Master Apprentice Archive Road to Coruscant: The Final Conflict Quick search:

Road to Coruscant: The Final Conflict

by Susan Anthony (LdyGossamer@aol.com)

Pairing: Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon

Archive: Master_Apprentice, my site at http://www.geocities.com/area51/keep/8613/artists.html, anyone else, just ask

Category: AU, QG/OW, Action/Adventure, Humor, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Con

Rating: NC17

Series: Obi-Wan Kenobi: Jedi Action Hero

Spoilers: some for TPM

Summary: The pieces are all in place and the final game begins

Feedback: Very welcome.

Notes: This is dedicated to my most excellent beta, Maig. Without her encouragement and harassment this story would not have been written and if it had been written, it would have been much messier. And a very big thank you to Mrs. Hamill for writing her wonderful Wheel of If and allowing us to play in her worlds.

This story has taken a long time to tell and I appreciate everyone who ever sent feedback. It always helped to keep me writing. I didn't realize when I first started how much story there actually was here and thanks to my encouraging and highly nit-picking beta, Maigret, here is the last installment of the Jedi Action Hero series.

Warnings: M/M relationship, there will be torture and blood play in the last part of the story so please be warned. If you don't care for that sort of thing, please skip the day 24968.06.02.

More Warnings: To completely understand what's going on here, you should probably read the previous stories: What Happened Next, Further Developments, Road to Coruscant, Road to Coruscant: Above and Beyond. Before that, you should read some of the splendid Wheel of If saga, especially EP15 as this is a spin off thereof.

Disclaimer: Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Bruck, etc. aren't mine. More's the pity. This story is for the pleasure of the readers only. I don't make a thing. Knight Lars, Primary Khamier Sarin and the rest of the OCs are mine and I'm keeping them. YUM!

24968.05.33

...in frontline news, the Senate was rocked this morning by an announcement the Chancellor made that despite an attempt at negotiation by Jedi Knights, the Trade Federation blockade around the previously quiet planet of Naboo - a blockade put in place to protest the new taxation on outlying trade routes - had unexpectedly evolved into an all out invasion of the planet by the Nemoidians' robot army.

The Nemoidian Senators vehemently denied all accusations of the attack but the Chancellor responded that visual evidence of the invasion would be supplied at the afternoon Senate session, or sooner, should communications with the planet be restored more quickly. The Nemoidian Senators were then escorted from the Senate chamber to await further developments of the Naboo invasion.

In response to the attack, the Chancellor stated that he had dispatched several Republic warships that were on covert maneuvers in the neighboring system of Nabrinos to Naboo's aid and that the soldiers of the Republic were already landing on Naboo soil with the permission of the planet's monarch, Queen Amidala. He was unable to provide further information but stated that as he was updated with information, he would notify the Senate.

Senator Palpatine of Naboo kept his kindly and concerned expression in place with extreme difficulty as senator after senator offered him their support and words of wisdom concerning the unprecedented attack on his home world by those foul Nemoidian warmongers. It had been going on for hours since Chancellor Jinn's announcement. Jinn had released the Senate early so he could attend the incoming issues from Naboo and it seemed as if every representative of every Republic world decided to visit and sympathize with his plight.

To make things infinitely worse, every so often during the day, Jinn would personally call him with an update on the Republic's progress at decimating the Trade Federation's army. The Chancellor actually came by in person to assure Palpatine that everything that could be done was being done to secure Naboo's freedom and that Republic war ships had already captured the Trade Federation's mothership. There was a decided gleam in Jinn's hard blue eyes when he assured Palpatine that all information aboard the vessel was secured and should it be found that anyone was in collusion with the Nemoidians, Jinn would be certain that they also paid the price of attacking a Republic-protected planet.

The Naboo senator had been hard pressed - very hard pressed - not to use the Dark Force to slowly choke the life out of the man's body. As it was, he'd had to turn away from the Chancellor and his other unwanted and extremely annoying supporters in a supposed display of emotion. He didn't want them to see the raw rage in his expression as some of his very carefully laid plans were systematically destroyed.

Jinn hadn't stayed long to gloat. The Chancellor had other issues to attend to but he made it clear that he was personally monitoring everything concerning the Naboo crisis. Palpatine bid him farewell with grating thanks for the Chancellor's personal attention before he had claimed that he needed time to gather his thoughts. Then he had quickly kicked every other sentient out of his office and headed for his personal apartments. His orders to his assistant had been severe. Iolia was to allow no one into his office or apartment on the pain of an extremely messy death. Iolia had been with Palpatine long enough to know that he wasn't exaggerating.

Now the senator dropped all masks as he stalked through the blood red tones adorning his walls. His hands curled into clawed fists as several, ornate sculptures slammed across the room and shattered into pieces.

Damn it, how had that bastard Chancellor known? He had to have known. Convenient Republic war ships on covert maneuvers so near to Naboo were not coincidence. Jinn had known the Nemoidians were going to go further than the blockade and he'd taken measures to be able to stop them. Now one of Palpatine's more powerful allies was gone and his plans for conflict in the Senate were ruined.

Palpatine glared out of one of the darkened windows of his suite and brooded over what had happened. He just did not understand how things had escalated so quickly out of his control. The Dark visions he had, always completely reliable before, had been wrong. Just two days previous, he'd had an image of the easily manipulated Amidala en route to Coruscant, of her words dropping like detonators into the senate...'vote of no confidence in Chancellor Jinn', of the blue robe of Chancellor adorning his own body.

How? HOW could those images have been so wrong? Since he'd first traveled the path of the Sith, his ability to See had always been his guide. It had told him when to keep silent and when to strike back silently; it had guided him when he'd destroyed his own master; it had guided him to become a power in the Galactic Senate.

But now his vision had failed him and that made him all the more enraged. Sith didn't trust anyone but themselves and now Palpatine had found he could not trust even his own visions.

The Master Sith fisted his hand against the glass as he stared unseeing into the afternoon traffic and considered his next move.

It was obvious that Amidala would not be coming to Coruscant and should she come, she could never be convinced that Jinn was too weak to remain in control of the Senate. The Republic's very open support of her planet and the destruction of the Trade Federation showed to what lengths the Chancellor would go to in order to defend a Republic-backed world. This move would rally even more support to Jinn than he'd ever had before.

Palpatine closed his eyes and allowed the visions to come. Distrusted or not, they had always been true until the last few days and the Dark Force was not something to be ignored.

And he did not want to ignore them.

Before his inner gaze played images that delighted Palpatine: images of the Senate destroyed, of bodies littering the hallways, of blood on the walls and screams in the distance.

Palpatine shuddered with glee as more visions came: the Jedi Temple in ruins, the sky above a dark blood red, and a pair of black robed figures - himself and Owen he knew for certain - moving almost as one being, stalking through the Temple's shattered halls. Corpses clothed in the blood-spattered robes of the Jedi lay among the rubble, highlighted by the red light streaming in from broken walls and shattered skylights.

Then the vision focused on the leading member of the pair, of black eyes and dark hair, of a face twisted in an expression of dark satisfaction as he surveyed what had become of his former home.

Palpatine felt his body harden at the sight of Owen Lars clothed in the black robes of the Sith and obviously reveling in the death of the Order he'd once been dedicated to.

In that moment, the Sith Master once again found his focus. His ambition of taking over the Senate was no longer the path to the destruction of the Jedi. Now he knew that his considerable focus must be turned on the one man he'd been wanting all along. Even as the last vision faded, Palpatine knew where to find him. Soon, Owen would be his to break.

Keep watch for the Traveler.
He arrives unexpectedly and swiftly departs,
setting in motion the wheel of destiny
Eyes will meet, souls will bond, bodies will bind, hearts will choose.
Keep watch for the Traveler.
He arrives unexpectedly and swiftly departs,
setting in motion the wheel of destiny

Master Teri H'mil, Coruscant Temple
Year of the Republic 20000

The Jedi Council sat quietly in the Temple Council Chamber, each member lost in thought as they waited patiently. They had finished their discussions of the day's concerns and now waited for the final issue of the afternoon, an issue that had been Seen but not spoken of during the Council's regular meeting.

Finally, after the silence had become heavy with expectation, a chime sounded in the room, requesting that an incoming call be directed to the Chamber. Yoda tapped a button on the arm of his chair to signal the Council's willingness to take the call as each Councilor straightened and focused on the center of the room. A moment later, a life-sized, blue-tinted image of a rather bedraggled Knight Owen Lars appeared. He was wearing his Knight's robe but it was obviously torn in several places and his uniform was in only slightly better condition. Physically, however, he seemed alert if somewhat weary.

He also seemed quite surprised to find his image facing the entire Council.

"Master Yoda," he stumbled through the official greeting as he bowed hastily. "I assumed I was being transferred to the Assignments Master to give him an update on the Naboo mission."

"Interested, is the Council, in the outcome of the mission. Rocked the Republic it has," the little master stated calmly, his eyes quickly looking over his grand-padawan to ascertain that Owen had not been injured. "Why is Master Yinyan not reporting?"

The image of Owen's face grimaced and he glanced away for a moment. When he looked back, he visibly prepared himself to speak.

"Master Yinyan was injured while we were trying to get the Queen to safety," he said, his voice assuming the expressionless tone he reserved for mission briefings and debriefings. "The negotiations with the Nemoidians fell through almost as soon as we arrived. There was an attempt to kill us but we escaped the flagship and got down to the planet. However, when her Majesty, Queen Amidala, refused to sign over the ruling rights to Naboo, the Nemoidians sent an army down to the surface of the planet, assuming that their blocking of communications would keep anyone from sending aid."

