Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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It was rare, but not unheard of, for it to snow on Coruscant. It usually only fell when the planet's weather matrix was acting up again, some sort of complicated variable repeating in error until the temperature dropped severely in the upper atmosphere. The ground was too warm for it to accumulate, unfortunately, but the falling flakes made for a pleasant view behind the Baron Jasper Stargrain of Stewjon. He was a big man, both wide and tall, and had a massive black beard that he wore with its strands woven together like a basket. He wore the modern attire that was favored by the Stewjoni elite, a high-necked black tunic that fell to his knees and matching loose pants, with the addition of a blue-green tartan cape draped over one shoulder.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder which Máor-Grasta clan he'd pilfered it from.

"Thank you for seeing me, Masters." The portly Baron bowed.

"Received your missive, we did." Yoda tapped his gimmer stick upon the floor. "Troubling news, you bring."

"Indeed I do, Master Jedi." Baron Stargrain's gaze dropped, despairing. "My heritage may be Stewjoni, but I was born in Dunay-Jinn and have lived in this great city for my entire life. We have entered dark days, my friends. Darker than even the Great Darkness, and this time there is no rogue moon to blame."

"A militia, you mentioned in your missive."

"Aye." The Baron's mouth tightened to a thin line. "They began as a well-intentioned militia, but they have devolved into a terrorist cell of extremists. Evil deeds are being done by these young men and it breaks my heart to see it. Laird Aid-Han Moridak's son, Do-Nal, is their Warchief."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What is their goal?"

"To harass the Stewjonis into leaving the island of Máor-Grasta. The militia formed in the first place to handle a violent wave of hate crimes targeted towards Máor-Grasta citizens that—shamefully, I might add—the Stewjon government did nothing to stem. Once the attacks stopped, the militia… turned. It started with minor property damage, theft, general harassment towards the perpetrators and their defenders—petty crimes, nothing violent—but they've escalated quickly. A week ago, the owner of a Stewjoni tea house was dragged into the street and beaten to death, then his building was burnt down with his family and customers still inside."

Obi-Wan's stomach turned to knots at the thought of a fire in the cramped city. "I don't know that 'quickly' is an apt enough term for that level of escalation. What was the motivation behind this attack?"

The Baron shifted in place, uncomfortable. "I try not to speak ill of the dead, but I shall not lie. The man who was murdered was loudly and proudly prejudiced against the Máor-Grasta. His tea house was built upon the ruins of a stone circle, and he showed… a less than sympathetic attitude for its destruction."

"A stone circle?" Master Plo Koon asked.

"An ancient site of star worship for the Máor-Grasta," Obi-Wan said. "Most of them were destroyed to make room for Stewjoni housing." He didn't sound nearly as bitter as he felt, thankfully. He felt no personal connection to the religion of his ancestors, but the destruction of the circles was a cruel attack upon a culture that had managed to survive almost two thousand years of forceful erasure.

"Callous, but not deserving of murder," Master Luminara Unduli's hologram said with a grimace.

Master Mace Windu looked troubled. "Dunay-Jinn is densely populated. They could have killed many more by setting that fire."

"Indeed." Master Shaak-Ti's hologram appeared to be reading something in front of her. "Eight million residents on a nine-hundred square kilometer island is quite claustrophobic."

"After the planet was hit by a rogue moon two hundred years ago, most of the planet's population retreated to the island of Máor-Grasta," Obi-Wan explained. "It was the only clear sky that remained on the planet. Through the use of a weather matrix the skies have cleared completely, but not many Stewjonis have shown interest in moving back to the main continent."

"Understandable," Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "They consider it their home after so many years, and I imagine it is still recovering from the impact."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Indeed, but unfortunately that is where the indigenous population of the planet was forced when the Jonis first arrived thousands of years ago. There is no other region of their own planet where the Máor-Grasta may rule themselves. After the Great Darkness, the mass immigration to the island led to the Stewjon government declaring Dunay-Jinn their second, supposedly temporary, capital, but there has been no move to return. Máor-Grasta sovereignty has been compromised for almost two centuries, it was only a matter of time before the inevitable pushback."

The Baron held up a hand. "I sympathize with the plight of the Máor-Grasta, Master Jedi, I truly do. But I, and virtually all of my compatriots, were born here after our great-grandparents came as refugees. My wife—may her Grace forever guide me—was Máor-Grasta, as are our daughters. This is my home as much as it is theirs."

Obi-Wan was a Jedi first and a Máor-Grasta man second. He bit down the urge to argue and took a deep, calming breath, centering himself in the Force. "It's a nuanced issue, Baron, I agree," he said congenially.

"Do-Nal's militia has issued a formal declaration stating that anyone with Stewjoni blood is trespassing on ancestral Máor-Grasta lands, but at the same time they have decried the outbreaks of violence and attributed them to outliers amongst their ranks. They're denying it, lying right to our faces. Do-Nal… I watched him grow up. I'd bet my right leg that he is ordering these attacks, but even on the slightest chance that he isn't, we need your help ending the terror of his militia. I have known Laird Moridak my entire life. He's a reasonable man that desires harmony and has both publicly and privately denounced Do-Nal's actions. I know he can get his son to sit down and negotiate."

"So you believe Do-Nal can be reasoned with?" Mace asked.

"I do. There must be a compromise that does not involve a mass exodus of people to a continent that is barely habitable, not to mention one that most have never even seen."

Master Yoda nodded solemnly to the Baron. "Emissaries, we will send. To Stewjon, the Jedi will go, and with Do-Nal, negotiations will be overseen."

"Thank you, Grandmaster." Baron Stargrain's hologram bowed and flickered away.

"Well, I believe the question of who to send is obvious," Kit Fisto quipped, his hologram bobbing slightly in place.

Mace met Obi-Wan's eyes. "Besides your Máor-Grasta heritage, you are the most acquainted with the history and politics of Stewjon."

Obi-Wan casually crossed his leg and propped his chin on his fist. "You don't think it a conflict of interest?" he asked, raising a brow.

"To side with violence, your blood urges you?" Master Yoda quipped, his mouth squinching into a smile.

Obi-Wan shook his head, chuckling. "Not particularly." He sympathized with the goal and original purpose of Do-Nal Moridak's militia, but the answer was not—and could never be—cold-blooded murder.

"Then a conflict I see not. To the Republic, your allegiance lies, but speak the language, you do, so go you will to Stewjon."

"If I may make a suggestion," Master Plo spoke up, raising one talon. His mask and eye guards were off; he had to be sequestered in the Dorin gas chamber of his cabin on The Triumphant II. "Master Kenobi is not the only Jedi who speaks Máor-Grasta. Padawan Ahsoka Tano studied the language independently and speaks it well."

"She should accompany you, then," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "No one will expect a Togruta to know the language. She may overhear information not meant for her ears."

"Montrals," Shaak-Ti corrected with a small smile.

Obi-Wan kept his face neutral, pretending he wasn't dancing with joy within. A chance to take Ahsoka on a mission without Anakin—not that he didn't love his Padawan, of course, but Anakin had been glued to his hip for a decade and it was time to start peeling him off—and not just anywhere, but to his home planet? It felt like a mission designed just for them. "I'm sure she'll be an asset," he said calmly, already making plans in his head on the places he was going to show her. He knew she was going to love all of the odd, rubbery, unseasoned fish and offal dishes his people were so fond of.

He'd taken two trips to his home planet with Qui-Gon and one with Anakin. With the exception of sweets, the culinary traditions of his people were the one thing he took no delight in.

"I agree," Plo said, pleased.

"Then settled, it is." Yoda tapped his gimmer stick once more. "And adjourned, we are."

Plo glanced at Obi-Wan and winked right before his hologram disappeared.

"What do you mean I can't come?" Anakin looked devastated sitting on the floor of his quarters, droid parts scattered around him in a circle.

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anakin, you have gone with me on every single peace treaty, trade negotiation, and hostage recovery for the last decade. And I already took you there once! It's Ahsoka's turn."

"But she's my Padawan!" Anakin whined. "She should accompany me while I accompany you to the negotiations, not just the two of you!"

"This isn't a leisure trip, it's a mission, and you don't speak Máor-Grasta!" Obi-Wan said, exasperated.

"Yes I do!"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Dh'fheuch mi ri do theagasg. Dh'fhàillig mi."

Anakin blinked a few times. "One more time, a little slower."

"Anakin…"

"Come on, I do speak it! Not great, but—"

"You are far too old to whine like this, Padawan."

"Knight." Anakin flicked a screw at him, scowling.

Obi-Wan redirected it back with a gesture and bonked him in the forehead. He sensed jealousy, but he couldn't tell what he was actually jealous about; was it that Obi-Wan was taking Ahsoka away from him, or taking her instead of him? Either way he clearly felt excluded. "I'll bring you back butter fudge," Obi-Wan offered.

Anakin paused, another screw hovering midair. "And licorice fizz," he said decisively.

Obi-Wan shuddered. How Anakin could stomach the stuff, he had no idea, but he'd drunk an entire case of it on their visit when he was sixteen. His teeth were black for a week. "It's banned for export, Anakin."

Anakin scoffed. "For sale, not for personal use. I checked."

"Fine. One case."

"Ten."

Obi-Wan snorted. "Three!"

"Seven."

"Five."

"Deal." They shook on it.

"Now where can I find your Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.

Anakin turned back to his doodads on the floor. "She's training with Rex at the barracks."

"Training? What kind of training?"

Anakin smirked. "You'll see."

Barracks for the clones had been put up in a hurry on Coruscant. It was understood that with Kamino being so far away, there needed to be some place in the capital for the troopers to go on the rare occasion that they weren't deployed. Located beside the shipyards, the buildings were unused Kuat manufacturing plants that had been converted into trooper housing. The 501st, as one of the smaller battalions, was housed in what was once a Kuat office building; generously donated along with the large manufacturing plants in exchange for a neat tax break and cancellation of penalties for moving their operations to Corellia. It had the benefit of a small outdoor courtyard, refitted overnight by Anakin's men as their PT zone.

There was a speeder garage across the skylanes where Obi-Wan parked. As he walked across the open skybridge connecting the two buildings, the resonating, ear-piercing crack! of a sniper rifle rang out. He almost jumped out of his skin.

"General!" The trooper on security duty—a shiny with no recognizable paintjob—popped to his feet like he had springs on his heels. He snapped to attention and saluted.

"What in the blazes was that?" Obi-Wan asked, concerned.

"Not to worry, Sir." The shiny's face twitched with a repressed smile. "Target practice is all."

"Outside of a range?" Obi-Wan shook his head and inserted his code cylinder into the lock. "Nevermind. Have a good day, Private." He hurried through the security doors, down the stairs, and ducked into the courtyard to see what was going on.

The troopers were all in full armor and clambering through a homemade obstacle course. There was a rope wall, munitions crates arranged in a pyramid, a few balance beams and hurdles. What had once been a flower garden was now a laser-crossed low-crawler, complete with mudpit. And Captain Appo was dragging an unconscious Fives off to the side to join a pile of other unconscious troopers—Jesse and Hardcase, if he was remembering their paintjobs correctly. Snow had begun to accumulate on their plastoid backs.

Spotting Obi-Wan, Appo immediately dropped Fives. "ATTEN-TION!" he roared, snapping into a perfect salute. All around the courtyard, the men froze in place—several at the peak of an obstacle—and snapped to attention. One fell down with a yelp and immediately popped back up, his hand never leaving his brow.

Obi-Wan saluted back. "At ease, gentleman." He belatedly realized he'd never said the words out loud to the shiny on the skybridge and hoped he wasn't still up there, stuck until he was released by another officer.

"Echo, drag your good-for-nothing meatball of a brother off the course before he gets stepped on," Appo barked, stepping over Fives to meet Obi-Wan. The boys resumed their obstacle course in the background. "What can I do for you, General Kenobi?"

"I was looking for Commander Tano. I don't suppose you know where she is?" Obi-Wan peeked around Appo's shoulder to watch Echo drag Fives. He made it to the edge of the chalked line in front of the other unconscious troopers before a blue bolt sent him flying into the duracrete privacy wall. He bounced and landed on top of Fives in a heap, out cold.

"Woo-hoo!"

Obi-Wan craned his head back to look straight up at the tiny figure doing a very familiar victory dance on the edge of the roof. "Ahsoka?" he called up, his voice cracking in surprise.

"Master Kenobi!" Ahsoka yelled back, waving excitedly. "Hold on, I'm coming down!"

"No, littl'un, use the lift!" Obi-Wan heard someone—Rex, presumably—yell at Ahsoka's back, too late to stop her from flinging herself from the roof's edge in a swan dive.

She did a few somersaults on the way down and landed in a crouch, grinning madly, holding a sniper rifle that was as long as she was tall. "Hi, Master!" She tucked the weapon behind her on its strap and dove into his open arms.

"Hello, mo nighean." Her montrals were cold. She smelled like salt and snow and amber, and she purred when he squeezed her. It was adorable, but not enough to distract him from what she'd been doing. "Why do you have that weapon?" he asked, drawing back.

"Rex is teaching me sharpshooting!" she said, grinning so wide that the tips of her fangs poked out.

"But why are you shooting at your men?" he asked, bewildered.

Ahsoka shrugged. "It was Rex's idea. He said there's no better target than a moving one."

"Oh, good grief." Obi-Wan shook his head.

"It's okay, they're just stunners! They're actually less powerful than the ones they all use on me—"

"The ones they all what?" Obi-Wan asked sharply.

"Oh." Ahsoka blinked rapidly. "Master Skywalker didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Ahsoka's pupils expanded until there was only a sliver of blue. "It's for saber practice, Master, please don't be mad. There's no other way to learn how to deflect blaster bolts than… well, by deflecting blaster bolts. It's part of my morning katas, I pull one of the guys aside and practice deflecting. They haven't gotten me in weeks, I'm getting really good at it!"

Obi-Wan relaxed. "Oh. The way you said it, you made it sound as if you were facing a firing line."

Ahsoka threw her head back and laughed. "Can you imagine?"

"Ah, well. I've news for you, my dear. You are to accompany me on a diplomatic mission to Stewjon."

Ahsoka trilled supersonically with delight. "Really?" She clapped her hands and danced in place, unable to contain her excitement.

"Yes. So go pack for a week. It's cold there, so make sure you bring a heavy coat. We leave tonight."

"Tonight!" Her jaw dropped. "Okay. Did you tell Master Skywalker first, or should I just pack him a—"

"Anakin isn't coming, dearest. It's just the two of us."

"Just us?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that… is that allowed?"

"Of course it is. You already accompanied Master Luminara Unduli on a mission, did you not?"

"That was a Padawan exchange, Skyguy got Barriss for a week."

Obi-Wan snorted. He'd done an exchange with Siri and Ferus when Anakin was thirteen. It had been a blissful week—for him, at least. Siri had sworn off exchanges for good afterwards. "Well, I had planned on getting a new Padawan a few months ago, but as my first choice was taken I've no one to exchange." Obi-Wan booped her nose with a smile. "I've already gotten permission from Anakin."

"Okay! I'll go pack!" She hugged Obi-Wan again, squeezing him tight. "Thank you, Master!"

Rex jogged out of the stairwell, scowling. His eyes slid from the little Togruta and onto Obi-Wan; he stopped and saluted. "Sir!" he barked.

"At ease," Obi-Wan said again, beginning to despair of military protocol.

Ahsoka slipped out of the oversized weapon's sling and handed it to the clone captain. "I gotta go, Rex. Thanks for the lesson!"

"Any time, Commander." He put the rifle up on his shoulder and watched her run away with a smile.

"Did General Skywalker ask you to do that?" Obi-Wan asked, eyes flicking down to the weapon with distaste. It wasn't as if he was untrained in its usage, but there was something unnerving about seeing his little girl with such a big rifle.

"No, General, this was a request from the Commander." Rex's cheeks darkened. "He's aware, though, and he approves."

"Hm." Obi-Wan gave him a tight smile. "And Ahsoka learning to deflect blaster bolts by being shot at—was that your idea, or his?"

"His, Sir," Rex said immediately, blanching. 'Gedet'ye ne'tionir beh redal be'jun.' Rex's nervous thought echoed in the Force and into Obi-Wan's metaphysical ear. The captain exchanged a nervous look with Appo.

Obi-Wan kept his face neutral. "That sounds like Anakin, yes." Both of the troopers relaxed. Obi-Wan nodded goodbye. "As you were, then."

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Redal bajun; now why would dance practice make Rex so nervous?

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Once, when Ahsoka was six, she wandered away from her clan at free time and toddled into the Halls of Learning. Somehow she broke into the herpetology laboratory—no one at the time could figure out how she unlocked three different doors and eight years later she couldn't remember—and found herself face-to-face with a big black dras lizard with a rainbow frill. Delighted by the colors, she liberated it from the laboratory and hid it under her bed for a week in a dishpan, carefully feeding it worms with a pair of chopsticks, pacifying it with her Empathy. When Vereixem inevitably found it, he spirited it back to the lab with Ahsoka bawling and begging him to keep it the entire way. She remembered being convinced they were going to dissect it for some reason. The Agricorps Jedi were so touched by how much the Togrura youngling behind the mortified Crèchemaster had cared for its well-being that a few weeks later, once they were done studying its venom, they gave the lizard back.

She named him Kento after Kento Koi, the Nautolan superhero from a Pantoran cartoon series. Since no one else had the courage to get too close to Kento's cage in the quiet corner, she hid Qui-Gon's diary and datapad there and studied it late at night when nobody could stick their nose over her shoulder and ask what she was doing. She studied the language on her own for years, and though it was slow-going she kept at it because it was her only way to hear Master Obi-Wan's voice again. He had included a recorded pronunciation guide with the dictionary and diary, and she guarded them like an akul with a fresh kill, terrified that Crèchemaster Vereixem would find them and take them away. Late at night, tucked between Kento's cage and the wall, she would quietly read to herself and listen to his recordings, repeating both new and familiar words that felt like thick, round pearls in her mouth: Fuar, fuar, tha iasg reothadh fuar. Teth, teth, tha iasg teine teth. Tha gaol agam ort mo nighean.

When she was first told that Anakin and Obi-Wan weren't coming back, it felt like her heart had been ripped out and shredded. Losing her clan in one fell swoop put her in a black cloud of grief-pain-loss that took months to find her way out of. They put a feeding tube down her nose that she ripped out at every opportunity. Master Vereixem had been so concerned that he petitioned the Council to at least let her have visits with Obi-Wan—according to Master Plo, Master Shaak-Ti had gotten into a screaming match with Masters Yoda and Ki-Adi-Mundi over it that culminated in a cracked Council chamber window, an uncharacteristic and scandalous display of emotion that had the Temple gossiping for weeks—but the damage was already done, and so the majority voted that it was best they continue apart.

She knew Obi-Wan and Anakin were nearby and safe through their Force bonds, and though they never reached back to her, she made the feeling of knowing enough. As long as she could feel them they weren't really separated, just apart. She didn't really remember much of that time, just the impression of sadness and loneliness. Eventually her heart scabbed and scarred over. She stopped trying to reach out to them through their Force bonds and let them wither away into dry, atrophied cords.

The Obi-Wan that sat across from her now looked so different from the Padawan Bobi that lived in her memories. He wasn't old like Anakin kept teasing, but every time she looked at him she couldn't help but seek out the dimples hidden under his luscious beard. His hair was long, almost reaching his shoulders, and more auburn than she'd realized when she was little. She desperately wanted to play with it and see if it was as soft and thick as she remembered, not really having had the opportunity to do so since Christophsis.

Before the war, the Republic had an entire fleet of consular cruisers that they used to transport Jedi around the galaxy. Nowadays the only consular cruisers that hadn't been retrofitted into medical or cargo transports were the ones privately owned by diplomats. Baron Stargrain didn't have his own cruiser, unfortunately, but he had paid for a first-class voyage for Ahsoka, Obi-Wan and Cody on a Stellanova Starliner. They had their own private cabin complete with a holoprojector, a dejarik table, and a Rodian steward that kept them flush with snacks; so far Ahsoka had enjoyed the little marble bowls of pink caviar and Mon Cala polar oysters served atop shaved ice the best, though Cody had made a face at them and polished off the sliced fruit salad.

Obi-Wan's idea to bring Cody along as security surprised Ahsoka. She still wasn't quite sure what to make of the clone. They'd only met twice before and both times their interactions were strictly professional—she knew he had to be a good man, being Rex's ori'vod and all—but while his natural aura was a warm, sunny orange and he cracked the occasional dry joke every now and again, he was even more stoic and serious than Rex had been when they'd first met. He sat beside her and had his boots propped up on the seat beside Obi-Wan while he read through a scouting report from Felucia that looked boring.

A quiet knock came from the door. Their Rodian steward slid it open, holding two long-stemmed glasses of something blue and bubbly on a round tray. "We will be exiting hyperspace soon, Master Jedi." He spoke in a whisper, like he was trying to not wake a baby. "Can I interest you in some champagne before you depart?"

"Is it from the Champagne region of Souliman?" Cody deadpanned without looking up from his datapad; despite his tone, his aura was rolling with bright-gold hilarity.

The Rodian steward looked taken aback, his aura greening with confusion-surprise. "This brand is from Corellia, and is rated at—"

"Then it's sparkling wine, not champagne," Cody continued in a voice drier than Tatooine.

Obi-Wan accepted the glasses and handed one to Cody, his aura turning vibrant gold and shivering with humor. The Rodian dipped out of the room with a bow, still green with confusion and a little red offense.

"Didn't take you for a wine snob," Ahsoka quipped.

"I'm obviously not." Cody's lips twitched. "Just wanted to see what he'd say."

"Can I—" Ahsoka reached for Cody's glass.

Cody held it above her head without looking away from his datapad. "Absolutely not."

Ahsoka scowled at him, and with a thump of her rear lek she refocused her attention towards the game. She leaned forward, sitting up on her knees, and put her elbows on the dejarik table. Obi-Wan had three pieces still in play while she only had two. If she wasn't careful she was going to lose the fourth game in a row.

"Think about not just this move, but the next two," Obi-Wan advised her. "You've only a houjix and k'lor'slug left."

"Yeah." Ahsoka bit her lip. Committing to her move, she sent her k'lor'slug in to assassinate Obi-Wan's ghhhk.

Cody grunted; his eyes never left his datapad, but his sunny-orange aura was pale gold with amusement.

Obi-Wan's light blue aura shone soft green with curiosity. "Interesting choice," he said, regarding the pieces. "As the ghhhk is a scout, I receive an extra move upon its death…" He moved his savrip forward two spaces. It picked up her k'lor'slug by the neck, a pathetic little squeal escaping as the brute shook it.

Ahsoka sagged. "I just lost, didn't I?" she asked.

"Yep," came from Cody.

She half-heartedly sent her last piece forward to confront Obi-Wan's molator. It ripped her houjix in half and tossed the pieces aside with a triumphant roar. Obi-Wan turned the table off. "What do you think you should have done differently?" he asked.

"Gotten your savnik off the table first," Ahsoka said. She pillowed her chin on her hands, trying not to be a sore loser. She had been playing dejarik on her datapad for weeks, why wasn't she better at it yet? "That's why you got rid of my strider first, right?"

"The brute pieces are the most powerful, and while they can only move one square at a time, they can instantly kill any piece. Sending the k'lor'slug was a good idea, but to assassinate a brute the predator must approach from the opposite direction the brute is facing and—"

"I did," Ahsoka protested. Her rear lek swished side-to-side out of frustration.

"And be at full health," Obi-Wan continued patiently. "You'll recall that it took a hit in the second round."

She had not, in fact, recalled that. "So should you always try to get rid of the brutes first?"

"Not always. Sometimes it's better to keep them on the table if you can keep your distance. Other times, you need to rid yourself of them as soon as possible. It all depends on how aggressive your opponent's playstyle is. Remember, Padawan, dejarik is about anticipating your opponent's moves, not reacting to them."

"I know," Ahsoka said, trying not to sound sullen. She wasn't a baby, she knew how dejarik worked. She just wasn't good at it.

"I know you know." Obi-Wan's gray-blue eyes twinkled. He turned the board back on. "So let's start over."

Cody nudged her in the side. She leaned in. "Go for his molator first," he whispered against her montral.

Obi-Wan watched them, green suspicion and golden amusement swimming around him. "What are you two whispering about?"

"Just helping the youngling out with a bit of strategy, Sir," Cody said mildly, returning to the report that had him so enraptured.

Ahsoka's rear lek swished again. "Not a youngling," she grumbled, and ignoring Cody's smirk, she activated her guardian piece and sent the m'onnok forward to challenge Obi-Wan's molator. Her piece knocked his down to half health with a swipe of its claws.

Obi-Wan's aura went milky-white with surprise. "That's a… bold opening." His savrip stepped forward one square to fend off the attack.

Ahsoka sucked in a small, excited breath. Obi-Wan probably didn't mean to put the brute in the direct, open path of her predator piece, but she snatched her opportunity and set her k'lor'slug on it before it could escape. She cackled as the little hologram took its brutal revenge for the previous game, stabbing the savrip in the back with its needle-like stinger.

Obi-Wan laughed. "Well done, Cody."

"Hey!" Ahsoka's voice pitched up, offended. "He didn't tell me to do that, that was me!"

"Slàinte, mo nighean, it's always wise to take the advice of your officers into account before entering any battlefield." Obi-Wan folded his hands under his chin, turning pensive green. He moved his ghhhk three squares to the right. "An cleachd sinn Máor-Grasta? No a bheil thu deiseil?" Shall we practice Máor-Grasta? Or are you ready?

Ahsoka nodded, grinning, and moved her k'lor'slug out of the scout's attack range. She could definitely use some practice with the one who actually spoke it, not just his book.

"An do rinn thu sgrùdadh leat fhèin?" Obi-Wan asked. You studied alone?

Ahsoka nodded. "Chan eil Plo math air," she said glumly. Plo is not good at it. Poor Master Plo had tried very hard to speak it with her, but his mouth just didn't move that way.

"Tha mi uabhasach moiteil asad, Padawan. Chan eil e furasta ionnsachadh leis fhèin." I am very proud of you, Padawan. Learning alone is not easy.

Ahsoka's stripes turned warm. "Thug e orm amannan sona a chuimhneachadh," she said softly. It made me remember happy times.

Cody cleared his throat, tinged chartreuse with annoyance.

"Are we bothering you, Cody?" Obi-Wan asked.

Cody's lip curled up. " 'Course not, Sir, just thought I'd give Commander Tano a heads up."

Ahsoka raised a brow marking. "A heads up to what?"

"He's about to get your strider."

"He's—" Ahsoka looked back down at the board and realized that while they'd been chatting, Obi-Wan had been easing his ng'ok into position to assassinate her kintan strider. "Master!"

"Cody, I can't believe you'd betray me like this." Even as Obi-Wan shook his head, his aura flashed bright gold.

"Sorry, Sir." Cody's eyes flicked to Ahsoka's briefly. "It's protocol to watch out for the smallest and weakest member of the squad. It's why—"

"Oi!" Ahsoka squawked over Cody and Obi-Wan's laughter. He reminded her of Rex when he laughed the way he did now, with his nose scrunched up and his eyes almost closed, airy and quiet like he was afraid of being overheard.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but before he could say anything the overhead lights dimmed. A gentle knock sounded on their cabin door and their blue-scaled Rodian steward poked his snout through the crack. "We have just exited hyperspace," he whispered, bowing his head. "We anticipate landing in five minutes." He slipped his nose out as quickly and quietly as he'd inserted it.

Obi-Wan turned the dejarik table off, much to Ahsoka's dismay. "Time to pack up, then."

"But I was ahead!" she protested.

"Oh, were you?" Obi-Wan asked blithely. "We'll play again later, don't worry."

Ahsoka crossed her arms and harrumphed. If Obi-Wan thought their game was over just because their commute was, he had another thing coming.

"Come, now, bundle up instead of pouting. It's cold out there." He passed her fur-lined poncho over.

Ahsoka struggled into it gracelessly. "So where are we going first?"

Obi-Wan's aura turned violet with regret. "I had hoped we could do a bit of sightseeing before the negotiations, but it seems that there's a blizzard ready to overtake the island. We'll likely be stuck at Jasper Stargrain's barony until our departure."

"Aww." Ahsoka found the hole and got her head through. She peered out the transparasteel window down at the planet; most of it was white and icy, broken up by dark ocean mostly near the equator. A white cyclone hovered near what she presumed was the island of Máor-Grasta. It hadn't yet made landfall, but it wouldn't be long.

"What's a barony?" Cody asked.

"An estate. They're few and far between due to the land shortage, but there's still a few parcels that haven't been eaten by urban sprawl. Grain farms, mostly. Before the Great Darkness, the land that Stargrain now owns—"

"Occupies," Ahsoka mumbled under her breath.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan gently admonished her, though his aura flushed with a delightful blend of copper affection and golden humor.

"What? It's not my fault you filled my impressionable young mind with anti-colonization rhetoric."

Obi-Wan's aura went white with shock, then right back to gold. "I did no such thing," he said with a sniff.

"So is that why he's called Stargrain?" Ahsoka asked. "Because he produces the grain for Grasta—I mean Stewjon?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "No, his land's being used to grow buntàta."

"Buntàta?"

"It's a root vegetable. Stargrain owns a distillery and makes poitín with it."

"Poitín sounds like a Máor-Grasta word," Ahsoka said, frowning. "So does buntàta."

"They are Máor-Grasta words. Poitín is a traditional Máor-Grasta spirit, and buntàta is the only thing that reliably grows in the mountains—or used to grow before the Great Darkness, at least. The climate is different now."

"So let me get this straight: Baron Jasper Stargrain is a Stewjoni who owns a bunch of Máor-Grasta land, uses it to grow a Máor-Grasta vegetable, makes a traditional Máor-Grasta liquor out of it and profits off it, but the actual Máor-Grasta people have to live all squished on top of each other in Dunay-Jinn?"

"Almost everyone has to live in Dunay-Jinn, my dear, there's not much room left on the island."

"There'd be more room if Stargrain wasn't using it all to make booze."

"Ahsoka." Obi-Wan smushed her cheeks together. "Behave."

"Just getting my facts straight before we land, Master," Ahsoka said through squashed lips.

"Our own personal biases are not relevant, Padawan," Obi-Wan said. His aura flared gentle copper again; he liked calling her Padawan. He said it like a term of endearment. "We are here as Jedi. As peacekeepers. We are not here to restructure the Stewjoni" —he emphasized the name for her benefit— "government. We are here to oversee the diplomatic process that will dissolve Do-Nal Moridak's militia. That's all."

"So we're supposed to just ignore the obvious injustice going on?" Ahsoka asked, sagging. "But we're Jedi! We can't turn away and pretend we don't see people who need our help!"

Obi-Wan's aura darkened with a purple ribbon of sadness. "We keep the peace, my dear, and I would hate to start another war when we're still so busy with the first."

"But—"

"No, Ahsoka." Obi-Wan smiled down at her with a hint of purple. "I understand how you feel, but we have our instructions from the Council."

"Fine," Ahsoka said reluctantly. "But Master Skywalker would let me."

"No, he wouldn't."

"Yes he would."

"To be fair, Sir, he probably would." Cody finished the champagne off before putting on his bucket.

Obi-Wan put his hands on his hips. "Listen, when you're back under the supervision of Master Skywalker and he gives you permission, you can overthrow the government. But right now I am supervising, and I say no. Do you understand, Padawan?"

"Yes, Master." Ahsoka waited until Obi-Wan had opened the cabin door and ducked out, then she yanked Cody down to her level. "If I do have to overthrow the government you have my back, right?" she muttered.

"Obviously, Commander," Cody said with a fond pat between her montrals. "Rex would never let me hear the end of it if I didn't."

◿♢◺

Chapter Text

◿♢◺

In Master Kenobi's defense, he had warned Ahsoka that it was cold. She just hadn't anticipated the dampest, most bone-chilling cold that she'd ever experienced, the kind that snuck inside her clothing and stole the warmth from her marrow in a way that even frigid Ilum hadn't. The entire walk—starting from the docking ramp, all the way through the spaceport, and finally out to reception—was spent plastered against Obi-Wan's side underneath his cloak, shivering violently and trying to absorb his heat.

