"How can we be sure Kenobi is truly dead?" Adi Gallia inquired stubbornly, her cerulean eyes boring into Master Windu's dark-skinned face. "How can we know that it is not simply a child's fear manifesting itself in such an extreme form?"

Windu folded his hands over his chest as though trying to shield from the intense gaze of the Master in front of him. His face, however, remained placid.

"Yoda said he felt it too," he argued none too softly. "Or would you say it was his imagination playing with him?"

Grimacing, Adi turned away from that mocking look and surveyed the waiting room of the Healers' Ward for the fifteenth time in a row. The room was designed to sooth anxious minds – yellow walls, pictures of tranquil waters and sun-washed forests hung out all around. Yet she could find no calmness inside herself. Matters were slowly getting out of hand, and she was keenly aware of it.

It had all started with the appearance of that Sith, with Qui-Gon bringing in the boy from Tatooine he believed to be the Chosen One. And Chosen One he might be – only chosen for what?

Lately Adi had been haunted by a sickly feeling of being led along whatever path had been selected for her, not of her own picking. And she was chained to it, could not stray from it. Helpless. At the mercy of whatever forces were at work. It was infuriating to say the least.

A brief sound from Mace drew her attention to him. He indicated at the hall behind the tall glass doors. "Look who's coming."

Involuntarily Adi's brows shot up at the sight. Manot Rai'ki was the last person either of the Council members expected to see down at the Healers'. The Lamatii Master was renowned for her ability to heal very fast on her own – as well as her strong dislike for healers in general and Temple's healers in particular. Rumors were there had been an accident involving the Healers' Ward when she had been very young and it affected her for the rest of her life. So unless she was injured gravely there was little possibility to see Master Rai'ki anywhere near a medical facility. She was known to arrive to the Healers' Ward only stretched out on a grav-sled, unconscious.

"What a surprise, Master Rai'ki!" Mace greeted her as she passed the glass doors. He had allowed his voice to carry his surprise along with irony.

Manot flung her coal-black thick braid from one shoulder to another and shot Mace a glance that clearly showed she wasn't pleased with him. Her pale yellow eyes flashed in irritation. She sketched a small bow on the verge of politeness and sarcasm.

Adi inclined her head respectfully, greeting her. In her heart the councilor admired this woman. Though rather old in human criteria Manot was energetic and full of vivacity, despite the best efforts of four Padawans she had led through their apprenticeships to knighthood during her ninety-two years of life. Her species more often than not easily reached two hundred years' age, which implied there would be even more Padawans following her guidance. Small, barely reaching Windu's shoulder, Rai'ki possessed a powerful and commanding presence that made even a Council member feel uncomfortable.

With a tinge of gloating satisfaction Adi noted the look of superiority diminish in Mace's eyes. Instead his umber orbs grew darker. He definitely didn't like to be treated the way he treated others, Adi thought with mental snort.

"May I ask what brings you here, Master Manot?" Adi asked.

Unnervingly pale lemon-coloured eyes turned to regard Master Gallia. "Yoda and his weird ideas," Rai'ki replied. "He suddenly decided I should come take a look at the boy… umm… Skywalker."

"Yoda wants you to be his new Master?" Mace was incredulous.

"New Master? And what happened to the old one?"

"He is believed to be dead," Adi explained carefully.

Puce chinks of pupils fixed on Adi. "How long?"

"One day. He's been missing for two now."

"And you have no proof of his death?" Manot half-stated. One of her fine brows shot up, and the black tattooed circle above it jumped, emphasizing the emotion.

"Both Yoda and Anakin sensed him dying."

Rai'ki sighed. "It's going to be hard…"

"There's one more thing," Mace put forth. "The boy is considered to be the Chosen One."

"You mean this is that same boy Jinn dragged in last year? Poor boy has no luck with his teachers… But, enough of this jabber, where is he?"

Mace led her to the adjoining room and showed Manot the area behind another set of glass doors. There was sitting a Mon Calamari healer and a tiny boy next to her. The boy was saying something, the healer listened to him with an expression of thoroughly subdued grief on her face.