Before he could continue, a uniformed man appeared in the holo and leaned over to speak quietly in the knight's ear, interrupting Owen's recitation of the mission. The intruder disappeared immediately and the knight returned his attention to the Council.

"I must hurry, Masters, as the Queen is sending Master Yinyan in her private ship to the healing Temple on Filanio," the Jedi stated calmly though the worry in his eyes was evident to those Council members just in front of him. "While the Naboo have excellent healers, we contacted the Filanio Temple for instructions and have been told to get Master there as quickly as possible."

"Send us your mission briefing when you arrive, you will," Yoda instructed the knight solemnly. "Meet you there, Master Koth will."

Owen's weary eyes looked a bit surprised but he didn't ask why Councilor Koth would be meeting them at Filanio. He was obviously more focused on wrapping up the call and departing with his former master.

"Very well, Master," he replied with a brief bow. "May the Force be with you."

Then his image was gone and once again there was silence in the Council Chamber.

"The Sith has made his first move and by our actions, it seems we have altered the path Knight Kenobi spoke of," Yareal Poof noted, his soft alto voice breaking into the contemplation of the Councilors.

"That will not make Knight Lars' path any easier," Councilor Billaba noted.

"Indeed, it will be all the more difficult for Yinyan to guide her 'Chosen One'," Councilor Saasea Tinn noted. The final phrase was said with a tone as close to sarcastic as it was possible for a Jedi Councilor to get. He had never agreed that one Jedi could be the center of so many prophecies, much less the unassuming, if highly skilled padawan of Yinyan Osristh'ca. "Perhaps we should have allowed Kenobi's future to be played out."

"Not with the price being the destruction of so many of the Naboo," Councilor Yaddle pointed out quietly. "The future paths may have altered but we still have information on whom to watch and be wary of."

"With his Master's injuries, Knight Lars will be walking alone, without guidance. Perhaps we should send another to guide him," Councilor Mundi mused. "If the prophecies are correct, the choice will be made soon."

"Knight Lars has been alone since he took his trials, Councilor Mundi," Councilor Gallia pointed out, her voice firm. "Yinyan only guided his path to Knighthood. Since then, his steps have never faltered in spite of the difficulty of the missions assigned to him. He has never wavered from the Light."

"Until now," Councilor Billaba pointed out, with an almost accusing glance towards Councilor Koth. "Until the Chancellor's Primary brought even more confusion to the prophecies surrounding Lars."

"That will be taken care of on Filanio," Eeth Koth noted calmly as he stood. "I will meet him there and remove the Primary's claim. Sarin will not interfere with Knight Lars' duty to the Temple."

Councilor Yoda studied the zabrak for a long moment before he nodded slowly. "Go then, Eeth Koth," the little master directed, speaking for the first time since Knight Lars' holo had disappeared. "Take your padawan and go. But listen to the Force, you will." The little master leaned forward, his green eyes intent on the zabrak. "Feel the conflict in you, I do," he said softly. "Consider well, your actions, when the time comes and stand you before Knight Lars."

Councilor Koth stared at the Head of the Jedi Council for a long moment before he bowed and left the room without another word. The other Councilors glanced at each other but left quietly in his wake, leaving Master Yoda to consider the strands of the future that were weaving themselves together even more intricately than before.

Soon it would be time for the Chosen One to make his choice: light or darkness, serenity or insanity.

And the galaxy would abide by his choice.

Such was the burden that lay upon Knight Owen Lars.

Humble in the Order, stalwart and brave,
Dark of hair, fair of face, a noble mien,
His blade is a sweeping arch of grace and power,
Pale green as the early grass on the plains of Sulic,
On this knight will the Choice weigh heavily,
Much may be lost,
Much may be gained,
On this will the matter be decided.

Master Lopin Mandaloran, Arend Temple
Year of the Republic 24853

The royal ship, Theed's Pride, was in orbit above Naboo and the pilot was preparing for the jump into hyperspace. They were waiting, however, for its injured and tanked passenger, one severely injured Jedi master, to stabilize a bit more before making the jump. Healers swarmed the area around the tank of bacta, taking readings and watching the injured Jedi closely as Owen observed from his post across the small infirmary.

He'd seen his master injured before: shot, stabbed, beaten, burned, all injures he had usually shared in some way or the other. But he'd never seen her so close to joining the Force as she did at this moment. Her skin was so pale, her body raked with the shrapnel from when she had shielded the Queen from an explosion. He knew many of the wounds would scar, not that his master would note them. She had plenty of scars from previous missions. What was truly bothering the knight was how faint his bond with his master had become since her injury. During the trip to Naboo, the Master/Padawan bond which had faded somewhat since his trials had increased almost to its former strength as the pair worked to help Owen master his emotions and reactions to the memories of Sarin's claiming Kiss.

Now, however, he hardly knew she was alive. She could spare nothing to keep the bond solid much less speak with him and assure him he wasn't going to lose her. He barely had an inkling of her presence in his mind and not much more in the Force.

With a final mental curse, the knight stepped out of the infirmary and moved along the small hallway of the ship towards the communication center he'd noted earlier. He didn't think about what he was about to do, didn't consider anything but the fact that this was what he needed.

When he entered the small room, the Naboo soldier manning the communications looked up at him in surprise.

"Would you mind if I made one final call before we jump into hyperspace?" he asked with just a touch of Force in his voice. He didn't think about that little manipulation either.

"Of course not, Knight Lars," the comm tech said, standing quickly and moving from the room. "I'll reroute any incoming calls from the planet to the comm in the cockpit."

Owen just nodded as the man scooted past. Then he locked the door and settled into the seat. He leaned forward to run his fingers over the keyboard, quickly making connections and hoping that he had the time to do this, even as he hoped they would soon make the leap to hyperspace for his master's sake.

It was only a matter of moments before an older face appeared on the screen with intent black eyes that seemed to look right through him.

"Primary Sarin's office, how may I assist you?" the man's voice asked tonelessly.

"I am Knight Owen Lars. I would like to speak with Primary Sarin. It's urgent." Owen's words were flat and uncompromising. He was going to speak with Khamier.

"What may I say the matter is concerning?"

Owen's lips pressed together in a very un-Jedi-like show of impatience. "I'm planning on killing him slowly when I get back to Coruscant and I'd like to make an appointment with him if you don't mind."

The man showed just a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his image disappeared from the screen, replaced with the signal of the Primary's office. Owen sighed and leaned back. He'd probably gone to alert the authorities that there was a mad Jedi loose in the system. Gently, he rubbed the still tender spot on his forehead where he'd taken a bit of shrapnel. It had been healed quickly but still it ached.

"Owen."

The Primary's smooth voice flowed over him and in spite of the tenseness of his situation, Owen found himself relaxing slightly as his eyes sought out the golden gaze looking out at him from the communication screen.

"Khamier."

Saying that name felt as if it were the entire reason for this call and Owen stared into his lover's gaze for a long, peaceful moment. Then he took a deep breath and then forced himself to blink. Khamier immediately caught his gaze again but Owen was able to speak at least.

"I'm going to kill you when I get back to Coruscant," the knight noted, his voice still somewhat breathy. The face on the screen smiled smugly.

"So Huzan informs me," Khamier replied happily. "I have to say, I'm looking forward to it."

"You would," Owen replied with a sigh. Then he looked directly at the face onscreen and asked, "Why did you do it, Khamier Sarin?"

The smug expression melted away. "Because you belong to me, Owen Lars," he said simply. "And I do not share."

His tone was so matter of fact, so straightforward that Owen wasn't certain how to respond. His first feeling was anger that the zabrak would dare to make a claim on him without asking his permission first. Then came pleasure and a surprising joy that Khamier would want to claim him. Then confusion and worry intruded as for the first time, Owen's personal wants and needs came into direct conflict with his calling to serve the Jedi Temple.

"I can't belong to you, Khamier," he said, his eyes shadowed. "I am a Jedi."

"Whether you are a Jedi or not makes no difference, Owen," Khamier replied in a low, hard tone. "You bear my mark and you accepted it willingly or you would not feel it. You belong to me." The zabrak held his eyes for a long moment before he continued. "And I to you."

Owen didn't think too hard about the feeling of elation that Sarin's words evoked in him. He leaned forward without thought before he jerked his eyes away from Khamier's almost gentle gaze.

"Now, back to the reason for this mid-mission call. Are you returning soon? Because I can assure you, the first face you'll see when you get off your transport will be mine."

"Actually, that isn't really why I called," he began, glancing up at the face on screen before he looked away again. "That is...I...my master." He closed his eyes again and took another calming breath.

"Owen, are you hurt?" Khamier asked quickly and the knight turned back to the screen, catching his lover's gaze again.

"No," he replied. "My master was. She was hurt badly. She may not...."

His voice trailed off as he strove for the serenity his master had worked so hard to teach him. Jedi were not supposed to feel such depth of emotions or rather, they were supposed to be able to funnel those feelings off into the Force.

But this was his master, the one who'd shown such faith in a rather scraggly, unpromising initiate, the one who'd held his hand and spirit after that dark night with Palpatine and assured him that, despite what he felt at that moment, he would find joy in an intimate touch again.

Another deep breath and Owen brought his dark eyes back to Khamier's waiting gaze. "My master may not make it back," he said softly, his eyes never wavering. "I just needed to see you."

The expression of compassion and concern on Khamier's face was a balm to Owen's pain.

"I would be there for you if I could, my intemi," Khamier said in the gentlest tone Owen had ever heard. "When are you returning to Coruscant?"

