Master Apprentice Archive Nightfall Quick search:

Summary: As the Republic crumbles and the Jedi Order is destroyed, Bail and Obi-Wan must part ways.

Rating: Thank you, MPAA! Now I have an excuse not to do ratings anymore. This story contains no sex, swearing, or violence.

Homage: George, you da man. Thank you for letting us play in your sandbox. It's my favorite sandbox in the galaxy.

Note 1: This story is part of my Obi/Bail series. The movie, not surprisingly, has contradicted some of my speculations in "Batter My Heart." I'll leave it to your imaginations to deal with the resulting inconsistencies. However, I'd like to point out that the soundtrack of the movie is garbled. Bail does not say "My wife and I," he says, "All my life I." And that woman he takes Leia to? Is his sister. That's my story; I'm sticking to it.

Note 2: Some of the dialogue and situations are taken from the novelization.

Story order:
Perhaps
Maybe
Falling
Back for Seconds - Obi-Wan and Bail
Bailing Bail
Padawan Games
Greener Pastures
Forgiven
Reality Check
Better Than Destiny
A Cross-Cultural Affair
Deconstruction
Reconstruction
Rewoven
Night Visitor
Father Figure
A Model Padawan
Not All Dreams Are Visions
You Don't Bring Me Flowers
Dangerous Fame
Labyrinth
Private Lessons (off-site link)
Owner's Mark
Epicenter
Duty
Penumbra
Nightfall
Batter My Heart

Coruscant was still beautiful. Lights shimmered in the night like jewels, the ships passing in their lanes overhead like so many firebeetles. How could so much have changed, and yet the nightscape retain its loveliness?

But Bail had lived here long enough that he could recognize the subtle differences in the view before him. Pockets of darkness were scattered across the vista, where days before detritus from the battle above the planet had fallen, destroying buildings and knocking out power. The damage was more visible during the day, but even under the cover of darkness Bail could see the scars. And if he looked toward the west, he knew what sight he would encounter: the glow of a great fire, belching red smoke that stretched a kilometer in the sky. But he did not look to the west. He'd been there when the fire had been kindled. He'd rushed to offer assistance, guessing that the Separatists had attacked the Temple itself. He'd wanted to help evacuate the younglings. He'd been foolish enough to believe -.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but behind his closed lids he saw those deadly lights again -- blaster bolts, the beam of a saber, a child torn to pieces by a hail of fire. Bile rose in his throat and he opened his eyes again, training his gaze on the familiar, ordinary lights of Coruscant. Don't think of it, he told himself. Don't look to the west. You don't need to see. It's still there, just the way you've always known it. A deep part of him knew he was lying to himself, but he ignored it, concentrating on keeping his breathing even. Just another night. Just an ordinary night. And Obi-Wan is alive.

Don't think of who is dead. Think only of that one fact: Obi-Wan is alive. And Yoda. With the two of them, all would be well. Somehow.

When the Tantive had picked up Obi-Wan's signal, Bail's heart had stopped in relief. But the Obi-Wan who staggered on board was not the man Bail knew. The Jedi's eyes had passed over him as if he weren't even there. When Yoda told Obi-Wan what had happened, that the Clone Army had attacked the Jedi everywhere, that they had received no other signals, Obi-Wan had started to shake. Bail had seen those tremors all too often over the past three years, but this was different: much more severe, like a seizure. Obi-Wan had been unable to stand, unable to talk, almost unable to breathe. Bail could still feel those muscles twitching against his palms when he had tried to support Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan had pushed him away.

Pushed him aside.

Bail had stood nearby, helpless, as Yoda and Obi-Wan conferred together. At Yoda's calm instruction, Obi-Wan had once again assumed the mantle of duty. Bail could see it fall over him like a cloak of armorweave, stilling the tremors, and Bail had wanted to rip it free. No! Scream! Cry out! Don't just take this in stride! He'd hated Yoda at that moment, wanted to kick the little troll across the deckplates. He wanted to spirit Obi-Wan away, keep him safe. But flight was not the Jedi way, and Bail had had to stand by and watch as Yoda and Obi-Wan assumed the responsibility of being the sole Jedi survivors.

At their bidding, he'd brought them back to Coruscant and they had parted ways, each to their own circle: he to the Senate and they to the Temple.

