Master Apprentice Archive Journey of the Whills: Circle Shift, Part II Quick search:

Journey of the Whills: Circle Shift, Part II

by Flamethrower

Title: (Re-Entry) Journey of the Whills: Circle Shift, Part II

Author: Flamethrower

Archive: MA archive, my Archive, and AO3

Category: Q/O, AU

Summary: "The voice of change tends to be the voice of a martyr."

Warnings: None.

Spoilers: I use some things from the new Clone Wars cartoon, but not everything because their utter lack of disregard for canon even within the cartoon drives me nuts. But the rest of it is just too damn awesome not to use! Still, if you're not caught up and don't want to be spoiled, be warned: here there be dragons.

Note: This is a continuation of the Re-Entry series; if you're new to the story, I'd suggest you start at the beginning with the links below. This gets complicated. Really complicated.

Feedback: Is golden and treasured.

Thanks: Merry Amelie, mrs_stanley, and writestufflee, who are the finest damn betas a hack writer could ask for. Once again, they help whip my ramblings into shape.

Standard, well-abused Disclaimer:
"Rob? That's a naughty word, we never rob! We just... sort of borrow."
"Borrow? Boy, are we in debt!"

Series links:
Re-Entry (Complete)
&
Journey of the Whills:
Part 0: Prologue
Part 1: Beginning Anew
Part 2: Circle Shift, Part I
Part 3: Circle Shift, Part II
Part 4: Circle Shift, Part III

And if you want to avoid AO3, the wonderfully solid Master-Apprentice archive still has everything. (I do mean everything -- watch the summaries to avoid stumbling into other alternate universes!)

"Madame Nu, I assure you, I don't break holocrons," Obi-Wan said for what had to be the fifth or fiftieth time that morning. Don't make me pull rank, he thought, desperate not to have to resort to his new Council position to get what he wanted. He'd come to the Library first thing, skipping breakfast, on a dream-driven whim of an idea. Expecting resistance was a matter of course if Jocasta Nu was on duty instead of Yaddle or Tahl (who largely wasn't, thanks to her pregnancy), but he hadn't expected this level of noncooperation.

"Knight Kenobi, handling of the older holocrons is considered a risk at best, due to their extreme age," Madame Nu replied, doing her best to look down at him despite the fact that he was taller. He was used to her dislike; the older female Librarian tended not to like anyone but her own few surviving agemates. Today was different in a way that he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Therefore, it is generally granted that only senior Masters are allowed access to the ancient holocrons in our collection."

"I am aware of that, Madame Nu," he said, glad that today he was well-rested and thus not subject to fighting his temper. "But as I said, I am looking for a specific holocron in our collection, and the newer holocrons do not have the information I seek."

"You won't know until you conduct your research properly, young man," she sniffed.

You have no idea, Obi-Wan thought darkly. "As I have been pursuing this line of research for a year now, I assure you that I do have a properly established background," he said, lifting his chin. Fuck it. Charm hasn't worked. Logic isn't working. Time for brute force. "I have a busy morning ahead of me, Madame Nu. Now: I am going into the second vault, and I will be accessing Master Odan-Urr's holocron. I ask your courtesy in showing me into the vaults. If you don't, I will go in anyway, as I already have the codes. But Madame Nu, I am trying to be polite."

She narrowed her eyes. Success! he crowed inwardly, as she turned her back to him and began striding quickly in the direction of the vaults, not bothering to wait and see if Obi-Wan was keeping step with her.

Bythegods, Qui-Gon grumbled a moment later. Are you up and wreaking havoc at an obscenely early hour again?

Go back to bed, Obi-Wan replied, a soppy smile replacing the frown he'd given Jocasta Nu. I'll tell you later.

You'd better. Qui-Gon was asleep again in the next breath, which gave Obi-Wan a guilty twinge; his mate had put in a lot of effort, keeping Obi-Wan sane for the past few days. Hell, for the past year.

