Master Apprentice
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Category: A/U, Romance, Angst
Rating: R (for adult themes)
Spoilers: For all movies, including TPM, and the JA books.
Archive: Nowhere right now, thanks. :-)
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, we don't. Damn.
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EXILES SERIES: In an alternate universe set fifteen years after the events in The Phantom Menace, two Jedi live in hiding on the desert planet of Tatooine, awaiting a child's destiny. Will they survive to see a new hope come to fruition?
JOURNALS -- BOOK FIVE: The Journal of Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi -- Anger takes hold, as Anakin's training continues.
Standard Date 1897319-19874
The Temple at Coruscant
I've decided that I am not the best teacher for Anakin. I found Anakin between classes and sat him down in a private corner of the Apprentice hall.
"What would you think, Ani, if Obi-Wan were to become your only Master?" Softly.
Anakin studied me, frowned. "You don't want me as a student any more?"
I ruffled his hair. "That's not it at all, I promise. You and Obi-Wan have developed a very strong bond, and you know, I'm getting older, I may not be the best teacher for you."
He kept looking at me. "Would you go away, then?"
"No, no, of course not." I smiled a little. "Obi-Wan and are are lifebonded, you know. I'd still be there to tease you, Ani. And to help in any way that you needed. I just wouldn't be your Master."
He considered that. "But you won't go away. That would make Obi-Wan unhappy."
I forced another smile. "I won't," I agreed, although today I wonder how unhappy it would make Obi-Wan.
Ah, self-pity is an ugly thing.
At any rate, I have spoken to Yoda and Mace, and while surprised, they agreed.
Perhaps they realize that it is the best decision. I'm sure they're as aware of my weaknesses as anyone, and there's a cynical sort of feeling I have that they think Obi-Wan is less . . . convinced of Anakin's destiny.
But that's an ignoble thought, and I try not to dwell on it. Besides, little do they understand Obi-Wan if he thinks that they are in agreement with him.
I have yet to tell Obi-Wan, and I feel an unaccountable dread at the thought. He should be relieved, I think, and I can't be sure why I've delayed.
I suppose it's because I'm no longer certain of what's happening between us. Imagine, at my age, being as uncertain as ever I was in my youth.
It's quite depressing, really.
Standard Date 1879183-81272
The Temple at Coruscant
Anakin told Obi-Wan.
And now, of course, we have quarreled.
In vain, I tried to explain my reasons to him, but he was hearing nothing I said, he all but shouted at me.
I finally told him calmly that it was pointless to argue, it was done, he is Anakin's master, as he would have been had I died.
He went white, and strode out of our quarters. Somehow, I don't think he'll be back tonight.
Anakin apologized when I put him to bed. "I didn't think he'd be angry, Master Qui-Gon."
I smiled at him, but it was rather weary. "I know, Ani. I didn't quite expect it myself."
After all, it has been apparent for some time that he feels I'm not quite up to training the boy. I simply haven't wanted to admit that to myself or face it, and the fact is--the fact is that he may well have been right.
I'm not sure where his anger is coming from, but it's not for me to judge. He has to find it for himself.
Anakin was somber, gazing up at me. "I'm sorry anyway."
I ruffled his hair. "Not your fault, Ani. If it's anyone's, it's mine, I should have told him after I spoke to you. I shouldn't have delayed."
"Is that why he was angry?"
I thought about it. "It may be, Ani. It's hard for me to tell. Obi-Wan is a good master, but he might also feel that he's not experienced enough to be a good master." I smiled and touched the tip of Anakin's nose. "Which is silly, I think, but he may not see it that way."
"He's the best Master," Anakin said stoutly.
I felt a pang at that, wholly unjustified, but smiled anyway. "He is, I think. Go to sleep, Ani, he'll meditate on his anger and be back soon."
"All right." Anakin shifted and curled around his pillow. "Good night, Master Qui-Gon."
"Good night, Ani," I told him and left him to sleep.
But Obi-Wan hasn't returned yet, and when he does, I'm not sure what to say.
I believe I'll take the coward's path and simply go to bed.
Standard Date 187917-18718
The Temple at Coruscant
Obi-Wan returned far sooner than I'd expected, although the heat of his temper had changed to coolness. I tried to explain to him my concerns, my fears, and I'm afraid I sounded like a worried old man. He looked at me, his face expressionless, when I told him that I feared he was right, that I was not the best teacher for the boy, looked at me and didn't speak.