"We aren't coming directly back. We are going to a healing Temple first," Owen replied, holding on to Khamier's gaze like a lifeline even as he saw the first fringes of static indicating they were about to jump to hyperspace. "Master Koth is meeting us there."

He didn't know why he'd mentioned that to his lover but at the Councilor's name, Khamier's golden gaze grew hard. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"The Temple of Filanio," Owen found himself responding despite the fact that he thought perhaps he was giving out too much information.

"Owen," Khamier said quickly as the screen became fuzzier. "Come back to me. Please." The Primary's strong hand touched the screen and Owen found himself reaching forward to place his hand along the image of his lover's palm.

"I will, Khamier."

And then there was nothing but static.

Khamier looked at the static on the screen for a long moment before he keyed it off. He had been somewhat stunned when Huzan commed him to say there was a Jedi waiting to speak with him who would like to make an appointment to kill him. He didn't even need to hear the knight's name before he told his assistant to send the call through.

That Owen had called him made Khamier think that Koth had not yet informed him of the Council's intention of removing his Kiss. Even better, that Owen had called Khamier - his Claimant - for comfort in the midst of a mission, implied that Sarin's Kiss had taken much more quickly and far deeper than even Khamier had expected.

Though the mystery of how the ages-old ritual allowed a zabrak to bond with his chosen mate wasn't known to anyone outside the zabrak culture, scientific speculation suggested that what made the Mating Kiss so powerful was a complete and utter trust between the two individuals. Eventually, depending on the sensitivity of the two beings involved, that bond of trust could evolve into something similar to a Jedi bond. Thus, once mated by a Kiss, zabrak spouses instinctively turned to one another for comfort and support. Khamier hadn't even completed his Claim on his Chosen mate and already Owen was turning to him, across light years of distance, for comfort.

The satisfaction Khamier felt was quickly extinguished as he remembered his mate's words. 'Master Koth is meeting us there.'

The Primary's hands fisted and slammed down on his desktop and then he stood and stalked across the room. There was no way he was allowing the damned Jedi to take his mate. He was not going to allow Koth to take Owen from him. If he had to, Khamier would simply take his knight to Zabrak and complete the Kiss. His clan would protect him and his mate; and once complete, nothing in the galaxy could break a zabrak's Claim. By law, the Jedi would have to accept that Owen was lost to them.

Khamier didn't have the satisfaction of slamming open the door from his office to the reception area as it slid open automatically upon his approach, but he did have the gratification of seeing several of his prime agents scatter at his appearance, fleeing out the front office doors if they had no further business in his office.

Huzan, however, couldn't leave as he was responsible for the continued operation of the Primary's office so he stood his ground or rather, continued to sit behind his desk as his employer approached.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help but stare.

Any expression on Primary Sarin's face was out of place but the expression of anger that now crossed the zabrak's features made Huzan think that perhaps he shouldn't have forwarded Knight Lars' call after all.

"Huzan, I need to talk to A'larni. Get him on the comm. And then activate 017 and get him into my office immediately. Tell him to pack. He's taking a trip."

With those clipped words, the Primary turned around and stalked back into his office. Huzan just stared for a moment before he turned to his highly encrypted keyboard and started typing. He wouldn't want to be in Secondary A'larni's or Operative 017's boots for anything in the galaxy right now.

Qui-Gon Jinn watched his last appointment of the day glide out of his office with a relieved sigh. Concerns over the Naboo situation had been high and with the visual evidence presented to the Senate late this afternoon, many were still questioning how the Nemoidians had gathered so much firepower that they could attack a planet.

That was the main question of the day and the Chancellor had spent a great deal of time making sure that the Senators understood that the Trade Federation could have chosen any planet to make their target and Naboo just happened to be the unlucky choice. Making the Federation a danger to any Senator who had a remote planet to protect in his or her or its sector would give Jinn even more power to deal with the Nemoidians when the time came for them to be judged for their actions on Naboo.

Now, however, Qui-Gon was done for the day. He had spoken with more members of the Senate today than he had the entirety of the last few months and he was tired. That didn't mean he would be heading home but it did allow him the pleasure of knowing he didn't have to answer any more questions. He'd already dispatched a message to Elysèun to let them know he wouldn't be making it home this evening so he could focus on working with the updated information coming in from Naboo.

At this moment he had the quiet he needed to evaluate further strategies for making sure Palpatine's plans were completely destroyed. The only problem he had now was that he missed Ben.

With an absent sigh, Qui-Gon pulled up his schedule for tomorrow. He might as well prepare for his first appointments since he had this moment of peace between comms from Naboo. When he brought up the file, however, he was surprised to find it quite sparse and most of the appointments seemed to be scheduled as vid conferences.

With a frown, he reached over to open a connection with his assistant. "Thalla?"

"Yes, your Excellency?"

"Is this my most recent schedule?" he asked as he thumbed through the listing again.

"Yes sir," the woman replied, her voice almost hesitant. "Primary Sarin called and rearranged your schedule fifteen minutes ago and then said he was coming to...speak with you about it."

Qui-Gon looked at the woman on the screen who was biting her lip. "That's not exactly what he said was it?"

"Not exactly, no, sir." The Chancellor raised a brow and waited while his assistant pondered how to tell him his Primary's message. "Well, sir, he said to fix the schedule like that and that he'd be down to instruct you further on what you would be doing tomorrow."

Both Qui-Gon's brows rose. "Instruct me further?"

Thalla really started chewing on her lower lip, then said, "Yes sir."

Qui-Gon just studied the image on his screen for a moment before he sat back. "Well, by all means, send the Primary in when he comes by."

Thalla looked immediately relieved as she nodded and he cut the connection.

Qui-Gon wasn't quite sure what to think about Khamier's actions. His Primary was considered to be the best in his field and one of the most feared sentients in the Senate when it came to the ability to destroy his enemies. He was also one of the few beings that Qui-Gon trusted absolutely.

When he had first become Chancellor, there had been several attempts on his life. The man who had previously held the office had been weak and corrupted and when it turned out that Qui-Gon was neither, several factions in the Senate decided to remove him.

Khamier had wasted no time before retaliating in ways designed to make a being shiver if they even considered causing the Chancellor to break a nail. Primary Sarin had kept Qui-Gon alive and steady for more than thirty years, ever since Khamier had first taken over the newly elected Senator's Jinn's security when the young man had first come to Coruscant representing his home sector. Now there was no one else Qui-Gon would want in the position that the zabrak held.

But in all the time that Khamier had been his chief of security, Qui-Gon couldn't recall him ever "instructing" him about anything.

The Chancellor was still pondering his Primary when the zabrak walked through his doorway. Khamier's expression was typically neutral but Qui-Gon could tell from long years of association that the zabrak was nervous. Sarin's eyes were just a little too wide and darted quickly around the room. His dark hair was braided tightly rather than in the loose plait he usually wore and he hadn't even bothered to ask permission to meet with his boss. That was the most telling thing in Qui-Gon's opinion. Casual their relationship might be, but Khamier was never seriously disrespectful.

"Good evening, Chancellor," Khamier started speaking before he even got halfway across the room. "I have several issues I need to tell you about and not a lot of time, so please listen carefully."

The Chancellor leaned back in surprise as he studied his Primary.

"I understand from Thalla that you've noticed your schedule change," Khamier began as he paced back and forth in front of Qui-Gon's desk, a thing the Chancellor had never seen his Primary do before. "I made those changes because I want you to work from Elysèun tomorrow." He held up his hand before Qui-Gon could even open his mouth. "I know you plan on working here the evening through but I'd want you to return home as early as possible tomorrow morning. The reason is because I am taking an unexpected leave of absence beginning immediately and Kiers will be taking over for me. Tomorrow will give him a chance to settle any issues regarding the restructuring of the guards' schedules, which should be back in place by the day after tomorrow. Kiers is a good guardsman and an excellent strategist. He'll be able to keep you safe until I return. I've briefed him about Palpatine and he is keeping his eyes open. I hope that I will not be gone very long but it entirely depends on Owen."

Qui-Gon just blinked for a moment as his quick mind tried to absorb what his Primary was telling him.

"Secondly," Khamier continued as he returned to his pacing. "Benjamin's soldier friends are coming in from Callis and I said I would evaluate them. I've already sent a comm to their ship asking to rendezvous with them late this evening as they are coming into the system. My ship will meet with theirs and I'll look them over and send my opinions back for your perusal. Then I'll send them on to Elysèun. If they meet with your satisfaction, let Kiers know and he'll schedule them for further skill evaluation on my personal training courses. Once we're satisfied with their level of skill, we can move them into the rotation of guards for your Consort."

"Khamier," the Chancellor interrupted sharply, leaning forward as he tried to catch the zabrak's attention. "While I appreciate, as always, your attention to these details, would you mind telling me why you need to take a leave of absence right in the middle of a rather large crisis?" This was so unlike his friend that Qui-Gon was worried.

Khamier stopped in front of Qui-Gon's desk, silent for a moment as he focused on the Chancellor. His lips pressed together in a rare show of anger.

"I have taken a mate, Qui-Gon," the zabrak began. "I've only been able to complete the first part of the ritual but already he shows an Acceptance of the Kiss. Already, he turns to me for comfort." The zabrak's teeth suddenly flashed as he snarled, his voice low and vicious. "But the Jedi think to take him away from me. They intend to remove my Claim."

The question of what the Jedi had to do with Khamier's claim flashed through Qui-Gon's mind a moment before he found the answer himself.

"You claimed Knight Lars?" he asked, trying to keep his tone mild while inside he was wondering how in the hells he was going to present this to his Consort in a positive light.

Khamier glared defiantly at him. "I did."

"And he Accepted your claim?" came the calm question.

