Inheritance

Required Assistance

* * * * *

The next morning...

The Council chambers have never not been intimidating. For as long as Obi-Wan can remember the round room with its floor to ceiling window panorama of Coruscant and intricately detailed flooring has always made him feel small. However, surrounded by the wisest of all the living Jedi, their eyes assessing him, their minds searching him, Obi-Wan feels more than small. He feels naked, raw, vulnerable. His limited shielding an insubstantial wisp against all but the gentlest of probes. Unable to seek comfort or protection within the Force, he pulls uncomfortably at the edges of his cloak before willing himself to still by placing his hands in opposite sleeves.

"Masters," Obi-Wan greets with a formal bow. As is his custom, Master Windu opens the session with the clear cut precision of a saber blade at full power.

"Master Kenobi, you come before this Council requesting a hearing of your petition to permanently remove your Force collar. Is this accurate?"

"It is, Master Windu."

"Have you fully considered the consequences of such action?" the soft and well reasoned voice of Ki-Adi-Mundi inquires.

"I have, Master Mundi."

"And yet you would proceed with this course of action?" asks Adi Gallia, her regal and velvety tones echoing sweetly in the open space of the chamber.

"With the Council's permission, yes," Obi-Wan replies evenly. A disapproving "hmmph" is heard from the oldest of the masters, but otherwise the wizened Jedi says nothing. Master Plo Koon leans forward in his seat.

"This request seems most imprudent. A Jedi should display patience even under the most disagreeable circumstances."

For those that can feel it, the Force momentarily sparks with Obi-Wan's irritation, but he is able to quickly sweep the emotion aside in lieu of true release.

"With respect, Master Plo, I have been patient. Even for a Jedi, a time comes when patience must yield to acceptance."

"And you believe you have reached that point?" Saesee Tiin follows.

"I do," Obi-Wan answers honestly. At that, the Grand Master can no longer keep his peace. The clack of his gimer stick striking the hard floor resonates ominously throughout the chamber.

"Reckless this is! And foolish you are to presume what you do!"

"That is your opinion, Master," Obi-Wan answers in an uncharacteristic and frankly dangerous show of impudence.

"My opinion indeed it is, young Master, but out voted I am."

Obi-Wan's ire slips off of him and is quickly replaced by a state of shock. He looks upon his fellow Council members, his eyes wide in surprise and hope.

"You have agreed to grant my request?"

"Yes," Mace answers as he leans back in his seat and steeples his fingers. "But the Council asks something of you in return."

Obi-Wan frowns. He knew this had been too easy; the questions too superficial not the razor-edged scraping of his moral and ethical center he had expected of a request for what was essentially Council assisted suicide.

"What would you have of me, Masters?"

"There has been... an offer," Mace answers cryptically. Obi-Wan regards his Korun friend quizzically.

"What kind of offer?"

"An offer to help you."

"From whom?"

"She has offered her assistance in this matter," Mace replies, one eyebrow raised in compliment to the slight quirk tugging at his mouth. Obi-Wan's brow wrinkles.

"She?" he repeats, then shortly after a warm breath of revelation rolls quietly through the Force. Obi-Wan stares at Mace who confirms his conclusion with a single nod.

"The Council would like you to meet with her before you decide to remove your collar. That is our request."

"Very well," Obi-Wan nods. "How long will it take to arrange a meeting?"

"She left for Coruscant four days ago and will arrive tomorrow," Mace smiles. "She had a feeling she would be needed."

Obi-Wan allows himself a small smile as well.

"Yes, I bet she did."