"I'm right," he repeated, sounding angrier than ever. "How can I be right when that wasn't my opinion? What's happening to us?"
I looked away. The truth is, I have no idea. Perhaps wanting something is not the same as having it, an ancient truism that seems to be coming regrettably true. "Obi-Wan, you have shown me in a hundred ways since our return that you doubt me. And I'm not certain that you aren't right to do so." I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Anakin's training bond with you is far stronger, Obi-Wan. That in itself is enough to make the decision for me."
He scowled and folded his arms. "You're imagining things."
"Perhaps." I was too tired, I thought, to be having this conversation. "Perhaps we should discuss this in the morning when tempers have cooled."
His scowl deepened. "Are you all right?"
I managed to smile. "Well, I'm not happy that we're quarreling, but other than that, I'm fine." It wasn't quite a lie. The wound still pains me now and again, hence the restricted duty, but mostly, I feel very fit. "And I'm tired, that's all."
He came and sat down on the edge of the bed beside me. "All right, we'll discuss this in the morning."
I nodded morosely. "Yes." But it was difficult to find the impetus to move. I sighed again, looked at the toes of my boots.
Suddenly, there was a hand on my cheek. "You aren't all right," Obi-Wan told me accusingly. "Are you?"
"I'm just tired," I told him irritably. "I don't want to quarrel with you, and I don't like going to bed when things are unresolved, but I'm too tired to argue tonight."
His expression softened slightly. "I don't like it either. You aren't my master any more, Qui, you've got to stop making unilateral decisions."
I sighed again. "Certainly."
Another frown. "Get in bed, I'll check on Anakin and be right back."
I nodded, finally pushed myself to get up as he left the room.
He's asleep now, but in sleep, at least, he forgives me. I woke to find him close, his arm over my waist, and while it does ease my heart, it resolves nothing.
Perhaps he's right, perhaps there is something wrong with me. I dither, and I've never been one for dithering.
It's time to see the healers, I think.
Standard Date 287917-19713
The Temple at Coruscant
I woke early this morning. While Obi-Wan still slept, I got up and dressed and went to the infirmary.
I suppose the good news is that I'm physically in fairly good health. Not perfect health. According to Artag, the physician on duty, I'm pushing myself too hard for a man of middle years who nearly died after being skewered by a Darkside saber.
My heart rhythm isn't quite what it ought to be, he says, and my blood pressure is higher than it ought to be as well.
I told him that's not why I'd come, that I was feeling the need for an appointment with one of the soulhealers. Rather irritably, too, I'm afraid, but after all, I'd borne with having to strip and submit to the physical.
He nodded and hummed while he considered. "This afternoon at 15:73, healer G'vra is free, I think she will do." A keen look. "Experiencing malaise, eh. Well, you came close enough to death, and even Jedi can experience a bit of disequilibrium in such circumstance."
I nodded back, repressing the urge to say something sharp.
When I returned, it was still early, Obi-Wan was in the 'fresher and Anakin was yawning and making tea.
I bid him good morning, ruffled his hair and took over the task, taking a moment to pour him a glass of juice.
"But I'm supposed to make the tea."
I winked. "I won't tell if you don't."
He offered me a sleepy smile and drank his juice.
Obi-Wan emerged then, clad in his nightrobe. He gave me a long look. "Where were you so early, then?" With suspicious mildness.
I shrugged. "I went to make an appointment for this afternoon with soulhealer G'vra."
That got a strange look, I can tell you. I poured him a cup of tea. "What sounds good for breakfast?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Pannish," Anakin said happily. "We have some, I picked it up from the hall yesterday."
I arched an eyebrow at Obi-Wan, who nodded absently and sipped his tea.
I can't tell you how relieved I was.
Now there is only this afternoon to dread.
Standard Date 187991-2788
The Temple at Coruscant
The session with G'vra was fruitful.
No, I sit here, watching Anakin and Obi-Wan in the kitchen and consider that phrase and I must admit that fruitful is not precisely the word I want.
Grueling comes to mind.
If Obi-Wan has not realized that he doubts me, neither did I want to face the possibility that I doubted him.