A flash of unease flared in the zabrak's golden eyes. "The Mark took so there must have been Acceptance. On some level, Owen acknowledged my claim. Koth denies that Owen knew what he was doing and is using that as grounds to dissolve the Mark."

"Councilor Eeth Koth?"

Khamier nodded sharply. "Even now he travels to meet with Owen," the zabrak growled as he leaned forward. "He said he would remove the Mark and deny Owen any say in the matter. I have sent someone to intervene but I want to go and protect what is mine. I want to complete the Kiss." The Primary's hands curled up and fisted on the dark wood of Qui-Gon's desk. "Owen Lars is mine!"

The Chancellor didn't even question the possessiveness of his Primary in regards to his potential mate. Even non-bonded Zabrakian males were notorious for being possessive of their partner even when it came to their past relationships. Khamier must have truly fallen hard for Knight Lars in order to overlook a past that was literally riddled with beings that had slept with his mate. Qui-Gon wondered absently how Owen would deal with that attitude if Khamier achieved his goal and completed his Mating Kiss.

But that was something to worry over later. Now, however, Khamier had instigated a Temple Incident that could easily spiral out of control. The fact that the Jedi would even try to remove Khamier's claim - despite the fact that it was on a Knight of the Order - struck at the very heart of the agreement the Zabrakian people had made with the Republic when they had joined. The Mating Kiss was the highest, most sacred bond a zabrak would acknowledge. Once the Claimed partner accepts the bond, there is no power in the Republic, or the galaxy, that could step between the two.

Qui-Gon considered the problem for only a few moments more before he looked up at his friend.

"Khamier, I approve your leave of absence despite the fact that you didn't even ask and are leaving me in the middle of a crisis." The man's blue eyes glared briefly at his Primary who looked entirely unrepentant though Qui-Gon did see a brief expression of relief cross his friend's face. "I also take leave to remind you that you only have to get Knight Lars' verbal acknowledgement that he accepts your claim and the protection of the Republic will stand between him and his Jedi superiors."

The Chancellor stood and walked around his desk. He reached up and clasped Khamier's shoulder firmly. "You have the support of the Supreme Chancellor and all that entails, Khamier," Qui-Gon continued quietly.

The Primary just looked at his friend for a long moment before he nodded. "Good," he replied, his tone a bit unsteady before he straightened. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Qui-Gon, because I've sent 017 on ahead until I can catch up with Eeth Koth."

Qui-Gon pulled his hand from his Primary's shoulder as he flinched. "You pulled the Republic's top stealth agent and sent him on a personal errand?"

Khamier shrugged. "He wasn't doing anything important other than keeping tabs on Palpatine and we have 019 on that as well. 017 knows the Jedi and how to respond to the threat to my mate."

The Chancellor stared at his Primary for a moment longer before he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He felt a headache coming on.

"I'll want to be back as soon as I can, Qui-Gon," Khamier stated as he turned and strode towards the door. "So I'm taking the Omerle'ti and its pilot."

"Khamier!" That was the vessel set aside for the use of top Senators in the event of a planetary emergency.

"I'll be back, Qui-Gon," he said as he waved and disappeared through the door.

The Chancellor just stared after his Primary, trying to figure out exactly where in that conversation he had lost control. If Khamier hadn't been the best Primary a Chancellor could ask for, not to mention his closest friend for the past thirty years, Qui-Gon would seriously be considering sending an order for a shut down of the Omerle'ti.

Not that it would stop Khamier.

The zabrak had never, in all the time they had been working together, allowed his personal life to interfere with his job. Now, however, Khamier's personal life had not only commandeered his professional one but he was taking advantage of his office as Primary to hunt down his mate.

Qui-Gon rubbed his forehead again and reached for the bottle of Correllian brandy. As he poured himself a glass, he considered his Primary. Khamier could be a mean, cunning bastard and he had a wicked sense of humor but his loyalty had never been questioned and he was an exceptional friend. Owen Lars had just better appreciate the lengths to which his Primary was going in order to keep him.

The Chancellor groaned then. What was he going to say to Benjamin. 'Oh, by the way, lover, my Primary has gone off to take ownership of your brother in a zabrakian blood ritual designed to tie Owen to him and only him forever. Congratulations on the new brother-in-law. Hope you don't mind him being a possessive bastard.'

Qui-Gon took another gulp of his brandy and brooded until his comm unit beeped for his attention. Qui-Gon slapped the button down hard.

"Yes?" he snapped.

There was an obvious hesitation on the other end. Then Thalla's voice said, "Secondary Kiers A'larni to see you sir."

Qui-Gon leaned back and closed his eyes with a sigh, mentally grabbing hold of his temper and stuffing it down where he could control it. Then he leaned forward again.

"Send him in, Thalla, and thank you."

The door to his office slid open again and a somewhat hesitant Secondary - temporary Primary - stepped into the room. Qui-Gon just waved him forward and prepared himself to deal with the man. He'd worked with Kiers before, of course, but never in the capacity of Primary.

His mind was already working on how this change of Primary might be seen in the Senate and how it would affect his office. But his mind kept getting tangled up in the question of what in the hells was he going to tell Benjamin?

24968.05.34

Mari-Gon Prav Alisina watched her soon-to-be brother-in-law with narrowed eyes as he picked quietly at his breakfast. The young man hadn't said much more than a polite good morning since he'd come downstairs even though his cousin Vellen had prodded him once or twice with conversational openings. He offered very little in the way of replies and Vellen had soon turned to her own meal, exchanging conversation with her other table companion.

Mari-Gon, however, was not content to allow the boy to sulk this early in the morning. Obviously, the boy was missing Qui-Gon who had been held up at the Senate due to some crisis or another. Something about a war on some outer rim planet, her maid had informed her.

Obviously, she'd have to speak with Qui-Gon on the proper care and maintenance of a Consort. One did not just stay overnight at the Senate because of some unimportant little war somewhere off in the cosmos. Qui-Gon should have known better than to leave just a private little comm message stating he was sorry he couldn't get home but he'd see Benjamin tomorrow. Private, of course, being a relative term on Elysèun. Mari-Gon had seen the note as soon as it had arrived, which had been almost an hour before Benjamin had returned home alone on the Chancellor's shuttle.

The look on the boy's face as he'd read the message conveyed to Mari-Gon just how much Benjamin had been looking forward to seeing her brother at the end of his day. Much to her surprise, however, the boy didn't pout, whine or throw a tantrum at being so abandoned. Mari-Gon had expected at least a pout. That was well within the boy's rights.

All she got was a plaintive little sigh that unexpectedly tugged at her own rather guarded heartstrings. He'd thanked the servant for the delivery of the message, given her a polite nod and then retired to his room until dinner. He'd been more quiet than usual when they'd gathered for the evening meal, but he'd smiled at least and told a few amusing stories about his upcoming classes at the Jedi Temple.

Now, though, she could see he had not slept well in the absence of her brother. Considering some of the things her maid had heard from the other servants on the estate, she knew that he was used to a nightly romp between the sheets. But the lack thereof shouldn't cause such melancholy in the boy. He was going to have to realize sooner or later that he was Committed to the Supreme Chancellor who couldn't always spare the time to come home to his mate - though Mari-Gon thought her brother had clearly over reacted to this Naboo issue. It wasn't as if there was open warfare on Coruscant. He should have come home to take care of Benjamin.

Mari-Gon sniffed as she considered, once again, her younger brother's shortcomings. She took a final sip of her morning juice before she gestured for the servants to clear the table and bring her the stack of comp pads she'd left on a side table. She took one and then gestured for the others to be given to Ben and Vellen. Each looked a bit surprised.

"Now, to business, children," she stated grandly, winning a brief scowl from Benjamin and a grin from Vellen. "As you can see from the schedule Vellen and I have been working on we have a little more than two weeks to prepare for the first official Bonding Reception on behalf of yourself and my brother."

Mari-Gon noted but did not acknowledge that Benjamin's entire body froze as his knuckles whitened on the comp pad. "I have already sent out the invitations so you won't need to worry about that. It will be nothing elaborate to begin with, a private little soirée of about two hundred held here in the main reception room. Just family and friends whom you'll want to get to know."

Benjamin gave her a look that approached panic but didn't quite convey all out horror. "Two hundred?" he asked faintly.

"More or less, depending on who responds," Mari-Gon replied lightly though she was watching her brother-to-be closely. "Now, Vellen has told me that you can be somewhat shy around people you are unfamiliar with, but there will be no need for that among family. She has provided me a list of whom we can invite from your side of the family as well so there will be some familiar faces."

Benjamin turned a panicked gaze to Vellen but the girl just gave him a reassuring smile. "Only my family, Ben," she said gently.

"Yes, I understand there is some...irregularity with your relationship your father. Vellen wouldn't go into details but I gathered that it would not be wise to invite him," Mari-Gon practically huffed, turning a stern glare on the young woman next to her at the table.

"You are correct, ma'am," Ben said in a grim tone. "My father has not been a part of my life in a very long while."

"Very well," the matron said with a wave of her hand. "We'll forgo any invitation to your father but I have sent a very pointed note to the Head of the Jedi Council - Master Yiddle or whatever his odd little name is - informing him that he has precisely two weeks to get your brother back from wherever they sent him and deliver him in handsome formal whites to Elysèun by six in the evening." Mari-Gon's lips curved just a bit into a smirk as she glanced at Vellen. "I've also asked for that striking young knight with the white hair who accompanied you back from Callis. One can never have enough handsome young men at a party and he is, after all, Benjamin's liaison at the Temple."

Benjamin raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at his cousin. Vellen just studied her nails with a smug smile on her face. He chuckled under his breath.

