On Ebon Wings, Ere I Breathe

            A bright light burned into his eyes.  He blinked, and realized that he could see.  The light hurt in a way that was familiar.  He turned his head, intensely surprised to find that he could.  The sun burned now on the side of his face.  His face...  he reached up, with trembling hands, and traced brow, nose, eyelids, and finally cheeks and chin.  Unfamiliar was the hair that had grown on his face.  Unfamiliar was the length of his hair, as he ran his hands through it, trailing through locks long enough to reach his chin.

            His senses seemed to be awakening one by one.  His eyes were undecided, but his skin was fully aware;  besides the sun burning down on him, he could feel wind caressing his body, ruffling his hair, chilling his sun-warmed face.  His skin also told him he was laying on the ground, in loose sand peppered with rocks.  He twitched, then rolled onto his side.  Less rocks, but still uncomfortable.

            Better on the eyes, too.  He could see now, quite well.  The view was not spectacular, composed of the rocks and sand he lay on.  But what he saw was as unfamiliar as the length of his hair --  he had been on many planets, but this was certainly not one of them.

            His nose now began informing him of its assessment:  dry climate, acrid-smelling atmosphere, no green smells to speak of.  If he was alone on this planet, he was probably going to die of exposure before he enjoyed his privacy.

            Someone was sniggering.

            He normally didn't differentiate on laughter, but what he was hearing was most definitely sniggering.  He got the distinct impression that it was at his expense.  He sat up cautiously, eyes wide as he sought the source.

            -I love watching you people wake up- a voice said, followed by more sniggering.  -I swear, the blank staring just makes my day.-

            He jerked his head around, in what he was sure was the direction of the voice.  On a rock perched the only living thing in the area, ebony feathers ruffling in the breeze.  A blackbird. 

            -Stupid humans- the voice muttered.  -I'm a crow, idiot.  Blackbirds are a different species.  They're also just about as stupid as humans are.-

            "I see," he said, even though he really didn't see.  He couldn't really be sitting here talking to a bird, could he?

            -Hah!- the voice cackled, and the crow cocked its head to regard him with a shiny golden eye.  -You shouldn't be here talking to anyone, but you are.  Shouldn't that strike you as a bit more strange?-

            "Why?" he said, head starting to spin in confusion.  His voice was strong, steady, in direct opposition to his state of mind.  "You're strange enough for us both, I would say."

            The crow fluffed its wings, hopping from one foot to the other in what seemed to be agitation.  -This isn't getting us anywhere.  Usually you fools remember your jobs on your own.-

            "Job?" he repeated blankly.

            There was a distinct sigh.  -What's your name, golden boy?-

            "My name is - " he stopped, drawing a blank.  "I...  I don't know."

            He got the impression of someone dropping their head into their hands.  -Then it's a good thing we get briefed on our targets, or we'd both be screwed.  Stupid humans- the bird twisted its head around to look at him with its other eye.  -Obi-Wan ring a bell?-

            He straightened, the name setting off a chain reaction in his memory.  "Yes.  That's right...  my name...  is Obi-Wan Kenobi."  But that wasn't all he was remembering.  He clambered to his feet, almost falling back to the ground before he caught his balance.  The position was strange, as if it had been a long time since he had stood on his own two feet.  "I remember...  Naboo.  I was on Naboo."  He cast another glance about the area, raising an eyebrow to himself.  "This doesn't look very much like Naboo."

            -Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner- the crow said, flapping its wings in a pleased manner.  -And you're right.  Naboo's a number of parsecs away, as you people currently measure distance.-

            Obi-Wan looked down at himself, fingers tugging hesitantly at the clothing he wore.  It was as familiar to him as this planet was unfamiliar, beige tunics and leggings, worn brown boots.  No belt, no cloak.  Realizing its absence, the lack of a lightsaber on his hip felt wrong.  He felt unbalanced.  His lightsaber –

            He abruptly sank to his knees as the events of those last few days came rushing back.  The mission to Naboo, requested specifically by Chancellor Valorum.  The Gungans, the imprisoned Naboo.  Hiding on Tatooine because of the hyperdrive.  The boy..  he shut his eyes tightly.  The Council meeting.  He couldn't help the moan of despair that emerged from his throat, remembering.  His Master had taken Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan, which left Obi-Wan...  where?  Adrift.  Lost.  And still willing to do anything for the man he'd called Master for almost eight years.

            They had returned to Naboo, all of them...  and...   and what?  His hand unconsciously drifted back to the place where his lightsaber should have hung.  Lightsabers.  Blue.  Green.  Two blades of spinning red, all three lightsabers dancing together in a blur of memory.

            With a sharp cry he ripped at his outer tunic, pulling it over his head fiercely enough to scrub his skin and yank an ear.  He went after his undertunic, ripping a seam in the sleeve before removing it.  His body was just as he remembered it, at least;  scars from literally hundreds of dangerous missions crossing here and there.  If it weren't for bacta, he imagined there would have been many more.  But there was one scar that was new.  Jagged yet small, it was just above his heart.  A burn, rough and circular, a pale red against the rest of his skin.

            He touched it with trembling fingers, feeling incredibly smooth skin typical of old lightsaber burn scars.  He didn't have to look to know that there was a matching burn on his back, where the Sith's lightsaber had pierced his body.

            He raised shocked and wounded eyes back to the crow.  It hadn't moved, and was regarding him with infinite patience.  "I..  died," he croaked.

            -Yep.-

            "Where.." he coughed, trying to force words past a suddenly tight throat.  "Where am I?  Hell?"