If it weren't for her decorum and desire not to damage anything in the Jedi Archives, Obi-Wan suspected that Jocasta Nu would be hammering the code into the inset panel for Vault Two. She led him inside, letting the door shut on pneumatic hinges before leading the way down the corridor. On each side of the aisle were rows and rows of locked drawers, with an occasional open junction that allowed access to workrooms, all of which were interconnected with the other vaults. The air was not just chilled but cold, and there wasn't enough humidity in the air to let his breath fog at his lips.

Jocasta Nu stopped and faced the left side of the vault aisle, only three rows short of the back wall. She pressed her thumb against the drawer five down from the top, then entered a code that she refused to let him see. Stupid, considering he knew the Council override codes that would let him into every container in the vault, but the senior Librarian was not giving him a centimeter more than she had been forced to concede.

The drawer rolled out on controlled rails, revealing a single, green-tinged crystal holocron nestled on a shock-absorbent cushion. Odan-Urr's holocron had only simple glyphs carved on each side of the pyramid; all together, the glyphs represented the Jedi Code... and more and more, it was a Code that Obi-Wan had trouble reconciling with what he knew of the Force. "There is no emotion, there is peace," he murmured, running his fingertip along the complex glyph line as he read the words.

Madame Nu sniffed again. "I suppose you'll want to see the Sith holocron he guarded, as well."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "That's quite an assumption, Madame Nu. Not only do I have no use for a Sith holocron, the ones in the Temple Archive collection are fakes."

"So I was informed." She glowered at him. "Absolute nonsense. We have had those Sith relics in our collection for a millennium. They are not fakes."

Ah, he thought, saddened. Obi-Wan had known there were would be Jedi in the Order who would refuse to believe the things he had revealed to the Council, or the Council's word as to the truth of those matters. It just seemed odd to realize that it was a Jedi Librarian who held such an inflexible point of view.

Then again, Jocasta had also refused to believe the Archive could have been tampered with, then or now. Tahl had found at least three instances of deleted entries so far. Jocasta Nu had barely deigned to acknowledge that fact.

"Thank you, Madame Nu. That will be all," he said, and stared back at the Librarian when Jocasta's glare intensified.

"I will remain here," she said firmly. "You have no experience with the Jedi holocrons, and will require tutelage."

There was no way in hell he was going to work with Jocasta Nu hanging over his shoulder. "That will be all," he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "I require privacy for my research." He paused, sensing that she didn't intend to budge. So much for that idea. "Councilor's privilege, Madame Nu," he said, voice soft.

Jocasta Nu's eyes widened; she hadn't expected him to play that card. "Of course, Knight Kenobi," she said, inclining her head in deference, though her words grated like metal over ice. "Let me know if you need anything further."

When the vault doors shut after her departure, Obi-Wan blew out a long breath and leaned against the storage stacks for a long moment. While Councilor rights were convenient, he hated to use them, and he'd just lost any chance of making an ally of Jocasta Nu.

Was there ever a chance? Really? he asked himself, and couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer.

There were no work tables in Vault Two, and he didn't want to go back to one of the junction rooms. He doubted he would be interrupted for several hours, though, especially with Librarian Nu now in a foul mood. He pitied any student who needed her help that morning.

Obi-Wan took the holocron from its drawer with careful fingers and sat down on the floor, back propped up against the opposite stack of drawers, holocron resting in his hand. "Hello, little Time Traveler," he murmured to the crystal. "We're quite alike in that respect, though you're far older than I am." He could feel the immense age of the holocron, like a thrumming in his bones.

Obi-Wan regarded it a moment longer before touching the sigils in the correct order, activating the crystal matrix. The holocron opened, the walls of the pyramid blooming like a flower. The emitter inside projected a small hologram barely a hand high. The green-washed image resolved into the form of an elderly Draethos.

"Greetings, Jedi Master," Odan-Urr's holocron intoned. Static jumped through the hologram, and the ancient Master's voice was filled with tight bursts of tinny, discordant squeals. Old, indeed, and possibly deteriorating past true usefulness. Not an auspicious start. The Tedryn Holocron worked flawlessly, but Odan-Urr was a mere gatekeeper on the other holocron. This was the holocron the ancient Master had imprinted himself upon. "What knowledge do you seek?"