"Thank you for remembering Owen, ma'am," Benjamin said as he turned his attention back to his future sister-in-law. "I have not often seen him since I returned to Callis."

"It is always a comfort to have family about," Mari-Gon replied with a nod as she made a notation on her comp pad. "Especially family who carry lightsabers and can slay on demand."

The two cousins blinked at her but Mari-Gon took no notice.

"Now, Benjamin, if you'll check the next entry, you'll see an afternoon tea I have set up two weeks after the Bonding Reception to introduce you personally to my companions and their daughters."

The matron was distracted by a faint wheeze coming from Ben's direction. She gave him an inquiring look.

"Can I bring Owen to that one as well?" he asked hopefully. Slaying seemed like a logical idea at the moment.

Mari-Gon shook her head firmly. "Of course not, Benjamin. You will be the only male there unless you can convince Qui-Gon to come."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Oh, he'll be there, don't think he won't."

"Excellent." Lady Alisina just beamed at him and made another notation.

The Jedi Temple, Coruscant Later that morning

"Questions, have you, young padawans?" Yoda asked as he glanced up from his unusually solitary breakfast. Two familiar padawans were standing across the table from him, with extremely uncomfortable but determined expressions.

"Master Yoda," the female padawan said as the pair bowed. "Please forgive us for interrupting your breakfast but we have something we'd like to speak to you about if you have a few minutes."

The old Jedi studied the two fidgeting padawans intently for a long moment before he gestured for them to be seated. "Sit down, you will, Padawan Ma'ta and Padawan Lorn. Too tall you both are." Then he turned back to his fruit.

Both apprentices settled down across from the old master, relief evident in their more relaxed postures. After a moment of silence, Yoda looked up at them again, his green eyes curious. Ma'ta was biting her lip and glaring sideways at her companion. Lorn was chewing his nails. Finally, the young female elbowed her companion and Lorn jumped. After a moment longer, he cleared his throat.

"Master Yoda, we heard that the people from Interstellar Light and Magic will be here today auditioning Jedi for parts in the vid they are making of Master and Apprentice."

Yoda nodded smugly as he gestured with a piece of his fruit. "Correct, you are. Auditioning I am, for the part of Head Councilor Oparth kal J'ilarmi. Chosen, do you think I will be?"

"Ummmm...." Ma'ta and Lorn glanced at each other cautiously. In H'ammil's book, the Head Councilor of the Jedi was a seven-foot tall, hulking Jeraxion but neither padawan really wanted to point that out to Yoda.

"Audition, do you want me to set up for you?" Yoda continued while he nibbled on his fruit. "Perhaps yearmates you could be for young Obi-Wan."

"Oh yeah!" Lorn began excitedly until Ma'ta stamped on his foot under the table. The male padawan flinched and glared at Ma'ta for a moment before he sighed. "I mean, that would be great, Master Yoda, but we have something else to ask you."

The master finished off his fruit and then turned his attention to the two apprentices across from him.

"We - the padawans of my class, I mean - we were talking last evening and we were thinking...." Lorn trailed off before he shot a pleading glance at his companion. Ma'ta sighed inwardly and then straightened.

"Master Yoda, we were thinking that perhaps you could try to get Master Lars to audition for the part of Obi-Wan Kenobi when he's a senior padawan." The padawan bit her lip again. "He'd be a shoo-in for the part! I mean he wrote the story. He'd be perfect!"

"He looks like Obi-Wan should look!" Lorn added, looking at the Jedi master hopefully. "Could you speak to him, Master Yoda? Try to convince Master Lars that he should audition?"

The small Jedi looked over the two padawans at his table before he picked up another fruit. "Do or do not, there is no try," he pointed out before he took a bite of the fruit. "Considered this myself, I have," he continued. "But cunning is Master Lars. Help, I may need. Available will you be for me, young padawans?"

Ma'ta and Lorn beamed at the old master. "Of course, Master Yoda," they chimed together.

The old master nodded. "Call you, I will, when need you, I do."

The two padawans recognized a dismissal when they heard one and stood. Then they bowed. "Thank you, Master Yoda," Lorn said before the two scurried back to their table where their yearmates waited. Yoda watched as Ma'ta and Lorn sat down and started talking excitedly. As they spoke, the noise level at the table rose significantly. Then the little master jumped down from his chair and moved towards the dining hall exit. He had much to plan.

The Consort-to-be's ship settled quietly to the ground even as his liaison made his way into the Temple's largest landing bay. Bruck waited quietly beside the hallway leading into the Temple as two Republic guards stepped into the landing bay. One carefully scanned the area as the other visually marked where every sentient was standing. Then they nodded to each other and one of the guards stepped back to murmur something into the open door of the craft. A moment later, Benjamin Lars stepped from the shuttle and glanced around, immediately catching Bruck's gaze.

Ben gave the knight a half-smile and a nod and the trio moved across the bay towards the waiting Jedi as, behind them, the shuttle immediately lifted off again.

As they approached, Bruck gave a very proper bow to the Chancellor's Consort and then grinned at Ben's raised eyebrows.

"What was that?" the writer demanded, his tone grumpy. Bruck just chuckled as he dropped into step beside the shorter man as they moved into the Temple. Here and there along the hallway droids were repainting the walls nearest to the docking bay along with the occasional Jedi hurrying to another mission.

"I was taken to task yesterday by a few masters for not showing the proper respect for the Chancellor's Consort," the knight said in a somewhat whimsical tone. "So, for appearance's sake, I must bow to those far wiser than I."

Ben came to a halt and he turned to stare at his companion, his lips pressed together. "Do I need to have a chat with these 'wiser than thou' masters?" he asked in a low tone. "Because I can do that."

Bruck looked a little startled. "No, you don't need to do that," he said quickly. "They were just worried I might have offended you."

"Bruck, there's no need for bowing to me," Ben stated firmly as he slowly moved forward again. "When I'm here in the Temple I would like to be just another teacher. There's nothing different about me."

Bruck managed not to look skeptical at Ben's words but it took a supreme effort of will. He had just opened his mouth to respond with a polite, 'As you say, Consort,' when a practice droid came zooming around the corner ahead of them just at head height, beeping wildly and flashing lights. The thing was followed immediately by about six noisy padawans in hot pursuit, a few with lightsabers drawn and gleaming.

After that, everything happened so quickly, Bruck was barely able to get himself between the padawans and the energy rifles pointed at them with deadly earnest.

A moment after the first padawan appeared, Benjamin was shoved back against the wall, one of his guards placing himself between the Chancellor's Consort and the padawans. By the time the rest of the group turned the corner, the two well-trained, Republic guards were aiming their weapons directly at what they perceived as an oncoming threat.

Bruck could hardly believe Ben's guards had moved so fast but his own speed was phenomenal as he moved between the two groups with a Force enhanced shout of "Padawans down, NOW!"

As soon as the words left his lips, six padawans were kneeling, heads down on the floor and perfectly still, as Bruck stared down the scopes of two rifles. His own hands were up and empty.

The whole commotion had started and ended within ten seconds.

"They mean no harm," Bruck said, projecting calm vibes for all he was worth to the pair of guards, one who still had his body entirely shielding Benjamin and the other slightly in front and to the left of his companion. "They were only chasing the training droid. They meant no harm to Master Lars."

The two guards slowly lowered their rifles, the man in front keeping a stern eye on the silent padawans while the one shielding Ben stepped forward to allow the teacher to move away from the wall. Bruck noticed that Ben looked a little shocked. Then the teacher's eyes fell on the padawans still kneeling on the floor and his lips pressed together angrily.

"Why are they on the floor?" he demanded of the knight.

Bruck just glanced down at the students. "It was the easiest way to keep them from being fried." The knight moved to stand just in front of the leading padawan, his expression becoming serious as he said, "You may rise but be silent."

The six apprentices, all between the ages of 16 and 18, Bruck guessed, stood and immediately came to Ready stance, eyes down and heads bowed. The knight studied them for a long minute before he spoke again.

"Would one of you care to explain your actions in running through the halls like rampaging abiseths, almost setting off an Incident with the Republic in the process?" he asked in a soft yet obviously stern tone.

Watching from his position between his two still tense guards, Ben had to wonder how the padawans managed to shuffle almost sheepishly without even moving.

"We were chasing the out-of-control training droid, Knight Chun," the lead padawan stated as he glanced up. "We just didn't want it getting into the docking bay. We didn't realize that Master Lars was here already."

"That does not excuse the fact that all of you were running through the halls, some of you with sabers drawn, unaware of anything around you. At the least, you should have sensed a group ahead of you and slowed down," Bruck began, his stern expression sweeping over each student.

His lecture continued from there and Ben watched open-mouthed as the usually light-hearted knight tore some wide strips off the offending padawans. He ended his rant with a warning. They easily could have been fried by the Republic Guards, had the guards been paying as little attention to their surroundings as the padawans had been. Bruck assured them he was going to speak with each one of their masters to let them know of the almost Incident with the Chancellor's Consort.

Benjamin cleared his throat as he stepped forward, glancing sideways as his guards shadowed him closely. He moved to stand beside the still glowering knight.

"Aren't you being a bit harsh, Bruck?" he asked softly as he looked over the very sorry looking group of students. The knight just glanced at him.

"No, Ben, I'm not. Most of these students are senior padawans and should have far more control over themselves. Two were running with their sabers drawn, an even worse infraction as there is a greater chance of someone getting hurt in an uncontrolled environment."

