Uneasy Allies

by Lilith Sedai

Balance the Force 4: Uneasy Allies
by Lilith Sedai

Archive: Master/Apprentice (not transferrable)

Categories: Slash, angst, action/adventure, Qui/Obi, darkfic, drama, AU

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Dark stuff of all kinds. Angst, graphic violence, dark imagery, dub-con. BAMF Misguided Mace. Evil Bastard Ambitious Dooku. Holy Crap There's Anakin Skywalker In This Thing Too. There are no thin sleep pants mentioned anywhere in this fic, which has to mean I'm breaking SOME kind of hard and fast rule. Mmmm, hard and fast!

Spoilers: At this late date, if you get spoiled for canon, it's your own fault. ;-)

Summary: Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's various manipulations and plots mature around those who are embroiled in them.

Feedback: It's been a long time since I've written in this fandom; I wasn't prepared for the Jedi boys to show back up and take over my life again. But I'm very glad they have, and I hope you are, too. I enjoy feedback, either on-list or off, but please know up front that I'm not particularly good at responding to it, especially when I'm consumed by RL responsibilities. If you would be offended by not receiving an in-depth response, please use your discretion. Still, there aren't a lot of Q/O people out there anymore, which greatly increases your chances. ;-) So does basic politeness.

Intellectual property disclaimer: I grovel before the mouse. Please, don't sue. But really, Disney. You guys aren't even selling Qui or Obi merchandise anymore. Surely this little dabble in the waters, conducted purely for fun and not for profit, shouldn't constitute a significant threat to your Galactic Empire....

Acknowledgments: Thanks to Merry Amelie for beta comments and encouragement. Thanks to Michele Lyons for insightful and inspirational comments about the Jedi Council and invaluable, timely support with the plot. Thanks to Rayphile for putting up with an unending influx of Jedi, plus all the nasty underlevel beasties, and thanks for helpful beta comments. Thanks to Ewan McGregor for Moulin Rouge, The Pillow Book, and Velvet Goldmine, and to Liam Neeson for Rob Roy and Kinsey and definitely also for the deliciously dark Henri Ducard. GUH! And finally, thanks go out to all those kind people who sent me comments and let me know that they were enjoying what I've written. :-)

NOTES: I'm creating a glossary for this fic as I go; I'll include the latest version of it with the zero post for each section of the story or at the end of the story on the archive. The glossary may contain spoilers.

Snippets of dialog here and there have been stolen from canon, especially Palpatine's speech.

PART I: FACTIONS

Master of the Order Mace Windu stood alone in the Hall of Knighthood, staring out at the cityscape surrounding the Jedi Temple. The horizon spread out around him, a panorama stretching the entire 360 degrees around the central spire. It was a favorite retreat of his, a quiet place where few came without definite purpose, a place where he was unlikely to be disturbed.

He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing about the mosaic tile of the circular room and gazing out through the windows at the sun-shimmered landscape surrounding him.

Windu's brow was heavily furrowed, the only clue that betrayed how deeply troubled he felt in mind and soul. The currents of the Force remained obdurate, swirling about him with maddening opacity, resisting his every effort to penetrate their mystery. Meditate though he might, he could find no peace or solace.

He reached into his pocket and drew out a datapad, his scowl deepening as he studied the information it held, as if hoping it had somehow changed since he first viewed it. His mind could hardly encompass the horror of the report, which revealed that deceased Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas had acted on his vague forebodings of war, obtained funding from private sources, and commissioned the growth of well over a million clone warriors on a remote, watery world named Kamino-- warriors that were nearly ready to be deployed in a conflict that had yet to begin.

He stabbed at the datapad, glowering at the file, wondering for the thousandth time who had sent it. The transmission had originated in a fabricated electronic mail account that could not be traced to an individual sender. It had simply appeared on his personal mail listing one morning, flagged as urgent and confidential, and careful investigations had confirmed the contents. It might be from anyone-- a benevolent agent under cover, a neutral Jedi who feared reprisals for sharing the information, or even a manipulative enemy. Intuition pointed toward a Jedi; who else could have penetrated the Archives' confidentiality protocols and attached the relevant data files-- files which had then been deleted tracelessly from the very Archives from which they had originated, leaving him in possession of perhaps the only copies. Or had others received them as well? He had no way to know.

Windu's mouth pinched tight with displeasure.

He thrust the pad deep inside his pocket once more, swirling in a flurry of robes and setting out rapidly across the center of the chamber, even though there was nothing to do but turn on his heel and stalk back again. His agitation overwhelmed the need for serenity; he faced a galactic civil war in the making.

Not only that, but he bore another burden, one that perhaps only he was aware of: he was fighting the disintegration of the Jedi Order, a slow and subtle progression which accelerated slightly every day in spite of anything he could do.

He had seen the shatterpoint a crucial few moments too late, after the newly knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi departed from the ceremony. The vision had come when Grand Master Yoda rose and followed Kenobi from the room. Windu had staggered, nearly fallen, as the chamber faded from his sight and in its place, he beheld the Jedi Temple broken as though by earthquake, gaping chasms ripping through the structure all the way to the sacred mountain at its core.

He had been slow to realize how his vision would manifest, and even slower to believe that the 800-year-old Grand Master of the High Council was responsible for the breaking. But by now he knew the truth of it: every day Jedi slipped away from the Temple, quietly following Yoda and Kenobi to Xinune, or just as quietly undertaking the Xinune contingent's work from a hundred other places in the galaxy. He had managed to trace a few of them, and had even arranged for an informant to infiltrate the Palazzo compound.

The Xinune faction seemed a peaceable enough enclave on the surface, but Windu knew better. They supported a controversial political agenda completely at odds with the official purpose of the Jedi Order, as decreed by the Senate. Many worked to smuggle humanitarian aid through Republic-sanctioned blockades, subverting Republic laws and proscriptions, ignoring vital legal checks and balances in the name of compassion. Worse yet, his informant reported rumors that some Jedi there had begun to train using heretical methods, violating the sacred doctrine of the Jedi Code that valued serenity over passion.

Windu rubbed his palm over his bald head, wiping away the oily sweat that gathered there. He would have to bring an accusation against Yoda eventually, but that would only accelerate the destruction, and the Jedi could not afford internal conflict, not with civil war on the horizon. He could hardly imagine how the situation could grow worse.

His commlink chirped, the special signal that indicated a request for the receiver to accommodate a holographic transmission, so he stepped to the side of the room and brought it up on the central comm.

"Chancellor Palpatine," he spoke, slightly surprised. "How can I be of service to you today?"

"Councillor Windu." Palpatine leaned forward, mingling his politician's smile with an urgency of manner, letting Windu know it was more than a social call. "I'm glad to catch you alone. I've received some rather interesting intelligence from one of my connections. It regards the Separatist faction."

Windu set aside his irritation and focused fully on the Chancellor. "Yes?"

"It seems the leaders of the Confederacy of Independent Systems are scheduled to meet in a private enclave on Geonosis. My information indicates they will discuss secession-- and if necessary, war." Palpatine hesitated. "I believe you are acquainted with the droid foundries the Geonosians maintain there, and the intelligence we have gained concerning vast sums of Separatist funding which has been channeled into them during the past few solar cycles."

Tension ratcheted up yet another notch in Windu's mind, and he felt the beginnings of a headache piercing his skull behind his left eye. "How do you plan to meet this threat?" he asked, aware that the question acknowledged a measure of his own indecision.

"I plan to offer a peace initiative to the separatist factions." Palpatine leaned forward. "To reason with them, to find common ground. I want to give them an easy out-- offer them legal forgiveness and protection, and to invite a diplomatic solution. I am desperate to prevent war, Councillor Windu, and I will risk my own credibility as Chancellor in service of peace, if I must."

Windu nodded slowly. "Where and how will you offer this initiative?"

"I will go to Geonosis to meet with them personally, as a token of good faith. And that is where you come in, Councillor. It is a risky choice, I know, so I must ask you to provide Jedi protection for my embassy."

"It's too risky." Windu shook his head. "Nobody knows how many droids the Separatists have already purchased from the Geonosians. They're almost certainly stockpiling them there."

"Councillor." Palpatine smiled, disarming. "I have the utmost faith in the Jedi, and in my own guards. Surely such a risk is worthwhile in the cause of peace."

