Betrayal - Chapter 39

Jedi Business

Flying back to the Temple was a quiet affair. Kenobi and Jinn sat close together, the Bendu almost solicitous of his former padawan but there were no words exchanged, no hurried whispers. Sle'fey supposed that it was likely due to the hulking guards on either side of them.

He was not particularly happy about that aspect of their ride back, either. His own guard, that damnable pushy Lieutenant who had given Amidala so much trouble, was following him like a Toydarian blood-leech. He didn't think it would be easy to lose him but lose him he must. He needed to coordinate the Jedi Order's responses to whatever the Senate threw at them and a Republic guard following him around would be inconvenient at the very least and potentially damaging to the Order if the Senate got wind of Sle'fey's plans before he could finalize them.

There was quite a delegation when they arrived. Outsiders might think the Jedi stoic or even disinterested in mundane matters but Sle'fey knew better. Under the deceptive calm, they were intensely nosy, had to be in order to protect themselves over the last ten years. The Jedi had always had an innate curiosity but it had reached a fever pitch when there were constant threats of dismissal. One might call it paranoia; others might see it as protection. But in any case, the beings at the Temple knew something was up.    

Sle'fey limped off the shuttle with his guard, that massive irritant, trailing behind him. Healer Leabe was right there, already clucking at the mess on his fur, the strips of cooked flesh, the matted blood. He was sure the man would have made him go to the Healer's hall, Councilor or no Councilor, if Leabe hadn't spotted Jinn and Kenobi and hurried over to them, complaining the whole time. At least his departure gave Sle'fey time to edge away.   

He was not going to be diverted, not by Healer Leabe, not by anyone.

Sending laser-bolt glares across the room to show his displeasure at such a crowd of onlookers, they were already beginning to disperse when NeTa Phen appeared. Sle'fey shook his head. There could be no discussion of what had happened and what would come next with that guard following him, spying on his every move.

Master Phen must have sensed the problem because she only nodded and fell into step beside him.

As they made their way slowly toward the turbolift, Sle'fey said, "Until circumstances become clearer, Lieutenant Obrim will be attending me as per Senate requirements. Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi are being sent back to the Healer's hall. They have extensive physical damage that may need reconstruction, perhaps bacta therapy as well but they also have guards attending them. Since the security officers will be staying at the Temple for an extended period, perhaps you could find suitable accommodations for our Republic guests."

The hulking annoyance grunted a bit. "Master Jedi, I will not remain here indefinitely. When my shift is up, a new guard will replace me and this will continue until such time as the Senate investigation is complete."

"And how long will that be?" Sle'fey had better things to do than deal with fools but he kept his voice composed.

Obrim had no such compunction. Moving in front of the Jedi, he put up one hand to stop them both, the other tightening on his blaster. "If it were up to me, you'd be under arrest and in a detention cell, not here. However, since Senator Amidala has directed me to make sure you are available for questioning by the Senate when they convene and the Judiciary liaison has insisted that we keep you under close watch until then, I will follow my orders until such time as they are changed."

"We all have our duties, Lieutenant. Don't interfere in Jedi business." Sle'fey just stared, waiting for him to move out of the way.

With a shrug, the guard stepped to one side, gesturing for them to proceed. "Of course. As long as it does not interfere with the investigation."

"Of course." And the Jedi swept past him, pulling him along in their wake.

*********************

The Council chamber echoed unpleasantly, dusty corners now filled with emptiness. There was a hollowness in the room, almost bitter, as if the final dregs of a lost glory were contained there, now stale and useless. It would appear that even nature was mocking them; as Sle'fey entered, a warm shaft of light spilled across the floor, edging the broken tiles in sunset gold.

Something caught in his throat. So much loss, so much darkness, and it wasn't over. The Senate would likely try to destroy the Order, using Palpatine's death as an excuse. But he would be damned if he was going to lead the Jedi into extinction.

Tion Medza, head of Procurement and now one of three remaining Jedi Council members out of the original nine slipped into the chamber, looked at Obrim, and stopped. Sle'fey motioned him in as the door swung shut.

"Republic guards will remain at the Temple until things can be straightened out. Apparently, Lieutenant Obrim here...." He sent a disdainful glance toward the man, and then with a curl of his muzzle, looked away again. "And some in power believe that I might have had something to do with Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's death." 