            -Heh.  Close representation to it, at least for your Republic.  This is Geonosis.  Ring any bells?-

            "Geonosis."  He closed his eyes, consulting his internal map.  Close to Naboo, even closer to Tatooine.  He shuddered.  "So Geonosis is where we go when we die?  I was right.  This is hell."

            The crow laughed, hopping around on its rock perch a bit.  -Well, I can't speak for everyone, but I can tell you this.  You're not in the land of the dead.  Or one with the Force.  Or whatever crap currently featured as the afterlife special of the millennium.-  The crow flapped its wings in a stretch.  To Obi-Wan the bird was beginning to look uncomfortable spending so much time on the ground.

            "So I'm not dead?" Obi-Wan said hopefully.  He didn't feel dead.  He was breathing, with a pulse -- he took a moment to press two fingers to his wrist, double-checking -- could feel, think, smell...  He didn't know what being dead meant, but he didn't think it meant waking up to rocks poking you in the backside.

            -Eh.  Sorry, kid.  You're most definitely dead, pulse or no pulse.  You died on Naboo ten years ago, speared by one ugly Sith.-

            Killed on Naboo.  By a Sith.  Obi-Wan blinked in astonishment.  "TEN YEARS?!"

            -Don't yell at me- the crow said huffily.  -I didn't stab you.  Though if it makes you feel any better, that Master fellow of yours sliced the ugly one in half.-

            "But...   but..."  Obi-Wan clenched his hands, counted to ten, and ran himself through the most basic of calming exercises.  He knew that he was beginning to sound rather pathetic.  He didn't know that the crow thought he was handling the news rather well, all things considered.  "If I've been dead for ten years...  what am I doing here?  And now?"

            The crow went utterly still, looking at him with unblinking amber eyes.  -You remember.-

            He writhed in the silence, striking out in any direction.  There was nothing to touch, nothing to see, nothing to feel.  If this was what was meant by being one with the Force, then he thoroughly believed that the saying was highly overrated.  He strained to connect to any thing, any moment, any thought.  And what was most on his mind was Qui-Gon, his Master's shaking hands touching and burning his icy face with their warmth.  The despair etched into Qui-Gon's features, even as his Master gathered him into his arms, rocking him as numbness began to seep into Obi-Wan's entire body.  He flinched away from the memory, but memories were all he had in this place.

            Oh, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon whispered, tears falling unheeded down his cheeks.  Why...

            Obi-Wan reached up with one trembling hand, lightly touching Qui-Gon's face and catching tears on the tips of his fingers.  Strength fading, his hand dropped away only to be captured by one of his Master's.  Obi-Wan took a moment to marvel at the feeling.  So much warmth.  So much life.  He would be grateful for that. 

            Entering the fray only as himself, no longer as the man's Padawan, Obi-Wan had opened himself completely to the Force.  It came to him, filling his mind and freeing his thoughts.  He had let the prescience that Qui-Gon normally disdained flow through him.  He had seen his Master's death at the Sith's hands, leaving him and Anakin bereft and alone.  That would have been intolerable, trapped with his own guilt and a boy he was not capable of teaching.  When the opening had occurred in the fighting, he had deliberately ducked a blow, knowing it would catch his Master instead.  Qui-Gon had tumbled off the catwalk, not him.  It left Obi-Wan alone to bear the fight, to give his Master precious moments of recovery. 

            He looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes, so shockingly blue and vibrant it almost took what little remained of his breath.

            Worth it, he thought.  Worth it.  He lives, I die.  Small price to pay for the galaxy to retain this light.  He swallowed against his own despair, knowing that he loved Qui-Gon, knowing that he had been right to not speak of it.  His Master's affection was for a Padawan Learner.  The young man named Obi-Wan Kenobi was of little consequence, especially in light of a prophecy.

            He took a breath, wanting to speak, not wanting to leave his Master in silence.  "Train Anakin," he found himself whispering instead.  His prescience, he thought distantly, had very annoying timing.  "He..  needs you, Qui-Gon..."  He half-smiled.  "...like.. I..." he couldn't finish.  His breath was gone.  He shuddered, heard his Master calling his name desperately.  But he was falling away.

            He screamed, hunched over in the sand, clenched hands filled with bits of rock and dirt.  He took a deep, rasping breath.  Obi-Wan blinked grit from his eyes, slowly unclenching his fists.  His throat felt raw and sore, as if he'd been screaming for a long time.

            There was a dark shape next to him.  He raised his eyes to find the crow had moved closer, and was now perched rather precariously on a rock that jutted out of the sand.  -Well?-

            "Yes," Obi-Wan whispered, bowing his head again and letting his forehead rest on the sand.  "I remember."

            Please! he screamed, feeling as though he was beating himself senseless against an invisible wall.  PleasePleasePlease!

            What a racket, someone said.  You're screaming loud enough to wake the dead, youngling.  And I should know.

            The voice was female, warm and comforting.  Obi-Wan went quiet, trying to find the voice's owner.  Hello?

            Hello, youngling, she replied.  She was everywhere, even as he was one tiny consciousness in a vast sea of nothing.  What's got you so worked up? There was a pause, and she continued speaking without waiting for a response.  What are you doing here, anyway?  Your place is beyond all this.  You should have passed on long ago.

            Obi-Wan didn't have the faintest idea what she was talking about.  I've always been here.  Well.  Not always.  But I've never been anywhere else since...  since...  you know.

            She sounded amused when she spoke next.  Yes.  I know.  But you've spent all your time hanging around the borderlands when you should have moved on.

            Borderlands?  Obi-Wan looked around himself, or as close to looking around as he thought he was getting.  I don't see any land, he muttered petulantly.

            She laughed gaily.  For a Jedi, you're terribly literal. 