Windu shook his head. "I strongly advise against it, but if you are resolved on this course of action, I think I can guarantee Jedi support." He could not envision Yoda openly refusing the will of the Senate and the Supreme Chancellor-- at least, not yet.

"I will not let this Republic that has stood for a thousand years be split in two. My negotiations will not fail."

"If they do, you must realize there aren't enough Jedi to protect the Republic. We are keepers of the peace, not soldiers."

Palpatine smiled at him soberly. "We must trust that we will not need an army, then. My initiative seems our last, best hope."

"I'll be prepared to present my arrangements to the Council when you make a formal announcement of your intent."

"Thank you." Palpatine smiled. "You are a good friend and ally, Councillor Windu."

"It's my duty to serve you, Chancellor." He terminated the conversation and rubbed futilely at the throbbing needle of pain over his eye. Impossible though it had originally seemed, his day was still getting worse.

Windu stared at the horizon for long moments, then punched at the comm screen, hailing the Flight Corps. "I want a fast ship with plenty of long-range capacity-- the smaller and faster the better. Most confidential."

This was his last shot at saving the Jedi; he had better make the most of it.

"Knight Kenobi." The voice behind him was young and shrill-- given their limited numbers, the Jedi on Xinune had to make do with available staff, and that meant junior padawans stood watch alongside knights and masters.

"Yes, Padawan Rysi?"

"I'm showing a single-man fighter leaving hyperspace, sir. One of the new Delta Sevens. It's hailing us using ambassadorial codes."

"Broadcast acknowledgment, with holo pickup pending." Obi-Wan simultaneously keyed the facility's defense screens and reached out into the Force, finding a familiar signature waiting there. He very nearly cursed aloud. "And call for Master Yoda!" He settled his robes around his shoulders, scrubbing a hand through his rebellious hair-- he never seemed able to find time to have it cut.

Taking a deep breath, he keyed the holotransmitter. "Master Windu. What an unexpected pleasure."

"Knight Kenobi." Windu nodded coolly. "I've come seeking a personal meeting with Councillor Yoda. Requesting permission to dock at your facility."

Obi-Wan sorted options at lightning speed-- to offer a neutral meeting ground would acknowledge that they were adversaries. The Force gave him no warning of deception, and so he decided.

"Permission granted. Follow the signal beacon, and I'll meet you there." He routed Windu to the least sensitive of their landing facilities, a clearing in the lower tier of the Palazzo gardens.

He paused over his console, augmenting the hasty security measures he had erected and giving Windu clearance to pass the shields. Gesturing for one of the knights, he issued his instructions. "Monitor him for aggressive action, and watch for signs that he's brought backup. At the least sign of a problem, lock down the entire compound, put both ground and aerial defenses on maximum, and send out a support team of our best swordsmen. I don't think he'll make trouble, but we don't want to be caught with our pants down."

The man agreed with a curt nod, taking over the console, and Obi-Wan trotted out, calling for Yoda.

"On my way, I am." Yoda sounded as serene as if he were discussing breakfast. "Will you be there in time for his disembarking?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan avoided the ponderous turbolifts and slid down the banisters of the access stair instead, nimbly reversing at the landings.

"Take care in what you tell him. Dangerous to say too much. Stall him, until I arrive."

"I will." Obi-Wan hit the last level at a trot, coming out into dazzling sunlight and slowing his pace to a sedate walk. He was in place well before the ship descended, relieved to see that the attack foils were not extended.

"Councillor Windu." He stepped up next to the ship as the man climbed from the cockpit, hooking his boots into the rungs along the wing and dropping gracefully to the grass. "Won't you come this way?"

He led Windu into the cottage that stood next to the landing pad, where the Palazzo staff maintained a seating area and a cooler with light refreshments to greet offworld guests. "Can I get you something?"

Windu shook his head, but Obi-Wan put on a kettle anyway, preparing tea for Yoda. He tapped in a call for Gida to be ready to furnish an extra meal, and went to sit with Windu, who was looking around the place as though waiting for a Sith to step out of the shadows.

"Master Yoda asked me to say that he would arrive shortly."

"This is quite a setup." Windu gazed out the window and up toward the top of the ridge, where one arm of the Palazzo was visible, climbing vines flowering along its stone terraces. "I understand it belongs to Qui-Gon Jinn."

"At one time," Obi-Wan acknowledged smoothly. "When Master Yoda and I arrived to investigate his activities, we found it abandoned. Currently the royal family is in residence."

Windu raised a brow. "Are they really."

"King Tiran can join us, if you like."

"No. This is Jedi business."

Obi-Wan took the kettle off the heat and poured the tea, letting it steep; as he did, Yoda entered the room, hobbling theatrically on his stick.

"Master Windu." Yoda took a seat on a hassock, crossing his legs. "Desire speech with me, you do?"

"With you, or whoever else is in charge of this facility."

Yoda regarded him levelly. "I am the senior Jedi here."

"And I'm too experienced to fall for your semantic tricks," Windu snapped. "Does Qui-Gon Jinn run this place, or do you?"

"Qui-Gon is not among us," Yoda said steadily. "In charge of the Jedi on Xinune, I am, by acknowledgment of Tiran, reigning monarch."

Windu settled back, getting a rein on his temper. "Finally you admit it."

"Nothing I see to admit, in this."

"You've been gathering Jedi here ever since you left Coruscant. I can see you're building a permanent facility, and drawing others to support your cause." Windu rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, his face intent. "Whatever that cause may be, it's clear you aren't in agreement with the High Council anymore, or with the Senate."

Windu paused as Yoda accepted a cup of tea from Obi-Wan, and accepted one himself, with a sigh. "Yoda, we can't afford to split the allegiance of the Jedi. Between the needs of the Trade Federation and the demands of the Separatists, the galaxy stands poised on the cusp of war. It's a war that will destroy the Republic and the Jedi. I've come today to try to reconcile this internal problem before it can damage the Jedi any further. It goes against all rules of diplomacy to weaken your position before an opponent, but I choose to believe we aren't opponents in this. Do you want war? Do you want to break the Jedi? I believe not, and we must use this as common ground to rebuild our common purpose."

"That is wisdom, Master Windu." Yoda held his tea gravely. "And well it is, that you have come here now, that you speak so frankly to me in this. Split the Jedi, I would not-- but disagree with the Council, I must."

"You aren't in possession of all the knowledge you need to make good choices." Windu stood, pacing around the room. "I have classified information that I haven't shared with the other Councillors."

"As do I." Yoda sipped his tea placidly, watching Windu with deceptively sleepy eyes.

"You forced my hand at Kenobi's knighting ceremony, and refused to share all your knowledge with me then." Windu gave Obi-Wan a brief stare. "Whether it was relevant or not, it has set a precedent of mistrust between us."

"Yes," Yoda acknowledged. "Regrettable, it was, but necessary."

"I don't care what you're hiding anymore." Mace shook his head, bitter. "I've already abandoned my pride to come here today, so before I leave, I'm going to make you aware of exactly what's at stake." He glared toward Obi-Wan. "Leave us, Kenobi."

"Stay, he will." Yoda set down his teacup. "Deeply concerned in these matters, is Obi-Wan."

The two masters locked eyes, staring, but Yoda did not falter, and finally Windu shook his head, exasperated. "Very well. I have computer files on this datapad to back up what I say, so I'll keep my summary short. Thanks to our old friend Sifo-Dyas, the Kaminoans are breeding a galactic army of clones, all but ready to step up and do battle for the Senate. Conveniently enough, the Separatist Confederacy is stockpiling its own army of battle droids on Geonosis. As you already know, some of the Jedi support the Senate, and others side with the separatists-- Councillor Dooku foremost among them.

"Chancellor Palpatine has become aware that the Separatists are soon to meet on Geonosis, preparing to secede. He plans to go to them and make a last plea for peace." He returned to the couch and folded himself onto it, staring Yoda square in the eye.

"I know you don't support the Senate, but I can't believe you're in league with the Separatists, either, and I know you don't want a war any more than I do. Order your people back and return to Coruscant with me, Yoda, and I pledge to vote with you on the Council in order to get humanitarian aid to those who've been injured on both sides-- or tell me what else you want, and I'll consider whether I can agree. You alone have the power to keep the Jedi united and work with me so that we can support the peace initiative and prevent this conflict." He ran out of words, so intent he nearly quivered in his stillness, and waited.