What little she could see through the brown fabric was… less than impressive. The Stewjoni people seemed to be very fond of angular shapes, and everything within the spaceport was made from a combination of metal, glass, and unpainted duracrete. Their design choices matched their fashion; everyone was dressed in black, favoring high-necked tunics that went to the knee, loose pants and furry gray overcloaks. To add to the uneasy sameness of it all, everyone was bald. Circlets made of silver wire peeked out from under their furry gray hoods. The only real differences were the facial tattoos that they displayed, lines and dots in patterns that Ahsoka knew must have a meaning in such an orderly society.

It was uncomfortable, all of it, and cold. Not just physically, but emotionally. Ahsoka wasn't fond of crowds in general, given how overwhelming so many auras in a tiny area could be, but here she felt like she was surrounded by droids, except even droids were friendlier. Nobody looked at them despite their radically different dress, and when they did it was as if they were looking through them.

"Why are they all dressed the same?" she asked Obi-Wan.

"Wearing flashy, bright colors is viewed as one trying to draw undue attention," Obi-Wan answered.

"They'd fit right in on Kamino," Cody mumbled.

Obi-Wan's cheek twitched with a tiny smirk. "Modesty and humility are very important to the Stewjoni people. You won't easily find a braggart among them."

"Is that why they shave their heads?" Ahsoka asked.

"Indeed. Hair is a vanity, thus unbecoming."

A line of black repulsorlimos and luxury speeders waited in the open-air reception port, each with their own stony-faced pilot holding a sign with a name on it.

"Welcome to Stewjon, Master Jedi." Their driver was a middle-aged Human man, bald like the rest, pale-skinned with a pale turquoise aura. His hood was off. Ahsoka subtly examined the tiny spirals tattooed across his dome and wondered what they signified. He opened the door and waited for the three to clamber inside before rushing around to the front.

"Is it winter, or is it always this cold?" Ahsoka burrowed back into Obi-Wan's side, seeking his warmth like a nuna chick.

"It is winter now, yes, but it's colder here because we're on the coast. It's not so bad inland."

"That's where we're going, right?"

"Indeed. Baron Stargrain's estate is in the center of the island."

Dunay-Jinn was a packed, dense city, but it didn't have the skylanes that Coruscant did. Their limo navigated the crowded traffic at walkway level, slow and stopping constantly at traffic lights. Snow was starting to fall, the blizzard that Ahsoka had seen from orbit having finally made landfall. The imposing, brutal structure of the Stewjoni architecture seemed to loom over them with its harsh, angular lines and cold, industrial facades, silhouettes made all the more harsh by the gray daylight. The obviously older Máor-Grasta buildings that had survived the takeover were the opposite; half the height, cozy, made of warm pink granite and dark wood. Most seemed to be either pubs or little general stores, murals painted on their windows with strategic blank spots for visibility and round table sets for sitting outside together. They felt warm, familiar, welcoming; Ahsoka got the impression that she could walk into any of them and be greeted with a hearty hug and a warm meal. Despite being there first, they looked like little mushrooms that had popped up amidst the glass and durasteel.

As the limo traveled further from the spaceport and deeper into the city, the Stewjonis hustling about became fewer and farther between until they completely disappeared from the walkways, replaced with a few pops of color that stood out in contrast against the snow. Ahsoka was finally warm enough to scooch out from Obi-Wan's side and press her face against the window. "They aren't in black," she said. "Are they Máor-Grasta?"

"They are." Obi-Wan nodded with a thin smile. His aura wiggled with beige unease and violet sadness.

Ahsoka's eyes locked onto a woman with long auburn hair that peeked out from under her blue hood like a waterfall of dewberry juice. She was dressed in colorful clothing, mismatched garments that looked to be cobbled together for the sake of function instead of style. Her heavy skirt looked like it was made from an old patchwork quilt. The woman stopped in front of a droid with a spiralized wire atop its head glowing red and held her gloved hands over it. "Why is she out in this weather?" Ahsoka asked. "Why are any of them?"

Obi-Wan smiled wanly. His aura grayed with pale violet grief. "They're likely homeless."

"But the storm—Master, it's a blizzard! They can't all be out in this! What do we do?" She reached for the door handle; they could at least let the woman warm up in the limo for a few minutes, couldn't they? And there was plenty of food in the little minibar, it wasn't like they needed it—

Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on hers and pulled it away from the door. "There are emergency weather shelters set in place. They'll be taken care of, if by no other virtue than the fact that you and I are here." His smile thinned further, his aura greening with bitterness. "Can't have people freezing to death in the streets in full view of a Jedi, after all."

Ahsoka slunk back to her seat, full of helpless anger and nowhere to put it. Her rear lek swished irritably. "I wish Baron Stargrain hadn't sent a limo," she grumbled. She crossed her arms and slumped, ashamed of how she had partaken in the luxuries of the flight to the planet when so many of its people were in need of help. She felt gross, complicit, like the Stewjoni Baron had tried to bribe her with oysters and she had stuffed herself full of them like a stupid little otter. "I hate to see suffering when I know there's nothing I can do to change it for the better," she said.

"I know. You have an enormous heart, Padawan. It's one of the many reasons that you will be a magnificent Jedi." Obi-Wan's aura sparkled with rich copper affection.

They took a right turn and entered a tunnel; upon exiting the bustling city was gone, replaced with a row of towering duracrete buildings that lined an empty highway. Their boxy forms loomed overhead, cold and stark as icebergs, a thick layer of snow sticking to the facade. The uniform rows of small windows seemed to stare down at Ahsoka like a thousand little eyes in an emotionless face.

"Apartments," Obi-Wan answered before she could ask. "Primarily Máor-Grasta, yes. These buildings went up during the Great Darkness for Stewjoni refugees, originally, but over the course of two hundred years their occupancy… switched." The line of towering apartments abruptly gave way to rolling, snowy nothingness. Obi-Wan pointed towards a dark body of water beside the highway that churned with the wind. "Watch the loch for cailpeach. It hasn't completely frozen over yet."

Ahsoka smushed her nose against the glass. "What am I looking for?"

"Bubbles, or maybe a head."

Cody's aura was green with confusion. Ahsoka guessed he had searched the database in his HUD for the creature and came up empty. "Er, what's a cailpeach?" he asked.

"It's an ambush predator that lives in lochs. It looks a bit like an orbak but with very short, dense fur. It's friendly, playful, will even let you pet it. It hypnotizes you into wanting to ride it, then once your hands are caught in its fur it snatches you and drags you under the water to drown." Obi-Wan laughed at the look on Ahsoka's face. "Come now, that's not nearly as frightening as an akul."

"An akul doesn't trick you into petting it first," Ahsoka pointed out.

"True."

"Pretty smart for a beastie," Cody said, his aura light, brownish-gray with unease.

"Very intelligent, yes." There was a twinkle in Obi-Wan's eye and a pale, golden sheen around the edges of his aura.

Ahsoka's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. Are you leading us on, Master?"

"No, not at all. They're quite real." His lips twitched. "To the Máor-Grasta, at least."

Cody let out a long, exasperated sigh. "As you say, Sir."

"So they're mythical?" Ahsoka asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I believe that they were real at some point. If there were any left by the time of the Great Darkness, they've most likely gone extinct with the change of climate."

The blizzard was getting worse by the second. Ahsoka could see the outline of some pretty cool mountains in the distance, but the landscape was very quickly whiting out. She crawled across the repulsorlimo and settled back against Obi-Wan's side. His hand went underneath her rear lek and rubbed the strip of skin that connected it to her head. "Remember" —his eyes flicked to the partition separating them from the driver as he spoke in a whisper, his lips pressed directly against her montral— "when we arrive, do not reveal that you are fluent in Máor-Grasta unless I indicate."

Ahsoka tilted her head to the left just a little to get his fingers in a prime position. " 'Kay," she mumbled, quickly losing the ability to focus. She pushed against his hand with a loud purr and fought the urge to let her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Obi-Wan's aura was like a sweet copper cloud filling the limo's cabin. "Despite the weather, I'm glad you were able to come on this mission with me. Who knows when we'll get a chance to return."

Ahsokas's heart swelled. "I'm sure we'll get another chance once the war is over."

Obi-Wan's aura was wreathed in a wine-dark haze of melancholy. "Let us hope so, my dear."

It was almost dark when the three finally arrived at Baron Stargrain's estate. Everything outside was a white blur. "Hope we don't have to find our way back on our own," Ahsoka joked as the vehicle came to a stop. "I can't even tell which way is west, let alone where Dunay-Jinn is."

"My HUD knows," Cody deadpanned. He put his helmet back on and checked his sidearm. "General, I don't suppose you know who I'll be conferring with about security?"

"There's only Stargrain's security, but I expect he relieved most of his staff for the negotiations."

Cody paused, his aura rolling pure green with confusion. "Sir, I apologize, but that makes no sense."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "It's tradition. In the old days when Máor-Grasta warchiefs would confer there would be no bodyguards, no soldiers, just the leaders coming together to meet as equals. You were at the complete mercy of your host's hospitality."

"But these aren't Máor-Grasta warchiefs, they're Stewjoni diplomats," Ahsoka pointed out.

"Do-Nal and Aed-Han are, however. I give Chairwoman Galethorn a great deal of credit, she is going the extra mile to respect tradition in this matter."

"She's like their Chancellor, right?" Ahsoka asked.

"Yes. Pearl Galethorn is Executive Chairwoman of the Stewjon ruling body. With her will be Mica Ashfrost, the Vice Chairman, and his wife, Senator Ruby Seafir."

"Who's the Máor-Grasta senator?" Ahsoka couldn't help but ask, knowing full well that they didn't have one.

Obi-Wan didn't take the bait, but his aura flushed with delightful coppery-gold again, affection-humor swimming around his head like a crown.

Their pilot opened the door. A bitter blast of snowy air hit the trio and drove the air out of Ahsoka's lungs like a scramball bat. She could barely make out the outline of Stargrain's manor but it was tall, taller than she could see in the whiteout, and had none of the harsh angles of the Stewjoni architecture that had taken over Dunay-Jinn. The trio crawled out from the limo and rushed up a flight of slippery stone stairs, entering through a massive set of heavy wooden doors held open a crack for them.

"Brr!" Ahsoka shook the snow off of her like a hound onto the maroon rug. The decor inside was certainly not Stewjoni. The polished stone walls gleamed with the flickering glow of yellow gas lights, casting long shadows that danced across the grand entrance hall. They illuminated ornate tapestries taller than her, depicting scenes of long haired warriors painted blue in battles against fantastic creatures. Granite busts stood sentinel in individual alcoves, all strong jaws and wide eyes. Blue-green tartan draperies framed the tall windows through which the last, dim light of the day filtered. A fragrant haze of woodsmoke, roasting meat, juniper and snow hung in the air.

"I trust your journey treated you well." The voice belonged to a pretty young woman in her twenties; she had large brown eyes in a pale face, a jawline that matched the hall's busts, and black hair that hung loose down her back. She was dressed in a silky black dress with a blue-green tartan sash tied around her waist, the ties left long enough to trail down her back.

Ahsoka's eyes dropped to the woman's waist; or rather a bit below, where a subtle white glow manifested separately from its host's yellow aura. She was pregnant; by the looks of that sash, she was trying to hide it.

"I believe we're a bit late," Obi-Wan responded, bowing apologetically.

"With the weather being what it is, it's a surprise you arrived before nightfall." The woman smiled and took a few steps forward from the massive doors. "I am Tourmaline Stargrain. I'm happy to see that you all have arrived safely."

"Indeed!" a booming voice declared from the top of the stairs. The man who had spoken was enormous, with a black beard that went to his navel. His head was shaved, his cheeks were ruddy, and he was dressed in all black save for a blue-green tartan cape. "Master Jedi, I am grateful that you have arrived to help us. Welcome to Stargrain Manor."

"It is an honor, my Lord." Obi-Wan bowed again. "I am Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. With me is Padawan Ahsoka Tano, and Marshall Commander Cody of the 212th Attack Battalion."

Ahsoka hid her smile. Obi-Wan wasn't calling her his Padawan, but the implication was obviously there.

Stargrain never lost his smile, but his red aura flickered with white shock. "Kenobi? Did I hear that right? Are you…"

Obi-Wan nodded. "You did indeed, my Lord. And yes, I was born in Dunay-Jinn."

"Then you're a native of our beautiful country! And Máor-Grasta to boot! What a blessing to have one of our own among the Jedi!" Stargrain reached the bottom of the stairs and pulled Obi-Wan into a surprise wampa hug, clapping him on the back with both giant hands.

Cody shifted. Ahsoka sensed he didn't like the much-bigger Baron putting his General in such a vulnerable position. She put her hand in his before his instincts put it too close to his sidearm.

"And there's the clone!" The Baron released Obi-Wan and lumbered over to Cody, his green aura even greener with curiosity. He looked him up-and-down. "Well, I'll be damned! I've never seen one in person! I was thrilled when the Temple sent word that one was coming."

Cody took his helmet off and smiled politely, his aura flat gray and tense like a trampoline. "It's an honor to meet you, Baron."

Baron Stargrain stunned them both by taking a hold of Cody's chin and wrenching it up for examination. "It looks just like a real Human!" he exclaimed, a scant inch from Cody's face. "I'd never know that it was made in a lab if I saw one on the street! Stunning, stunning!"

Ahsoka's spine stiffened. Her rear lek thumped inside her poncho. "His name is Cody, and he is a real Human," she growled. She yanked his hand away from Cody and put herself between them in the same movement. "And I don't know much about the manners on Stewjon, but I was raised to not touch others without permission." She crossed her arms and glared up at the taken-aback Stargrain, daring him to touch Cody again.

"Padawan Tano," Obi-Wan said warningly; despite his chastising tone, his aura was flush with red anger-annoyance, and it wasn't flickering in her direction. He didn't like the Baron either, he was just better at hiding it. He squeezed her shoulder. "Apologies, my Lord, it's been a long journey. Might I impose upon you an escort to our quarters so we can freshen up for dinner?"

"Of course, Master Kenobi." Stargrain turned and looked around. "Termi, where did your sister run off to?"

"I'm here, Father. I was making up the beds."

Ahsoka blinked a few times. Did she have snow in her eyes, or was the girl at the top of the stairs a clone of Tourmaline? They were identical except for their auras; Tourmaline had yellow, while the girl at the top of the opulent wooden staircase was surrounded by green. She was dressed the same, but didn't have the muted white light in her abdomen that her counterpart did.

"Show the Jedi to their room, love." Stargrain paused. "I, ah… I apologize, I knew you were bringing a clone but I didn't realize it—he, sorry—does he need to sleep?"

Ahsoka opened her mouth to respond; Obi-Wan made a gesture, low by his waist, and her jaw snapped shut. "He needs to take care of his basic Human needs, yes," Obi-Wan said genially, while his aura flared with bright red outrage.

"Right." The Baron clapped Cody on the shoulder awkwardly, like he was patting a massiff. "Dinner starts soon, whether or not Do-Nal is here. I'll have one of the twins fetch you when it's time."

Oh. Ahsoka felt like an idiot; she was so used to clones that she'd forgotten for a moment that twins existed.

"Do-Nal hasn't arrived yet?" Obi-Wan asked.

The Baron's aura flushed with chartreuse annoyance. "No. He's the last guest we're waiting on. But he will be here, Master Jedi, that I promise. His father has assured me that he's coming to sit down."

"Then I shall see you at dinner." With that, Obi-Wan bowed his head one last time and began the long walk up the stone stairs, one hand on Ahsoka's back to herd her away from the Baron.

"I know, I know," Ahsoka quietly grumbled before Obi-Wan could scold her again. "Don't speak unless spoken to."

"I wasn't going to say that at all."

"You weren't?"

"You remind me very much of your Master at this age. Telling him such things never worked for him, I doubt they'll work for you." Golden amusement twinkled around Obi-Wan. "What I think we must work on is your sense of subtlety, my dear. Deflect, don't defend."

Ahsoka ducked her head, feeling her stripes go warm. "Yeah, not the first time I've heard that."

Chalcedony waited for them at the top of the stairs. "Your room is at the end of the hall," she said, swishing forward without delay. "Was the journey terrible? This blizzard has shut the entire island down."

"Oh no, not bad at all, just a little frigid," Obi-Wan answered for them. The hallway was darker, the lamps fewer and fewer between, but the rug was still opulently thick under their feet, keeping the wooden floor warm.

"So if you're Stewjoni, why aren't you bald?" Ahsoka asked.

Obi-Wan shot her a sharp look over his shoulder.

Chalcedony laughed. "Because I'm not only Stewjoni. My mother was Máor-Grasta. Clan Kamobel." She flicked her long black hair back over her shoulder. "It was taboo, once, to intermarry. The Máor-Grasta were terrified that they'd lose their Grace if they did, so it was forbidden unless the Stewjoni betrothed had Grace of their own."

Ahsoka's brow markings went up. "Your mom had it, didn't she? But not the Baron."

"Correct." Chalcedony smiled to herself, her green aura going light purple with grief-longing. "She was exiled for it. When my sister and I were born without it, their suspicions were all but confirmed."

"A shame that old superstitions die hard," Obi-Wan said.

"Especially here." Chalcedony's aura darkened with anger for some reason.

"What happened to her?" Ahsoka asked.

Chalcedony's aura turned violet again, grief-longing-guilt swirling together like a cloud. "She died giving birth to my youngest sister, Amber. It happened during a blizzard, just like now. The ambulance they'd sent for crashed before it could bring her to hospital."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Obi-Wan said.

Chalcedony's smile was brittle. "Here we are." She unlocked the door and showed them into the bedroom. Two beds stood side-by-side, both with a mound of dark-blue covers and pillows. Opposite the beds was a real, gas-burning fireplace fed by copper pipes. Tartan curtains lined the small, high windows and there was a taxidermied head of some sort of caprine creature over the fireplace. "Make yourselves at home, please." She handed Obi-Wan a lock cylinder. "This is the key to your door. The only other key that opens it is the master, which only my father possesses. The fresher is through that door. Either my sister or I will be back to retrieve you once dinner is ready."

"We need—" the door slid shut. Ahsoka frowned. "A cot for Cody," she finished, huffing.

"I'll sleep on the floor, Commander, don't worry about me." Cody popped his bucket off. His tight smile, stiff shoulders and beige aura gave away his discomfort.

"You'll sleep in a bed like a person." Ahsoka tossed her satchel and poncho onto the bed furthest from the door and sat down to work on her wet boots. "Ugh! Why were they so rude to him, Master?"

"There's an unfortunate misunderstanding among many Republic worlds that the clones are not sentient." Obi-Wan picked up her poncho and hung it near the fire to dry.

" 'S why they call us meat-droids." Cody patted her between the montrals. "Don't worry yourself about it."

"I'm not worried, I'm offended." Ahsoka didn't like the way Cody had just accepted Stargrain's manhandling. He was a Marshall Commander for kriff's sake, he deserved more respect than that! "Let me see if I can't catch Chalcedony and get you a cot," she said.

Cody's aura bloomed with copper affection. "It's not necessary."

"I insist." Ahsoka slipped out on socked feet into the hall, watching for Chalcedony's haze of green, and spotted it overlapping with Tourmaline's yellow around the corner. She hurried forward but stopped in her tracks when she heard hushed voices.

"Carson nach do ràinig e?"

Ahsoka opened her mouth to hear better and ducked down behind a statue of a Human in head-to-toe metal armor. 'Why hasn't he arrived,' she'd asked; it was one of the twins speaking, but which one? And 'he,' had to be Do-Nal, right?

"Cha dèan e diofar. Chan eil dad air atharrachadh. Fuirich fòcas. Bidh e uile seachad a dh'aithghearr." It doesn't matter. Nothing has changed. Stay focused. It will all be over soon.

Oh, she should have known that the Stargrains were up to something! What would all be over soon? What were they plotting? With the conversation seemingly over, Ahsoka ducked back down the hall and retraced her steps, walking as loud as she could this time. "Hello?" she called. "Lady Chalcedony, are you still here?"

Chalcedony immediately stepped around the corner, violet-lined chartreuse annoyance-guilt warring against one another behind her head. "What is it, sweetheart?" she simpered.

Well, at least Ahsoka knew where she stood with their host's family, but what was it that she was feeling guilty over? "Could you have a cot sent up for Cody, please?" She tucked her hands behind her back and blinked until her low-light vision activated, relying on her oldest skill and a little tendril of orange endearment to help relieve the tension.

Chalcedony smiled. The guilt deepened. "Of course."

"Thank you!" Ahsoka gave an awkward little curtsy and rushed back to the room, her heart pounding. "Master, you're never gonna believe what I just heard!" she hissed, sliding the door shut.

"Go on," Obi-Wan said, his eyebrows up.

"Okay, so I ran down the hall to see if Chalcedony was still there, right? And she was, but she was talking to Tourmaline in Máor-Grasta—Tourmaline is totally pregnant, by the way, I'm sure you sensed it too—but, um, yeah so I hid so I could listen in and I heard one of them ask why 'he' wasn't here yet—I'm guessing that's Do-Nal but I don't know for sure—but then the other one said 'it doesn't matter, stay focused, it'll be over soon.' They're definitely up to something!" Ahsoka bounced on her heels, too excited to stand still.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Interesting. Did either of them know you overhead them?"

"No, I was sneaky!"

"Good. Go wash up for dinner and change your robes." He tossed her the fresh, unwrinkled set of dark brown robes from her satchel.

"But—"

"But what? My dear, they could have been referring to the negotiations themselves. If there's a plot in the works, we can hardly confront them when we know so little. We must be patient and observe, and act when we know more. Now go get ready."

Ahsoka sagged, crestfallen. " 'Kay," she mumbled, and made for the fresher.

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said gently, "I'm proud of you for taking initiative. You did well."

She felt like an idiot. "But you don't believe me."

"Of course I do," Obi-Wan reassured her. "But you must learn patience, Padawan. We need more to go off of than the end of an overheard conversation. We will watch how the Stargrains behave at dinner around the politicians. Hopefully they'll let something else slip. That'll be your job tonight. Watch, observe, and remember what is said, especially anything spoken in Maor-Grasta. We'll go over it together once dinner is over. Can you do that?"

Ahsoka nodded earnestly. She'd find out what those girls were up to, get Obi-Wan undeniable proof of their scheming, and make sure that he didn't regret bringing her with him instead of Anakin. "You bet, Master."

◿♢◺

Obi-Wan had barely finished combing his hair when there was a knock upon the door. "It's time, Master Jedi!" one of the twins called.

"Shall we?" Obi-Wan shrugged into his brown outer robe and led the trio out. "Lady Chalcedony, I don't suppose you know if Do-Nal Moridak has arrived yet?"

"Unfortunately, he has not." Chalcedony stared stonily ahead.

"A shame." They were led down the stairs and into the dining hall, evidently the last to arrive. The Stewjoni delegation was already seated along the left side of the long wychelm-wood table; Executive Chairwoman Pearl Galethorn, a tall woman in her fifties with bright gray eyes, pale skinned, with a straight nose and three vertical lines trisecting each side of her face; Vice Chairman Mica Ashfrost, who at thirty-five was very young for his position and had lined his dark brown eyes with smudged black liner; and Senator Ruby Seafir, a tall, stunning woman with skin as dark and cool as a loch, wide cheekbones, and brown eyes so dark they were almost black. The Senator and Vicechairman had been married for three years, if Obi-Wan remembered correctly. Theirs had been a love story that was hounded by the media, every lingering glance and secret look the two had shared dissected afterwards on talk shows until their inevitable marriage had been confirmed. The two had matching spirals tattooed across the back of their bald heads.

On the other side sat the Maor-Grasta delegation, Laird Aed-Han Moridak and the mayor of Dunay-Jinn, Fal-Vee Kamobel. Aed-Han stood at a perfectly average height but was built like a pile of bricks; his long red hair was streaked with white, and his eyes were so blue that they practically glowed in the dim gas light. Fal-Vee, on the other hand, was a tall, lanky man with long gray hair and dark eyes that watched the Stewjonis with distaste.

Baron Stargrain sat at the head, as was proper. A painted portrait of a beautiful, red-haired woman that was as tall as he was hung in a place of honor on the stone wall behind him. Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and Cody took their chairs at the opposite end of the Baron, as motioned to by Chalcedony. She walked to rejoin both her twin and another girl, this one younger and paler, with long red hair and wide blue eyes that matched the portrait. Obi-Wan assumed she was the aforementioned Amber; she resembled her mother far more than her sisters did.

"Excellent, excellent! We can begin!" Baron Stargrain waved his hand at Chalcedony without looking at her. She picked up a silver platter full of miniature goblets and began to circle the table. "Chairwoman, Laird, may I introduce Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and Padawan Ahsoka Tano. They have come to assist in the negotiations with Do-Nal."

"And this is Marshall Commander Cody of the 212th," Ahsoka added sweetly, patting Cody on the shoulder.

"Kenobi?" Laird Moridak stared at him. "Did I hear that right? Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"You did." Stargrain chuckled. "I was as surprised as you, old friend."

"Tha e na urram dhomh a bhith an làthair aig do chomhairle," Obi-Wan said to the Laird.

He looked shocked, then the surprise fell victim to his face-splitting grin. "Balach math," he said approvingly with a nod.

Obi-Wan accepted his tiny goblet of poitín from Tourmaline, as well as Ahsoka's. He knocked hers back before she had a chance to protest.

"Master!" Ahsoka wheedled.

"No. You're fourteen. And besides, Togrutas don't handle liquor well." He refilled the tiny cup with water from the table pitcher before handing it back to her with a smile, blinking away his tears. It was all he could do to not cough. It had been a while since he had partaken in the strong drink.

"Slàinte Mhath!" Baron Stargrain declared in a booming voice, raising his glass.

"Do dheagh shlainte," the guests all replied together before taking their shot. Aed-Han and Fal-Vee looked on with smug satisfaction as the Stewjonis immediately dissolved into coughing fits.

With the first test passed—more or less—by the Stewjoni delegation, the second one began. A pair of rabbit droids jogged back and forth from an alcove in the furthest corner, each bearing a platter filled with traditional Máor-Grasta cuisine: boiled pearlfish balls, steamed velveter tongues pricked and stuffed with bogberries, a cauldron of skink, sea-duck eggs that had been hard-boiled and rolled in gobhar sausage. The two droids approached one last time together with the crowning glory of any traditional Máor-Grasta feast on a massive silver platter. Obi-Wan knew it was coming, knew it couldn't be called a feast without it, but seeing taigeis—smelling taigeis—in person again nearly brought up the poitín. It was a dish made from pulverized gobhar offal that was then mixed with grain and peas, bound inside of the animal's stomach, and boiled in milk. It was a way of utilizing the entire creature in deep winter when starvation threatened, but for some reason Obi-Wan's countrymen insisted on eating it every Life Day and… well, most special occasions.

It was Master Qui-Gon's favorite. He ordered it at every pub they had eaten at on their first trip, much to Obi-Wan's disgust. Consequently, Obi-Wan had forbidden Anakin from ordering it on their visit on pain of banishment to Archives duty for six months. He glanced at Ahsoka—the little carnivore was quivering with excitement at the sheer volume of meat before her—and resigned himself to the inevitable whining that would occur once his old Padawan received Ahsoka's glowing review.

Baron Stargrain rose up and with a mighty stab of his two-tined meat-fork, deposited the bound stomachs one by one upon the guests' plates. "These were not made by any droid, oh no. Amber used her mother's recipe—didn't you, my darling?"

"Yes, Father," the little redheaded girl said. She had the nervous disposition of a long-tailed tooka in a room full of rocking chairs and her bright blue eyes didn't blink as often as they should.

"I look forward to trying this venerable dish," Chairwoman Galethorn said bravely. She gingerly cut the stomach open with a knife and fork. The innards slipped out in a mess of milk gravy, hairgrains and peas, looking unfortunately similar to a vivesected abdomen. "Delicious!" she squeaked, visibly nauseous.

"Tuck in, tuck in," Baron Stargrain said jovially. The table went silent save for the sound of slippery taigeis erupting from its casing and the slurping of its contents. Obi-Wan began his plan to transfer the contents of his plate to Ahsoka's without anyone noticing while pretending to chew. "Termi, my love, remember how your mother would spend days and days binding up all the puddings for Life Day?" Stargrain asked wistfully. "All the staff would get one, of course, and she'd send them home to her family."

"I was the one who helped her," Chalcedony interjected irritably. "Tourmaline was afraid to touch the stomachs."

"Can you blame me?" Tourmaline grumbled.

"I think it's a very practical dish," Senator Seafir said smoothly, swallowing her mouthful. If she hated it, she was hiding her reaction admirably.

"This is so good." Ahsoka didn't appear to be aware that she'd even spoken, she was so entranced by the food. She slurped up the last bit of offal on her plate then sat back and blinked, like she was in shock.

"Ahsoka, sweet mercy." Obi-Wan put a hand over his mouth so he didn't laugh. "Was that… thirty seconds?"

She thankfully swallowed her belch. "I don't know." Her wild eyes locked onto his plate.

He switched the two plates but stayed her hand. "Wait five minutes," he ordered her, "if you bring that back up at the dinner table because you ate too quickly I will not be pleased."

"I think that ship left the dock already, Sir," Cody remarked wryly, reaching out to help himself to a bowl of skink.

"Wait, I'll get it!" Amber rushed around the table.

"We do not serve ourselves," Obi-Wan said in a low voice, apologizing for not telling Cody earlier with a pat on the shoulder. "It's tradition. No one can accuse anyone of poisoning the other if only the host and their family are involved in the meal."

"For being of the diaspora, I'm pleasantly surprised you know so much of our history, Master Kenobi." Aed-Han's blue eyes flicked to Amber with every dip of her ladle.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice the sadness in them, and wondered if he had known her mother. "I was fortunate enough to be apprenticed to a Máor-Grasta Jedi by the name of Qui-Gon Jinn who taught me everything I know of our culture. He was part of the diaspora, actually. I was born in the cairns."

"The cairns?" Ahsoka asked curiously.

"The housing complex that we saw along the highway on our way here." Obi-Wan tasted a spoonful of skink and gave Amber an approving nod. She smiled and ducked her head.

"You were born in that dismal place?" Ahsoka looked disturbed.

"Most of us are, my dear. It's where around eighty percent of the population lives."

Ahsoka turned her eyes back to her taigeis thoughtfully. Across the table, Chalcedony whispered something to Tourmaline that Obi-Wan didn't catch.

"Even I was born there," a young, angry voice said from the doorway in a heavy accent. Do-Nal Moridak was covered in snow and made no attempt to stop himself from dripping all over the carpet as he stomped into the dining hall. His hair, long and red, trailed down the front of his furry parka in a wild collection of braids that had been threaded with colorful beads and copper wire. He was clean shaven and had his father's fierce blue eyes. Currently, they were burning with righteous outrage. "I, who now stands in the family home of my ancestors, in the Lairdship of my father's father, was born in those fucking cairns."

"Tha thu fadalach." Aed-Han stood and gave his son a furious look as he chastised him for his lateness. "Tha thu a’ coimhead airson sabaid. Chan fhaigh thu fear a-nochd."

"Is mise fear-cogaidh, chan e thusa," Do-Nal spat back. "Le trì buillean b’ urrainn dhuinn ar dachaigh a thoirt air ais!"

"Tha thu air nàire—" Aed-Han began.

The Laird was cut off by Obi-Wan, unwilling to listen to the son's threats; idle, or otherwise. "Tha sin gu leòr. Cumaidh tu ri riaghailtean aoigheachd, no falbhaidh tu. Cha suidh mi a’ toirt fianais air d’fheum gus dearbhadh dè cho mòr sa tha do chnap." That is enough. You will obey the rules of hospitality, or you will leave. I will not sit and witness your need to prove how big your knob is. Obi-Wan fixed Do-Nal with the stern, icy glare he had perfected over the past decade on Anakin. "Suidh sìos. Ith. Giùlain." Sit down. Eat. Behave.

