Chapter Text
The familiar sound of lightsabers clashing together fills the room. Harsh breaths an underlying note to each new hit of blade against blade. Obi-Wan Kenobi’s grunt of frustration is lost under a sizzling hiss coming from his own saber, thrown up at the very last second before he could be hit.
Obi-Wan adjusts his footing, his muscles straining after having been locked in combat for what must be well over an hour straight.
“Again.” Count Dooku’s voice is sharp, his gaze sharper.
Obi-Wan takes in one more breath, this time deliberately slow as he recenters himself back to the opening stance of Makashi and then he attacks. His grandmaster’s saber is ready for him. Dooku dances past his offensive manoeuvres with a practised grace that leaves Obi-Wan looking more like a flailing youngling than the master sabersmith he truly is. He lunges anyway, trying to divert his energy away from the offensive attack into a swift flick from his wrist. Dooku anticipates the feint and has already shifted his weight to his back foot, allowing him plenty of room to run his blade against the Knight's, diverting him wildly off course and providing yet another opening.
Obi-Wan and Dooku identify it in synchrony. Victory dances behind the Count’s controlled expression but Obi-Wan’s lightning fast reflexes already have him twisting mid step, his whole body straining with the effort to ensure that when Dooku’s saber stabs forward, he is already gone.
The Count’s lips purse in frustration when he realises that he hasn’t managed to end this duel as swiftly as he wants. However, that hardly stops the man from pulling back just a fraction to readjust his grip before attacking Obi-Wan in earnest. The Knight scrambles back under the sudden onslaught.
His instincts tell him to default into the same Soresu moves that have been drilled in him for decades, but he catches himself quickly, consciously shifting his attention to follow the far more foreign series of steps that his Makashi classes are currently instilling in him. Half his mind seems to be stuck desperately struggling to remember just which order he needs to follow for a particularly difficult sequence until he’s so entrapped in his own thoughts he wildly overestimates his reach and manages to stumble over his own foot.
“Pay attention Obi-Wan,” Dooku chides, his assault never ending, “You favour your left far too heavily.”
As if to prove his point the Count directs his considerable focus directly onto Obi-Wan’s weaker side. The Knight jolts at the suddenly much closer calls he’s taking. Their lightsabers are a whirling blur of blue against blue. Dooku’s deftly sharp motions contrast drastically against Obi-Wan’s far less controlled swings. To any outside observer it would be blatantly obvious who between them is the true master duellist. If anything it is only Obi-Wan’s own expertise in maintaining such a solid defence that has left him standing against the Count for this long.
“Stop dropping your weight,” Dooku counsels, his breathing a steady, even beat compared to the desperate gasps that have started to escape the younger man, in spite of his best efforts. “And lock your wrists Obi-Wan.”
There’s no time for him to roll his eyes, no time to banter or counter his grandmaster’s sharp comments. Still, Obi-Wan diverts just a little more attention to fixing his stance, his arm steadying under the Master’s direction.
“Good.”
Obi-Wan takes Dooku’s mild praise with a brash grin. Their blades lock onto one another, another burning sizzle of ozone spreading through the air before Obi-Wan mimics that flick of the hand Dooku had used against him earlier. The Count seems surprised by the move, his lightsaber drifting to his side and leaving just a sliver of a crack in his impenetrable defence.
Obi-Wan darts for it. He lunges, the very last reserves of strength in his body pushing him forward for this one chance. Both his feet are soaring through the air as the man flies towards that tiny gap.
There’s a blur of movement and then Obi-Wan feels the air pushed from his lungs as he lands sprawled onto the floor.
“Ow,” He groans.
Blinking owlishly Obi-Wan peers up to the ceiling above him, wondering just how he ended up here. A silhouette emerges into view before clearing up into the face of his Grandmaster staring imperiously down at him.
“Well done Obi-Wan.”
The Knight reaches up to accept the proffered hand, letting Dooku pull him to a sitting position. All too soon the fresh bruises he already knows are forming beneath his skin make themselves known. He groans again.
