Reading Time: 92 Minutes

Title: Pathfinder
Author: Jilly James
Fandom: Star Wars
Genre: Angst, Drama, Pre-Relationship, Science Fiction
Relationship(s): Gen, Pre-Obi-Wan Kenobi/Nield, OC/OC, background pairings
Content Rating: R
Warnings: Discussion-Slavery, Discussion-Graphic Violence, Discussion-Violence Against Children, Discussion-War, Discussion-Children engaged in warfare, Discussion-Child Murder, Discussion-Attempted Genocide, Discussion-Suicide, Discussion-Self-Harm, Dark Themes, Discussion-Major/Permanent Injury, Mild Character Bashing, implied trauma.
Author Note: Star Wars has a lot of darkness in it. Melida/Daan was a particularly ugly arc in Jedi Apprentice, and though this is post-war, all children-at-war themes may apply. Everything mentioned in the warnings will be actually discussed but it’s also present in the Star Wars canon in spades. Please be sure to read the author notes tab in summary post, and particularly the tab about language in this verse.
Word Count: 87,410
Summary: After being exiled from the Young and returning to the temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi goes through the motions of healing and re-establishing his place in the Order. Yet he knows there’s a far-reaching threat still facing the Young—there are risks of starvation, illness, and the greater threat of attacks from shadowy forces he sees only in vision. He has little faith in the Order residing within the walls of the temple, so he seeks help from without, sending petitions for aid to the service corps branches. After all, no one told him he couldn’t, and he’ll do anything to protect the Young.
Beta: Keira Marcos, desertpoet
Artist: Spennig

---

---

Chapter Nine

“That’s a hell of a place for him to want to meet,” Nield muttered.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I know the Force isn’t punishing me, but it sure feels that way sometimes.” He rubbed his temples. “You said Tash reported that Master Yoda and Admiral Wodij took off for the North Country like their hair was on fire?”

“Yeah, they clearly found something.”

“So, they’re busy.” He scrunched up his face. “Let’s talk to Master Soren.”

They found Master Soren sitting in the square outside the “government” buildings, practically on their doorstep, with several children in his lap, listening to stories about some of his antics when he was a young Guardian—who apparently thought fire beetles wouldn’t affect a Tarnab due to their fur.

The children were giggling and petting his visible fur, which he didn’t seem to mind.

He looked up at them. “The Unifying Force can be quite loud here when it wants your attention. It nudged me here, and the children accompanied me; they wished to say hello.”

Obi-Wan found himself swarmed with little ones. He oohed and aahed over their growth and obvious changes, over injuries healed, new clothes and new hairstyles. The little ones were carefree and happy in a way he’d never gotten the chance to see before he’d had to leave just a few short months ago.

Lyn and Ger were both there as well; they were two of the older Young who Obi-Wan wasn’t surprised to find were working full-time in the crèche. Both had always done well with the littlest ones. Nield encouraged them to get the children back to the crèche, which they were able to do with promises of seeing Yaddle again, who was apparently a favorite already.

Master Soren folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “Did you need to speak with me?”

“Can we go into Nield’s office?” Obi-Wan glanced back at Nield. “You have an office, right?”

Nield grinned. “I do.”

Master Soren cocked his head, giving Obi-Wan a look as if to ask where they’d been if not Nield’s office, but Obi-Wan decided to ignore it and followed Nield back inside.

As soon as they were behind closed doors, Master Soren gave them a patient look and waited.

Nield and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance, and Obi-Wan began with, “We need to meet with a contact who might be able to help the Young with some of the unaddressed issues in Admiral Wodij’s plan to evacuate the planet.”

“Does Admiral Wodij in fact have a plan to evacuate the planet?” Master Soren asked slowly.

“Not yet.”

“I see. And where is this contact?”

“Not anywhere near here,” Nield muttered.

“Several days away in hyperspace,” Obi-Wan said. “However, the Young have no ships capable of hyperspace travel. We were going to discuss it with the admiral, but she’s been suddenly called out to the North Country with Master Yoda.”

“Is Governor Nield requesting that we assist him in traveling to this meeting and allow one of our padawans to travel with him?”

Nield put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’m requesting that our elected deputy governor, Ben, travel with me.”

“Nield,” Obi-Wan groaned. He looked to Master Soren. “I honestly didn’t know I still held that position.”

Master Soren blinked rapidly. “I…see. I think the best solution is to com Master Ebé and seek his counsel.”

“Master Ebé? Not Master Kan or Master Ohri?”

“Definitely Master Ebé. The Force is most…insistent.”

***

Eeth Koth wasn’t being very forthcoming about the reason they’d been summoned as he piloted the shuttle toward the rendezvous site. Yoda was strapped in his seat, with a pensive expression on his face and hands curled tightly around his gimer stick.

“How was your visit to the crèche?” Rin asked.

“Mm. Bright the children are. Happy. Yet surrounded by misery.” He glanced toward the window. “Miserable place this is.”

“Yes.”

“Leave, they must.”

“Yes.”

He sighed and met her gaze. “Resist, they will?”

“I don’t know. They seem imminently practical for ones so young, and we’ve not interacted with any of their adults.” She hesitated. “I wouldn’t be surprised either way. Dagher’s already reported that there are a few possible moons in the sector; there’s just the matter of who has laid claim to them.”

“Research into the archives, yes, we must engage.”

“Vex is doing what she can, but we may wind up having to send someone back to Coruscant.”

“Task for Dooku if necessary it becomes.” Yoda nodded firmly. He was quiet for a long time, then added. “Too much loss. Misled me, Qui-Gon did.”

“Could be. Or perhaps he’s blind to it. Your most seasoned field knights and masters often see the worst of the galaxy with limited ability to do anything to truly help. Qui-Gon Jinn could simply be inured to the suffering of those around him, or he could just be that desperately in need of mind healing. Kenobi is convinced he’s not dark or bad; he’s just…lost his way, perhaps.”

“Forgiving, Obi-Wan is.”

“A mark of a good Jedi, I think.”

“Mm. More horrors, I fear we are about to see. Too much for one planet to contain.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Eeth muttered.

“Force above, Koth. Just say it.”

He shook his head. “Jaro asked me to keep it to myself to let you develop your own first impressions. Just keep your shields locked down, Wodij.”

She blew out a breath.

Yoda grumbled and hunkered down lower in his seat. “Terrible this is. Terrible.”

***

They’d passed beyond the crater the ion bomb had created and into inhospitable terrain. The land was rocky with scraggly trees. It was weird how it went abruptly from farmland to the hard, rocky terrain with very few plants except thorny shrubs and unhealthy-looking trees with no leaves.

“I think the weirdest thing about the look of all this is that waterfall in the distance.” Rin scratched her head. “I’ve never seen a water source like that, then this dead land, and then farmland.”

“From the air,” Eeth said, his hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber, “the dead land forms an oddly triangular shape.”

“Seriously?”

“Goes right up to a green strip near the waterfall, then on the other side is the farmland, and there’s a river on the other side.” He pointed out various points. “The total dead area is probably less than two kilometers, but it seems to be a byproduct of a smaller triangular shape inside the zone. That’s what you need to see for yourself.”

Rin held out her hand. “Come on, short stuff. No point in you walking on this land if you don’t have to. I can at least be grateful the Physical Force isn’t a strong affinity.”

Eeth nodded. “Jaro is miserable, so don’t be in contact with this tainted earth if you don’t have to, Master.”

Yoda huffed but hopped into her hand and then up onto her shoulder.

“You’ve gained weight.”

“A gram I have not gained in seven hundred years.”

Rin laughed. “Uh-huh.” She took a breath. “All right, Eeth, let’s go be miserable for the sake of the galaxy.”

The walk was much the same as any other part of the planet for about half a klick, then she crossed some invisible line, and it was like the Force screamed in agony.

She staggered and clutched her head.

It took her a few seconds, with Eeth steadying her physically and Master Yoda steadying her in the Force, to get her bearings. “What in the Sith hells is that?”

“Possibly Sith Hell,” Jaro said as he walked towards them, giving her a concerned look. “We all felt something crossing that line, but… I apologize. These spells affect us differently depending on our affinity in the Force.”

“What’s going on?”

“Within this barrier, the planet is unshielded. The barrier is some sort of Sith spell keeping the worst of the damage from being widely felt. Even those with a Living Force affinity can feel the planet crying in here.”

She flicked her gaze to Yoda, who looked like he was going to pass out despite his efforts to help steady her when her head felt like it was exploding.

Jaro reached out and took Yoda from her shoulder. “Can you endure it?”

“Endure I can. Understand, I will.”

Jaro put Yoda on his own shoulder, and she thought Yoda looked a little steadier. She wondered if Jaro’s strength in the Physical Force was a better shield for Yoda than her own affinity. “We found what look like Sith holocrons about fifty meters apart in a triangle shape.” Jaro pointed to three different spots. “We left them intact, but we believe they’re the anchor for the barrier keeping every Force-sensitive in this entire sector from hearing the planet crying.”

“Help me out here,” Rin said, trying to get her mind to work properly, “I understand that we’re all hearing the planet’s kyber core screaming as well as the Force itself upset. However, bleeding a kyber crystal requires pushing negative emotions into the crystal, yes? I understand there’s probably something feeding the negative feelings of the occupants of the planet to the degree necessary to create a huge well of emotions strong enough to affect the planet’s core, but what spell is pushing that emotional well into that core? Are we looking at multiple Sith spells?”

“Multiple Sith spells, yes. But… They left what I can only call a power source for their spells. At least, that’s what Dooku has inferred from what we found.”

“A power source. I’m really not going to like this, am I?”

“I didn’t. Come on.”

The more they walked, the more the turbulence in the Force was hard to manage. She finally had to stop and get her bearings again. “I can see why Kenobi couldn’t just leave if the Cosmic Force was bludgeoning him with a message to stop this.” She took a steadying breath and met Yoda’s gaze. “Honestly, when your council eventually deliberates about these events, nothing that child has done should be held against him.”

Yoda closed his eyes and shook his head. “Force’s messenger, he is. Listen, we will.”

“Good. How much farther, Jaro, because I’m about to vomit on Eeth’s shiny boots, and I haven’t thrown up on a mission in over two decades.”

“It’s only about twenty yards. Behind that big, dead tree.”

“Right. Of course it’s the creepy-looking tree.”

As they neared, she saw Dooku, Sifo-Dyas, and the two ExplorCorps officers at a portable table, poring over something. None of them looked particularly well, but they were continuing their work.

When they rounded the tree, Rin came to a stop and stared at the dark outpouring in the Cosmic Force. She had to blink to clear her vision to see what looked like some sort of stasis pod left in some hollowed-out earth at the base of the creepy, dead tree.

“What’s in that? And why is darkness pouring out of it?”

“My best deduction from the runes,” Sifo-Dyas said, his voice a little shaky, “is that failed apprentices are sometimes, um, allowed to continue to serve the cause.”

“Serve?”

“For as long as their life force lasts, they function as a conduit for the spell, funneling the negative emotions of anyone on the planet into the core of the planet itself.”

“Are you telling me something is alive in that pod?”

“By some definition of the word, yes.”

“I…see.” She blew out a breath. “Have you gathered what you can from…it?”

“We’ve taken holos and examined the site closely,” Sifo-Dyas replied.

“Is there any reason why this discussion needs to happen within the influence of that?”

There was a beat, then Jaro replied. “No. We’ve gathered what we can for now. I suggest we move to the edge of the affected zone and discuss it. We’ll be close enough to get back here if we need to. Part of our delay was deciding if we were going to do anything about…” He gestured to the pod.

“We’re doing nothing about anything until we understand what in the frilly hell is going on.” She blew out a sharp breath. “Do you think it is aware of your presence?”

Dooku was the one who replied, “I would say that though the being is alive, it’s unlikely it’s been aware of anything but pain for a very long time.”

“I can’t think. We need to get away from…that.”

***

Rin took a few minutes to just appreciate not suffocating in darkness. They were taking a quick meal break, setting up their worktable, and clearing their heads before deciding how to proceed. Her com chimed with a message from Vex.

“Yes, Vex.” She didn’t bother to set the com to private. Vex would know there were others in audio range and give a warning if something were sensitive.

“Admiral, several updates. I have determined which galactic territories in this sector are registered with the Republic as belonging to the Melida/Daan, and it’s most of the uninhabited worlds. Some even in the Zhar system technically belong to Melida/Daan as Melida/Daan is older and seceded planetary territory to Zhar. There are indications that thousands of years ago, many worlds in this sector may have even been colonies of Melida/Daan but became their own systems as the war on Melida/Daan forced them into isolation.”

“Thee is investigating that from a historical perspective?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Good. I don’t require further updates on the historical aspects unless it becomes relevant to our mission.”

“Understood. I have sent the list to Dagher. He will create a shortlist of the planets and moons for evaluation for suitability to support a new colony that the Republic cannot object to the Melidaan choosing to occupy as they are duly registered to the now-named Melidaan System.”

“That’s helpful. Next?”

“The governor issued orders through his ministers that they quietly begin preparations to evacuate, though no orders or communications have been logged with me.”

Rin’s eyebrows shot up, and she knew she had everyone’s attention with that little tidbit. “Any other explanation?”

“No, simply that they would be moving when a new moon could be found. Kenobi said something about the distant moon Cerasi used to stare at in the night sky, and the other ministers seemed to understand.”

Rin was at a loss. “See if you can get Master Ohri to find out which is Cerasi’s moon so Dagher can evaluate it first. And ask the governor if he could loop in the Corps masters on-site…?”

“Understood, Admiral. However, my next update is from Master Ebé. He’s taking the governor and deputy governor to meet with another planetary leader. Master Ebé sent you a private com. They’ve left with Master Tholme.”

“Wait! They’ve already left? Lodha took the governor to another world? What the hell is going on?”

“He said it was the will of the Force.”

“I’m going to shoot him.”

“Yes, Admiral. I’ll arrange for extra blaster charge packs to be left in your quarters. Anything else?”

“Yes. Who is the deputy governor?”

“According to the data provided, which I have reviewed several times, the last person elected to that position was Ben of the house Cerasi.”