Do-Nal stared at him in utter shock. He recovered, shaking his hair out of his face, then dropped his coat to the floor and plopped down beside his father. "Tha thu a’ bruidhinn gu math," he said begrudgingly. A rabbit droid dragged his coat away with a squeak of disapproval.

Obi-Wan introduced himself again and watched Do-Nal's eyes go even larger at his name. "So you're a kinsman," he said, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes with intensity; or perhaps desperation.

"Oh, I highly doubt we're related," Obi-Wan replied, keeping his voice pleasant. "Clan Kenobi—when it existed, of course—was a sept of Kamobel, if I remember my history correctly."

"Cheers." Fal-Vee raised his mug with a short laugh.

"You may be surprised. Kamobel and Moridak are ancient allies." Aed-Han's eyes drifted to the portrait of Baron Stargrains's late wife once more.

Baron Stargrain sighed. "My sweet Sio-Bhan—may her Grace forever guide me—was a Kamobel."

A set of skinny little fingers squeezed Obi-Wan's knee. He looked to Ahsoka, whose big, pleading eyes were darting back and forth between her plate and his face, looking all the world like a massiff awaiting permission to eat from their bowl. He nodded and hid his smirk as she dug in with rapturous enthusiasm.

The dinner passed with surprising pleasantry; Do-Nal attempted a few sniping remarks in the polite conversation, only to shrink down at a look from either Obi-Wan or Aed-Han. The warchief was barely Anakin's age, he quickly realized, and full of the same fire and vinegar as his old Padawan. He also learned of the Stewjoni's families: Ruby Seafir and Mica Ashfrost's daughter, Jade, had just celebrated her first birthday, and once Chairwoman Galethorn had stopped gagging on her taigeis she used the time to gush about her adult son's upcoming marriage. "I wasn't sure about him marrying an off-worlder," she confessed, "but Gale is a magnificent man. He's a doctor—and Corellian—but instead of opening his own practice, he volunteers his time in the slums of Coronet City through a charitable organization."

Ahsoka's eyes were glued to the twins for the entire meal, much to Obi-Wan's amusement. She seemed so sure that they were up to something nefarious that he half-hoped they were so she wouldn't be disappointed. The conversation eventually ran out and the guests all leaned back in their chairs, exhausted of both small talk and stuffing themselves. The droids cleared the table. The Stargrain girls made another round of the table, this time depositing in front of the dinner guests a mug of steaming godhan custard sprinkled with sugar and torreya.

Ahsoka took an experimental sniff. Cody put his hand over the cup and dragged it away. "Hey!" she protested.

"Sir," Cody said quietly, "if I recall correctly, torreya was on the list."

Months ago, when Obi-Wan had foolishly assumed that Ahsoka was to be assigned as his Padawan and not Anakin's, he had given his command staff a comprehensive list of foods known to be toxic to Togrutas. He was surprised that Cody had remembered. "Thank you, Cody."

"Is there a problem?" Tourmaline asked, frowning as she put down the last mug in front of Do-Nal.

"I'm afraid that torreya is terrible for the liver of a Togruta." Obi-Wan pushed her mug to Cody and eyed his deflating Grand-Padawan. "Even a little bit, yes."

"Amber can make up a new one without it," Chalcedony offered.

"No I can't. It's not just on top, it's in the custard too." Poor Amber looked humiliated at not being able to provide for her guest.

"Not to worry, dear. She was thrilled by the taigeis. It was more than enough for her—wasn't it, Ahsoka?"

Ahsoka stopped pouting and gave the youngest Stargrain a reassuring smile. "It was amazing," she said, and sat back to watch the others slurp with only a little jealousy.

The Stewjonis looked ecstatic to finally have a dish that wasn't made of either intestines or pulverized fish. They dug in and finished before the Máor-Grasta, making polite, agreeable noises as they ate. The twins looked unhappy, but collected the dishes once they were finished. Do-Nal's hand lingered on Tourmaline's for just a moment too long as he handed his mug over; Obi-Wan had a sudden inkling who the father of her child might be.

"Time for bed, then." Stargrain stood up from the table, signalling the others. "Do-Nal, thank you for coming. I know that this place has… a great deal of meaning to you."

"Given that it's my father's by right—" Do-Nal began, only to yelp at the elbow his father put in his ribs.

"Honored guests, I will see you bright and early at this table." He bowed. "This dinner was productive. We all know so much more about one another than just our politics now, do we not? We can approach tomorrow's discussion as equals."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Baron." Obi-Wan took his feet and returned the Stewjoni's bow. "I agree. I have a good feeling about tomorrow."

"That was weird." Ahsoka sat curled up on her bed, watching Cody try to comfortably arrange his large frame on the narrow cot between their beds. "Nobody talked about anything important, just…"

"Just their families? Their plans for the future?" Obi-Wan spat the foam of his toothtab into the sink and wiped his mouth, then exited the open fresher. "I think those things are important, are they not?"

"Obviously they're important, but they have nothing to do with the rights of the Máor-Grasta. I'm glad Chairwoman Galethorn's son found a nice husband. How is that going to keep the woman we saw on the street from freezing to death tonight?"

She had a point, but she was missing the primary one. "The reason we do not speak of our political problems at the feast is to avoid conflict, to come together and leave as equals, as friends. Once you break bread once, you're far more likely to do so again. And the Stewjonis are more than just names and faces representing oppression now, aren't they?" Obi-Wan flipped his heavy covers back and got in bed.

"I guess, but it still seems strange." Ahsoka ripped off her duvet with a huff and tossed it on top of Cody and his single blanket. "What is this, a cot or a kriffing tooka bed?"

"Language," Cody grumbled, batting away the blanket. "I'm fine, Commander, stop fussing over me."

"You're going to freeze!" Ahsoka whined.

"No I won't, I promise." Cody patted his black-clad chest and grinned. "We run hot, and these bodysuits insulate against space."

Ahsoka accepted her duvet back with an unhappy growl. "You're not a Marine, yours only insulates against space for twenty minutes. Do you want to sleep up here with me?"

"Ahsoka, no," Obi-Wan sighed.

"What? Why not?"

"I'm fine, kid."

"Because you're not a little girl anymore, mo nighean, you're fourteen." Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel a little sad about that fact. Fourteen. Ahsoka was fourteen. In his mind's eye, he still immediately pictured a five-year-old whenever he thought of her, but she was a teenager. How was that possible?

"Then I'll sleep with you! Cody can take my bed!" She threw her covers off, excited.

"No." Obi-Wan turned the light off. The long trip, his full stomach, and the very comfortable bed he was tucked into all combined to drain the last dregs of energy out of him like a sieve. He could barely keep his eyes open. "Go to sleep, Ahsoka."

"Fine." He heard rustling sheets. "Master, we didn't talk about the twins," she whispered after a few seconds.

"Were they suspicious?" Obi-Wan asked drowsily.

"Yes."

"Anything specific?"

"Well, not really, it was just kind of… all of it. How they acted. And Chalcedony—"

"We'll speak of it in the morning." Obi-Wan's lids felt as heavy as lead curtains. "Goodnight, mo nighean."

Ahsoka let out a long, disgruntled sigh. "Goodnight, Bobi."

" …Master, come on, wake up."

"Mm." Obi-Wan batted away the hand trying to rouse him.

"Bobi!" It was Ahsoka, and she sounded frightened. "The power's out."

"It is?" Obi-Wan opened his eyes to absolute darkness. The fireplace had gone out. The wind shook the windows, and while there was thankfully no draft, the transparasteel would radiate cold after the interior gas layer eventually cooled.

"Chalcedony was just here. She said the blizzard knocked out the power. She unlocked our door from the outside so we wouldn't be stuck since our key is electronic."

"Thoughtful." Obi-Wan yawned and curled back into his pillow.

"Aren't you worried?"

"No. I'm sure they have a generator." He yawned again. "We'll be fine."

"But—"

Obi-Wan yanked Ahsoka under the covers without another word. She yelped in surprise, but quickly capitulated and snuggled against his chest with a purr. She was delightfully warm and smelled like sunshine. "Cody, get in Ahsoka's bed so you don't freeze," he ordered.

"Mm?" The cot creaked with Cody's shifting.

"Get up and get in Ahsoka's bed. The power's out. It's too cold down there."

"Yessir," Cody slurred.

Obi-Wan tucked his face into the valley between Ahsoka's montrals, listening to Cody drag himself up, and sighed into her soft, warm skin. "Go back to sleep," he murmured, and slipped back into twilight.

"Master? Master, wake up, wake up, Cody—Cody can you hear me? What's wrong with the two of you? Get up, don't you hear that?"

"What?" Obi-Wan snapped, unwillingly dragged from his slumber again. "What could possibly—" he stopped dead as another scream rang out, cutting the soft, pillowed silence like a razor. He shot up and stumbled from his covers. His limbs were dull and heavy, clumsy even for coming out of a deep sleep.

His instincts—the only thing that remained clear to him in such a state—whispered that it was an unnaturally deep sleep. He couldn't worry about it now, he had to find— "A… Anakin!" he sputtered. "No, Ahsoka. Ahs…" he tripped over Cody's abandoned cot and would have knocked himself out on the fireplace grate if his Padawan—no, not his, she was Anakin's Padawan, what was wrong with him—hadn't grabbed him.

"Master, are you alright?" Ahsoka's eyes glowed in the darkness like an akul's. He reeled back, startled, before remembering the glow was why Ahsoka could see in the dark so well.

"Dinner" —he swallowed hard— "we…" He lunged for Cody's kit, neatly stacked at the foot of his cot, and pulled the stimpack from his belt. He jammed the needle into his thigh before he could overthink what he was doing.

"Bobi!" Ahsoka slapped the shot out of his hands. "Are you insane?"

"I'm—" His heart raced, and it wasn't from the screaming still cutting the night air. His vision focused after a few seconds, as did his wits. Drugged. The Stargrains had to have drugged him. He rolled Cody over and checked his pulse, relieved to feel it beating slow and strong. He was still out like a light, but he was alive.

Ahsoka snatched her lightsaber and tossed him his. "We have to find out where that's coming from!" she exclaimed.

"Do-Nal," Obi-Wan growled. He led the way out in a sprint, his mind racing. Ahsoka had sensed that the twins were up to something, Tourmaline was pregnant, and the way she had touched Do-Nal at dinner told Obi-Wan that she knew the warchief more than just casually. The Stargrains must have lured them all here to kill them, and let Do-Nal take over—with his daughter pregnant with Do-Nal's heir, he guaranteed himself a safe spot from Do-Nal's plan of mass expulsion. Oh, but they'd put on a good show at dinner!

Finding the source of the screaming, Obi-Wan came to a sliding stop in the open room and ignited his lightsaber, Ahsoka's emerald light joining his sapphire not a moment later. Tourmaline sat cowered in the corner, balled up on herself, screaming and sobbing like a caoineag. Her outstretched hand pointed at her father lying motionless on the bed, wearing only a silky black robe, staring up at the ceiling.

Or not, rather; it was hard to see the ceiling when one's head was turned opposite of their body.

◿♢◺

Chapter Text

◿♢◺

Obi-Wan locked the library door. Tourmaline's weeping was muffled, barely audible through the thick walls. The library was the only room in the manor with its original wood-burning fireplace intact, and thus the only place with working heat. "It is vital that we restore the power as quickly as possible," he said.

Ahsoka planted her hands on her hips. "There's a killer running around, Master! The power can wait!"

"I agree with Commando Tano, Sir." Cody shrugged apologetically. "The Baron's still warm. This just happened. We need to move quickly if we're going to catch the killer."

"No." Obi-Wan fixed both of them with a stern glare. "The manor has surveillance across the grounds to guard against theft of the buntàta crop. We need the power on and access to the surveillance, not to mention the blasted heat back on. It's negative forty degrees outside and the winds here can get up to two-hundred miles an hour. The manor is well insulated, but it won't last." He gave Ahsoka a pointed look. "Are you willing to risk more lives to chase after a killer who is most likely long gone?"

"No," Ahsoka acceded reluctantly.

He handed her the master key he'd swiped off the late Baron. "Then you will go peek into every guestroom and get a headcount while Cody and I work on restoring the power. If you finish before we return, stand guard over Tourmaline and stay alert for anything suspicious."

"Yes, Master."

"You will not run off to hunt the killer alone under any circumstances. Take note of any clues that you stumble over and wait for my return. I don't care if they're standing at the end of the hall waving at you, unless you or one of the guests are physically attacked you will wait. Do you understand, Padawan?" A decade with Anakin by his side had taught him to be thorough in his instructions and eliminate all loopholes.

Ahsoka's shoulders slumped. "Yes, Master."

"Cody, with me."

"Yessir." Cody tripped over his own feet following after him.

"Are you alright, Commander?" Obi-Wan steadied the clone.

"Just a bit fuzzy, Sir," Cody mumbled. Obi-Wan sensed he was feeling a bit of embarrassment at his woozy state. "I'll get it together."

Obi-Wan wondered if the Marshall Commander would find it insulting if he tied a leash to him, just in case he fell in the snow.

It took Obi-Wan and Cody nearly twenty minutes to struggle through shoulder-deep snow and reach the junction box. Upon opening it, Obi-Wan spent a few, confused seconds wondering where the interior had gone before realizing the problem. "It's melted!" he shouted over the roaring wind. "The wiring, the sockets! It's turned to slag!"

Cody tapped on the side of his helmet, activating something in his HUD. "Looks like there's white phosphorus residue, General."

That would certainly do the trick. "We'll discuss it inside!" Obi-Wan gestured over his shoulder for Cody to follow and projected a weak shield of energy around them that pushed aside the now neck-deep snow and made their trek possible. Even so, it was another long, arduous twenty minutes to get back to the manor. With all visibility gone—and Obi-Wan's wits mostly scrambled from the drugs and the stimpack—they relied on Cody's HUD to guide them in the right direction. He would squeeze one of Obi-Wan's shoulders every now and again to realign them.

"Should have brought my subzero kit," the clone grouched once they had fought their way back into the entrance hall and locked the doors. He struggled to get out of Ahsoka's furry parka; no easy thing with it frozen solid.

"Master Qui-Gon always told me that Máor-Grasta winters were miserable." Obi-Wan took off his own frozen coat and let it fall to the ground with a thunk. He immediately made for the library, concerned that he had left Ahsoka alone for too long, but his fears were quickly assuaged by the sight of her resting on her haunches outside of the locked library door.

She popped to her feet. "I assume since the power isn't back on…"

Obi-Wan nodded grimly. "The junction was destroyed. Burned with phosphorus. The power stays out until we can get parts."

Ahsoka made a face. "That's just great. Maybe we should have brought Anakin after all. I'm sure he could have scavenged off the droids and rigged up a new junction in ten minutes."

She was unfortunately correct, but there was nothing to be done about it now given that Anakin was stuck sulking on Coruscant. "Are the guests alright?"

"Everyone is asleep except for the Stargrains. Chalcedony and Amber were both awake and hiding in Amber's closet when I went to check on her. I had to drag them out and lock them in with Tourmaline."

Obi-Wan gaped at her. "Ahsoka!"

"There's a killer running around, Master, I couldn't just leave them unprotected!" Ahsoka said, crossing her arms with a defensive scowl. He heard the tell-tale thwack of her rear lek smack between her shoulder blades. "And Amber came willingly once I said she could bring her aktapan! Chalcedony fought me a little, but she's fine."

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you sense anything with your Empathy?"

"Tourmaline's grief and shock seemed pretty real. When I told Chalcedony and Amber—"

"You told them?" Obi-Wan interrupted, dismayed.

Ahsoka winced. The tips of her front lekku curled like they were embarrassed for her. "Was I not supposed to?"

"I would have preferred you waited, yes."

"Well I figured I had to, since it wasn't as though Tourmaline was going to keep quiet about it." Her eyes tracked the air around his head. "I was kind!" she added.

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. "What did you see?"

"Chalcedony was a little complicated. She was scared, then sad, then guilty—"

"Guilty?" Obi-Wan immediately confirmed.

"Yes, but she immediately started crying and apologizing to Tourmaline for hiding and not going to her, so I think it was about not helping her."

"You don't know?" Cody interrupted.

"No," Ahsoka said sullenly. "I don't know why people feel what they feel, just that they're feeling it."

"Knew it had to have a catch," Cody said, gently punching her shoulder.

"And what of Amber?" Obi-Wan asked, getting her back on track.

"That's the weird thing. She doesn't have an aura right now."

"What do you mean?"

"It's gone. It was there at dinner, light blue and totally normal, but now it's gone. It's like she's shielding, but she shouldn't be able to do that if she's not Force sensitive."

"Chalcedony said she and Tourmaline don't have Grace," Cody pointed out. "She never said that Amber didn't."

"That's very true." Obi-Wan stroked his beard, considering the possibility. He hadn't sensed anything at dinner, but it wasn't as though Force sensitives walked around with a sign around their necks declaring their midichlorian count. "Do you think she's conscious of it?"

"I can't tell. People draw in their auras instinctively when they're in shock, and she just had a big one. It might not be on purpose."

"But Tourmaline and Chalcedony's are still there?" Cody asked.

"Yes, but Amber is only twelve."

"As of now, I don't think that any of the girls are directly involved," Obi-Wan said. "But I would have still liked to have seen their reaction myself. Regardless, that leaves us with six suspects, all of whom we need to wake and move to the library."

"But Master, everyone else is drugged. How could it have been one of them when Tourmaline screaming her head off didn't wake them up?"

"Is there a chance any of the guests were feigning sleep?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "They seemed pretty conked out to me."

"The weather makes an intruder unlikely. I'd suggest a droid, but even a shielded unit would shut down in conditions like this."

Cody shivered. "Too right, Sir."

"So that leaves the Stargrain children and our sleeping guests. Cody, search this floor then gather up the Stewjoni delegation and escort them here."

"Yessir."

"Ahsoka, with me." He moved through the hallway behind the staircase and ascended it. "I want you to continue to watch over the twins. I trust that you accurately interpreted their reaction to the Baron's death, but that does not rule out their involvement."

Ahsoka frowned, following him up the stairs. "What do you mean?"

Obi-Wan wished his heart rate would go down. Jedi didn't use stimpacks as a rule; they made one's mind work too fast, making it virtually impossible to focus enough to use the Force properly. He'd barely managed the shield outside because of its distracting influence. It would be several hours until it worked through his system. "Perhaps his death was an accident and he was only supposed to be rendered unconscious. It's impossible to know until we question everyone."

Ahsoka snorted. "If they weren't trying to kill him, they definitely screwed up."

"On that, Padawan, we certainly agree."

Obi-Wan may not have cared for him personally, but the Baron had curated a beautiful selection of the written word; there were real, leather-bound books on the shelves, not datapads. Lit only by the massive stone fireplace in the far northern corner, the library smelled of warm leather and aged arborvellum, punctuated with woodsmoke and the clinging undertone of t'bac. The walls stretched up two stories and were made of white wylchem wood, sanded and polished until they shone. Comfortable, overstuffed chairs and the odd sofa made homes on the ends of the shelves and in front of the fireplace like squat leather mushrooms.

The guests had assembled—half asleep and still in their nightclothes—and they were very unhappy. "Jasper's dead." Do-Nal Moridak pulled his faded flannel robe tightly around him and stared at Obi-Wan, unnerved. His beard had been relieved of its beads and wire and his long hair was braided down his back. Relieved of his warchief persona, he looked Anakin's age. "And you think he was murdered?"

"He certainly didn't break his own karking neck!" Tourmaline snapped. She had moved on quickly from crying to fury, pacing back and forth like a caged nexu around the perimeter of the library. Obi-Wan watched the hem of her flowing black nightgown and wondered how many laps she could make before she caught it on the fireplace grate and ignited.

"His neck was broken?" Chairwoman Pearl Galethorn pressed a hand to her chest, horrified. Like the other Stewjonis she had foregone her circlet for sleep, and her black, silky pajamas and robe matched her sleeping turban. "Who could have done such a thing? And where have they gone? With this weather… goodness, what if they're still in the house?"

"That is almost certainly true, Madam Chairwoman." Obi-Wan crossed his arms and regarded the room solemnly. "We have searched the house. There is no evidence of an intruder."

"So how did they get out?" Senator Ruby Seafir asked. Her big brown eyes refused to stay all the way open and were stuck at half mast; everyone was still feeling the effects of whatever they had imbibed at dinner to make them so exhausted. Even poor Cody still swayed a little on his feet.

"All of these old manors have escape tunnels for the families to evacuate during an attack," Mayor Fal-Vee Kamobel said softly. He put his hand on Aed-Han Moridak's shoulder. The Laird stared into the fire, his eyes swollen and wet. His grief at his old friend's death seemed genuine enough; a subtle nod from Ahsoka confirmed it.

A tunnel was news to Obi-Wan, however. "Cody, did you see any signs of a secret tunnel during your search?"

"No, Sir."

"The tunnel was filled in twelve years ago," Amber murmured. It was the first time Obi-Wan had heard her speak since the guests had gathered. She was curled up in a chair under a knitted blanket, staring at nothing and petting her aktapan. The fat, hairless creature was asleep, comfortable despite the chill in the air because of its mistress' blanket and the little hand-knitted sweater it wore.

"It's true," Chalcedony said with a sniffle. "There was a giant nest of spikerats that had made their home in the tunnel. We had to flood it and block it off with duracrete to stop them from burrowing through the fields and destroying the crops."

"Where's the entrance?" Ahsoka asked.

"The kitchen." Tourmaline threw her a sour look. "The door was tiled over. You'd know if someone came through that way."

Obi-Wan looked to Cody, who'd searched the kitchen. He shook his head. "At this point, I do not believe that the killer escaped," Obi-Wan said carefully.

"Just what are you implying, lad?" Aed-Han asked sharply.

"Pearl's right. They're still here, hiding somewhere." Mica Ashfrost's tan skin went sallow. "We can't stay here! It's not safe!"

"No you moron, he's saying one of you did it!" Tourmaline snarled. She snatched a book off a nearby shelf and threw it as hard as she could at him.

Obi-Wan redirected the heavy tome away from Mica's head with a gesture. "I would advise that you calm down, Baroness. If not for your sake, then for that of your unborn child."

Tourmaline came to a dead stop, her mouth open and eyes full of rage, but it was Do-Nal's reaction that Obi-Wan was actually looking for. Shock rippled around him in the Force. He was pale in the first place, but the blood draining from his face made him positively larval. If he was play-acting, he deserved an award.

"How dare you!" Tourmaline snapped, drawing up to her full, impressive height. She stomped towards him, her face twisted. "You son of a—" She chucked an empty candelabra at Obi-Wan, which he redirected with another flick.

"Settle down, ma'am," Cody said with a threatening rumble. He took a step forward.

Tourmaline reluctantly dropped the glass vellumweight she had been ready to launch at Obi-Wan.

"You're pregnant?" Chalcedony whispered, her big brown eyes wide with shock.

"What I am is no one's business but my own," Tourmaline snarled, ignoring her sister. She pointed at Obi-Wan with a shaking finger. "You are not my kin. You're barely even my people, coigreach."

Ah. Obi-Wan expected the validity of his heritage to be attacked at some point by the locals, though he had to admit he hadn't expected it from the ones with Stewjoni names. "Baroness—" he began, only to be interrupted.

"Perhaps you could remind me, Lady Tourmaline." Ahsoka leaned forward from her perch on the sofa, smirking like a tooka who'd cornered a nuna chick. Obi-Wan felt a chill go down his spine. "Which one of you was born with Grace? You, or the coigreach?"

Tourmaline shook with barely-contained fury. "Stay out of this, you little tailhead bitch—"

"Better a tailhead bitch than a spoiled, bigoted little blurrg," Ahsoka taunted. "Don't insult Master Kenobi! And don't pretend like you have anything in common with the Máor-Grasta people who are actually suffering! May I remind you that you're holed up here in a mansion, droids waiting on you hand and foot, all while your kinsmen starve and freeze on the city streets?"

"At least the karking Togruta gets it," Do-Nal mumbled under his breath, shaking his head.

Clearly he had no way of knowing that the karking Togruta had had her impressionable young mind filled with anti-colonization rhetoric as a child. "That's quite enough," Obi-Wan said, interrupting before a tookafight erupted. Tourmaline had a decade and half a meter's height on Ahsoka, but he had no doubt that his Grand-Padawan could thrash her with her eyes closed.

"Sorry Master, but I can't stand hypocrites." Ahsoka crossed her arms and plopped down onto the arm of the overstuffed sofa in front of the fireplace. Her rear lek swished irritably from side to side. "If she cares so much for her people then why hasn't she put homes up for them on the thousands of acres she lives on? Or used the buntáta to feed them instead of making liquor for profit?"

"My father's been dead for an hour, I'm sorry for not expediting my charity work!" Tourmaline shouted.

"Oh, so you were powerless before this? Please. I could see the way he favored you, if you really cared—"

"Padawan Tano, stop antagonizing her," Obi-Wan said loudly. "Baroness, please come with me. I have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

"You can't possibly think I had anything to do with this," Tourmaline said, aghast.

"No, I do not. But regardless of my opinion, there are procedures to follow in matters such as this." Obi-Wan gestured for her to follow him into the adjoined office. "Ahsoka, stay here and protect our guests," he ordered before closing the door.

"But Cody can—"

He popped his head back out. "Stay. Here." He locked the door.

◿♢◺

Ahsoka sank down to the sofa's arm again, trying not to sulk. Even though he was hiding it well from the civilians, Master Obi-Wan was practically twitching out of his skin from the stimpack. He'd be lucky to sense another moon careening towards the planet in his state. Why was he leaving her out here when she could tell him in a second if Tourmaline was lying?

At least she hoped she could. Everyone seemed weirdly muted. She still saw their colors, but it was like she was looking at them through a pane of frosted-over glass. It hadn't been like that at dinner. She had to assume it was a result of whatever drug they'd been slipped to keep them sleeping through the murder.

It didn't help that everyone had a little bit of purple swimming around in their aura. She couldn't tell if it was guilt or sadness, no matter how clear she made her shields.

Growing up, Vereixem had taught her to treat her shields like a door that she could open and close at will; dropping them, or opening the door, meant she felt everything and saw the colors. Feeling and seeing less meant pulling the door closed. Anakin had helped her rebuild them, to turn the door into a window that she could fog at will, to feel nothing and only see colors—even block out the colors if need be without blocking herself off from the Force—which solved her lifelong issue of emotional overstimulation in a single afternoon.

But right now, her window was cloudy no matter how much she polished it. It was making her doubt herself. She normally had no problems discerning guilt from sadness. She wasn't drugged, so it had to be them, right?

"Udesii, Os'ika." Cody patted her on the shoulder. "Kaysh mirdalan. Gar ente'ruusii kaysh, 'lek?"

" 'Lek," Ahsoka said with a reluctant sigh. She took in the guests: Do-Nal absently rubbed his father's shoulder and stared at the fire. Whatever he had going on with Tourmaline, he hadn't been aware that their affair had produced evidence—wait. "Did you say Ahs'ika or Os'ika?" she asked, frowning.

"Ahs'ika." Cody said with a straight face. For a few seconds, his aura was rimmed with molten silver.

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes; Cody's aura was as foggy as the rest, but she could still spot an outright lie. "Are you certain, Commander?"

"Quite certain, Commander." Cody's cheek twitched. Silver appeared again.

"Mmhmm." Her eyes trailed across the Stewjoni delegation. Pearl Galethorn was sitting primly upright, nervously twisting her hands in her lap while her aura softly buzzed with anxiety like a faulty bulb. Mica Ashfrost held his wife's hand with a stony expression. His aura was blue-green, thick with protection-concern. She didn't see any sign of a guilty conscience bothering him, but he didn't seem all that upset that an important Stewjoni ally was dead, either.

Beside him, his wife Ruby Seafir had a bizarre mix of grief-fear-anxiety swirling around her like a black-sand duststorm. Her trembling lip was the only outside clue to her distress as she stared silently into the flames.

Ahsoka moved to her side. "Did you know the Baron well?" she asked the Senator quietly.

Ruby looked up. "What?" she asked after a few confused seconds, blinking her big brown nerf-calf eyes like she was lost. "Does it matter?"

"I sense that you're upset," Ahsoka said gently.

"Of course I'm upset." Ruby looked away. "But to answer your question, yes, I knew Jasper. He was my political mentor when I was first entering public service as a teenager. He asked me to help convince Pearl to come to these negotiations."

Do-Nal snorted. "Negotiations. Odd thing to call the demand for my men to disband and stop protecting their kinsmen."

"And you would call dragging people into the street and beating them to death protection?" Pearl asked coldly, glaring at Do-Nal. "And the children who burned to death in that fire, were they a risk to your people?"

"My men were not responsible for that!" Do-Nal said angrily.

"You truly expect us to believe that men who were dressed in your colors and reciting lines from your manifesto while they murdered innocent people were unaffiliated with you?"

"Yes," Do-Nal said fiercely. "I am a protector of my people! I would never condone the cold-blooded murder of children!"

Ahsoka raised her brow markings at the fierce orange bloom in his aura that thrummed with passion-defense. She saw no silver. He wasn't lying. "I believe you," Ahsoka offered.

Do-Nal's posture was tight, defensive; upon hearing her reassurance, his whole body relaxed. "You do?" he asked, practically vibrating with ice-blue hope.

Ahsoka nodded. "I have a gift. I can sense when people are lying" —normally, at least, but she wasn't about to admit that— "and you aren't."

Do-Nal's aura flickered with white surprise—and was that a little fear, too? It was hard to tell.

"Then who murdered the Blacklace family and burnt down half a city block?" Mica demanded.

Do-Nal whirled on him. "I've no idea, how many times must I say it? I never, never authorized such violence. All I have done is denounce it!"

Ruby scoffed. "You want to expel everyone from Máor-Grasta!"

"I want the Stewjoni to relinquish the lands that you have no claim to and go back to the mainland now that it's safe, yes!"

"The mainland is a blasted wasteland," Pearl shot back. "A frozen desert barely populated with lichen!"

"That's your problem to figure out!" Do-Nal shouted. "We opened our home to you and now our people, our culture, even our language is dying because you've taken over the island like a colony of parasites! You made it illegal to own property outside of the city limits, gave away the Lairdships to—"

"We did nothing of the sort!" Pearl defended, turning red both in her face and her aura. "Pur predecessors' actions are not our own!"

"Yet you maintain and enforce them!"

"Oh, stop speaking as though there was a plot to steal the land from your family!" Mica interrupted. "Your grandfather was a violent, seditious terrorist who—"

"Now wait just a blasted minute." Aed-Han stood, going dark red with offense; he wasn't all that tall, but he was stout with working muscle and had a thick barrel waist like the clones. Ahsoka could tell from the way his seams tightened around his biceps that he could bench press her easily with one hand. "I will not let you drag my father through the mud to win an argument. He was opinionated, yes, but he was an activist, not a terrorist!"

"He was convicted of plotting to kill the Chairman," Ruby said dryly.

Ahsoka glanced at Cody. His eyebrows were up and his aura shifted between golden amusement and soft gray surprise.

"Chairman Fireweb was a damned maniac," Fal-Vee said coldly. His aura darkened and clung to him like a spiderweb, dark red with offense that dwarfed what Aed-Han had shown. "It would have been a public service had he been taken out. The only crime was that Sha-Mus' plot failed."

Aed-Han nodded. "Fireweb is the one who segregated the island in the first place! You went to university, don't you recall reading his proclamations of how we were bestial pagans who needed to be dragged into the modern age whether we liked it or not?"

"Fireweb was a shit person and the worst Chairman the Stewjoni have ever elected," Ruby said flatly. "There's a reason he only served three terms."

"Doesn't that mean he was voted back in twice?" Ahsoka whispered to Cody.

The Senator looked away, her aura yellowing with embarrassment. "Be that as it may, he was still the duly elected Executive Chairman of Stewjon, and plotting to murder him was a crime."

"You want to speak of crimes?" Do-Nal's aura flared with red anger like a bonfire. "What of the illegal adoptions of our newborns stolen from the hospital nurseries? The organ theft? The banning of our tongue? The haircuts, the exodus, the famines? There are more Máor-Grasta on bloody Coruscant than here because that bastard's reign of terror outdid that of even the Joni!"

