looked to Yoda to defend him during the tribunal, at least marginally. It had stung that the Jedi Master hadn't said a word. What could he possibly have to say now?
Obi-Wan returned to his packing, stuffing the last few items into his bag carelessly. He retreated to the bedroom and emerged a few minutes later in the civilian garb he'd found on his bed when he'd returned to the apartment. He fingered the cuff of the dark blue tunic with its white neckline, sand colored surcoat, and matching blue breeches, unable to recall a time when he hadn't been garbed in Jedi browns. He adjusted the belt, his hand brushing over his lightsaber, clipped where it always hung. With a sigh, he rolled up his Jedi garments and squeezed them into the bag, fastening the bulging pack on the second try.
The temptation to linger until Anakin returned was strong. Obi-Wan's gaze swept over the apartment, memorizing each detail. At the sight of Anakin's most recent reclamation project -- a half assembled med-droid -- an overwhelming sadness began to swell inside and Obi-Wan knew he couldn't bear to wait; he had to leave before his strength deserted him. He closed his eyes and projected his thoughts outward. The Force be with you, Anakin.
His boots -- his Jedi boots -- rang out loudly over the polished floors as Obi-Wan approached the Room of a Thousand Fountains where Yoda was waiting for him. He was already tiring of the stolen glances, the faces turning away, the endless display of backs. Would these forever be the reactions he met with? Force give me strength.
As he stepped through the archway into the fountain room, a flash of salmon and Jedi brown caught his eye. He dropped his pack just as his childhood friend, Bant, threw herself into his arms. The Mon Calamari Jedi sobbed uncontrollably against his chest, soaking his tunic.
"Shhh, shhh," Obi-Wan soothed as he stroked her back. "It's okay, Bant."
"How can you say that?" Bant cried, then returned to her weeping.
Obi-Wan held her at arm's length and injected a mock sternness into his voice. "Calm yourself. Look at this mess. The first new tunic I get in ages, and you're going to ruin it before I get out of the Temple."
Bant's large watery eyes blinked. She sniffled. "How can you joke about this, Obi-Wan?"
He rested his knuckles against her cheek. "You know how much I hate tears." Her eyes shimmered dangerously. "Oh, no. Don't you dare start up again. I'm running a little low on jokes today, I'm afraid."
"Oh, Obi-Wan." Bant slipped into his embrace again. He held her tightly, resting his chin on her head. He sighed softly.
"Please, please promise me this won't destroy you. I couldn't bear it," Bant whispered.
"It won't," Obi-Wan replied. "I already promised Qui-Gon I'd do what I must." If only I knew what that was. He forced cheeriness into his voice. "Believe it or not, many people live happy, productive lives beyond the walls of the Temple."
"Don't make light."
An easy request to fill, my friend. Obi-Wan let the silence speak for him as he crushed her against his chest. He brushed her mind with the Force and pulled away.
Bant clasped his wrists and searched his face. "Please keep in touch."
Obi-Wan smiled sadly and kissed her forehead. "That's a promise I'll gladly keep, my friend." He picked up his bag and strode away, her gaze boring into his back until he rounded a corner.
Yoda was waiting for him, just as he'd said. As Obi-Wan approached the grotto created by giant ferns and sided by a gentle brook, he felt the Jedi Master's deeply worried scrutiny. He wondered why Yoda would bother to lower his own shields at this point. He met the concerned gaze with one he knew to be artificially calm. He hoped this numbness could somehow last a lifetime, but knew it would wear off sooner or later, and then, ... then he would most likely crumble.
Obi-Wan dropped to sit cross-legged before the Jedi Master. He waited. Yoda wanted to talk. Let him talk. The silence extended until the diminutive green Jedi squirmed slightly and looked away.
"Glad, I am, that you came," Yoda began. "Afraid, I was, that you would not. To be expected, is your scorn." He sighed. "Deserve it, I do. We all do. Succumbed to fear, we did." His voice grew strident. "Blackmailed us, the Senate did. With no subtlety. With no shame. Threatened to strike a committee to investigate and stymie the whole Order, they did. Feelings run strong against the Jedi right now."
Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to his upturned palms. He didn't want to hear justifications. And he certainly didn't want to hear the pain lacing Yoda's confession. He resisted the gentle nudging in the back of his mind. He squeezed back the moisture blurring his vision and deliberately dropped his shields, letting his utter unrelieved anguish steamroll over Yoda for a moment, then corralled his emotions and shut them back inside. In the pulverizing stillness, he heard Yoda's rattled breathing and felt the tiniest grain of remorse. His gaze remained glued to his hands.
Yoda's voice shook. "Forgive me, Obi-Wan. Please forgive me, so forgive myself, I may."
Obi-Wan covered his face with his hands and ground his palms into his eyes. He refused to weep like a babe. As a child, he had loved Yoda dearly; as a man he had respected him deeply. It couldn't come to this. Torn apart by fear and unforgiveness. It couldn't be the will of the Force. He cried out silently for some kind of reprieve. Aloud, he croaked, "Why?"
"Justice had to be seen to be done."
"Justice!" Obi-Wan jerked his head up and lashed out as he glared at Yoda. "There was no justice done today -- the galaxy was entertained by a mock court and given the chance to scoff at the Jedi. Your justice is a travesty. Today, chaos gained a foothold in the heart of serenity. All because the Council gave in to fear. You gave in to the Dark Side. You. Not me. I can feel its laughter vibrating through my soul. Can't you feel the darkness surging round about us?"
"For a long time now, have I felt the gathering storm." Yoda's voice was quiet and full of strength, pulling Obi-Wan up short. He scanned the Jedi Master's countenance with its narrowed eyes, compressed lips and level bat-wing ears. Yoda continued, "Searched endlessly for the source of this disturbance, I have, but find it, I cannot. Failed the Jedi, I have. Failed you, I have."
"You believe me." The burden lifted almost imperceptibly.
"Never, for a single moment, did I doubt. A Jedi you were. A Jedi you remain."
"And the others?"
"Know in their hearts that you speak the truth, they do. Easier, it was, to sacrifice you than to face the wrath of the Senate. Crushed Mace, it did, to head up that hearing."
Obi-Wan sighed. Small comfort that is. He reached deep into his bag, pulled out a lightsaber, bold and simply styled, and laid it reverently at the Jedi Master's feet. He unclipped his own weapon and laid it beside the first. He stared at them. Master and Padawan, together again. He closed his eyes and a kaleidoscope of memories spun through his mind -- green and blue blades clashing in an endless parade of sparring sessions; sweat and laughter and pain mixed together in a heady ambrosia of remembrance. He opened his eyes to find that Yoda's image had blurred again.
Throat convulsing, Obi-Wan whispered, "Qui-Gon's blade. And mine. The Council neglected to ask for them earlier. Or perhaps I fled before Mace had the chance. I am no longer a Jedi Knight. I have no right to a blade." He ran his fingers over the hilts, then pushed them towards Yoda. "Take them."
Triumph filled Yoda's reply. "Told them, I did, that do this, you would. Full of honor, you are, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And full of Light."
Puzzlement clouded Obi-Wan's thoughts. He blinked, taken aback by Yoda's odd reaction. "What are you talking about, Master?"
Yoda lifted his chin and arched his brows, deepening the furrows lining his forehead. "Demanded, I did, that if you gave up your blades unasked, let you keep them, the Council would."
"I ... don't understand. You're not taking the lightsabers from me? Either of them?"
"Of course not. A Jedi you were. A Jedi you remain."
"How can that be?" Obi-Wan asked himself.
Yoda tapped him with his gimmer stick. "Born that way, you were."
Obi-Wan gaped at Yoda's horrible attempt at jesting. Was he going crazy? Was Yoda going crazy? The Jedi Master seemed suddenly happy to see him leaving. He slowly slid each lightsaber into his bag and tightly secured the fasteners, all the while eyeing Yoda warily.
"I'd better go," Obi-Wan said as he rose.
"No. No." Yoda poked his thigh with the gimmer stick again. "Stay, you must. Know something, you must."
Obi-Wan sighed. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Yoda. But it's been a Hutt-awful day. I'm dead on my feet and I don't even have a bed to collapse on."