“I am going to kill Lodha.”

“Yes, Admiral. I’ll let Master Ohri and Master Kan know they’ll need to prepare for a new member on the Convocation.”

She huffed and ended the com with Vex. Then she pulled up her com recordings, waving down all the questions.

Lodha’s was waiting for her.

“Hello, Rinnea. I had an interesting request for transportation from the governor. I’ve considered it carefully and meditated on the matter, and I do believe it’s the will of the Force that I take him to his meeting with… Well, best leave that part off. Your hair will no doubt fall out if I tell you. But we’re headed for Bandomeer. Weirdly convenient since there’s an AgriCorps outpost there, so I have every reason to be present, and it won’t raise a single eyebrow.

“We’re not going to disclose the presence of the governor aboard the vessel. The Diplomacy Corps apparently has an ongoing anti-slavery mission there, so it was timely that Master Tholme just dropped out of hyperspace.

“The Force provides, my dear. So, we’re about to rendezvous with Tholme and his hyper little padawan and head for Bandomeer. It’s right off the Hydian, so even though it’s quite far, it should still be only about four days since we can stay in hyperspace. Assuming things go well, we’ll be back in nine. If drinking is required, maybe a full tenday.

“The Young are going to start preparing for evacuation. The governor has left instructions with his ministers, but they want the crèche evacuated as soon as possible, even if they have to live on a ship for a while. And, no, I really don’t know what was said down there. He said they could be prepared to move all the Young in as little as three weeks, but negotiations to move the Elders would take longer, and logistics for any new Elder settlement still need to be discussed. He deferred to Master Yaddle as he said she seemed quite sensible.

“If it’s an emergency, they can leave immediately. I believe what he hopes to get out of this meeting is worth it and will solve a lot of the issues that we know would arise when we move them to a new home. We just haven’t voiced those concerns yet.

“Interesting how they’ve come to the problem and solution already. In any case, may the Force be with you. I’ll see you in a tenday.”

Rin ended the com replay and pressed her lips into a thin line, fighting with her rarely aroused temper.

“What just happened?” Sifo-Dyas asked, sounding bewildered.

“I’m going to pluck every single one of his feathers,” Rin declared.

***

Obi-Wan sat with his hands folded and waited for the tense silence to end. It helped that Nield was sitting right next to him. They’d taken a shuttle to Master Tholme’s ship, leaving the Guiding Star behind. Tholme’s ship was smaller but still adequate for their party since he had to have a big enough ship for his routine interruptions in slavery operations, which resulted in transporting refugees.

He didn’t sense any anger from Quinlan, but Quinlan was also never still and quiet, and yet he was both as he stood with his arms crossed, staring intently.

Master Ebé had left with Master Tholme and Master Soren, getting them underway almost immediately and discussing who knows what of the mission ahead of them. When they’d explained the situation to Master Ebé, he’d unexpectedly given a thoughtful hum and then told them he’d escort them to Bandomeer personally. Which hadn’t been on Obi-Wan’s scanner at all.

Finally, Quinlan broke. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Obi-Wan raised a brow. “Quinlan—”

“Don’t you ‘Quinlan’ me, Obes. I’ve sent you message after message since I heard you returned to the temple, and you never replied to a single comm. What in the Force am I supposed to think of that?”

Obi-Wan glanced away, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t think I’d be staying.”

“What does that mean?”

Obi-Wan’s gaze snapped to his long-time friend. “I have no master, Quin! They barely let me back. What am I supposed to do? At the time, I didn’t know where I was going to go. I’d been banished from Melidaan, and I—” Obi-Wan’s voice broke. “I was broken and lost.”

Nield squeezed his arm in reassurance.

Quin’s arms dropped to his sides, and his expression was twisted with pain. “I would have helped.”

“How, Quin? What were you going to do?”

“You have to let people in, Obi. Since they first sent you off to AgriCorps with no warning, you’ve been bottling everything up inside. Refusing to make waves, not saying the things out loud that you should. You can’t just sacrifice yourself in the pursuit of being a Jedi knight.”

“I do know that now.”

“And yet you still didn’t ask us for help.”

“Us who, Quin? What were you and Bant going to do?”

“You didn’t even give us a chance, Obi-Wan. I’ve known you since before you could walk, and you didn’t let me even try to help.”

“I’m…” Obi-Wan swallowed down the sorrow and the regret. “I’m sorry, Quin.”

Quin’s expression was filled with sadness. “I know.” He crossed the space in two strides. “Come here. I’ve missed you.” He pulled Obi-Wan to his feet and hugged him tightly.

Obi-Wan readily returned the embrace, registering how much height Quin had gained in the time he’d been away. “Why is everyone else getting taller while I’m staying the same,” he grumbled against Quin’s shoulder.

“Penance for your stubbornness,” Quin said tartly. “It keeps you short.”

Obi-Wan’s laugh was the wrong side of watery. Quinlan squeezed him tighter.

Quin finally murmured, “You need to send Bant a com. She wanted to give you your space, but she’s worried. They all are… Reeft, Garen. Siri’s being a hard head, but she’ll come around.” Pulling back, Quin held Obi-Wan by the upper arms, the familiar press of his gloves against Obi-Wan’s skin. “They know you’ve been through things they can’t hope to understand, and they thought they were helping by letting you have your space after you rebuffed them the first couple of times. I told them the right thing to do was sit on you until you gave in and talked.”

He managed a small smile. “I guess you always knew me best.”

“Damn right.” He gave Obi-Wan a little shake. “Com her, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good. Now, introduce me properly to your friend.”

“Co-leader,” Nield corrected, getting to his feet. “And also friend, of course, but that’s not why I’m on a ship for the first time in my life.”

Quin arched a brow in inquiry. “Really?”

“Apparently, I’m still the deputy governor…?” Obi-Wan said sheepishly.

“Are you allowed to do that?” Quin asked Obi-Wan

Before Obi-Wan could reply, Nield countered, “Does the Jedi Order think they can control what names we put in our election?”

Quin laughed. “Yeah, okay.” He held out a gloved hand. “Quinlan Vos.”

“Nield.”

“Just Nield?”

“We used to have house names, but we forswore those when we became Young. We’re in the process of determining new house names. That will be a matter for when we return.”

“Okay, then.” Quin rubbed his hands together. “So, what are we up to? I have your saber, by the way. We stopped on Coruscant to get it.”

Obi-Wan made a face. “It doesn’t really resonate with me anymore.”

“Have you meditated with it?”

Hesitating fractionally, Obi-Wan shook his head. “I wasn’t allowed to keep it except for saber practice.”

Quinlan huffed. “That’s…really kriffing stupid.”

“You know Master Tholme hates it when you swear.”

“Master Tholme isn’t here.”

“One of these days, Quinlan,” Master Tholme said from the doorway.

Quinlan smiled brightly. “Master! A delightful job you’ve done shielding your presence, as always.”

Tholme crossed the room and tweaked one of Quin’s locs. “I wasn’t shielding our bond, you little imp.” He shook his head fondly and then looked at Obi-Wan. “Master Soren and Master Ebé would like to speak with you.” He gave Quinlan a look. “There might be meditation to be had. Perhaps you’d like to join…?”

“Oh, no, Master. I’ve promised to teach Nield how to play sabacc.”

Nield just raised his brows.

“It’s a vital skill for all planetary leaders,” Quin added.

“He’s probably not wrong,” Obi-Wan said with a laugh. “Though he’s just trying to get out of what he worries will be hours of meditation.”

“Hours, Ben?” Nield said, aghast.

“Ben?” Quin echoed softly.

“Hours would not be unheard of.”

“I think sabacc sounds like a fine idea,” Nield said hurriedly.

Quinlan slung his arm around Nield’s shoulders. “It really is a valuable life skill. I’ll show you around the ship first.”

“Don’t break him—” Obi-Wan began.

“I won’t!” Quin shot back.

“—Nield,” Obi-wan finished. “Master Tholme would like to be able to finish training this padawan.”

“Obi!” Quinlan protested over Master Tholme’s laugh.

Obi-Wan let Master Tholme lead him away to join the Masters Soren and Ebé.

Master Tholme brought him to a meditation room. “I want to make one thing clear, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master Tholme?” he asked warily.

“Even if you choose to leave the Order, we will not abandon you. The high council may lead us, but they do not own us. You are family to Quinlan. The Order may tell us to eschew our attachments, but they fail to realize healthy attachments keep us sane, and so they fail to teach us how to keep said attachments healthy. It’s something I’m working to foster in my padawan.

“So, if you have need of us, and we are able, we will come to your aid. Had we known more about the situation on Melida/Daan, we would have been there to retrieve you at the least, but probably to help you, knowing Quinlan.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile.

“Just know that you’re not alone, no matter how the past year may have felt.”

He managed to nod, and Tholme left him after a pat on the shoulder.

Inside, he found Master Ebé on a meditation mat; Master Soren had abandoned his mat and was preparing tea. A third had been left for him. He was rather glad neither were advocates of deliberately enduring discomfort during meditation. He knew Jedi were capable of meditating so deeply they didn’t notice discomfort, but the physical toll was still present when you surfaced from your communion with the Force. Obi-Wan was too young to want to endure aching knees, thank you very much.

He settled into a cross-legged position, not wanting to kneel today. “Good day, Masters.”

Master Ebé inclined his head. “Hello, child. Rin—that is, Admiral Wodij mentioned that you might do with a meditation session with me. Von-Re further explained that it seemed there was some push-pull between the Cosmic Force and the Unifying Force during your meditations with him. Does that sound right?”

“I’m not sure, Master. I know that when I try to meditate at times, I get visions—in ways I don’t expect.”

“Do you know why they might ask me to meditate with you? I who have no affinity with either?”

“No, Master.”

“It’s two-fold. The first is I’m very, very old and have encountered many different manifestations of the Force at work. The second is that I have no affinity for either the Cosmic or the Unifying. So, neither of them will have any particular influence on me during meditation. I can observe without risking my own affinity being triggered. As an example, if you’re in a deep shared meditation with someone who shares your affinity for the Unifying Force, and you’re given a vision, that temporary Force connection can trigger their own connection to the Unifying, and they’ll either share your vision, or it will induce one of their own.”

“But that can’t happen to you?”

“It cannot. I’m so rooted in the Living Force, the Unifying Force couldn’t induce a vision any more than I could cause a plant to grow out of transparisteel. Some things are simply incompatible. But I can observe the flow and movement of it during meditation, which is what Master Soren has requested. That said, I’m uncertain if the timing is ideal for such a thing. May I?” He held out his hands.

Obi-Wan readily reached out, letting Master Ebé take his hands.

“Is this all right with you?”

“Of course, Master Ebé.”

“You know, you don’t have to agree, correct?”

“I know.” Obi-Wan felt his cheeks heat. “I just feel badly sometimes that I’m so awful with the Living Force, and then they sent me to Bandomeer, and those poor beings at the outpost were trying to figure out what to do with me while not letting me near any plants…”

“So you think you owe me….?”

“No! I just.” His face felt hotter. “I don’t always want to look so awful to your branch of the Order. Is that terrible?”

Master Ebé chuckled. “Child, that’s charming, really. I’m sure you’ll be a delight to the members of my corps if you just don’t try to make anything grow. They’ll appreciate that you know your limitations. I’ve been around long enough to have seen those so strong in the Cosmic Force that night-blooming hyacinth actually tries to crawl back into the ground to escape from them. It’s all part of our existence, and we learn how to co-exist, yes?”

“Of course, Master Ebé.”

“Let us begin.” Master Ebé focused his sharp gaze directly on Obi-Wan, almost looking through him. Just touching the master’s hands made his connection to the Force feel settled and smoothed out in a way it hadn’t felt in entirely too long.

Obi-Wan was captivated by the Force markings on Master Ebé’s face and shoulders. Up close, it was clear that when drawing on the Force, the marks did move subtly; they weren’t static like a tattoo.

It was a lot like being observed by Master Yoda; Obi-Wan could tell Master Ebé was simply observing him through the Force, paying attention to how the Force moved around him.

Finally, Master Ebé let go of Obi-Wan’s hands just before he reached up to cup his face. “The Force has a great plan for you, child, and I do think Master Soren’s request has merit; however, I believe the timing should wait until we are on our way back from Bandomeer.”

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion.

“There are pragmatic matters you need to settle. That said, it’s clear to me that the push-pull of the Cosmic and Unifying Force during meditation is not going to be easily solved because both are swirling around you almost constantly.” His hands hovered over Obi-Wan’s head. “It’s like a thin layer over your entire being. But being without meditation is not good for you, child.”

Master Ebé hesitated before continuing. “May I start with a question for you?”

Obi-Wan inclined his head in acquiescence.

“What are your intentions when it comes to the Order?”

“I…don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you want, or you don’t know what you’ll be allowed?”

He took a moment to consider that. “I suppose the latter.”

“Hmm.” Master Ebé cocked his head to the side, the effect very bird-like for some reason that had nothing to do with the wings. “Without being concerned for our sensibilities, if you could have anything, what would you do next?”

“I wish there were a way to be Young and still be a Jedi Knight.” He sighed. “My earliest visions were of me as a Jedi Knight. It’s difficult to reconcile the loss of that, but I don’t see how that can happen now.”

“And why not?”

“I have no master; I don’t know how to even acclimate to life in the temple again. Being there felt like being…untethered. And it felt extremely unsafe.”

Master Ebé and Master Soren exchanged glances before Master Ebé asked, “Was the lack of safety the double effect of being much too close to a Sith while also having a withering bond to a master who wasn’t properly caring for you after you’d been at war for a year?” Master Ebé asked the question in a matter-of-fact tone that could have been hurtful if it wasn’t for the deep compassion in his gaze and his Force presence.

“I think so, yes. But also…I am Young. There’s more to my connection to them than just a label; I’m not sure I can explain.”

“Mm.” Another bird-like tilt, and Obi-Wan noticed again how Master Ebé’s dark Force markings actually moved sometimes. “May I examine you with the Force? More deeply than I already have? Allow me to just deeply ponder your Force presence while you drink the tea Von-Re has prepared?”

“I…suppose.” He looked to Master Soren for reassurance.