“You held out longer than before,” the Count observes mildly. He doesn’t even have the decency to look winded. Rude.
“I suppose all these lessons must be good for something after all,” Obi-Wan says, propping himself up onto one knee before fully standing. He hisses quietly to himself at the burning pain that races down his side. That’s what one gets for being flung to the floor and not even having the decency to catch yourself before falling, he supposes.
“You are of course still far from a master of Makashi, I needn’t remind you.”
“Of course,” he echoes with a roll of his eyes. In the months since Dooku agreed to start training him, Obi-Wan has gotten quite used to being reminded just how far from ‘competent’ he is in his grandmaster’s eyes.
Dooku is certainly not the kindest teacher, but anyone could see that he is a very good one. Under the Count’s tutelage Obi-Wan’s saber work has excelled far beyond what he’d ever thought possible. He is already far more controlled and deliberate with every movement, a deadly precise force to be reckoned with. Conveniently his improvement in Makashi is also bleeding into his practices with the other forms, elevating his skills in nearly all areas.
Sometimes Dooku will even throw in a criticism for him to work on for the other forms while they practise Makashi, as if he can see through Obi-Wan’s weaknesses so clearly that he can already estimate exactly where the Knight would be lacking elsewhere. It is humbling to know that Dooku can read his flaws so efficiently even when he isn’t witnessing them first hand, in retrospect their toying duels together throughout the Clone Wars have taken on a whole different context for the time-traveller. One surprise outcome of their listens though is that Obi-Wan can now eagerly join in with Qui-Gon’s usual grumbling about Dooku’s particular brand of teaching.
Speaking of Obi-Wan’s master, Qui-Gon Jinn chooses right that moment to step into the dojo they’d booked for the afternoon. Immediately he sees the state of Obi-Wan, hunched over with hands on his knees trying to get his traitorous lungs to start functioning properly, and then sees his own Master who stands next to the Knight, nary a hair out of place, and promptly laughs.
Again: Rude.
“Another fine training session, I take it?” Qui-Gon calls as he steps into the room properly.
“Of course it was Master,” Obi-Wan huffs indignantly as he straightens “what’s brought you here?”
“Ah, aside from witnessing the miracle of seeing someone actually defeat my padawan?” Qui-Gon’s smirk is duly ignored by said padawan, “I’m mostly here to say goodbye.”
Obi-Wan and Dooku both jerk to attention at that, peering at Qui-Gon in matching confusion.
“Another mission?” Obi-Wan doesn’t try to hide the surprise in his voice, “But you just got back.”
“Indeed.” Dooku echoes, though even his shock can’t be fully muffled under his solemn baritone.
Qui-Gon shrugs good naturedly, “So it seems.”
“Where are you off to now then?” Obi-Wan runs a hand through sweaty hair, absently noting just how badly he needs to shower after this latest fight but not willing to miss the limited time he has left with his master.
“I don’t know yet. I’m headed to the Council now to get my orders. Master Windu indicated I’ll be shipping off immediately after.”
Obi-Wan swallows his disappointment. He and Qui-Gon had planned to head into Coruscant’s lower levels together tomorrow. Nowadays it seemed rare that they were both on planet at the same time and Obi-Wan had been determined to make time to spend with his Master in this new timeline. A goal which he’d succeeded with to some degree, but frequently seemed to be obstructed from more often than not.
Not to mention that it was actually far more difficult than he’d like for Obi-Wan to escape out into Coruscant’s depths like he wanted to. He had a few ongoing appointments to keep outside the Temple and it was already hard enough to take an innocent stroll off Temple grounds without Mace staring reproachfully after him and muttering about shatterpoints.
Regardless, the news that Qui-Gon would be off planet again was disappointing but not altogether surprising. He’d been getting put on missions rather frequently since Naboo and Obi-Wan’s knighting. Both he and the Council were keeping their reasons pretty hush hush but there were two main methods Obi-Wan had to figure out just what was happening.