Yoda paused. "Received the credits, you did?"
"The credit chip is in my pocket. The Jedi retirement plan leaves a lot to be desired."
Yoda pursed his lips, then his expression lightened. "Sit. Sit. One minute more."
The niggling began at the back of his mind again. This time Obi-Wan didn't fight it. He sank to his knees and sat back on his heels. Energy leaked from his pores as he watched Yoda perk up and cap the top of his infernal stick with both of his taloned hands. His eyes drooped closed as he waited for Yoda to speak.
"The Force's will, this is," declared Yoda.
Obi-Wan's eyes sprang open. He stared aghast at the Jedi Master. Yoda's ears lowered. "Look at me like that, you will not. Walked in the path of Light when you gave the order to fire, you said. Felt the certainty as you feel your cloak, you said." He leaned forward, green eyes sparking. "Know you this, Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Force it was, that held my tongue in that hearing. The Force it was, that refused to let me speak as decided judgment, we did." Yoda paused dramatically. Obi-Wan frowned at his obvious enjoyment of the moment. The Jedi Master sat back and proclaimed, "Wants you out of the Temple, the Force does."
"Why?" Obi-Wan blurted.
Yoda scowled. "Know this, I do not. But look inside. Know it to be true, you must."
Obi-Wan gave him a dubious look. He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He exhaled slowly, then inhaled calm. The Force had been his strength all day and it hovered closely. As he opened his senses, the luminous essence cocooned him and filled him with growing conviction. The same conviction he'd felt when he'd destroyed that cloning facility, and with it, unwittingly, his future. The future he thought he'd had. Now he sensed a new path unfolding before him. Apart from the Order. But still a Jedi. A smile touched his lips. He focused his eyes and stared fondly into Yoda's knowing gaze.
"You really enjoy being right, you old troll."
Yoda harumphed. "A troll, I am not. When 878 years old you reach --"
"Look this good, I will not," Obi-Wan finished the statement, laughing at Yoda's overly stern visage. "Thank you, Yoda. You always could put things into perspective for me."
One ear twitched. "Forgiven, I am?"
Obi-Wan smiled sadly at the tentative tone. "There was never anything to forgive. You did what you had to do."
"Of course," Yoda agreed. "And do as you must, you certainly will."
Obi-Wan's smile fell away as he nodded. "Force, but it hurts, Master. This is the only home I've ever known. The Jedi are the only family I've ever known."
"Ah. So admit, you do, that related to trolls, you are."
A smile returned to tug at one corner of Obi-Wan's mouth. "I'll miss you, Yoda."
Yoda's cheerfulness disappeared. "Miss me, you will not. Keep in contact, we must. On this, all depends. Coming, the storm is, and prepare, we must."
Obi-Wan frowned. "I fear for Anakin. How will he fare in all of this? He's very vulnerable right now and this day hurt him terribly. I failed him, Master. He holds the Council in such contempt. How can I walk away with his trust so battered and his training unfinished?"
"If the Chosen One, he is, balance will come, no matter what we do."
Obi-Wan let his breath leak out slowly. "I wish I had the purity of faith Qui-Gon possessed."
"Few are those, whose lives are consumed by the Living Force. An honor it was, to train him, and then watch him train you." Yoda narrowed his eyes. "Terrible, you look. Go. Rest."
Obi-Wan scanned the green face. Yoda was right. It was time to go. He stood and flung the pack over his shoulder.
"The Force be with you, Obi-Wan."
"And with you, Yoda." He started to turn away and paused. "Tell Mace the same for me?"
Yoda's ears raised. He nodded. Obi-Wan bowed low and walked away without looking back.
At a side entrance to the Temple, Obi-Wan hesitated, sadness shrouding him once again. Force, this is so hard. Will it ever stop hurting? He retrieved his cloak from the bag and slipped it on. It settled over his form with a sigh. Obi-Wan re-adjusted the pack and pulled his hood close around his face. He retreated into the anonymity of its comforting shadows and stepped into the waning daylight. Don't look back. Forward only flows the Force. Keeping his gaze lowered, Obi-Wan left the Temple for the last time.