Ahsoka's eyes wandered to the Stargrain children, who had so far stayed quiet. Chalcedony was curled up in a ball in a chair opposite Amber, tears streaming down her face in a steady stream. Her aura was a violet cloud as thick and heavy as the snow outside. Now that adrenaline wasn't coloring her decision making, Ahsoka did feel a little bad for dragging her out of the closet by her hair.

Beside her, Amber stroked her aktapan's trunk mindlessly, her aura still nowhere to be found. It was unnerving. Ahsoka tuned out the delegates' squabbling and made her way to the girl. "Hey," she said quietly, sinking down on her haunches next to the chair.

"Hello." Amber's bloodshot eyes were pale blue, her long hair was red and she was covered in freckles; except for the spots, the resemblance to the portrait of her mother was uncanny.

"This is a lot, I know. I'm sorry you have to go through this." Ahsoka took a chance and reached out for her hand, squeezing it gently. She even had freckles on her knuckles. Ahsoka always liked seeing markings on Humans. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Amber shook her head. "Can I go to my daddy's room?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Ahsoka shook her head. Jasper Stargrain's body was still on the bed, though Obi-Wan had covered him with a sheet. With no morgue, they'd had left the insulating curtains wide open to let the cold seep into his room and keep the body from decomposing until they could call for a coroner. "I don't think that would be a good idea," Ahsoka said apologetically.

Amber pulled her hand away and tucked it back under her blanket wordlessly.

"Why do you want to go there?" Ahsoka asked.

Amber's haunted eyes unfocused as she stared into the fire. "I wanted to make sure the lamp was still off," she whispered.

"The power is out," Ahsoka reminded her.

"Yeah," Amber whispered, almost more to herself than Ahsoka. "It's out. It can't go back on."

"Is it a… special lamp?" Ahsoka asked, unable to stem her curiosity.

Amber's eyes hardened. Instead of answering, she rolled away from Ahsoka and tucked her blanket over her head.

◿♢◺

"Your full name, please," Obi-Wan said pleasantly. He took a seat behind the wooden desk. Luckily for him, Baron Stargrain had a stack of fully-charged, blank datapads in the little office, along with a fat candle that let off plenty of light.

"What?" Tourmaline stared at him.

"It's simply procedure, Baroness. I must make sure my records are correct for the investigation."

She let out a long, disgruntled sigh. "Tourmaline Mor-Ag Stargrain, Clan Kamobel."

"Thank you. And your age?"

"Twenty-five."

"Your mother's name was Sio-Bhan, yes? Could you spell it for me?"

Tourmaline did, then leaned back and crossed her arms. "Am I applying for a galactic passport or answering questions about the brutal murder of my father?"

"As I said, Baroness, it's procedure."

Tourmaline looked away. "I wish you'd stop calling me that," she mumbled. The Force curved around her, heavy and dark with palpable grief.

"You've inherited your father's title," Obi-Wan reminded her.

"I'm aware." Her hand slipped down and rested on the subtle bulge of her stomach. "It still feels too soon."

"What would you prefer I call you?"

"My name?" Tourmaline laughed humorlessly.

"Fine, then. Tourmaline it is." Obi-Wan steepled his hands on the desk. "So let us address the rancor in the room, Tourmaline."

Her frown deepened. "What?"

"What was the food laced with? I assume it was in the custard, given that Ahsoka is the only one who didn't eat it and is unaffected."

Tourmaline laughed, high and sharp like an untuned quetarra string. "What are you talking about, Jedi?"

"I noticed you and your sisters also didn't partake, but as you were serving I didn't think it odd at the time."

Tourmaline shook her head. "The food wasn't drugged, you lunatic!"

"I am not a deep sleeper, Tourmaline, but despite you screaming loud enough to wake your ancestors I did not wake. It took Ahsoka almost a full minute to rouse me. I had to use a stimpack just to think clearly!"

"There was nothing in the food!"

"Don't lie to me!"

Tourmaline snatched a blank datapad off the desk and threw it in his face. His reflexes were still dull from the drugs, but he smacked it away before it broke his nose. "Fuck you for accusing me of lying! My father is dead and—and—" she burst into tears.

Obi-Wan leaned back and watched her cry. She seemed genuinely clueless about the drugged food, as best he could tell. "I'm sorry for your loss," he offered.

Tourmaline's shoulders shook. "Go to hell," she seethed at him through her tears.

"Perhaps the drugged food is news to you, then."

"Clearly!"

"Let's change the subject. Who arrived at the manor first?"

"Ruby Seafir and Mica Ashfrost." Tourmaline's lip curled like she'd smelled something sour. "They arrived in the morning, before the storm started. Pearl came two hours later, then Aed-Han and Fal-Vee almost immediately after."

Obi-Wan leaned forward. "And what did they do?"

"They stayed in their rooms for the most part. They came out an hour before dinner to socialize with my father, Aed-Han and Fal-Vee."

"Mm." Obi-Wan studied her teary face. "You made a face when you mentioned Ruby and Mica. Why?"

Tourmaline chewed on her lip, thinking. "I love" —her face fell— "loved my father, but he wasn't perfect. He made many decisions I didn't approve of. His affair with the Senator was one of them."

"Affair?" Obi-Wan's thoughts immediately went to Ruby Seafir's young daughter, Jade. She'd just celebrated her first birthday. He wracked his brain for any Stargrain features he may have overlooked in the holo-pics Ruby had proudly shown the table during the feast. "Is her daughter…"

"Not as far as I know, and the timing doesn't line up. She would have been on Coruscant when she got pregnant."

"How long had the affair been going on?"

"Nine years."

"Nine?" Obi-Wan asked, shocked. "Before her marriage?"

Tourmaline's eyes hardened. "Ruby first met my father when she was fifteen. She volunteered with one of the many charities he is—was—on the board of, I can't remember which. Something to do with education."

"And how old is she now?"

"Twenty-five." Tourmaline looked even more bitter, if possible.

"Ah." Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes, I know. Trust me, I know." Tourmaline scowled at him. "But listen, Ruby is shameless. She's slept her way through half of the Party. She spreads her legs for anyone who can help advance her career. The only thing she cares about is power and how to get more of it." She snorted. "The only reason she married Mica is because he was rising in the Party so quickly and his mother knew the previous Senator."

Obi-Wan stewed for a few moments. If Ruby had been groomed by Jasper Stargrain from her adolescence, it was hardly surprising that she would turn to sex to further her career. It was her first lesson in politics, after all; and quid pro quo worked both ways. "Did she have any reason to want your father dead?"

Tourmaline heaved a deep, annoyed sigh. "As disgusting as I find the whole thing, he was probably the only one of her lovers that she has any actual affection for. She kept up with him even when she didn't have to. She's the Senator, the second most powerful person on Stewjon behind Pearl."

"Would that not be her husband, the Vice Chairman?"

Tourmaline laughed bitterly. "He's a figurehead at best. And no, my father wasn't blackmailing her."

"You know that for certain?"

"No, but I have no reason to believe that he was. He didn't need to. Like I said, she had actual affection for him. If he wanted something done he only needed to ask."

"I suppose that's fair." Obi-Wan tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking. "Mica doesn't know, I presume."

Tourmaline snorted.

"And there's no chance he's holding the knowledge secret?"

"If he is, he's putting that background in theater to good work."

Obi-Wan paused. "Theater?"

She shrugged. "If his mother hadn't pulled him into politics, he could have been the next Kodo Anten."

"Do any of the guests have a grudge against your father? Anyone at all?"

"No. He was a charmer and his reputation is spotless. Ruby and Aed-Han are the only ones who have more than just a professional relationship with him. I suppose Fal-Vee as well, but they drifted apart after my mother died. He barely has a relationship with him at all. Or had, I suppose."

"And how did he and Aed-Han get along?"

"They grew up together. My mother was Aed-Han's cousin by marriage. No blood relation, though you wouldn't know it by looking at them. They looked like siblings standing next to each other." Tourmaline smiled for a brief second. "Aed-Han had feelings for her when they were teenagers, I think, but she chose my father and he accepted it. He got married and had Do-Nal a few years later."

"I know that Do-Nal's mother passed away a little more than ten years ago."

"Yes. Ais-Ling was always kind. Sad, but kind. Her death broke all of our hearts, though it was hardly surprising."

"How did she die?"

"Suicide. She drowned herself."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan said, surprised.

"My father said she was clinically depressed for most of her life. After Do-Nal was born it got worse. It took her a year to even hold him. Aed-Han valued her mental health over more heirs, so they never had another child."

"Did she seek professional help?"

Tourmaline rolled her eyes. "She was Máor-Grasta. You damn well know we don't trust hospitals. The only reason my mother tolerated them was because it was a matter of life and death, and… well…" She trailed off. "Fat lot of good that did her in the end."

"We? Has my ethnicity been restored, then?"

"Oh shut up, coigreach." Tourmaline waved her hand at him. "Like it or not, there's a difference between us and the diaspora. At least on Coruscant your language wasn't banned."

"Yet you speak it fluently," Obi-Wan pointed out. "Did your mother teach you?"

"Yes." Tourmaline's eyes glistened in the candlelight. "I suppose it's fitting, in a macabre way. She died in a blizzard too."

Obi-Wan's heart swelled with sympathy. She looked extraordinarily young in that instant with the candlelight softening her features. "I am sorry for your loss, Tourmaline. Truly."

She nodded without answering. He sensed she was still annoyed with him, but at least she wasn't throwing anything at his face. "So your relationship with Do-Nal…" he continued.

Tourmaline's face fell. "This was not intentional," she mumbled, rubbing her belly. "It was one night. One stupid, careless night."

"How did it happen?"

Tourmaline raised an eyebrow. "Do the Jedi not teach their monks about the birds and the bees?"

"They do," Obi-Wan answered dryly. "I'm speaking of the circumstances leading up to the act."

"It was when the militia first started acting out. My father invited Aed-Han and Do-Nal over to talk. He didn't want to involve the Stewjoni government, he was forced to after the teahouse fire. After they retired, Do-Nal and I stayed up drinking poitín. One thing led to another…" Tourmaline rubbed her belly again. "The reason I have kept it to myself is because my sister is the one who has feelings for him, not I."

"Chalcedony?"

"Given that Amber is twelve, I'd say that's obvious," Tourmaline snipped. "He's like my little brother. I don't… I didn't…" She sighed and slumped in her chair. "This is going to break her heart. She's carried a torch for him for ages."

"I have one more question, and then you may go." Obi-Wan leaned forward. "How many people outside of the family know of Amber's Grace?"

Tourmaline froze. "How…"

"I'm a Jedi Master, Tourmaline," Obi-Wan said smoothly, like he had known all along and wasn't just chasing Cody's hunch. "So how many?"

"Including you?" Tourmaline stared at him. "One."

◿♢◺

Ahsoka wished that she had gotten the name of Amber's aktapan before she had shut down. The girl was still hiding under her blanket, but the fleshy little beastie had wormed its way out and was blinking at Ahsoka with its big, weirdly Human eyes when Obi-Wan opened the office door. Tourmaline pushed past him, her aura chartreuse with annoyance-anger. Her eyes were swollen and wet. "Thank you, Tourmaline. You've been very helpful."

Tourmaline shot him a glare over her shoulder in response.

"Chalcedony, would you mind joining me next?" Obi-Wan asked politely.

"She doesn't know anything either," Tourmaline said immediately.

"It's—"

"It's procedure, yes, I know. Fine." Tourmaline kicked her sister's chair. "Get up, Donny. Go answer the Jedi's questions."

Chalcedony threw off the blanket and stood, looking away from her sister. She slipped into the office without argument.

"Master, wait!" Ahsoka rushed to the door before he could lock it. "They're out here biting each other's heads off," she whispered. "How much longer is this going to take?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "As long as it takes, my dear."

As much as Ahsoka wanted to tell him about the purple swimming around everyone, she couldn't until she knew what to make of it. She glanced over her shoulder before lowering into a whisper. "Senator Seafir is a lot more upset than any of the other guests. Almost as much as the Stargrain girls."

Obi-Wan leaned in and pressed his lips against her montral. She was having an affair with the Baron, he mouthed into the sensitive skin.

Ahsoka gasped out loud, but Obi-Wan drew back with a wink and locked the door before she could respond.

Cody immediately motioned for her to get back to him. "Um…" Ahsoka felt her stripes heat up and go dark. She darted in to whisper, "Kaysh ru'johaar'i, um…" She wracked her brain for the right words. Rex always flattered her and said she was learning Mando'a at a shocking pace, but she still found her vocabulary lacking. Sometimes she made up new words from ones she did know, sure that they didn't exist, just to find out that they did exist and usually made no linguistic sense. She had a bone to pick with whoever decided on the nouns that ended in -ir. "Dalyc… tsad droten'ad murcyu… um—"

"Oh, for kriff's sake." Cody rolled his eyes.

"I don't know the words, I'm sorry!" Ahsoka whispered, embarrassed.

"Just say it in Basic," Ruby said, exasperated.

Ahsoka crossed her arms. "If Master Kenobi wanted everyone to know, he would have said it so you could hear."

"Don't sprain your tails thinking too hard." Tourmaline's aura blistered with an unsettling green shade of malice. She settled into her sister's vacated chair with a dark, almost wicked smirk. It softened for a brief second as she rested her hand on the blanket where Amber's head was hidden. "I'm right here. You could just ask me what I told the Jedi."

Ruby's aura paled with fear. "What are you up to, Tourmaline?"

"Me? Up to something? Don't be ridiculous." Tourmaline's smirk returned. "But it's Baroness to you, Senator."

Do-Nal leaned in behind her. "A word?" he asked quietly. His hand tightened on her shoulder.

She didn't look at him. Her aura darkened with shame-guilt. "I just sat down."

His aura reddened with anger. "Na bi ruinsse còmhla rium an-dràsta." His fingers dug in around her collarbone. Don't… something… with me right now, Ahsoka mentally translated.

"I'm not." The hand resting on Amber's head twitched. She turned back and fixed him with a glare. "Later. Now isn't the damn time."

Do-Nal didn't budge. "Then when?"

Tourmaline's aura darkened with blood-red fury. "Feumaidh sinn a bhith beò air an oidhche seo an toiseach."

We must survive this night first. Ahsoka rubbed her brow markings before she nicked them on her akul teeth.

Do-Nal threw his hands up in the air and walked away, bright yellow with frustration-annoyance.

◿♢◺

"Thank you for speaking with me, Lady Chalcedony," Obi-Wan said softly. He clasped his hands in front of him on the table.

Unlike Tourmaline, Chalcedony's grief seemed to manifest in meekness. She would need a gentler approach. The Force tightened around her as if she were trying to make herself smaller.

"Let's go over the timeline for tonight," Obi-Wan began. "Where were you when the power went out?"

"In my room," she said in a croaking whisper. "I wasn't asleep yet. I immediately went and told my father."

"And he was alive, I presume."

Chalcedony's face twisted up in grief. "Yes. He was getting ready for bed."

"And then?"

"He gave me the master key and told me to go unlock everyone's doors so they wouldn't be stuck. Your apprentice was awake."

Obi-Wan hid his smile and chose not to correct her. "So she said."

"I told her what was going on, finished unlocking the doors, then returned the key to my father."

"Was he in bed?"

"He had just gotten undressed. He was in his sleeping robe, sitting on top of his covers. He told me not to worry and it would be sorted out by morning."

"And then?"

"I went back to bed." Chalcedony wiped her nose, sniffling. "I woke up because I heard screaming. I couldn't tell which room it was coming from. I was so scared, I ran to Amber's room and we hid in her closet. I…" she looked pained. "I didn't check on her. We stayed hidden until the Togruta girl came."

"You were protecting your younger sister," Obi-Wan reassured her.

"Still." Chalcedony wiped her nose. "You know, your apprentice dragged me out by my hair."

"I apologize on Ahsoka's behalf," Obi-Wan said immediately. "She was trying to ensure your safety. We had—we still don't know where the killer is."

"Then she locked us in the library and, well, you were there for the rest of it."

"That's all? Nothing else?"

"That's it." Chalcedony squeezed her big brown eyes shut. "I don't understand how it happened. How could someone turn his head like that?" She began to cry.

Obi-Wan reached across the table and squeezed her cold hands. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

She nodded, still crying.

"You saw nothing suspicious while unlocking the doors? No intruders? No odd shadows, or…"

"Just your apprentice."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and leaned back, carefully studying her teary face and presence in the Force. He sensed overwhelming grief. If only his heart rate would calm, perhaps he'd pick up something more subtle. "Your father mentioned that Amber cooked all of the food for the feast—is that true?"

Chalcedony wiped her nose, nodding. "The droids did the prep work, but Amber cooked everything herself. She loves to cook."

"She's a phenomenal chef. I've never had better taigeis in my life." Obi-Wan smiled at the grieving girl. "The ingredients, were they local?"

Chalcedony shrugged, looking a little confused. "Everything except for the spices."

"That makes sense. Our country is not known for its spice trade."

Chalcedony mustered a tiny smile at the double entendre. "No, it is not."

"Did any of the guests bring anything to eat or drink?"

"Aed-Han and Fal-Vee brought a bottle of poitín." She laughed softly. "The one thing we have in abundance they brought as a gift, but that's tradition for you. Fal-Vee would shave his head before bucking a superstition, and if you don't bring poitín to your hosts then your feast will fail."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan supposed that if he had a headtail like Ahsoka, it would be wagging with interest. He'd taken two shots, it made sense that he was so affected if the drug was in the liquor. He almost wished for a bottle now; stimpacks were designed to last through long firefights, and while it worked immediately, it reached its peak effectiveness roughly two hours after the dose. There was also the matter that it was designed for clones, with a faster metabolism and a larger body mass than him. As a result his leg wouldn't—couldn't, really—stop bouncing under the table. "Was it served at dinner?"

"No, it wouldn't have chilled in time. We served our own."

Obi-Wan did his best to hide his disappointment. "And the Stewjonis?"

"Not that I saw." Chalcedony wiped her eyes. "Why are you asking about food? Is there some sort of poison that can break a man's neck?" Her voice cracked on the last word.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, but I have reason to believe that something was slipped into the food. Did you notice that the guests were all unusually sleepy given the circumstances?"

Chalcedony's mouth fell open in a little pink o. "That's… that's impossible. Amber was in the kitchen all morning, she would have seen it."

Obi-Wan hesitated to accuse the twelve-year-old of anything outright, but if she was truly the only one to have interacted with the food then who else could it have been? "What of the droids? Did the guests interact with any of Amber's kitchen droids?"

She looked shaken. "You would have to ask her. I have no idea."

"One last question, my Lady. Do you have reason to think that any of the guests wanted your father dead?"

Chalcedony looked uncertain. She looked away.

Obi-Wan leaned in. "You can tell me, my Lady. I know you had nothing to do with this."

Chalcedony shook her head, noticeably uncomfortable.

Obi-Wan's mind raced too fast to tolerate waffling. He smiled and waved his hand subtly under the table. "Tell me what you are thinking," he said, pulling on the Force.

"Fal-Vee hates my father and blames him for my mother's death and I'm so scared I'm going to say the wrong thing and make you think that I know what happened," she said immediately. She clapped a hand over her mouth, shocked at herself. "Why did I say that? Why—"

"Why does he blame him for your mother's death?" Obi-Wan asked immediately. The trick was weak, but he figured had at least a minute.

"My mother had to have a surgical birth with my sister and I. Twins aren't easy unassisted, and we were both big. Her doctors said it wasn't safe to give birth naturally again. When she was pregnant with Amber she wanted to schedule the surgery, but my father thought she should wait for labor to start and then go. They argued about it. She went into labor just as the blizzard started. We called for an ambulance…"

"But it crashed," Obi-Wan finished. "I'm sorry, Chalcedony. That had to be traumatic."

"It was avoidable. She didn't have to die." Chalcedony's face crumpled with renewed grief. "My mother was Fal-Vee's wife's best friend. As polite as he played in public, I know he never forgave my father. Not really."

Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "When we arrived, you said your mother had been banished from her community for marrying your father."

"She was," Chalcedony said miserably. "Sor-Cha is the only one who kept in contact with her. Even Fal-Vee had a hard time coming around and he's kin." She sniffed. "He's superstitious. When we didn't have Grace, it proved to him that he was right to hate their match. He came around eventually, but it took time."

"How do you know he never forgave your father?"

"Little things. He declined invitations for every event that wasn't absolutely necessary. He sent presents for our birthdays every year, but never my father's. And he never smiled when he spoke to him. Us yes, Amber especially, but not him."

Obi-Wan had noticed he seemed a bit stoic at dinner, but he had attributed it to the man's personality. "Why do you say Amber especially?"

"He's always favored her. She looks so much like Mother." Tourmaline laughed softly. "My father's genes show in Donny and I, but they didn't even put up a fight with Amber."

"He seems close with Aed-Han."

Tourmaline nodded. "His wife's a Moridak, and Sha-Mus Moridak was his mentor. He loved him like a father. Fal-Vee is ten years older than Aed-Han, but they're like brothers."

"And what of Aed-Han? Did he have any reason to want your father dead?"

"No." She looked down, sniffling. "They've been close since they were boys. Not as close as Fal-Vee, but they were close."

"Tourmaline said that she believed he had feelings for your mother when he was young. Is it possible that he bore the same ill-will for Sio-Bhan's death?"

She shook her head like she was flicking off a spiderweb. The trick had worn off. It'd been far from subtle, but at least she seemed unaware of it. "He was crushed by her death, but he and my father seemed to only grow closer. They supported one another through their grief."

"Very well." Obi-Wan stood and gestured towards the door. "Thank you, Chalcedony."

"I know you probably want to speak with Amber next." She hesitated over the sliding door's manual handle. "She's delicate. If you could…"

"Don't worry, my Lady. I will question her gently."

Chalcedony looked troubled, but opened the door without another word.

Obi-Wan followed her out. It seemed that another shouting match had erupted during their interview—the office walls seemed to be unusually soundproof—and it had Ahsoka curled up on the couch beside Cody, scowling and covering her montrals.

" …wouldn't be here if you hadn't kept the treaties in the first place!"

"What treaties have my administration broken?" Pearl shouted. Her small, pale eyes were alight with anger and her pale cheeks were flaming red. "All we do is bend over backwards to accommodate you people!"

Mica stood and placed a supportive hand on his superior's shoulder. "Pearl is right! We came here with no security, no method of escape, and now we may all very well be killed because our only promise of safety had his head twisted off! All to appease you and your stupid traditions!"

"Stupid?" Aed-Han asked in disbelief. "Pog mo toin, you little—"

"Don't let them get to you. That's what they want." Fal-Vee shot the Chairwoman a venemous look. "Any anger you show, they'll latch onto it like a cailpeach and use it as an excuse to dehumanize us further. Don't give them that."

"I've had it up to here with your paranoid banthashit!" Pearl seethed. "I've no wish to dehumanize you! I only want our people to live alongside one another in peace, and we can't have peace if my people are being murdered for the crimes of their ancestors!"

"Then take it up with the ones who are actually doing the murdering," Do-Nal bit off.

"That's enough!" Obi-Wan bellowed, raising his hand to shut them up. His eyes landed on the blanket-covered bundle that was Amber. Poor thing was twelve, but seemed much younger. She deserved to mourn her father, but instead she was forced to listen to a room full of selfish idiots screaming at one another. He threw a pointed look of warning at the guests as he approached her. "Amber," he said gently, sinking to his haunches.

"Leave her be," Fal-Vee said sternly, "she's had a shock."

"I am aware of that, thank you," Obi-Wan replied shortly. Fal-Vee flushed and looked away. "Could you come out for just a moment, dear? I've only a few questions."

The blanket fell back, revealing a full head of messy red hair, a round face blessed with a constellation of freckles, and two enormous eyes the color of ice. "I didn't see anything," she whispered. Her aktapan blinked its big, almost-Human eyes sleepily. It wore a hand-knitted red sweater with cables. It investigated Obi-Wan's beard with the little fingers at the end of its trunk.

Obi-Wan tickled the curious proboscis and redirected it before it pried open his lips. Judging by the size of it—nearly the same size as Amber—he guessed it was female. "What's her name?"

Amber seemed unsure. "Leannan."

"Leannan. That's very fitting. She looks like a sweetheart. Did you make her sweater?"

Amber nodded.

"It's beautiful. You're a talented knitter. Ahsoka can crochet, did she tell you?"

Ahsoka gave the girl an encouraging smile; it seemed like there was a decade's difference in age between the girls, not just two years.

"Follow me to the office for just a few minutes, dear. You can bring Leannan."

She reluctantly crawled out from her blanket cocoon, aktapan in arm, and followed him.

"I know you were in your room," Obi-Wan said, taking a seat. "Do you remember feeling especially sleepy?"

She shook her head. "The normal amount, I guess. Maybe more. I was tired from cooking all day."

"Were you asleep when Chalcedony came in?"

She nodded again. "I heard screaming. Donny said we had to hide, but we would be safe as long as we stayed quiet."

"You didn't want to see what had happened?"

Amber shook her head vigorously. "Donny said the Jedi would protect us," she said in a tiny whisper.

Obi-Wan's heart ached for the girl. Ahsoka was right, she was completely closed off in the Force, almost as if she weren't there at all. She was traumatized, hiding herself away instinctively as though there was a hunter amongst them.

She wasn't wrong.

"You didn't see or hear anything else before bed?" Obi-Wan asked. Amber shook her head. "Alright. Tell me, when you were cooking, did anyone help you in the kitchen except for the droids?"

"Daddy helped me scrape the stomachs yesterday."

"That was very kind of him. It's a big job, isn't it? Especially when you have to make so many?"

Amber wiped her nose. "Yeah."

"And none of the guests touched your droids, or gave them anything?"

She shook her head again.

"An e reasabaidh do mhàthair a bh’ ann?" Obi-Wan ventured.

She nodded. "Tha. Dh’fhàg i leabhar."

"You speak well." Obi-Wan brushed a lock of hair away that threatened to poke her in the eye. Tourmaline was right, it was as if the Baron's genes hadn't even tried with her. "Who taught you?"

"Fal-Vee."

"Fal-Vee? Not your sisters?"

"Them too. But Fal-Vee taught me more." Amber fiddled with the edge of Leannan's sweater. The little creature laid a line of trunk-kisses along her jaw.

"Thank you, Amber. You've been very helpful."

Obi-Wan's head throbbed like he had ten-year-old Anakin trapped inside whaling away on his bongos. After escorting Amber out, he did his best to smile at Cody. "We're taking a pause. Please guard our guests until we've returned."

Cody stood a little straighter. "Yessir."

"Ahsoka, with me, please. I'd like to check something." He paused at the door and looked back one last time at the guests. "And Cody? If another fight breaks out and it looks like it will turn physical, you have my permission to stun the participants."

Gasps ripped through the guests. Cody smiled wickedly and let his hand rest on his holster. "Sir, yes Sir."

◿♢◺

Chapter Text

◿♢◺

Ahsoka didn't like the way Obi-Wan's aura looked. Yellow-green annoyance and deeper green curiosity stretched the air around him like tepasi taffy on a hook, and the edges buzzed with a thin, staticky layer of anxiety. "Are you doing okay, Master?" she asked him once they were out in the hall.

He sighed like an elderly lurca hound. "I will hopefully be better in a moment." He took hold of her elbow and gently ferried her along the dark hallway. "Don't dawdle. I'd rather get back before Cody has to turn his blaster on them."

"Is he really allowed to stun them if they start brawling?"

"I wouldn't have said so if he wasn't." He mustered a wink and a smile for her.

They made their way to the pitch black, freezing kitchen. Ahsoka was overtaken by a full-body shiver. "Brr!"

"It's unusually cold in here." Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and looked around, frowning until he spotted something on a tall shelf. "Ah. Perfect." He levitated down a dusty portable lantern and turned it on.

Bright white light flooded the dark kitchen, making Ahsoka blink. She looked around. It had a distinctly Stewjoni flare, unlike the rest of the mansion; the floors and walls were white tile and the countertops and large island were durasteel. Three rabbit droids stood in their dead charging stations at the far end of the room underneath the uncovered window; while it seemed to have stopped, the snow outside filled the high windows almost halfway to the top. It had to be at least five meters deep out there. The kitchen temperature suddenly made more sense. She pulled the curtains closed with a gesture. "Are we here for the secret tunnel?" She hopped up onto a durasteel countertop and hissed; the cold shot right through her robes and leggings and froze her bottom solid.

"I'm more interested in what was put in our food." Obi-Wan stopped rifling through the cabinet and tossed her a small device from his pocket. "Scan everything."

Ahsoka examined the little gadget. "What's this?" she asked.

He'd moved on to searching the pantry. "Portable forensic scanner. It has a database of forty million toxins, both natural and synthetic. It's not as sensitive as a laboratory unit, but it should detect whatever we were given."

"Gotcha." Ahsoka hopped down and ran the scanner over a pile of weird, leathery-looking orbs that were stored in a sack below the island, trying not to make a face. What were they, eggs? They kind of looked like lizard eggs, but instead of shells they were covered in paper thin membranes. Her thumbnail poked right through and into the cold flesh underneath. "Ewww." She shook the juice off with a grimace.

"What?" Obi-Wan laughed once he saw what was in her hand, his stressed aura temporarily overtaken with golden humor. "You found the buntàta, then."

"This is buntàta?" She sniffed it curiously; it smelled like cold and dirt. "How do you get liquor out of this?"

"You ask it nicely." Obi-Wan chuckled, tossing one from hand to hand. "Mash it up, cook it, add a few other ingredients, then you let it ferment for a bit. After a few weeks you have poitín—well, there's a few more steps, but that's the gist." He resumed his search. His hands shook almost imperceptibly and his pupils were tiny, even in the dim light.

"You sure you're alright, Master?" Ahsoka asked, raising a brow marking.

"I'm regretting my impulsive decision to take a stimpack, if I'm being quite honest—ah, here we are! The liquor cabinet." Obi-Wan returned with a squat glass bottle with a fancy blue-green tartan label. "Luckily, here's the cure." He glanced up. "Shouldn't you be scanning?"

Ahsoka reluctantly went to the spice cabinet while Obi-Wan fiddled with the top. "Are you sure you should be drinking right now?" she asked.

"I'm under the influence of a powerful stimulant. Alcohol is a depressant. They'll balance one another out."

"Didn't you take it in the first place because of a sedative?" Ahsoka asked skeptically. She finished scanning the spices and moved on to the slightly disheveled pantry.

"I'm following my intuition, Padawan, as a good Jedi does. And once I'm no longer twitching, I will be able to purge it from my system." He finally got the top off. He fetched two glasses and filled them with the clear liquor. "Care to try it?"

Ahsoka rushed to his side, her rear lek wagging excitedly. "Wait, really?"

"We might as well." He clinked his glass to hers. "Slainte."

"Slainte." She took a tiny sip and immediately gagged; how'd they turn a dirt egg into pure lava? It burned all the way down to her first stomach. "Wh—how—" she forced out between great, wracking coughs. She gave up trying to speak. It was pointless, her vocal cords had melted.

"There, there." Obi-Wan patted her back sympathetically, his aura bronze with affection-humor.

"Why does it burn?" she gasped. Her chest was on fire. The warmth traveled through her veins and spread through her whole body like boiling water. Her rear lek tattoed a distressed rhythm against her back like it was trying to knock something loose from her throat.

"It has a very high alcohol content." He poured himself another finger's worth and threw it back. "Whew. Quite high indeed."

"Now I see why Anakin wouldn't let me try that blue stuff." Her head spun like she had just stepped off a carnival ride.

"Oh? When was this?"

"The first week we were on Ryloth. The Twi'leks we were marching with had a keg of spotchka that he wouldn't let me touch." She started to laugh, remembering the panicked yelp he had let out when he spotted her lifting the little paper cup to her lips, but dissolved into another coughing fit. "He—He smacked it out of my hand like it was—ack—it was poison."

Obi-Wan's eyes softened. "Ahsoka, was this your first drink?" His aura practically melted into a puddle of copper affection at her nod. "Oh dear. I suppose your Master will be upset that he missed it."

