Obi-Wan

Tonight, Bail told him. This wildest of wild cards, this princess who was hiding so much, was meeting with the Chancellor tonight. Obi-Wan got the encrypted message just before walking into the Council chambers, and it shook him enough to make him stop still. But it was more than that-more than him and his fears and uncertainties. That small, intense voice in the back of his head, the one that was seeming less like instinct and more like a completely different person, was devastated and alarmed at the development. And...angry? He paid attention for a moment. Why are you angry? he found himself asking, wonderingly. He'd known she was planning this.

Protect her, said the voice, this time as a rebuke.

She can handle herself, Obi-Wan retorted, and discovered he believed it. Which was odd, wasn't it? If Palpatine was a Sith-and an extraordinarily powerful Sith-who could stand against him alone? Particularly one who, even if she had Force ability, could only be untrained?

She can handle herself but she is not safe.

The voice was livid. And terrified. And the realization hit Obi-Wan like a punch in the gut. This was no inner dialogue.

This voice didn't just seem like a completely different person. It was a completely different person. In his head. Talking to him.

Who are you? Obi-Wan demanded.

The voice didn't answer.

"Master Kenobi," the young Padawan at the door said, urgently. "They're waiting."

Obi-Wan found it hard to focus as he walked into the chamber. Anakin looked peeved. You've been gone a long time, he said silently to Obi-Wan, his voice piercing like arrows through his former Master's skull.

That was it, Obi-Wan realized. That was why he hadn't paid much attention to the other voice at first. It seemed familiar, a normal tone in his mind. It reminded him-sideways, not completely, but enough-of Anakin.

Seven hells and all the gods. What is happening?

"The Princess Chume," he heard himself saying, "is here against the express wishes of the Queen Mother. She's a daughter-in-law, the wife of a son, still valuable but not as valuable as a daughter, and it seems she has her own mind."

The words, not fully of his own making, pulled him back into the room. Mace leaned forward, intense and interested.

"Her own mind?" Mace asked. "Then perhaps...we could meet with her?"

Think, Obi-Wan. His stories were getting hard to keep straight. Was he supposed to have met with her? Would it be more beneficial to make Bail seem like the intermediary?

Then again, if he was the only person among the Jedi whom she was willing to meet with, he could see her again. The Jedi would want him to keep the contact going.

"Bail made the introduction for me today," he said. Truth was best, at least as close to the truth as he could get. Anakin gave him a shocked stare. The other Masters kept their expressions neutral; he realized, pained, that they trusted him, more than he deserved.

"She is, as to be expected, thoroughly Hapan in her perspectives," Obi-Wan said, choosing his words carefully. "I did make overtures to have her come to the Temple and was rejected outright. But…" Here he paused. This was it, the point at which he tested whether their trust would hold. "Masters, I do not understand it, but she did seem intrigued by me. I assume it's because she's seen me in the holos, but I sense that I am still welcome. It is a delicate circumstance, to be sure. But if you are willing, I could see if I can persuade her to withdraw her claws a bit, as it were."

Stony silence. Mace in particular looked unenthused. Anakin looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Are you saying," Ki-Adi Mundi said, "that she is...er...drawn to you?"

Obi-Wan felt his face getting hot. That was not what he'd intended to communicate. Certainly someone could be intrigued by a Jedi without...attracting. It was not attraction he sensed.

Sure, said the voice, shades of Anakin's snark, the foreignness and familiarity unsettling.

"I-I do not know," he stammered. "I only know that she was not as hostile to me as I was expecting."

Yoda held his hands out, a peace-making gesture. "It is not of your doing, Master Kenobi. It is the will of the Force that we have been given such an opportunity." There was a glint in his eyes that Obi-Wan tried to figure out. Mischief? That didn't make any sense.

Mace's head swiveled, and his intense stare at Yoda wasn't hard to read. They weren't on the same page. The Force was saying something to Yoda that it was withholding from Mace.

"Then," Mace said, spreading out his hands, "I suppose we must wait."

It was always unspoken, the end of a Council meeting. But this one felt particularly unresolved. There was grumbling among the Masters as they filed out, and Mace grabbed Anakin by the arm-Anakin shooting Obi-Wan a pleading glance-likely for a conversation about Anakin's ever-increasing absence from the Temple.

In a matter of minutes, Obi-Wan stood in the empty chamber.

Almost empty. Yoda tapped his foot with his cane.

"Sit, Master Kenobi," he said, not unkindly. Obi-Wan sank gratefully into his seat-it had been a long day on his feet, he realized. Yoda sat across from him, legs crossed.

"Hear him too, you do," Yoda said, in a tone so casual it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize what he was talking about.

"The voice." Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "I-you're hearing...him?"

"Him," Yoda said. "Listened closely this last day, I have. Found me last night, he did. Searching, he was."

Obi-Wan felt chastised, though he knew Yoda didn't intend it that way. The voice had been speaking to him all day and he'd dismissed it. If he'd only paid attention, maybe it-he-could have shed light on...whatever in the seven hells was happening.

"Who is he?" he asked, curiously reaching out to the Force. He sensed that vaguely familiar presence in the back of his mind, waiting, silent. He-whoever he was-was listening.

"Know not, do I," Yoda said, closing his eyes briefly. "Tell me, he will not. Tell me what he is searching for, he will not." He opened his eyes. "But focused on this Hapan princess, he is."

Obi-Wan hesitated. "He...he wants me to protect her. She is...making dangerous choices."

Yoda's eyes narrowed, but he was not Mace-he would not press Obi-Wan to tell him more. He had lived long enough to know that he did not need to know everything. In this, Obi-Wan felt he had earned his trust.

"Strong in the Force, he is," Yoda said softly.

Like Anakin. "He reminds me of someone," Obi-Wan said carefully. The presence in the back of his mind seemed-pleased?

"Of young Skywalker." Yoda was matter-of-fact. "Yes, I sense it too. Like and unlike. The anger is more under control."

Lots of practice, the voice said, and Obi-Wan knew as Yoda met his eyes that they'd both heard it.

"Who are you?" Obi-Wan asked again, aloud. "We are here to help-just tell us what you want."

Not all help is helpful, the voice said. This is the deep breath before the plunge. I cannot know what the right move is. Yet. But I am grateful you are allowing me to speak, to be there in spirit if I cannot yet be there in person.

Yet?

Yoda tapped his cane on the floor. "Afraid, you must not be. Trust us at the right time, you must."

Brief silence. Then-I will. You do not yet know it, but I have much reason to trust.