If one clone can be created, why not two? If I can be replicated, why not Obi-Wan? Why not any of us?
I must either trust everyone, or mistrust everyone, and as G'vra pointed out very gently, that way lies true madness.
I have not allowed myself to even think of such things.
I must have looked dreadful upon my return, Obi-Wan immediately sent me out to the terrace and Anakin shortly brought me some tea.
I summoned enough composure to ask Anakin about his day, and he solemnly reported on his classes, and his lightsaber training while I tried to listen and make noises of approval in the right places.
The strain, they tell me, is what wears upon my heart and blood pressure. I am strictly forbidden to continue my research, but that is a stricture I cannot obey. There are things I must know.
How deep can the replication go? Can it reproduce the strength of a bond that did not exist in the clone naturally?
No, G'vra tells me, no and no again, and I do believe her. Of necessity, I must, or doubt Obi-Wan's reality.
He faced the clone without allies, there in that dark street. My heart insists that he is still my Obi-Wan, my beloved. But my mind knows far too much about Sith subtlety, and not quite enough about the science they used.
No, that's unfair, he is my beloved, and it's my own weakness, my own self-doubt. I had not dared consider that I myself might not be who I think I am. Can clones be implanted with memories of the original?
I am assured otherwise, and G'vra looks concerned for me.
Small wonder. After today, I begin to wonder if I am, in fact, losing my sanity as well as my health.
They're cooking dinner, and even in my current state, the aromas are tantalizing.
Obi-Wan. My beloved. Forgive me this lunacy. It needed to be brought out before I could begin to face it.
But I keep thinking, any member of the Order could be replicated if, in fact, the forbidden science has been revived.
I can't stop thinking.
My beloved. He is my beloved. I could not seem to eat, and apologized for my lack of appetite.
Anakin regarded me with wide eyes, yet Obi-Wan treated it as if it were quite ordinary. "You may want something later, then," he murmured and whisked the dish away. "I'll just put it in the warmer in that event."
I felt almost pathetically grateful. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. I believe I'll..." And for a moment, I couldn't think what I could do, what I should do.
A hand pressed gently on my shoulder. "Why don't you just sit and enjoy your tea. I'll see Ani gets ready for bed, and then I'll join you."
I felt something along our bond, affection, worry, I'm not sure what else. But it was Obi-Wan, not some impostor, and I looked up at him, put my hand over his briefly. "I'll be fine," I assured him, seeing that worry in his eyes.
He bent quickly and brushed his mouth over mine very lightly before guiding Anakin out of the room.
"What's the matter with him," I heard Anakin ask.
"I don't know." Quietly. "But I will, Ani, I promise you."
For a moment, my vision blurred. He is my Obi-Wan, I must hold to that certainty, even if I am certain of nothing else.
I used to give thanks to the Force for opening my heart to Obi- Wan back when he was still but a young padawan, still green and eager to be of use to a master who began their association more distant than a boy deserved. Now, I give thanks to the Force for granting me his love.
I still can't sleep, although it's not through any lack in his ministrations. He sleeps in the bed behind me, my beloved, andn ever have I been gladder to have him there.
Once Anakin was duly occupied getting ready for bed, he came back to the kitchen and sat quietly at the table, sipping his tea for a time.
I confess, I'd been expecting him to open the subject of our quarrel, and he did, but not in the way I'd expected.
"I think we've been communicating somewhat at cross purposes, Qui," he finally told me softly. "Both of us misunderstanding the other." One corner of his mouth lifted. "A soulbond doesn't precisely mean we can read each other's minds, after all."
I found myself laughing rustily. "No, that's true," I agreed. "For my contributions to that, beloved, I sincerely am sorry."
Rueful smile. "As I am. I have my own fears, you know. I'm still just a padawan, somewhere in the back of my head, and I'm terrified to have the full responsibility for Anakin's training."
I reached out and put a hand over his.
"Well, you have me at your side, for whatever that's worth." I tried to smile again, but my doubts had not diminished. "And I will always give you the best advice that I know. In the long run, I trust your instincts." More than mine, I thought, but didn't add.
He turned his hand palm upward, laced his fingers with mine. "That's worth a great deal, Qui--I don't doubt you, I swear, I don't. I worry about Anakin, you know, I remember what it was like for me, and I didn't come to it late."