“It’ll be fine, Obi-Wan.”

“Yes, Master.”

He drank his tea while Master Ebé did whatever it was he was doing. Obi-Wan sometimes felt an odd sensation that was like an unfamiliar Force presence pushing at him. He supposed it was the fact that Master Ebé’s Force affinity was the Living Force that made it feel so peculiar.

Finally, the oddness retreated entirely, and Master Ebé fixed him with an interested gaze. “I think it’s in your nature to easily develop Force bonds. The type of skills you learned on Melida/Daan in a very real sense has made you a sort of spiritual leader of their people.”

“So, you’re saying there is a bond?” Obi-Wan clarified.

“It seems to be more of a tether,” Master Ebé explained. “It’s not harmful, and it could possibly be broken if that’s what you really wanted, but we should examine the rest of your wishes before we pursue that question any further. You say you wish you could be Jedi and Young. You are tethered to the Young, so effectively you are of the Young. And you think you cannot be Jedi because you have no master.

“However, I know many have indicated they would offer for you when the time comes. The time may not be now if you feel too much is in flux; also, your own wishes are uncertain to many of us. Perhaps uncertain to all. I think they need to know that you still wish to be a Jedi.”

“How can I be a Jedi and be Young? More importantly, I don’t think I can return to the Academy.”

“Whether the Council of this day discusses it or not, there are many who were trained outside of our formal system. As we speak, there are those being trained by wandering Jedi near the fringes of Wild Space. A Jedi is a calling; it’s a way of life and a way of existing in the universe. The question remains, what do you wish?”

“I want to be a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “I’ve always wanted that. I feel the Force call me to knighthood in my blood and bones; I know I could go to the corps, but I don’t feel that pull. But the Force also pulled me up by my kyber crystal and told me to pay attention on Melida/Daan. It told me not to leave, to stay, to fix. The Force put me in a position to be Young. Yet, everything I know about how the Order works says I can’t be Young and be Jedi. So, how do I answer your question, Master?”

“You have already, child. All I needed was to hear what you wanted. Now, I ask you to have some patience with Master Soren and myself and let us work on a solution that will serve what the Force has called you to. Because sometimes the Force makes demands of us individually that the organization known as the Jedi Order is not equipped for, and we must step outside our known structure and adapt.”

Master Ebé shared a look with Master Soren and then he looked back to Obi-Wan again. The swirls of his facial markings seemed to pulse a little Force energy, and Obi-Wan couldn’t look away. “For the duration of our journey, I’m going to prescribe a strict regimen of moving meditation.”

“Moving meditation?” Obi-Wan echoed.

“Yes. Ground yourself in the physical aspects of the Force. I understand your kyber crystal doesn’t resonate well with you at this time, but work through the lightsaber forms in moving meditation. The Physical Force is your best option to ground yourself in during meditation to prevent being overwhelmed by the demands of the Cosmic Force.”

“I was always taught to ground myself in the Living Force.”

“Terrible, terrible idea. It’s a tool for those who are strong solely in the Unifying Force, and not even one I’d recommend for them as it’s a lazy way to blunt visions and does nothing to train a Force-sensitive who has the burden of visions in how to manage them. But that technique can actually damage a connection to the Cosmic Force. We can work on that as well. We’ll have at least ten days in hyperspace—between the journey there and back—so there’s plenty of time to practice grounding yourself in the physical connection to the Force. Literally, ground yourself in your own physical awareness of time and space.

“Perhaps if Rin were to take you to the fringes of Wild Space, you could get a feel for the Wild Force and try that… It’s an unconventional grounding aspect for the Cosmic Force, but I’ve heard it’s highly effective. But it’s largely out of reach in the densely populated portions of the galaxy. You have to have encountered the Wild Force in order to be able to touch it.”

Curious, Obi-Wan cocked his head to the side. “You’ve encountered the Wild Force?”

“I have.”

“What’s it like?”

“Despite its name, it’s entirely…orderly.”

Giving a startled snort of amusement, Obi-Wan clapped his hand over his mouth. “Really?” his voice was muffled through his hand.

“Oh yes. The Living Force is the most chaotic—life is chaos, after all. The Wild Force is unpredictable at times, but generally feels like…” Master Ebé cocked his head to the side. “To me, it feels like a battering ram made from building blocks. I’m not sure how else to describe it. Very uncomfortable for me as it’s not the balancing aspect to my natural affinity, and I’m more limited than most in the way I can interact with the Force.”

“Is anyone’s natural affinity the Wild Force?”

“For certain. There are those born near the fringes of Wild Space, and the Wild Force will call to them. There are a couple in Rin’s Corps, and they tend to prefer to staff vessels that permanently stay closer to the unknown. One of Jaro’s good friends is aligned to the Wild Force.” Master Ebé smiled gently. “Are you avoiding the issue about your future in the Order?”

“Perhaps a little,” Obi-Wan admitted. “But I’ve always enjoyed learning, too. I’ve missed it.”

Master Soren reached out and squeezed Obi-Wan’s arm. “Learning isn’t lost to you, Obi-Wan. You’ve dedicated your time since coming to the temple in the pursuit of a specific research topic, and now that you’ve achieved your goal, you can return to your own educational pursuits.”

Obi-Wan nodded, but everything still felt so far out of reach.

Master Ebé’s Force presence radiated understanding and sympathy. “You should avoid any grounding techniques you were taught as a child that rely on the Living Force; those will simply make the Cosmic Force more insistent with you now that the block that technique had created is broken. The Physical Force is your best option.” He rose smoothly to his feet, towering over Obi-Wan. “I’ll leave you and Von-Re to your discussion.”

Obi-Wan stared after Master Ebé’s departing form, wings fluttering a bit just before the door closed, then he turned his attention to his healer. “Master Soren?”

Master Soren moved closer and took both of Obi-Wan’s hands. “You know I’m very fond of you, Obi-Wan.”

“Master?” Obi-Wan was unaccountably alarmed.

Master Soren squeezed his hands. “I’m very old for my species, you know this, yes?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I’m entirely too old for fieldwork, which is why I retired to the temple to put my healer’s training to work. That said, if I could be everything you needed in a master, I would offer to take you as my padawan in a heartbeat.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes filled with tears before he could get control of his emotions. “Thank you, Master.”

“All that to say, where you go, I’ll go.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “Master?”

“If you choose to stay on Melidaan, or whatever moon or planet they reside on, I’d like to stay with you. I’d like you to take the time to consider this and also hear the other offers that will come your way, but one option is that I become your Master and finish what would be your Academy training—except it would obviously be done remotely. And I would have to find another master who would act as your master in the field.”

“Is that allowed?” Obi-Wan struggled with the bubble of hope welling inside of him.

“It’s been done. There have been circumstances where there were benefits to a certain master-padawan pairing but the master couldn’t provide all the training a padawan needed. Sometimes, there’s a split where a master will train the padawan in their younger years, and another master will take over when they’re older. Other times, it’s the sort of split I’m suggesting where one trains in the temple or, rather, at home base, and the other handles field missions.”

“But…why?”

“I believe it is the will of the Force that you be trained to be a Jedi, not to put too fine a point on it. I also see so much potential in you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan clutched at Master Soren’s wrists. “No one wanted me,” he whispered.

“Oh, child.” He extracted one hand to gently cup the side of Obi-Wan’s head. “I don’t believe that’s true. I believe Yoda specifically wanted you for Qui-Gon, and no one wanted to cross Yoda. You are a promising student and were always well regarded.”

Obi-Wan frowned, trying to take that on board. “I still feel…damaged.”

“That may be, but being in perfect condition was never a requirement for an apprenticeship. You’ve come so far in healing from the ordeal of war, something you should have never been put through, but there’s much journey still to travel, yes? Every day is another step. Perhaps the hardest aspect of your healing journey is that you can’t draw comfort from the Force the way you always have.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip and tried not to get emotional.

“You’re dysregulated and trying your best to compensate, but not being able to meditate properly or draw the Force close for fear of what might happen is making your path less clear and your recovery harder. Please have faith in us—in me—that we’ll protect you through these next steps. We’ll find a solution.”

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there? Whatever Master Ebé isn’t saying, why he didn’t want to meditate with me…?”

“I have a suspicion about your calling in the Force, and I think once Lodha confirms that calling, he’s worried it will set off a chain reaction of sorts. He’s giving you space to sort out your matters for Melidaan before the two of you have that discussion.”

“Am I going to be forced to go back to the temple?” It was inconsistent, and he knew that. He desperately wanted to be a Jedi, but he also didn’t want to be forced back to the temple to live in that stifling box where he felt inadequate and scrutinized.

“No one is going to force you to do anything, child. Will you give me the gift of your time and patience?”

“Yes, Master. And you have my trust as well.”

Master Soren pulled him into a firm hug. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

Chapter Ten

Rin faced the council of veritable children, feeling completely out of her depth. Diplomatic missions were not her forte, but these child soldiers, for some reason, considered her the authority amongst all the Jedi present. They responded well to Plo Koon, as most children did, but they didn’t seem to regard him as an authority figure because he wasn’t military.

She thought to explain that the ExplorCorps wasn’t an actual Navy, though her ship ranks could be argued to be such, but she knew it was splitting hairs with these children that wouldn’t help the situation.

Tash had been deemed to be the spokesperson for the Melidaan and had considered all the information provided, had then conferred with the council, and had come back for this meeting. “So, there’s some creepy Sith tree out there and it’s messing with us, and now it’s become more urgent that we evacuate?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay…?” That seemed too easy.

Tash shrugged.

“Your leaders are off-planet,” Rin said cautiously.

“Yes, but they told us to be prepared for this before they left and left us with instructions.”

“Instructions,” Rin repeated dryly.

“Sure.”

“Can you elaborate?” Rin prodded.

“Nield said you’d come to one of three possible locations, and that we should probably pick the moon further from Zhar.”

Rin frowned, but it was obvious how they’d known what the ExplorCorps analysis would be. She made mental note to remind Kenobi to stop using that ability without supervision. “And it’s conclusive that Melidaan has rights to that moon?” She knew Thee’s research had indicated as much thus far, but it would be interesting to see how much the records of this isolated planet matched up with the Republic’s after so long.

“Oh, sure. We have rights to most of the uninhabited moons and planets in the Melida-Daan system, which is one of the largest in the sector based on our old maps, but those agreements are ancient, and most planets have forgotten about us. Back when the Cadavine sector was formed and the planet was brought into the Republic, this planet was the major financial and political power out here.” She scratched her head and looked at Jaz. “We gave Master Ohri all our documentation about the original treaties, right?”

“Sure.” Jaz nodded. “Not certain how helpful our old databanks are, though.”

Tash looked back to Rin. “We’ve lost a lot, but there’s still a digitrail of some of the old stuff. We’ve been neutered and can’t even enter hyperspace without help anymore, but we still have our past. The message left indicated that if we take the moon closer to the Zhar system, we’ll wind up in more conflict due to something happening with pirates on the Triellus Trade Route.”

Rin rubbed her forehead. “Okay, we’ll also issue an alert to Judicial about what sounds like a smuggling drop.”

Tash shrugged her shoulders, obviously not caring about what might happen on a moon she didn’t plan to occupy. “Nield also said to leave the Elders on-planet until he gets back to talk to ‘em.”

Rin’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they can’t be trusted in a new settlement, and we can’t spare resources to police their bad behavior while setting up a new colony.”

“They can only get better,” Reloth Kan interjected, “if they’re taken off this world.”

“Yeah,” Tash agreed with a lot of bite in her tone. “But they can do that after all of us are settled. Shouldn’t make much difference, right? I’m not giving them opportunities to kill us off. In fact, it’s likely Nield won’t want them to know where our new colony even is.”

Rin frowned. “Is Nield not planning to have them eventually join you?”

Tash shrugged. “That I don’t know.”

“If they don’t rejoin you, and they don’t live here…”

“You’ll have to ask Nield about all of that.”

“Well, I would, but he ran off with one of our padawans.”

Tash’s smile was sharp. “Great, isn’t it? Ben and Nield will do right by us, never you fear.”

Rin wanted to throttle a certain winged someone. “So, your evacuation numbers are around seven thousand?”

“Seven thousand, one hundred and eighteen. Well, one hundred and sixteen with those two off on an adventure.”

“And how long would it take you to mobilize that number for readiness to evacuate?”

“Depends on the kind of evacuation, Admiral. As little as six hours, but seventy-two hours would be better.”

“Well, it doesn’t need to be that fast.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead, not liking how she was continually slapped in the face with the realities of children who had been at war as little as three months ago.

“I have ExplorCorps and AgriCorps vessels inbound, arriving daily over the next week. Even if we go with the moon Ben chose, we still have surveys to conduct. I’d like the youngest ready to move to the ships in staggered groups starting in three days, and we’ll hopefully finish surveys in a tenday. We can then begin setting up the modular AgriCorps base and doing the large-scale move.” They planned to use an AgriCorps base for the new settlement. It was the fastest way to get the Young set up, and the bases were customizable and could support populations of up to twenty thousand, depending on the configuration.

ExplorCorps ships were bringing in the modular landing pads she’d discussed with Tash so they could build a spaceport as well. She had no idea what Obi-Wan and Nield were up to, but she had a feeling that planetary access was going to be more of a requirement in an ongoing fashion.

Reloth cleared her throat. “One question, Tash. Do any of the Elders have babies?”

Tash’s face went hard. “No. We don’t allow that.”

“You don’t…allow it?”

“No. There were two born shortly after the treaty. They’re raised communally, as all Young are. All other children of the Melida and Daan were placed in the communal crèche as part of the treaty terms. When the Republic Aid workers were here, we asked for birth control, to help us get on our feet without worry about accidents.” She looked to Jaz, who was the Minister of Health.

Jaz finished. “The aid workers happily supplied us with the medication for injections that provide a year of birth control. All Elders were required to take them.”

Rin refused to let any expression show.

Reloth cleared her throat. “Did the aid workers know what you were—”

“No, and it wasn’t any of their business,” Jaz said sternly. “Every Elder is guilty of trying to murder their own children. The treaty terms are no more children for them at this time.”