He… yeah, Anakin probably would be a little miffed that it was Obi-Wan who had given her her first taste of alcohol. At times Anakin seemed to be weirdly jealous of his Master; it made no sense to Ahsoka, given their history together. She certainly didn't begrudge him all the time that he spent attached to Obi-Wan's hip, but every time she told him that her Grand-Master had taught her a move with her saber or a trick of the Force, he turned greener than the skies of Felucia. "Well I won't tell him if you don't," she said, mustering a smile. She nudged away the purple wisp of sadness that swam around the edge of his aura with a blue tendril of happiness. His aura was as foggy as the others, though she was closer attuned to it because of their Force bond.

Obi-Wan looked at her fondly. "It'll be our secret, then."

"You know," Ahsoka said, fiddling with her glass, "technically speaking, this is my first Jedi mission too. I've never gone anywhere that didn't have something to do with the war. It's… nice."

"It will be like this all the time when the war is over." He put his wide hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

She scrunched her nose up. "Maybe with less murder?"

Obi-Wan broke into a fit of laughter louder than she'd ever heard from him. "Now where's the fun in that?"

They put the liquor away—behind unsealed bottles where hopefully no one would notice the open lid—and proceeded to tear up the kitchen. The pantry, the cold storage, the sonic dishwasher, the trash pod, the massive custard pot soaking in the sink; all of it was searched and scanned with no results. They found the tunnel entrance behind the pantry—securely tiled over just as Chalcedony had said—with no sign of destruction. A freezing draft came from the crack underneath it, adding to the reason why the kitchen was twice as cold as the rest of the house.

Ahsoka let out a long, glum sigh and returned the scanner to him. "I'm not getting anything, Master."

Disappointment-frustration wreathed around him like ruddy smoke. He pocketed the gadget with a huff. "It has to be here. We checked the custard pot?"

"Twice."

"Karabast." He checked his chronometer. "We should go. If we hurry, maybe we can make it before poor Cody is forced to stun them."

"If it wasn't in the food or the poitín, then how were you drugged?" Ahsoka wondered aloud, following him out.

"That is what I cannot figure out." Obi-Wan's aura yellowed with unhappiness-discontent. "You and I shared quarters, so if it was introduced in the air then you should have been affected by it the same as Cody and I."

"Maybe I'm immune to whatever they used?" Ahsoka ventured.

"Perhaps." Obi-Wan paused in front of the staircase; the library was down the hall behind it on the ground floor. He appeared to be weighing an internal decision. "We're short on time. I'm going to continue my interrogations." He passed her his forensic scanner and the kitchen lantern. "I'd like you to search both the guestrooms and the Stargrains' rooms."

"Don't you need me to watch the twins?" Ahsoka asked, glancing up the stairs; without power, it was like staring into a black abyss.

"Cody can handle that for now. In the meantime, I want you to find out what we were exposed to and how. We need physical evidence." He gave her a little push up the stairs. "Go on. You know where to find me if you need help."

"If I do need help, you won't be able to hear me locked in that office," Ahsoka pointed out.

At the same time Obi-Wan winked at her, she felt a tug in the space behind her heart as he gently nudged her through their Force bond. "Honestly, Padawan, what is that Master of yours teaching you?" he teased, walking backwards down the dark hallway.

Ahsoka waited until he disappeared before slowly making her way up the pitch-black, creepy staircase alone. It was fine. She could do this. She'd killed an akul. Even if the murderer was up here, they were nothing compared to an akul.

She needed to find a coat; her fur poncho was still laying in the great hall in a half-frozen mush pile thanks to Cody and her robes weren't enough to ward off the chill. She could see her breath in the air. A full-body shiver shook her to the core.

She heard a tiny creak behind her. Immediately she spun and dropped the lantern, drawing her saber in its stead. "Hello?" she called. "Show yourself!" Although all of the guest room doors had been left wide open, she swore she heard one slide. She spun around and saw that one door—the one beside the Baron's bedroom—was only open halfway.

Ahsoka took a deep, shaky breath. Her front lekku briefly twitched and started to swell while her rear slapped her hard between her shoulder blades. I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. She took control of her fear, gathered it up like a ball of cobwebs, and tossed it away into the flow of the Cosmic Force, far away so it could no longer distract her. Once her lekku calmed and her heartbeat slowed, she pulled the lantern to her hand and crept towards the door, another shiver running down her spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air.

It was a closet, chock full of fur coats.

"Ooookay," she mumbled to herself, draping a white tauntaun-fur cloak around her shoulders. "That was a coincidence. Get it together, Ahsoka." With one apprehensive look at the Baron's locked door, she headed in the opposite direction to search Pearl Galethorn's room first.

◿♢◺

Muffled shouting could be heard from the outside of the library when Obi-Wan arrived; based on the blend of accents, it seemed as though everyone was involved. He unlocked the door and stood in the doorway so he could take in the scene.

"You know how I feel about him, Termi, you know! How could you do this?" Chalcedony buried her face in her hands with a half-sob, half-scream as she paced in front of the fire.

"I've already said I didn't mean for it to happen!" Tourmaline snapped, still seated. She smacked her armrest like it had insulted her. Focusing, Obi-Wan sensed a great deal of guilt in her heart; anger was her default response to that as well as grief, then.

Mica and Ruby had retreated to the north-eastern corner. "Since you were fifteen?" Mica sounded horrified. "I don't know whether to feel sorry for you or put you in an asylum for continuing on with him!"

Ruby reached for Mica's hands and he snatched them away. "Baby please, I love you! I had your child! You are the one—"

"Oh, sweet mercy, I need–I need to get Jade tested, don't I?"

"I'm telling you, my boy didn't set that fire!" Aed-Han yelled, bright red and sweating. He stood barely a foot away from Pearl. "I won't hear this slander any longer! He's passionate in his defense of his people and culture, but he's no murderer! I damn well raised him better than that!"

"Unless I receive undeniable proof that someone else was responsible for the Blacklace fire, your son will face responsibility for it!" Pearl stood firm with her prominent chin in the air, refusing to be intimidated.

"How am I supposed to prove I didn't order something?" Do-Nal demanded.

"That's a problem for you to figure out," Pearl said coldly.

The only one who wasn't arguing was Fal-Vee, sitting on the arm of Amber's chair with his legs crossed. He was rubbing her back through the blanket with a silent look of disapproval at the room at large.

Cody looked to Obi-Wan helplessly. "It's not physical yet," he said, his hand twitching on his blaster.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat and called on the Force to amplify his voice. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed.

The arguing idiots around him all clutched at their ears and reeled as though they'd been hit on the head. Cody was the only one who didn't stumble, though judging by the way his eyes had bulged out of his head it was a near thing.

Obi-Wan smiled. "I am ready to resume." He gestured to Aed-Han. "Laird, if you wouldn't mind coming with me for a few questions…"

"I've nothing to hide." Aed-Han tossed his hair back and followed Obi-Wan to the office with one last look of disgust at the Chairwoman.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Laird. I hope your son will follow your example when it's his turn." Obi-Wan took a seat behind the desk, but instead of sitting, Aed-Han squeezed behind him and flipped up a landscape portrait of a field of gobhar.

"I've spent many a night sitting up with Jasper in this office." He opened a small, hidden cubby built into the wall and retrieved a half-empty bottle of poitín, two glasses, and a packet of shortbread cookies.

"I'd no idea that was there," Obi-Wan said, slightly put-out. He was riding on two shots already; did he dare make it three to gain the Laird's confidence?

"It held the same in my father's time. Jasper was always good about upholding tradition." The Laird poured them both a finger and opened the packet. "Slainte."

"Slainte." Ah, well. Obi-Wan threw the drink back and threw a spiritual nod of thanks towards Anakin for helping him build up his alcohol tolerance. He followed it up with a buttery biscuit. "It's been a while since I've had shortbread. Nothing I've ever bought on Coruscant tastes right."

"Can't trust those commercial brands. They put all sorts of tosh in them to make them last. You want good shortbread, either make it yourself or get it here."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckled. "You know, my Master taught me his recipe."

"He sounds like a good man. Pity he was born so far away from his real home."

"So, where were you—"

"I didn't think it appropriate to bring it up at dinner, but there was another reason hearing your name surprised me." Aed-Han looked up, his eyes crinkled in a smile. "This isn't the first time we've met, you know."

Obi-Wan paused. "Oh?"

"Aye. I was only thirteen and newly anointed to the Lairdship."

Obi-Wan eyed the white streaks in Aed-Han's thick hair and wondered for a moment how soon his own would lighten. "I don't follow."

"You were two, I believe. Just barely. There was a visitor who had come to Máor-Grasta, a Jedi. Your mother wanted my permission to give you up to be trained."

Obi-Wan blinked, shocked. "Master Fay is the one who I'm told discovered me," he said after a few moments of stunned silence.

"That she was. Beautiful woman. Never seen golden hair like that—true gold, not just the color, but the luster as well. I thought she was Human at first, but those ears said something else. She saw you in the market with your Da, noticed how bright your Grace was right away. She knew your parents would have to discuss it and told him where to find her."

Obi-Wan leaned in.

"Your mother had just had another bairn, you see, and already there was a third on the way. Your parents were poor, very poor. Lived all in one room in the cairns on the lower levels. They were afraid that come winter, they wouldn't be able to feed you."

Were Obi-Wan's cheeks burning from the liquor, or the story? He was too stunned—and maybe a little too tipsy—to tell. "I didn't know," he managed to say. He took a deep breath and focused on mitigating the alcohol's effect.

"I told her to go to a stone circle and ask the stars. She came back the next day, sure it was the right thing." Aed-Han clapped him on the shoulder. "I see her Grace led her true. And yours led you to a kinsman to teach you about your heritage. Certainly the stars wanted you as a Jedi, but they wanted you to remember who you are as well."

"That I can be sure of." Obi-Wan cleared his throat and his spinning mind. So many questions popped to mind; too many. Were his parents alive? How many siblings did he have? Did they ever make it out of the cairns? He didn't have the time to ask them now. "Now, ah, may I ask if you saw or heard anything before you were escorted to the library?"

"No. No, I was dead to the world after dinner. Bid my son goodnight, and barely made it to bed after my ablutions. I always sleep like a newborn after a taigeis."

"And before, when you first arrived at the manor for these negotiations, did you see anything odd?"

"Only thing that was odd was the timing. I told Jasper that this should wait until the storm has passed." Aed-Han sighed. "Idiot. Winters are too dangerous to be out in the country like this."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows went up. "I was under the impression that this storm was unexpected."

"This one?" Aed-Han scoffed. "We get one this size every dozen years. Have for the last… hundred at least."

"Interesting." Obi-Wan clasped his hands on the desk and watched the Laird pour himself another drink. Why would the Baron have scheduled the feast knowing such a storm was due? The more answers he received, the less things seemed to make sense. "How did you and Jasper become so close?"

Aed-Han threw back his drink. "These were my father's lands. When he was convicted of his plot against the Chairman, they were confiscated and given to Jasper's father. I ended up living with the Stargrains until I was of age. I wanted to stay with family, but the Stewjonis decided that I'd be better off separated from them. Less chance of me being radicalized that way." He snorted. "Is caomh le fear a charaid, ach is e smior a cridhe a chomhalt. An old saying of our people."

"'A kinsman is dear, but a foster-brother is dearer,'" Obi-Wan answered lightly. "So it worked?"

"I'm not of Do-Nal's opinion that we should perform an ethnic cleansing of the island, no." Aed-Han crossed his arms. "But nor am I content to stay a second-class citizen in my own home. I don't want violence or payback for the sins of the past, but they must desegregate."

"Not one for revenge, then?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Revenge. Who does it help?"

"It certainly grants one personal satisfaction."

"No man is an island. Take your vengeance, earn your satisfaction. In the end, how many others have you given reason for their own?"

"I agree entirely," Obi-Wan said. "I presume you don't bear Jasper any ill-will for Sio-Bhan's death, then."

Aed-Han went very still. "Why would I? She died in childbirth."

"Because of Jasper's refusal to let her schedule her surgical birth ahead of time. From what I've gathered, her death was preventable."

"I…" Aed-Han trailed off. His ice-blue eyes looked far away. "I've made my peace with what happened. Sio-Bhan wouldn't want me to stay stuck in the past. She has three beautiful, living daughters. That's what matters."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan stretched, uncrossed and recrossed his legs. They had thankfully calmed down. "Did you love her?"

He looked shaken. "What?"

"When you were young, I mean. Tourmaline said Sio-Bhan chose Jasper over you. I assumed that meant at least one of you held feelings."

"Aye." Aed-Han eyed the bottle like he was debating downing the whole thing. He brought his hands up and put them on the desk, squeezing his knuckles.

His very freckled knuckles.

"Do you have Grace, Laird?" Obi-Wan asked, his mind rapidly putting the pieces together.

"Of course." Aed-Han looked offended. "I'm a true Máor-Grasta man. Tha gràs gam threòrachadh."

"I expected so." The possession of Grace—or what was known as Force Sensitivity to much of the galaxy—was almost universal amongst the Máor-Grasta. It was part of the reason they'd been so mistreated during the initial Joni colonization thousands of years ago. Most, however, didn't have a midichlorian count high enough to become a Jedi, and the few that did—like Obi-Wan—didn't often leave. The Máor-Grasta people were loath to let more of their own leave the planet in fear that they'd lose their Grace for good. "Do-Nal as well?"

"Of course."

"I've a question about the evacuation tunnel. You grew up in this manor. Did you ever use it?"

"Jasper and I occasionally nipped through. It opens to the staff cottages where Stargrain's security is now based. We'd sneak out to the loch and stay out all night, drinking where no one could find us." He smiled wistfully at the memory.

"A shame the tunnel was filled in, don't you think?" Obi-Wan leaned forward. "A spikerat nest, of all things. Twelve years ago, I believe Chalcedony said?"

"Aye. Twelve." The blood drained from Aed-Han's face. Despite the chill, it appeared as though the Laird was sweating.

"I wonder why they were never a problem before. This manor is what, a thousand years old?"

"They like buntáta," Aed-Han said shortly. "It wasn't grown before the Stargrains."

"Mm. Amber is also twelve, is she not?"

"What's that got to do with anything?" Aed-Han snapped, a little too defensively. He realized his mistake immediately and looked away.

Instead of accusing him outright, Obi-Wan sat and looked at him patiently, like they had all the time in the world, and let the Laird squirm.

"If you've an accusation to make, lad, then have the courage to actually say it," Aed-Han said finally.

"As you wish." Obi-Wan poured them both another drink but didn't touch his. "Amber's your daughter, isn't she?"

The Laird nodded, not meeting Obi-Wan's eyes. Clearly it was a source of shame for him.

"Did Ais-Ling know?"

Aed-Han winced like he'd been struck. "No. And she never found out. Don't get it twisted. Ais-Ling—may her Grace forever guide me—was sick. I loved her dearly, but the day Do-Nal was born I lost my partner for good. She never fully recovered from what the pregnancy did to her mind."

"Mmhmm." Obi-Wan stroked his beard, thinking. "So you understandably turned to your first love for companionship, which leads me to wonder—did you kill Jasper for letting Sio-Bhan die, or to reclaim the daughter you sired with her?"

"Neither," Aed-Han said sharply. He threw back his shot. "I didn't kill him at all."

"Jasper's neck was as thick around as my thigh. Whoever turned his head had to have a magnificent amount of strength." Obi-Wan eyed his bulging biceps. "Something you have in abundance."

"Having physical strength is not bloody evidence, lad," Aed-Han growled. "I didn't kill him."

"You had motive, means and opportunity. Did he find out about Amber?"

"He's known about Amber since she was a week old," Aed-Han snapped. "I told him after Sio-Bhan's funeral. I could barely live with myself. I told him I'd understand if he wanted nothing to do with me, just don't take it out on her. He was hurt, but he forgave me on the spot. He didn't even hesitate. He loved Amber the same as the twins." His face crumbled with grief. "Jasper was a good man and a dear friend. He had his faults, but don't we all?"

"How did it start between you and Sio-Bhan? Why would you sleep with the wife of such a good man and dear friend?"

Aed-Han gave him a dirty look. "Sio-Bhan wanted to be a bridge between our people. Like it or not, the Stewjonis are here to stay. She wanted to prove that our Grace wouldn't flee us by marrying him, and… well, hers didn't leave, but after a few years, it was clear that Termi and Donny didn't have it. It didn't bring the hope she'd expected."

"So you thought that you'd help her by giving her a child with Grace?"

"It's how it started. She always wanted more children, but she feared that birthing more without Grace would only dig the hole deeper. But we grew closer, like we used to be, and she admitted she… she wasn't happy with Jasper." Aed-Han spun his finger in the air. What was left in the bottle of poitín twisted into a little vortex. "He didn't mistreat her, but they weren't happy. They hadn't shared a bedchamber in years. They cared for one another, but they weren't in love. Not like we were."

"Did he know about your affair before she died?"

"Not as far as I know."

"You must understand how it looks from the outside. Jasper lived in the family home that was taken from you, was married to the woman you loved, was raising your daughter, whom I presume has no idea of her true parentage—"

"So you think I waited twelve years to kill him?" Aed-Han waved at him dismissively. "If I wanted to kill Jasper, I would have done it back then. And I wouldn't have…" Aed-Han suddenly crumpled, his eyes filling up with tears. "I wouldn't have done that."

Obi-Wan watched him for a few moments. As best he could tell, his grief was genuine. He sensed no attempt to mislead him. "Do the twins know?" he asked.

"I… I think Termi suspects. But no, I don't think that she knows for certain."

"When I asked her who outside the family knew of Amber's Grace, she said I was the only one."

"I can't answer for her," the Laird said miserably.

Obi-Wan stayed silent for a few seconds. "Do you think Do-Nal could have anything to do with it?" he asked.

"No." Aed-Han wiped his nose and sniffed. "Not on your life. My son is no murderer, no matter what that Galethorn bitch says."

"Is there a chance that there was another reason he agreed to come to these negotiations?"

"What other reason could there be?"

"With Tourmaline pregnant with Do-Nal's child, the Stargrain family would be presumably safe from any attempt at expulsion. And if the three ranking Party members of the Stewjoni government were dead… well, Jasper would easily win a special election."

Aed-Han shook his head vehemently. "Do-Nal didn't know Termi's bairn was his. He couldn't have planned it like that. And Jasper never would have tried something so obvious."

"You must admit that the timing is odd."

"Coincidental."

"In my experience, coincidences are rarely just coincidences."

"It is this time." Aed-Han took a deep breath and steadied himself. "I didn't have anything to do with this, nor did my son. I swear it on the stars."

As far as oaths went, one sworn upon the stars was as strong as a Máor-Grasta man could make it. "Very well."

"I want justice for Jasper's killing as much as you, Master Kenobi. I'll help you in any way I can. As will my son."

Obi-Wan helped himself to another biscuit. "Fal-Vee, I am led to believe, had a grudge against Jasper for what he viewed as his role in Sio-Bhan's death."

Aed-Han sighed, long and deep. "Aye. But he didn't do this either. He's a druid, a holy man. He's sworn to protect life. You'd know if he had taken one."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. "How so?"

The Laird laughed without a stitch of humor. "Because he'd be dead."

"Oh." Obi-Wan knew very little of the more esoteric aspects of his people's religion, but he didn't sense a lie. "Would that be a divine punishment, or self-inflicted?"

"Divine. The stars would strike him down, one way or another." Aed-Han stood. "Was there anything else?"

"Just one more question, Laird, if you don't mind." Obi-Wan met his wet eyes. "If Jasper forgave you so easily, then why did he fill in the tunnel?"

Aed-Han's icy eyes took on a deep chill. "The spikerats, remember?" He let himself out.

◿♢◺

Ahsoka grunted as she pulled shut the zipper on Ruby Seafir's suitcase. She was pretty sure she'd put back everything just as she'd found it, but if that was true, then why wouldn't the piece of kriffing bantha poodoo close? "Get. In. There." She hopped on top and squashed it all down with her body weight. "Get—get—whew." She fell backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds so she could catch her breath.

So far, she'd searched all of the Stewjoni rooms from top to bottom with no results. Next up were those of the Máor-Grasta delegation, but she had a feeling that she wasn't about to find anything there, either. "This is stupid," she mumbled out loud. She hated feeling useless. She should have been able to see who was guilty just based on their aura, but she couldn't even tell guilt from grief right now.

Obi-Wan should have brought Anakin, not her. Even if he didn't speak the language, he would have had the power back and the surveillance restored already, not to mention intimidated a confession out of the killer. Her Empathy was a whole fat lot of help right now.

Well, it wasn't like it was going to magically get more useful if she laid back and moped about it. Ahsoka sat up and fixed the forensic scanner with a firm look. "Hey. I know you're not a droid and you don't have personality programming, but you can still hear me so listen up. We need to find what knocked everyone out and where it is, so you better act like a kriffing professional and get it together, or Master Kenobi is going to be very disappointed in both of us."

The forensic scanner said nothing, like a coward. Ahsoka crawled off the Senator's bed and closed the door. Even though they'd been left open for the heat of the house to keep them from freezing over, all of the open doors were weirding her out. She felt like someone was going to jump out and scare her any second. She pulled her fur cloak closer and kept a wary eye on her surroundings. She still didn't know what made that creak, and she wasn't about to consider any osik like it being the house settling.

The house was a kriffing millennium old. It was settled. The only thing unsettled was her. Maybe Amber had another aktapan waddling around somewhere? If so, she hoped she found it soon. She saw frost building up on the inside of the windows, and the naked little beasties didn't do well in the cold.

She went to Aed-Han Moridak's room next and did a preliminary forensic scan of the surroundings; zilch, of course. She checked the curtains, the bedding, under the bed, the fireplace mantel, the fresher; nothing. She ripped his bag apart, finding nothing but a change of clothes, underpants, toiletries, and a small bag of stones. She scanned them all and got nothing. "Where is it?" Ahsoka groaned, flouncing onto the bed with a huff. Maybe if she called Anakin… no, of course she couldn't, what was she thinking? He'd totally gloat at her inability to do anything without him and tell Obi-Wan he had helped her, too, because he was a brat and liked to one-up her like they were competing Padawans. It wasn't that she didn't want to be Anakin's Padawan—Master Yoda had given her the choice, and she didn't regret it for a second—but she still wished he'd chill out a little with the contests.

Times like this, though, she often wondered if he'd felt the same when he was Obi-Wan's Padawan. It didn't feel like enough to just follow orders. She wanted to find something, to impress him. She should have just been able to spot the stupid murderer, but with her Empathy fritzing out she felt about as useful as a mop in monsoon. She didn't like it. Plus, she wasn't just letting Obi-Wan down with her failure but Anakin, too. He was the one training her to be a Jedi, so it hardly reflected well on him if his Padawan wasn't good enough to find the evidence. She could deal with embarrassing herself with her failure—she'd hate it, but she'd deal—but she couldn't bear to let Anakin down on top of it.

He was a brat, but he was her brat, and she'd eat glass before failing him.

Ahsoka sat on Aed-Han's bed, crossed her legs, and pulled her cloak closed so she was in a warm cocoon of tauntaun fur. "I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me," she whispered, breathing deeply in, and out, in, and out…

I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

Knowledge.

Knowledge.

If only she had the kriffing knowledge of how they were drugged. Ahsoka opened her eyes with an annoyed whine, her rear lek slapping her back in rhythmic annoyance. "It's no use," she grumbled. She put the Laird's luggage back together, climbed off the bed and left, sliding the door shut behind her.

Creak.

Ahsoka spun, immediately on guard with her heart in her throat. She opened her mouth and clicked her tongue softly, trying to get a bead on where it was coming from. If she didn't know better…

She eyed the Baron's bedroom door. She saw enough dead bodies, she had no desire to hang around another. She slipped into Do-Nal's room instead and began her scan.

◿♢◺

When Obi-Wan reentered the library proper, he was faced with an oppressive wall of silence from the stewing guests. Mica and Ruby were on opposite sides of the room, both refusing to look at one another. Pearl sat by her Vice Chairman in a padded chair, her bald head propped up by one hand, clearly exhausted.

Fal-Vee sat between Amber and Chalcedony as stoic as ever. Chalcedony was curled up in a ball, tears streaming steadily, while Amber was still hiding under her blanket. Fal-Vee stoked the fire with the same stony expression he had worn the whole night.

Tourmaline and Do-Nal had sequestered themselves near the door to the hallway and were whispering furiously in Máor-Grasta; they stopped as soon as they spotted Obi-Wan, which made him regret his decision to send Ahsoka upstairs.

"How's it looking, Commander?" Obi-Wan asked Cody quietly.

"They've been quiet for the most part since you shouted." He pointed towards the door with his lips. "Those two have been whispering for the last few minutes, but I couldn't catch a word. They seem angry, though. Maybe we should bring the Commander back?"

"Her hearing is better, but she wouldn't understand them either," Obi-Wan said lightly, hopefully reminding him that they didn't want the guests to know that Ahsoka spoke Máor-Grasta. "We'll take another break once I'm done with Do-Nal so I can check on her."

"I can go now," Cody immediately offered.

"We need someone to supervise them," Obi-Wan said, patting him on the shoulder. He sensed concern for Ahsoka in the Commander's heart. "Don't worry. She's a Jedi. She can handle anything that comes her way."

"Yes, Sir." Cody looked unhappy, but returned to standing at parade rest.

"Do-Nal," Obi-Wan called, and jerked his head towards the office.

"Chan eil an còmhradh seo seachad," the warchief murmured to Tourmaline before breaking off.

Obi-Wan closed the door behind them and locked it. "Thank you for speaking with me." He reached for the bottle of poitín to pour the young warchief a drink.

Do-Nal snatched it before he could and took a swig straight from the neck. "Tha thu a’ bruidhinn do chànan mhàthaireil, a charaid, nach eil?" he asked roughly, wiping the dregs away with a backwards swipe of his freckled hand.

"I do," Obi-Wan conceded, switching to Máor-Grasta. "Would you prefer to continue like this?"

"Aye. Let us speak as our ancestors did." Do-Nal laughed. "We sit in my ancestors' home, drinking their liquor by candlelight. It's almost like the times before."

"It's the enemy's liquor you're actually drinking," Obi-Wan pointed out.

Do-Nal's face soured. "They may have distilled it, but it's my family's recipe."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. "They've stolen even that from you, then?"

"Indeed they did."

"The Stargrains have greatly profited off of your family." Obi-Wan traced the rim of his still-full glass. "In every way. They took your home, your lands, even your family recipe and bottled it for sale. That must be frustrating."

Do-Nal rolled his eyes. "I didn't kill Jasper."

"You had reason to."

"Everyone in that room had a reason to kill Jasper."

"Even Amber?" Obi-Wan asked lightly.

Do-Nal's smirk dropped. "Maybe not everyone."

"The girls seemed to love their father well enough. Chalcedony, though…" Obi-Wan trailed off, watching for his reaction out of the corner of his eye. "From what I witnessed, Jasper certainly favored Tourmaline."

"She was his heir." Do-Nal's eyes softened. "I can't believe she's the Baroness, now. It's so strange to think of her like that."

"You should be pleased. She's carrying your child."

"Pleased?" Do-Nal's brows furrowed together into a solid line. "Why would I be pleased to have a surprise child out of wedlock with a woman I don't love?"

"You've reclaimed your ancestral lands, haven't you? For your child, at least." Obi-Wan sipped at his poitín, watching the realization hit Do-Nal like a rogue wave. The boy had absolutely no sabacc face. He could tell that he hadn't even considered the implications. It certainly spoke to his lack of foresight. The odds of him being the one who had killed the Baron dropped dramatically in Obi-Wan's mind.

"I suppose," Do-Nal finally answered. "That… you're right. I have. I never thought about it like that." He leaned back and crossed his arms, eyes still far away and lost in thought. "That does explain why she got so angry when I proposed to her."

"Oh? And when did this happen?"

"Ten minutes ago," Do-Nal said, huffing a short laugh.

"And she was less than enthusiastic?"

"I didn't make a pretense and tell her I loved her, but I won't let my child grow up without a father." Do-Nal scowled. "But Donny, well… Donny will get over it. I hope. She's more forgiving than Termi, always has been. Lass couldn't carry a grudge in a bucket."

"Do you care for her?"

"I care for her the same as I do Termi. They're like my sisters. We grew up together." Do-Nal sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I may have accidentally reclaimed my birthright through my stupidity, but this whole situation is a nightmare. This isn't how I wanted to start a family."

"I imagine." Obi-Wan nibbled the edge of a shortbread biscuit. "Do you have another lover that will find your predicament unsavory?"

"No," Do-Nal practically growled, shooting him a dirty look.

Obi-Wan paused. The boy was turning red very quickly, causing his freckles to stand out starkly against his skin. "Was Tourmaline…" he trailed off.

"Was she what?" The Force cringed around Do-Nal; he was embarrassed, but why?

"Was she your first lover?" Obi-Wan asked, taking a guess.

Do-Nal turned puce. He nodded and looked away, looking younger than ever.

"I see."

"I'm a faithful man," Do-Nal said defensively. "I had planned on waiting until I found a good wife to spend my life with before… before."

"I'm not judging you."

"It certainly feels like you are!"

"I promise, Do-Nal, I am the last person in the galaxy who would judge you for sex outside of marriage." Obi-Wan took a delicate sip of his poitín and let the boy ponder the implications. Máor-Grasta men were expected to save themselves for marriage, to not plant a strange seed in a neighbor's garden as the saying went. It seemed as though Do-Nal took after his father in that regard. "Walk me through your evening after we all retired."

"I went to my room, spoke to my Da for a minute—"

"About what?"

"About not treating me like a bloody child tomorrow!" Do-Nal growled. "I am the first warchief in three generations. I will not be spoken over and infantilized for the sake of our oppressors' feelings!"

"Understandable."

"And about you," Do-Nal mumbled, looking away. "I don't much care for the way you spoke to me at dinner, Kenobi."

"I was making a point, but I apologize for being disrespectful."

Do-Nal harrumphed. "I accept."

"Thank you. Now, what did your father say?"

"He told me to get over it and to get a good night's sleep. I needed to be at my best for the negotiations. Then I went to sleep and saw nothing until you and the Tog kid woke me up." Do-Nal looked up. "Do you think they'll still happen?"

"That is up to the delegation, not me."

"I suppose we could vote, but there's three of us on either side and our tie-breaker is currently staring at his own arse." Do-Nal shuddered. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't speak of the dead without compassion."

"You knew him growing up?"

"Aye. My Da brought me here all the time to stay when my mother was having trouble." Do-Nal's face darkened with the memory. "I won't pretend to have liked Jasper all that well, but I didn't kill him."

"Why didn't you like him?"

"Because he was a vulture."

Obi-Wan tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"Old Jasper liked to play at being Máor-Grasta. Fancied himself a modern Laird. He even wore the Kamobel tartan." Do-Nal was going red again, and this time it wasn't from embarrassment. "It's as you said. He stole our lands, our clothing, our poitín recipe—our women, even."

"You don't approve of Sio-Bhan's attempt to build a bridge?"

"It didn't build a damn thing but a wall between her and her people. They looked at her like a blood traitor. Even Fal-Vee could barely look at her for five years, and she was like a sister to his wife." Do-Nal took another swig of liquor.

Obi-Wan sensed he was trying to keep his hands busy more than anything and silently pushed the packet of cookies in his direction. "Did your militia start the fire that killed the Blacklace family?" he asked.

Do-Nal shook his head angrily. "No. No. I swear it on the stars, I didn't order it."

"When Baron Stargrain contacted the Jedi Council for their assistance, he claimed that he knew it was you." Obi-Wan watched the shock and hurt roll over the boy's face. "He said, and I quote, 'I watched him grow up. I'd bet my right leg that he is ordering these attacks.' Why would he say that?"

Do-Nal reeled back as though Obi-Wan had struck him. "He said that?" he asked, his lip trembling ever-so-slightly. "He… Jasper thought that of me?"

"He did."

Do-Nal looked away, appearing to be on the verge of tears. "I… I don't understand. Why would he say something so horrible? I've never done anything to warrant him thinking such things."