Yoda accepted the datapad and fingered it thoughtfully, scanning the information it held.

"This data you have, about the clones. Where did you get it?"

Windu took a deep breath. "I don't know. It's been verified, but the transmission originated anonymously. It had to be someone with access to the Jedi Archives."

Obi-Wan and Yoda exchanged a long, thoughtful look, and Obi-Wan stepped over to scan the files for himself, reading quickly. "He's right," he said quietly. "War seems all but inevitable."

"Carefully orchestrated, this has been."

"Yes."

"But by whom? The Sith Lord?" Windu clenched his fist, and then his eyes narrowed. "You think you know who he is. Obi-Wan must have obtained the information from Qui-Gon. That's what you concealed at his Knighthood Trials!"

"Your insight serves you well." Yoda raised his chin. "But tell you more, we cannot. It would mean disaster for the Republic. In this you must trust me."

Windu exhaled, rubbing his forehead over his left eye. "I must know who it is."

"The more who know, the more danger there is for all. No questions of this sort will I answer. Not yet." Yoda jabbed his stick at Windu. "Meditate on the consequences, I must, before acting. Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, master?"

"Take Master Windu through the Palazzo and show him what we have built. Trust us, he has, and we will demonstrate our trust in return."

"Yes, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan bowed, and led Windu forth into the gardens. He had agreed to show Windu the Palazzo, but left to his discretion, he much preferred to avoid the more sensitive areas. "These gardens are the finest on the southern continent. Perhaps you would care to walk through them instead of going in through the basement infrastructure."

Windu raised a wry brow at Obi-Wan. "Whatever you choose." Clearly indifferent, he followed Obi-Wan, brooding to himself.

The pair met relatively few others, at least until Obi-Wan took Master Windu into the refectory when the dinner hour chimed. The Xinune Jedi froze at the sight of the Councillor within their midst, a silence falling that slowly faded and let subdued conversation take its place. Obi-Wan seated Windu at the high table, where it was the custom for the compound's leaders to dine: Obi-Wan, Yoda, the empty chair reserved for Qui-Gon, and a handful of masters who assisted in running the compound-- an informal council of sorts.

The food was Gida's best, but it turned to ashes in Obi-Wan's mouth as he watched the disquiet in the room-- the reluctant, clandestine glances at Windu, the way the eyes of friends and partners met and lingered as they communicated their unease without words.

They needed to be reassured and given a framework for Windu's presence that would allow them to believe he was not a threat.

When the meal was nearly over, Obi-Wan stood, tapping his glass with his knife until he had everyone's attention. "We are honored by the presence of Jedi High Councillor Windu among us tonight. Let us extend our warmest welcome to our guest, as one of our cherished Jedi friends and brothers on Coruscant-- always a part of us, as we are a part of them."

Polite applause greeted his speech, and some measure of relaxation ensued, though Windu merely raised a brow at the grand words.

"You're highly placed here," Windu commented quietly, when the others' attention had waned. "These people respect and trust you. Is that why you remain?"

Obi Wan sighed. "I do not desire power."

Windu studied him intently for a long moment. "Is it true you're training your personnel in the Dark Side techniques of the Gray Jedi, techniques you learned from Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"No," Obi-Wan said firmly. "We don't train in the Dark Side. We have begun to train in the use of emotions to enhance Force powers, but there is no focus on the Dark Side. In face, we're highly hesitant to use it, and we haven't trained anyone in its use. It can be dangerous and destructive, and we respect that."

"You know Vaapad is my chosen form." Mace sat back thoughtfully. "It does utilize the fighter's dark emotions, under rigid controls."

"Yes, Master Windu." Obi-Wan nodded. "But Vaapad concentrates from the first on channeling inner darkness outward. The Dark Side would focus the darkness entirely inside the user, and seek to increase it, without release. Our techniques are located somewhere between the two-- emotion is generated, used as a center, and then dispersed as completely and benignly as possible. In the case of darker emotions, yes, they must consciously be directed outward in a harmless way, instead of allowing them to remain within the fighter. I've only used dark emotion once, without conscious intent, and I haven't attempted to teach it to any others."

"I would be curious to duel with you."

"With respect," Obi-Wan shook his head, "I think it might be best not to show signs of conflict between us, even in the training salle. Another time, perhaps, or--" he flushed slightly. "I could show you a holovid."

"That would be an acceptable compromise."

Obi-Wan led Windu to Qui-Gon's study when the meal was finished, and took some care in cueing the holo of his Soresu demonstration to the precise moment when Qui-Gon stepped back from him, then started it.

"Impressive," Windu glanced at him when it finished, eyes calculating. "You could not have done that when you passed your Trial of Skill."

"No," Obi-Wan agreed.

"What did Jinn do to provoke your defensive emotions?"

Obi-Wan flushed. "That is irrelevant."

Windu studied him, eyes keen. "There are times when I suspect it was highly fortuitous for you that Qui-Gon was forced to abandon your training when he did."

"Qui-Gon Jinn never treated me improperly when he was my master." Obi-Wan released a surge of anger to the Force. "Quite the opposite."

"Where is he now?"

"He has vanished; nobody knows."

"I think you have some idea. You hold a chair empty for him in the dining hall, and this room contains strong traces of his aura, as do others I have seen today."

"I think you should refer such questions to Master Yoda."

"Agree, I do." Yoda's voice interrupted them, and they turned to find him standing in the door. He stepped in, closing it behind him, and took his time advancing to a low chair and clambering up, settling his robes before he spoke again.

"Support the Supreme Chancellor's peace initiative you must, Master Windu, and we stand ready to assist." He lifted his chin. "We will send a delegation to Geonosis to aid you, but this I ask: mention it, you must not. Not to the Jedi High Council or to any other Jedi, not to the Supreme Chancellor, or the Senate, not to the Guardians you assign from the Temple on Coruscant. Go to Geonosis you must, to lead them in person."

He jabbed his gimer stick at Windu, emphasizing his point. "Communicate with me, you should, or Obi-Wan, to coordinate. Keep your promise, and you need fear no dissenting action from this quarter. Support, I will, your motion to protect the Supreme Chancellor, and to discourage the Separatists." He looked weary, but maintained his stern stare at Windu. "Discuss later, we will, the Trade Federation-- should the necessity remain."

Windu's shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, with relief. "You have eased my mind, at least in this."

"Stop this war, we must." Yoda nodded gravely. "More important than any other consideration."

"Except perhaps the Sith."

"That will be dealt with also." Yoda pursed his lips. "In time."

"If Qui-Gon is a Sith, I will kill him when I see him." Windu shifted his penetrating gaze to Obi-Wan, who stood carefully still, his face a mask of calm.

"We also seek the downfall of the Sith." Yoda remained serene. "More information I will share with you, when the time is right."

Obi-Wan stepped between them. "Will you remain with us, or shall I call an escort to return you to your ship?"

"I'll be going." Windu rose, including both of them in a stiff-necked glare. "I have work to do on Coruscant." He hesitated. "I advise you both: do not betray me."

"Betray each other, we must not," Yoda agreed as Obi-Wan signaled for a knight to escort Windu out.

He released a heavy sigh when the man had gone. "Master Yoda--"

"A risk it was, Qui-Gon's decision. A risk he knew and accepted." Yoda shrugged his shoulders. "For Palpatine to venture out-- unusual, it is, and unexpected. Not without purpose does he act. The culmination of Qui-Gon's plans, I sense, for good or ill, and prepared, we must be. Our best knights and masters, we will send-- veterans of combat, skilled warriors only. Select them."

"Yes, master."

"And then, precede us to Geonosis you should." Yoda rubbed his three-clawed hand over his face. "Scout out the area where the Separatists will meet. Send back information, and join us at the rendezvous. Every advantage is needed, if we are to defeat the Sith, hm?" He gazed at Obi-Wan soberly. "Every possible precaution you must take, to ensure your safety. Many dangers there will be, the Sith not the least. --Both of them."

"I will do my best." Obi-Wan nodded soberly, and seeing that there was no more, he excused himself.

Geonosis glowed like a cabochon of polished jasper set in ebony velvet sparkling with diamond dust. It was encircled by a magnificent ring of debris, which provided the raw materials that fed the droid foundries on the planet below.