Both of the other Jedi looked shaken but Sle'fey just continued, his voice hard and flat, "It was self-defense. It would seem that the beloved Chancellor of the Republic laid a trap for us. Many are dead, including most of the Jedi who accompanied us to the Senate as well as several Senators and their aides."

He walked over and placed both paws on the back of his old friend's chair, curling his claws into the fabric. Looking down at the scratched duraplast, remembering the arguments and deceptions they'd had to play, he remembered, too, how much they tried to make things better, often without success, but still they tried. He said softly, "Master Xacor is dead."

Medza and Phen looked at each other, both of them clearly upset by the news. But they could not dwell on the past few hours. There would be time enough later to mourn.

"Master Sle'fey, there are matters to discuss." Phen's eyes were full of questions.

Sle'fey shook his head. They would have to be answered later, away from the prying glare of a hostile agent. Instead he straightened, letting go of Xacor's chair and hobbled over to the window. Looking out over the city, he focused his attention on the Senate building in the distance. "At the moment, the Republic is in flux. They will have to replace Palpatine and it may take some time. In addition, there is an ongoing investigation into this incident. While Lieutenant Obrim has made assumptions which are not true, I can't help but believe that others will jump to the same conclusions."  

Looking back toward his remaining, his only supporters, he wanted to alert them to the potential for disaster. "There may be a call for blood. We will need to be prepared for such an event." It would not have been the first time the Temple was under siege; the building was made to withstand fire, flood, riots, and rocket attacks. Hopefully, it would not be necessary but they had to be ready for anything.

Of course, Obrim protested the insinuation. Puffing out his chest, he looked thoroughly insulted, looked as if Sle'fey had called his honor into question. "Master Jedi, the Senate will protect the innocent."

"You believe me guilty." Fur whirling in disbelief, he stared back at him. "I have to wonder how well you would try and protect me or the other Jedi in this complex if we were under attack by Republic citizens."  

If looks could kill, Sle'fey would be dead a thousand times over. Obrim snarled back, "I would protect you with my life, Jedi."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." He didn't believe the Republic guard for an instant. But he needed to remain calm, needed to keep his focus; he needed the man out of earshot and hopefully unable to discover what he was planning. "Lieutenant, there are some issues that I wish to discuss with the other Councilors. Jedi business." He made it sound as if it was nothing, that Obrim need not worry about such minor things, that he might leave them alone for a time. While he was talking, he pushed into the Force, sending a strong suggestion of cooperation toward the man. "For that, we need privacy. There is an antechamber you can use until we are done. If you would…."

Stubborn and obviously not weak-minded, Obrim just shrugged it off, glaring at the Jedi as he did. "My orders are clear. I and my replacements are to remain with you at all times. If you wish to discuss Jedi matters, you can do so in my presence."

Sle'fey pulled his muzzle back in a snarl. "And will you watch over me while I use the 'fresher, too?"

"The Senate is being very generous in letting you roam free as it is." Obrim shrugged, stubborn and thoroughly sure of himself. "It was that or I could escort you to a detention cell. Your choice."

For a long moment, hostility lay heavy in the air. Sle'fey stared at the man and weighed his options, none of which were entirely free of problems. It might be enough to discuss Jedi issues in general terms without giving anything away. Or perhaps it would be better to wait until Obrim was replaced; the next guard might be less hostile or more receptive to mind manipulation. Unfortunately, he had little time and there was still much to do.

A slight sniff of disdain – he would not give the Republic fool the satisfaction of surrender and he turned toward Tion Medza. "How are our guests doing?"

Master Medza might be a Corellian and reckless at times but he could be as devious as a Bothan when called upon. It was clear that he knew just what not to say about Tharten's associates in front of Obrim; instead he couched his reply with consummate skill, smiling, saying brightly, "All bedded down for the night, Master. Some of them have asked to see you tomorrow, to make amends for not being here to greet you when you returned."

Make amends indeed. It would seem that a detention cell had had a sobering effect on some of the Councilors.

He was sure that Veendo or Nunb would refuse to cooperate. And even if they did, they were a lost cause, far too deeply involved in Tharten's operations for Sle'fey to consider granting them amnesty for their crimes. They deserved nothing less than the maximum penalty for all the death and destruction they'd caused over the years.  

But the others, those who had been on the Council a short time, A'Ala-Tanze, or the head of Information Resources, TaKet, might be made to see reason. He couldn't trust them, of course, but they had valuable data that he could use. For that reason alone, he'd be willing to see them. They might even reveal further treachery within the Jedi Order.