"You tell me." As much as Obi-Wan wanted to comfort the boy and ease his distress, he needed to see his reaction more, so he watched him pull himself together with a deep breath and a rough swipe across his eyes.

"I have no idea. I have never given him reason to believe I would burn children alive." Do-Nal's voice was full of hurt.

Obi-Wan was inclined to believe him. "You said before everyone in that room had a reason to want Jasper dead. Why would the Stewjonis want him dead?"

Do-Nal let out a dark, ugly little laugh. "Oh, the Stewjonis thought he was a freak. He shaved his head but grew his beard out like a Máor-Grasta man. Look at his home, at all the tapestries and decorations, nothing like the proper spartan nightmare of a good Stewjoni. Everything they make is out of sodding plascrete. Not a soft surface to be found."

"Is that a fair enough reason to want him dead?"

"He curried favor on both sides. He had moderate Máor-Grasta support because of his daughters, though it turned the older generations against him for the same reason. And he had Stewjoni support for being a Stargrain. Their—our—poitín is the most valuable export that Stewjon has. Twenty percent of their GDP, if I remember right. If Stargrain Distillery went out of business the economy would crash."

"It's that meaningful to their economy?" Obi-Wan reaffirmed, surprised.

Do-Nal crossed his arms. "If you ask me, Pearl Galethorn has the biggest reason to want him dead."

"You just said that the economy rests on the shoulders of his business."

"Exactly. He's got the monopoly. It's a dangerous thing to depend so heavily on one man. Second largest share of the GDP is a collective of granite dealers, and they make up less than two percent."

"That's quite the gap."

"Aye. She wanted to nationalize it. Take it out of Stargrain's control."

"You have a reason to think this, or is it a theory?"

"Anti-monopoly laws have been voted on multiple times in their Unicamera. Each time they were struck down by noted Stargrain allies, including Ruby." Do-Nal raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "And it would be quite convenient for him to die while he was hosting an accused terrorist. Who in their right mind would blame the Stewjonis when I'm right here?" He sounded more bitter than an underripe citron.

Obi-Wan couldn't help but see his point. "So you think the Stewjonis have plans to seize the distillery?"

"Nothing would surprise me." Do-Nal bared his teeth in a fierce grin. "But they've fumbled it by killing Jasper. Termi's in charge now, and if they think I'll let my family be bullied while I draw breath, they're in for a surprise."

If that was the plan, they had certainly made a mistake by killing Jasper. Obi-Wan couldn't help but wonder now if Tourmaline's pregnancy was a contingency against the nationalization of the distillery, rather than Do-Nal's grand plan of expulsion; either way, it was quite fortuitous for Jasper. He had recruited the most militant of Máor-Grasta activists—and a private army in the form of his militia—to his side through his daughter. Tourmaline had insisted that it was unintentional, but perhaps it was and she didn't know it.

"Thank you, Do-Nal. That'll be all." They both stood. "And for what it's worth…" Obi-Wan put his hand on his shoulders. "I think you'll be a fine father."

Do-Nal went bright red again.

Obi-Wan slid open the door and was once again greeted by unintelligible screaming; it took a few moments for his brain to switch back into Basic, and in the meantime he took in the scene. To his surprise, this time Fal-Vee was involved. He stood chest-to-chest with Mica Ashfrost, hatred for the shorter man burning like a bonfire in his eyes. Aed-Han was trying to hold him back, but despite his strength the much-taller Fal-Vee shrugged him off effortlessly. "You dare justify it!" he roared, raising his fist to strike.

He and Mica were both hit by the same stunner bolt and fell to the ground in a heap. Cody lowered his blaster. "I warned them twice, General," he said promptly, holstering it.

"How dare you!" Ruby shouted, lunging for him.

Obi-Wan raised his hand and pushed her into a chair with the Force, keeping her pinned there. "That's enough, Senator. Cody, what's going on here?"

"I'm sorry, General, but as you saw I was just following your orders." On the outside Cody was as cool as a caniphant; internally, Obi-Wan could sense him panicking. Poor man had just stunned the Mayor of Dunay-Jinn and the Vice Chairman of the planetary government, of course he was panicking. "Vice Chairman Ashfrost claimed destroying the stone circles they worship in was justified because people were more important than superstition."

Aed-Han clenched at his hair with a white-knuckled grip. "Is he dead?"

"Simply unconscious, Laird. He'll be up in no time, I'm sure." Obi-Wan released his hold on the sobbing senator.

Ruby flung herself to the ground to check on her unconscious husband. "You're all animals!" she wept, clinging to him. "Baby please, please wake up—"

Pearl stood up with her fists clenched at her sides, stark-white, shaking with anger. "Master Kenobi, you have just assaulted the Vice Chairman of the Stewjoni government."

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. Checking on Ahsoka would have to unfortunately wait.

◿♢◺

To defeat your enemy, first you must know your enemy. Ahsoka could hear Anakin's lesson echoing in her montrals as she took him at his word and proceeded to go through Tourmaline's incredibly extensive jewelry box to get to know her. She had so many earrings, shiny earrings, with clear gems and pearls and opals and little opaque chunks of quartz and they were fascinating. She held each pair up to her montrals and looked at herself in the mirror; it was a shame she only had the lantern, the bright white light was washing out the rich color of the stones. Why wasn't Tourmaline wearing any of these tonight? She had on tiny little gold dots at dinner, none of the gorgeous ones before her. It was a waste.

Ahsoka knew it was technically possible to pierce the hollow cartilage at the very tips of her montrals, but it was also dangerous and had a high rejection rate. Maybe if she got a magnet? She could just kind of… glue it onto the outside, and if it was strong enough she could just attach them on there. Not gold, though. Or silver. Durasteel was fine, but if all of the prettiest metals weren't magnetic, she supposed it defeated the purpose. And they'd probably pop off in battle. Maybe she could use a fender washer and an eye bolt and glue those to the tips of her montrals, though she'd need a nut too since fenders didn't have threading—

Creak.

Ahsoka, having narrowed down the creaking noise's location to the Baron's bedroom, ignored it. She was stalling and she knew it, but whatever was making that creaking noise was in there and it was creeping her out.

She wasn't quite sure if she believed in ghosts or not. Her education on Force echoes hadn't really been all that clear on if they were just visions of the dead or real manifestations. She'd seen a half-dozen holocrons of Jedi who spoke of seeing shades in places where the Force was incredibly strong, like Tython and Ilum, but she also had been taught that a person's soul rejoined the Cosmic Force without form, without structure, spreading out to every corner of the universe at once to run through it. But at the same time, strong, traumatic events left behind echoes in the Force that psychometrics could read, so it was all kind of confusing to her.

The Togruta part of Ahsoka did not give a single karking kriff about what she knew about the Force. It was like trying to walk through knee-deep mud. She couldn't force her body to go through the door, so she was forced to sit at a vanity and hold up pretty earrings that she couldn't wear.

She felt tears spring to her eyes and immediately wiped them away. What was wrong with her? She wasn't an animal, she should have been able to overcome the stupid, irrational fear. She'd done it for the akul, hadn't she? Even though every reflex she had had come to life at once and turned her into a snarling, roaring beast with coiling snakes undulating on her head, she still had overcome her fear and killed it. Maybe she hadn't struck the death blow with her teeth like the purists demanded, but she'd done it the old way, like when a dozen villages would band together to hunt the felines the size of a LAAT/i and lure it to a cliffside to slay.

The forensic scanner was heavy in her pocket. She put down the earrings and buried her face in her hands.

Creak.

"That's it." Ahsoka slammed her palms down on the vanity and glared at the idiot in the mirror. "Get up and go do your job. You are a Jedi. You are not a slave to your emotions. Your fear does not control you." Her lekku twitched and swelled again, trying to prove her a liar. "You will rise above it and walk into that room and find your evidence."

She grasped at the sticky fear that was choking her aura, separated it, and let the Cosmic Force wash it away as best she could. Her lekku calmed down and stopped tingling like they were falling asleep. She got up—her knees quivering only a little—and pulled her cloak tight around her. She was going into the bedroom with the dead body and the occasional creaking noise because she was a brave Jedi who could take on anything.

As she stepped forward, her saber in hand, she caught the edge of her cloak on the vanity chair. It screeched across the floor, stopped on the rug and flew back, slamming into the vanity and launching an unsecured earring of Tourmaline's sailing into the dead fireplace.

She glared at it before she pulled off her cloak, unwilling to get it covered in ashes, and crawled into the fireplace. "Come on," she grumbled, reaching through the grate. Her arms were longer than a Human's, but still a scant inch too short to reach the little turquoise bauble.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on using the Force to pull the earring to her hand. It took a few seconds of circular breathing to push away her annoyance enough to concentrate, but it smacked into her palm a few seconds later. "Gotcha." She reared up with a smirk and banged her rear lek against the grate.

"Yeep!" She clutched her lek and let out a low keen of pain. It was so sharp that her eyes watered. She bent down, almost dizzy from it. She counted the grate bars to focus and push away the pain. Kriff, she'd hit it full force and it was already swollen, and—

And one of the pipes in the fireplace was broken. With her lek still throbbing, Ahsoka leaned in for a closer look. There, on the far right side nearest the wall, was a small decorative brass pipe identical to the others, but instead of joining to the gas supply line on the left it was coming from another source. It had no burner, it was just an open hole. She traced it until it took a sharp bend and disappeared through the brick wall of the fireplace.

She supposed it couldn't hurt to scan it. She ran the forensic scanner over the open end of the pipe, and for the first time that night it lit up and chirped like a stonehopper. [L-NORYPTADONE] flashed across the blocky display.

Ahsoka stared at the device. "Seriously?" she asked it, slightly amazed. But what was L-Noryptadone? And why was it in the fireplace, of all things?

She rocketed out of Tourmaline's room and into Chalcedony's, diving for the fireplace. The same broken pipe. The same L-Noryptadone result. She ran back to her own room and checked—yep, the pipe was there, too, and it tested positive.

Ahsoka sank down to her haunches, confused. The Stargrain girls couldn't have been drugged since Chalcedony was awake to unlock their room. For a second she considered that L-Noryptadone was just the gas that they used as fuel for the fire, but if that were the case, wouldn't they have exploded with an open fuel line?

No, it was something else. It had to be. Obi-Wan was probably going to be mad at her for doing what she was about to do, but she didn't see another way; with a small mental apology towards her Grand-Master, she took a deep breath and punched the plaster wall next to the fireplace as hard as she could, making a hole. She peeled away chunks of plaster until she could see the pipe, which ran up to the ceiling and took a sharp L-bend to the right. She jumped straight up and punched the ceiling, exposing it further. A gust of freezing air poured out, as strong as the winter wind outside.

Ahsoka flung her cloak around her shoulders and grabbed her lantern, following the pipe out to the hallway. She jumped and punched another hole, verifying she was still on the right track, then followed it all the way to… the coat closet? Ahsoka shoved the coats aside and rapped on the wooden back. It echoed hollow.

Ahsoka gasped. "Secret door!" she whispered to herself. She looked around and made sure that nothing was creeping up behind her, then took a deep breath and wrenched it to the side, drawing and igniting her saber in one smooth movement.

The secret room was nothing like the others; empty, with the exception of a bed covered by an oversized sheet and a portrait of Sio-Bhan hanging on the wall over it. She looked a little older than the one in the dining room; sadder, too, somehow. The full moon in the newly-clear sky shone like a spotlight through the tall, curtainless windows.

Ahsoka turned and was faced with a row of brass pipes propped up against the wall, all originating from a single junction with a small glass bottle of pink fluid jacked into the side. The pipes led straight up and disappeared into the ceiling. There were eight; one for each bedroom, she realized. She put her saber back on her belt and crept closer, lifted the lantern, and peered at the label. "L-Noryptadone, 2%," she read aloud. "Dose dependent sedation. For… for veterinary use only? Ugh. You gotta be kidding me." Frost was starting to build up on the exposed pipes. She carefully disconnected the bottle from its slot and put it in her pocket.

Creak.

Ahsoka spun and glared in the direction of the Baron's room next door. "Hello?" she called suspiciously. "I'm a Jedi. Come out and quit playing around or I'm going to arrest you for interfering in an investigation."

Creak.

She was going to have to go into Stargrain's room anyway, wasn't she? She supposed she should at least check out the lamp that Amber was so worried about. She left the secret door open and tiptoed to Stargrain's room, her heart in her throat, and slid open the door and slipped inside before she could wimp out again. It was eerily quiet, only the sound of her own pulse throbbing in her montrals. Stargrain's body was still on his black canopy bed, though Obi-Wan had covered him with a white sheet. She averted her eyes. She didn't even want to think about the direction his head was facing. It would take a gargantuan amount of physical force to break a neck that thick.

Unless they used the Force. All Máor-Grasta were Force sensitive to some extent, it was what their culture called Grace. But according to Obi-Wan they weren't normally sensitive enough to be Jedi, and turning a neck like that wasn't easy. Maybe they had a secret Jedi among them.

There was no sign of the creaking creeper, as far as she could tell. The eastern wall was all windows with a long window seat underneath, the base of which had small doored cubbies. A small reading lamp sat inside a little recessed shelf on the side furthest from her. The blue-green tartan curtains had been left open for the cold to preserve the body, and the silver moonlight illuminated the room almost as well as daylight. The fresh snow outside gleamed like endless diamonds. It surrounded the dark loch at the far end of the grounds, its still, unfrozen waters reflecting the moon like a mirror, steam coalescing in a cloud above it.

Ahsoka clutched her cloak tight around her neck and shivered despite the warm fur. First she checked the fireplace to see if it had the same open pipe; after seeing that it didn't—and that was suspicious, to say the least—she crept around the bed and examined the reading lamp. It wasn't anything special. She pressed the switch at its base experimentally. As expected, it was still off. She sighed and turned away. There was nothing to find, she was just being a paranoid ninny.

She pulled out the bottle of tranquilizer and tossed it up and down, thinking. She couldn't make heads or tails of it. Their host had drugged them, clearly, but then why was he the one who ended up dead? Hopefully Obi-Wan would have a better idea of why—

Ahsoka squinted through the frosted-over window. Those lights down by the loch—warm and almost yellow, square like an uncovered window—they hadn't been on when she first walked in, had they?

◿♢◺

Chapter Text

◿♢◺

"You know as well as I, Master Kenobi, that under the Ruusaan Reformations, Section Eighty-One-Dash-Three, the statue there clearly describes unprovoked attacks upon heads of state as—"

"As I have said three times already, Madam Chairwoman," Obi-Wan said patiently, "the blaster's stunner was on its lowest setting. Mayor Kamobel and Vice Chairman Ashfrost will be asleep for no more than an hour. By utilizing this method of control, Commander Cody was able to prevent an attack upon a head of state. If you feel as though excessive force was used, I welcome you to contact the Jedi Council once our power is restored." Whether or not she complained was irrelevant; he needed to get a proper forensic team out to the manor as soon as possible. Ahsoka was a highly capable huntress, even at her tender age. If there was evidence to be found without technological assistance, she would have sniffed it out already and returned.

Obi-Wan eyed his nearly-full shotglass of poitín and thought better of it. An ugly stereotype of Máor-Grasta people, men in particular, was that they were all hopeless alcoholics. He'd already taken two shots in front of her at dinner and he was riding on four in less than an hour; not that it mattered, really, as now that his equilibrium had evened out it was child's play to purge the effects of the liquor. He simply preferred to not give her any further ammunition.

Pearl noticed anyway. She rolled her eyes and curled her lip in a dark sneer.

"If you've no more objections, I'd like to take the opportunity to ask you what you remember, starting from the time dinner ended to when you were awoken by Commander Cody." Obi-Wan smiled pleasantly, like he wasn't seething within.

Pearl bristled. "Surely you're not—"

"I am asking you the exact same question I have asked every other person tonight, Madam. I am simply following procedure."

"Fine. I went to my room after dinner, used the sanisteam, and then sat up for a few minutes to try and attend to some matters that required my attention."

"What matters?"

"Matters of state," Pearl said frostily. "But my holonet connection was spotty and I found myself quite tired and unable to focus after the long day. I went to sleep after only a few minutes. I didn't wake until I was roused by your clone."

"We would look a great deal more alike if he were my clone," Obi-Wan quipped, unable to help himself.

Pearl glared at him, unamused.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Do you remember hearing any screaming, or seeing anything in the halls before you retired?"

"Goodness, no." Pearl shuddered. "Though who could tell in a ghastly place like this what's an actual person and not just another garish decoration."

"Indeed." Obi-Wan supposed that when one was used to the decorating scheme of a speeder garage, the tapestries and artwork of the Máor-Grasta would look garish in comparison. "Can you think of anyone who would wish harm upon the Baron?"

"Besides the Máor-Grasta delegation?" Pearl snipped. "We sit in their home, after all. I imagine that they would snatch any chance to take it back."

"Aed-Han Moridak was raised alongside Jasper in this house. I think if that were the case he would have struck sooner, don't you?"

"I don't pretend to understand a fraction of what goes on in the mind of those people."

She made those people sound positively venomous. Despite his best attempts to not let her casual prejudice affect him personally, Obi-Wan was finding it harder and harder to bite down his sarcastic retorts. "And what of your entourage?"

"My entourage?" Pearl asked, her cheeks flush with outrage. "Mica and Ruby would never lay a finger on anyone."

"What of revenge? Perhaps Mica found out that the Baron had been abusing his wife since her adolescence."

"I don't believe for a second what Tourmaline said was true," Pearl said immediately. "Jasper would never."

"Yet Senator Seafir did not deny it when it was revealed." Obi-Wan ran a finger around the rim of the wet shotglass, playing a low note on the crystal. "Perhaps she wanted justice for what was done to her."

"Absolutely not. You're insane to even suggest it." Pearl shot him a glare that could melt lead. "This was the work of the Laird, or probably his psychopathic son. He's a violent terrorist, why haven't you arrested him yet?"

"Because, Madam, the only court he has been found guilty in is that of opinion. I do not apprehend people based on the accusations of others without evidence to corroborate their claims."

"What of the dozens of eyewitnesses?" Pearl exclaimed.

"Do-Nal was not present at the fire, nor were any of his known associates. Men allegedly wearing his colors and repeating his opinions were, yes, but unless you have evidence that you are choosing to not share, there is no proof that Do-Nal Moridak ordered that attack, or even that the perpetrators were affiliated with him."

"So you simply take him at his word?"

"No, not simply. I've spoken with him, and when I asked him about the fire he seemed genuinely devastated. I sensed no attempt to mislead me."

"The Jedi should have known better than to send you," Pearl said contemptuously. "You're clearly incapable of the neutrality we were promised."

Obi-Wan's forced smile froze on his face. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's obvious that you came here to help your people, not us." There was that venom again. Pearl leaned back in the chair, an expression like she'd stepped in something slimy twisting her features. "You'd probably love it if we all burned. You've been having a grand old time sitting in here, haven't you? Drinking booze and eating cookies with your kinsmen, pretending to take this seriously? Tell me, which one of us have you decided to pin Jasper's murder on, Ruby for being allegedly abused" —she raised her fingers in mocking quotation marks— "or Mica, as her scorned husband out for revenge?"

There is no emotion, there is peace. Obi-Wan took his anger, isolated it, and allowed the Force to relieve him of its burden. He could use her upset to his advantage if he controlled his own. "Perhaps it was you, Madam," he said softly, watching the anger pool in her eyes. Good. The angrier she was, the more she would hopefully let slip.

"How dare you," Pearl whispered. Her hands quivered with restrained rage, her cheeks and lips nearly purple from the blood rushing to them.

"From what I understand, Stargrain Distillery comprises twenty percent of your GDP. Your economy is built on the shoulders of this estate, and Stargrain keeps—kept, sorry—leaning on his cronies in the Unicamera to vote down your proposed anti-monopoly laws. If he were to be killed by an accused Máor-Grasta terrorist under the guise of peace talks, well…" Obi-Wan shrugged. "Tourmaline hardly has the same pull with the politicians, which would easily allow you to nationalize. And you would look so sympathetic having survived such an awful thing. I can't think of a downside for you, honestly."

Pearl gaped at him like a gholafish. "This is disgusting! I've never been so disrespected in my life! Who do you think you are to—to accuse me of this violence—"

"I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Madam," Obi-Wan said in the same patient tone he used to speak to toddlers. And occasionally Anakin.

"That's it!" Pearl slammed her hands down on the desk and sprang to her feet, beyond incensed. "I came here with good intentions, knowing that a dangerous blizzard was on its way! I left my security behind, I—I… I ate a stomach to appease you animals! Nothing is ever good enough!"

"Please sit down, Chairwoman." Obi-Wan gestured at her chair.

"I am leaving, and you do not have the authority to stop me, Master Kenobi." Pearl reached for the handle.

"If you open that door, I will personally testify before the Senate on all the ways the Stewjoni government has violated the treaties signed with the Máor-Grasta people in 1223 PRR," Obi-Wan said calmly. "The treaties which Stewjon's membership in the Republic is contingent upon, if you recall. Violation is cause for ejection."

Pearl scoffed. "And you think that we would not immediately join the CIS?"

"That's treasonous," Obi-Wan said mildly. "But under the guidelines of the aforementioned treaties, ownership of the planet would revert to the original inhabitants and the Stewjonis would be considered a hostile, occupying force on the Republic planet of Grasta. We would have no choice but to… escort you offworld. Forcefully, if necessary."

Her face was as white as the snow outside. "Are you threatening a genocide, Master Kenobi?"

He almost laughed at the irony. "Obviously not, Chairwoman. I am simply reminding you that you are beholden to all of the citizens of this world, not just the ones you personally descend from." He leaned forward. "Sit. Down."

She took her seat without another word, though her ramrod-straight spine and burning eyes told him in no uncertain terms how much she despised him.

"Now—" Obi-Wan began.

The door was wrenched open so hard that the lock broke. "Master!" Ahsoka exclaimed, bursting in. "I—"

Obi-Wan silenced her with a gesture. "Perfect timing, Padawan Tano. Stand behind me, please."

"But—"

Couldn't she see that now wasn't the time for backtalk? "Now," he said, hardening.

Ahsoka was clearly taken aback, but slipped behind him without further argument.

"Ke'johaar'i meh kaysh nari jehaati'an," Obi-Wan said. "Elek, ra nayc."

"Elek, Master," Ahsoka muttered in a resentful tone very reminiscent of his old Padawan.

He fixed his gaze on Pearl. "Did you kill Jasper Stargrain?"

"No," Pearl growled.

"Nayc," Ahsoka followed.

"To the best of your knowledge, did Mica Ashfrost or Ruby Seafir kill Jasper Stargrain?"

"No."

"Nayc."

"Do you know if anyone else in the manor killed him?"

"No. I know nothing."

"Nayc."

"Thank you, Ahsoka. I'll meet you outside in a few minutes."

"I…" Ahsoka trailed off at the stern look he gave her. She looked supremely unhappy, but left. It took her two tries to close the broken door.

"We've a bit of time before the ones I still need to interview wake up, so, if you don't mind, I'd like to discuss the negotiations tomorrow." Obi-Wan filled a discarded shot glass with poitín and slid it over to her.

"You think they're still happening?" Pearl asked coldly.

"Once the sun is up and the temperature has risen enough for us to venture outside safely, you and I will go into Dunay-Jinn. We will obtain the help of whatever service can fix the electricity, and yes, afterwards the negotiations will begin."

"And why would I agree to that?"

"I'm not going to lie on my report, Chairwoman. Your deplorable treatment of the Máor-Grasta is not a bargaining chip I'm using to make you temporarily behave. What I will grant you is the magnanimous opportunity to codify changes that enshrine the rights of the Máor-Grasta into law before I have to submit that report, thus preventing Stewjon from reverting to Grasta. I'd like to go over exactly what I saw and how the claims that the Moridaks have made regarding segregation, disruption of culture, and forced exodus relates to the definition of genocide under the Ruusaan Reformations. You displayed remarkable knowledge of the statutes before, I'm sure you know the section I'm referring to." Obi-Wan sipped his poitín, wondering for a brief moment what Ahsoka would say once she found out he had threatened to overthrow the Stewjoni government without her. "So what do you say, Chairwoman? Goodbye, or slainte?"

He nibbled on a shortbread biscuit as the Chairwoman inwardly stewed over the ramifications of refusing, shifting uncomfortably in her seat like she was sitting on nails. The wheels were spinning in her bald, egg-like head, undoubtedly weighing her re-election chances for the two options; either she brought equality to the two populations she governed, ensuring her current term would be her last, or she lost the planet entirely, ensuring that it was the last term for any Stewjoni.

Pearl finally raised her glass, resigned. "Slainte," she said bitterly, and threw the liquor back.

"Excellent." Obi-Wan turned on one of the blank datapads and prepared to record. "Shall we begin with the allegations of organ theft?"

◿♢◺

Ahsoka had thought that she'd seen Obi-Wan mad before, but hoo boy, the blizzard of bright-scarlet anger-outrage around him was nothing like she'd ever seen. It was like Anakin's inferno when he got mad, but Obi-Wan was cold, cold all the way down to her bones, his aura as striking and frigid as fresh blood in slushy snow.

At least it wasn't fuzzy. She had no problem reading his aura in there, nor the Chairwoman's. Whatever was affecting her ability to read them before seemed to have worn off. "I don't know what is going on in there, but it is serious," Ahsoka mumbled to Cody, sinking down on the sofa beside him.

"Oh?" Cody leaned in.

"Yeah. He's mad. Super mad. He snapped at me, which he's done maybe twice in my whole life." She shivered. She knew he wasn't mad at her, but still. "The Chairwoman's got him worked up over something, but I'm not sure what."

"Yeah, well, she wasn't too happy either when she went to the back. So what did you find that had you rushing through here without so much as a wave?" Cody nudged her, his aura green with curiosity.

Ahsoka pulled the vial half out of her pocket and tucked it back just as quickly before any of the guests could see it. "It's something called L-Noryptatone," she whispered.

"L-Noryptatone?" Cody's nose wrinkled up. "You mean sleeping gas?"

"That's what it is?"

"Yeah. Clone medics use it for field surgery. It's quick acting and wears off after a few hours, no reversal required."

Ahsoka frowned, even more confused. She knew she wasn't immune to sleeping gas, Coric had used it on her a week ago on Ceta so he could set her broken ankle before bacta. So why the kriff hadn't she been knocked out like the rest of the guests?

"Where did you find it?" Cody asked.

"That's the creepy thing." Ahsoka spied Tourmaline watching them with a sour-green look of suspicion. She shifted closer to Cody and cupped her hand around his ear. "There was a whole setup behind the false back of a closet," she whispered. "Pipes feeding into every bedroom except for the Baron's, with this vial plugged into them."

"Pipes?" Cody's aura looked as confused as she felt. "That would mean…"

"That the Baron had to be the one that drugged us!" Ahsoka finished.

"But why?" Cody asked, bewildered. "And then why did he end up—" He ran his hand across his throat with a croaking noise.

"I don't know! It makes no sense!"

Cody shook his head and looked longingly at the office door. "I wish he'd hurry up with these interviews," he said, returning to a normal volume. "The guests are getting antsy."

Ahsoka raised a brow marking. "Two of them are asleep."

Cody snorted, his aura darkening with gold. "They're stunned."

Ahsoka shook her head, sure she hadn't heard him right. "What?"

Cody's aura thickened and went flat with gray-green determination-anxiety. "The Mayor took a swing at the Vice Chair. I got them both with a stunner bolt."

"You stunned them? You actually stunned them?" Ahsoka clapped her hands over her mouth so she wouldn't laugh.

"It's not funny," Cody said irritably.

Ahsoka nodded, her hands still laced tight. Cody had stunned a pair of kriffing politicians. If what Rex told her about the Coruscant Guard was true, then they were going to die from jealousy once Cody filed his mission report.

"Pain in my shebs. Gar nari kyr'amu'an ni, Os'ika." Cody crossed his arms and sank back into the couch, grumbling something else in Mando'a she didn't understand.

"Don't beat yourself up, Commander," Ahsoka reassured him once her giggles had subsided. "You acted under orders from the General. You're not in trouble."

Cody looked grim. His aura flattened with a protective, cast-iron gray tint around the edges. "I hope you're right."

Ahsoka used his shoulder as a headrest as her thoughts turned back to the matter at hand, purring quietly and projecting green serenity to put Cody at ease. The Baron had to be the one who had drugged them, that much was clear from the missing pipe in his fireplace. But for him to end up dead, logically that meant that he had to be working with one of the guests and they'd double crossed him. But who?

Though she thought her theory on one of them being stronger in the Force than they let on was still probable, Obi-Wan had spoken to the Máor-Grasta and cut them loose. He hadn't said anything about his opinion on the Stargrain girls' involvement changing. That left the Stewjonis. Out of the three, she was leaning towards Ruby the most; she was the one who was having an affair with Jasper, and she'd let slip that she had to convince Pearl to come to the talks in the first place. Maybe she had lured them all here and then…

She glanced over her shoulder at the Senator; she sat curled in a chair at the end of a bookshelf, with swollen, wet eyes and a quivering lip. Her purple aura reached out for Mica's, sitting unconscious across from her, only to be held back by an invisible barrier protecting him. Even in his stupor he was pushing her away. Ahsoka figured it served her right for being unfaithful, but she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her at the same time. Maybe what the Senator needed was a sympathetic ear—or montral, as it were.

Cody nudged her out of her reverie. "What are you thinking?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Stay here," Ahsoka ordered. She made her way to Ruby before he could argue. She dragged a wooden stool over and sat, broadcasting amber amenability and wearing her sweetest smile.

"What do you want?" Ruby pulled her silky red kimono around her.

Ahsoka straightened her spine and did her best to look calm, stern, and professional. "I wanted to ask you a few questions."

Ruby looked down her nose, red-orange skepticism roving around her. "What kind of questions?"

"About tonight."

"What do you want to know?"

Ahsoka cleared her throat. "Where were you at midnight?"

"In bed." She sighed. "No offense, kid, but shouldn't we wait for your boss?"

Ahsoka frowned. "You can say anything to me that you would to Master Kenobi."

Mica sprang to life with a swing, lurching forward with all the grace of a three-legged eopie. He tripped over his own twisted feet and fell on his face.

"Baby!" Ahsoka let out a squeak as Ruby shoved her to rush to her husband's side. "Are you okay? Can you hear me? Sweetheart, please look at me—"

He slapped her hands away. Ruby's aura turned nearly black with violet, bruised guilt-grief.

"I would suggest staying seated until your head stops spinning," Ahsoka advised, taking her seat again with as much dignity as she could muster. "Trust me. I've been stunned more times than I can count."

Mica staggered back to his leather chair and collapsed with a huff. "What in the karking hell happened," he muttered. "I was stunned? Is that what you said, kid?"

"I'm not a kid, I'm a Jedi," Ahsoka said sourly, her rear lek slapping against her back in irritation. "But yes."

Mica snorted like an orbak. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen and a half."

"Fourteen and a half." Mica looked at his wife, grief clenching around him like a violet fist.

"Can you, um, can you vouch for your wife's whereabouts at midnight?" Ahsoka asked timidly.

"I was asleep," he snapped. "I have no idea what the hell she was up to."

"I was asleep too," said Ruby, her eyes downcast.

"Okay, and, um, do you remember seeing anything suspicious—"

"What happened to you is disgusting, Ruby," Mica said, ignoring her. "It was a crime, and it wasn't your fault. But to keep on with him, even after we were married—that's what I can't process."

"I ended it the moment I found out I was pregnant with Jade!" Ruby insisted, green desperation leaking through both her voice and aura. "I swear I ended it!"

"We've been married for three years! That doesn't make up for the first year, or our courtship, or…" Mica leaned back, surrounded with an aura like a bruise, shaking with tears that refused to fall. "Just help me understand."

Ahsoka bit her lips, unsure if she should interrupt. As juicy as it was, the conversation at hand was so not any of her business, and she almost felt guilty just for being present.

"I…" Ruby threw her hands up. "I'm the fourth daughter of a family of overachievers. He was the first person ever who made me feel like I wasn't just a spare. He believed in me. And I trusted him, and I wasn't… averse. I could have told him no. He never made me do anything."