Obi-Wan cautiously maneuvered his ship into the debris field, choosing a large asteroid with a recessed hollow that would shield him from all but the largest debris impacts, and tucked his fighter into the alcove carefully. It would also conceal him from sensor probes, while allowing him to get a sense for the place, and possibly detect unusual activity worth investigation.

His scans showed a nearly lifeless world except for the sentient Geonosians; a long-ago asteroid collision with one of its moons had caused a rain of toxic meteors, destroying nearly 99% of the lifeforms on the surface, leaving only the most resilient to survive. It made for an ideal industrial world, though perhaps not the best location for a political summit.

He glanced up as a small asteroid impacted near the lip of his alcove. He had little or no sense of danger from the planet below-- no sense of the pervasive evil of the Sith, which Qui-Gon had once so carefully shown him.

Satisfied with his scans, Obi-Wan maneuvered out of concealment and made planetfall, hoping to remain undetected-- the large amount of meteor activity in the atmosphere might serve to conceal the arrival of such a small craft.

He positioned himself near the biggest of the droid foundries, just outside sensor range of a small city comprised of spherical droid warships, each berthed in a recessed hangar and hooked to refueling cells. Standing outside his ship, he realized he could hear an engine, and lifted his macrobinoculars skyward.

A sleek black dart of a ship was incoming, and he reached out to it with his senses, but could discern nothing about its occupants, only the steady approach of the vessel itself. He expected it to go past swiftly, but it decelerated, and he suddenly realized it was angling toward a nearby rock formation-- specifically, toward a small cave cut near the top of it, where his sensors had shown only an entry chamber leading to an abandoned factory floor.

He waited, watching even after the ship landed, and eventually a small speeder bike came out, bearing a cloaked figure, so far away it was barely a dot-- and again, he could sense nothing.

It piqued his curiosity. Obi-Wan glanced between the departing speeder and the cave, and decided to investigate the cave first.

He took a supply of water and set out across what his maps identified as the N'ge'u Valley, which was far wider on foot than it looked to the naked eye. He arrived at his destination near nightfall and began to climb the rough sandstone, which offered more than enough purchase for Jedi strength and reflexes. The planetary ring system shone brightly in the sky, providing plenty of light for climbing. He made good progress, and before middle-night he was pulling himself into the cave he had observed from across the valley in the morning.

His senses did not detect anyone inside, but he moved with caution nonetheless, carefully edging around the corner and finding the hangar where the black ship waited.

Echoes of the Dark Side throbbed around the ship, subtle but distinct, and he frowned. The hangar bay was all but silent, dimly lit. Only a single steady hum met his senses, originating from a corrugated black conduit that linked the ship with a power cell, recharging it.

The ship loomed quietly in the darkness-- a two-man ship, large enough to hold its own powerful hyperdrive.

His ears perked suddenly at the sound of an engine, and he glanced swiftly about, seeking the best cover, finally selecting the shadows of a wide round power column.

The speeder bike zoomed back in, settling to the floor, and its driver dismounted, a column of light from a recessed fixture catching its face.

Obi-Wan inhaled softly and pressed himself deeper into shadow, understanding his peril even as he worked to empty his mind, trying to disperse the traces of his presence into the Force.

It was Qui-Gon. --Darth Mallaigh.

The Sith raised his head, frowning, looking around the room thoughtfully. He was so skilled at concealing his presence in the Living Force that Obi-Wan had never felt his approach.

Behind him, two droids on jet platforms entered the room. They set down carefully and scuttled over to the ship. The Sith touched a control pad he held in his hand, and the ship settled, retracting various armaments, a shimmer of violet indicating the dropping of its external shielding. The droids swarmed onto the hull, beginning maintenance.

Obi-Wan's heart pounded hard in his chest, so hard he almost feared Mallaigh would hear it. But if he did, he gave no sign. He stood watching the droids as they worked, occasionally offering a terse directive. Obi-Wan could see the silver reflection of metal at Mallaigh's hip, and realized the man carried more than one lightsaber.

He looked drawn, too thin, and the short hair made him look much older.

Automatically Obi-Wan reached out for a better sense of him, and again came up empty. He frowned, then tried to repress the Force-resonance of his reaction, but Mallaigh did not respond to it. He folded his arms and stepped near one of the droids, which had deployed an arc-welder to adjust the landing gear.

After a few more minutes the droids ended their work, and Mallaigh reset the security systems on his ship. His eyes moved serenely around the room, across Obi-Wan's hiding place, and he turned his back, re-mounting his speeder bike, the droids trailing him more slowly.

He jetted out without further ado, and Obi-Wan slid out of concealment, noiseless as smoke, stalking the droids with expert precision. One took flight on its platform; the other paused to stow its tools first.

Obi-Wan's lightsaber flashed twice, and the pieces of the maintenance droid clattered to the floor. A flicker of Force swept them out of the hangar and let them tumble to the desert floor; he mounted the jet platform himself and keyed it to fly, pursuing Mallaigh at a discreet distance.

The speeder bike took a winding path through the desert, and finally approached and vanished inside a rocky spire, a tall edifice too regularly formed to be produced by natural erosion-- one of several scattered about the plain. Obi-Wan carefully noted its location for future reference and ditched his jet platform at its base, beginning a stealthy upward climb.

This time, his initiative was rewarded rapidly: he could sense numerous beings inside, including at least one Force-sensitive, possibly a Jedi. Arriving at the first turn of the spiral, he entered a passageway and slipped up a tall, winding stair, keeping alert for others, glad that his brown cloak would blend so easily with the sandstone walls and coppery gilding favored by the Geonosians.

The Force swelled, warning him, and he ducked into a side corridor as a group ascended the stair, led by a familiar white-haired figure: Councilor Dooku, his padawan by his side.

"As I explained to you earlier, I am quite convinced that ten thousand more systems will rally to our cause with your support, gentlemen." Dooku held forth in a sonorous monologue, well-satisfied with the gravitas and importance of his pronouncements. "All we must do is stand our ground. This repressive taxation is a violation of our--" he passed out of Obi-Wan's hearing, still talking, the footsteps of his group echoing long after their shadows vanished from the wall.

Obi-Wan's fist clenched. Dooku was allied with the Sith-- knowingly? Unknowingly? He could not be certain.

He fell in behind the group, ghosting along as quietly as he could, until the corridor terminated in a wide room lined with computer consoles. A rounded platform stood in the center, its red-hatched grid displaying a holographic schematic of the surrounding countryside. Dooku and his guests stood next to it-- as did Mallaigh.

Obi-Wan retreated hastily into shdow. The Sith's austere glare subdued the group, who kept a distance between themselves and him. They were prudent, except for a single belligerent Geonosian who flittered straight under Mallaigh's nose, shaking an angry finger.

"The Supreme Chancellor is coming here? With a horde of Jedi guards? This was not a part of our plan!"

Dark Force stirred, the only emanation of any kind Obi-Wan had sensed from Mallaigh since first spotting the man, and caught the offending arm in an iron-hard grip, shoving the Geonosian against the wall with invisible power. "Withdraw your finger, if you wish to keep it." An ice-cold hiss, his voice was laced with a rage that made Obi-Wan's skin crawl.

The Geonosian's eyes shot to the Jedi as though for aid, but Dooku simply stood idle, watching. Anakin was not so serene, his eyes sparkling with eager interest.

"But it is, my friend." Mallaigh's voice purred harshly. "The Separatist Council can reject the Supreme Chancellor as easily if he is on Geonosis as you can if he is on Coruscant. And Palpatine will draw a great force of Jedi with him, Jedi we will dispatch with our battle droids. Jedi who will no longer meddle with your affairs, thereafter."

Obi-Wan's hand tightened reflexively on his commlink; this was news he would have to get back to Yoda, no matter the cost.

Dooku finally bestirred himself and spoke. "We stand on the brink, gentlemen. If the Senate authorizes the Supreme Chancellor to create an army, or to declare war, the Jedi will be our most dangerous enemy. We must see to their elimination."

"Bold words, from a member of the Jedi High Council." A Neimoidian fidgeted, its shifty eyes blinking. "Some might even call them words of treason!"