Ben opened his mouth to defend them again and Bruck turned to look at him fully. "What would you be saying right now if your guardsmen hadn't controlled their instinctive reaction to protect their charge and shot one or more of this group?" the knight asked softly. "These guards are highly-trained and willing to do what it takes to defend you, Chancellor's Committed."

"As you say, these guards are highly trained," Benjamin agreed, frowning at his liaison's use of his official title. "They would know the difference between friend and foe and clearly these are Jedi padawans."

Knight Chun held Ben's gaze for a long moment before he took a deep breath and stepped closer to the teacher. His voice lowered as he spoke, his eyes becoming almost shadowed.

"Considering what happened on Callis, I find the line that defines friend from foe may be more an illusion that anything else we might wish. That Dark Warrior had an intimate knowledge of Owen and me and the only place that Knight Lars and I had ever interacted before was here, at the Temple."

Bruck stepped away and glanced over the padawans with a sad expression. "These students may mean no harm, but that doesn't mean your guards are not aware of what happened on your home planet. They know that just because someone is wearing the garb of a Jedi doesn't necessarily mean they are friend and they are prepared to defend you no matter who attacks."

Benjamin closed his mouth with a thoughtful expression on his face as Bruck turned back to the padawans.

"Now, what shall I do with you?" he sighed.

"Leave them to me, you will," Yoda's voice suddenly echoed from behind the gathered students who immediately parted to let the little master through.

"Master Yoda?" Bruck murmured as he bowed to the approaching Councilor.

"Knight Chun," the Jedi master greeted with a nod and then looked past the knight. "Master Lars."

The teacher nodded in return but didn't speak.

"Take charge of these young ones, I will," Yoda stated again as he turned to Bruck. "No need to worry, have you."

Bruck studied the Councilor for a long moment before he bowed again. "Very well, Master," he said quietly as his eyes darted over the surprisingly relieved expressions of the students. He decided to push a little...just to see what Yoda would do. "I was going contact their masters about this incident."

Yoda just shook his head as he studied the padawans. "Make sure they are punished appropriately, I will," he said as he glanced back at Benjamin. "Take Master Lars to change his clothes, you will."

The knight looked curiously at Ben who just looked confused. "Why would I need to change, Master Yoda?" he asked warily. "I just got here."

One of Ben's guards, the one who had pushed him back against the wall, cleared his throat and looked a bit guilty. "I'm sorry, Master Lars," he said as he glanced first at Ben, then at the wall he had pressed Benjamin against. "But...." He hesitated and then reached out to touch Ben's back before he showed the teacher his now gray fingertips. "I think that wall must have just been painted."

Ben stared at the guard's gray fingertips before he slowly closed his eyes. "And of course, I didn't bring any clothes with me today," he sighed. Then he glanced over at his liaison. "Bruck, would you happen to have something I can borrow?" he asked plaintively.

"Yes, of course," the knight hurriedly assured his charge. "I should have something you can wear." He stepped forward and gripped Ben's shoulder which he immediately released as he encountered the layer of gray paint on the back of the teacher's clothing. "Come on. We'll go to my quarters and then head over to your classroom."

The knight gave the padawans a last narrow, rather thoughtful look and then bowed to Yoda before he led Ben and his two bodyguards away from the group of students. The padawans watched him go for a few moments before they turned, as one, to look at the small master.

Yoda said nothing as he walked around the group, eyeing each padawan. He remained silent as he waited for Bruck and Benjamin to move out of Force enhanced hearing range. It didn't take a Jedi master to know that Bruck was very aware that Yoda was up to something. He had always liked that insight in Knight Chun.

Finally, after a long few minutes where the padawans had actually started to worry over Master Yoda's silence, the small master glared up at them.

"Better plan, you will come up with next time," he stated firmly. "Better ways there are, of achieving your goals, without being blown away."

The padawans flushed and looked embarrassed.

"Sorry Master Yoda," Padawan Lorn replied for the group. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Bruck held up Ben's tunic and studied the gray paint for a long moment before he dropped in into the laundry chute for cleaning. The laundry had been notified about the Consort's clothing but until they were cleaned and returned to Bruck's suite, Ben would just have to wear what the young knight had available.

The Jedi was still trying to figure out why those senior level padawans had been in the docking bay hallways running around like initiates on a sugar rush. And the fact that Yoda just 'happened' to be in the vicinity as well to take said padawans in hand rather than Bruck packing them off to their masters was even more worrisome. Why would the Head of Council concern himself with the activities of a group of rowdy padawans? And why did said padawans not look in the least bit worried as they were escorted off with the Head of the Jedi Council after almost creating an Incident with the Consort's guards?

There was only one explanation and that was that Yoda was up to something involving Benjamin.

Bruck sighed silently and wondered if he could badger the Council into giving him a mission off-world. The entire Temple knew to be wary when Yoda was plotting and Bruck had had more than enough of the old master's influence and interference on Callis. Bruck still had to wonder how he'd gotten involved with the Chancellor's Consort in the first place.

The knight's thoughts were interrupted by a rather plaintive voice floating out of his room.

"Are you sure this is all you have to lend me?"

Benjamin's tone almost sounded like a whine and Bruck sighed again.

"Yes, I'm sorry," he said as he moved toward his bedroom where his friend was changing. "I don't have much in the way of casual wear and that is being laundered."

There was silence for a moment before the bedroom door slid open and Benjamin slowly walked out with an unreadable expression on his face. He pulled and tugged on the tunics that he wore, looking awkward and extremely uncomfortable. Ben's expression, however, detracted only slightly from the almost perfect image of a senior padawan. Even his shoulder-length hair was pulled back in his customary tail, giving the impression of a padawan's shorthaired cut.

Bruck just stared for a moment before he found his voice. Even given their basic differences in looks, Benjamin reminded him an awful lot of Owen the last time Bruck had seen him before he was knighted.

"You look...good, Ben," he said softly as he studied his friend. Benjamin just grimaced slightly as he tugged again on his cream-colored padawan tunic.

"I feel like an idiot," Benjamin replied, glancing down at his clothing. Despite his words, however, the shorter man slowly ran his fingertips almost reverently down the fabric of his tunic.

"You look a lot like Owen did when he was a padawan," Bruck stated softly as he moved closer and absently reached out to adjust Ben's overtunic slightly.

"I do?"

The knight noticed the wistful tone of his friend but said nothing. He just nodded.

"Is there a..." Benjamin's words faded as he shook his head and dropped his hands. "Never mind."

"There is a mirror just inside the fresher door if you'd like to see what you look like," Bruck said while looking over the Chancellor's Consort and thinking what a damn shame it really was that Benjamin Lars hadn't come to the Order along with his brother.

Ben glanced up at Bruck for a moment before he made his way silently over to the fresher. He stepped inside almost hesitantly before he turned to stare at the image standing before him in the mirror. The knight followed after his friend and was surprised at the pained expression that passed over Ben's face when he looked at his reflection.

"Ben?"

The young man glanced at him for a moment before he returned his attention to his image. His eyes were almost haunted as he studied his image.

"I always wanted to be a Jedi Knight," Benjamin finally said, his tone low and wistful. "I was almost sent to the Temple when I was five but my father denied the request at the last minute to spite my mother. He said the Temple was nothing but a training hall for prostitutes and while they were welcome to Owen, he'd be damned if he'd let me go."

Ben sighed as he dropped his eyes to the worn boots Bruck had lent him. "I was only five but I remember my father yelling that into my mother's face in the middle of the Callis spaceport. And I remember crying as he dragged me away from the knights who'd come to take me to the Temple."

Bruck took great care not to react to Ben's words other than to continue listening. His mind raced, though, as several hints that Owen had dropped over the years concerning his father suddenly made sense. Even as those pieces fit together in his mind, there were several other things that occurred to Bruck in those silent moments as he stared at his new friend, things that once again reinforced his belief that nothing was coincidence and that the Force guided even the smallest acts in one's life.

"That was not well done by your father, Ben, but consider this: had you become a Jedi your relationship with Chancellor Jinn would have been far different. You certainly wouldn't be wearing that rythieum band around your finger."

"What?" That caught Ben's attention immediately and the teacher stepped out of the fresher. "Why do you say that?"

Bruck gestured to his couch and seated himself as Ben settled beside him. "You know the Temple spends years teaching its students the many and varied ways of bringing pleasure to the members of the Senate and anyone who might directly affect the success of a mission," the knight said seriously as he looked directly at Ben.

The teacher slowly nodded.

"But what you don't realize, what most sentients don't realize, is that the Temple spends just as much time teaching its students to distance themselves from those missions. When a Jedi takes a Senator or a monarch to bed or vice versa, it's a mission, an assignment. We are taught to bring pleasure, but it's a pleasure of the Moment, nothing more. Our bodies are simply another tool we use to accomplish a mission."

Benjamin stared at his friend, his expression becoming dismayed. "But surely you know love," he practically whispered. How could he have written so much about the Order and never understood the simple fact that Bruck was now explaining?

"Of course, we know love," Bruck stated firmly. "There are rare occasions when a Jedi might bond with another Jedi and take no other after that. You will also find there are no stronger bonds of love and affection than those between Jedi yearmates and their padawan mentors and masters. Owen was my senior mentor and I couldn't have been paired with a better one." The knight smiled fondly as he considered his time as a padawan. Then he returned his gaze to Ben's.

"But Jedi are brought up to understand that what the average Republic citizen might consider love - or rather being in love - is not something that we will likely find and certainly not in our assignments. We are trained to see the onset of such an emotion in our charges and then taught how to quietly avert the feelings to something else. We are there to complete a mission not form a bond of love."

Benjamin just blinked and then rubbed the back of his neck. "So, if I had been raised a Jedi, when it finally was my turn at the Senate rotation, I would likely have seen Qui-Gon Jinn as just another assignment?" he asked, his words holding disbelief.