            Thanks?  He wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not.

            Still.  Back to my earlier question.  What are you yelling about?  You've been rather incomprehensible.

            Something's wrong, he said.  When she was silent, waiting, he tried to explain.  I..  something feels wrong, in my head.  Out...   out there, he said, wondering if she would understand where he meant.  He wasn't sure he understood it, himself. 

            You want to go back.

            I'm dead.  I can't go back.

            Obi-Wan got the distinct impression that someone was being very patient with him.  Dearheart, if you're half the Jedi I think you are, then you should realize that there are a great many things that are not impossible.  Answer the question, love.

            Yes, I want to go back.  Obi-Wan sighed.  I know it sounds shallow and selfish, but I need to go back.  Something...  something is...  he hesitated, striving to put what he felt into words.  Something is unbalanced.  I think it's my fault...  and if it's my fault, then I need to fix it. 

            Doesn't have anything to do with unrequited love?

            Obi-Wan knew he was blushing.  I have unrequited love...  yes.  But I think even if I went back to balance things, it would remain unrequited love.

            Why?

            He smiled.  He doesn't love me.  And even if, by some perverse miracle, he did love me, it wouldn't be fair.

            Why?

            I'm dead.  I'd have to return here.  What right do I have, to give someone my heart and then take it back from them?

            I think that's rather silly of you.  Love...  even love shared only for a moment...   Obi-Wan felt the equivalent of a mental shrug.  No matter.  I think you're going to be the first case I've handled in a long time that isn't about vengeance.

            Jedi do not seek revenge, Obi-Wan replied, bewildered.  He still had no idea who he was speaking to, and had just confessed to feelings he had never admitted to anyone without the slightest qualm.  Worse, he felt like he had just passed some sort of test, but he wasn't sure of the subject matter.

            Admiral quality, that, she said cheerfully.  Especially considering the nature of humans.  You're a very violent lot.

            Obi-Wan didn't know what to say to that.  Trained diplomat or not, there weren't many ways to respond when an invisible entity insulted your entire species.  Then he blinked, realizing that the presence was fading.  Wait! he yelled, unable to follow.  What do I do?

            He felt warmth, a radiant presence.  Light seemed to seep into his mind, and the darkness around him began to fade.  Silly Jedi, she said, voice sparkling with amusement.  All you have to do is wake up.

            The crow cackled, making soft noises as its beak opened and closed.  -She's great, isn't she?-

            Obi-Wan sat back, legs folded under him, and regarded the crow that was still, against all definitions of reality, talking to him.  "I suppose.  I mean, she sent me here."  He blinked, still dazed from the rush of memory as he reached for his tunics. 

            -Bah.-  The crow hopped up to him, then gazed up at Obi-Wan expectantly as he finished dressing.  Obi-Wan belatedly held out an arm, and the crow jumped up ungainly and clamped its feet around his wrist.  The bird was heavier than it looked.  He wiggled his shoulder in invitation, and the crow obligingly shuffled its way slowly up his arm and settled on his shoulder.  The small talons punctured cloth but not skin.

            Obi-Wan stroked one finger through the silky soft feathers, and the crow leaned into the caress.  "You're my guide," he whispered.

            -Pretty much- said the crow.  -I'm just around to fill in a few blanks, keep you from doing anything terribly stupid.-

            Obi-Wan nodded.  He had no memory of discussing the crow's ties to him.  The knowledge was simply there. 

             -So, you know what you're doing here now?-

            Obi-Wan nodded as he stood up.  The crow spread its wings slightly for balance.  "I think so.  I'm working mostly on instinct here, so we might do a bit of exploring first."

            -Fine by me.  I've got all the time in the world, kid.-  The crow blinked its amber eyes and turned its beak into the wind.  -Though you might not.  I hear fighting.-

            Obi-Wan blinked, straining his ears.  Crows obviously had better auditory skills, so he used the Force to sharpen his hearing.  Then he heard it as well;  muted blaster fire, and the hum of lightsabers.  "That..." he said, listening to the myriad blend of distant humming, "...is a lot of lightsabers."

            -Battle royal, huh kid?- the crow shook itself, feathers raising and settling back into smooth and glossy black lines.

            He nodded and stood up.  He walked carefully at first, unsure of the weight on his shoulder, until the crow smacked him in the face with a raised wing. 

            -You could run at top speed and not dislodge me.  And even if I did fall off, I do have wings.  Come on.  Let's get this show on the road.-

            Obi-Wan felt himself smile.  "As you wish," he said, and instantly set off in a Force-enhanced run.  He hadn't even had to think about it, the Force had flowed to him so easily.  He almost laughed, exhilarated at the speed in which he pelted across the landscape. 

            -Holy shit!- the crow cried, and Obi-Wan felt talons dig into his flesh.  Then Obi-Wan did laugh, even though the talons hurt a little bit. 

            He came to a stop at the edge of a cliff, not willing to go over at full speed without seeing what he would land on.  He took a deep breath and released it, feeling amazingly fresh.  He could have been strolling through the Temple gardens, not running at full-speed over a naturally-provided obstacle course.  "So what do I call you?"

            -You want my name?-

            "Well, yes," Obi-Wan said, eyes catching the outline of a single fighter on the ground far below, the only thing in the confines of the valley that stretched out before him.  The shape looked vaguely familiar.  "You're a sentient creature, and you're helping me.  Simply calling you 'Hey, Bird,' seems horribly impolite."

            The crow cackled again, a short caw emerging from its throat.  -Call me Jeimor.  A distinctly male member of the crow family, Obi-Wan.-

            "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jeimor," Obi-Wan replied.  "Even if the circumstances are..."