"My sympathies do not lie with the vast majority of the Jedi." Dooku shrugged easily. "I have helped to hand-pick the Jedi Knights who will accompany the Supreme Chancellor. When Windu and his forces are gone, my allies will remain, and you will find them far more accommodating of your agenda. I will take command of the Council-- and also of the Order, once I have denounced Grand Master Yoda as the Gray Jedi he has become."

Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and his lips formed a silent curse.

"This discussion is pointless." Mallaigh spoke again. "We are resolved on our plans, are we not?" He paused, staring around the group, fixing each leader's eyes with silent malice, until their gazes dropped and they nodded acquiescence.

"My friend Mallaigh is correct. We must focus instead on bringing more systems into the Confederacy." Dooku resumed his nominal control of the group. "Come."

They trooped out, and Mallaigh lifted his head, gazing about the room as if seeking an intruder, but his eyes moved without pause over the corridor where Obi-Wan crouched, well-concealed. Obi-Wan shivered as those blazing eyes moved past him.

Mallaigh turned, snapping his cloak tight around his body, and followed the Separatists from the room.

Obi-Wan fled as hastily as he dared, reclaiming his jet platform and returning to his ship.

Xinune was just in range of his unboosted comm dish-- a fortunate thing. "R4, code a transmission for home." He quickly composed the message for Yoda in his mind, and delivered it in terse phrases, as hastily as he could-- his danger sense was nagging at him with growing insistence. His control over masking his presence in the Living Force had never been perfect, and he simply could not credit that Darth Mallaigh had missed him twice.

--And as the characteristic clittering roll of destroyers became audible, he knew he had not. "Destroyers! Send the message, R4." Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber, putting the sandstone wall at his back, but there were five destroyers, and he could see a larger force of B2 super battle droids loping along behind them. He was fatally outnumbered.

His message had gone out; that was what mattered. Hopefully, Mallaigh was also counting on it.

He drew himself upright and dropped his weapon. "I surrender."

A stun bolt caught him, and he knew no more.

He came to slowly, first aware of his inability to feel the Force, and second, of the heavy shock-cuffs that bound him, wrists and ankles. A slight vertigo, and the crackle of electrical arc, warned that he was suspended in a force field, and the heaviness of his head said his body had been tilted forward, while the play of air over his chest and arms warned of the removal of his cloak and tunics.

He took careful inventory of his body, feeling little or no pain other than at the site of the stun, which had struck his left shoulder. He flexed the joint experimentally, and found it functional. He could move within the field, except for the fixed points of the shock-cuffs, which held his arms and legs perfectly still. His legs, he noted, were spread, and a frisson of nervousness shot through him at the vulnerability.

A hand fell on his arm, penetrating the force field, hard callused fingers sweeping harshly over forearm and elbow to his left shoulder, where the bruised skin pulsed and tingled, half-numb.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and stared straight into Darth Mallaigh's grim face. His heart leaped into high gear-- adrenaline surging into his body, both fear and arousal cresting inside him-- and yet, he did not know which to indulge. He firmed his jaw and remained silent as Mallaigh lifted his chin, studying him impassively.

They were in the hangar-- next to Mallaigh's ship. He recognized the patterns on the wall, and the mosaic of tiles in the floor.

Obi-Wan lunged on instinct, snapping at the hand that touched him. It withdrew only millimeters ahead of his teeth, which clicked together on empty air.

The field that held him rotated slowly, displaying him as he turned, disorienting him slightly and making him feel very faintly dizzy. Mallaigh stood back, remaining silent, waiting for him to turn before stepping forward. His hard, broad hand fell on Obi-Wan's thigh, and he felt himself stop rotating. The Sith's hard body stepped forward, pressing between his knees, ignoring the arcs that crackled through the force field that immobilized his cuffs. Rough, callused hands fell on Obi-Wan's shoulders, the broad nails digging into his skin, and he shuddered, torn again between fear and lust.

"You are foolhardy, Jedi." The deep voice made him shiver-- rough, sensual, but with a low grating note. He gulped hard, needing to see the man's face, but he could not turn far enough to manage it. "You were warned."

Those hard hands stroked him, sliding down his ribs, harsh and almost painful on his skin.

"You should not have come." Mallaigh pushed closer, his groin hot against Obi-Wan's ass. He leaned in and sank his teeth at the curve where Obi-Wan's neck joined his shoulder, and Obi-Wan cried out, unable to help himself; Mallaigh's teeth tightened, marking him.

"Qui-Gon--" Obi-Wan gasped, but the teeth sank harder, almost hard enough to draw blood, and he whimpered in spite of himself, jerking his head away.

"I am Darth Mallaigh," the voice was stony now, wrathful, and Obi-Wan's hands clenched into fists at the sound of it. His mind conjured the picture of the fiery red blade piercing Tahl's body-- the same blade the man wore at his hip now. He would do what he believed he must, and if that included murder... then that was what Qui-Gon would do, even before the addition of Mallaigh, who held him now.

Obi-Wan realized his breath had begun to come rapidly, his chest heaving. The blue glow of the force field dazzled in the tears forming in his eyes-- tears for Qui-Gon, for Tahl, perhaps even for himself.

Mallaigh licked at his stinging shoulder, tonguing away a bead of blood.

Obi-Wan moaned, very softly, at the heat of that tongue, and the possessive clutch of the hand sliding around his ribs to cover his nipple.

The soft sound sent Mallaigh into a frenzy. He withdrew and tore Obi-Wan's leggings from him. The fabric shredded with a low purring sound, and Mallaigh left it dangling from the tops of his boots. Then the Sith stepped back, and Obi-Wan could see him again, standing, his eyes raking Obi-Wan's bare body. The Sith wiped a trace of blood from his mouth as the slow rotation resumed.

He realized abruptly that Mallaigh's eyes glowed golden; he was gripped by a silent frenzy of emotion, his thick fingers clenching and releasing over his huge palms. Obi-Wan's breath escaped him in a low gush of true terror.

"Don't," he whispered. "No, don't let it, don't let it--"

"Shut up!" Mallaigh roared, the chamber echoing, lunging forward. His gloved hand slapped over Obi-Wan's mouth, and his eyes gleamed with rage.

Obi-Wan felt a tear slide over his eyelid and onto his cheek, the depth of his grief and despair near to destroying him-- not just for Qui-Gon, but for the multitudes who stood to die if he fell.

Mallaigh leaned in and licked the tear-drop away, tongue hot against his skin.

Obi-Wan jerked his head away, thrashing hard against the restraints. Mallaigh ignored it, hovering, his hand holding Obi-Wan in place as he inhaled Obi-Wan's breath. From his inclined position, Obi-Wan could see the long ridge of arousal that lay swollen and hungry inside the left leg of the black bodysuit Mallaigh wore beneath his cloak. His own cock had begun to fill, and he accepted it; let Mallaigh see his desire. Obi-Wan had nothing to gain by trying to hide-- neither his desire nor his grief nor his love.

"Don't. Talk." Softer this time, Mallaigh's voice was still harsh, a coarse, graveled whisper.

Mallaigh stepped back and unfastened the clasp of his cloak, tossing it aside carelessly, that devouring golden stare never leaving Obi-Wan. He paced slowly for a few moments, matching the turning of the cuffs, keeping Obi-Wan's face in front of him, but stopped when his back was to the wall, remaining watchful even in lust. Once there, he again waited until Obi-Wan's ass was presented to him, and then stepped forward, half-inside the force-field, which crackled faintly at the intrusion, but allowed him to pass even as it held Obi-Wan's shock-cuffs immobile within its beam.

Obi-Wan knew what was coming even before he heard the soft rustle of cloth, and he focused on relaxing his body, breathing deeply and reaching for his center. After a moment, he felt the thick penis slide against him-- prodding momentarily against his thigh, then pressing forward to nestle between the cheeks of his ass.

Obi-Wan pushed away fear and grief, intentionally focusing himself on the embers of desire, deliberately fanning them to flame. He lifted his hips and tilted backward, freely offering what he knew would soon be taken.

Mallaigh uttered a low, feral growl, his hands closing over Obi-Wan's hipbones with bruising pressure. A tendril of Force extended, entering Obi-Wan, who let his eyes close as he accepted it, feeling it open him-- slower than he dared hope, as Mallaigh slicked himself with something Obi-Wan couldn't see, and then thrust forward, hard, sinking home.