First was of course that he happened to know his Master very well and Qui-Gon was a rather opinionated man who had always struggled to keep his inner thoughts quite as inner as he probably should. So Obi-Wan had been able to read between the lines of his words fairly often in the last few months and make a few deductions that at least pointed him in the right direction.
His second strategy was that it turns out the High Council didn’t change their access codes very often.
When Obi-Wan had tried his old passcodes from his previous timeline he’d honestly done it out of a fruitless sense of duty. He would’ve been far too mad at himself if he hadn’t at the very least crossed it off his to-do list so one afternoon he’d wandered down to the archives, holed himself up at the most secluded terminal and started typing.
If he didn’t have quite so many ongoing plans that benefited greatly from unfettered access to the Council’s files he would’ve marched up to them then and there to demand an increase in cyber security immediately. Unfortunately doing that would’ve certainly resulted in an immediate revocation of his current access so letting the Council in on this particular oversight wasn’t quite worth it just yet.
Still, just because it benefited him didn’t mean Obi-Wan wanted their files left quite that vulnerable to anyone else who might have less than noble intentions. So one of those ongoing appointments he now has out in the depths of Coruscant is with a master hacker who, for a not insignificant fee, is teaching Obi-Wan how to more securely encrypt the Temple’s data servers. In exchange for not speaking a word to anyone about what they are working on, Obi-Wan keeps managing to “forget” to mention all the blatant illicit goods he sees stacked around the hacker’s home. Overall it’s actually a pretty good arrangement if you didn’t mind a bit of blissful ignorance vis a vis blackmarket trading.
So now the Council’s files are more secure than they’ve been in years… aside, of course, from the prying eyes of one particularly paranoid Knight who would be digging into Qui-Gon’s mission report just as soon as he has gotten that shower he so desperately needs.
He tunes back into the conversation between Qui-Gon and Dooku just in time to hear them discussing his ongoing progress at Makashi.
“I’m just saying he’s already better than almost anyone else in the Temple.” Qui-Gon defends exasperatedly.
Dooku sniffs imperiously. “It is a wonder he has managed that if your tutelage is satisfied to settle at just ‘better than others’.”
“And what standards are you comparing him to, huh?”
“I am comparing young Kenobi’s progress against his own potential, Qui-Gon. Perhaps he would not have abandoned your precious Ataru in favour of the more refined Makashi if you had fostered his expertise there too.”
“Alright,” Obi-Wan interrupts the two masters with a sigh, “You’re both very talented and good at teaching me. Now, aren’t you both a bit above trying to one up each other over me by now?”
The two men before him have the grace to both look mildly embarrassed to be caught up in what is frankly the most bizarre pissing match Obi-Wan has ever seen.
He really hadn’t anticipated the sheer level of passive aggressive showmanship his master and grandmaster would have for each other. It was even more absurd when he had first realised that what those men seemed to want to brag about most was… him.
There’d been a handful of pointed comments from the Count the first few times he’d come to the temple, generally directed towards not-so-subtle acknowledgment of just who Obi-Wan had come to for help. Then there was the return of Qui-Gon managing to reinterpret any achievement made by the Knight as a clear indication of his supposedly renowned skills as a teacher. Altogether it was a bunch of nonsense but Obi-Wan didn’t find himself trying all that hard to stop their foolish posturing. Honestly it is far too fun to have time as the three of them, united in all the strange nuances that come with a lineage.
More and more when the three of them come together, there would be flashes of moments - mere fractions of a second - where Obi-Wan can feel that same unity he had found in another life when it was just him, Anakin and Ahsoka all together. An unspoken unity.
At least this time these Jedi before him are far less concerned with any determined efforts to make Obi-Wan go grey before his time. Instead Qui-Gon and Dooku are busy making their own astoundingly emotionally repressed goodbyes.