“We agreed to a ceasefire,” Tash said, arms crossed, “we didn’t agree to give them more victims.”

Yoda had been silent, resting on his gimer stick, watching closely. “Get better, they could.”

Tash just raised her eyebrow at him and, after a long stare-off, said, “They’re not better now. They can’t be trusted with children.”

“Okay,” Rin said, needing to head this off at the pass. It was generally considered a war crime to remove children from their parents but, then again, most wars didn’t have the children at war with said parents. “The interim plan is to leave the Elders in their villages, and we’ll move forward with the rough plan we’ve outlined today. Though, there’s a lot of refinement to do in the days ahead.”

“And what about the creepy tree?” Tash pressed.

“We can’t do anything about the tree until everyone is off the planet. We’re going to continue to study it and ensure we’re ready to break the spell once the evacuation here is complete.”

“And is there a chance breaking that spell could destroy the planet?”

Rin exchanged a look with Thee Ohri, who shrugged.

“A powerful Force vergence this is,” Yoda replied. “Certainty we cannot have.”

“Then it’s good we have more time to evacuate.” She made some hand gestures to her council. “Leaving for good isn’t the same as leaving for now.” She paused and met Rin’s gaze. “I don’t want you to think we’re not grateful, because we are. I’m just tense with Nield and Ben gone.”

“Would it be better if they were here?”

“No. We trust Ben. If he felt there was a solution to some problem in them leaving, then there was a solution in them leaving.”

“Much faith you have in Ben, hmm?” Yoda asked.

“Faith is blind, untested. Ben has proven himself to us; he’s one of us.”

“Keep him, you would?”

“We don’t have to keep him for him to be one of us. He was with you when he arranged for us to be saved, Master Yoda. He’s Young. He’ll always be Young. I don’t need faith because I trust him. It’s too bad you don’t.”

Yoda sighed and shook his head.

“Tash,” Jaz admonished softly.

“Yeah, I know. He’s a million years old and way wiser than me. I get it. But I see Ben for who he is, so I’m not the one who karked that situation up.”

Yoda pursed his lips. “Meant to be a Jedi, Obi-Wan is.”

Tash went down to one knee. “You’ve had him back for three months, and there’s no braid in his hair.”

“Giving him time to recover, we were.”

Tash’s face twisted up, her scar making her disdain for that comment even more pronounced. She rose to her feet and made a dismissive gesture. “I have work to do.”

Once all the Young had filed out, Yoda huffed at Rin. “Coming back to the temple, Obi-Wan is.”

“No. No!” Rin waved her finger at him. “Don’t try to pull me into this little war. I’m not interested. I’m interested in the actual will of the Force, not what you’ve decided the will of the Force will be, you old bog troll.”

He narrowed his eyes and pointed his gimer stick at her.

She ignored the stick. “Lodha’s going to take you on a spiritual retreat to your home planet if you don’t chill out and stop being conniving.” At his expression, she sighed. “You can’t control everything; you have to let go.”

His shoulders rounded as he slumped a bit. “Beginning to call, the Force is. Better, I wish to see the Order before my time ends.”

Rin frowned. “How insistently?”

“Years I still have.”

“But you see the darkness and hope to set things to rights,” she concluded. “Okay, I get that, but you can’t achieve it by manipulation. I’m not sure what you see in the kiddo, but once he answered the Force’s call here on this planet, his path was between him and the Force. You need to fall into the embrace of the Force, little father, not tug so hard against it.”

Yoda looked sad and a little contemplative. “Consider your counsel, I shall.”

Rin went down to one knee. “You know, there are worse legacies than staying here with these children and helping them heal, right? It might help you heal a little too.”

Yoda blinked at her in shock. “What healing think you I have need of?”

“I think the growing darkness has been harder on you than most. Maybe just embrace the light for a while. Nothing is lighter than children. You’d also be a powerful force of protection as they try to recover.”

“mm.”

“Let me ask you this: do you think what happened here was wrong?”

He tilted his head to this side.

“Objectively speaking, was this wrong?”

Yoda made another little humming noise. “Wrong it was, yes. Even without the Sith spell, painful this is for the Force.”

“And yet the constraints placed upon your corps by the Senate would have prevented you from acting to help these children, would it not?”

Yoda’s face scrunched up with displeasure.

“These agreements we’re bound by, the constraints you operate under, they might be doing more harm than good at this point.”

He made another noncommittal noise.

“Think about it.”

“Consider it, I shall.”

***

“What do you think it means?” Nield asked. “This bond with our people?”

“I thought maybe you’d know,” Obi-Wan admitted.

“Not in any meaningful way.” Nield leaned against a viewing port, watching hyperspace as he tapped the flat of a vibroblade against his thigh. “There were old folktales about the original pathfinders; how they’d lead our people, but that connection with our ancient traditions is so long past, there’s more information lost than retained. I assume this bond is connected to those old legends.” He gave Obi-Wan a speaking look. “When it comes to matters for us, you can easily use the skills you and Cerasi learned.”

“You mean for the Young?”

“Yes.”

“It’s easier. The more I do it, the easier it becomes. Sometimes, I do it without really trying if the decision point is looming large or of major import.”

“It’s when you try to seek answers for the galaxy at large that there’s a problem?” Nield clarified.

“Yes. Or, rather, the impact of any given choice as it ripples beyond our smaller decision tree.”

“I think I understand the distinction you’re making.” He continued to stare out at the passing stars. “I want the bond you have with us to mean something, Ben, so I don’t know how to answer the questions you have. You seek objective answers. You’re used to detachment and rationality, and I’m not good at that.”

“Do you think I’m asking that of you?”

Nield finally met his gaze. “Are you?”

“I just want to know what you think, Nield.”

Nield sighed. “Mostly, I wonder if you trust me enough to stay with us, if you can see yourself making us your home.”

Obi-Wan felt his face heat. “Nield. I’m trying to figure things out, but I’m not holding a grudge against you; I swear it.”

Nield stepped closer. “You’re too forgiving, Ben, and I probably don’t deserve it, but I want it, so I’m not going to argue with you. I think you belong with us; I think your Force thinks you belong with us. I don’t know how to answer any of your other questions.”

Obi-Wan smiled faintly. “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“I’d rather everyone just be honest. I feel like everyone is tiptoeing around my feelings, and I don’t know why.”

“I may have an answer for that…” Nield put his back to the viewing port. There was a small ledge at hip height, allowing them both to lean back against it, side-by-side, pressed against each other.

“What’s your theory?”

“You walk in two places, strong yet fragile.”

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan exclaimed indignantly.

“Let me finish,” Nield said chidingly. “The Young have never known anything but war. We were raised to it, born to expect to someday fight, with thoughts to one day subdue the other side, to come out victorious and claim the planet for ourselves. But you were raised to think you were going to help people, raised in a life of peace, trained in your apprenticeship as a peacekeeper and diplomat.”

Nield angled himself to face Obi-Wan, barely a hand span between them. “You made such a difference—your fighting skill, your will to succeed, your knack for strategy, even your compassion and drive. And then your connection to the Force was what tipped the balance, your ability to look at the outcomes of your choices. But none of that changes that you were not born to war, Ben. You were born to seek peace, and then you spent a year surrounded by death. Everyone is watching you, expecting you to have a reaction, I think.”

Obi-Wan tried to absorb what Nield was telling him. “Do you?”

“I think…” Nield paused and considered. “In many ways, you’re as hard as Tash or me, battle-honed, and you don’t need anyone to hold your hand, but in other ways, you’re as soft as Runi, and your feelings are hurt, and you don’t know how to ask for help.”

Obi-Wan’s breath caught.

“I hate that I can’t help you the way you need, but this is all I’ve ever known, and I don’t know what it is that you’re missing.”

Obi-Wan fiddled with the sad lank of hair behind his right ear. “I don’t feel safe,” he whispered, tears filling his eyes. “There’s a profound security in a master-padawan bond, and it’s supposed to ground you through your maturation in the Force. I’ve been considering why I feel the way I do, and I think not having that to fall back on when I returned to the temple has been…harder than I wanted to admit. I keep using the Force as if that essential element is there, but it’s not.”

“And there’s no easy substitute, is there?”

“No, not really. There’s something specific that happens in the knight trials that changes and matures your connection to the Force, allowing the bond to your master to fade to the background or be severed. This unmoored feeling won’t go away unless I blunt my connection to the Force.”

“What happens with the people who go into your service corps?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I think they usually wind up with apprenticeship bonds of some sort that are similar in function, but it’s rare to have a bond of that type then lose it entirely and just exist in this sort of untethered state.” He wrapped his arms around himself.

“And no one wants to be your master?”

“That’s a commitment to a specific path, and I’ve been reluctant to make that commitment.” He shook his head. “This is as much on me as anyone else; please don’t feel ill towards the Order. I thought perhaps no one was interested in taking me on, but Master Soren says that’s not true. I just don’t know how to say yes when I don’t know how to—”

“How to what? You know you can say whatever’s truly on your mind with me. I won’t judge you, Ben.”

“I don’t know how to fall back into that box the Order had me in,” he admitted on a whisper, as if it were shameful.

Nield reached out and pulled him into a hug. Obi-Wan was startled at first and then readily relaxed into it. “All these gifts you have, Ben, and you look into what’s the best course for the Young, but you don’t bother asking the Force what’s the right course for you?” Nield murmured against his hair.

Obi-Wan clutched at Nield’s sweater. “I think I might be afraid of the answer.”

“I know you better than to think you’ll surrender to that fear, so we’ll work on it, okay?”

“How?”

“Just talk to me. Talk to Quinlan. He’s desperate to understand what’s going on with you. Just…” Nield pulled back and gave Obi-Wan a sad smile. “Remember that no matter what you get up to in the galaxy, the Young are your people.”

“I’ll remember.”

***

Quinlan scratched at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “I can’t even begin to imagine functioning without a bond at this point. I hadn’t even considered what it must be like for you.” He gave Obi-wan a pensive look. “How much do you think it’s affecting you?”

Obi-Wan sat at the far end of Quin’s bunk, his knee pulled to his chest. “I’m not sure. I feel unmoored. The masters and the healers ask me what I want, and I want a lot, but I also don’t really want anything. I just feel unsafe in my own skin. I can’t meditate properly, and…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Nield is good at noticing things, and he certainly picked out some points I hadn’t considered, but he’s also never understood how a Jedi functions and how our connection to the Force is so vital to our health. How significant our Force bonds can be.”

Quin hopped up. “I think you need to talk to Master Tholme.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I just feel better when he’s read in on things that make me super uncomfortable.”

Obi-Wan gave a half smile and got to his feet. “I do talk to Master Soren about this stuff, you know.”

“Have you talked to him about your conversation with Nield?”

“Not yet. We have a mind healing session tomorrow.”

Quinlan huffed. “Obes, the guy offered to be your master. I think he’s more invested in you than just mind-healing sessions. He’d want to know if you’ve had some epiphanies about what’s going on in that confusing jumble you call a brain.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Quin…”

“Come on. Talk to Master Tholme. He stocks that red tea you like so much that tastes like bantha piss.”

“How in the world do you know what bantha piss tastes like?”

“I don’t, but I’m certain that must be it.”

Half an hour later, Master Tholme’s expression was pensive as Obi-Wan finished his halting recitation of his various conversations. There had been a few clarifying questions about a few events over the last few months.

Finally, Master Tholme offered his hands to Obi-Wan, who accepted the gentle grasp gratefully, feeling his mind briefly sheltered by the care of a powerful Jedi master. “While the situation is far from normal, I want to reassure you that I think your reactions are as normal as they possibly can be but also that you’re handling things admirably. I may be speaking out of turn, but I don’t particularly care, when I say I think the Order failed you in many respects. For that, I am so terribly sorry.

“That said, Master Ebé has had some thoughts into where the Force might be leading you and some insight the Force might be giving you about where to take your future. He hasn’t shared his insight with me, but he’s old enough and experienced enough with the Force that I trust his evaluation of these circumstances.

“However, those choices are yours to make, and I believe that’s why the adults on this ship are letting things alone for the time being. We’ll let things play out as the Force wills on Bandomeer and see if you come to any conclusions about what direction to take in the future.”

Obi-Wan blinked a few times.

“It’s certainly advisable to seek a new apprenticeship and settle your Force bonds as soon as possible, but you already know that. So, why haven’t you done so? I’m not sure you’ll be able to properly meditate until you do. Again, you know this. But the Force seems to be taking you on a bit of a journey, Obi-Wan, and while I dislike the discomfort you’re in right now, I’m inclined to leave you to your own devices and let your journey play out as it will between you and the Force. You know the solution to the problems, and you have chosen to let it lie for the time being, for one reason or another.

“I will say that if Von-Re, Lodha, or I thought you were in danger, we’d certainly intervene.”

“So, there was no point in talking about this?”

“The exact opposite,” Master Tholme said firmly. “I believe you need more insight, not less. I believe you need to understand as much as you can about the last year and the journey you’ve been on, not to mention what the Force has asked of you in order for you to make informed decisions about your future. That can’t happen if it all stays locked inside.

“If moving meditation and detailed conversations are the path to clarity, then that’s what we’ll do. Perhaps some sparring as well.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Could I maybe discuss some of my time on Melida/Daan with you? I know Master Soren has fought in battles as well…”

“I understand; different perspectives can be helpful, and of course I’m available to assist you. You may tell me whatever you wish, and I will listen to it all.”

***

Obi-Wan finished the last Form III kata, feeling dissatisfied. Despite having the mandatory number of lightsaber classes over the last three months, he felt as if he hadn’t had a saber in his hands in years. He powered down the blade and stared at the innocuous metal casing.

Every day, he practiced. Every day, it felt worse, more unfamiliar than the day before.

“That was impressive,” Nield said from where he was leaning against the wall. More often than not, Nield watched him do his katas, and he certainly watched anytime Obi-Wan sparred with Quinlan or Master Tholme.

“It was still…off,” Obi-Wan struggled for the right word. He crossed to Nield and slid down the wall, slouching in a way every one of his prior instructors would be appalled by.

Nield readily slid down to the floor, sitting facing him, but in closer proximity than most at the Academy would be comfortable with—the way they always sat in the tunnels, close enough to whisper so as not to wake the younger children. “What was off about it?”