"Healer Eerin was Kenobi's friend," Mace clarified.

Adi inwardly cringed at his use of the past term – it still felt wrong to refer to Obi-Wan as someone passed into history.

A skeptical look appeared on Manot's face as she studied Anakin. "How old is this boy? Isn't he too young to be a Padawan yet?"

"He's ten."

"Are you joking?! He doesn't look more than seven."

"Nevertheless, he is ten."

"Oh, joy… And what's wrong with his articulation? Why is he having trouble enunciating words?" She had apparently noted the extra carefulness with which Anakin pronounced every word.

"He is from Tatooine, a former slave. Slaves are not supposed to visit schools," Adi paused, evaluating the other woman's reaction. "Maybe we should better make him an initiate? You don't seem to be eager to teach him…"

"Are you out of your senses?! To make the boy an initiate after he's been a Padawan? They'll badger him."

Resolutely Rai'ki pushed the door open. Both the Mon Calamarian woman and the boy turned their heads at the intrusion. Anakin's face was lined with glistening tears. He wasn't openly crying, doing his best not to show weakness yet could not hold back the tears that silently rolled down his cheeks. Manot stopped at the threshold. Anakin's piercing blue red-rimmed eyes stared at her through the haze of tears. Abruptly, without warning he leapt onto his feet and darted toward Manot with a muffled cry. He hugged the dumbfounded Master, and a few moments later she too hugged his miniature frail shoulders that were shuddering from restrained sobbing.

"Shh, it'll be alright," she said softly.

Anakin lifted his eyes.

"You…" Blush flooded his face. He drew back. "You're not… sorry… I… I thought…"

"You thought what?" Manot's voice held so much of tender concern that Adi could only marvel at the sudden transformation.

"That you… Well, that you are my Mom." He lowered his head in shame.

Gingerly, as though afraid to scare him off, she stroked his hair.

"No, Little One, I'm not your Mom. But I will be your new teacher."

He turned his head upward again and looked her straight in the eye.

"You… Instead…"

"Do you accept?" she asked before he was forced to utter the terrifying word.

Anakin nodded and buried his face in her tunic.

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

"Great performance that was! One of your best!" With these sarcastic words Nais greeted Palpatine who practically stumbled into the shadow-crossed surveillance room. Glowing plates of vid-screens basked him in diabolical radiance. Hushed lights couldn't disperse the gloom that seemed appropriate.

Nais hadn't left the room ever since their last talk. She was leaning back in her chair, appearing casual, but her muscles were tense under flowing silky dress. A part of her shuddered in disgust while the other part marvelled at the Dark Lord's acting skill. The scene she had witnessed via the large screen only minutes ago had opened up a deep chasm of indignation doubled with fear inside her. The helplessness she felt cut her even deeper than usual as she now watched Sidious.

He glared at her, but the look in his discoloured blue eyes held not so much of anger and malice as it had tired irritation flavoured with oily satisfaction. Her sable orbs stared back at him with mocking challenge, although her innards were twisted in an icy frightened knot. Wiping his wrinkled forehead Palpatine all but fell into a nearby chair.

"Poor guy, he actually bought it," continued Nais her acrid speech.

"As he was supposed to." His voice was measured. Nais exploded.

"Of course! First he gets banged over his head! Then you intrude talking your anti-Jedi propaganda, and then you unleash that on him! He's fortunate not to have gone nuts already!" she leaned forward in agitation.

"You should give him a little credit," Sidious replied steadily, and Nais detected something unbelievably akin to fatherly pride in his tone. Startled, she lost her uplift. No, that couldn't be, she had to be delusional.

"And still it almost killed him. Aren't you too hard on your own son?"

Any other time Palpatine would have snapped at her to mind her own business or smiled that cold venomous smile which sent shivers of dread down her spine. But today was the day of great inconsistencies. He only shook his head lazily, stretching in his chair, and rubbed his forehead as if to drive away bone-deep fatigue.

Silence lingered.

"Perhaps it was a bit extreme," he finally admitted without any inflection of guilt in his voice. "But eventually it turned out even better than I planned."

Planned! Planned such a thing!