            -Fucking strange.-

            Obi-Wan could only nod in agreement before he jumped off the cliff.

            -Hey!- Jeimor yelled, immediately launching himself from Obi-Wan's shoulder and spreading his wings.  -Give a guy a little warning, why don't you?-

            Obi-Wan laughed softly, slowing his fall with the Force and coming to a stop, resting on the ground in a partial crouch.  "My apologies.  But you did say you had wings."

            He heard Jeimor mutter rude comments about Jedi under his breath as he jogged towards the fighter.  It was triangular in shape, marked in tan and red.  The emblem of the Jedi Order graced the side, and the dome of an astromech droid was visible, tucked in next to the cockpit.  "It's one of ours."

            -Jedi transportation?  I thought you guys just ran everywhere.-

            "If the Council had figured out a way to run through space, they'd probably make us," Obi-Wan said drolly.  He drew closer to the craft.  Immediately the lights on the little astromech unit switched on, and it swiveled its dome head to look at Obi-Wan.  It beeped warningly, obviously recognizing him as an intruder.

            He walked over, eyes catching sight of the restraining bolt the little droid wore on its head.  "That must be distinctly uncomfortable," he said conversationally.  The droid beeped mournfully.  "That's a beautiful little fighter you've got there." 

            This time the droid bristled, chirping fiercely at him and ending the tirade with a resounding raspberry.  "Relax," Obi-Wan soothed.  "I'm not here to steal it.  I'm a Jedi -- we don't steal from our own."

            The droid beeped hesitantly.

            "Yes.  Really.  In fact, I'll even remove your restraining bolt as long as you promise not to blast me into oblivion once I do so."

            -Jedi- the crow muttered, settling down to perch on the nose of the craft.  -You guys would negotiate with a rancor while it was eating you.-

            Obi-Wan glared in Jeimor's direction.  "Probably.  Still."  He reached out and grasped the edge of the fighter's wing.

            Images assaulted him brutally, flowing unceasingly through his mind at the contact. 

            Platform at the Temple on Coruscant. 

            A water world, pelted unceasingly by heavy rains. 

            Qui-Gon standing in front of the ship, huddled inside soaked robes as he spoke to the little astromech. 

            Asteroids and mind-numbingly fierce explosions. 

            Qui-Gon again, speaking to the droid though he couldn't make out the words. 

            Destroyer droids.

            He gasped and ripped his hand away, wrapping both arms around his chest as he struggled to process what he had just seen.  "Force gods," he whispered, straightening up slowly as his mind began to settle once more.  "What the hell was that?"

            -Sorry- Jeimor said, sounding genuinely contrite.  -I suppose I should have warned you.  You're...  extremely sensitive to psychic impressions now.  People and objects.  Sometimes even places.  Comes with the job.-

            Obi-Wan stared at Jeimor in dismay.  "Will that happen every time I touch something?"  It would be crippling for that to happen in the middle of a fight.

            The crow cocked his head consideringly.  -Not really.  It depends on some interesting variables.  Usually you won't get the same rush of feedback touching something twice.  And the more it involves something important to you, the stronger it will be.-  The crow tapped his beak on the fighter's hull.  -What did you see?-

            Obi-Wan closed his eyes, focusing on the flashes of physical memory he'd seen.  Qui-Gon.  He focused on the second image, clearer without the rain.  There was more silver in the beard, definitely more silver in the hair.  It didn't make him look older, surprisingly, just...  regal.  It was the only word Obi-Wan could think of.  But there were more lines on his face, and there was a tired resignation in Qui-Gon's eyes that Obi-Wan had never seen before.  He felt his eyes filling with tears before he could help himself.  His Master was here, on this planet. 

            I can't face him, his mind gibbered at him, his sense of place tilting rather swiftly out of balance.  I can't, I can't, I can't!

            Obi-Wan slapped his hands together, running through a calming technique and finding his center before his brain could paralyze him.  "This is Qui-Gon Jinn's vessel," he answered Jeimor.  "He's here somewhere.  Judging by the destroyer droids I saw, probably in trouble."

            -Your Master- Jeimor said, half-closing his eyes.  -Does it involve us?-

            Obi-Wan touched the Force, but no advice was forthcoming.  "I don't know yet."  Reaching down, he picked up a flat, strong rock in his hands, then nimbly climbed up on the fighter.  No images assaulted him this time, for which he was thankful. 

            -What are you doing?-

            "Doing as I said I would," Obi-Wan replied absently, studying the restraining bolt on the astromech droid consideringly.  Then he struck it with the rock, hitting it precisely where he intended.  The bolt fell away, and the droid began cheeping happily.  "There you are, my friend," Obi-Wan said, patting the little droid affectionately.  "Better?"

            The droid burbled an enthusiastic affirmative.

            He stood and turned, ready to head back in the direction of the fighting.  Instead he heard an agitated beeping and turned back.  "What?"

            The droid chattered at him for a moment, then the cockpit canopy began to raise.  It was obviously an invitation.  Obi-Wan frowned, then looked at Jeimor.  "It would be faster."

            The crow seemed to wilt.  -I prefer my own wings- he retorted.  When Obi-Wan only waited, he sighed.  -Damn Jedi.-  With that the crow hopped clumsily up the nose of the fighter, waiting at the edge of the cockpit as Obi-Wan dropped into the pilot's seat. 

            The fighter was roomy for someone of his size, but for Qui-Gon the cockpit was probably cramped.  Obi-Wan took a moment to study the controls.  The basic layout of the Jedi fighter's controls had changed little since his last use of one, and the upgrades, though numerous, were easy to understand.  He began a short preflight, bringing up engines and systems from the stand-by they'd been left in.  The astromech interface screen on the console lit up, filled with the droid's excited narration.  "Pleasure to meet you, R-4," Obi-Wan smiled.  He had a feeling his list of new acquaintances was going to be rather long before the day was over.  "There's some kind of fight going on several miles from here.  Perhaps you could fill us in on the situation as we fly."