Obi-Wan can almost imagine he sees Qui-Gon genuinely debate giving his old master a hug, though he would have been a far braver man than thought possible if he actually went through with it. Instead he offers the Count a quick nod and turns to his wayward ex-apprentice.
“Don’t get into trouble while I’m gone,” are his incredibly sentimental parting words.
Obi-Wan scoffs, “I never get in trouble.”
Both men before him raise a silent eyebrow in pure disbelief. He almost wants to point out just how synchronised that movement is but Obi-Wan would prefer not to be maimed for daring to point out similarities between the two of them, thank you very much.
“Padawan-”
“Not a Padawan anymore.”
“-I’ve known you many years and in all that time you have never ceased to impress me with just how talented you are at attracting trouble to your side.”
“I learnt from the very best Master. So I suppose I should now be telling you not to get into any trouble without me there to bail you out.”
Qui-Gon concedes his point with a wry smile, “Fair enough. How about neither of us get in trouble then no one has to worry?”
Dooku pipes up, dry humour leaking through every word, “Neither of you in trouble? Will wonders never cease.”
Qui-Gon huffs under his breath, though Obi-Wan is certain Dooku caught it.
“Farewell Obi-Wan, don’t let the old man work you too hard.”
“No promises, Master.”
“Ah. That is exactly what I was afraid you would say.”
-
Dooku doesn’t stick around long after their lesson has ended, begging off early so he can return to the Senate where he had been practically living for the last two months straight, constant hearings and meetings and all manner of political nonsense has kept the man stuck planetside for far too long according to the Count.
Admittedly, it has been working out rather well in Obi-Wan’s favour to have his grandmaster so close and so permanently on Coruscant’s- well, not soil, the city planet had little to no soil left to actually speak of. But Coruscant as a whole then. Not only does Dooku’s presence ensure a more regular training schedule to persist, letting him hone his skills nearly twice a week if they are lucky, but it keeps the man close for observation.
They haven’t talked much about Dooku’s near-fall since Obi-Wan’s first proposal to train together. Once or twice Obi-Wan has caught the older man trying to subtly manoeuvre their conversations into tripping Obi-Wan up to reveal anymore of the foreknowledge he’s referred to. Still, it isn’t too much of a strain for the Negotiator to deftly sidestep those topics or turn them back into his own interrogation of the Count’s current activities. After nudging Dooku into admitting he hasn’t seen Sidious since they first spoke, the man seems to have finally given up on his prying, resolved to wait for Obi-Wan to deem him trustworthy enough to learn more.
More and more often now that patience seemed to be fraying at the edge. The Count has been making far more frequent references to needing some proof of results from Obi-Wan’s insistence that change is on the horizon. That the Knight’s assurances that he is addressing the Sith’s plots has any actual merit. Frankly, the fact that Dooku is currently holding an actual conversation with him, and that his eyes aren’t a sickly yellow or his saber a blood red apparently isn’t proof enough of Obi-Wan’s influence is somewhat astounding. At the very least it does serve to reassure the time traveller that not all hope is lost, even if the Count has higher expectations.
Then, of course, there is the matter of the Senate.
Obi-Wan has been keeping a close eye on the Senatorial proceedings since he awoke in this new timeline. On the one hand politics is awful and he has never had the temperament for it. On the other hand, this is a matter of galaxy-wide life and death so his temperament doesn’t actually get that much of a say at all.
Since Valorum’s little trip to Naboo there has been a massive upheaval in the Senate which Obi-Wan is at least eighty six percent certain can be blamed primarily on the frequent complaining of Naboo’s own Senator: Sheev Palpatine. Fallout from the Trade Federation’s occupation of the planet has been repeatedly blocked for numerous ‘mysterious circumstances’ which Obi-Wan will happily blame him for too. Then there’s been the increasingly persistent rumblings of whether a Vote of No Confidence should be called for the Chancellor after all.