Obi-Wan yelped and writhed, pierced deep, clenching his hands to fists and squeezing his eyes shut tight as he struggled to contain both the pain and the lust that surged through him.

Mallaigh paused there, buried in Obi-Wan. The Sith's hands roved over him with savage greed and near-bruising power, pinching his nipples until Obi-Wan hissed, arching to lift his hips, silently begging to be taken, trying to send whatever wordless message of love that he could.

The Sith answered with a savage bite to his earlobe, and a twist to the ring in his nipple. One large, gloved hand found his cock and wrung it tightly, making Obi-Wan gasp. Mallaigh began to fuck him slowly, and Obi-Wan could feel the heavy balls slapping against him. The thick cock nudged his prostate, sparking flame across his nerves, and he writhed again, so hard the cuffs cut his wrists.

Mallaigh's hand stroked his cock, ruthless and swift, a slick hot tunnel. Obi-Wan whimpered-- "oh!" and Mallaigh bit him again, fucking him with slow, deliberate power. The Sith's teeth caught the flesh of his throat, then he licked the skin he held, while twisting it slowly.

Obi-Wan shuddered, the soft ember of pain dragging him over the edge, and came helplessly, a low cry wrung from his chest. Mallaigh's hips shoved at him faster, pushing against Obi-Wan's clenching body, and he followed swiftly, the force of his last, uncontrolled thrusts twisting Obi-Wan's wrists and ankles in his bonds, body jerking as he came, his forehead falling against Obi-Wan's nape, wet with sweat.

Obi-Wan shivered as soft lips brushed the lightest butterfly kiss against his spine-- he could not even be sure it was done with intent-- and then retreated.

Mallaigh's cock slid out of him, spent, and Obi-Wan worked to draw air into his lungs as Mallaigh's fingertips traced the curve of his ass, touching his anus. His eyes shot open as the Sith pressed something inside of him, rapid and deft-- then one of Mallaigh's broad hands cracked savagely against the cheek of his ass, leaving a hot flush there, a handprint that Obi-Wan knew would bruise.

He jerked away from the blow in spite of himself, belatedly trying to resume some semblance of composure.

Mallaigh tucked himself away and sealed his clothing, moving to stand outside the force field, which resumed its slow rotation. He surveyed Obi-Wan for a long moment, and Obi-Wan blinked, startled to see the yellow eyes fading-- more with each rotation, from golden to green, then to familiar dark sapphire, though the face never changed-- remote and haughty, contemptuous.

"You wanted that, Jedi whore." Mallaigh delivered his verdict with a slow, bitter smirk.

"Go to hell," Obi-Wan snarled, but from the look he could see in Mallaigh's eyes, the man was already there.

He was given no clothing to cover him, and he did not resist when Mallaigh turned off the force field and marched him out, bent at the waist, the Sith's hand fisted in his hair. He could feel the item the Sith had put into him, a strange foreign presence hidden inside his body, and it reassured him in spite of everything, even the horrible memory of the Dark Side boring into him through golden-flame eyes.

Mallaigh shoved him out, stumbling, into the light, where a droid transport hovered, awaiting them. They set out across the valley. Obi-Wan knelt where he had been shoved down, but eyed Mallaigh carefully from the corner of his eye. The generator for the shock-cuffs and their Force-damping field now rode on the Sith's utility belt, within easy reach-- if Obi-Wan's hands were not restrained.

There would be a better opportunity. He had to trust in that.

Nevertheless, he found himself licking lips gone dry with nerves as they approached the spire he had climbed earlier to eavesdrop on the Separatists. The sun was setting as they disembarked, dazzling Obi-Wan's eyes. Mallaigh's fist in his hair hurt as he was shoved inside, and his wrists had begun bleeding, crimson droplets falling to the floor.

A sudden silence fell, and by craning his neck he managed to glimpse several sets of booted feet-- the Separatists, and Dooku. Mallaigh tensed, a rigid stiffening Obi-Wan sensed from the sudden change in the man's stance, and the way the fist in his hair tightened.

"My goodness." Dooku's rich tones feigned surprise. "Knight Kenobi, isn't it?"

"I caught him snooping in the valley." Mallaigh shook him savagely. "He was no match for your droids."

"How disappointing." Dooku stepped forward, eyes raking Obi-Wan thoughtfully. "He was once my former padawan's padawan, you know." He half-turned to the others. "To think I once thought of him as if he were my own grandson."

Obi-Wan pushed away shame at his nudity and his imprisonment, tilting his face to stare up at Dooku. "You won't get away with this, Dooku. The Jedi do not share your goals!"

"You should reconsider your goals, Knight Kenobi, if one of them includes your survival."

"I might say the same for you." Obi-Wan managed to glare, even though he was on his knees.

"I? But I am all that stands between you and certain disaster." Dooku smiled. "As I am a Jedi and also a High Councilor, all Jedi are under my protection. This includes you, at least for the moment." He turned aside slightly, studying the embossed and gilded carvings in the wall. "I am afraid your captor has no such compunctions."

The Separatist Council chuckled nervously, their feet shifting.

"Do you anticipate trouble from the Gray Jedi?" The smooth baritone voice took Obi-Wan off-guard, and he jerked his head up, losing hair to Mallaigh's iron grip-- to find Tiran standing amidst the Council, expression austere, his tall body regally clad in dark blue and silver. Obi-Wan could have groaned-- foolhardy and impetuous, another wild-card in the mix, another friend in jeopardy. "I recognize him-- he's one of their leaders. Their growing presence on my world disturbs me."

"King Tiran, your support is most timely, and Xinune is a welcome addition to the Confederacy." Dooku all but purred. "I assure you, you need not worry yourself about the Gray Jedi. As you can see, they are well in hand. My friend Mallaigh will tend to this one, if he cannot see fit to mend his ways."

"I'm pleased to hear it."

"Kenobi is stubborn." Rough velvet in Mallaigh's voice. "He will not be persuaded."

"Then I'm afraid I have other, more pressing business to attend." Dooku smiled benignly at Obi-Wan. "I do hope you are still functional when I return." He led the Council away, and Mallaigh shoved Obi-Wan into an alcove, where a shield generator waited, locking him once again into a turning column.

"How unfortunate that you have nothing to occupy your mind, Jedi." Mallaigh's tone mocked him. "Perhaps you may find the hours tedious." He reached to his belt and unclipped Obi-Wan's lightsaber, placing it on the ledge. "You will not escape to retrieve this, but I will find your desperation and your plots most entertaining."

Obi-Wan stared defiantly at Mallaigh, his heart in his mouth, reluctant to release that hard blue gaze, until he rotated away, While his back was turned, the Sith pivoted on his heel and stalked out.

Obi-Wan could hear low conversation and occasional activity from the next room, but the voices were not loud enough to make out what was said, even if he had understood Geonosian. Time stretched, seeming endless, and after a long interval he guessed that the compound had entered its night cycle, most of the personnel dormant until morning.

Though he couldn't hear words, he could pick up on the emotional tones, and after a time, he realized that the Geonosians' calm was dissipating, giving way to agitation. Not long afterward, he sensed that the power was pulsing, very subtly, the lights dimming and brightening in a chaotic pattern. Perhaps there was a storm.

He tensed, using isometrics to flex his muscles and work out his stiffness, readying himself for his chance-- a sudden shuddering impact, the explosive crackle of a short, and blackness. Obi-Wan lunged forward instantly, crashing to the floor and rolling to his feet. His cuffs still bound him, but he was free of the force field.

The power returned, an emergency generator kicking in at half-strength, replacing the force field-- with him outside it. When a Geonosian flitted in to check on him, Obi-Wan brought his cuffed hands down hard on its neck, snatched his lightsaber in both hands, and sprinted for the stairs that led to the base of the spire. He moved awkwardly in the cuffs, and he could not yet sense the Force, but he was free, and he was moving-- and the corridor was still empty.

He adjusted his saber and struggled, awkward, to cut the cuffs. The one on his left arm fell away, and then the right; he lengthened the saber and the ankle cuffs swiftly followed. An alarm had begun to bray, and he was bound to encounter guards. Sure enough, as he neared the spire's base, a cluster of three Geonosians flitted out from a side corridor. One leveled a squat, thick-barreled gun at him, its yellow end glaring at him, and he ducked and rolled just as an explosive pulse burst from the gun, vaporizing a pillar that stood just behind him. Dust and chunks of stone spattered everywhere, stinging against his bare skin.