            R-4 scrolled a compliance.  Jeimor looked hesitantly down into the cockpit, cocking his head this way and that nervously.  -Where's the bird perch?-

            Obi-Wan couldn't help but grin.  He held out his arm to Jeimor, who jumped on it nimbly, and transferred the crow to the small but adequate space behind his right shoulder.  "Hang on to something," he said, grabbing the pilot's interface and placing it on his head.

            -Yeah.  Sure I will.-  Jeimor sounded distinctly put-out.  -There was nothing in my job description about this.-

            Obi-Wan kicked in the repulsors, and felt half-remembered pleasure as the craft rose steadily into the air.  He'd forgotten that he actually liked flying.  As long as no one was shooting at him, that was.  [Where should I begin?] R4 asked as the craft rose past the cliffs.  Now signs of an intense firefight were visible several kliks to the south.  Transports were involved now, and what looked like vessels of the Trade Federation and… was that the Techno Union army?  Wonderful.  "Start ten years ago, but give me information only relevant to the current situation."

            There was a long pause, filled by R4's thoughtful beeping.  The astromech screen lit up again, and R4 transmitted a lengthy and detailed explanation.  Obi-Wan felt himself go pale as he quickly read through the information.  A separatist movement, led by Count Dooku, had been forming steadily for several years.  Obi-Wan was well aware of who Count Dooku had been.  He frowned, remembering the slight displeasure that had always been in Qui-Gon's voice when his old Master had been mentioned.  He kept reading, as R4 listed the parties known to be involved.  The list was frighteningly long.  "Apparently the galaxy has gone through some rather significant changes since my departure," Obi-Wan murmured.

            -The more things change, the more things really change- Jeimor said flatly.

            [There is a motion on the Senate floor to create an army of the Republic to meet the Separatist threat.  A group known as the Loyalists, led by Senator Amidala of Naboo, has been in strict opposition to the vote.]

            "Not surprising."

            -Smart droid- said Jeimor.

            "They have to be," Obi-Wan said, realizing he was getting close to the fighting.  "They have to keep up with a lot of information in their service to the Jedi."  He quickly read the last of R4's information.           

            [There have been multiple attempts made on her life.  Padawan Skywalker was assigned by the Council to be her guardian.  So far I have not been informed as to the outcome of the vote, to be decided three days ago.  My Pilot, Master Jinn, was sent by the Council to track down the identity of those that would wish her harm.  Evidence was traced to Kamino, a hidden planet, where my Pilot uncovered a cloning facility.  Within it is a clone army.  The Kaminoans felt sure that the army was created at the request of the Council.  This is not the case, but the Kaminoans were not given this information.]

            Obi-Wan's eyes widened.  "Oh dear." 

            [My Pilot also uncovered the identity of the Senator's attacker, a bounty hunter named Jango Fett.  We traced Jango Fett to Geonosis.  Master Jinn went to investigate, returned and sent a message to the Council to inform them that the Separatists were building their army here.  Then he was attacked and captured.  The restraining bolt was placed, and I have received no news since that time.]

            -That's a hell of a lot to swallow at one time- Jeimor commented, and Obi-Wan felt feathers brush his neck as the crow shook himself.  Attacked and captured.  Not killed, then.  Not yet.  Obi-Wan resisted the urge to search the Force for his Master.  Better not to. 

            "It is indeed," he said, turning his attention firmly back to the controls.  He topped the next rise, and flew them straight into a war zone.

            R4 shrieked in alarm, trying to catalogue the presence of ten different projectiles all headed in their direction.  Obi-Wan sighed and sank into the Force, piloting them with easy efficiency through the danger.  He banked the craft, dropping low and allowing a droid-controlled fighter to zip past them.  "They're dying," he muttered, zipping the nimble craft around a lumbering droid control ship as it rose from the earth.

            -Who?-

            "Jedi," Obi-Wan whispered.  "Many Jedi.  It's been happening...  since I remembered.  But it took me a while to remember what death felt like.  And there were so many of them, I couldn't believe that's what I was sensing."

            -Mourn later, kid- Jeimor said firmly.  -I don't want to blow up.-

            Obi-Wan silently agreed.  Part of him said it wouldn't be a bad idea to  figure out who was an ally and who was not.  "R4, is anyone broadcasting data for tagging friendlies?  If they are, translate it to your system.  I want to know who's doing what.  Then broadcast out your own signal so no one shoots us by accident."

            The droid beeped compliance.  Obi-Wan slid back into combat maneuvers to avoid a trio of ships flying in tandem, firing at him solidly.  He marked them as droid-controlled ships and belatedly activated the fighter's weapons system.  A moment later he fired, obliterating two of the ships, with the resulting fireball taking out the third.  When he glanced back at the screen, he almost grinned in relief;  the Separatist army was not outnumbered, but a vast number of their ships seemed to be disappearing even as he watched.  He didn't know what army he was suddenly fighting with, but the flashes of lightsabers he saw on the battlefield alongside the armored troopers confirmed that he was on their side.

            -Don't know?  Bullshit- Jeimor grumbled.  -I think that Senate vote passed, Obi-Wan.-

            Obi-Wan nodded mutely, not really surprised, then jerked the craft abruptly.  Laser blasts streaked by the canopy.  Obi-Wan grimaced and tucked the ship into a looping dive, followed closely by the drone fighter on his tail.  The normally vocal crow stayed wisely silent as Obi-Wan jinked to one side, trying to avoid the blasts that were starting to become more and more precise.