"Greetings, Odan-Urr," Obi-Wan replied. Even programmed entities were more forthcoming if you were polite to them. "I am looking for a friend of yours, Master Ood Bnar."

"Ah," the Draethos said, and seemed to be amused. "Have you tried his holocron? I am given to understand it is only several drawers away from my own."

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head, fighting a smile. "I mean the real Master Ood Bnar, not his holocron."

"Ah," Master Urr said again. He tilted his head, as if mimicking curiosity. "My internal chrono might have deteriorated with the passage of time, but I am certain he must be one with the Force by now. It has been a very long time, even if he was a Neti."

"I was given very specific information that he has not," Obi-Wan said, settling more comfortably against the cold tile and chilled metal drawers. "Conventional means of finding him have failed, and if he is in a hibernation trance, the nature of his species precludes the ability to find him in the Force. I was hoping that, given your lifelong friendship, you might be able to give me a clue as to his whereabouts."

"If Master Bnar is to be found anywhere, he will be found in the Library," the Draethos said promptly.

"Yes, well. Ossus is no longer home to the library because of the Cataclysm," Obi-Wan said, biting back a sigh of frustration.

"Ah. Yes. True enough. But young Master, that is all I know to tell you. If Master Bnar is to be found, he will be found in the Library."

The hologram shifted; Odan-Urr copied Obi-Wan's pose and settled himself in a cross-legged position. "I am only a metaphysical imprint of Odan-Urr, but I sense that you have something that belonged to me."

Obi-Wan lifted his head in surprise. "Yes. An archeological team found the remains of one of your lightsabers buried in the ruins of the Library on Ossus. Our resident crystal fiend gifted the crystals to me."

"Yes, that would be why. Talkative crystals, always talking. It was almost a relief to retire that blade," Odan-Urr said, a faint smile on his face.

"Why was your lightsaber stored in the Library?" Obi-Wan asked, curious.

"Everyone was in such a hurry to upgrade to power cell lightsabers," the old Master said, shaking his head. "When I was a young Knight, they ran off of battery packs. Not much reach if your blade is attached to a cable attached to a battery pack. No fancy tricks with throwing your lightsaber around, not then. But the power cell technology became small enough, powerful enough, that we didn't need battery packs anymore. A power cell every six months was all a Jedi needed. Five hundred years after this innovation, the historians realized we had almost no examples remaining of the old battery-pack lightsabers. I was happy to donate my old blade to the cause of preserving that part of our history." He laughed. "The younglings didn't know how good they had it."

Obi-Wan had a faint memory of seeing an illustrated example of a battery-and-cable lightsaber in a long-ago history class. "I do believe we might be spoiled. Now our power cells last at least fifteen years, even with heavy use."

"That's all?" Master Urr said, surprising Obi-Wan yet again. "How strange. I would think, given the rate of advancing technology during my time, that your power cells would last far longer. Hmm." The holographic image closed his eyes. "Sith again, is it? Somehow, I am not surprised. The last time someone accessed my holocron, a Sith war was brewing."

The last time... "Master Odan-Urr, that was a thousand years ago," Obi-Wan said, momentarily horrified. No one had touched this holocron in all that time? No wonder the matrix had degraded! He made a note to speak to Tahl; as one of the senior Librarians in the Temple, she needed to know about the lack of care, the potential loss of information.

"Was it? A pity." The Master sighed. "Thank goodness I am an imprint and not a true spirit, or that would have been a very boring time. Have you ever been to Ossus, young Master?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. I've never been."

"You should go. The Library is a fine, wonderful place. My own collection would be quite useful to you."

This time he did sigh; the degradation was worse than he'd thought. "Master Odan-Urr, the Cataclysm destroyed the Library on Ossus."

"Did it? Oh, dear. I think some of my data is corrupted." The Master chuckled. "It is not a surprise, given that I composed this holocron during my sixth century. I hope the energy cell powering the matrix can be repaired."