Nodding, Sle'fey tried to look as if he was mildly interested but not enough to concern a Republic agent. "Yes, well, I was detained as Lieutenant Obrim can attest. I had hoped to talk with them but it can wait."

"Some of them are quite eager to discuss old times." Medza must have made promises or else threats. But it would do the traitors some good to think about what they'd lost and what they could offer the Jedi Order when he saw them again.

"I'm sure they are." He shrugged, brushed down his fur in a way that told Medza that he'd heard and understood. And then sending a veiled glance back at Obrim, he shuffled a little away, brushing paws against the faded paint and the cracked tiles rimming the windows, pretending to be lost in thought. NeTa Phen and Medza moved with him, standing slightly back but blocking the guard's direct view of him. Sle'fey's voice softened to just above a whisper. He wasn't about to make it easy for the fool to overhear their conversation. "It is imperative that we think about replacements for the Councilors we've lost. Send me a list of nominees. I want beings who will be supportive but also willing to question. There will be no more…." he stopped, looking at them both, trying to emphasize his concern, saying carefully, "errors."

"Did you discuss the Council position with Kenobi?" He had talked with Phen and Xacor about it just before leaving for Palpatine's office and they'd thought that it had been a good idea at the time.

Now he wasn't so sure. When they returned to the Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi appeared as if he were teetering on the edge of reason. He'd seen war victims with the same empty look and although Kenobi could be an asset, he wondered if he would be strong enough for the days ahead. "Yes, he declined. However, he may change his mind. Assume he will accept and if he still refuses, we will deal with the issue then."

Obrim was edging closer, obviously trying to listen in to their conversation. Sle'fey leaned forward, out of his line of sight. "I want the nominations on my desk first thing in the morning. I already have Master Xacor's list of potential candidates. We'll reconvene by mid-afternoon and make final determinations then."

"The Senate may protest it." Phen's objection had merit. For the past several years, the Senate had had final say as to who was seated on the Council. But that was about to change.

"Indeed they may." Shrugging, already dismissing any problem with the Senate, Sle'fey turned to Master Medza. "Tion, I need you to compile Master Xacor's files on his last investigation." He curled inward, stumbling forward, pretending to affected by his wounds. As Medza caught him, Sle'fey shoved a data crystal into his hands. He didn't want Obrim hearing what he had to tell them so his voice was soft, hurried. "Here are the passcodes. I will need a complete rundown of his findings. Focus on the financial records of Tharten and our current guests. I want to know what to expect, no hidden surprises. I've had enough of those for one day."

Sle'fey pulled back, trying to give the impression that he was weakened by his injuries but still struggling to do his duty. "Thank you, Tion, but I'm quite all right," he said clearly.

"You should be in the Healer's hall, Master." Hands hovering over him, NeTa Phen looked as if she was checking to make sure he wasn't going to collapse at any second.

Medza took advantage of the scene, whispering, "A tall order. I'm not sure I can do this so quickly."

"Just do the best you can." Sle'fey shrugged them both off. There was one more thing to discuss and it didn't matter if the Republic guard heard it or not. It would be part of the investigation and he was certain that Obrim would know about it eventually. "As we suspected, Palpatine was the Sith Lord."

NeTa made a little sound of protest; Tion paled, his eyes black with worry. They had all known it on an intellectual level but to be stated as absolute truth must have been daunting to them both. In a way, Sle'fey still could not believe it.  

But it didn't matter. Palpatine, Sidious, the Dark Lord of the Sith, was dead and now they had to deal with the rest of it.

"There is still another Sith out there somewhere. Always two, a Master and an apprentice. We will need to gather a team together and try and sift through the data we do have and come up with a plan. If we are lucky, the Senate investigation may also find leads to his whereabouts." Sle'fey straightened up, his claws scratching against the cracked tiles as he pushed away from the window."We can't let the Sith rise again. It would be disastrous for the galaxy."

The Republic fool was right there, protesting his ignorance. "You can't be serious. A Sith? That is a legend, nothing more."

"Lieutenant Obrim, since Supreme Chancellor Palpatine admitted that he was Darth Sidious in front of witnesses and then killed several people with a red lightsaber, I think it's gone beyond legend, don't you?" Sle'fey tried and failed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Do you have proof?" The man was livid, flushed with disbelief.