            Gritting his teeth and hoping the little ship was up for it, Obi-Wan abruptly decreased the ship's speed, rolling to the left.  The droid ship sailed past.  He immediately rolled the fighter back to the right, aiming on Force-guided instinct and firing.  The other ship blew apart.

            -I'm starting to like you, kid.-  Jeimor snapped his beak in satisfaction.

            "Thanks," Obi-Wan replied distractedly, attention abruptly focused on a far corner of the battlefield.  He pulled back on the stick, gaining altitude and quickly escaping the worst of the fighting.  He nudged the craft around.  A speeder, escorted by two small droid ships, headed eastward away from the fighting.  For one clear moment the Force sang to him in recognition of the next task. 

            Without hesitation he followed, accelerating quickly.  He was too high up to be perceived as a threat to the droids escorting the speeder.

            -I do believe the battle is the other way?-  Jeimor sounded more interested than concerned.

            "We have to stop him," Obi-Wan replied, reaching out with his Force-sense to get a better feel for why.  Immediately he jerked back, slamming up his shields in one of the most complex patterns he'd ever been taught.  He shuddered unconsciously.

            -What?-

            "He's Dark," Obi-Wan explained, biting his lip in sudden fear.  The last time he'd gone up against one of Darkness, it had not gone well.  And the sense he had received from this one was much more powerful, carefully controlled and modulated in a way that was familiar, if tainted.  "I...  I think it's Count Dooku."  He sighed.  If Qui-Gon was here, then he was already well-aware of his old Master's fall.  Obi-Wan wished he could have spared Qui-Gon that realization --  his teacher had been hurt enough by Xanatos' betrayal so many years before.

            -Ah, the host departs before the party is over.-  Jeimor's beak clamped around Obi-Wan's earlobe and tugged.  -Relax, kid.  You're not the same person you once were.  This Count Dork is in for a surprise.-

            That surprised a laugh out of Obi-Wan.  "Dork?"

            -What, that wasn't his name?  Seems appropriate enough.-

            Obi-Wan smiled and coaxed more speed out of the nimble fighter, quickly passing and outdistancing the Count's speeder. 

            -Hmm.  We seem to be abandoning the bad guy.-

            "I know where he's going."  His destination had been the Count's primary focus during Obi-Wan's moment of contact.  He communicated with R4, and the fighter went even faster as the droid borrowed power from non-essential systems.  "We just need to get there first."

            The hangar bay had been carved directly into the mountain, and was all but deserted as Obi-Wan landed inside.  He popped the canopy, leaving the astromech droid to cool down the ship from its breakneck flight across the desert.  A small craft was the only other thing in the hangar, a sailship humming quietly in stand-by mode.  -What's the plan, kid?- Jeimor hopped up on the cockpit edge, stretching his wings and giving himself a good shake.

            "Disable the sailship first," Obi-Wan replied, already running through his limited knowledge he had of that ship type for the quickest way to cripple it.  "Keep him from making it off-planet.  If worst comes to worst, we'll just blow it up."

            -All right.  And the Dork?-

            Obi-Wan's lips twisted in a quick smile.  He rummaged around in the cockpit, then pulled the seat down to reach the storage compartment behind it.  "Him I'll need some sort of weapon for.  Or I could just stand there with you on my shoulder, threaten him, and when he laughs himself into unconsciousness we can roll him off of a cliff."

            Jeimor laughed, cawing gleefully.  -A sense of humor.  Bless my stars, the Knight is funny!-           

            Obi-Wan stopped short.  "Padawan," he said, voice frosty.  "The word you're looking for is Padawan.  And really, I'm not that, either."

            Jeimor blinked repeatedly, beak gaping as he turned his head around to look at Obi-Wan.  -Sure, kid- he said meekly.  -Whatever you say.-

            Obi-Wan nodded curtly and hauled the medical kit out of its hiding place.  Next was a container of dried foods, horrible but edible.  He was quite familiar with how bad they really were, especially eaten without rehydration.  Next was a plain leather case, surface marred, the edges worn soft from long years of use.  He clenched his hands nervously, wondering if touching this object that was so intimately Qui-Gon's would send him into another psychic tailspin.

            Fortunately he was wrong;  the sense of images and feelings he got from the case were very faint and easy to ignore.  There's not going to be a weapon in this, he told himself, then opened it anyway.  Inside was a change of clothes, packed so expertly that not even a wrinkle would exist when the tunics and leggings were unpacked for wear.

            Sitting on top of the clothing was Obi-Wan's lightsaber.

            For a moment he just stared at it, not even breathing.  That's not possible. 

            His eyes traveled the length of the hilt, taking in the handgrips and controls along with the tiny dints and scratches that revealed its hard use.  As far as looks went, it was exactly like his own.  Hesitantly, he touched the hilt.

            Oh dear sweet Force, no, he moaned, even as the images hurtled through his mind at the speed of light.  He had wielded this lightsaber from the age of twelve, and he flashed through eight years of memories in less than five seconds.  Katas, blaster bolts, Xanatos, his Master patiently guiding him through a new movement when his own feet kept tripping him up, laughing through a multiple spar with Bant and Garen, engagements beyond number...  and the Sith, always the Sith that he had battled.  His chest ached with phantom pain.

            Gritting his teeth, he forced the rush of memories away.  He wrapped his hand around the hilt and lifted it out of the case. Obi-Wan waited a moment until he was sure that the surge wasn't going to repeat itself, then put everything back into storage like he'd found it. 