Obi-Wan leaped forward, forcing the flittering aliens to take wing, moving too quickly for them to sight in on him. Another pulse tore a crater in the floor.

"Find the Jedi!" He heard a distant bellow-- Mallaigh's voice.

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet and half ran, half fell, out of the compound and onto the exterior walkway of the spire.

Sand scoured at his skin, half-blinding him; blinking, he could see where another spire had toppled, crashing against the one on which he stood and disrupting its power supply. The wind howled savagely at gale force, driving the desert grit before it. He could not survive for long in this wind, not without a shelter or clothing to protect his skin and eyes, but it was better than dodging the Geonosian pulse weapons.

He raised his bound arms to shield his eyes and ran on instinct, the Force guiding him as he went slithering and half-falling down the unformed sandstone base of the spire, eyes watering. The ground abruptly flattened beneath him, and he stumbled forward, reaching out with the Force to seek cover-- and heard a familiar whistle above the roar of the storm. Blinking frantically, he looked up-- his fighter had been brought and parked at the base of the pillar.

"Open the canopy, R4!' Obi-Wan yelled, and struggled up, skin raw from the sand-blasting wind. He tumbled into the pilot's seat.

The canopy mercifully lowered itself over him, sealing.

"Thank you, R4." He had only minutes, at best, before pursuit caught up to them. "Take us out of here!"

The droid whistled an affirmative, and thrusters drove him into the seat as he blasted up out of the gravity well and into hyperspace before the Geonosians, inconvenienced by the sandstorm, could scramble to pursue him. R4 had already prepared his course for the rendezvous point.

Safe in hyperspace, he heaved a sigh and tried to relax, but the discomfort of sitting reminded him suddenly of something he had nearly forgotten-- the object Mallaigh had hidden inside his body.

A few moments' scrabbling sufficed to extract a small packet. Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose with distaste and opened the plastic wrapping, frowning as he poured three small white stones into the palm of his left hand. They felt odd, both slippery and dry, and they played havoc with his sense of the Force. He cleaned his fingers on the shredded tatters of his leggings and turned the stones over in his hand-- they skittered away from his mind, deflecting his attempts to investigate them.

Perhaps these were why he had not been able to sense Mallaigh's presence.

Obi-Wan's fist closed around them with sudden understanding-- Sidious would not sense the presence of the Jedi converging on him, not if they bore these stones. It was a precious gift, delivered in the only way Mallaigh could be certain they would not be observed or lost before he escaped. Obi-Wan chuckled out loud, and felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes.

He dropped out of hyperspace soon after, on the far side of one of Tatooine's binary suns, carefully keeping it between his ship and the planet itself. It wouldn't do to attract the attention of the Hutt.

Yoda's contingent also arrived within a few hours, two dozen Jedi aboard a single light cruiser, and Obi-Wan hailed them, boarding to share information and regroup. He requested to be met with clothing, and accepted the heavy cloak gratefully, wrapping himself in it, wishing he had leisure to bathe. Then the knight escorted him further into the ship, where Yoda waited in a private meeting area to hear his report.

"Disturbing, your information about Dooku." Yoda shook his head sadly. "Trained him, I did, in the lightsaber. A friend, I thought him." He looked at the floor for a long moment, pensive, before lifting his head. "As for King Tiran, I am not surprised. Reckless is he. Devoted to Qui-Gon." He rubbed his forehead wearily. "Useful he may be, though in grave danger."

"I would have stopped him. We all would. But he's made his choice." Obi-Wan hesitated. "What has the Supreme Chancellor been doing?"

"Much talk today, in the Senate. Palpatine has asked for the authority to create an army and declare war, should his appeal to the Separatists fail. Vote soon, the Senate will." Yoda sighed heavily. "This vote will pass, I fear. They do not know an army stands ready to serve."

"Qui-Gon gave me these," Obi-Wan withdrew his handful of white stones, holding them out for inspection, and Yoda took one, his eyes widening as he extended his senses toward it.

"Heard of these, I have. Taozin nodules, very rare. They disrupt the Living Force, allowing the bearer to hide his Force signature." Yoda turned the white stone over in his palm. "Curious, how he came by so many of them."

"Qui-Gon almost certainly has one; I never sensed him either before or after my capture." Obi-Wan frowned. "I assume he would want you to have one, and perhaps me, though it might be better to choose a more experienced--"

Yoda pocketed the stone he held and waved his palm impatiently at Obi-Wan. "Yours, one is. You and I must hide our presence from Palpatine for as long as possible. The others he will not recognize. He will not be able to separate them from Master Windu's Jedi."

"We still have one left over."

"Meant for Windu, perhaps." Yoda pursed his lips. "Or perhaps not. I cannot say. Carry it, Obi-Wan, and use it as the Force tells you."

He shuffled over to the viewport, looking out at the starfield, his hands closing on the window rim. "What will happen next, I know not. Clouded, is the Force-- more so than I can ever remember. Qui-Gon's doing, I think. He uses the Dark Side to obscure the future from the Sith, just as the Sith works to conceal himself and his plans from the Jedi."

"He's very powerful."

"Powerful, yes." Yoda glanced up at Obi-Wan, eyes sad. "Much I have seen in your mind, Obi-Wan. Powerful is the Dark Side, and seductive. How fares Qui-Gon, think you?"

Obi-Wan remembered the glowing golden eyes, and a shiver slid down his spine, involuntary. "He gave me the taozin nodules, arranged my escape, and left my lightsaber and my ship where I could get them." Obi-Wan hesitated. "His purpose is still strong, but he has sunk deep into the Dark Side."

"We must take care." Yoda jabbed his stick toward Obi-Wan, emphasizing his words. "Useless, it would be, to destroy one Sith lord only to create another." His ears drooped. "Qui-Gon must be sacrificed, if he turns. Prepared, you must be, for that possibility, Obi-Wan. It is what Qui-Gon would have us do."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes-- again, vividly recalling Tahl, the red blade protruding from her shoulders. Yoda and Qui-Gon were both right: the stakes were the future of the entire galaxy, and personal feelings could not be prioritized.

"I will do what I must, Master Yoda," he said, his stomach hollow.

"Good." Yoda turned back to the window, gazing out pensively, as though he could read the will of the Force in the patterns of the stars. "We will enter hyperspace in time to coordinate our arrival with the Jedi from the Temple. Coordinated, I have, with Master Windu. They will expect the extra ship." He sighed. "Trust him soon, we must, and tell him our plans, or all will be lost."

Yoda lifted his shoulders, slowly moving to looking at Obi-Wan, holding himself upright with dignity. "May the Force be with you, Knight Kenobi."

"May it be with us all, Master Yoda."

Yoda merely nodded, his ear-tips rising slightly. "Go and bathe yourself and rest. Sand, you are scattering."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Yes, master." He bowed his way out.

Though Yoda had advised him to rest, after his bath Obi-Wan found he could not sleep. His skin was raw from the wind-driven sand, and his eyes still felt gritty and strained when he shut his lids. His body was sore, his flesh remembering Mallaigh's cock pushing inside him, and as he lay on his back, looking up at the shadowed bulkhead, he shifted his hips again and again as though to seek a comfortable sleeping position, savoring the faint ache that flared anew each time.

Had he ever been padawan learner to Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn? The time of his apprenticeship had receded slowly, almost without him noticing, transforming itself into a haze of near-mythological perfection. He knew it had not been so; he had been rejected, very nearly abandoned, very nearly killed, and always held at a carefully proper distance with patient, but cool, courtesy. His desire for Qui-Gon, as he had felt it then, had its roots in that rejection, and in his own need for acceptance. Love, born in fear and nurtured in guilt, he had fed on silent, solitary imaginings only.

That time was not an interlude of purity and light as memory would have it, and yet he ached with the desire to have back the wasted years, to stand through them unbowed, with Qui-Gon Jinn whole and strong at his side. To have seen the man command his triumphant future within the Jedi Order, join the Council, raise Obi-Wan up and cut his braid... perhaps to find a way to love him and be loved, without this pall of darkness and loss cast over them both.