"The lightsaber is still there. If the Force is with us, the recording devices in his office will confirm all that I have said. And prove that the Jedi were innocent of murder." Sle'fey turned away from him, deliberately snubbing the guard. He'd had enough of fools. "Any other questions?"

NeTa Phen's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She must have been just as annoyed with the blustering Obrim as he was. "Are you going to get those wounds taken care of?"

He nodded at the sharp concern. It had been a long day and he had to admit that he was in pain and beyond that hovered the grief he'd forced aside for duty. He sent them both a tired smile. "I will be checking on Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi next. I'm sure Healer Leabe won't let me escape unscathed."

*********************

The second Sle'fey entered the Healer's hall, Leabe was there, glaring at him. "I can't treat you if you hide from me."

He tried not to huff back about duty and putting the Jedi Order above his own pain. It was useless to protest and they both knew it. "I'm here now so get on with it." When Leabe glanced at his Republic shadow with questions in his eyes, Sle'fey shook his head. "Lieutenant Obrim has been appointed by the Judiciary to make sure I don't leave Coruscant. It would seem that he thinks I killed Palpatine on a whim."

It really should have been beneath him to bait the damn fool but he must have been in more pain than he realized.

Of course, Obrim protested. "I am here to see that Master Sle'fey will be available to answer questions about the murder of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. I am to remain with him at all times."

The look Leabe sent back was scathing. It was obvious he'd had enough of bureaucratic nonsense. "I already have two Republic guards cluttering up my wards and getting in the way of my staff. Is it really necessary to have a third?"

"I have my orders, Healer." Obrim just stood there, chest puffed out, arms crossed, glowering at them all. He looked as immovable as a planet. There would be no compromise but Sle'fey already knew that.

"Very well." Apparently, Healer Leabe wasn't going to fight the guard either – surprisingly since he would often fight Sle'fey on just about everything. It could be that he disagreed with him on every issue they'd ever discussed or perhaps Leabe saw it as a form of recreation but it didn't matter. Shrugging, the Healer ignored Obrim and pointed toward one of the examination rooms.  "Master, if you will come this way, I'll try and make this as quick as I can."

As they walked down the corridor and into the room, there was only silence. He knew that Leabe was no fool and he'd already had to deal with the other two guards so he wouldn't give anything away in front of Republic spies. It wasn't until Leabe started to clean and dress the burns that Sle'fey asked, "How are former Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi?"

A quick glance toward the surly Obrim and Leabe leaned in, smoothed bacta over one of the longer wounds with a gentle touch. "Jinn is doing well enough. He tore some of the scar tissue he'd gotten from his fight with…."

There was hesitation and no names. Leabe could keep secrets as Sle'fey well knew. "But nothing to be concerned about. He sustained plasma burns on his chest and shoulder. I've packed it with bacta but it will take a few days before he's fit again. Otherwise, he's in good health."

A thick glob of bacta cooled his skin and he tried not to sigh in relief. Leabe was not so reserved. He smiled down at Sle'fey, knowing the medication was beginning to work, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. His voice softened into whispers. "Kenobi is more problematic. His wounds opened up during the fight and I've had to reknit some of the bone/muscle connections. Plus he also had plasma burns and an odd kind of electrical shock to his body. He will need to remain in bed for at least a day, possibly more while we flush out the calcium buildup in his tissues."

Obrim must have gotten restless or worried they were planning something; he moved closer, well within earshot. Leabe gave Sle'fey's arm one final pat and stepped back. "Kenobi and Jinn are both in the same room they'd had this morning."

"I want to see them." He needed to make sure that the Republic spies had not bullied the pair of them into giving away anything. He didn't think Jinn would be so foolish but Kenobi's mental condition was still of concern. He'd felt the darkness when the knight had attacked Sidious; if that was still a problem, he needed to know.

He began to shrug back into his tunics but Leabe stopped him, looking down with a critical eye at the way he was moving. "I'll be done in another moment. Do you have any other injuries?"

"No, I was luckier than most. Master…." He stopped for a moment, suddenly powerless to speak the name, his throat clogged with unshed grief. He still remembered how Zak looked just before he died, astonishment and defeat in his eyes and then agony twisting his face. The loss was just now beginning to hit him and it hurt far more than he'd ever imagined. Bowing his head, Sle'fey managed to breathe out, "Master Xacor took the brunt of it."

"When will the bodies be returned for cremation?" Leabe must have understood because he was gentler than he had ever been before with Sle'fey.

However, now was not the time for grief. He shook himself free of it and said steadily, flatly, "When the investigation is complete. It may be a while."