I swallowed hard, looked into my cup. Nodded. "But you do very well, Obi-Wan. I believe he would follow you into death, he believes in you." I sighed. "I can't say the same is true of his relationship with me. And for Anakin, I think his Master will be the key."
His fingers tightened slightly. "We won't argue over it," he murmured, "What's done is done, but I'll count on you for that advice."
Relieved, I met his gaze again. "I won't fail you."
He leaned forward then, kissed me gently again. "Come, you look tired, still, and I don't think you slept well. A nice hot bath, we haven't done that in a while, and then I think it's my turn to give you a massage."
The warmth in his eyes was enough to raise a flicker of pleasure at the thought, but I was tired, I thought. "I don't know, love," I began, but he kissed me again and I thought better of my mild objections.
The water was hot and seemed to do as much for the knots in my mind as for those in my body. Perhaps because my fears about Obi-Wan had melted like ice in the sun, perhaps because I no longer felt the coldness between us.
Another symptom of my stress, G'vra had said, and I suppose she may have been right.
I actually felt refreshed when we emerged, and surrendered to his insistence on the massage.
And my wily lover managed to turn that into a seduction. I would not have expected to be able to participate, let alone turn the tables, but such is the restorative power, I suppose, of relief and, fatuous as it sounds, our bond.
He is so very beautiful, in body and in spirit, and I wept a little after, but it wasn't from sadness or confusion, it was relief and joy. I think he was troubled at first, and tried to reassure him, we ended up laughing softly at each other and he felt asleep in my arms, his head pillowed on my shoulder, his arm over my chest.
My chest.
G'vra has instructed me to see the physician at least every few days unti . . . until she's assured that my physical health has not been affected by this malaise.
I think, given Obi-Wan's latest assignment, I had rather not worry him just yet with this. After all, just this morning, I was told that my health was fine. If it appears that there is a problem, then I must tell him. He deserves better of me than I have given him.
He's asleep now, sprawled and lovely, and looking innocent in the way of sleepers. I'm going to get back into bed and wrap myself around him and once again give thanks to the Force.
Whatever the future might bring.
Standard Date 187871-17126
The Temple at Coruscant
This night is endless.
Qui-Gon has yet to return from the meditation garden and I can't sleep. Dawn will be here in a few hours and I am no calmer than I was at sunset.
I can't understand him, but maybe it's my own fault. I see so much of myself in Anakin, especially in Anakin's isolation and pain. My own experience at Temple wasn't a pleasant one, and if not for Bant and a few other loyal friends, I'm not sure I would have stayed in the Order.
And poor Anakin doesn't even have those few upon whom he can depend.
All he has is Qui-Gon and myself, and I can't help but want to be friend as well as Master. I know he must be tested and tried, this is the only way he will learn how to control his immense gifts, but, to do so and be so utterly alone at the same time ... it hurts my heart to see it.
I want to relieve the child's distress, not add to it.
I am too defensive -- I know what Qui-Gon does is in the boy's best interests, but the boy's not a malleable creature; he is the oldest initiate ever taken on by the Council -- past three years of age, Force sensitives are turned away, only to become either mercenaries, criminals or petty rulers of backwater worlds.
Only Anakin's extraordinary midichlorian count saved him from this ignoble fate, but that's his sole advantage. And not much of one at that.
But how to explain this to Qui-Gon? He is my lifemate, but always, somewhere within, he is the Master I respected but never quite understood. His wisdom can be cryptic and his methods obscure by my blunt standards. He's been training padawans for decades, and I have no idea where to begin.
And it hurts, how it hurts to argue with him, but I'm not yet used to reasoning with him. My fault, I know ... ever the insecure padawan beneath the arrogant facade, ever Oafy-Wan, unworthy apprentice to the great Master Jinn, the one who was taken on by a quirk of Fate, never chosen outright, instead thrown by the Force into his master's ... and his soulmate's, path.
I wonder if he regrets our bond as I think he often regretted taking me on as apprentice. I let him down then, once terribly, but now ... no. No, I won't believe that. He loves me -- this much I'm sure of.
He will return, and when he does, we will talk. And then, all will be well.
Standard Date 1897319-19874
The Temple at Coruscant
I overslept this morning, for the first time in years. I can tell from the sheets on the opposite side of the bed that Qui- Gon didn't return after his meditations.