“I’m so out of step.”

“Are you?”

Obi-Wan looked over at his friend. “What do you mean?”

“You do those katas like you’re still at war.” Nield reached up and touched the side of Obi-Wan’s face, stroking his thumb along the line of Obi-Wan’s jaw, the touch delicate and intimate. He was one of the few beings familiar enough that Obi-Wan would let him this close, yet the touch was new.

“What are you fighting against, Ben?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, feeling choked up.

“Have I made it completely, unequivocally clear yet that I want you to come home?”

“I…” He considered, unable to stop himself from leaning into the touch. “Yes, you’ve been clear.”

“Good.” Nield lowered his hand. “I won’t pressure you, but it won’t change. I know trusting me must be hard, but—” His smile seemed brittle, fragile. “It’s home for you as much as it is for me.” With that, Nield got to his feet. “Tholme said we’d be dropping out of hyperspace within three hours, and we will be able to ascertain the status of the evacuation back home when our coms update.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll change and meet you on the bridge.”

Nield nodded and left the training room.

“You’re in deep,” Quinlan observed, slipping out of the shadows.

Obi-Wan sighed and slumped back against the wall. “Quin….”

“That wasn’t a criticism, Obes. He loves you, you know.”

Obi-Wan felt his face heat. “You can’t know that.”

“I really can know that, and you’d know it too if you didn’t have your empathy locked down tighter than a Gungan’s ar—”

“Quin! That’s so crass.”

“You’re so prissy.” Quin grinned as he dropped down to a crouch. “Can I offer some advice?”

“Can I stop you?”

“Probably not.”

“Then, by all means, advise me.”

Quin reached out and tweaked the short tail of hair Obi-Wan had where a padawan braid should be. “I know you’re off on some quest, seeking some great answer from the Force, but stop trying to do right by everyone else. The Force has always guided you well, Obi; you were always the most comfortable toddler I ever knew about following what the Force wanted, and yet here you are, struggling against it.”

“I feel cut off from the Force, Quin.”

“You’re not; We all feel the Force swirling around you like it’s trying to freaking hug you, and you just need to…” He trailed off as if he was trying to figure out what to say.

“Yes?”

“Figure out what it’s trying to say to you. I think you’re almost at the apex of this journey, and you just need to listen.”

“And if it tells me to leave the Order?”

“Then leave. There are more ways to serve the Force than through the Jedi Order. You know this. Anxiety is your path to fear.”

“It’s not even about that.” He frowned. “I don’t think.”

“Then what is it? What are you afraid will happen if you ask the Force for guidance? Say the first thing that comes to your mind.”

“That I’ll get lost in it; that I won’t know how to get back.”

Quin rocked back on his heels. “That’s…rare. Almost unheard of.”

Obi-Wan looked away. “Master Ebé said he wanted to wait until we were done on Bandomeer to try joint meditation.” Everyone knew the adults on this ship were keeping something to themselves.

Quin nodded slowly. “Okay.” He reached out and tapped under Obi-Wan’s chin. “Hey. We’re not going to let you get lost, okay? We’ll find you.”

Obi-Wan smiled, but it felt like a sad effort.

Quin gave him a half smile in return. “I get it, you know. Even if you’re not the sort to hold a grudge, you must have felt abandoned.”

“It wasn’t even that, Quin. I never thought for a second that you knew what was going on there. I just felt so powerless to do anything. So many died. I always wanted to be a Jedi to help others, and I couldn’t. I just…couldn’t.”

Quin went to his knees and pulled Obi-Wan into a hug. “You were thirteen when you landed on that Force-forsaken dustball, Obi. The galaxy is ugly, and all we can ever do is our best. I have no doubt that your best was what was needed.”

Obi-Wan clutched at the back of Quinlan’s tunic. “They needed a Jedi Knight…or twelve.”

“Maybe, but even if we’d known, that kind of intervention isn’t within the Order’s power to grant, and you know that. The Diplomatic Corps is too controlled by the Senate. Maybe that needs to change; maybe this is the wake-up call they needed. I wish it wasn’t at your expense, but we’ll capitalize on the situation now that it’s at our doorstep.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“Well, Master Tholme had to beat a lot of sense into me to keep me from running off across the galaxy and finding out why my best friend left the Order without even a com call.”

Obi-Wan gave a watery laugh. “I missed you.”

Quin released him and met his gaze. “I’m your friend for life, no matter where our paths take us; remember that.”

“Okay.”

“And seriously, I know you’re still just fourteen—

“Almost fifteen,” Obi-Wan corrected

“—but that boy has it bad for you.”

Obi-Wan flushed to the roots of his hair. “Quinlan.”

“I just think you should keep all the facts in mind. Now, come on. Grab a sonic and meet us to review the com traffic.”

Chapter Eleven

Master Ebé was on a com call when Obi-Wan joined the others on the bridge, which ended shortly after his arrival. He gave Obi-Wan a speculative look. “Jaro Tapal requested backup to join us here, but she was already en route. Said the Force had nudged her to head this way.”

“Who?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Masana Tide.”

“Oh. That’s…unexpected.”

“She’s indicated she’ll be watching over you while you’re on Bandomeer but, unless you ask, the Force is strident that she needs to leave you to your mission.”

Obi-Wan felt himself relaxing a little. Being on Bandomeer was difficult. He rationally knew that he wasn’t going to be grabbed and thrown in another deep sea mine in a slave collar, but he had to keep releasing that irrational fear to the Force, and it was exhausting. Having someone like Masana Tide watching over him, one of the most physically intimidating Force users he’d ever heard of was…calming.

“She shouldn’t have to do such a thing,” he found himself saying, even if he really wanted her to.

Master Ebé gave him a look. “We all follow the will of the Force, child. I dare you to say to Master Tide that she should ignore the Force in this matter.”

“Um. Perhaps not.”

“What am I missing?” Nield asked.

“Masana Tide is Dowutin,” Master Soren supplied.

Nield frowned. “That’s the species that keeps growing, right?”

“Yes. Master Tide is about 2.8 meters in height and significantly larger than anyone else in the Order. She’s very imposing physically. Certainly, she’s the best possible escort as you venture into Bandor. Though I am also willing to go with you. Masana doesn’t have the appearance of a typical Jedi the way I do. Tholme and Masana would be less noticeable as your escorts. I fear it’s been many years since I’ve pretended to be anything but a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan smiled up at him, grateful for Master Soren’s soothing presence.

“I could also accompany you,” Tholme offered.

“We’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said, trying to be reassuring. “We weren’t expecting an escort.”

Tholme crossed his arms. “Really? I know you’re here as planetary leaders, but you thought we’d just send the two of you off by yourself on this planet? This may be a Republic planet, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. Also, it was just revealed to me who you’re meeting because they commed shortly before Master Tide. They’ve been granted a docking berth and will be landing in the spaceport in Bandor within the hour.” His expression was unimpressed. “They have two escort ships that are remaining in orbit.”

Quin frowned. “Who arrived?” He looked over the com log, and his eyes widened. “Wow. Well, now I know why you kept this to yourself.” He started to laugh. “You never do anything halfway, Obes.”

***

“How is it being here?” Master Soren asked him softly.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “I’m not eager for a tour of the mines,” he said with a weak smile.

“Obi-Wan,” Master Soren said chidingly.

“I would certainly have rather met somewhere else, but I suppose we all have to meet our past in due time.”

“And you think this was your due time? Have you ever discussed what happened here with anyone who wasn’t me?”

“Quin knows, and so does Nield.” He figured Master Soren had filled in the other adults about Obi-Wan being kidnapped from the AgriCorps base here by Jinn’s psychotic, fallen former padawan Xanatos. Xanatos put a force-suppressing slave collar around his neck and dumped him in a deep sea mine. It wasn’t one of his better memories.

“Which certainly explains Quinlan’s hovering. Nield…?”

“Nield’s used to seeing me in stressful situations, so he’s watchful but not as concerned.”

“All right.” He gently pinched Obi-Wan’s chin, an expression of affection on his face and laced throughout his Force presence. “I’ll admit I’m between the two of them. I’ll opt for concerned but watchful. I need you to let me know if you start experiencing distress.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I promise.”

“Good. Now, go. They’re waiting for you.”

He ran into Quinlan as soon as he exited the quarters he shared with Master Soren. They fell in step with one another easily and began walking to meet with Nield to exit the ship.

“Are you sure about this?” Quinlan asked, his Force presence laced with concern.

Obi-Wan nodded. “We can’t exactly do this with a whole bunch of Jedi. We weren’t given a choice about Master Tide, but we can’t take you with us.” He leaned heavily into Quin’s arm. “We’ll be fine. The Force says so. This is the right path for us.”

“For the Young, you mean?” There was no inflection in Quin’s question.

“Yes. Whatever else I am, I’ll always be Young.” They entered the cargo bay, where everyone was waiting with the exit ramp already lowered. Master Ebé had already departed to meet with the AgriCorps master for this outpost.

Quin smiled faintly and nodded. “May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“And with you, my friend.” Obi-Wan squeezed Quin’s gloved hands, then turned to join Nield at the ship’s exit ramp. He flipped his hood up over his hair. Nield was wearing typical spacer clothes, and his blades and blasters were obvious—at least, some of them were. Obi-Wan knew Nield always had more weapons hidden on his person.

They’d landed at the special modular landing pad reserved for AgriCorps since their cover was an official visit by the head of their branch of the Order. Bandor wasn’t far, and Masana Tide was going to escort them to the Bandor spaceport where their meeting was to take place since they couldn’t exactly have this meeting in a cantina.

Master Tide gave them a thorough once-over. She looked nothing like a typical Jedi, and her lightsaber wasn’t in sight, though he could sense the two kyber crystals on her upper back.

She was huge, but it wasn’t even her physical presence. She was larger than life in the Force, and something about her Force presence made Obi-Wan relax in ways he hadn’t in a long time.

“Governor Nield,” she nodded to Nield first, then pointedly looked to Obi-Wan. “Deputy Governor Ken—”

“Ben,” Nield supplied.

“Deputy Governor Ben,” she conceded. “I am Jedi Master Masana Tide. I will be escorting you at all times when you are not in your meeting. The speeder ride into the Bandor spaceport is approximately fifteen minutes, and we will discuss, in detail, security protocols and how you will respond to an extraction.”

Nield raised an eyebrow but simply dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Yes, Master Tide,” Obi-Wan replied. “We’ll follow your guidance.”

“Kiddo, if you were following my guidance, you wouldn’t be meeting in their ship, but the Force is calm about your choice, so I’m going to go with it. Nevertheless, there will be backup plans, and you will comply with all security measures.”

“Of course.”

With a sharp nod, she led them to the airspeeder she’d arranged for that could accommodate her large frame.

During the relatively short trip to the Bandor spaceport, she fulfilled her promise to go over her security protocols and how she expected them to react if she called for an extraction. There was a plan A, a plan B, a plan C, and a plan K. He exchanged an amused look with Nield since they could both guess what the K stood for, since it was the plan of last resort—and most firepower.

When they arrived at the berthing assigned to the distinctive AIAT/i at the edge of the spaceport, Obi-Wan could tell Nield was taking stock of the security presence around the ship. The posture of the watchers might be casual, but there was no doubt they were paying sharp attention, especially to Master Tide.

She hopped out of the speeder, with incredible grace for her size, but still causing a deep thud when she landed, then gave the two of them a speaking look. “Normally, I’d go in first, assess the situation, and make some colorful threats about peeling this ship like a tin can if anything happens to either of you, but it’s been made clear that this is your mission.” She met Obi-Wan’s gaze squarely. “I’m here if you need me.”

He inclined his head in gratitude, knowing she’d feel him call out in the Force if there were a problem. There was also no doubt that the watchers had heard her implicit threat to the ship if anything happened to Nield or Obi-Wan.

Nield jumped out of the speeder, and Obi-Wan followed more sedately. They walked side-by-side to the ship, elbows touching.

The ramp of the AIAT lowered, and Obi-Wan nodded at the obvious guards as he passed. A couple followed them up, but most stayed outside.

The Force was calm as they entered the nearly empty cargo bay of the ship. There were five obvious presences in the bay, increasing to seven with the two guards who’d followed them. One was seated alone on a crate in the middle, in the midst of reassembling a WESTAR-34 blaster that looked brand new. Its match was already gracing a holster on its owner’s thigh.

The helmeted head tilted up to look at them. “Su cuy’gar, Jetii.”

“You’re still alive, too, Mand’alor Fett,” Obi-Wan replied deadpan.

There were several snorts of amusement that came out as an odd sound through the helmeted vocoders.

With a laugh, Fett holstered his blaster, then reached up and removed his helmet, the pressure seal giving way with a slight hiss. “It loses something in translation.” The Mand’alor was probably a decade older than them, maybe a little less, but it was clear he was as hard as any Mandalorian twice his age.

“Does it? Seems pretty Mandalorian to me.”

“You speak Mando’a?”

“I could hold my own long enough to create a cultural gaffe of such immense proportions as to start a war.”

“That good, huh?” Fett smiled. “Galactic Basic it is, then.”

Obi-Wan reached up and lowered his hood, noticing how Fett’s gaze seemed to get sharper. “You won the Darksaber.”

Fett cocked his head but didn’t answer. The saber wasn’t in sight, but Obi-Wan could feel it.

Several of the Mandalorians seemed to get a bit tense at his calling out the hidden blade of such cultural significance.

“I can feel its crystal humming,” he explained. “It likes you well enough, but it would like to be cleaned, if you don’t mind.”

Fett’s eyebrows shot up, and he pulled the saber out from under his blue cape. “And how does one go about that?” The casing itself had clearly been cleaned to a high shine, but that was not the issue the crystal had with its environment.

“I won’t touch it, but shall I show you?”

Fett tilted his head in acquiescence.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, separating the casing and pulling the components apart. He let the Force guide the components in an orderly configuration onto the crate next to Fett, where his blaster pieces had been previously.

Fett eyed him, his face expressionless.

Obi-Wan reached into his tunic and removed the set of small brushes and lubricants he used to tend to his own lightsaber, offering it to one of the Mandalorians behind him.