Mica gestured aggressively at Ahsoka. "You were her age! You didn't know any better!"

And now Ahsoka was really uncomfortable. She looked over her shoulder at Cody—What do I do? she mouthed.

Stay, Cody ordered, enraptured, his aura a mint-green blanket of intrigue.

"I regret it." Unlike Mica, Ruby's tears had no compunctions about falling like twin rivers down her cheeks. "I should have cut it off completely when we began courting, but he'd done so much for my career, and he always supported me whenever I went to him, no matter how trivial the reason. But when I was with just you for those six months on Coruscant, I realized that I hadn't thought of him even once that whole time. And then I found out I was pregnant, and… and I knew for sure that my future was with you. So I ended it. I should have done it sooner but I swear, I swear, we've been over for almost two years."

Mica wanted to believe her so badly, and Ahsoka saw no silver. Well, if she was going to be trapped in an impromptu lover's spat, she may as well participate. "She's telling the truth," she said softly, breaking the tense silence. "And she feels true remorse. She loves you."

"You came here two weeks ago and stayed the night," Mica said, his voice cracking. "And Tourmaline was shouting that you've had others. How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Tourmaline hates me," Ruby said flatly. "She's full of shit. She's a jealous, lying little brat who has been trying to destroy my reputation for years because of my relationship with Jasper. There were never any others." Ahsoka saw no silver. "When I came here two weeks ago, it was to discuss the negotiations. Jasper asked me to help bring Pearl to the table. I stayed overnight, but nothing happened." Ruby gestured at Tourmaline. "Ask her! She came into my room in the middle of the night to see if I was there!"

Tourmaline looked away, the air around her turning bright yellow.

"I love you more than anything in the world except our daughter. I swear, baby, I swear I ended it. I'm sorry." Ruby pushed past Ahsoka, going down on her knees in front of him. Her aura shone with rose-gold love-desperation.

Mica met Ahsoka's eyes over his wife's shoulder. "Is she lying?" he asked, like his aura wasn't already the same matching rose-gold as his wife's. It wreathed around her, blending, melding, letting itself flow loose.

Ahsoka shook her head, smiling.

"We have a lot to talk about. More than I want to get into here, but…" Mica took a deep breath. "We'll talk."

"We'll talk," Ruby repeated, sky-blue hope brightening around her.

"Yes, baby. We'll talk." Mica pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her forehead. "I love you."

"I should have ended it much sooner. I'm so sorry." Ruby clung to him like he would disappear if she let go. Both of them were bursting, spinning with bright, rosy love, so intense it almost hurt to look at them directly.

It reminded Ahsoka of what she had seen spinning around Anakin and Padmé when he had introduced them. No matter what anyone said, she could see that the two in front of her were truly in love.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw violet guilt ribboned with yellow shame slowly swirl around Tourmaline.

"So, um…" Ahsoka let out a dainty cough, trying to get their attention. "You can vouch for one another's whereabouts when the power went out?"

Mica let out a short laugh. He loosened his grip around Ruby, who relaxed in his arms with a relieved smile. "Yes. We didn't even know it was out until the clone woke us up."

"And I have to ask, but…" Ahsoka bit her lip. "Did either of you kill Jasper Stargrain?"

"No!" they both exclaimed, shaking their heads side-to-side.

Ahsoka saw no sign of a lie. She sighed and slumped a little. There went that theory. "So Senator, when the Baron invited you here, what did you talk about?"

"He didn't think Pearl would negotiate with Do-Nal, that she'd arrest him if anything. I told him that she wasn't worried about his militia yet, but he was certain that it would escalate and it would be too late to get them to dissolve on their own. Not without someone getting hurt." Ruby wiped her nose. "And after the teahouse fire—"

"Wait a minute." Ahsoka frowned. "The teahouse fire was a week ago, but you came here two weeks ago?"

"Yes. He's been trying to mediate this for a while."

Ahsoka stood up and gave into her sudden desire to pace, her rear lek swishing side-to-side with every step. "The teahouse fire was a huge escalation, right? Otherwise they were just… just patrolling around, protecting the Máor-Grasta from being harassed?"

"There were a few incidents of my lads acting like hooligans," Do-Nal piped up from his place near the fire. "I've admitted that, and been firm with the ones who started it. There were a couple of fistfights, one or two getting smart with the peacekeepers. It wasn't anything like what they've claimed."

"What really made everyone uneasy was the gathering of so many armed men who only answered to a self-appointed warchief," Ruby said.

Do-Nal scowled. "I'm heir to the Lairdship. I have an ancient right."

"So Pearl was still unwilling to negotiate. It was the fire that was the tipping point." Ahsoka's tail sped up, trying to keep pace with her racing thoughts.

"What are you thinking, Os'ika?" Cody called.

"Do-Nal says he didn't have anything to do with the teahouse fire, and I believe him. The only explanation is that he was framed." Ahsoka spun. "What if it was the Baron who set it up to get everyone here? The jump from hooliganism to mass murder was too quick, it doesn't track."

"What is wrong with you?" asked Chalcedony, her pitch rising sharply. Her aura flashed with red lightning, pure anger ripping through her like a storm. "How could you accuse my father of—"

"Donny, tha e air an fhèis seo a dhealbhadh airson mìosan." The blood drained from Tourmaline's face, leaving her face as white as her aura. "He called Aed-Han and Do-Nal to talk four months ago. That's the night Do-Nal and I…" she trailed off, yellowing with embarrassment.

"I still have no idea why he wanted us to disband back then," Do-Nal said bitterly. "We were barely twenty strong, we'd done nothing—"

"Thòisich thu sabaid aig caismeachd Life Day!" Tourmaline snapped.

"Cha do thòisich sinn air rud damn! Chuir sinn dìon air seann Hay-Tham bho bhith a’ faighinn fhiaclan air am breabadh a-steach airson a’ phìob a chluich!"

Ahsoka rapidly tried to translate in her head; something about an old man playing pipes getting his teeth kicked in at a parade?

"You knocked out half of the peacekeepers!"

"Defensively!"

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. She didn't have it in her to listen to another screaming match, her montrals would explode. "Tourmaline, why are there pipes that feed from the secret room into every bedroom fireplace except for the one in your father's?" she interrupted.

Tourmaline stared at her. Her aura was a blank, white starburst of shock-confusion. "What pipes? What room?"

Ahsoka's back lek stopped swishing and turned to thumping. "The—"

"Yes, what pipes?" Obi-Wan asked sharply, standing in the open doorway. Pearl shoved her way out with an aura burning bright red with fury-offense.

Ahsoka stood up straighter. "I found something upstairs you need to see, Master."

Obi-Wan looked around at the guests, his face going as stern as his gray aura. "I will return shortly. Do not fight in my absence, or you will be stunned. Is that understood?"

The guests nodded meekly, except for Tourmaline. She pushed herself to her feet. "I'm coming with you." She pushed past them, her aura durasteel-gray with determination. "I want to see these pipes for myself."

◿♢◺

The bedroom faced east. The early light of dawn through the tall windows turned everything pink, including the little puffs of Obi-Wan's breath. As cold as it was, it was no surprise that the collection of brass pipes on the wall had begun to frost over.

Tourmaline stared at them in shock, her mouth agape. "This was my mother's room," she said shakily. "My father… he said it was too hard for him to see it empty, so he had the door built over."

Ahsoka handed Obi-Wan a vial from her pocket. "This is what I was going to show you."

Obi-Wan hummed, not missing the little note of reproach coloring her tone. "L-Norpytatone. If I recall—"

"Sleeping gas," she supplied. "I confirmed with Cody that it's sleeping gas."

Obi-Wan recognized in Ahsoka the same overeagerness to please—an overeagerness that toed the line of desperation—that he saw in Anakin. "Just as I was going to say," he said, softening. He squeezed her shoulder. "This was an excellent find, Padawan."

Her rear lek wagged as she smiled. "Thank you, Master."

He turned back to the Baroness. "Tourmaline, you appear surprised."

In the weak dawn light, Tourmaline's brown eyes were like black holes in her porcelain face. "Master Kenobi," she said, "I think the term you're looking for is fucking bewildered." She stumbled backwards on trembling knees until they hit the bed, falling gracelessly.

"You've no idea what this contraption is, then."

"Not a damn clue. I have never seen it before. I haven't been in this room for twelve years."

Obi-Wan glanced at Ahsoka. She shook her head; no sign of deceit, then. "Why do you think he has it?"

"I—I can't—" Tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Those pipes go up the wall, into the ceiling, and then feed into everyone's room," Ahsoka said. "It's invisible unless your head is in the fireplace."

"So he used it to pipe in sleeping gas." Obi-Wan stroked his beard as he thought. "I cannot for the life of me guess why you were unaffected, but we need to figure out why the Baron drugged us all in the first place. Tourmaline?"

"This makes no sense. None of this makes any sense at all." Tourmaline buried her face in her hands.

"You know something," Obi-Wan said calmly, stepping forward. "You must, even if you don't realize you know it. Think hard on all of the conversations you've had with your father in the last few months where something felt off or didn't make sense."

"I… I don't know! I can't think of anything! I…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "When the date was set, I told him it was a bad idea to hold it during the storm. He said the storm was the least of our concerns. That's all I can think of."

"What about the first meeting between Aed-Han and your father? You and Do-Nal had never had interest in one another before, but you did that night. Why?"

"We were drunk!"

"You grew up together, that can't possibly be the first time the two of you had gotten drunk alone."

"Well no, but—"

"I do not think it an accident that you're pregnant with the child of a Moridak, Tourmaline." Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Think about it. The two greatest threats to your family are solved with one stupid, careless night, as you put it."

"How?"

"If Do-Nal's plan of expulsion succeeded and the Stewjonis were forced back to the mainland, the family of the warchief's child would undoubtedly be allowed to stay and maintain their power. And if the distillery were nationalized as Chairwoman Galethorn so desperately wants it to be, then they would have to take it by force from the militia protecting you and your child's interests."

Tourmaline swallowed hard. "My father wouldn't plan something so heinous. He wouldn't… he wouldn't use me like that."

"What makes you so sure?" Obi-Wan asked. "Where did you sit up that night with Do-Nal? In what room?"

"Outside in the gardens first, then my room when it started raining." Tourmaline's lip quivered.

"There was a pipe in there," Ahsoka confirmed.

Obi-Wan eyed the portrait of Sio-Bhan on the wall curiously. He tilted up the corner and revealed a small, built-in cubby, the same as what was in the downstairs office. Inside were several vials, all marked veterinary use only: there was more L-Noryptadone, but it was the Ostreodine in front that caught his eye. The red glass vial was open and half-empty. "Do you remember smelling anything out of place in the room that night?" Obi-Wan asked, turning the vial over to read the dosage instructions.

"No." Tourmaline sounded unsure.

Obi-Wan tossed the vial to the Baroness. "I believe this may have had a hand in it."

"For the treatment of" —the last drops of blood drained from Tourmaline's face, leaving her as waxy and pale as a corpse— "treatment of sexual dysfunction in large mammals over one hundred kilograms." Her eye twitched. The death mask dissolved into rage. "That son of a bitch. That son of a bitch!" Tourmaline chucked the vial against the wall as hard as she could, shattering it. "He—he planned this! He planned all of this!"

Ahsoka raised her hand timidly. "I don't think he planned on having his head twisted around the wrong way. We still have to figure out who did that."

"He deserved it." Tourmaline paced back and forth across the tiny room at breakneck speed.

"Deserving or not, I am obligated to ensure that no further threat remains to you and your sisters." Obi-Wan tucked his freezing hands into his sleeves. "The sun is rising, which means the temperature is as well. Once it's safe enough to leave, the Chairwoman and I will travel to Dunay-Jinn and get someone to fix the power. I'd prefer to not leave you alone with a murderer."

Tourmaline waved her hand. "Security will come up here as soon as they can travel. One of them can fix it. It's not the first time a blizzard has knocked it out. They've probably headed out to work on it already."

Ahsoka snorted. "Hope they have a whole new junction to replace the destroyed one."

Tourmaline stopped in her tracks. "Destroyed?"

Obi-Wan gave his Grand-Padawan a look of reproach. "The power wasn't knocked out by the storm," he told Tourmaline. "It was destroyed. Burned with phosphorus."

Tourmaline wavered in place, as if she were about to collapse. "And when were you going to mention this?" she asked.

Obi-Wan shrugged. "When it became necessary to tell you."

"Hopefully your security is still alive," Ahsoka said with a grimace. "It's gotta be cold down by the loch."

"They've got a separate solar unit for their heating units," Tourmaline said bitterly. "For this exact reason. The manor holds heat much longer than a cabin. It's a shame my idiot father filled the tunnel in, we could have just gone underground."

"I wonder if the light I saw was from one of the cabins," Ahsoka said, stroking her chin as she thought.

"What light?" Obi-Wan asked.

"You can't see it from here. You have to go to, uh…" Ahsoka jerked her head in the direction of Jasper's room. "It was too frosty to get a good look, but it was a square, like a window. I didn't realize they still had power."

Tourmaline shook her head. "They wouldn't have power. The solar unit is only for the heaters. Lights are on the main circuit."

Ahsoka shrugged. "Well, I definitely saw lights down there."

A slight creak came from the direction of the Baron's quarters. Ahsoka's eyes bugged out of her head.

"I thought you searched the Baron's bedroom," Obi-Wan began, striding for the door.

"I did! I heard that the whole time I was up here! I thought I was hearing a ghost!" Ahsoka had to jog to keep up.

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. Surely she knew better than to believe in ghosts at her age. "But you saw nothing?"

"No!"

Obi-Wan unlocked the Baron's door and burst in, his hand on his saber. At first glance there was nothing, only the ornately decorated room and the dead Baron Stargrain still covered with a sheet. "Come out and surrender, and you will not be harmed," Obi-Wan announced to the freezing room. He received no answer.

"I don't sense anything," said Ahsoka.

"Nor do I." Obi-Wan checked the fresher and the closet; nothing. With no other hiding place bigger than an aktapan could manage, he went to the windows. He held his hand up to the frost-turned-ice and channeled warmth from the Living Force to the transparasteel pane, careful to not shatter it with the sudden change in temperature. A small circle just big enough to see through melted into the ice, the drippings freezing instantly around it.

"They're gone," Ahsoka said, frowning. "They were definitely there before, though. I wonder…" She switched on the small reading lamp built into the wall. "There!"

It was still dim enough for him to see the lights of a cabin down by the loch switch on with the lamp. "You turned that on before?" She nodded. "It must be hard-wired to that cabin. An emergency signal, perhaps?"

"Tourmaline, come in here!" Ahsoka called.

"I'd rather not," Tourmaline snapped from the hall.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes and sighed, exasperated. "Master, I think the Baron was the one behind the teahouse fire," she said. "I think he wanted an excuse to get everyone in one spot, trapped in a blizzard with no escape, then kill them in their sleep and pin it all on Do-Nal. Maybe this lamp was a signal for security to come up and 'discover' the murders."

"I agree. But who killed him?"

She glanced behind her at the covered corpse and shuddered. "Whoever it was, they had to be strong to have turned his head like that. Or…"

He sensed her line of thinking. "Or they possessed Grace."

"I think it was one of the Maor-Grasta," Ahsoka said, biting her lip.

He certainly hoped not, but Ahsoka was seconding what he had himself thought. "Perhaps. I haven't been able to speak with Fal-Vee yet." He led her out to the hall. "I'd like you to continue to—"

Creak.

The three all stopped dead at the top of the stairs, exchanging the same incredulous look.

"We need to get back," Obi-Wan said, concealing the shiver that ran down his spine. Something felt like it had changed, but he wasn't sure how. "Ahsoka, continue to monitor the guests. I'm going to speak with Fal-Vee and get his side of things, then try to make the trek to the security cabins."

"I've suddenly got a bad feeling, Master," Ahsoka said. Her hand shot up and rubbed the back of her neck.

"As do I." He practically ran down the stairs with a firm grip around both Ahsoka and Tourmaline's wrists. "Stay close."

A muffled thud, then a crash and the clink of breaking tile came from the direction of the kitchen. The three stopped in their tracks. "Master…" Ahsoka began.

Obi-Wan dragged them into the gloom beneath the staircase. "Quiet."

Another thud came, then a crack, then the soft slapping of wet footsteps and whispering. " …this long to hit the signal?" It was a male voice, his accent unmistakably Stewjoni.

"Doesn't matter," another voice growled back in the same cadence. "Move it. I want to get this over with."

"It's creepy with the lights off."

"Ack—dammit, I keep tripping over this karking skirt."

"It's a kilt," someone responded mockingly. "Doesn't matter. Shut up or they'll hear us."

"They're asleep, ain't they? The gas should—"

"Shut. Up."

Obi-Wan exchanged a look with Ahsoka as the stairs above their heads groaned. The footsteps overlapped, making it impossible to guess with any accuracy how many there were.

As if she'd sensed his thoughts, Ahsoka squeezed his hand hard once, then two times softly. Twelve, then.

Ahsoka and Obi-Wan peeked around the bannister once the footsteps neared the top. The hooded men creeping up the stairs in a single-file line were all dressed as Máor-Grasta, a strip of the red-green tartan of Clan Moridak wrapped around their upper arms. In addition to the blasters holstered at their sides, they carried makeshift weapons; hammers, scramball bats, one even had a heavy chain.

"Get Tourmaline back to the library and lock it down," Obi-Wan whispered. "Tell Cody that there are twelve armed Stewjonis dressed—"

"That's our security staff," Tourmaline said, trembling. "The first… that was Flint's voice. He drove you here."

Obi-Wan assumed he would not be driving them back to the spaceport once this was all over, then. "Now, Ahsoka. Go."

"There's too many, you need backup!" Ahsoka whispered desperately. Her eyes glowed in the darkness, an eerie green shine like twin moons peeking through a storm.

"I will be fine, mo nighean. Now go. That's an order." He gave her a little push towards the library.

Ahsoka turned reluctantly, Tourmaline's wrist firmly clasped in her little hand. "Good luck," she whispered, creeping away.

Obi-Wan smiled. "No such thing." He waited until the echo of the girls' footsteps faded, then took a deep breath and headed up the stairs.

◿♢◺

Ahsoka slammed the library door shut and locked it, trying not to cry. Obi-Wan was going up there alone. Alone. Every instinct she had screamed to run upstairs after him, but she'd been given a direct order. She wished Anakin was with them more than ever, if only so he could tell her what to do.

"Doing what the Jedi Council says, that's one thing. How we go about doing it is another."

Who was she kidding, she knew exactly what Anakin would do in her place, and it didn't involve sticking around to babysit a bunch of government goons. Obi-Wan had told her to lock everyone in the library, but he didn't technically tell her to stay with them.

"What's happened, lass?" Aed-Han asked, rising from his crouch at Fal-Vee's side. The taller man was barely awake and still bleary, his aura a muted, fuzzy turquoise with protection-fear.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and steadied her nerves, ordering her stupid hindbrain to stop panicking, her lekku to stop twitching unhappily. While her instincts insisted that she'd abandoned a clan-mate to die alone, her logical side reminded her that Obi-Wan was a perfectly capable Jedi Master who had decades of experience. He'd killed the first Sith in a thousand years when he was only a Padawan. He could handle a few security guards with hammers. "We saw—"

"My fucking bastard of a father is behind all of this!" Tourmaline interrupted, her aura still bright scarlet with the rage of before. "We just saw our own security dressed in Máor-Grasta clothing come through the tunnel, all armed with bloody hammers."

The blood drained from Chalcedony's face. "No," she whispered, shaking.

"To do what?" Do-Nal demanded, mint-green with confusion.

"To kill us, laser brain!" Tourmaline snapped. "Or at least you idiots."

"To—" Pearl's hands fluttered at her throat. Beside her, Ruby and Mica clutched at each other, both flaring with protective teal.

"The fire!" Do-Nal said, his eyes going wide. "He—"

"The fire, yes," Tourmaline said, exasperated. "It was Father. He planned it all."

"Where is General Kenobi?" Cody demanded over Tourmaline and Do-Nal's bickering.

"He went upstairs after them," Ahsoka said, still working on getting her heart rate down. Her lekku were starting to swell again, for the love of Ashla—

His bucket went on. "Then you stay here. I'll back him up."

Ahsoka put her hand on his chest, stopping him. "Nuh uh."

"Nuh uh?" Cody practically growled. "The heck do you mean, 'nuh uh?' May I remind you that I outrank you, Padawan Commander Tano?"

"You may, Marshall Commander Cody. We're both going. I simply request that you wait a shabla second for me to regain control of the room before charging out there like a shiny with a paintjob to earn." Ahsoka turned, took a deep breath, and growled.

Everyone in the room all jumped a foot in the air, going stark-white with shock-fear.

Ahsoka smiled, pleased with herself. "Tourmaline, are there any weapons in this room?"

"Right here." Do-Nal pulled his robe open and retrieved a DL-44 heavy blaster pistol from a thigh holster.

"Don, you're supposed to come unarmed to a feast," Fal-Vee said, frowning severely with a deep, slate blue aura of disapproval.

Do-Nal's cheeks went as red as his aura went yellow. "I think my Grace told me to bring it anyway for this very moment." He tilted up his chin.

Pearl sighed, turning brown with resignation, and revealed a snub-nosed S-195 strapped to her thigh. "Can you blame me?" she asked.

"Great. I want all of you in this back corner, together, with no fighting." Ahsoka projected as much pewter authority as she could muster and pointed at the furthest row of shelves in the north-east corner. "Stay down, stay quiet, and shoot anyone who isn't me, Cody, or Master Kenobi. Got it?" She marched over to Amber's chair and pulled the blanket off of her head. "Come on, kiddo, we have to—"

Leannan blinked up at her sleepily, her trunk waving in a little gesture of hello. Amber was gone.

The sound of everyone's panicked shouting hit Ahsoka's montrals like a turbo-train. Their auras battered at her shields like a whole legion of bright white, anxious ghosts. She frosted her mental shields over to protect herself and held out her hands. "Quiet, quiet!" she hissed.

"We have to go out there and find her!" Tourmaline exclaimed.

"I'm going." Aed-Han drew himself up to his full height of Cody's shoulder pauldron.

Ahsoka wanted to scream. She squeezed her lekku until they stung. "No. No. Cody, with me. Do-Nal, Aed-Han, barricade the door after we leave."

"I said I'm going," Aed-Han said defiantly.

"Cody, stun him."

Cody raised his blaster. "Please, Laird, don't force my hand."

Aed-Han scowled and crossed his arms, glowing red with outrage. "You may as well. It's the only way you'll stop me from going out there to find her, with or without you." The red faded to silvery-green determination.

Fal-Vee stepped up behind him, looming over the smaller man. His hand found his friend's shoulder. "I'm coming as well," he rumbled.

A tingle ran down Ahsoka's spine. She sighed and pushed Cody's blaster down. "Fine. But you stay behind us, understand?"

Aed-Han broke into a ferocious grin. "Aye, lass, you lead the charge."

Ahsoka looked to Do-Nal. "You're staying to protect them, warchief."

"Aye," Do-Nal said solemnly. He handed Leannan to Chalcedony and ushered them to the corner.

Ahsoka readied her saber. "Let's move."

◿♢◺

The false militia had all scattered at the top of the stairs, each taking a door. Obi-Wan slipped through the darkness and took shelter in the false closet, listening. It wouldn't take more than a few seconds for them to discover the guests were gone. His saber remained at his side. He had a very brief window to incapacitate as many as he could, hopefully without killing anyone.

It would be a lie to say that it hadn't been part of the reason he had sent Ahsoka to guard the guests. She had to have killed hundreds of battle droids by now, but to his knowledge, she'd never taken the life of a sentient. She'd already experienced two firsts on this mission. It would stay that way if he had anything to say about it.

"Flint!" one of them hissed. "Flint, there's no one here!"

"Nobody in here, either."

"Are they all empty?"

"Where the hell could they have gone? What about the gas?"

"Shit, shit—"

Obi-Wan slipped across the hall into the room Fal-Vee had been assigned. The imposter standing beside the bed gasped and raised his hammer.

"Sleep." Obi-Wan caught him on the way down. He yanked a rope tassel from the curtains and used it to quickly tie him up. He left him on the far side of the bed out of sight.

"We need to split up and search."

"Do you think the Baron is with them?"

Obi-Wan sensed another man in Aed-Han's room. He darted through the door and repeated his command to Sleep. After he slumped bonelessly to the ground, he used the man's belt to tie his hands.

"The Baron's door is locked." Someone quietly knocked. "Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"

Creak.

"What was that?"

"Someone is in there. We need to get this door open."

Obi-Wan stuck to the deepest darkness of the hallway and slipped into his own room, where he sensed two men. They were facing away from him, whispering.

"How many people were staying in here?"

"Can't you karking count? Obviously three."

"Yeah, but—"

The one on the left turned at the same moment Obi-Wan struck, meaning that his attempt to crack the man's head against his partner's sent the two lurching awkwardly towards one another like a pair of unbalanced ice dancers. Their legs tangled and they fell together on Cody's cot with a crash, collapsing it. "Fu—" Obi-Wan bit down his curse and flattened up against the wall beside the door.

"The hell was that? Jett? Jett, what was that crash?"

"Why'd you do that?"

"I didn't do anything, it was like I was pushed!"

"So was I!"

"Nobody's here to push us, idiot, which means you did it!"

"Like hell I did!"

Someone approached the door. "What are you two doing in there?" He hissed from outside. "Be quiet!"

Creak.

If it was a ghost, Obi-Wan owed it his thanks. The noise pulled the man at the door away. As soon as he was clear he dove over the bed and landed on the tangled, struggling morons on the ground. He kicked one hard in the head at the same time he pulled the other into a sleeper hold, knocking them both out before they found their feet. He used the sheets to tie them together and shoved Ahsoka's discarded socks in their mouths.

"Flint, no one's up here. We have to search downstairs."

"Help me get this blasted door open first."

"Wait, did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I swear I saw a shadow move." The remaining men clustered outside of Obi-Wan's hiding spot. "Damn. You think they're up?"

"We've got blasters for a reason."

"We can't use 'em, the bloody star worshippers don't carry them. Why do you think we brought this shit?"

"There's kriffing Jedi here, I ain't going at a Jedi with a bat!"

Creak.

"Dammit. Ceylon, take three men down there and search all the rooms. If they're anywhere, they'll be in the library where the heat still works."

Karabast. Obi-Wan readied his saber and took a deep breath. He'd hoped to not have to take any lives tonight.

"Hey! Hey you! Get back here!"

His heart stopped. The unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting split the claustrophobic silence, immediately followed by panicked screaming and blaster fire.

◿♢◺

Ahsoka shoved Fal-Vee and Aed-Han forward with the Force into an alcove in the great hall. Cody yanked her so hard backwards into the opposite alcove that her feet went up into the air.

"Did Rex teach you sword and shield formation?" he asked calmly, firing blindly around the wall.

"He and Anakin only invented it." Ahsoka grinned. "Ready, Commander?"

Cody laughed, his aura turning golden orange with humor-excitement. "After you, Commander."

Ahsoka slid out of cover, protecting Cody with both her body and saber as he fired at the four shooters over her shoulders. She batted back the bolts sent their way, careful to aim for their limbs instead of their heads; they weren't battle droids, and her muscle memory was working against her. Three more men turned the corner and hustled down the stairs, firing wildly. She knocked the blaster away from one of them. He reeled back howling, clutching what was left of his burned hand.

"Cover!" Cody bellowed. Ahsoka moved in tandem with him, spinning back into the alcove after sending one last bolt in their direction. "Nice work, Commander."

"Thank you, Commander," Ahsoka said with a grin.

Across the hall, Fal-Vee and Aed-Han were having a spirited argument that she couldn't make out. Aed-Han pushed his friend away, picked up a granite bust, and chucked it straight-armed towards the stairs. It hit one of the men on the left in the face with a sick crunch.

Aed-Han cackled, glowing blue with pride as he retreated back to cover. "I told you it wasn't heavier than a clach neart," he boomed.

"I said I was guessing," Fal-Vee retorted.

"Again?" Ahsoka asked Cody.

"Ready when you are."

They stepped out again. Cody's first shot hit one man in the shoulder, taking him down. Ahsoka sent the bolts of another back and popped him in his leg. They ducked back into the alcove. "Next time we move forward so I can get within range!" she shouted.

"Staying out of range is working just fine," Cody retorted, his aura bright teal with protection.

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "Cody…"

"As long as I'm in charge of you we're playing it safe, Os'ika."

"You're not in charge of me!"

"I outrank you," he sang.

"Behind, behind!" one of the shooters screamed, his aura bright white with pure fear.

Obi-Wan descended on them, his lightsaber moving faster than Ahsoka's eyes could track, his aura a thunderstorm of turquoise protection-determination. In one graceful movement, he cut off the shooting hand of two different men, shoved another shebs-over-cafpot down the stairs with the Force, and kicked the fourth in the face. The last man, the one who had caught Ahsoka's returned blaster bolt with his thigh, fell to his knees. "I surrender!" he whimpered, raising his shaking hands above his head. He was barely audible over the cacophony coming from the screaming men on the stairs who clutched at their stumps. "I surrender, please don't kill me!"

"I happily accept," Obi-Wan said pleasantly. He extinguished his saber and relieved the man of his weapons. "Hands on your head, if you don't mind."

"Master!" Ahsoka charged out of the alcove.

He met her at the bottom, light-blue relief and chartreuse annoyance at war in his aura. "I believe I gave you a direct order to stay in the library, Padawan," he said reproachfully.

Ahsoka's lekku went warm. "Technically, you told me to lock the guests in the library. You didn't actually tell me to stay."

His green-yellow exasperation told her exactly what he thought of that explanation. He tossed the blasters and melee weapons across the room with a gesture. "All of you get down here," Obi-Wan said sternly to the groaning, rolling men on the stairs. He took a deep breath, let it out, and waved his hand. "You want to go to the dining room and stay there until you are collected."

The men repeated the Command in various tones of pain and shuffled away like exhausted younglings. One held his severed hand to his chest, sniffing back tears. Once they had closed the door behind them, Obi-Wan turned and gave her a look. "Now what possessed you to come out here and endanger the lives of the Laird and Mayor?"

"Because Amber is missing!" Ahsoka said urgently.

"Missing?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows went up. "She's not in the library?"

"No, and we have no idea how long she's been gone."

Obi-Wan's aura turned pale gold with a flurry of shock-epiphany. "The creaking!"

Ahsoka smacked herself in the forehead. "It wasn't a ghost, it was Amber sneaking around!"

"Amber!" Aed-Han shoved Obi-Wan aside and charged up the stairs. "Amber, lass, where are you?"

Obi-Wan grabbed at him and missed. "No wait, there's still one more!"

The heavy blaster shot left Ahsoka's montrals ringing. Aed-Han flew backwards down the stairs with a hole punched clean through the right side of his chest. Obi-Wan braced himself and caught him, but not without losing his own feet. The two tumbled down in a tangled pile of limbs. Obi-Wan's head hit the stone floor with a piercing crack! that echoed through the great hall.

"Master!" Ahsoka cried, rushing to his side with her heart in her throat. She rolled Aed-Han off of her Master and checked his pulse. He was alive, barely. Fal-Vee went to his friend and she turned back to Obi-Wan, her lek thumping wildly against her back. "No please, open your eyes, you're okay, you're—" Her hands fluttered around his face, unsure; did she move him? Did he hurt his neck too?

"Everyone shut up!" The man at the top of the stairs was dressed like the rest of the fake militia in bright-colored, repurposed clothing and a strip of the red-green tartan kilt of Clan Moridak. His hood had fallen down, the tattooed spirals on his bald head standing out in stark relief against his scarlet face and scalp; scarlet that matched his aura pulsing with rage-fear. He held the sobbing Amber against his chest with his blaster pressed hard against her temple.

"Flint, please don't hurt anyone!" Amber begged.

"Toss your weapons or I'll blow her damn head off!" He pressed the blaster harder against her head.