At this point most of what Obi-Wan has gathered is that Palpatine is very much still seething from not having gotten the position during the Naboo occupation when he was most optimally primed to receive those needed sympathy votes. But now that Valorum has proved himself at least semi-competent as a leader, Palpatine has been left with no other option than to invest far more time in this ground-up campaign to destabilise the man’s political foundations even whilst manufacturing some other scenario to oust him from power.
Of course that last bit is speculation but Obi-Wan has been watching his movements as closely as he can through the holo-news and it's the only play that makes sense to him. More than that though, Obi-Wan has been spending his time in meditation trying to pierce through the foggy veil of the Dark. The path before him is still clear enough in the broad strokes: don’t let Sidious rise to power, keep the Galaxy from war, don’t tell everyone you’re from the future.
One problem that keeps tugging at Obi-Wan’s continued worries about the Sith is the simple fact that now that Obi-Wan blocked his rise to Chancellor, he’s left the Sith with far more time to plot and scheme far from the public eye. Without the very visible duties of a chancellorship to keep the man busy, there is little that Obi-Wan can do to keep a close watch on just what the Sith does in his own time. He’s done his best to check in with Padme as frequently and subtly as possible about how Naboo is faring after its blockade, and specifically how her senator has been handling the fallout.
Most of her reports veer on the side of excessively neutral to his eternal chagrin. Though Padme hasn’t been stingy with the details, the simple fact is that she has very little to report about her Senators political or personal movements. As she has been handling the renewed trade routes across her planet, and the new Gungan alliance she’d fostered, and the semi-frequent meetings he knows she’s been taking with Bail and a few other trusted planetary leaders; Padme Amidala quite simply hasn’t got the time to spare to chase Palpatine around. Particularly when the man has made himself so deliberately uncontroversial as to be not worth the Queen’s trouble at the best of times.
Instead, the Nubian Senator has been spending much of his time on Coruscant without her direct supervision which is not exactly a surprise, it’s more just wildly inconvenient to Obi-Wan. Palpatine has been making himself increasingly known amongst the Senators, logging in a fair few private meetings and attending various councils that don’t go to public record so Obi-Wan is left speculating on their true intentions. Yet for the most part Palpatine’s movements are exceptionally difficult to track, and harder still if one hypothetically wanted to do so without him noticing their attempts, which mostly just leaves the unbearably dull public recordings of various Senate hearings that no one in their right mind would want to watch.
Which of course means that’s exactly what Obi-Wan has been doing. As of late he’s been watching with rapt attention as Sidious has clearly been roped into posing multiple challenges against the authority of the Trade Federation and its unsupervised autonomy across the galaxy. It is nothing short of fascinating to watch a Sith Lord have to publicly criticise the political manoeuvrings of his own pawns that he’d directed into the very place of opposition against his own planetary delegates. Oftentimes Obi-Wan will play a little game with himself to see if he can correctly guess which words that escaped the Senator’s mouth came from Padme’s earnest attempt at promoting democracy or from the man’s own political machinations as he attempts to reset the playing field as discreetly as he can. It is not always a particularly fun game.
When not occupied at the Senate doing his actual job, Palpatine remains exceptionally difficult to trace. His public appearances are frequent enough and so middling in their excitement that it is doubtful anyone in the galaxy is spending more than the absolute bare minimum amount of time considering just who Sheev Palpatine is in his personal life. He does not show up at restaurants or frequent any particular bars or public spaces. He has no hobbies, no events, no obligations outside of his work hours which only serves to infuriate the time-traveller.
Despite his attention being targeted on the movements of the Sith, Obi-Wan truly cannot uncover where the man goes, who he is talking to, what clandestine meetings he takes or which sinister plots he is unfurling within the shadows. No matter what foreknowledge he has of the future’s eventual endgame, just how Palpatine came to set all of his plans into motion remains just as shrouded in darkness as before, even if this time Obi-Wan finds himself staring right into the shadows.
And still Darkness is creeping in.
Sometimes the Force seems to whisper to Obi-Wan. It tells him to watch. To listen. To pay attention because soon . Soon there will be danger. Sometimes, he even imagines that whisper has come to him on a breeze of light, an impression of the ethereal being who set him down this path letting him know she’s still watching. That he’s not alone.