But the Republic had been destroyed just as surely as the Jedi Order. So Bail waited, here on the roof of some random building, standing by his speeder for when the Jedi would call on him. And as he waited, he looked out across the nightscape and pretended not to see the death scars. He folded his arms across his chest, tucking his hands against his sides, and watched the traffic pass by. Nothing has changed. It's still there. It's just another night, like so many thousands before.

He managed to pass into a kind of waking sleep, and when his commlink finally buzzed, it startled him back to awareness. The call came from Yoda, not Obi-Wan.

Without hesitation, he leapt into his speeder and took off, heading to the Senate building. The homing beacon led him to an access port in the overhang of the Senate's mushroom dome. He carefully maneuvered his speeder into place just as the access hatch opened and Yoda dropped into the seat next to him. Without bothering to look, Bail sped off into the night, heading toward the Tantive.

As they settled into their course, Bail finally turned and saw Yoda slumped against the side of the speeder, eyes closed. "Master Yoda," he asked in alarm, "are you wounded?"

The Jedi Master did not open his eyes. "Only my pride, young one. Only my pride."

The speeder descended onto the Tantive's landing pad, but Bail did not shut down the engine. He gestured for Yoda to exit the speeder, but the old master turned his large eyes on Bail. "No, Senator. Come with me, you must."

Bail glanced away - not to the west, but almost. "But -."

"On Coruscant, Obi-Wan is not. A mission he has."

"Mission?" Hope rose in Bail's heart. "Did you pick up signals from other Jedi?"

"No. The Sith apprentice."

Bail's fists curled against the speeder controls as he fought the effort to scream. "I thought you people said there were only two Sith. Just how many are there?"

"A new apprentice the Sith Lord has. Let us hope that Obi-Wan succeeds with the padawan where I failed with the master."

Bail frowned as Yoda climbed out of the speeder, moving feebly, as if all his bones ached. "Padawan?" Bail echoed.

Yoda's eyes widened before his calm once more returned. "No more do you need to know. Wait we must, to hear from Obi-Wan."

Impotent rage built up in Bail's chest. How could Yoda have sent Obi-Wan off to battle a Sith in his condition? And where had this new apprentice come from? No sooner did the Jedi kill one, then another sprang up to take its place. He gripped the speeder's controls so hard, his hand cramped painfully.

Yoda looked back at him, his mouth turned down in a slight frown. "Come, Senator. Need you, Obi-Wan will."

Bail squeezed his eyes shut, expelling his breath in a long string of curses. How he hated the little master, using Bail's loyalty to Obi-Wan to force his obedience. Biting back his anger, he leapt out of the speeder and stalked across the landing platform and up the Tantive's gangplank.

Somehow Yoda kept pace with Bail's long stride. As the entry hatch sealed, Bail said through gritted teeth, "What are your orders, Master?"

"Take us into orbit. Wait for Obi-Wan's signal we will."

"Yes, sir." He turned and nodded to Antilles, standing nearby, then glanced back down at Yoda. "And until then?"

Yoda stared unseeing at the bulkhead. "Meditate I will."

"Meditate? Now?"

"Now more than ever do I need it." The green head tilted to the side as Yoda looked up at him. "Join me, young one."

Bail gave a sharp sigh. "Master --."

"Come," Yoda said firmly as he waddled away down the hall. It was an order Bail would not be allowed to refuse.

Suppressing a growl, he followed the little master through the hall. Yoda found a conference room and entered, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of a viewport. Bail hesitated, watching the small figure settle into stillness. He wanted to go to the command deck, give orders, check the newsfeeds, do something. But Yoda was right: Obi-Wan would need him, and until then all they could really do was wait.

He crossed the room to Yoda's side and slowly lowered himself to the floor. Even at his age, he could still fold himself into the traditional posture for Jedi meditation, though the floor would soon grow hard on his backside. Obi-Wan had taught him how to meditate long ago. He didn't do it very often, certainly not as often as he should, but he always enjoyed it. The practice was calming. It refreshed him, clarified his mind, gave him peace. But right now he wanted none of those things. His heart was too full, his mind too troubled. Peace seemed like a horrible lie. So while Yoda sat quietly, communing with the Force, Bail stared out at the stars, gazing at the points of light much as he had mere hours before on that rooftop on Coruscant.

At least space had no west.

It seemed an eternity before Obi-Wan finally made contact. They rendezvoused at Polis Massa, but when Bail ran to Obi-Wan's ship he was greeted by the sight of an unconscious Padmé in the Jedi's arms. They rushed her to the medical facility, but it wasn't until after she was installed in the operating theater that Bail finally realized Obi-Wan had yet to even look at him.