"I am hopeful that it can be; the deterioration isn't that bad, yet." Obi-Wan hesitated. He wanted to ask the next question, but Odan-Urr was well-known for his views on the Force. "Master Odan-Urr, I was once told the Code of the Sith by a Sith holocron almost as ancient as yours. It is much like a mirror to the Jedi Code that you created. Given certain things I have learned and witnessed, I have come to wonder if the views on the Force you espoused might have given the Sith a means of leverage against the Jedi."

"It is the way of the Sith to try to twist the way of the Force, to tempt Jedi into their ranks," the hologram said flatly. "My attempts at simplifying the Code were meant to combat the lure of the Dark Side."

Simplifying? "What was the code when you were young, then?" Obi-Wan asked, trying not to frown. "I know that the Code the Order knows today was formalized sometime after the Great Sith War, but I wasn't aware that anything pre-dated it."

Odan-Urr got up from his seated position, shifting in place as if he were restless. Odd behavior for a hologram, even a Jedi hologram. "The Code I was taught as a young man is very, very old, so old that we have no memory of its creation." He seemed to hesitate. "As a young Knight, I fought in the very first war against the Sith, when they emerged from unknown systems bent on conquering the Republic. As we defended Empress Teta against the Sith incursion, I found myself facing off against my fellow Jedi, as well. They had been consumed by Darkness, and I wondered at how they had fallen so far, so quickly. I came to believe that the Jedi needed a stronger tenant to follow than the old Code. It was said many times that I was wrong, but it seems my words still hold sway while those long ago voices are silenced." Urr shook his head. "To be fair to myself, I did not compose my interpretation of the Code with the intent that it be the only voice for the Jedi to listen to. It was meant to be a helpful tool, a treatise." The hologram paused, static freezing the image before it resumed. "This is the Code as it was known for thousands of years:



Emotion, yet peace.

Ignorance, yet knowledge.

Passion, yet serenity.

Chaos, yet harmony.

Death, yet the Force."



Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "And it's yours that is considered the simplified version?" he asked, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

"The irony is not lost on me, young Master," Odan-Urr's hologram grumbled. "The Code was open to much interpretation. My vision of the Code was meant to help Jedi who were uncertain as to what the Force demanded of them. A harsher treatise, to be sure, but it would have been a building block for those having trouble mastering their thoughts and feelings."

"And what was once a stepping stone became the only stone," Obi-Wan said softly. He had once told Anakin (screamed it, really) that only a Sith dealt in absolutes. Yet the Order had been, and still was, just as guilty of such inflexibility. "Once upon a time, I would have agreed with our current version of the Code wholeheartedly. But I can't do that any longer."

"Why?" Odan-Urr asked, tilting his head again in curiosity.

"I understand the intent of what you did," Obi-Wan said, composing his answer with care. Blasphemy seemed to be his watchword in the past five years, and this was a conversation that he didn't even think Master Yoda was ready for. "But the version of the Code that you wrote... I have seen it used as an excuse for stricter interpretations, rigid rules, and ever-tightening controls, to the point that it has brought the Jedi Order to stagnation. We're literally in danger of extinction, Master Odan-Urr. What do we do, then, when we have a Code that has served its purpose, but no longer? How does the Order let go of something that has defined them for over four thousand years?"

The image seemed to sigh. "I have no answers for you, young Master. You ask questions that would have been difficult to confront even in my time. If these are genuinely truths that need to be said, then you will have to be the voice that speaks them. Even if your fellows turn away, ears covered."

"I don't want to be that voice," Obi-Wan whispered, feeling his stomach tighten. Not fair, he thought, but that was a ridiculous notion. There was no such thing as fair. He'd known that for a long, long time.

"Then you are a wise man," Odan-Urr replied, nodding. "The voice of change tends to be the voice of a martyr. You will have to trust in the Force, young Master, and it will lead you to the right path. Perhaps not the path you wish for, but the one that is needed, nonetheless. My power cells are running low," the hologram explained as it began to lose form. "I must shut down for maintenance. Thank you for speaking to me, young Master. I hope you find my friend."

"Thank you for your time, Master," Obi-Wan replied, watching as the holocron sealed itself once more.