-
“Ah, Obi-Wan, what a surprise to find you here.”
The Knight in question looks up in surprise.
“Master Nu,” he says, blinking owlishly.
Jocasta Nu stands before him, hands on hip and a wry smile tugging at her lips. Obi-Wan looks past her out into the vastness of the dark archive around them and-
Wait. Dark?
“Oh. It’s night.”
Jocasta snorts a very un-ladylike laugh, “Ah, noticed have you?”
Obi-Wan looks back to the terminal in front of him, the half dozen datapads he’s been working from seem to have scattered themselves around the table he’d claimed for himself what he had thought was only an hour or two ago but seems to have been… well rather a lot more than that.
“Sorry Master Nu,” he says sheepishly, willing the surprised flush in his cheeks to please go away now thank you very much, “I’ll just clean up-”
“No, no,” Jocasta says with a fond sigh, “You certainly needn’t stop on my account. I just thought I’d come here to remind you that most species who favour the sun will likely be taking this opportunity to head to bed now. You know,” she smiles down at him, “If that’s the sort of thing you might like to try one of these days.”
“I do sleep,” he says not-at-all petulantly, “Sometimes.”
“I’m sure you do.” Her tone is indulgent and not at all convincing. “Shall I leave the lights on in this section just in case you decide tonight is not a night to try it out?”
Obi-Wan wants to stay. He’s been reviewing the Council’s files for hours already, trying to figure out why they’ve been sending so many Knights out on missions to such unusual locations for months now. As best he can tell the Council has started a rather sharp increase of diplomatic missions being sent to the types of planets where Jedi are rarely seen. If he remembers correctly a fair number of those planets ended up siding with the Separatists during the Clone Wars which make them odd contenders for Jedi missions. He’d been temple-bound with a new padawan the first time around so he cannot confirm whether or not these missions were taken in his prior life, and if they weren’t: what that then means for this one.
There are still plenty of cases put forth by the Senate still, which the Jedi have been responding to as usual, but Obi-Wan keeps finding his attention drawn back to the odd assignments that are taking more and more Knights out into the less friendly corners of the galaxy. He would give just about anything to get to attend Council meetings himself again, just to see if they really are responding to the changes he’s made. Or perhaps if now that he has confirmed for them that Maul was only the Sith’s apprentice, then perhaps they’re making a more active effort to seek out the master?
It’s impossible to tell yet, not without tipping his hand regarding his slightly less-than-permitted perusal of Council records.
If there’s one thing to be grateful for though, it’s that he’d just switched back to reviewing the holo-news right before Jocasta’s arrival so she at least has no idea what he’s been researching, as is made abundantly clear when she leans over his chair just a little, readjusting the spectacles he rarely ever sees her wearing as she peers down at his screen.
“A vote of no confidence? For Valorum?” She hums thoughtfully, “I was rather under the impression the public was in favour of the Chancellor. Particularly since he made the reparations trip to Naboo so recently.”
Obi-Wan diligently ignores her pointed stare. They both know the Temple rumours that Obi-Wan is the one who convinced the Chancellor to assist in person during the Naboo invasion, despite his many - and passionate - protests that Queen Amidala is really the one who managed that. Of course why should a Temple full of Jedi listen to him when they can instead fill their time gossiping about his apparently unparalleled skills in convincing all politicians to do whatever he wants?
Most recently he’d overhead a few initiates confidently assuring each other that Knight Kenobi is the one who convinced the Duchess of Mandalore to become a pacifist in the first place. For Satine’s sake and his own he was quick to squash that particular rumour. So now of course the initiates like to tell each other that he was solely responsible for introducing the very concept of pacifism to the galaxy. Great.
“Valorum is in a pretty fragile position,” Obi-Wan muses to the Jedi Archivist, pushing himself back in his seat to allow her a better view. “He gained a lot of goodwill in joining us against the Trade Federation but now people are starting to question just why he had to go in the first place.”