As the medical droids hovered around Padmé, checking her vital signs, Bail stepped closer to Obi-Wan. He raised his hand to touch the Jedi's arm, but stopped short, letting his arm fall to his side. "Ben, what happened? Did you defeat the Sith apprentice?"

Obi-Wan looked sharply at him. The anguish in his eyes struck Bail like a physical blow, and he stepped back in shock. Obi-Wan opened his mouth. "I - the Sith --." His throat choked closed, and for a moment Bail feared Obi-Wan might begin to cry. And he knew that if Obi-Wan started to cry, he would never, ever stop. Bail had never seen him so undone.

But then the light in Obi-Wan's eyes flickered out and went dead, like the damaged pockets on Coruscant - black holes that seemed to swallow all light around them, unfathomable wells of darkness. Bail reached a shaking hand toward Obi-Wan, but he flinched away, turning those dead eyes back to the figure of Padmé lying on the operating table.

"The Sith is gone." His voice sounded old and dessicated. It grated like sand against Bail's ears.

Obi-Wan nodded toward Padmé. "You knew, didn't you?"

Guilt flashed through Bail. Amazing, that after so much tragedy, he still felt so guilty for this little betrayal. It seemed so insignificant now. "Yes, I did. She told me long ago, but she made me swear to secrecy first. I had no idea what she was going to tell me, and once I knew --."

Obi-Wan cut him off. "It doesn't matter."

Of course it didn't. There were no Jedi rules left for Anakin to break. Gently he asked, "Have you heard anything of Anakin?"

There was a brief flicker before Obi-Wan's lifelessness returned. "He is dead."

It hurt, more than Bail would have expected. "I'm so sorry."

But his words rolled off Obi-Wan like pebbles off a durasteel wall.

They stood watching the medical droids in silence, heard their reports. When they induced labor, Obi-Wan wordlessly brushed past Bail and entered the arena to stand by Padmé's side. Bail watched as Obi-Wan took her hand in his, leaned over her, whispering words of encouragement. How ironic. Obi-Wan had long resented Padmé's influence over Anakin. He saw her as an obstacle to Anakin's training. Yet now he was so tender with her, even loving. He almost sounded like his old self, his voice gentle and warm. Bail felt a surge of resentment. At Obi-Wan for showing such kindness, and Padmé for receiving it. At Anakin for having the good fortune to have died already. At the Senate for creating this mess, at Palpatine for duping them all, even beyond Bail's worst fears. At the Jedi for failing to save them. At Yoda for watching so silently, as if there was nothing he could say.

Bail did not want to witness this. He'd seen far too much death in the last few days, but it was not over yet. Scarcely had the twins been named, when they became orphans.

The three of them sat around the table, Bail and Yoda and Obi-Wan. For a long time no one spoke. Two Jedi and a Senator, and none of them knew what to do. Bail didn't know who he was anymore without a Republic. And who were these two silent strangers sitting across from him? None of it seemed real. The galaxy was in shambles, yet they were worried about two newborn babes.

"Separated they must be," Yoda said at last, his voice even more gravelly than usual. "Kept hidden. Safe."

"But how will they be trained?" Obi-Wan asked.

Furious, Bail bit back a retort. Trained? They were infants, fresh from the womb. They needed mother's milk, not lessons and drills. Unbidden, he remembered when Obi-Wan had first brought Anakin to Alderaan. The boy had been dressed up in a miniature Jedi outfit, his hair cut into a padawan buzz, yet he'd been an ordinary boy who needed to run and tinker with tools, who laughed and needed hugs. Obi-Wan had never really understood that, had never understood the need for family, for unconditional acceptance. The thought of Padmé's children growing up in such a sterile environment horrified him. Even Anakin, surely, would not want his children to be raised that way.

"I --." He paused, licking his lips. "Master Yoda, I - I know it's not my place, but the children must be kept safe. I've long wanted to adopt a child." He looked at Obi-Wan. Because of Obi-Wan, he had never become a father. "I could take the girl. I know I'm not a Jedi, but there is much I could teach her." His pulse quickened. He needed this child. He had to convince them to let him take her. "Please," he begged, "let me do this."

Slowly, Yoda nodded. "Other forms of discipline there are. Other training. With you she will learn much." His amber eyes were soft. "Including lessons the Jedi could not teach."