            He had no idea what Qui-Gon was doing, carrying around his old lightsaber.  It was frightening, in a way that he could not explain.  A potential battle with a powerful Darksider felt like a carnival ride in comparison to the emotions this discovery unearthed.

            He felt a moment's guilt for taking the lightsaber, then shrugged mentally.  If he was still around when this day was over, he would apologize to Qui-Gon for the liberty and make sure it was returned.  It was certainly no longer his to keep.

            -Better hurry, kid- Jeimor said suddenly.  The crow cocked his head this way and that.  -I hear engines.-

            Obi-Wan nodded and leapt out of the cockpit, hitting the floor and running across the bay.  The sailship.  He ignited the lightsaber in his hands, his face instantly bathed in the familiar pale blue glow.  Knowing he didn't have time for anything complicated, he settled for general mayhem.  Holding out the lit saber, he activated the switch that would keep the blade lit.  Then he lifted it into the air with the Force.

            Several quick, exacting cuts, and the ship's sails were useless.  But those weren't needed to fly the ship in atmosphere, only space, so he dipped the blade and sent it whizzing along the underside of the craft.  The lightsaber cut efficiently into the ship's delicate innards, taking out the cooling system and several vital power junctions.  It could all be repaired, but it would take a lot of time.  He didn't intend to allow Dooku that time.  The Force was practically beating against his mind, letting him know with absolute certainty that the old Jedi had to be stopped.  He didn't have the time to sit down and figure out why.

            Obi-Wan called the blade back to his hand and allowed himself a quick smile. 

            -When you destroy something, you sure do a good job.-  Jeimor launched himself from the ship and flew towards Obi-Wan gracefully, flapping his wings in several sharp bursts before settling gently on Obi-Wan's shoulder.  -Time for the big confrontation, kid.  Ready?-

            "No," Obi-Wan replied honestly. 

            -Smart kid.  You'll go far.-  Jeimor shuffled his feet.  One large amber eye looked up at Obi-Wan speculatively.  -Why are you so intent on facing this guy?  Impression I got from your mind is you've never even met him before.-

            Obi-Wan forced himself to stand calmly, unmoving.  Giving in to nerves and pacing would only wear him out before the fight began.  "I had a flash when we saw him.  I'm prescient."  He smiled tightly.  "Very annoying talent.  Qui-Gon and his Padawan -- " He blinked back sudden tears.  It still hurt.  It still hurt to be cast aside.  Ruthlessly he shoved away the spike of hurt, releasing as much as he could to the Force.  It didn't matter now, anyway.  "Qui-Gon and Anakin were going to face Dooku here.  They're on their way here now, but Dooku's got quite a lead on them."

            -Okay, so your Master and his scrawny Apprentice were supposed to be the one to kick Dooku in the ass.  Why are you circumventing that?-

            "Did you just use real vocabulary?  I'm impressed."  Jeimor managed to make a sound very much like a derisive snort.  "And I'm circumventing it because they don't do very well."

            -No?-

            Obi-Wan shook his head, hearing the whine of a speeder.  The Count was very close now.  "No.  And I don't want anything to happen to either of them."  For a moment he remembered the smiling young boy Qui-Gon had rescued from slavery.  He wondered what kind of man the boy had grown up to be.

            -So you're going to play sacrificial lamb?-

            Obi-Wan held his ignited lightsaber by his side, finding his place in the Force as he heard the speeder engines go silent.  Someone began walking in his direction, coupled with the distinct air of Darkness approaching.  "I really hope not," he muttered.

            Count Dooku swept his cloak away from his arms, striding quickly across the silent hangar bay.  Things were going exactly to plan.  The Confederation was now embroiled in conflict with the new army of the Republic, a great number of Jedi were now dead, and war would soon engulf a large part of the galaxy.  His Master would be pleased, even as he was.  Great plans were coming to fruition, setting the stage for years to come. 

            Something impinged on his Force sense, and he slowed his pace.  Something was wrong.  He could see his ship, but not anything beyond it, yet the state of the mutilated sails told him everything he needed to know.

            Dooku frowned.  He could sense his old Apprentice approaching, with his new Padawan.  The powerful one.  Skywalker, whom his Master had high hopes for.  But this development had not been foreseen.

            He stepped around a shred of mutilated sail, taking in the sight before him. 

            A human male stood there, a full head shorter than he was, dressed in the simple tan garb of a Jedi.  Reddish-blonde hair grown long framed a bearded face, offsetting a pair of cool blue-green eyes.  His face was smeared with gray and black dust, especially around the eyes, leaving them in intense shadow.  A large black bird perched on the young man's shoulder, shuffling its feet as it regarded the Count with amber eyes that seemed enormously intelligent. 

            A lit lightsaber was held casually in the man's left hand, blade pointing down at the floor.  The light threw the young man's features into stark relief, which made the mingled dust on his face all the more disconcerting.  The eyes gazing up at Dooku held fierce determination. 

            It was a Jedi facing Count Dooku, one that felt not a trace of fear.  "You don't seem to be one of the Jedi from the arena," the Count mused, not yet reaching for his own lightsaber.  There was power in this one, restrained but just waiting to crackle to the surface.  It would be possible to lose to the strength that stood before him.  Now was the time to test that resolve.  Then weaknesses could be exploited.

            The Jedi smiled briefly, the expression not reaching his eyes.  "I'm a late arrival, Dooku."

            The Count smiled genially in return.  "I'm afraid you have me at a loss.  You know my name, but I do not know yours."

            "It's not important."  The young man shrugged, the gesture not dislodging the bird.  The amber eyes that looked at him unblinkingly were beginning to disturb him.  "I'm just here to stop you, and that's all you need to know."