“In what way?”
“Well the corruption mostly,” Obi-Wan shrugs then promptly ignores the loud crack coming from his stiff bones when he does so, “The Senate’s been rumoured to be under the thumb of people just like the Trade Federation for decades, and they’ve only gotten worse since Naboo. Now it’s coming up on a year since the blockade and there’s been no real consequences for anyone. Everyone is convinced that Chancellor Valorum hasn’t actually fixed anything except he’s pulled the covers back just enough for people to get a glimpse of just how much is wrong under the surface. It’s getting harder to ignore.”
Jocasta nods along with his words even as she scrolls through his most recently collected articles curiously. He has no doubt that she heard every word though, he’s not enough of an old fool to doubt Jocasta Nu’s ability to read and listen and still manage to think circles around half the Temple’s inhabitants in her sleep.
“They expect him to root out the corruption himself?” Her tone is deceptively mild as she clicks through to the next article. Obi-Wan bizarrely feels like he’s getting tested, though he doesn’t know what for yet.
“It’s easy to place the blame wholly at his feet. The more people learn that corruption has festered under his watch, the quicker they are to blame him for all of it. He’s been the public face of the Republic for too many years for most folk to even know how to dissociate him from everything it stands for.”
“And you agree?”
“With which part?”
“That he is what has allowed the corruption to fester?”
Obi-Wan scoffs tiredly at that. “Oh no. The Senate’s problems run far deeper than all that. Valorum might have good intentions but he hasn’t really tried to fix what was already broken when he took that seat.”
“You sound rather confident about that Knight Kenobi.”
“Well, yes.” He peers at her, curious about her strange tone, “The Trade Federation was already making moves on the Senate before he took his seat. The banking clan too, and the techno union. Not to mention how many Senators have been taking increasingly large ‘campaign funding’ donations over the last few decades. A lot of it is on public record.”
Jocasta’s brow furrows at that, her wrinkled face only serving to accentuate the move.
“If this is all as public as you say then why do you suppose the Chancellor has not resolved these issues?”
“Because even if information is available, not everyone knows how to piece it all together. To see the bigger picture - not until it’s too late.”
“Too late?” she looks back at him, “You sound rather pessimistic about that Knight Kenobi.”
He offers her a tired smile that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes, “We’ve all been far too comfortable simply knowing the information is out there, rather than feeling any need to check on it ourselves, for too many years I’d expect, Madam Nu.”
Her nose wrinkles at that, mildly affronted. “It is important to ensure that the knowledge is there, Knight Kenobi. That way we can ensure that future generations will have as much access to it as we do now.”
Obi-Wan deliberately doesn’t think about how the only future generations he remembers consist of a farm boy on a half forgotten planet and a princess hidden in plain sight, neither of whom knew they were the sole successors to a freshly lost civilisation.
“You’re absolutely right; it is important that we collect all this for those that come after us,” he sweeps a hand out to indicate the hallowed halls stacked full of datapads all around them, “But there will always be knowledge missing from a collection, and new insights to be gained from looking at what we already have in a new light.”
Jocasta straightens haughtily. “I think you’ll find that if an item does not appear in our records, it does not exist.”
Obi-Wan crooks an eyebrow at that. “Are you sure?”
“I most certainly am.”
Obi-Wan debates with himself for a few moments as he gathers the last of his datapads to himself, shutting off the terminal as he does. Well, he’d been meaning to get to this at some point anyway so, decision made, Obi-Wan turns back to the mildly offended archivist before him.
“In that case, Madam Nu. I would suggest you look through the Jedi archives for our records on the planet Kamino.”
“I’m not familiar with that system,” she says tentatively. A curiosity, or perhaps suspicion, clouds her expression as she looks at the Knight standing before her, “But I look forward to learning about it. From our archive.”
He smiles ruefully, well aware of what her search will result in. “And I look forward to hearing what you learn.”