Suddenly sickened by him, Nais vigorously pushed her chair to the far wall – as far away from him as possible. But her disgust with herself for watching and doing nothing was no less strong, and there was no way she could escape her own self.

A tiny droid rolled into the room and started to relate something to Palpatine. Nais did not listen to the low soft humming of the droid's narrative. Palpatine, on contrary, was all business. Revolting.

Feeling sick, she shut her eyes tight. Immediately the recently beheld scene started to play out before her mind's eye.

The extensive vid-screen provided an excellent view of a round room with black walls. The room with two doors and no windows. Regularly placed glowrods provided illumination. One door was easily visible – colour of ash against dull blackness – the other was undistinguishable from the walls around it.

Nais knew that room and never liked it, could not stand it even. Every time she had been there she had a gnarling feeling of illogical conviction that something horrible ought to happen inside its walls. It reminded her of coffins. And no matter how many times had she tried to get rid of this absurd prejudice, she had never been comfortable around this room.

The otherwise empty area held a low round table with a metal cylinder on top of it and a living creature – Sidious' so-called surprise. Nais had no doubt Palpatine watched the same scene as she did. He was hidden behind that masked door, prepared to play his part.

Nais observed.

The ashy-coloured door slid open, revealing dingy walls of the corridor behind it and a young man on the threshold. He was pale, hair dishevelled. But even on the slightly distorted image of the vid-screen Nais saw hope in his eyes. She swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat. The Jedi looked inside cautiously, then entered. Nais' heart painfully contracted. The act was about to begin. She was powerless to stop it. She could only look on.

"Who are you?" the Jedi asked the creature standing before him with his back to the young man.

The creature turned.

Nais wanted to yell at Kenobi not to believe what he was seeing. She wanted to make him not listen to what would be said – and could not do anything. Gripping the arms of her chair she watched the dumbstruck expression appear on the knight's confused face.

The conversation followed. Heavy premonition rose from the bottom of her very being. Something dark was about to happen…

Cold emerald light of activated lightsaber danced on two stark faces.

"Run!" Nais whispered to the Jedi vainly. "Run!" she cried.

He didn't move. He couldn't hear.

The battle broke out. Nais watched the fight numbly. She knew what was to come. The creature would die.

And die it did.

Kenobi turned deathly pale. He sank to the floor, eyes never leaving the corpse before him, then abruptly stood up.

"I – killed – him." His voice was ghostly, haunted.

Nais' eyes widened as the young Jedi ignited his lightsaber. Her darkest premonitions confirmed, she saw him aim at his own chest.

"Poor man…" a whisper rolled from her insensitive lips unknowingly.

"Don't!!!" The cry was almost inhuman in its intensity. The echoes of it reverberated in the black room.

The Jedi tumbled to the floor as if knocked down by a hurricane. Sizzling, his blade turned off.

Out of the hidden door Sidious came rushing to his son. A terrifying expression twisted his features. Was he afraid?..

"Ah, it seems Kamino is really a very fortunate discovery."

Palpatine's voice jerked Nais out of her memories. Inhaling sharply, she opened her eyes, still shaken. The droid was gone. Sidious was pleased. Steepling his fingers, elbows rested on the arms of his chair, he talked.

"Kaminoans did well. They even surpassed my expectations. A good clone. And on such a short notice. I am impressed."

Nais snorted. "It's only a doll."

"Not quite, my dear, not quite. It had some wonderful and useful qualities: it was an exact replica of late Master Jinn and it had enough brain for me to control it. Pity we'll need to have it obliterated. It looks… interesting with that hole my boy burned through it."

~Yeah, right, very interesting…~ Nais thought grimly. ~You dream of seeing similar holes in every Jedi, not to mention part of the senators – the larger part.~

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

That night Sidious took the captive Jedi – who was still unconscious – off-planet and out of the system to a hidden base.

First rays of waking sun tickled Obi-Wan's skin and brushed a soft kiss over his eyelids. Lilac dawn greeted the young man as he opened his eyes for the first time in three days. He was lying in a heap of creamy-coloured covers on an enormous bed large enough for half a dozen people to have a good rest on. His perceptions tinged with sleep, not fully awake yet, he looked around lazily, not recognizing anything. The unfamiliar place didn't, however, trigger an alarm.