            "Indeed," Dooku replied, lacing his fingers together and letting calm envelop him like a cloak.  He cast one eye on his damaged ship, seeing the fluids that leaked out the underside.  The young Jedi had expertly crippled his means off-planet, but there were still other avenues of escape to consider.  "I do not think you will succeed, my young friend."

            Another shrug.  "Think what you like."  Then his head tilted to one side, as if listening.  Dooku himself could hear the approaching whine of a transport.  "Two Jedi approach, Count Dooku.  Between the three of us, you may find escape difficult."

            Dooku smiled derisively, spreading his hands.  "A Padawan who cannot control his own emotions, and my own old apprentice.  I am not worried about the two of them.  Qui-Gon Jinn has lost two Padawans in disgrace and will soon lose a third."  He shook his head.  "A failed Jedi Master does not concern me."

            Narrowed eyes regarded him coldly.  "Perhaps the failure was not his own.  Perhaps you underestimate him."

            Dooku allowed himself a measure of satisfaction.  He had stumbled across a subject that broke through this Jedi's calm.  It was the barest flinch, but it mattered little;  it only mattered that Dooku could use it to destroy him.  "Perhaps," he allowed himself to agree, musingly.  He began to move, and the younger man moved as well.  Jedi and Fallen circled each other warily.  The blue lightsaber never raised, never sought to begin the attack.

            Weak fool, Dooku thought, feeling a moment's sympathy for the young Jedi still mired in the Order's impractical philosophies.  "You are familiar with my old student, then?"

            "By reputation," the Jedi replied, glancing once at the bird perched on his shoulder.  The bird cocked its head and looked up at the man with one amber eye.  "You might want to find a new perch."

            To Dooku's surprise, the bird cawed once, sharply, and launched itself into the air.  It landed silently on a small fighter on the other side of the hangar bay.  Dooku smiled;  once the Jedi had been dispatched with, a method of escape had already presented itself.  He turned his attention back to the Jedi.  "By reputation only?  Then surely you must have heard that Master Jinn is a broken man, a pale shadow of his former self."

            "I have heard nothing of the sort," the Jedi replied, cocking his head to one side in mimicry of his bird.  "I had not heard, however, that you speak in bad clichés."

            Dooku widened his eyes, his only acknowledgement of the insult.  "I speak only the truth, my young friend."  They continued to circle each other, slowly, carefully.

            -What are you going to do? Talk him to death?  Slice his head off already and get this over with.-

            No, Obi-Wan replied, forcing himself to breathe deeply, nerves singing and muscles screaming with repressed tension.  That is not the Jedi way.  I can't just strike him down.  Not like this.  He's not even attacking me.

            The crow cawed loudly, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent bay.  -You Force-brained idiot.  What do you think he's doing?-

            Obi-Wan switched his lightsaber to his right hand, surreptitiously wiping his sweaty palm on his leggings.  He's baiting me.  Trying to goad me into attacking him.

            Jeimor snorted.  -Got a headache?-

            Obi-Wan paused.  His head did feel funny, now that he considered it.  Even as the realization sank in a new, subtle spike of pressure touched his mind.  Through the Force he could sense his shields were being tested, prodded.  Several blazing points revealed where his defenses had already been wounded.

            He growled, frustrated with himself, and gripped his lightsaber in both hands.  "I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work."

            Dooku merely gazed at him with an innocent, proprietary smile.  "Do?"

            -Damn, but he's full of it.-

            Obi-Wan concentrated for a moment, healing over the damaged parts of his shields and then created a new level of the layered shielding over what already existed.  Immediately he felt better, thoughts running free and clear.  He shook his head, disgusted.  Dooku had already managed to hammer skillfully away at his defenses without Obi-Wan even realizing it. 

            He knew that he was not going to win against the fallen Jedi pitting his mental talents against him;  Obi-Wan's strengths lay elsewhere.  He could feel the Darkness that radiated off of the old man, cloying and sickening in its intensity.  Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, slowly but with certainty.  Dooku had trained his Master in lightsaber techniques.  Qui-Gon had passed those techniques on to him.  In a sense, he should be almost familiar with his opponent's skill with a blade. 

            Obi-Wan smiled, feeling his tension ease as his decision was made.  He swung his lightsaber in a tight arc, not surprised when a lightsaber suddenly appeared in Dooku's hand, blocking the pale blue blade with a dark red one.  Immediately the attack on his shields lessened, and he silently applauded himself for his assessment;  Dooku was powerful, but not powerful enough to assault his mind during a lightsaber battle.

            Dooku was no longer smiling.  "You will die, Jedi."

            Obi-Wan laughed, spinning around to deliver a high arc that Dooku parried away, spinning his strangely-formed lightsaber.  "That's the most amusing thing I've heard all day."

            Qui-Gon leapt off the transport, Anakin just behind him.  He landed silently, the Force easing the impact.  His Padawan hit the edge of the launch platform behind him with a bone-jarring thud, but uttered no word of complaint.  Lightsabers ignited, they hurried inside.  Dimly Qui-Gon was aware when their transport was destroyed by an attacking vessel, but most of his attention was already focused elsewhere. 

            His old Master had, with skillful manipulation, tried to convince him to join the Separatists.  Then, that failing, had tried to execute him instead.  Despite the events in the arena, Qui-Gon was quite sure that only the timely intervention of the other Jedi, and then Master Yoda and the clone army's arrival, had saved himself, Anakin, and Padmé from certain death.  He cared little about his own death, and sometimes wished almost desperately for it, but he would not lead anyone else to the same fate.

            Lightsabers raised as they entered the hangar proper, he only hoped that he was not doing that very thing now.