Relieved, Bail sagged back into his chair. His heart pounded in his chest, already filling with love for this child only minutes old. He raised his eyes to Obi-Wan, needing for him to understand, but Obi-Wan was not looking at him.

"And what of the boy?" Obi-Wan asked Yoda.

"Take him to his family on Tatooine, you must. Then we will watch and wait until the time is right."

"As you wish, Master," said Obi-Wan.

Bail waited, but still Obi-Wan did not look up at him. Rather, it was Yoda who addressed him. "One more favor we must ask of you, Senator. Deliver Obi-Wan and the boy to Tatooine. Then you may take me to my own exile. On Dagobah, I believe I will be well hidden."

"Of course, Master. And know that I will always be at your service." He stood up. "I will go and instruct the Captain to lay in a course." Bowing deeply to Yoda, and sparing a final glance at Obi-Wan, Bail left the room.

He had gone only half way down the hall before he realized he had no idea what sector Dagobah was in. Turning on his heel, he returned to the conference room, but he paused outside the door when he heard Yoda speaking.

"In your solitude on Tatooine, training I have for you. I and my new master."

"Your new master?" he heard Obi-Wan ask.

"Yes. And your old one. From the netherworld of the Force he has returned."

"Qui-Gon!"

The joy in his voice broke Bail's heart. He had been unable to bring Obi-Wan back to life. But his dead master had succeeded where Bail had failed. The Force had a sick sense of humor.

The trip to Tatooine was awkward. The three of them moved like ghosts about the ship, silent and ephemeral. Bail felt like he was floating in a haze. He had accessed the newsfeeds at one point, but he couldn't bear what he read. So he shut off the holonet and spent a lot of time staring out the viewport at the riot that was hyperspace. Once he went to check on the twins, but Obi-Wan was there, standing over the makeshift crib, tugging on his moustache. It was a gesture Bail had always found endearing, and the sight of it filled him with such intense love, he thought his heart would burst from it. He wanted to enter the room and take Obi-Wan in his arms, but he was too afraid. Obi-Wan still had not spoken to him, still hardly seemed to know he even existed. Even now, Bail was able to stand in the open doorway and watch, without Obi-Wan apparently even noticing.

The last three years had been hard. They were separated for such long periods, and on the rare occasions when Obi-Wan was on leave, he'd been so traumatized by the war that he seemed like a shadow of himself. Bail couldn't even remember the last time they had been able to have sex. They hardly ever spoke of anything important. There were too many dangerous subjects. He hoped that Obi-Wan found some comfort and respite in his time with Bail, but in truth he just didn't know. The loss of his fellow Jedi, and of Anakin in particular, seemed to have destroyed Obi-Wan. Jedi were not supposed to have attachments, but to have lost everyone like that -- home, family, job, religion -- even Yoda was deeply wounded by it. Bail tried to imagine what it would be like to lose Alderaan. The idea alone was too painful to even contemplate. He didn't know how to offer comfort for such grief.

He would have been content enough to just fly through space forever on the Tantive, with this specter of Obi-Wan roaming the halls - so long as he was near. But their arrival time for Tatooine drew near, and Bail didn't know what the future held. He gave orders for the starfighter Obi-Wan had arrived in to be prepared for the short trip. He had helped enough political refugees in the past year or so that he had fake identification chips on hand, as well as money to supply Obi-Wan with. Everything was ready.

With reversion less than an hour away, he retreated to the observation deck where he could be alone. He took a seat and looked out through the viewport, willing his heart to keep beating, his lungs to keep drawing in air. He wanted everything to stop: time, his heart, everything. If it stopped, then they could just stay this way. Nothing would happen. They could remain frozen in this moment. It didn't sound like such a bad plan.

The door behind him opened. He didn't have to look to know who it was. The click of boots on the floor was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat.

Obi-Wan sank into the chair next to him, and now it was Bail who couldn't bear to look up. He kept his face turned to the viewport.

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said.

Bail squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to hear any apology from Obi-Wan.

"I'm sorry I could never give you what you wanted."

Bail couldn't understand the words coming out of Obi-Wan's mouth. He turned at last to face him. "What?"

"There were so many things I wanted to give you, but I was unable to --."

"What things?" Bail asked, his voice cracking. "What is it that you think I wanted?"

Obi-Wan waved his hand, and Bail noticed it was trembling. "Things that as a Jedi I couldn't --."