But even if that had come to pass, the Sith would still be at large, and this threat to the Republic would still exist-- and perhaps there would be no power arisen with a chance to counter it.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, breathing out regret and inhaling acceptance: the will of the Force: things that were, and things that are, and things that yet shall be.

He rose and robed himself, cleaning the sand and grit from his lightsaber, knotting the taozin nodules carefully into the waist of his underclothing, where he was least likely to lose them.

When the call came, summoning the Jedi to readiness, he was prepared, and he went out to join Yoda, back straight, resolved and unafraid.

They set down in a rolling, sandy valley next to a broad, shallow bowl of seats-- the Petranaki Arena, and fanned out quickly to secure the facility for Palpatine's speech. A few dozen kilometers from the Separatists' refuge in the command center where Obi-Wan had been imprisoned, it seemed the perfect venue for the diplomatic event.

To the Jedi, it was a nightmare-- a warren, a veritable hive of tunnels and alcoves and levels, all but impossible to secure.

Yoda remained concealed from the Coruscant Jedi, but Obi-Wan took the opportunity to explore the place as thoroughly as he could, poking into every nook and cranny, scouting the rooms that would accommodate Palpatine. Corridors would take him directly from his ship out onto the promontory that dominated the arena-- a crenellated outcrop that would allow the Supreme Chancellor to be seen anywhere else in the bowl.

Blast shields were in place to surround the outcrop, heavy layers of both particle and ray shielding ready for the Supreme Chancellor's use. The area had been designed with both defensibility and rapid retreat in mind; a tunnel ran directly out from the anteroom at the rear of the outcrop to the exterior of the bowl, where a ship would wait to whisk him away at the slightest sign of trouble. His escape route would have to be blocked before any other action was taken.

"Knight Kenobi?" Mace Windu's resonant voice brought him to a halt at the edge of the landing platform, where he had been gazing down into the rusty desert sands, deep in thought. "I didn't expect to find you here."

"Master Windu." Obi-Wan straightened politely. He was startled by the man's appearance; he seemed to have lost weight and gained years in only a few days, his face creased and his eyes hollow.

"Will you come with me?" Windu asked, intent but deferential, and Obi-Wan obeyed, following him down to the waiting room that had been prepared for Palpatine. The furnishings had been removed, and the room stood empty, awaiting the Chancellor's personal customization.

Windu led Obi-Wan inside and wove a shield of silence across the doorway, pausing for a long moment before speaking.

"I've lost more of my ability to read the Force." He sounded calm, but Obi-Wan recognized his serenity was only a mask, surface-deep.

"As has Master Yoda."

"I couldn't even sense you before I saw you. I can't sense you now, even standing in the same room with me."

"The Sith are powerful." Obi-Wan hesitated. "I have taken precautions to conceal myself."

"Whatever they are, they're working." Windu rubbed at his temple, next to his left eye. "I fear the Force will fail us entirely. How long before it stops answering our call?"

"Fear clouds your mind, master. Trust in the Force." Obi-Wan stepped next to the man, touching his shoulder with compassion.

"Who is the Sith, Obi-Wan?" Windu asked quietly. "I must know. I suspect every face I see, every Jedi I pass-- my own friends and comrades, even the other Councilors. I haven't slept for days, but the Force is closed to me."

"I agree. You have to know; we can't delay it any longer." Obi-Wan sighed and thumbed his commlink, signaling for Yoda. "I just don't know whether you'll believe us." He lowered his shields and focused on his memories of Dooku, moving near Windu and replaying the memory, watching the Councilor's face grow ashen.

"Dooku." His voice choked with pain.

"An accomplice of the Sith," Obi-Wan agreed quietly.

"And Qui-Gon?"

"He has gone undercover as the Sith's apprentice."

Windu eyed Obi-Wan narrowly. "A Jedi can't go undercover as a Sith. Either you are one, or you aren't."

"But Qui-Gon is, as you say, a Gray Jedi," Obi-Wan corrected softly. "He knows the Dark Side. He has resources the rest of us do not."

"Insane." Windu shook his head. "And you still haven't--"

Obi-Wan brought another memory forward: Naboo. The squalor, the brooding evil. The Supreme Chancellor, benevolent and smiling, and the tense menace of the audience that followed. The pursuit of the Sith apprentice, and his demise. Qui-Gon's opportunity, and his resolve.

Windu opened his eyes when it was finished, and shook his head slowly. "Obi-Wan, this is very disturbing, but it isn't proof of your suspicions."

"Which is why we delayed telling you. But it is true." Obi-Wan shivered. "He's controlled every faction in this drama, working every side against the others. He has clouded the Force against you, Master Windu."

"The Supreme Chancellor wants peace!" Windu shouted, strident. "We've worked together for years. I can't believe this of him, Obi-Wan. Don't mistake me; I can see how you've been persuaded. Qui-Gon's influence over you--"

"He holds no influence over Yoda, and yet Yoda believes it too."

"You've come here planning to destroy Chancellor Palpatine," Windu said slowly. "He'll be vulnerable here, and you know it. Force curse me, I've brought you here myself."

"We need your help." Obi-Wan stared at Windu in desperation. "Have you listened to the Senate proceedings since you left hyperspace?" He stepped to the wall, punching up a comm screen. "Has the vote been cast?"

"Vote?" Windu frowned. "What vote?"

"The Senate is in the process of voting to give the Supreme Chancellor the authority to gather an army and make war on the Separatists. His puppet, the Senator from Naboo, brought this motion." Obi-Wan displayed the relevant news broadcasts, and Windu's eyes widened.

"The vote has passed," he said slowly, and Obi-Wan could see his mind racing.

"You told us yourself: a clone army stands ready on Kamino," Obi-Wan reminded him softly.

"No." Yoda's voice startled them both; they turned toward the door as one, staring down at him in startlement.

"No?"

"Contacted me, the Supreme Chancellor has, in the wake of the vote. Shared his information on the Geonosian droid armies, and expressed concern for his safety. Summoned the clones here, he has, and requested that I command them, and use them to bolster our defenses. War, he intends." Yoda rested his stick firmly on the stone. "The droids are here, and the clones come."

"He wouldn't put himself at risk, exposed between two forces like that. Not unless he's sincere in his wish for peace." Windu shook his head, grasping at straws.

"Risk this, he will. Much at stake, he feels. Here, he must be, to control events as he will have them!" Yoda thumped his stick for emphasis. "Realize, you must, that the Force is clouded against him as well, Master Windu. Qui-Gon has made it so."

Windu hesitated, looking between the two of them. "If this is true, he means for the Jedi to be caught between the hammer and the anvil. Our forces will be destroyed."

"Tomorrow he will speak. The Separatists will vote to reject his offer, and they'll call up their droid armies to attack him. He'll retaliate with the clones, and be away before the first shots are ever fired. That speech will sell him as a hero to the Republic, even as his plans are brought to pass. You must see this!" Obi-Wan appealed, desperate.

"Our word against his, it is." Yoda fixed Windu with a stern stare. "Who will you believe, Master Windu? To make you see the truth, will it take war?"

"I want to talk to Qui-Gon."

"Produce Qui-Gon on demand, we cannot." Yoda glared up at him with frustration. "And even if we could, he is not as you remember him."

"I remember he was always a pain in the ass. It doesn't sound like he's changed at all." Windu laughed, a faint shadow of humor.

Yoda tilted his head, eyes suddenly keen. "Have you suspicion enough to take the Supreme Chancellor into custody for questioning?"

Windu hesitated. "Yes, I believe so."

"Then when his speech is done, confront him we will. Arrest him for questioning. Convince you then, his reaction may." Yoda lifted his chin. "Be silent, you will, until then?"

"Agreed." Windu extended his hand, and Yoda clasped it, then Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan's eyes met Yoda's while they shook, and he grimaced; it was a gamble, but right now, it was the game that offered the best odds in the house. He released Windu's hand and fumbled at his belt, pulling out the extra taozin nodule.

"Take this, Master Windu: a gift from Darth Mallaigh, in earnest of our good faith." Obi-Wan smiled wryly. "Carry it with you. It will offer you concealment from the Sith-- or the rest of us-- should you need it."

Windu's hand closed around the white stone, his eyes widening as he sensed its power. "Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"It's nothing." Obi-Wan smirked wryly. "Just don't ask how I got it."

Yoda cackled all the way down the hall.

PART II - Showdown