His Guiding Star (Obi-Wan Kenobi)

Chapter Twelve

Viola sat alone in her quarters, legs folded underneath her as she focused on clearing her mind. Her instincts had been on high alert, lately, warning her that something bad was about to happen. It was not the first time the twelve-year-old had felt fear, but it was the first time it had been so suffocating.

Just do the opposite of what Anakin would do, she reminded herself, letting the soft, warm feeling of the Force enter her small body. She loved Anakin, but, really, he was terrible at controlling his emotions. With Anakin, when it came to dealing with overwhelming emotions, he simply gave up. Viola didn't need the Force to know that was wrong.

Obi-Wan, meanwhile, tried to do everything all on his own, so as not to burden anyone. He had allowed himself to grieve Satine, but denied himself the comfort of others, for fear that he would be considered weak and selfish. 

Viola wondered if that was because he had almost been rejected by the Jedi Order when he was of age to be a Padawan. No one had wanted him, and so he would have been sent away to live as a farmer had Qui-Gon not taken him in (albeit reluctantly). No wonder Obi-Wan always blamed himself for things.

Viola knew that wasn't healthy either. And so, she kept her eyes closed and allowed herself to feel the full weight of the fear. As the Force willed it.

"What do you want to show me?"

She kept her breathing even, letting her body relax as she focused on the Force. The fear faded and her mind cleared, a vision coming into sharp focus in her mind.

She was...right there, in her quarters. Viola felt herself stand, looking around her rooms. It was eerily quiet. Something was wrong. She went to the door, her hand hesitating as it hovered over the doorknob. Whatever it was, she was certain she didn't want to see it. But the Force had a clear urgency to it. She'd never felt that before.

Her hand curled over the doorknob and she opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. A deep, sickening horror rushed through her at what she saw and the vision retreated, leaving her alone in her quarters and trembling violently.

Yoda was also meditating on the Force when a knock sounded on the door to his quarters. He could easily sense who it was, even when everything else was clouded by the Dark Side. That quiet, steady Force presence. He would know it anywhere.

"Come in, you can, my Padawan."

The door creaked open and, sure enough, he heard Viola's footsteps approaching him from behind. She paused, hesitating.

"Master, I have news."

He could tell by the gravity in her tone that it was not good. Nothing that usually filled their gossip sessions over tea.

"Asleep, you should be," he pointed out. "What news, hm?"

He felt her hesitate, never moving from her place behind him.

"The Force showed me a vision, Master," she lowered her head, gnawing at her lip. "I saw the downfall of the Jedi."

Yoda bowed his head, a sharp pang of grief striking his heart. From Viola's sudden intake of breath, he knew she felt it too.

"As the Force wills it."

"No," Viola shook her head, taking a quick step forward. "It can be changed, Master. I can feel it. Talia...she and her crew will play their part. We just need to play ours."

Yoda chuckled softly, wryly.

"So simple is it, hm?" There was a pause.

"Master, that's not like you."

For a girl like Viola, that observation was hard to say aloud. Yoda had always encouraged her to speak her mind, and she did so now. But, in saying this, she was challenging him. Yoda remembered the nightmare that Obi-Wan had relayed to him not long ago, of the massacre of the Jedi. Both he and Viola were refusing to accept this ending, standing up against the Dark. A quiet, shy little Padawan and a seasoned and weary Jedi Master who, nevertheless, would not see their loved ones suffer.

Yoda wondered why it was that the two of them could see past the Dark that covered everything, hiding such happenings from the Jedi. Why had the Force chosen them as the receptors of its wisdom?

It was not for him to know, only for him to trust in them and follow the will of the Force.

Even at two in the morning at the end of the week, when they were meant to be sleeping.

Still, Yoda was not one to give up on his loved ones either. Not the Jedi, the children, he'd spent centuries raising. No, he couldn't see that be obliterated into nothing. In this, Viola was much wiser than he. Or more foolish. Time would tell.

"Sit," he commanded, offering her some herbal tea from the still-warm pot in front of him. "Tell me everything, you will."