The Healer nodded. "Well, I'm finished here. Shall we go see my other two wayward patients?"

*********************

Qui-Gon Jinn was sitting cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, relaxed, hair framing his face. Meditating away the pain and loss of the day.

Sle'fey could almost admire the man's ability to let go of everything but the essentials. It had become increasingly difficult to do in the wake of the Order's takeover by Tharten and her horde of darkside sycophants and even he had struggled to deal with the darker emotions. Hopefully, that would change in the months and years ahead.  

Kenobi, on the other hand, was obviously still struggling with anger. As Sle'fey entered, a blaster bolt glare was sent his way but the man lowered his eyes when Qui-Gon looked up, said softly, "Obi-Wan."

The irritating Obrim was not trailing him anymore. He was slumming with his friends by the doorway, their bodies huddled together, jabbering about something or other. A steady glare as the man watched him, clearly making sure he hadn't tried to escape but at least he wasn't hovering over his shoulder every moment. It was a relief.  

Bowing to Jinn, Sle'fey nodded back to Healer Leabe who was now busy with his comlink and paying no attention to them. Seeing that he would get no help from the healer, he said, "I am told that you are well enough considering the circumstances. As I'm sure you realize, there will be an investigation of the incident in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office and it is likely that we will all be summoned to answer questions. I don't…."

"We know what to expect, Councilor. Get to the point." The hostility in Kenobi's voice brought another quiet rebuke from Jinn but that didn't stop him. "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon but you have no idea what he is like. I won't be party to this. Hasn't he destroyed enough Jedi in his cause?"

"Knight Kenobi, please. I grieve for your loss but Sidious would have wiped out the Bendu and the Jedi without a single thought." Another sharp glare but at least the man kept silent. "Padawan Atel Sl'etah will be honored for her sacrifice. Hers was a commitment to the light that will be an example for generations to come."

"Fine words, Sle'fey, but I don't believe them. Or you." With that, Kenobi turned away, fiddling anxiously with the bandages on his shoulder, and ignoring them all.

Qui-Gon frowned, his face hard with disapproval but he must have realized now was not the time for reprimands. Instead, he said, "Master Sle'fey, I would like to contact my family on Naboo as soon as possible and let them know that I am well. My wife and son will be quite worried."

"I think that can be arranged." He turned toward Leabe, about to tell him to get a long-distance HoloNet connection set up when the healer gave a final sharp reply and switched off his comlink.

It was odd but Leabe looked almost pale, as if he'd gotten bad news. But he must have read Sle'fey's mind. The healer spun around, went over to the wall where a HoloNet plate was stored and then pulled it down, getting it ready for transmission.

"Master Jinn, Senator Amidala wants to talk with you." He sounded upset but as he pressed the button and the Senator's petite form began to appear, he said, "I'm sorry."

They were all staring at Leabe for a moment, startled by his abrupt change in demeanor, and even the Republic guards stopped talking when Amidala said, "Qui-Gon, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings but I've been in contact with Naboo." She hesitated, clearly unhappy but then she straightened, her eyes steady on Qui-Gon's face. "Ben is fine if a bit shaken up. He's staying at the Sanctuary with Shmi but Le'orath is in the Healer's care. She was pretty badly hurt."

Qui-Gon's face paled. Wincing from the pull of bandages and the obvious wounds he still suffered, he leaned forward, bracing for bad news.

And it was bad.

"A Force user, likely a Sith Lord or an apprentice, tried to kill them both. Ben was able to escape but Le'orath... Qui-Gon, she will live but the baby died. There was too much damage. I'm sorry." The Senator shifted awkwardly, blinking back tears, sorrow in her voice. "Luckily Anakin arrived in time or the outcome would have been much worse. Their attacker is dead but Qui-Gon, Mace didn't…" More misery, more grief, more regret. "Mace Windu is dead. The Sith killed him."

Qui-Gon buried his face in his hands. Sle'fey had never lost a child but he knew it could be devastating. And Mace Windu had been known for his superb swordsmanship and devious fighting style and unswerving loyalty to his friends; from Kenobi's early reports, Windu and Jinn had been close, almost brothers.

So much loss in a single day.

Yet there was treasure among all that destruction. "Senator, are you certain it was a Sith?"