After getting a nod from Fett, the man took the kit and turned it over to Fett after a quick inspection.

“Did you guess Silas is my second, or were you picking someone at random?”

“The Force guides me,” Obi-Wan replied, aware of Nield’s relaxed presence at his side. They’d discussed this meeting, and Nield was willing to let Obi-Wan take the meeting up to a certain point, using the Force to figure out the best way to sound out the Mandalorians.

“Jetii osik,” someone on his right muttered.

Fett sent the mumbler a sharp look.

“Osik that saved your lives, no?” Nield asked dryly. “That’s why you agreed to meet us, and even though he never said he was associated with the Jedi, you weren’t exactly surprised to see a Jedi come onto your ship.”

Fett assessed the cleaning kit and seemed to understand how to go about cleaning any weapon, so he got to work cleaning the parts of the Darksaber. He made a gesture after a moment, and a couple of crates were pushed over for them to sit on, creating a triangle.

Fett identified two components that needed replacement but kept working on the intricate cleaning of a weapon that probably hadn’t been tended to in way longer than either of them had been alive.

Finally, he said, “It’s pretty much a given that prescient visions are Force related. I use the term ‘Force-related’ loosely since any given culture might call it something else. Then you have to ask yourself who runs around offering up those visions to help those they don’t know while asking nothing in return. I can think of a couple, but they all have some connection to the Jetii.”

Fett gave them a pointed look. “Knew you were young from your voice, but thought you were older than twelve.”

“I’m almost fifteen,” Obi-Wan said with a huff.

“That’s true. Give it a minute, and he’ll be fifteen,” Nield interjected. “So don’t let him kid you—he was barely fourteen when he saved your ass.” Nield leaned back, his posture casual.

“You were there too. I couldn’t have gotten the com out without you,” Obi-Wan shot back, not letting Nield out of the credit/blame for the Mandalorian situation.

“You look about seventeen,” Fett said neutrally, most of his attention seeming to be on cleaning the Darksaber.

“Also fifteen.”

“Okay. So, I thought I had some idea what this might be, but now I don’t because you don’t ping any of my instincts as anything like a Jetii.”

“I’m not,” Nield said firmly. “I’m from Melidaan.”

“Never heard of it.” Fett looked to his right. “Myles?”

“Nothing by that name.” Myles was partially obscured from view, but he was tapping away at his vambrace. “There’s a Republic planet in the Cadavine sector called Melida/Daan.”

“That was us until a few months ago.”

“And what happened a few months ago?” Fett prompted, still appearing to be focused on his work.

“We won the war.”

“Melida/Daan,” Myles intoned, “involved in a long-standing civil war between the two planetary factions, the Melida and the Daan. It’s been going on so long that the Republic’s public archives have no record of how long, what started it, or what’s been done to try to ameliorate the situation. Generally considered a no-go zone for everyone. Pirates don’t even bother with it.”

“There was a third faction,” Nield said firmly. “The children of the Melida and the Daan came together to end the war. We succeeded. The war is over. We are called the Young.”

An unnatural stillness came over the seven Mandalorians.

Fett stopped cleaning and slowly looked up. “Who are you two exactly?”

“We’re the two surviving generals of the Young and, more importantly, the elected leaders of Melidaan.”

Fett set down the cleaning brush. “I think you should start at the beginning.”

***

They were down to only four Mandalorians. Three had to leave because they couldn’t handle their tempers. The others had removed their helmets and had pulled up crates as well.

Silas was a little older than Fett and was Fett’s second in command. Gilamar was the oldest of the group by a few years. Though he hadn’t said so, he had the vibe of a healer about him. While Fett, Silas, and Gilamar were all HON, Myles was Pantoran, and had a bubbly energy despite his outward demeanor being calm and collected.

“Let me see if I understand this,” Fett said slowly. “Your population of literal millions,” he pointed at Nield, “has been reduced to thousands because the two factions were so intent on fighting each other for no apparent reason, and the children decided to put a stop to it. Which is where you came in.” He pointed at Obi-Wan. “I’m not even going to touch on your part of the story because Mij will lose his temper, and we’ll never finish this discussion, but you were instrumental in turning the tide of the war for the actual children due to some Jetii…stuff.

“And then you got one of your visions about us and used one of your last outbound planetary coms to warn us about the trap that had been engineered for us. And in that conversation, where you warned me about Vizsla, and you were specific about Montross, and you told me about the governor, and you even told me to be wary about the Republic and how someone in the Republic was funding both Death Watch and the New Mandalorians, at no point in that conversation did you say we are an army of literal children and our parents are trying to murder us, could you please come lend us a blaster?”

Obi-Wan wrinkled up his nose and turned that question over in his mind for a few seconds, settling on, “No…?”

“I need a minute.” Fett got to his feet. “Assemble that.” He waved at the Darksaber parts. Gilamar and Silas left with Fett, leaving Myles to give them tragic looks.

Nield crossed his arms as Obi-Wan went to one knee in front of the disassembled Darksaber and reached out with the Force to bring the pieces back together.

“It was our problem to handle,” Nield said defensively.

“Was it?” Myles asked sadly. “You’d have turned away our gunships if we’d have arrived and offered them to you?”

Nield looked away, jaw muscles flexing.

“It’s not a slight, Nield. I’d hope that anyone decent who hears what you’ve been through would be horrified that you went through it at all. And if they’re not, you should know they’re not good at heart, and you shouldn’t trust them.”

Obi-Wan left the assembled Darksaber resting quiescently on the makeshift table and sat back next to Nield.

There was a long silence before Myles pinned him with a look. “Do you think what happened was okay?”

Obi-Wan glanced away. “Of course not. You know I don’t, but we haven’t even gotten to the part of what I figured out after I left.”

“You…left?” Myles sounded incredulous.

“I was grieving and…” Nield bit his lip. “I banished him.”

Myles looked shocked. “I…see.”

“You really don’t,” Obi-Wan said. “There’s so much more going on than a simple war.”

“There’s nothing simple about this situation, kid,” Fett said as he stomped back into the cargo bay with flasks, passing one to each of them. “You Jetii like tea, right? I figure shig can’t hurt.” He handed it off to Nield as well. “No idea what you drink, so you’re stuck with what he’s having.”

“Hopefully, it’s better than Jedi tea,” Nield muttered as he took a sip. “Oh, much better. I’ll take the Mandalorian version of tea from now on, Ben.”

“Ben?” Fett asked.

“The little ones struggled with Obi-Wan, so I’m known as Ben amongst our people.”

“And which do you prefer?” Fett asked.

“Uh.” He considered, feeling a spike of curiosity from Nield. “You can call me Ben.”

Nield felt satisfied with that answer, so Obi-Wan was glad he’d made that choice. He figured he was approaching the Mandalorians as a member of the Melidaan, not as a Jedi, so the distinction seemed important.

The others joined them, all with drinks now, and Fett looked over the Darksaber, a sour expression on his face. “Why does it feel better?”

“It is a semi-sentient weapon that’s very old, and it’s pleased to be with you. I’m not sure how that translates to what you’re getting from it.”

“What do I need to do with it?” Fett stared at it skeptically.

“Clean it occasionally. Seriously, you need to learn to use it properly and then actually use it.”

Fett’s expression wasn’t pleased, but he reached under his cape and clipped the saber away out of sight. He gestured for them all to sit. “All right, tell me the worst of it. Because I gather the worst is still to come.”

***

Fett was rubbing his forehead, looking like he wished he’d never let them on his ship. “The Sith are back, and your planet was the staging point for some dark magic osik that allows them to hide their darkness from the rest of the galaxy. I’m thinking that same darkness was behind the plot to kill my people.”

The other three looked sort of blank, like they didn’t know what to think. Fett had opted not to let anyone else return to the meeting until he had a full grasp of the situation, letting everyone think this was about child soldiers looking for a consult with a mercenary company.

“That was succinct,” Nield acknowledged.

“And you figured it out.” Fett pointed at Obi-Wan.

“The Force showed me that just because the war was won didn’t mean the threat was past. Pirates and slavers would eventually be sent for the planet. Whether to finish the spell or for spite, I don’t even know.”

“So, you got the Jetii involved, but they’ve determined the planet isn’t livable.”

“It’s not right now.”

“And that was the point at which you jumped on a ship and came across the galaxy to meet with me. If you were anyone sensible, I’d think you wanted to find a safe place for your seven thousand children, and Mandalore would take you—that I can promise you—but I have a feeling I’m not about to hear anything I would consider sensible from either one of you.”

Fett took a deep breath. “So, what is it that you’ve come to ask of me?”

Nield and Obi-Wan exchanged a look, and Nield replied, “We were hoping to barter for protection.”

“Protection,” Fett repeated.

“Yes. Perhaps the Mandalorians could find their way to consistently refuel and make frequent stops on our new moon.”

Fett blinked.

“You have a large mercenary company, correct? You must take jobs off that part of the Hydian; we’re right off the Triellus Trade Route. You could set up a transfer station for supply drops and refueling, and if there was a semi-consistent Mandalorian presence on-planet, it should be less appealing to pirates.”

Fett stared. And kept staring. Then he rubbed his hand over his face. “You want me to tell my people to just randomly stop by a moon to deter pirates from bothering the seven thousand war-traumatized children?”

Nield crossed his arms. “Tell me what we need to do to persuade—”

“You misunderstand me, junior. If I tell my people about this, I’m not going to be able to get them to stay off your little moon. They’re not going to be stopping by; they’re going to be figuring out ways to set up shop out there. I’ll be getting applications for a bounty hunting office that, for some reason, we must have in the Cadavine sector, and someone will insist that we need an armory out there for emergency armor repairs. Someone else will insist that every single thing a Mandalorian might need, right down to ship repairs, will need to be physically located on your moon.

“Inside of a year, there will be a Little Keldabe in the Cadavine sector, and you’ll have a thousand heavily armored mother hens clucking about you all the time.”

“Oh.”

“And what do you plan to do about these Elders?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Nield said slowly. “There is no trust between us; all the Mids are dead—”

“Mids?” Gilamar prodded.

“Officially, anyone between about twenty and thirty, but eighteen and thirty is probably more accurate.”

“All dead?” Gilamar repeated.

“Yes.”

Silas swore.

“How many of you are fourteen or older?” Gilamar asked.

“About three hundred.”

Myles made a little wounded noise.

“Over twelve?”

“Before you keep going down that rabbit hole,” Obi-Wan interjected, “Of the approximately seventy-one-hundred Young remaining, just over six thousand are under ten. Most of us over ten died in the final days of winning the war.”

Fett’s eye twitched.

Silas turned to his Mand’alor. “Jango—”

“These Elders—”

“Supposedly, they’ll get better once they’ve been off Melidaan for some amount of time.” Obi-Wan had pored over Master Ohri’s analysis, but there was a lack of conclusion about what to do with them. “But they won’t ever be well. They’ll lose their drive to fight, but what’s wrong with their minds won’t be fixed. And the Young will never trust the Elders. We think they cannot ever merge as a society again.”

“Do you think to treat them as a prison population?” Fett asked cautiously.

“No, we were thinking of settling them on one of the alternate sites and monitoring them from afar. At some point, we’ll become separate societies. We don’t want them destroyed, but if they start to recover from their urge to be at war, they deserve to live out their lives in peace. I’m not sure how much moral right we have to make choices about what happens to them once we split.”

“They’re war criminals,” Nield muttered, and Obi-Wan was long familiar with Nield’s thoughts on the Elders.

Fett nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure anyone would question your right to make the choice about what happens to them, considering they are the ones who created this situation.

“I think this is easier if they aren’t living amongst you. One option, once their minds are no longer violent, is to bring them into Mandalorian space, perhaps Concord Dawn, to create a settlement of farmers. We could watch over them. While I think it would be logistically viable, it’s something I’d have to consider because bringing three thousand adults into Mandalore would create a cost burden, especially at first, that needs careful thought. It’s possible that they would need to be monitored the rest of their lives, no?”

Obi-Wan and Nield exchanged a look, and Obi-Wan nodded in agreement that the Elders would likely need monitoring.

Fett continued, “Then a commitment would have to be made regarding the resources needed for their oversight, and we wouldn’t question the morality of overseeing them—whatever the parameters you decided upon.”

“There’s something else that might help. I told you we came to barter…” Nield nudged Obi-Wan.

“I know it’s difficult for you not to just come in and take over the situation,” Obi-Wan acknowledged, “but we’ve fought hard to be able to rebuild our society. And what we’re about to share could be instrumental in that, or it could destroy it.”

Nield took a vial of clear liquid out of his pocket and held it up to the light. “There’s one wild crop that grows on Melidaan. On the surface, it’s a type of grain, but the Elders have long known how to make a type of cheap fuel out of it. Grain-based fuels aren’t anything novel in the galaxy. Many planets have some form of local fuel source. But our Elders think they hold over our heads that they know how to make this. But we’ve long known the process; however, making the fuel keeps them busy, so…”

Obi-Wan took the vial and rolled it around, holding it up to the light. “What’s interesting about this fuel is that the Melida and the Daan were so busy fighting that they never bothered to investigate what they had. They just thought it was something they could synthesize into an easy fuel to keep their war machine running.

“In reality, you should think of it like leeti beans. AgriCorps grows more leeti beans than anything else because it’s a staple protein of the food synths; it’s easily made into other things. This is almost like a proto-fuel. The Elders thought it was garbage fuel because it’s not that combustible, so it barely worked for their speeders or as a heat source. It’s incredibly stable in its base state, but it can be easily adjusted with additives or slight chemical alterations as replacements for speeder fuel and, even more importantly to you, jetpack fuel.”

Fett leaned forward. “You can make Paralene out of that?”

“Exactly Paralene? No, of course not. But something that will function as well as, is cheaper than, and burns cleaner? Yes. And even though the process of making it suitable for jetpacks makes it less stable than it is now, it’s still more stable than Paralene.”

“What besides Paralene?” Silas asked.