"More than likely," Bruck replied.

"That's almost what Master Mirra said," Ben reflected softly. "That had she met him outside the Order, she would have loved Qui-Gon but after she'd been called to his service, she couldn't ever consider him anything other than a friend."

"And that is why you never became a Jedi, Benjamin Lars," Bruck stated in a firm tone as he reached out to touch Ben's shoulder. "Not because of your father's words or actions. The Force knew what it was doing when it directed you onto the path you followed. Some beings are born with a destiny and yours was to be with Qui-Gon Jinn. That would never have happened had you been Jedi so...."

"I didn't become a Jedi," Ben finished for him, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"And is that such a bad thing, Benjamin?" Bruck asked gently. "You have accomplished much in your life, touched millions of sentients with your books and touched hundreds individually as a teacher. There is many an ancient master Jedi who cannot say the same."

Benjamin gently caressed the soft fabric of the Jedi tunic he wore as he thought about Bruck's words. He remembered Qui-Gon saying much the same thing about his writing back in the basement of his home on Callis not that long ago, but he hadn't really taken his lover's words to heart. Qui-Gon was supposed to try and make him happy.

But listening to Bruck and hearing the conviction in his tone, Benjamin could almost believe he had been guided away from the Jedi by the Force just so he could stand beside Qui-Gon and take a Vow of Commitment, a relationship that would have been impossible had he been a Jedi.

And how had he missed that?

The writer slowly ran his fingers through his hair, lost in thought. He had studied the Jedi Order for so long; tried to bring it to life within the pages of his books but he'd missed this one, giant aspect of the Order that, more than anything, allowed the Jedi to continue to serve the Republic. They absolutely could not become deeply, emotionally involved with their charges without suffering a loss each time their mission was completed. So they formed their bonds within the Order, knowing that their yearmates, mentors and masters would be there when they returned to the Temple.

He was considering that concept when he glanced up with an intent gaze on the knight beside him. "But what about you and Vellen?" he asked, his tone flat.

Then it was Bruck's expression that turned wistful as he leaned back into the stuffed cushions on his couch. "Vellen knew what she was getting into with me, Benjamin. It is something we have discussed. She understands that I cannot make a commitment to her and I understand that she has plans for her life that will not include me."

Benjamin's eyebrows rose. "You two have actually discussed that?" he asked and Bruck nodded. "And Vellen was okay with that?" The knight just nodded again and the teacher studied his friend with a careful gaze. "And you're okay with that?"

Bruck eyes slanted away from Ben's and he stood. "I believe you were anxious to get some last minute things finished with your new classroom, weren't you Benjamin?" the knight asked as he moved towards the door to his suite.

The teacher watched his Temple liaison move purposefully towards the door before he stood and followed, keeping any further comments to himself. Bruck had just spent the last several minutes explaining why Jedi were trained not to form attachments outside of the Order. It probably would not be helpful to point out that just because Jedi are trained not to form attachments, didn't mean it wouldn't happen anyway.

The teacher had removed the padawan's sash and overtunic as soon as they were safely ensconced in his classroom and dropped it on his desk. He'd felt quite conspicuous as he moved through the Temple into the Educator's wing. He felt as if everyone were staring at him though Bruck had hastily assured him that was not the case. Besides which, he'd only have to wear the padawan garb for another few hours as the launderers figured out how to get that gray paint out of Ben's clothes.

Now he wore only the light under tunic tucked securely into white pants and the pair of light brown boots Bruck had supplied. Currently, said boots were propped up on Ben's desk as the teacher surveyed his new domain.

As he watched a multitude of expressions cross Ben's face, the knight thought privately that, except for his long hair, Benjamin could be one of any number of padawans lounging in the study halls, considering his next slew of tests. The writer had been thoughtful ever since the pair had left Bruck's quarters and Bruck had not intruded on his contemplation. There had only been a few more adjustments to make to the room before Ben nodded to himself and plopped down onto his desk chair. Then he leaned back, propped his feet on the desk and stared at the ceiling.

After several long minutes of silence, Bruck was beginning to wonder why there was such a fuss to become a Consort's liaison. He eyed the desktop before him, trying to decide if it would be insulting to Ben if he brought up his mail when the writer gave out a long, weary sigh.

"You know, Bruck, with what you've pointed out about Jedi relationships it makes the whole premise of Obi-Wan and Quinn getting together wrong," Ben stated almost sadly. "If I'm to remain true to the Order then Obi-Wan shouldn't be hanging around the Senate solving internal conflicts since he's been Knighted. He should be off chasing Hutts or something."

Breathing an inward sigh of relief that Ben seemed to be worrying over his next book and not his life's path, Bruck leaned back in his seat. He tapped his own fingers thoughtfully on the desktop.

"Actually, I hadn't realized you were heading them towards a monogamous relationship," the Jedi noted calmly. "I suppose I was looking at your stories from a Jedi perspective and from that aspect, Obi-Wan could well continue an on-going relationship with the Chancellor, just as Master Windu did until her injuries. But the Chancellor would not be his only assignment or his only mission.

"Plus, new knights are rarely kept in the Temple." Bruck gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. "But with myself as an example, you can see that it can happen. On the whole, they are sent out on assignments paired with an older knight for about a year and then evaluated as to where they would be most effective."

Benjamin leaned his head back again and stared at the ceiling. After a few more minutes of silence, he said, "I suppose I'd best be coming up with a knight character to mentor Obi-Wan into the field then." His tone was reluctant and his words ended with a sigh. "If I'm to remain true to the general way the Order works, the seventh book should have Obi-Wan taking off-world missions."

The writer practically groaned as his feet hit the floor and he glared at Bruck. "Actually, the sixth book should have been Obi-Wan taking off-world missions but it's too late for that now as the completed first draft has been delivered to my publisher and Oyarra loved it. Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" Ben demanded.

Bruck gave him a wide-eyed look, his Jedi serenity deserting him as his mouth opened and closed in surprise at the accusation. Benjamin just crossed his arms, a huffy expression on his face.

"Anything else you'd care to share, Knight Chun?"

"Not really," Bruck said quickly.

Benjamin glared at him another few moments before he leaned back again and stared at the ceiling.

"But Ben, you have to know that I've heard no one in the Order complain that the writer of Obi-Wan Kenobi was doing a shoddy job of creating the character of a Jedi padawan and knight. If Obi-Wan Kenobi were just another Jedi character, you wouldn't have the padawan population - and they know from Jedi - lined up to take your classes in the hopes of getting the scoop on what happens next in the series. Kenobi is unusual so it's not unexpected that the unusual would happen to him."

The writer was watching Bruck now with an intent gaze. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

Bruck rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair again. "It's a good thing you didn't come to the Temple, Ben," the knight stated without a doubt. "We would have been year mates and you are bloody high maintenance."

Benjamin stared at him for a long minute before he leaned back and laughed. "Yes, I suppose I am," he agreed with a grin. "It's a writer thing."

Before that conversation could continue further, however, one of Ben's guards stepped into the room and the writer looked up with an inquiring expression.

"Sir, there are two padawans who would like to speak with you. On a matter of some urgency, they say."

Benjamin blinked for a moment. Then he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. After a moment he nodded.

"That's fine, Lt. Jopik," he said. "And in the future, unless you deem them a safety hazard, please don't hesitate to let anyone in to see me who needs to."

The guard just nodded and a moment later, two senior padawans walked into the room, escorted by Lt. Jopik. The guard didn't leave once he was inside but took up his post just beside the door. Benjamin ignored him and turned to the two wide-eyed padawans staring at him.

When they didn't speak after a minute or so and continued to stare at Ben in his understated padawan gear. Ben just raised his brows.

Bruck noticed almost immediately that these two padawans had been present this morning at the docking bay. He wondered why they had appeared again and laid good odds it was something to do with Master Yoda.

"May I help you padawans?" Ben asked politely.

The pair just looked at him for another few seconds before the female padawan elbowed her male companion. The boy jumped and then blushed.

"Ah, yes, sir. I'm Padawan Lorn and Master Yoda sent us to ask if you could come speak with him for a few minutes. He has something he'd like to discuss with you."

Benjamin looked at the pair of padawans, noting idly that they looked very familiar before he glanced back at Bruck. The knight's expression indicated that he didn't seem to have any idea what the little troll might want. This was unusual behavior for the Councilor. Usually Yoda would just appear and interrupt whatever Benjamin was doing and from the past several weeks of his acquaintance with Master Yoda, Ben had learned fast to be leery of a polite Yoda.

"Actually, I'm pretty busy here, padawans," he hedged as his mind searched to find a reason why he couldn't join Yoda at this moment. His survival instinct had just kicked in.

The two apprentices, however, just looked at each other in panic. Then Lorn stepped forward. "Please Instructor," he said in a tight voice. "Master Yoda was most emphatic that he needed to see you."

Benjamin took in the frantic expressions on the two young faces and sighed before he nodded. "All right," he sighed but didn't feel any better at the extreme relief expressed by the padawans.

"Thank you, Instructor," the girl said. "I'm Padawan Ma'ta. If you'll just come with us?"

Benjamin nodded and then picked up his outer tunic and shrugged it on. As he glanced at the two padawans, he couldn't help but notice their expressions of disappointment. With an inward sigh, he wrapped the sash around his waist and then waved to his liaison to join him.

"Lead the way, Padawan Ma'ta," the teacher said. The two padawans looked at each other and smiled before they walked out into the hallway. Benjamin scratched at the back of his neck for a moment, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He had a bad feeling about this.