She seemed almost relieved to be talking of other, less personal things. "I've discussed this with Master Windu's second-in-command, Pavel Janson, and Anakin Skywalker, Master Jinn's apprentice. Both insist that it was a Sith. The killer wielded a red lightsaber and Anakin said that he had used the darkside against them."

If Amidala was correct, this could mean the end of the Sith. The Dark Lord was now a headless corpse and perhaps the Bendu had killed the apprentice as well. Always two there are, no more, no less and if both were dead....

"Skywalker said the darkside? You are sure of it?" Sle'fey's bark was sharp with satisfaction.

"Yes, Master Jedi. I'm certain that he would testify to that effect if necessary. Plus they've put the body into stasis. His ship is also in custody and is currently be studied by the Bendu. I can arrange for you to talk with them if necessary. I'm sure they would want to cooperate." She seemed confident, a Senator believing in her people and knowing they would not fail her.

He tried not to seem too pleased but this was perfect, if true. "When the Judiciary investigation of Jedi actions with regard to Palpatine's death is complete, I would like that, thank you."

"Qui-Gon?" Amidala had turned back into the concerned friend. She seemed softer, more gentle and someone you  could rely on at a time of loss.

His eyes were reddened with grief but Qui-Gon was gracious as always. "Thank you, Padmé, for letting me know. If you could, I would like to go home as soon as possible."

"Unfortunately, until you have been cleared, there is nothing I can do." She reached out, almost forgetting that she was not there to comfort, but then realized her mistake and nodded instead. "I will keep in touch and let you know if anything changes at home. It should only be a few days and then I'll arrange for transport." Amidala sent him a gentle smile. "She has the best care available, Qui-Gon, and they got to her in time. I'm sure she'll understand about why you aren't there."

"Le'orath is... a stubborn woman. She may never forgive me for this." Qui-Gon shook his head and looked away, out into the night. "And I wouldn't blame her."

"You couldn't know that," she reminded him.

"I warned her before we married that being around me might be dangerous. I don't think she really believed it." He seemed resigned, almost broken by the news.

Amidala gave him one last hopeful nod. "I'll do my best to speed your release, Qui-Gon."

"Thank you, Padmé." And the image wavered and disappeared.

For a moment, no one said anything. Qui-Gon was looking off into the distance, his shoulders slumped and he seemed to be bearing the weight of the galaxy, lost in his own misery. Healer Leabe stood next to him, hand on the uninjured shoulder, murmuring likely words of Jedi compassion. Kenobi kept staring at his old master, his hands clenching and unclenching as if he wanted to hobble over and comfort the man but was unsure of his reception. The guards were standing by the door, frowning at the tableau, and then relaxing back into duty, unconcerned.

Apparently, only Sle'fey understood the real resolution of the battle on Naboo. This was of immense importance to the Jedi Order. The Sith may have been eradicated now and forever. "At least we know that the Sith apprentice is likely dead. One less thing to concern ourselves with."

"You have the heart of a sand viper, Sle'fey," Kenobi snarled, his eyes black with fury.

He refused to accept the rebuke. "We have our own losses. And there may be more.  I am sorry about Master Windu but I need to see beyond the immediate difficulties."

"So much for compassion." Kenobi's voice was space-cold, frosting the air with his contempt. "And do you grieve for Master Xacor? Your friend? Or do you just pay lip service to impress the rabble?"

"There is no death. There is the Force."

A stock reply and one that he should believe; it was at the heart of the Jedi Code. But Zak's final moments seared across his memory, the profanity of plasma beams burning into his skin, mouth impossibly wide, agony in blood and tears and torn flesh as Sidious destroyed him. Sle'fey hadn't been able to do a thing while the friend he'd known since the crèche protected him from the blast at the cost of his own life. The grief was shaking him apart and he couldn't let that happen.

"Well done. A non-answer yet again." Kenobi's sarcasm was pointed as an obsidian blade.  

But the anger in the knight's eyes was enough to harden Sle'fey's slipping control and make his answer durasteel harsh. "We are trained to let go and you would do well to remember that. I will grieve in my own time and then I will carry on his work as he would want me to do, to honor him."

Obi-Wan jerked back, blinking astonishment, sounding almost curious. "The first answer you've given me that doesn't smack of back-stabbing political posturing." Then frowning, he said sharply, "I wonder which one is real."

Master Trest Sle'fey, Councilor, now head of the Jedi Order, holding everything together by sheer will and Bothan cunning, the one who must not lose his way no matter what the consequences, could only whisper back, "So do I."

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