Obi-Wan knew that Tru and Ry-Gaul had been on a series of highly dangerous missions and that Soara and Darra were recently caught in the middle of a fierce interplanetary war. He saw the changes in all the Padawans, how their faces reflected the seriousness of their purpose and the things they had seen. He saw in them the same recognition that he had once faced, as he had come to the end of his years of apprenticeship. You started out as a Padawan thinking you would lead a life of service and adventure, and you pictured your successes to come, not your failures.
Successes could be daydreamed about in a vague way, but failures were more particular. They couldn't be envisioned. With the years you accumulated not only satisfactions but also disappointments and heartbreaking losses.
Imprinted in your memory were things you wished you had not seen. The Jedi path was more complicated than you'd ever dreamed as you polished your lightsaber hilt and yearned to be chosen.
Siri was leaner, if that was possible. Her edge was sharper. Obi-Wan saw less of her humor and more of her frustration.
Ry-Gaul's bleached gray eyes seemed even paler, as if his experiences had leached out the color. Now they were almost white. He spoke even less now. When Obi-Wan had asked him about it, Ry-Gaul had fixed his moon- colored eyes on him and said, "There is less to say."
Soara Antana, oddly, had grown softer, almost tender, with Darra.
Darra herself seemed the same, though the exuberance that danced in her unusual, rust-colored eyes would sometimes shift to a shadowy sadness.
And what of himself? What did his fellow Jedi think of him? He caught sight of his bearded face in the reflection of the windscreen. He was not old. He was younger than Qui-Gon had been when he took him on as a Padawan.
Yet he felt old. In his bones, he felt a strange weariness. It was the concentration of all the effort he placed in vigilance. In watching.
Waiting for something he could not name.
They all felt it. A gathering of the dark side of the Force. They held out their hands, pushing against the darkness, the chaos. They were tired, and they had so much farther to go.
And now, Anakin. He had to count on Anakin's maturity, the integrity of his core. Anakin would forgive him for supporting Ferus. It had been difficult for Obi-Wan himself to admit that Ferus was the best candidate.
Naturally he'd wanted Anakin to be chosen, but something had held him back.
He couldn't have done it if he hadn't felt the times were too
perilous for the Jedi to make a mistake.
In time, Anakin would find acceptance. Obi-Wan was confident this was so, because he knew Anakin so well. He knew that Anakin was struggling now, and he knew that he could not help him. He knew Anakin's better side would win.
To Obi-Wan's surprise, Yoda himself suddenly appeared, gliding in his repulsorlift chair from the turbo-lift. Obi-Wan walked forward quickly to greet him on the landing platform.
"Master Yoda, is something wrong?"
Yoda did not answer him. Instead, Obi-Wan watched as Yoda's gray-blue eyes moved from one Jedi to another in turn, lingering on the faces of the Padawans.
"Felt I did that look upon you all before you left I must," Yoda said.
"And tell you"
"Yes, Master?"
Another pause. Then Yoda leaned on his gimer stick and frowned. "Like Ry-Gaul, I have become. Nothing to say, I have." Now he gazed with great affection at Obi-Wan. "What I would say, know you do already."
And Obi-Wan did. A great dread lay inside Yoda. He needed to look at them in case they did not all come back. He needed to stand here and watch them go so they would know how deeply he felt for them. He wanted to see them off, see the last glint of sun on a wing as they flew.
Obi-Wan nodded.
"Checks completed," Anakin called, and Ry-Gaul gave a thumbs-up.
The Jedi turned to board.
"May the Force be with you," Yoda said. He lifted one three-fingered hand in good-bye.
Chapter Four
The journey had passed without incident. Ferus had kept a delicate distance between himself and Anakin, delicate because he gave distance without seeming to. Obi-Wan appreciated this effort. Ferus had given Anakin space, and that was not easy on such a small cruiser.
Siri came up behind him. "If you check that space chart once more, you're going to burn out the screen."
Obi-Wan spun around in his chair. "It never hurts to triple check."
"It hurts me," Siri said. Her keen blue eyes glinted at him. "All that precision gives me the shivers."
Obi-Wan grinned, then pressed the button for holo-mode. The star chart hovered in the air. "There it is," he said, indicating Korriban. "So isolated that it makes up its own system. Marooned in space, as though the other planets have chosen to hide from it."
Siri sat astride a chair, planting her hands on her knees. "Don't be so poetic. It's just a planet."
"More than a planet," Obi-Wan said, gazing at the chart. "A source of evil that still calls evil to come meet it."
"I don't believe that," Siri said. "It's just a place where some old Sith bones lie."