“Speeder fuel, for sure. Also, most weapons. Which is infuriating, honestly.” Obi-Wan huffed. “They could have easily adapted a gaseous form of this and had a cleaner, better product than tibanna gas, but they were so busy fighting, they just chewed up their grains for badly made speeder fuel, while giving thousands tibanna gas poisoning.”

“How plentiful is this grain?”

“It grows wild on half the planet. Hundreds of millions, maybe even billions, of square acres,” Nield replied. “The yield per kilo is good. About 320 kilos of grain makes about 10 kilos of that. Our grain yield, even wild, is about five thousand kilos an acre.”

Myles coughed. “So for every acre, you can produce about 150 kilos of that?”

“Yes.”

“And you said there’s millions of acres?”

“At least.”

“Can we do some investigating with this sample?” Myles asked.

Obi-Wan tossed it to him, and he caught it easily. “I’ll com you the instructions to make the Paralene substitute. It’s a straightforward alteration.”

Fett frowned. “If this is true, you’re talking about giving us near energy independence. The barter is way out of balance. Taking in your Elders would be a fraction of what this is worth to us.”

“Um, there’s more,” Obi-Wan said slowly.

“More,” Fett repeated.

“There’s a gas this produces when it’s created that is harmful,” Nield picked up the explanation, “and the Elders made it sound like they were protecting us by keeping the process to themselves— Let me back up. We had a huge stockpile of the fuel my entire life for running the speeders and the energy plants; in my lifetime, they hadn’t been manufacturing the stuff because they were too busy fighting. We just call it grain fuel. The babbies call it grainy.

“The fighting got so intense that the stockpile of grainy ran out, and no one could focus on making more, so whoever was sending in our mystery caches of weapons and food, was also doing some fuel drops in the last few years.

“When we won the war and entered into the peace talks, we had to figure out energy independence, and thus the Elders trotted out production of grain fuel, but there’s a dangerous gaseous byproduct. It’s not huge amounts. Maybe for every liter of grainy, you’d have a milliliter of gas to dispose of. It used to be they’d shuttle it into space and vent it there.”

“Not the first time a planet has used space as its toxic waste dump,” Gilamar said dryly.

“But Ben cautioned me to store it, not ever dump it. The Republic Aid mission left us a small shuttle to repair our holonet repeater and whatnot, but even though he was gone, I chose to store the gas. So it’s been a long time since any of it has been vented into space because they hadn’t gotten around to the gas dumps the last few decades they were producing fuel.”

“Okay,” Fett drew out slowly. “Where are you going with this?”

“Because it’s been decades since we’ve vented any of this into space, it’s also been decades since any purrgils have been seen in the Cadavine sector.”

Fett blinked. “Are you seriously saying the byproduct of making this grain fuel is Clouzon-36?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re just telling me this? That you kids are sitting on the most valuable natural resource in the entire galaxy. Possibly aside from Bacta?”

“And what good does it do us if pirates kill us all?” Nield shot back.

“Why are you trusting me with this?” Fett seemed bewildered.

“Because the Force told him you could be trusted,” Nield jerked his thumb at Obi-Wan. “And I trust Ben.”

“Why not tell your Jetii?”

Obi-Wan sighed. “The Jedi who are under the rule of a corrupt Senate who do little to actually help the galaxy, and who are unknowingly sheltering a Sith? I do want to help the Jedi. I absolutely want some of this to be to their benefit; the shelters and the means to make the new colony happen are coming from the AgriCorps and ExplorCorps, but they haven’t the means with their current enslavement to the Senate to protect us from actual slavers.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that was exactly what he felt. That the Jedi, especially the Diplomacy Corps, were bordering on a chain-blind state with the Senate.

Fett pointed at Obi-Wan. “You’re really annoying when you’re making good points.”

“He really is,” Nield agreed.

“It doesn’t help that you look twelve.”

“He does not,” Nield shot back. “Quit listening to them. You’ll get taller.”

“It’s not the height; it’s the baby face.” Fett rubbed his hand over his mouth. “All right. I need to think about this. Somehow, some way, we’ll come to an agreement. Even if this fuel thing isn’t what you think it is, we’re not going to let you kids get snapped up by pirates. That said, the fuel… Well, it makes it easy to financially justify bringing all your Elders into a settlement on Concord Dawn.”

Nield shifted uneasily. “They wouldn’t be hurt, right?”

“No. If the Jetii are willing to keep them in some temporary location while their minds adjust to being off your poison planet, then we’ll get them relocated into a community. We’re used to bringing troubled beings into our midst and keeping a close eye on them. Ultimately, the decision about their treatment is up to you; if you want them to live out their lives in peace, we’ll do our best to see that happen.

“But we should break and let us all consider the different possible approaches we can take to this situation.”

“One quick question,” Silas said. “How do you intend to handle the farming if no one can be on the planet?”

“We figured we’d offer to let you all pick up all the Clouzon-36 we have stored and sell it. Keep what you need, of course. But…you know, sell the rest and buy some farm droids.”

“How much do you have?”

Nield scratched the side of his nose, looking thoughtful. “There was some that hadn’t been taken up from before I was even born, and we had to repackage it because the containers were leaking. I dunno. Maybe a thousand canisters.”

Fett made a choking noise. “And how much of this grain fuel do you have?”

“So much. It’s ridiculous. Have to keep the Elders busy doing something besides fomenting another karking rebellion. I’d told them I’d hoped to trade it for some seeds or something, but they were skeptical that anyone would want it. I keep downplaying that it has any value because I don’t want them to know that it means anything.”

“Nield has been making sure they don’t understand what they have, and their minds are so messed up from the planet that they probably just see making the fuel as a possible opportunity to make a bomb,” Obi-Wan offered. “For that matter, very few of the Young know it can be adapted into anything besides speeder fuel. Our hope is that you’ll come and take it, and most of the Young will never know. At least not for many years.”

“You’ll probably have to declare the nature of that grain a state secret, especially once you’re ready to move back to your homeworld.”

“Yes, that’s likely,” Obi-Wan said softly. He had a hunch it would never actually be safe for them to live back on that planet, but they could make plans as if it were. They might wind up with just security outposts and farms on Melidaan. The planet might become a massive Force vergence that belonged to the Melidaan and was more of a commerce and agricultural station for them rather than their population center.

“We’ll meet again tomorrow, then,” Fett said firmly, rising to his feet.

Nield stood and held out a hand to Fett. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Obi-Wan simply inclined his head to all four Mandalorians, raised his hood, and let Nield escort him back to Master Tide.

Chapter Twelve

Obi-Wan slipped into Quin’s room aboard the ship. Since Master Ebé’s ship was so close to the enrichment zone, they were staying aboard the ship rather than imposing on AgriCorps for quarters.

“Master Ebé still in the enrichment zone?” he asked, sliding onto the bunk as Quin sat up to make room for him.

“He may not actually make it back to the ship. They’re so excited to see him, and the plants are almost preening for him.” Quin nudged him with an elbow. “How’d it go?”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I think the Jedi are slaves.”

Quin made a choking sound and then had to cough several times to clear his airway. “Excuse me?” He looked to Obi-Wan, eyes watering from the coughing.

“I mean, not like someone we’d have to rescue from a Hutt type of slave, but like someone who doesn’t even realize it.”

“Obi-Wan…what the Force-forsaken hells happened?”

“Just all my thoughts about how powerless we all are to act and to help and even to move within the confines of the Order…” Obi-Wan pressed his forehead against his updrawn knees. “We exist at the whims of the Senate. Not even the Republic, Quinlan, the Senate. It’s not even about the service corps; it’s about our part of the Order. If I’d sent up a com to every master in the Order, helping me wouldn’t have actually been legal.”

“It would have been the right thing to do, though.”

“Right, yes. Right in the way that could have gotten someone arrested. At the least, the Senate or Judicial could have demanded your or whoever’s expulsion from the Order as punishment for defying their rules. I don’t know how to live with that—how to function like that.”

“Some masters get around it.”

“Yeah, by just not going to the temple. The weird exceptions made for the wandering Jedi. Or the Jedi who have long-term charters like Master Tide or Master Tapal; they have more freedom of movement, but even Master Tapal and Master Tide couldn’t have interfered on Melida/Daan. Jon Antilles or the Dark Woman could have, but who knows where they even are? And who knows if they’re the sort to actually help.”

He sighed and pressed his cheek against his knee. “If we can’t even stop a four-year-old from being publicly executed by their own parents as an object lesson to stop their other children from joining the opposing faction in the war, what freedom do we really have to actually help others in this galaxy?”

Quinlan made a wounded noise. Obi-Wan sat up straight and looked at him, finding his friend’s eyes filling with tears. “Obi-Wan, tell me that didn’t…”

A second later, Master Tholme was there, pulling Quinlan into his arms. “What happened?”

Obi-Wan realized his own eyes were filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I said something callous, and I didn’t mean to hurt him. I— I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.” He started to get up, but Master Tholme took hold of his arm and kept him in place.

“Just tell me, Obi-Wan.”

Haltingly, he repeated what he’d said and his conclusion about it. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Come here, Obi-Wan. There’s enough of me to hold both of you.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t relax into the hold until he felt Quinlan grab onto him too.

A few moments later, Master Soren was there, pulling Obi-Wan into his arms, and Obi-Wan felt some sort of dam break. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he sobbed.

“Shh, Obi-Wan. It’s not your fault.”

“So many died, and-and I couldn’t help. I couldn’t save them!” He pressed his face into Master Soren’s shoulder and let himself experience the heartbreak.

Master Soren’s hands rubbed up and down his back. “Let it out, child. It should never have been your burden to bear.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so-so-sorry.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” was whispered against his temple. “It’ll be all right, Obi-Wan. I’ll help you; I swear it.” A soothing presence pressed against his mind, and he latched onto it, letting Soren’s calming energy fill his very being. “Just rest, child. Rest.”

***

Rin considered the plan Master Yaddle had come up with, trying to pick holes in it, but quite unable to. Yaddle was the Master of Shadows for a reason, and Rin might be in command of the Exploration Corps and a damn good fighter pilot, but she had nothing on Yaddle’s strategic mind.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Yaddle observed.

“I can’t help it,” Rin admitted. “This whole planet is terrible, and I officially have to kick all of the Jedi knights off of it for appearance’s sake.”

“We must not draw the attention of Judicial. What you, Thee, Reloth, and Lodha do is up to you as you are not beholden to the Senate. When the time is right, we’ll file a report that the Melidaan requested aid in relocating to a new moon with better prospects for agriculture until the land here recovers. The service branches came to their aid, and AgriCorps is working on the main planet’s recovery so the native population can return to their home as soon as it’s feasible.

“We cannot risk breaking the spells on this planet until everyone is evacuated, so our work cannot commence in earnest until the evacuation is complete.”

“What will you do?” Rin asked.

“Plan. Prepare. Jaro is assembling his team. I will create false missions for them in sectors close enough that they can get here. Several shadows will be assigned to the new moon as a temporary base. At a start, Tholme and Feemor Starr.”

Rin blinked. “I didn’t know Jinn’s renounced padawan was one of yours now.”

“Yes, I took him in, though it’s a closely guarded secret. It will be good for Feemor to work on this task. They’ll slip into life on the new settlement, and we’ll slowly phase them out of life at the temple. Either transition them into wandering Jedi or assign them to Corellia.”

“And the plan for the planet itself? And that creepy tree, not to mention the tree’s…fuel source?”

“Unfortunately, the consensus is the Sith acolyte will have to be executed. There is no way to save him, and the nature of the spells are tethered to his twisted life force. They’re not dependent on him, but we can’t break them until he’s gone. The barrier spell is simply masking his presence.”

Rin wasn’t surprised, but she always hoped for better. “And who has that unfortunate task.”

“I was going to, but Jaro insists it should be him.”

Rin wasn’t surprised by that either. “This would all be easier if Lodha hadn’t run away with the governor.”

Yaddle smiled. “It’d make very little difference if they were here. The only major decision is what to do with the villages of Elders, and the encrypted com from Ebé was clear that they won’t occupy the same planetary space any longer, so that secondary moon Dagher found will have to suffice for them. We wouldn’t be able to move them before Ebé’s return anyway. The children are the priority.”

Yaddle placed a hand on Rin’s arm. “Tell me how you’re doing besides being sour that Lodha ran off with Kenobi.”

“It’s not about—” She broke off at Yaddle’s expression. “Okay, maybe it is. My protective instincts got a little riled up.” She rubbed her upper arms. “This is one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced, and I didn’t really experience it; it’s just the wretched aftermath.”

“The galaxy is a terrible place at times.” Yaddle frowned. “I wonder if it’s terrible most of the time.”

Rin knew Yaddle would know better than most. “When will you leave?”

“Soon. You have more staff from the corps arriving by the day, especially from the AgriCorps and ExplorCorps. Reloth is going to do the bulk of the medical evaluations on the new planet, I believe.”

Rin nodded. “She wants to limit exposure to this planet, and feels any exams conducted here would have to be redone anyway. As for Thee… They’re working with the Minister for Education, who is all of eleven years old, to design a curriculum that will get them closer to galactic standards. Additionally, they’re setting up a skill-training program. They’ll source experts to come train the children in whatever they wish to learn.”

Yaddle nodded slowly. “There was an odd, encrypted message from Tholme that some of the roles in terms of training or protection might be filled by an unexpected source. Do you know what he means by that?”

“No, but I gather from a similar message from Lodha that the governors are up to something that we’re going to have to make allowances for.”

Cocking her head to the side. “The Force feels pleased about it, I think.”

“My experience of the Force is a little different than yours, and all I get here is…” She made a face. “This place is terrible.”

Yaddle patted her arm again. “Would you like to meditate again, my dear?”

If Lodha were around, she’d be looking for a trip off-planet to get laid and get this planet out of her head, but meditation wasn’t a half-bad idea. “That would be appreciated. Thank you, Master Yaddle.”

***

Rin’s flagship, The Wild Dream, was on the other side of the galaxy, near Wild Space, and currently on a mission monitoring the expansion of a star cluster, and it would remain so for the foreseeable future. It was essentially a permanent, if moveable, home base for ExplorCorps, much the way Taanab was a permanent headquarters for AgriCorps. It was a fuel-consuming ship to move across the galaxy for anything other than a long-term reassignment.