P'ter Jaksun struggled not to cover his eyes and groan as yet another Jedi plowed hopelessly through the few lines of script that consisted of his audition.

The director glared across the classroom at his casting coordinator, Trijil, and wondered whose stupid idea it was to think that they could audition at the Temple and find a Jedi to play the staring role in his upcoming movie. Certainly the character was a Jedi but these Jedi couldn't act their way out of a paper bag! They were beautiful and powerful and sexy as hell but not a one of them could pull off the character of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The director rubbed his eyes and pulled out another couple of painkillers that he downed with a gulp of juice for his heartburn. Thank the stars this was the very last candidate. He didn't think he could tolerate even one more audition today. He hoped the Jedi wouldn't be too offended when he told the Order to bugger off.

The last candidate looked hopefully at the casting director who, from years of experience, just gave the young man a neutral smile. The knight grinned and then left the room.

"All right," P'ter said with a weary tone. "Let's pack up and get the hells out of here."

However, before anyone could move, the classroom door slid open again, but this time, a small green being dressed in Jedi robes shuffled into the room, his large eyes taking everything in at a glance before he headed over to the casting coordinator. With a groan, P'ter leaned forward to catch the conversation. Surely this creature didn't expect to audition.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we're just wrapping up our casting for the part of Obi-Wan Kenobi today. Besides we are seeing only human applicants," Trijil told the newcomer.

"Applying for the part of Obi-Wan, I am not," the little Jedi said calmly. "Help you find him, though, I can. Be here soon, he will. Wait, you will."

"Wait for who?" the casting coordinator asked, glancing across at P'ter with a raised brow.

"For Obi-Wan," the creature said. "For the one who will play Obi-Wan. Seen it, I have. Wait you will."

Trijil looked at the little Jedi warily before she glanced over at the director. He rolled his eyes and just nodded before he held up five fingers.

"Very well, we can wait five minutes but no longer," she said as the Jedi nodded.

"All I need, that will be," he replied and then levitated into the chair just beside her. "Cast anyone, have you, for Oparth kal J'ilarmi?" he queried as he made himself comfortable.

She looked down at the creature with raised brows. "We have not as yet announced anything but we have made an offer."

The creature pouted. "Better could you do, with a Head Councilor being played by the Head Councilor," he grumbled.

The coordinator's eyes widened as she looked down at her new companion. "Perhaps, but as I understand it, Master Yoda is very short and is not a Jeraxion."

"Judge me by my height, do you?" the being asked, his green eyes meeting hers like a pair of lasers.

"Ahhhh..." she began but the door sliding open saved her from having to answer. She glanced over just in time to see a Republic guardsman enter the room, thoroughly look over each sentient present and then nod before he stepped aside. Then two padawans entered the room and moved towards the Jedi seated beside her.

But Trijil didn't take any further notice of the two Jedi apprentices nor of the white-haired knight who followed them. Her eyes had narrowed to view the Jedi who'd stepped in just after them.

Of medium height and build, the knight - for he could only be a knight with hair that long, no matter that he was dressed as a padawan - had russet colored hair and a familiar smile. Where had she seen it before? She knew she would have marked it if she'd seen it recently because as far as she was concerned, Obi-Wan Kenobi had just walked into the room.

"Told you, I did," the creature beside her chortled gleefully as he poked her on her leg with his stick. "Obi-Wan Kenobi he is, hum?"

The coordinator didn't reply, as she was busy exchanging meaningful glances with her director. She could tell he was very interested in the man who'd just entered the room and she smiled. For once they would be in perfect agreement over a candidate. Now if only the knight could act.

"Master Yoda," the man said with a wary glance at the other occupants of the room. "Padawan Ma'ta said you needed to see me?"

Trijil couldn't keep a smile off her face. That tenor voice was perfect, smooth with a cultured accent.

"Indeed, Master Lars, your help do I need," the little Jedi stated as he jumped off his chair. "Auditioning I am, for Oparth kal J'ilarmi. Your advice, I would have."

The casting coordinator glanced down at the little Jedi thoughtfully before she glanced up at the newest arrival. He was looking rather flummoxed. And didn't he look just adorable with that expression on his face?

"Master Yoda," the man said gently. "Oparth is a Jeraxion. That species is about six times your size. You don't really fit the part. I'm sorry."

Yoda rapped his walking stick sharply on the floor. "Head Councilor should I be. Fix it, you will."

Trijil watched as the young man rubbed his forehead, obviously trying to come up with an answer. She didn't envy him. After a few moments, he knelt down before the master on one knee. The coordinator beamed. She could almost see him, kneeling to take instructions from a Master Jedi.

"Master, you've read my books. There are reasons why Oparth is a Jeraxion. I can't change that just so you can play his part in this vid."

Yoda looked up at the young man calmly but the casting coordinator could almost see the Head of Council's lower lip protruding minutely in a...pout?

"Promised you did," Yoda stated firmly. "Let you teach at the Temple if in the vid I would be."

The knight's eyes narrowed slightly as he stood and glared down at the Councilor. "That was never in the bargain, Master Yoda, and you know it. A copy of the next book before it is published was the deal."

Trijil was confused by their conversation but she ignored it until her director discreetly elbowed her in the back with enough force to make her stumble forward a pace or two. Her movement brought the knight's gaze to her and she couldn't help but sigh. Oh yes. He would be Obi-Wan.

"Well since Master Yoda can't audition, not being tall enough, perhaps you wouldn't mind trying for the role?" she said, bringing out her most persuasive smile as she stepped towards the pair. "We're auditioning for the part of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the new Master/Apprentice movie. We were hoping to get a Jedi to play the part if possible." She beamed up at him and held out a thin comp pad. "Perhaps Master Yoda could play Master Al-Dan Esan opposite you as Obi-Wan."

The knight's eyes widened at her words but he took the comp pad absently and glanced down at the words. After a moment, however, his lips pressed together and he glared down at the small Jedi master.

"This was the urgent matter you needed to speak to me about?" he asked, brandishing the paper-thin comp pad. "You want me to audition for the part of Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Perfect, would you be," Yoda said calmly in the face of Benjamin's obvious anger. "Know the character, you do."

"That doesn't mean I want to play him in the vid!" the writer snapped as his eyes drifted over the words on the comp pad. He recognized the scene immediately. It was placed shortly after Obi-Wan had passed his junior padawan assessments. "And besides, I am way too old to be playing a senior padawan."

"We can make you look younger," Trijil suddenly interjected. "All we'd like you to do now is read opposite Master Yoda here." She looked up at him hopefully. "To give us an idea of how you act."

"Please, Master Lars," the female padawan - Padawan Ma'ta, Ben remembered - echoed the older woman. "You'd be perfect in the part!"

Benjamin looked at her thoughtfully. "Weren't you in the docking bay hallway this morning, Padawan?" he asked as he glanced from Ma'ta to her companion. Both padawans stepped back behind Master Yoda with guilty expressions on their faces. Ben sighed before he turned to Bruck. "Were you in it as well?"

Knight Chun just held up his hands. "I had no idea, Ben," he said firmly. "I'm just the liaison. No one tells me anything."

"Enough chatter," Yoda stated, stamping his stick on the hard floor with an echoing rap. "Audition, you will; Obi-Wan, will you be." The little being looked up at Benjamin with an appealing gaze. "Seen it, I have. A Jedi will play this part and none in the temple have pleased this female."

"Master Yoda, I am not a Jedi," Benjamin said slowly, as if he needed to use simple words.

"You're not?" two voices asked, the coordinator and the director staring at him.

"But your clothes!" Trijil continued as she gestured to his padawan tunic. "And you're certainly pretty enough to be one."

"Know about the important things, you do," Yoda insisted to Ben. "Wrote it, you did. Pretend, you can."

His old green eyes caught Ben's gaze and he gestured for the man to kneel before him. With a sigh, Benjamin knelt on one knee and glanced over the comp pad.

"All right, Master Yoda, but don't think this alters our deal. I'm still not teaching that advanced class," he noted absently as he read over the familiar lines again.

Had he glanced up at that moment, however, he would have seen an expression that had brought worry to many padawans and knights not to mention masters over the years. Master Yoda was smirking.

Bruck shuddered and wondered if he should request an assignment to the Outer Rim. He hoped Ben would survive whatever the little troll was planning. As it was, when Benjamin looked up to signal his readiness, Yoda appeared as inscrutable as ever.

"Ready, are you, to follow the path of the Jedi?" Yoda asked, hardly following the syntax of Obi-Wan's master but getting the gist of the words.

"Yes, Master, I am ready," Ben read before looking down at the little master. "All my life I've been ready to follow this path."

Master Yoda as Master Al-Dan Esan smiled. "Known this, have I, padawan. Since first I chose you from the Initiate's Hall." The Councilor's face smoothed out then, becoming stern. "A hard life, a Senior Padawan has. Most important become your classes, missions, rotations. Little time, is there for yourself."

Ben glanced over the words one last time before he set the comp pad down and turned back to Yoda. "Master, I know this and it's what I want. I am prepared to serve the Jedi with mind, heart and body. Whatever is asked, I will give."

Yoda looked up at the earnest man before him and nodded. "Very well. Cast off the rank of Junior Apprentice and take on the rank of Senior Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Thank you, my Master," Ben said quietly and then he grinned and picked up the comp pad and stood, his eyes moving farther along the script.

"Considering this is where Al-Dan and Obi-Wan get hot and heavy, I think we'll skip that part," he noted absently as he scanned the script.

Yoda nodded before he turned to the Coordinator. "Obi-Wan, he is," he stated and Trijil nodded absently as she glanced at the director.