"Master, please wake up," Ahsoka whispered. He lay completely still, his chest barely rising up and down with shallow breaths. His aura was flat and colorless; unconscious. The smell of blood hit her nose seconds before a slow trickle of it began to leak from his right ear. "No, no, no—"

"I said throw your weapons down!" Flint roared. "That means you too, tailhead!"

Ahsoka growled but tossed her saber across the room. Cody followed with his blaster, his aura a noxious-green cloud of disgust-frustration.

"Good. Now move. Either of you try to stop me…"

Ahsoka eyed his blaster hand. She could try to pull the heavy blaster away, but not in time to stop him from shooting Amber.

"That's right." Flint struggled down the stairs with Amber in his arms, nearly falling on a hammer Obi-Wan had missed. He was distracted. Now was her only chance. Ahsoka held her hand out and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus—

The smell of Obi-Wan's blood was so sharp in her nose, his tiny gasping breaths, the rapid pit-pat-pit-pat of his heart—

"Hey!" Flint barked. "You wanna die too, Jedi? Put that little witch hand of yours down!"

Ahsoka let her hand drop with a choked sob. She was a failure, a stupid, useless excuse for a Jedi. She should have just stayed in the library and let Obi-Wan handle it, and now he was going to die and it was her fault, and Anakin—oh sweet mercy, when Anakin found out it was her fault—

"Gabh anail domhainn, mo nighean." Fal-Vee slowly rose from Aed-Han's side, his hand low and outstretched.

The order wasn't directed at her, but Ahsoka automatically sucked in a slow, deep breath. I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me. The panic that gripped her like an akul slowly withdrew its claws.

"Anamchara," Amber whimpered, the blaster once more against her temple.

Anamchara? Ahsoka wracked her brain. She didn't know that word.

"Fuirich sàmhach," Fal-Vee said calmly. It took Ahsoka a moment to translate the words in her head. Stay calm. "'S e draoidh a th' annad. Tha fios agad mar a chuireas tu stad air." You're… something, you know how to stop him. Maybe anamchara was another word for teacher?

Amber's tears streamed down her face. "Chan urrainn dhomh a bhith nam dhraoidh tuilleadh. Chan ann às deidh na rinn mi."

Ahsoka's brain could barely keep up: she couldn't be a something after… something… after what she did?

Fal-Vee's aura darkened with realization-horror. "Rinn thu sin," he whispered, heartbreak written on his face.

Ahsoka gasped. "It was you?"

Cody looked between Ahsoka and Amber, his aura bright white with surprise. "It was her?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"Stop barking, dogs!" Flint snarled.

Fal-Vee dropped to a knee beside Obi-Wan and checked his pulse. He took a deep, shaky breath. His forehead was damp with sweat, and he looked exceptionally pale in the dawn light.

"Leig leis mi a mharbhadh." Amber whispered.

Fal-Vee jerked. "No!"

"I said shut up!" Flint screamed. A purple vein popped out of his forehead. "One more word and you'll see your own brainstem!" His aura spun around him like a tornado, anger-fear-guilt blurring together.

Fal-Vee struggled to his feet, breathing like he'd run a full lap around The Resolute. He wiped one sweaty palm on his trousers and held it up pleadingly. "She's just a child," he pleaded. "If you want a hostage, I'll gladly take her place." He turned so Ahsoka could see that he had Obi-Wan's lightsaber concealed against his forearm.

"She'll do just fine." Flint finally made it to the bottom of the long staircase. "Move to the side. I said move!"

Fal-Vee yanked Ahsoka out of Flint's path, at the same time passing Obi-Wan's lightsaber to her behind his back.

"I'll be the m'onnok," Cody mumbled. His aura burned bright orange with excitement-determination.

Ahsoka stared at him, confused. He'd be the m'onnok? Like… like the dejarik piece?

"Slàinte, mo nighean, it's always wise to take the advice of your officers into account before entering any battlefield."

Oh. Oh. Cody had helped her set a trap for Obi-Wan's brute. She had sent her m'onnok forward to distract the molator, gotten Obi-Wan to give her the savrip's back, then assassinated it from behind with the k'lor'slug.

Cody's hand went to the vibroblade concealed in his gauntlet.

"Don't move. I said don't karking move!" Flint walked backwards towards the kitchen slowly, keeping the blaster trained on them. "Go to the library, now. Go!"

"Tarraing i," Ahsoka muttered to Fal-Vee. His aura went stark-white with surprise.

"Are you deaf? I said go!" Flint jammed the barrel so hard against Amber's head that a purple mark began to bloom on her temple.

"Okay," Ahsoka said smoothly, backing up. "We're going. Just one quick question." Behind her back, she flipped the saber into a reverse grip.

"And what's that?" Flint sneered.

Ahsoka grinned, letting her fangs poke below her lip. "Are cailpeachs real or just a myth?"

Flint frowned, his aura turning to green mist in his confusion. "What the hell is a cailpeach?"

"Now!" Cody whipped his knife at Flint's face; with a shout of effort, Fal-Vee reached out and yanked Amber from his grasp with the Force; Ahsoka leapt high in the air, and taking advantage of the great hall's four-story ceiling, flipped across the room and landed behind Flint, igniting Obi-Wan's lightsaber midair. He had recoiled away from Cody's knife, raising his dominant—in this case, his shooting—hand as he reflexively turned. She sliced it off while he was flailing and kicked him as hard as she could in the spine. He flew forward and landed hard on his belly, howling like a wounded massiff.

Ahsoka knelt on his back, grinding her kneecap into his spine with grim pleasure. "You are under—stop struggling, dalgaan—under arrest!" She slipped her arm around Flint's neck and squeezed until he went limp.

"Well done, Commander." Cody retrieved his blaster and tossed her saber, stepping around the pair of hugging Máor-Grasta. "I'll get him sorted. Go see to the General."

Ahsoka scrumbled on all fours to Obi-Wan's side. His aura wasn't so flat and colorless anymore. Was he waking up? Behind her, Cody plugged Flint in the chest with six consecutive stunner bolts and a kick for good measure. "Master?" Ahsoka swallowed hard and leaned down to murmur in his ear, "Bobi?"

Obi-Wan groaned, his eyes fluttering open. "Ahsoka?"

"Bobi!" Ahsoka collapsed beside him with a relieved purr, frantically rubbing her lek on his cheeks. His heartbeat was fast, but strong. She didn't know how but he was okay, he was alive, he was alive…

"Ahsoka, where did… what…" He swiped at his ear. "Is this my blood? But where's the wound?"

Ahsoka ran her fingers through his thick hair, just as confused as he was. There was no wound, only a sticky patch of blood from his ear. He had to have a concussion, but somehow, miraculously, there was nothing. She threw her arms around him and squeezed, so relieved she almost forgot how to breathe.

"Steady yourself, Padawan." Obi-Wan gently pried her off of him with an aura purple with reluctance-apology. Later he'd give her the hug she could sense he wanted as much as she did, but right now he had to be the unflappable Jedi Master. "Tell me what happened. Is everyone alright?"

"The Laird…" Ahsoka began, her heart sinking.

Aed-Han sat up like he'd been electrocuted, feeling at his chest in a panic. He ripped open his robe. The wound was gone, with only a perfectly circular disc of healed pink flesh to show it was ever there at all.

" …is fine?" Ahsoka finished, confused. To her further surprise, the Laird opened his arms and accepted the sobbing bundle of red hair that was Amber, immediately soothing her with soft murmurs in Máor-Grasta and a hug tight enough to cut off circulation. Even his aura embraced her, a glowing copper cloud of love enveloping her in its mist.

Fal-Vee collapsed onto his rear, sweating like he'd just run a marathon and a half. His aura was pale beige with exhaustion. He looked ready to fall asleep where he sat. "I'm too old for this cac," he grumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

"Too old for what?" Ahsoka asked, feeling more confused by the second.

Fal-Vee chuckled, apparently too tired to stay stoic. "Battlefield healing, lass. Not easy to seal up two men at once without killing yourself, but I've still got it."

"You have my sincerest thanks, Master," Obi-Wan said solemnly, bowing his head.

Cody tugged his vibroblade from the wooden door with a grunt of effort. "Nice moves, Commander."

Ahsoka laughed. "Nice plan, Commander."

He patted her between her montrals, beaming with blue pride. "I knew you were smarter than Rex said you were."

Ahsoka smacked his hand away with a scowl. "Rex thinks I'm plenty smart, it's gar mirsh solus."

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Perhaps the two of you geniuses could combine your powerful intellect and tell me which one of our unexpected guests killed Jasper Stargrain, then?"

Though she couldn't tell with his bucket on, Ahsoka would bet that Cody's eyes went to Amber at the same time hers did.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Amber's aura was the dark red-purple of old blood, clots of guilt slugging around her, leaving behind a noxious, smothering slime. "I was trying to stop this. Stop them. Daddy wouldn't listen, and he wouldn't look at me even when I begged, and his—and his lamp was the—the—"

"Oh, Amber," Obi-Wan said, crestfallen. His aura darkled. "How did you discover his plan?"

"I had a dream about it." Amber gulped in a shuddering breath. "A-a-and in my dream, Daddy turned on the lamp and then Flint and Jett and all of them came to the house and went in everyone's rooms, and then, and-and-and-and—"

"There, there." Fal-Vee joined Aed-Han in rubbing her back. His eyes were wet, shining with tears he tried to hold back. His aura was a wreck of deep, bruised, black-violet sorrow-guilt-regret.

"I went to Daddy's room, and I saw him about to turn the lamp on, which is how my dream started, and I realized it was real, so I begged him to stop but he wouldn't and then he wouldn't even look at me, and he told me to go back to bed and lock my door and not to listen and—" Amber shot her hand out and clenched her fist. "I didn't mean t-to do it, I just wanted him to look at me!" She dissolved into pitiful sobs.

Ahsoka couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It was no wonder that Amber had hidden herself in the Force; first she'd dreamed about everyone being murdered—she presumed brutally, given the hammers—then she'd accidentally killed her own father trying to stop it from happening.

"You saved our lives," Aed-Han said soothingly. "Even though the little Jedi was awake, she would have had—"

"She was awake in my dream, too." Amber squeezed her eyes shut, her aura going tight and black-red with remembered fear-horror.

Ahsoka was afraid to ask.

Obi-Wan smiled reassuringly, even as his aura clenched with dismay. He sought Ahsoka's hand, seemingly without realizing, and squeezed. "We should check on the others." He slung Fal-Vee's arm around his neck and helped the big man to his feet. "Cody, please escort Mister Flint to the dining room and leave him with the other assailants. Oh, and there's four more tied up upstairs, they should come down too."

"Aren't you going to arrest me?" Amber asked tearily, wiping her nose.

Obi-Wan hesitated, pale green with indecision. "This is a domestic matter," he said finally, "and therefore lies outside of my jurisdiction. I will leave it up to the local authorities to decide the next step."

"Master, wait." Ahsoka handed Obi-Wan his lightsaber.

"Thank you, Padawan." His eyes softened. "And well done. I'm very thankful the Council suggested that I bring you. I have a feeling that if I had brought your Master, things would have ended very differently."

Ahsoka bowed, her stripes practically steaming in the cold air. She saw no silver in his aura. Just copper.

◿♢◺

Chapter Text

◿♢◺

Like all of the Stewjoni architecture that had taken over the ancient city of Dunay-Jinn like a bismuth-crystal fungus, the building that house the Unicamera—and where the negotiations tomorrow would take place—was a tall, ugly box made of duracrete and transparasteel. It was easy to spot from the hotel room, standing a good ten stories higher than the surrounding buildings. The sunset softened a lot of the harsh edges of the architecture, especially with the surrounding snow practically glowing with brilliant coral light. The skyscrapers had protected the city center from the accumulation of the countryside, but not entirely. At street level, one could see the exposed peaks of Máor-Grasta thatched roofs peeking out from the deep snow. The buildings were so well insulated that their inhabitants simply carved a hole for the chimney, at more risk of suffocating than freezing to death in the hostile storm.

It had taken two trips to evacuate everyone to the city; one that Obi-Wan and Pearl took alone, leaving Ahsoka and Cody in charge of the traumatized delegation, and a second with a full brigade of peacekeepers, come to secure the crime scene and escort their intended assassins to jail—or, in the case of the gentlemen who had been relieved of their hands, to the state-of-the-art medcenter. In the meantime Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and Cody had been put up in the penthouse suite of a luxury hotel to await the start of the treaty negotiations.

Ahsoka stretched and rolled over in the giant bed, trying not to disturb Cody sleeping beside her. His breathing, the air nanofilter's gentle hum—something most Humans probably couldn't hear—and a HoloNet News & Entertainment reporter murmuring the updates of the day on the viewscreen were the only sounds. They both wore the hotel's complimentary white, plush bathrobes and lay sprawled atop the fluffy white covers, their heads facing the foot of the bed.

The whole suite was decorated like that, white on white on white; no wonder Cody was sleeping so soundly, he probably felt like he was back on Kamino. He didn't quite snore but he did let out a quiet bpbpbp with every exhale, his lips flapping softly. His sunny orange aura was muted and calm, flaring occasionally with blue happiness every so often from whatever he was dreaming of.

So many of the boys had such terrible nightmares that ended with them waking in a cold sweat, afraid to look her in the eye for reasons they wouldn't say. She had been tempted to peek into Rex's once after watching him twitch and whimper in his sleep like a scared shunka pup. She'd raised her hand, but before she could even take a deep breath a gravity wave of pure guilt washed over her. She never even considered it again.

But that didn't matter because Cody was having a good dream, and he—all of the clones—deserved to enjoy good dreams without interruption.

She was getting hungry, though. Obi-Wan had left an hour ago to fetch food for the trio. The hotel normally had room service, but because of the storm the staff was limited to housekeeping droids and one very frazzled manager, and thus the delights of the kitchen were unavailable.

She snuggled up to Cody, slipping under his heavy arm, and let her mouth hang open so she could hear the holoprojector better.

"Coming up next, it's the breakup that's shaking the galaxy—Corellian pop diva Starling Baird and scramball superstar Osric K'in of the Tholothian Thockupines have officially called it quits, both camps releasing a joint statement today confirming the end to their two-year relationship and asking for privacy in this emotional time. When we return we will be joined by Bi'lal Dseper, Dean of Economics at Fanen University on Tholoth, on what this breakup means for the Tholothian economy now that their triple-aurek scramball team no longer has the Songbairds to count amongst their fans. We'll be back after the break, stay tuned."

Cody twitched. Ahsoka adjusted so that she was flush against his chest and purred, hoping he'd drift back into dreamland. He pulled her close and buried his face in the crook of her lekku.

She grinned. Her comlink was unfortunately across the room, or she would have taken a pic to send to her captain. Maybe if she used the Force… nah, she was tired.

"From morning till night, we’ve got what you crave, a royal feast at a price that'll save!"

She watched an animated parade of bantha breakfast biscuits, nerfburgers, jerba wraps, and tato rings dance across the viewscreen. She could definitely go for a whole tray of jerba wraps right about now. Obi-Wan was always scolding Anakin for eating—and feeding her—fast food instead of healthy Temple food. She briefly wondered how many trips he'd taken there since they'd been gone.

"Biscuit Baron—where every bite’s fit for royalty!" The Baron popped up behind the foodstuffs, his outdated glareshades twinkling ominously, then devoured the anthropomorphic dinner items whole like a turbovac.

And now she couldn't stop wondering what Anakin was up to. Was he in the hangar tinkering with another junkyard salvage speeder? Had he actually remembered to eat? Did he miss her, or was he glad to have a break from her?

Cody's lips flapped in another soft bpbpbp. She was close enough—and he was holding still enough, for once—for her to get a good look at his scar. It was such an odd shape, she had to assume it was some sort of shrapnel injury. But the edges were so clean and even, raised in a continuous purple keloid, the neat edges making it look almost like… like it had been carved into him—and what a disturbing thought that was. The Mandalorian trainers that had taught the clones how to be the most fearsome soldiers the galaxy had ever seen were tough, according to Rex's occasional snippet of vode lore, but she couldn't imagine the Kaminoans would allow them to carve up their very expensive troopers. But droids wouldn't do that either, and it looked old. It had to have happened at the very beginning of the war. Maybe Geonosis? But Cody wasn't at Geonosis. Why wasn't he at Geonosis? Rex had been at Geonosis, it didn't make sense for Cody to sit it out… unless he was still recovering from what had happened?

Her abdomen rumbled, both of her stomachs making their displeasure at being empty known. She stopped purring and went still, hoping Cody hadn't heard.

No such luck. "Keep going." Cody yawned against her montral.

"Sorry." Ahsoka glared at her abdomen. "I didn't mean to wake you."

" 'S fine. Keep doing that thing. The rumble." She sensed Cody was only technically awake, his higher brain functions still offline.

Ahsoka resumed purring until he drifted off again, watching the ads stream through the holoprojector until HNE had fulfilled their obligation to their sponsors. The reporter—a middle aged Iridonian Zabrak with unnaturally symmetrical features, sharp topaz eyes, and a thick mane of silver hair that hung to his shoulders—reappeared.

"Welcome back, I'm Go-Jii Fumio and you're watching the HNE Evening Wrap. We're joined live by Professor Dsper from Tholoth on just how devastating the projected impact of Starling and Osric—or as their fans refer to them, Starric—breaking up will impact the Tholothian Economy. Professor, thanks for joining me tonight. So to start off—"

Ahsoka sniffed deeply, instantly locking onto the smell of meat. "Dinner?" she chirped hopefully. The sound of the door sliding open came a second later. "Cody, dinner." She shook him, forgetting in her excitement that she meant to let him sleep.

"You go." Cody yawned. "I have to kit up."

"Master Kenobi doesn't care if you're out of armor," Ahsoka said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

"I do." Cody waved her off. "Scram, I'll be out in a second."

She rolled out of bed and went to the sitting room. It was as sterile white as the bedroom, but with a set of overstuffed black loveseats, a transparasteel caf table, and a matching dining set to break up the monotony. The whole room practically glowed pink, the floor-to-ceiling windows letting in every radiant atom of Stewjon's sunset. "Whad'ja get?" she asked excitedly, already drooling.

"Hello to you too." Obi-Wan was in the middle of unpacking a half-dozen durafoil cartons from a brown paper bag, all but one of them steaming. Six black camtonos were stacked in the corner—she didn't remember those being present when she went to bed.

Ahsoka sat, eagerly waiting for him to finish. "What're those?" she asked, pointing at the camtonos.

Obi-Wan's glacial-blue aura warmed with soft golden humor. "My end of the bargain I struck with your Master. I had to promise to bring him a chancellor's ransom of a local brand of fizz in exchange for letting me borrow you."

"He didn't want me to come?" Ahsoka frowned. She hadn't read any sort of reluctance in his aura when she bid him goodbye.

"Not without him." Obi-Wan peeled off the top of one of the foil containers. It was chock full to the brim with steamed bivalves the size of her palm still in their dark blue shells, soaking in pale-yellow gobhar butter. "That is your reward for a job well done, Padawan."

"Thank you," she sang, happily tucking into her clams with gusto. They tasted like sunshine and cold ocean brine and soft, sweet muscle. A bit rubbery but fun to chew, and they felt good on her molars. She hummed and kicked her feet a little, happy as a—well, a clam.

Obi-Wan took the tops off the other containers, fragrant steam pouring out of each. Mashed buntáta with an oil slick of butter and blue salt on top, ground gobhar in some sort of savory brown sauce, more of those sea-duck eggs covered in sausage that were at the feast, cooked hairgrains with a black sauce that smelled like vinegar drizzled on top, and—of course, Obi-Wan and his salads—chopped, raw vegetables mixed into a bed of leafy greens, covered with more of the black vinegar sauce.

"I'm very pleased with your performance," Obi-Wan said. "You kept your calm while I was incapacitated, you thought quickly and worked in tandem with Cody and Fal-Vee to save Amber—oh, hello Cody."

Cody was dressed in halvsies and looked more relaxed than Ahsoka could remember ever seeing, both in his aura and his countenance. His shoulders were loose instead looking like he was holding the entire GAR on them. A vacation was good for him, even if it was only for a few days, and interrupted by a murder conspiracy. "Sir," he nodded, taking his seat.

Obi-Wan pushed an empty cast-plast plate towards Cody. "You took Flint into custody without taking his life in the process. You trusted your instincts during the investigation and listened to the Force. I'll be sure to tell your Master just how impressed I am with you when we see him upon our return."

Ahsoka blinked rapidly, touched to the point of tears. "Ank-oo," she whimpered around a mouthful of steaming, buttery bivalve.

"But" —his eyes narrowed— "you talk with your mouth full, you eat dangerously fast, and I haven't seen you meditate once this weekend, so there is still room for improvement." She saw his dimples deepen under his beard. The accusing eyes were a joke, she knew from his golden-bronze aura that he was only teasing her, and he was doing so out of love. He teased Anakin in the same way, though his joking criticism left a frown behind more often than a smile.

Cody spooned a bit of everything up for himself at Obi-Wan's encouragement. He waited for the Master to tuck into his greens before taking a bite. "You can't overdose on oysters, can you?"

Ahsoka clacked an empty shell at him in response. "They're. Clams."

Obi-Wan suddenly hunched over on himself, his aura flaring bright gold, shaking with silent laughter.

Ahsoka eyed her clam shell. She didn't think she was that funny. "Master?"

"I did a bit of reading up on L-Noryptadone, trying to find the reason behind your convenient immunity to it last night." Obi-Wan sat up and wiped his eyes. "It turns out that L-Noryptadone is the synthetic version of a venom made by a family of sea anemones native to Mon Cala. A venom which mon cala polar oysters coincidentally make their own antidote to. Of course, one would have to eat an obscene amount of them to benefit from the effects."

"You're kidding." Now Cody's aura was as bright gold as Obi-Wan's. "She ate enough oysters to negate the sleeping gas? And a dose high enough to knock out adult men twice her size?"

"Apparently it takes at least one oyster per kilogram."

Ahsoka kept chewing her clams, pretending like she wasn't inwardly cringing in embarrassment, her mind screaming her weight of FORTY-EIGHT KILOGRAMS like a klaxon of shame. She didn't remember how many she'd eaten, just that their Rodian steward had kept bringing them and no one else wanted them, and it wasn't right to let them go to waste—

Obi-Wan patted her back, barely holding back his laughter. "There, there. Clearly it was the will of the Force driving you to gorge yourself, not gluttony."

"It's poetic, you have to admit," Cody added. "Baron Stargrain's the one who paid for the bottomless oysters."

It occurred to Ahsoka that while the oysters had saved her from the nexu's share of the effects, everyone's fuzzy auras meant that maybe she hadn't been that much of a pig—

"She was awake in my dream too."

Maybe it didn't actually matter if it was the will of the Force or the will of Ahsoka's two stomachs. Whether she meant to do it or not, it was the will of Amber that had really saved them.

Or her Grace, to be precise.

◿♢◺

The negotiations started early the next morning. Instead of Stargrain Manor they took place in the Unicamera building on the highest floor. The loch lay to the east, sparkling and dark with unnervingly large chunks of glassine ice. Obi-Wan caught Ahsoka peeking at the loch through her macrobinoculars every so often, trying to spot the bubbles of a cailpeach.

The six delegates had created somewhat of a trauma bond from the previous night's events, which granted them a brief reprieve from arguing, but it didn't prevent them from devolving to screams twenty minutes in. Pearl had no leverage, but she had tenacity, and she dug her heels into the Máor-Grasta dirt like a stubborn steelee over ending the occupation. Even with Ahsoka standing meekly in the corner, projecting serenity through the room like an incense burner, Do-Nal and Mica nearly came to blows twice in defense of the ones they served.

"Is it always like this?" Ahsoka asked glumly once they'd taken a break for lunch.

"Worse, usually." Obi-Wan patted her back sympathetically. "Be glad they're speaking Basic. I can't tell you how many of these arguments I've had to experience secondhand through a protocol droid."

The sun was going down by the time the leaders were ready to sign. In order for the Stewjoni to keep control of the planet, they had no choice but to give the Máor-Grasta their home back. Pearl tried to slide out of her obligations, refusing to commit to a coherent timeline on when the Stewjoni would depart the island nation; first promises of ten years, then twenty, then fifty were offered. Obi-Wan informed them that he would put Mica Ashfrost in contact with the engineers of the Sundari dome on Mandalore, thus ending the hemming and hawing over habitability of the mainland, then Laird Moridak—the last and final Laird of the Máor-Grasta people—finally received a promise in writing that the Stewjonis were committed to leaving. The plan was to repopulate the main continents over the next twenty years, and if they failed to do so, they would be held accountable in the Senate, and in the meantime the Máor-Grasta regained their sovereignty.

While they technically had enough time to stay and still make their flight, the three decided to skip the press conference that followed and head for the spaceport. The sun was just below the horizon as they left, and Obi-Wan was ducking his head down to enter into the waiting repulsorlimo when he felt a frantic energy in the Force approaching him.

"Master Kenobi!" It was Amber. She wore a heavy gray cloak and a black dress, which she nearly stumbled over on the snowy stairs, her bright red hair spilling out from under her silver hood like a river of tanta blossoms. Her cloak was lined with the Kamobel tartan. Would she change it, now that she knew she was also a Moridak? "Master Kenobi, wait, please!"

Obi-Wan obliged, dread pooling like lead in his stomach. He could sense what she was about to ask, and as much as it pained him, the answer would have to be no. "Lady Stargrain." Obi-Wan bowed his head politely.

"I brought this for your apprentice." Amber shoved a brown paper bag into his hands. "It's the last taigeis. She seemed to like it, and she never got to try the custard…"

"Thank you, my Lady." Obi-Wan tossed the package gently into the limo and braced himself; the polyphonic, ear-splitting squeal of delight came a second later. "I wish you the best. We must depart."

"Wait!" Amber grabbed his sleeve. "I can't be a druid anymore. I took my father's life. I'm not going to jail, the Chairwoman decided I won't be charged, but… but the path is closed to me now. Fal-Vee can't teach me anymore."

"I suspected as much." Obi-Wan took her hands, sympathetic. "Lady Stargrain—"

"Maybe… Could I learn to be a Jedi?" Amber whispered, her tears shining in her pale blue eyes. "I-I know that you normally start as bairns, but my Grace is bright and I already know how to heal, how-how to bring things to my hand, to see into the future and talk to the stars—"

"I'm sorry, my Lady," Obi-Wan interrupted softly. "but no. You're right, we do start young. Five is the very latest we accept Humans. Twelve is unfortunately far too old."

"But I have the F-Force! I know it's just another word for Grace, I can use it, I can do it!" Amber clutched at him desperately. "I'll be a good Jedi! Please don't leave me here alone!"

"The path of a Jedi is also closed to you." His tone was gentle, firm, final. He sympathized with her. In the past, he may have even invited her to the Temple as a Disciple; such things had been done in the past with children who were too old to join the order but needed to learn to control their connection to the Force without harming anyone. Unfortunately, now was a time of war, and they had already lost hundreds of Jedi in battle. There were none to spare even to teach the Initiates, let alone a Disciple. "But that does not mean you are alone. You have your sisters, and a brother and father to get to know in a new light." He placed her limp hand over her heart. "And you will always have your Grace. Believe in it. Put your trust in it. Calm the storm within yourself and listen for its guidance. You are never alone, my Lady. You cannot be as long as you trust your Grace."

"Alright," Amber whispered, utterly bereft.

Obi-Wan wiped her tears away with his sleeve before they froze on her cheeks. "May the Force be with you, Amber. And may your Grace forever guide you."

"M-May the Force be with you, Master Kenobi." Amber stepped back, resigned, her posture slumped and grieving.

"Poor kid," Ahsoka said sadly, watching her through the rear window. She held her taigeis in her lap protectively, stroking the package like it was an aktapan.

"Agreed," Cody said. "At least they're not putting her away for saving our skins."

"Even Stewjonis wouldn't put a twelve year old child in prison, Cody," Obi-Wan said.

Ahsoka looked briefly troubled for a moment; she shook away whatever thought had soured her face. "I wonder if that press conference is on the holoradio."

"Only one way to find out." Cody tuned the console to a local news frequency.

" … the island of Máor-Grasta has been a bastion of resilience and strength." Executive Chairwoman Pearl Galethorn's public speaking voice was strong and solemn. "A testament to the courage of its people, Stewjoni and Máor-Grasta alike. As your Executive Chairwoman, entrusted with the well-being and prosperity of our community, I have deliberated deeply on the path forward. Our journey has not been without its challenges, yet through every trial we have stood united, firm in our commitment to our home. But what is clear to me is that we cannot continue forward as we are. After careful consideration and consultation with our community leaders, I stand before you today to announce a decision that may surprise many, but is rooted in our long-term interests. The Stewjoni government will embark on a long-overdue journey of transition. We have chosen to return the sovereignty of the island to the Máor-Grasta. This decision is not made lightly. It is a decision borne out of a desire for lasting peace and stability for generations to come. Over the next twenty years, we will implement a resettlement plan. Our residents will relocate back to the main continents of Stewjon. Construction utilizing the same dome technology used in the wastes of Mandalore will begin as soon as possible, and we will do everything in our power to ensure a smooth and seamless transition. This is a profound step towards self-determination, an acknowledgment of the rich cultural heritage and identity of the Máor-Grasta people who so graciously opened their home to us when we faced annihilation. I understand that this announcement may evoke a… range of emotions within our community, understandably so. Most of us have never known any other home but this island. Change is never easy, but I firmly believe that this decision paves the way for a brighter future. It is a testament to our resilience and our commitment to peace that we make this vow. Let us remember that our bonds as a community transcend origin. The island of Máor-Grasta will always hold a special place in our hearts, no matter where our paths may lead us. Together, we will embrace this new chapter with courage and unity. Thank you for your trust and support. May the stars guide us on this journey of transition and transformation."

Obi-Wan glanced in the direction of their Stewjoni driver; the Force practically throbbed with his outrage. He exchanged a look with Ahsoka, her grimace confirming it. Peal was not getting reelected, not if his reaction reflected that of the general populace.

Ah, well. That was a problem for her to figure out. His job was complete, and they had a war to return to.

"For centuries, Máor-Grasta has endured countless hardships and struggles." It was Laird Moridak's voice. "The scars of oppression run deep within our collective memory. Today, however, we receive a significant gesture from our Stewjoni neighbors—a gesture of apology, and a recognition of past wrongs. To Executive Chairwoman Galethorn, Vice Chairman Ashfrost, and the other leaders of the Party: I extend my heartfelt gratitude for acknowledging the pain and suffering inflicted upon our people. Your apology is not just a symbolic act, but a crucial step towards reconciliation and healing. We accept this apology with sincerity. We understand that it comes from a place of reflection, a desire to right ancient injustices. It signifies a turning point in our relationship—a relationship that we hope will be defined by equality and mutual cooperation above all else. As we move forward, let us embrace this opportunity to build a future based on solidarity and brotherhood. Let us foster understanding and friendship, rather than separation and enmity. Let us ensure that the mistakes of the past serve as lessons for future generations. To the people of Máor-Grasta, my people—I say let us cherish this moment as a testament to our resilience and determination. Let us look ahead with optimism, knowing that together, we will always survive."

It was a good speech, one that inspired hope. Cautious hope, but hope nonetheless.

Ahsoka snuggled under his arm with a contented purr. "Thanks for bringing me on this mission, Master."

"It was my pleasure, mo nighean." He pretended not to see Cody's hand dart up and tap his temple, surreptitiously taking a holopic with his HUD. He'd ask him for a copy later.

"I can't believe you overthrew the Stewjoni government without me," she grumbled, her eyes closed.

Obi-Wan laughed. "Not in the limo," he murmured against her montral, eyeing the driver's silhouette warily. The last thing he wanted to deal with was a vengeful driver during rush hour.

A flash of color on the walkways caught his eye. To Obi-Wan's surprise, he recognized her as the woman who had captivated Ahsoka on their journey into town; this time she was walking quickly to meet someone. She pulled her hood down to reveal a torrent of thick, auburn hair, and kissed the cheek of a man holding a baby. She took the little one with a wide grin, her face oddly familiar.

With a jolt, he realized why; if not for the darkened glass suspending his reflection for comparison, he might never have realized that the woman's features were a near mirror of his own.

◿♢◺