She’d summoned as many of her smaller ships that could help with the transitions as possible. When she had to travel, she tended to travel on the Guiding Star, and since she’d brought most of the Jedi Council to Melidaan on that ship, she should probably be polite and let them take it back to Coruscant, but she didn’t particularly want to send them off with her second favorite ship.

“Admiral,” Vex said over her com, “The Excursionist has just arrived in orbit over the planet. I believe it’s the remedy to your problem. It’s not such a large ship that it will be missed in the evacuation, but it’s certainly large enough for the Diplomacy Corps members who need to return to Coruscant.”

“Oh, Excellent. Have the captain transfer crew and mission parameters temporarily to the Guiding Star and prepare to escort the DipCorps back home. Wait. Is Fraser in command?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Force help us all. We need someone actually diplomatic to escort the council back. Have Fraser take command of the Guiding Star until Kannity can return from Coruscant with his ship.”

“As you wish, Admiral. Master Dooku has requested an audience. He’s on his way to the ship.”

“Very well.” The Guiding Star was too large to easily land on a planet without a proper landing pad, so it remained in orbit. Rin and the other Jedi on-planet were maintaining quarters on the smaller ships they’d set down in various spots around Zehava city. Dooku had been staying on Jaro Tapal’s ship, which he’d brought down from the Guiding Star. The entire team working on the Sith/Creepy Tree problem were staying together and were the farthest from Zehava in deference to the comfort of the children.

Dooku arrived several minutes later with a serene mien, as always. She expected him to take a seat, but instead, he remained standing. “Yoda has announced his intention to remain.”

She set her datapad down and leaned back. “Oh?”

“I’m unsure if this is sentiment or wisdom at play.”

“What concerns you, Master Dooku?”

“He’s very fixated on this one child, and he rather abruptly decided not to return to Coruscant. It’s best for the cover if he leaves with us. Most will be returning in due time under some pretext or the other.”

“And what did he say when you voiced your concerns?”

“That this is where he needs to be.”

“I assume he means with the children and not here on this planet because we need to get Yoda off the planet soon. We’re going to start the evacuation of the children tomorrow.”

“I’m aware, and he means to remain with the Melidaan. The young ones, that is.”

“Are you concerned about attachment?”

“I’m concerned he’s feeling guilt.”

“Mm.” She turned that over in her head for a moment, trying to figure out how to address his concerns. “We approach these things differently, you know. I understand your worries, and I don’t make light of them, but we don’t teach releasing your emotions to the Force.”

One eyebrow went up.

“We share our burdens with the Force, and we try to release dangerous emotions that lead to the dark side, but we have to work through the source of those emotions in order to come out healthier on the other side.”

He frowned, looking displeased by her answer.

“I haven’t seen Yoda in a couple of days, but if he’s working through something, he may need to just go through it.”

“He’s not actually responsible for what happened here.”

“No, of course not. He didn’t cause these people to fight, nor did he start their war. He didn’t make them a target of the Sith. But you can’t disregard the mistakes he made that led to the situation with Kenobi. He had a hand in that; he had a hand in the situation with Qui-Gon Jinn and Kenobi. I don’t ascribe fault or blame because that’s not for me to decide. At least, not at this juncture. But Yoda has had to come face-to-face with what a child in his care had to go through because of his choices. Maybe his decision to stay is about Kenobi and his need to work through that, or maybe it’s about the children here and trying to help them find the light again. Or maybe it’s about his own relationship with the Force.

“The question is, Master Dooku, what does he say when you ask him about this?”

Dooku looked frustrated. “That the Force works in mysterious ways.”

Rin laughed. “He’s such a little troll. Listen, I don’t pretend to understand the issues in your lineage. You all seem to pretend not to care about one another while obviously caring deeply about one another. I am fully willing to admit that I care about Yoda, and Lodha Ebé certainly cares about him. We’re not going to let him flounder in guilt and make poor choices as a result. Reloth Kan is right here keeping an eye on him.”

Dooku huffed, seeming unsatisfied. “He should get off this world. That site is going to affect him and Yaddle, whether they can feel it or not.”

“He’ll go with one of the early waves of children,” she assured. “We’ll take care of him. You have my word.”

Looking tense and unhappy, Dooku nodded and left, his cape swirling behind him.

***

Rin entered one of the small private rooms in the medical wing of the crèche.

The Melidaan called it the crèche, but it was one of several communal living buildings for the children that had been repurposed from something else. She had no idea what the building used to be, but it had been gutted and repaired inside, even as the outside still showed scores from laser cannons and frag grenades.

Yoda was sitting on the bed, humming softly to a small child—a little girl—who was sleeping deeply, her leg heavily bandaged from a surgery Reloth had done yesterday.

Rin didn’t want to risk waking the child, but Yoda waved her in.

“Help her to sleep, I am. Wake, she will not. Sit.”

Rin took the only chair, which was somewhat too small for her frame but not awful. “Who is she?”

“Crin. Two-and-a-half-years-old she is.”

“What’s wrong with her leg?”

“Nerve damage from shrapnel wounds there was. Republic Mission healers, the minimum they do. Fix it, they did not.”

“Shrapnel wounds,” Rin repeated, feeling tired.

“Keep her leg, she will. Walk normally someday.”

“That’s good.” Rin watched Yoda carefully, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Right, you were.”

“Was I?”

“Good it is to remember how we can help.”

“Yoda…” Rin blew out a breath. “You’re not staying here because you feel guilty, are you?”

He was silent for a long time, still holding Crin’s hand and humming. “Guilt, I feel. Keeping me here, it is not. Too easy it is to forget the suffering of others while staying in the temple. Too easy to fight politicians and not fight true evil.” He finally met her gaze. “Tell the Judicial I come here to take the Convocation to task for too much involvement in Melidaan. Then, step down from the council, I will. Senate will think disappeared my ship has.”

“You’re faking your own death?”

He shrugged. “Arranging my own misplacement.”

“Yoda.” She huffed. “We still need your wisdom.”

“Provide it to those who come, I can.” He paused. “If they wish it.” He reached out his little clawed hand and poked her with one claw. “A good grandmaster Tyvokka will be. Cannot be Yaddle for reasons you have guessed but should not say.”

She nodded her head. “So, you’re going to stay and generally be a thorn in my side?”

“New job: chief babysitter.”

Rin laughed. “I think the Force approves.”

Yoda smiled.

***

Obi-Wan woke cuddled between two warm bodies; it wasn’t unfamiliar, as they often slept cuddled close on Melida/Daan, but he’d had months to get used to sleeping alone again. Still, both presences were familiar in the Force. He had Quinlan at his front and Nield at his back.

Though the two had been better than civil towards one another on the journey, he wouldn’t call them friends.

It was definitely Nield’s hand stroking over his hair, though it was Quinlan peering at him with concern. “How do you feel?”

“Rested,” Obi-Wan whispered. “I’m sorry, Quin—”

“No, Obi,” Quinlan interrupted, sounding worn out. He hugged Obi-Wan close, not even seeming to pay attention to whether he was hugging Nield too. “You have nothing to apologize for. You hit me with a reality that I know but don’t want to think about. The work we do—me and Master Tholme—I need to believe we can really make a difference, but if we’re hamstringed by the Senate, it’s hard to know how to go forward.”

“Quin,” Obi-Wan whispered, keenly aware of Nield’s silence, but his steady presence at Obi-Wan’s back felt like support. “I wasn’t trying to shake your faith.”

“I need reality more than I need my illusions, Obi. I can’t function like this.”

“What’d Master Tholme say?”

“He’s working on it. I’m not sure I have faith in our branch of the Order anymore, but I do believe in my Master. I believe in individuals even if I don’t believe in our bureaucracy.”

“How’s that going to work?”

“You tell me,” Quin said with a sad smile. “You’re the Pathfinder, right?”

“Quin… I haven’t—”

“Just look.”

Obi-Wan blinked and almost couldn’t stop himself from letting his mind open up to the Force, looking into Quin’s choices, and seeing where they might lead.

Suddenly, there was a familiar whisper in his ear… Nield.

“Limit how you see, Ben. Quinlan must touch so many things, and there are so many options for him; just look at the likely paths from here.” The soothing hand kept stroking his hair. “Don’t look too far.”

Quinlan had the potential to touch so much, but Obi-Wan listened to the gentle whispers and veered away from the unlikely paths…

“Oh. I think you’re coming with us.” He blinked until things came back into focus. “Did they tell you?”

Quinlan looked surprised. “Tell me what?”

“I’m seeing a small satellite temple on… Nield, why would we name the new moon Evaarla?”

“Evaar’la is the Mando’a word for Young, Obi. I was thinking about it last night. I think we’re going to be deeply entrenched with the Mandalorians for a long time, and no matter what we once were, we always refer to ourselves as Young. The Elders are going to no longer be part of us, and our new legacy is going to be what we built together. No more Melida, no more Daan. Just the Young.”

“You’ll have to avoid anyone thinking you’re a colony of Mandalore,” Quin said, tone musing.

“We’re allowed to hire anyone we want for protection. What it actually is underneath is no one’s business.” Nield’s tone was firm, the voice of a leader.

Quin smirked over Obi-Wan’s head at Nield. “So, I’ll be on Evaarla, huh?”

Obi-Wan glanced at Nield, whose expression was hard to read, but he seemed content in the Force.

“I’ve always believed in you, Ben,” Nield said firmly, gently. “Whether you’re with us full time or whether we’re where you come home to.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile just for Nield before he focused back on Quin. “That’s the likely path, yes. You and several others will be based out of that sector.”

Quin pressed his forehead to Obi-Wan’s. “Good. Even if we have to stop doing some missions because we can’t get funding, I need a clear conscience, Obes.”

“The funding will work itself out,” Nield said calmly. “Just have patience.”

“Not my strong suit, but I can do it if I feel like I can do what the Force intended.” He gently knocked foreheads with Obi-Wan. “Anything else I should know?”

Obi-Wan decided knowing too much was never good for anyone. He didn’t mention that he’d seen the most likely path for Quinlan, which was bonding with Jango Fett a couple of years after Quinlan was knighted. That the proper succession on Kiffu would be restored and Kiffu would become a protectorate of Mandalore. Fett was nine years older than Quinlan, but they wouldn’t even meet until Quin was over twenty, and the age difference would be seen as an asset on Kiffu.

His mind began to drift, and he saw a path to the rise of a new Mandalorian Empire with Jango Fett and Quinlan Vos leading it. A good empire where planets flocked voluntarily to join because of the protection from slavers and pirates, and even from the Republic’s apathy.

“Obi? Where’d you go?” Quinlan tapped his cheek. “The Force feels weird around you. Come on, don’t do whatever it is that you’re doing. Don’t make me get Master Tholme when we’re supposed to be resting in here.”

“He’s looking too deep. Ben!” Nield said sharply before tugging at his hair. “Is Runi going to get a better prosthetic?”

His vision abruptly shifted. “Yes, of course. Oh.” He bit his lip to keep from voicing anything about that possible path, then sighed at what the future probably held for Runi. Not bad, but probably vexing to Nield. He knew he needed to let the future play out how it would. All he could do at any moment was do his best and act with integrity.

He blinked a few times and focused on Quinlan in front of him, frowning with worry. Nield was now looming over him, his brow creased in concern. “I’m okay. I just drifted too far. Sorry.”

Nield’s gaze was intense, keeping Obi-Wan’s focus locked. “Stay here now, okay? No more seeing.”

“I’m here; I promise.”

“Good.” Nield squeezed the back of his neck, then somehow managed to gracefully climb over both Obi-Wan and Quinlan. “I’ll let Soren know you’re awake.”

“Quin—” He halted his speech when Quin covered his mouth.

“No, Obi. You’re gearing up to apologize again. Everything is good. We’re good. You need to start letting out some of this poison; no one holds anything against you.”

“I’m not supposed to be holding on to any of this,” he whispered.

“And how were you supposed to process any of it without the support of your master? You were doing the best you could with a mind healer, but Master Soren knows as well as anyone that the lack of bond and lack of ability to meditate properly is making it harder for you to process your experiences. Give yourself a little of the grace you give to everyone else, all right?”

“I’ll try.”

Quin rolled to a seated position. “Come on. I think they’re finally going to have you meditate with Master Ebé, and I know Master Tide wants to talk to you.”

“Is she here?”

“She came aboard the ship a little while ago.”

Obi-Wan blew out a breath. “Does it bother you that we aren’t telling you what we’re up to with the Mandalorians?”

“Not really. I can’t say I’m not curious, but I also recognize that it’s about Nield’s position as a planetary leader. I talked to Master about it, and I think I’m compartmentalizing my lack of knowledge well enough.”

“We’re bartering with them for protection while the Young re-establish themselves.”

Quinlan cocked his head to the side. “That makes a lot of sense. Will it work?”

“It’s likely going to be a case of getting more protection than we want but, yes, it will work.”

“Then good. No matter what the holonet might say, I’ve never had a problem with any Mandalorian I’ve encountered in the field. At least, not anyone wearing Fett’s mythosaur.”

“They’re good people, I think. There are factions who are a problem, but the same could be said for any group, right?”

“True. I know they still have some internal conflicts, despite a lot of their issues dying down after Fett killed Vizsla, but they try to keep a lot of their information out of the Republic’s hands. The head of their other faction does speak to the Senate at times, but I’ve heard it really pisses Fett off when Kryze makes nice with the Republic.”

“I imagine it would, but he’s going to have to figure out how to get along with that particular group, and Kryze is fully aware that trade agreements with Republic planets are vital to their survival. They’ll do better to figure out how to work together than be at odds all the time.”

“And maybe they need a diplomat,” Quin said with a grin.

“No,” Obi-Wan said as he rolled to a seated position. “Keeping peace for the Evaarlans will keep me plenty busy.”

“That came out really naturally.”

“I guess it did. I should confirm that with Nield. He was already thinking it, but I want to be sure before it settles more in my brain.”

“It resonates in the Force. Did you notice?”

Obi-Wan hesitated. “I noticed.”

Quinlan gave him a shove. “Go meet with whoever it is who desperately needs to talk to you next.”

---