He's meditated all night before, it's not that unusual.
I hope.
Once he returns from his research duties, we'll take the rest of the afternoon and evening to have our talk. I feel confident now that we will straighten this out. I'm determined to put my personal feelings and insecurities aside and be the proper Master I should be to Anakin.
Even friendless, the boy needs a guide much more than he needs a coddling companion.
On another note, I've received word this morning that I've been given a new assignment -- Jedi Honor Guard to the Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. It's a mostly ceremonial post, harkening back to the days when the Senate was a slightly more violent place than it is now.
Of course, the traditional uniform is ridiculously uncomfortable, some skintight black monstrosity complete with high collar and stiff boots. Luckily, all the position requires is standing stock still beneath the Great Archway behind the Chancellor's booth, so hopefully I won't be hindered by the clothes.
Now to get dressed and to my post. It wouldn't do to keep His Excellency waiting.
Standard Date 1879183-81272
The Temple at Coruscant
I'm at a loss for words. Truly, I'm stunned and horrified and more upset than I can ever remember being.
Qui-Gon has resigned as Anakin's master.
And I didn't hear it from him ... I heard it from the boy. Not only that, the Council ... (the Council!) was told before I was! How could he? So soon after Naboo, he again takes serious action without consulting me and to what end?
Leaving me to train the boy alone! Has he gone mad? I'm not qualified to train Anakin, I never was, it was his decision all along that the boy must be trained, I was only supposed to assist.
Oh, he tried to give me explanations, tried to tell me he was no longer sure, that he's begun to doubt his fitness as a trainer, that I've uncovered these doubts for him and when I argue in return that even if he deems himself unfit, he's still more suited than I to be the boy's master, he then tells me bluntly that it is done and final, there is no turning back and I am Anakin's master, as I would have been had he died.
The room spun at that point, I could feel the blood drain from my face and I had to leave. Had to leave quickly before my heart broke right there and then.
As I would have been had he died.
Had he died. Oh my master, be careful, for what you don't know is that had you died, the boy would never have been trained, no, not by me.
I would have followed you into death, my master, as I had prepared to do when the healers told me that there was a good chance that you might not survive.
I still have the k'ludal, the blood-lettered sash I would have tied around my waist before taking up my saber and ending my life. They would have found my braid wrapped around the saber's handle, making Death my master, and so I would have not been given a pyre, instead I would have been buried quickly and never spoken of again by any Jedi, lest they be tainted by the mere act of saying my name.
I would not have been the first padawan to commit k'ludan, and as frowned upon as the ancient practice now is, I wouldn't have given a damn about the censure, for what good would my life have been to me without the other half of my heart?
But you don't know this, no I did not tell you. And now you've abandoned the child's training and I'm left to carry on ... 'as if you had died.'
I think I will take a page from my master's book and spend the night in the meditation gardens.
I cannot face him with this anger ... with this pain.
It will do none of us any good.
Standard Date 187917-18718
The Temple at Coruscant
It struck me while meditating that perhaps Qui-Gon is ill, perhaps he is not himself, as I was after our recent trials. He was horribly wounded on Naboo, and also must have suffered while we were on Alderaan, especially during my shock trance.
This dampened my bad temper considerably and I couldn't help the worry that crept over me, in spite of the anger. His being sick would explain much, and if it was so, then he needed me in spite of our arguing.
I quickly returned to our quarters only to have to listen to him once more try and explain his actions, insisting that it was I who inspired him to proceed as he did. He kept repeating that I was right, which infuriated me afresh considering I'd never said anything of the kind to him or anyone else.
"I'm right," I repeated, the anger itching up my spine. "How can I be right when that wasn't my opinion? What's happening to us?"
He turned away at this and continued on in the same vein. "Obi- Wan, you have shown me in a hundred ways since our return that you doubt me. And I'm not certain that you aren't right to do so." He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Anakin's training bond with you is far stronger, Obi-Wan. That in itself is enough to make the decision for me."
When I told him he was imagining things, he suddenly no longer wished to speak of it. It was then I knew he was unwell, and as angry as I still was, I couldn't help my concern.
His color wasn't good, he looked exhausted and his skin felt clammy to the touch. I nearly had to force him into bed, but at last he got in and I took a moment to check on Anakin before returning to finally sleep beside my bondmate, who peered at me uneasily as I undressed and crawled in beside him.