The pentagonal room was richly decorated with dark wooden panels and thick fluffy carpets. An elegant nightstand next to the bed impudently showed mahogany and cinnamon incrustation. A paned open window brought in bittersweet spicy scents of flowers and recently mowed grass.

Obi-Wan's gaze turned outside to the mountains on the horizon – their snow-covered caps were flushed from rising sun. Air was crystal-clear, untainted. Birds dotted sapphire vault of the sky.

With a faint screech an old-fashioned door opened, admitting someone into the room. Obi-Wan didn't turn and made no move to acknowledge the incomer. Enchanted, he stared out.

"Good morning." The voice was cultured, familiar.

Obi-Wan didn't stir. He knew something ugly had happened recently, something that turned his life upside down. But right now memories were blurry, irrelevant. He was in bliss, oblivious, and strived to remain so.

"How do you feel?" The man hadn't left despite Obi-Wan's inattentiveness.

Finally the young man tore himself from the mesmerizing sight and looked at his visitor. Surprise quickly coloured his eyes.

"Chancellor Palpatine?"

Palpatine smiled.

Like a bolt of lightning memories came rushing back, and Obi-Wan froze under their onslaught. White as a sheet he stared at the creature of pure darkness before him.

"Get out!" Obi-Wan growled hollowly.

Sidious didn't move.

"Get out of here, NOW!" Most would have deemed safer to leave being told so in such a voice. Sidious was the different case, though.

"Not before you hear what I have to say."

Obi-Wan turned from him, clutching covers, a mixture of avalanche emotions threatening to overflow. He gritted his teeth.

"You took Qui-Gon from me – twice."

"That I did. And some more. Perhaps you haven't noticed yet, but I had to cut off your mental bonds…"

"What?!" Obi-Wan was looking at the Sith Lord again. "You did what?!!"

"Cut them off." Sidious imitated cutting scissors.

"You couldn't!" Obi-Wan breathed. Closing his eyes, he reached into the depth of his mind seeking the soothing links he had had ever since his early childhood, the links he considered the integral part of his very identity. What he found instead was painful desolate hollowness. All bonds were gone, lifeless. Something in his soul cracked and withered and faded into nothingness, leaving bleak apathy in its wake.

When he opened his eyes again they were dull, lacking their usual lively sparkle.

"You're a monster," he intoned.

"I'm sure of it, my son. In any case, from now on I will be the only one bonded to you. I need to keep an eye on you, after all. Consider yourself officially becoming my son."

"You do realize that there can be no… sympathy between us after what you've done?" Obi-Wan asked, staring at Sidious wearily. Hearing the admission made by the Sith was too much. There was no strength to fight any more, no purpose.

"Of course I'm fully aware of this regrettable fact. But you underestimate the power of certain feelings. After this you will, no doubt, hate me. And hate can bind people to each other no worse than love does." Sidious stood up. "Now I suppose you need some time to think everything over. I, in turn, have some things to tend to. You will stay here until I decide you are ready to leave. And, son, don't try to commit suicide again, or I'll be forced to appoint a guard to look after you."

He walked to the door and opened it. The young man's eyes stayed fixed on some invisible spot before him.

"Nothing would be the same again. There's no return to the old life," Obi-Wan murmured resignedly, barely audible.

But Sidious heard. He wrinkled his face in open disgust. "What a hackneyed dictum! There is no return for anyone – ever. Thinking otherwise is fooling yourself. And my son should not be that weak as to console himself with some envisioned 'return'. Once something is in the past it can never be the same again. All the changes are permanent. You can shift into a new position but you can never go back to the old one. The past is in the past. We may see it or ignore it, we may learn from it or bury it in oblivion – but we have no power to change it."

Having that said, he walked out and shut the door behind himself.

In the room the young man turned his back to the door and curled up in a fetal position.

This is how Obi-Wan Kenobi died and Avayn Palpatine came into existence.

End of part I.