"I've always known you were a Jedi. I wanted only what you could give me. Do you think I have regrets?"

"I--." Obi-Wan faltered, choking on his words.

"I wouldn't change a single thing. I have no regrets at all."

Obi-Wan's breath rasped in his chest, and Bail could see the tracks of tears sparkling on his cheeks. "I do." He had to struggle to get the words out. "Now. Now that everything has changed. I wish - I wish I could have --."

Bail rose and swiftly knelt in front of Obi-Wan, wrapping his hands around Obi-Wan's trembling fingers and bringing them to his lips. "We did what we had to. Both of us. That's all. It's enough."

Now Obi-Wan was looking at him, eyes shimmering with tears. Bail could hardly bear to see it, but he forced himself not to turn away, forced himself to look, to savor this memory and imprint it on his mind. He raised his hand to Obi-Wan's cheek, brushing away the dampness. But the tears continued to spill onto his fingers.

Not taking his eyes from Bail, Obi-Wan whispered, "If only I could --."

"No. No 'ifs.' No regrets. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. I wouldn't trade you for anything."

Obi-Wan slid out of the chair, falling forward into Bail's arms, and they held each other so tightly, Bail felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs. But he couldn't let go.

Obi-Wan's breath was moist on his neck. "I don't want to leave you."

"It's all right," Bail soothed, stroking Obi-Wan's hair, trying hard to believe his own words. "It's just like all the other times. We'll see each other again soon enough. Just promise me --." He shifted, pulling Obi-Wan from him so he could look into his eyes. He tried to think of a promise he could be sure Obi-Wan could keep. "Just promise me...that you'll take care."

Obi-Wan was shaking again. "I will," he stammered.

"I mean it." Bail took Obi-Wan's face between his hands. "Promise me!"

"I promise. I swear." And then he was sobbing against Bail's neck, clinging to him and letting all this awful grief flow out of him. And Bail held on to him and let him cry.

All too soon the warning buzzer sounded that they would be coming out of hyperspace. They separated, although their arms were still around each other. Obi-Wan searched Bail's face. "Bail --," he started, but seemed unable to find the words he wanted. "Bail --," he tried again.

"It's all right. You were never very good at talking, anyway. And I know what you mean."

Obi-Wan tried again. "I love--."

Bail laid his finger on Obi-Wan's lips. "Don't say it. You know how I always hated those words." Besides, they sounded too much like a benediction, too much like good-bye. "You don't need to say it. I already know."

Obi-Wan looked like he might start crying again, and Bail really didn't want that to happen. "Wait a minute," he said, an idea occurring to him. He dug through the infernal pockets on Obi-Wan's belt. After all these years, he knew exactly where Obi-Wan kept everything. He found the small utility knife, and opening it, sliced a lock of his hair off. "Here," he said, holding it out to Obi-Wan. "A token. Until we see each other again." Obi-Wan simply stared at it, as if he didn't know what to do with it. Bail tucked it into one of the belt pouches. Then he cut off a lock of Obi-Wan's hair, just behind his right ear, where a padawan braid would be. He kissed the golden lock and put it in his breast pocket. "And a token for me. Now come. You have a delivery to make."

Obi-Wan nodded absently. He seemed to have returned to his former, near-catatonic state. Bail briefly worried that Obi-Wan might not be fit to pilot the starfighter, but then he remembered that when duty called, Obi-Wan always, unfailingly, answered. He got to his feet and extended his hand to help Obi-Wan up.

They did not speak throughout their walk to the hangar. Yoda was waiting for them when they arrived. Obi-Wan climbed into the cockpit, and Yoda handed the infant Luke to him. It wouldn't be the safest way to transport a baby, but they didn't really have much choice.

Once they were settled, Yoda and Bail stepped back from the ship. Yoda nodded benevolently and raised his hand to Obi-Wan. "May the Force be with you."

Bail called upon all his strength so that the smile he could offer Obi-Wan would be genuine. "Take care, my Bendu," he said.

And for an instant, Obi-Wan smiled back. Just in his eyes. But the light was there, shining from deep within him. "You too, my prince."

The cockpit canopy slid closed, and the ship lifted from the deckplates and slid out the hangar bay. Yoda turned and walked out of the hangar, but Bail stood at the viewport and watched until the ship had disappeared into the glare of the desert planet beneath them. Then he, too, turned and went to see to his daughter.