How strange it was to feel hesitant next to him, but I pushed the wariness aside and waiting until he was asleep, I drew closer, snaking my arm around his waist and took care to bite back the sting of tears that threatened.
I love him, I love him with all that I am, and all I want is to live in peace, but this life ... this life we've chosen does not want to allow it. Instead, we must muddle through the best we can, without tears, without recriminations and most of all, without anger.
For anger has a price that love cannot afford.
Standard Date 287917-19713
The Temple at Coruscant
He was gone again this morning, gone before I woke and my heart sank to see the empty space in the bed beside me. This is not at all what I'd planned my soulbond to be, I'd had rather more romantic visions in mind when I created it, but, at least the struggles endured will only make us, and our bond, stronger.
I hope.
I went to clean up for the day, and found him in the common room, making tea with Anakin. Told me he had made an appointment with a soul healer, which surprised me, but I said nothing. I'm not quite sure what he needs a soulhealer for, I think his problems are mostly physical, stemming from his injury on Naboo, but it is his body, his soul and he knows best.
We ate our breakfast in silence and it was off again, this time to the Senate, where another boring day of guarding a large stone wall and a whiny little man who is a meter too short for the noble robes he wears, awaits.
And while I stand guard, I will tuck my spirit in beside Qui- Gon's to speed his recovery, not matter what this ailment might be.
Standard Date 187991-2788
The Temple at Coruscant
Qui-Gon returned late from the soulhealing session, but still in time for supper. He looked drained ... beaten almost, and I couldn't help the flare of concern that washed over me.
I kept my fears to myself, at first anyway, since Anakin was still in the room with us and I proceeded as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. He complained of not being able to eat and I simply put the food away without an argument.
I had Ani bring him more tea and then practically rushed the boy to bed, especially when I caught the bright shine of fear in my love's eyes.
What could it be, I wondered, and leaned down to gently kiss him, to let him know I was with him, no matter what may come. He looked grateful at that small gesture and I tucked Anakin in, trying to quell the boy's worries with a show of confidence I didn't feel.
I came back out, poured more tea and sat with Qui-Gon on the terrace, listening to the distant hum of air traffic, feeling the strange dry breezes borne from the metal canyons of Coruscant brush by.
My anger was completely gone by then. I knew then as I know now that there is no such thing as chance, that Qui-Gon is following his feelings, and as frightening this turn of events is, it is the will of the Force, of that I can be sure. We simply have to be more open to that in the future, and more mindful of each other's hearts, never taking for granted our purposes and emotions, but always keeping our line of communication open, at least between each other.
I looked across at Qui-Gon and he quickly stared into his tea cup, obviously not looking forward to renewing our battle.
Well, he didn't have to worry. "I think we've been communicating somewhat at cross purposes, Qui," I said softly. "Both of us misunderstanding the other. A soulbond doesn't precisely mean we can read each other's minds, after all."
He laughed, and I felt joy at the sound. "No, that's true," he agreed. "For my contributions to that, beloved, I sincerely am sorry."
I gave him a small smile. "As I am. I have my own fears, you know. I'm still just a padawan, somewhere in the back of my head, and I'm terrified to have the full responsibility for Anakin's training."
I then explained the rest of my fears, how entwined they were with my personal experiences and again, I worried at the sadness and exhaustion that lined his face, and haunted his eyes. There was still something he wasn't sharing with me, some grief or fear he couldn't express, but I wasn't about to push further.
We'd pushed each other quite far enough in these last few days.
It took a bit of persuading, but I was able to get him into a warm tub with me, then into bed for a long massage. He protested, but not very hard, and it didn't take great effort to seduce my beautiful love, who responded to my ministrations with pleasure, then tears, but those I think were joyful ones rather than otherwise.
I fell asleep very quickly ... how warm and comfortable it is to be held in his arms ... and this morning looks to be a lovely one, all bright and cheerful, ready to be enjoyed and cherished.
Anakin is already calling me for tea and Qui-Gon's bright smile is all the encouragement I need, even as I get ready to head back to the Senate for yet another day of staring at the Supreme Chancellor's backside.
And, of course, listening to the cynical prattle of his military attache, Lieutenant Tarkin.
end of Book Five
On to Book Six
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