"Thanks for the information," Nield said sarcastically. Then he sighed.

"Look, I know it's bad. Why do you think I'm standing here, not doing anything? If we use force to break through them, it can backfire. But we can't let them win. We have to destroy the Hall."

"Why?" Cerasi asked.

Nield whipped his head around. "What do you mean? You know why."

"I thought I did," Cerasi said. "I've been having second thoughts, Nield. Is it wise to destroy the only place we have collected our history?"

"A history of death and destruction!"

"Yes," Cerasi admitted. "But it is our history."

Nield just stared at Cerasi. "I can't believe this," he muttered.

"Nield, we have to consider Zehava, too," Obi-Wan put in. "When I said this was a bad situation, I meant more than just the destruction of this Hall. If you insist on using force, the news will travel all over the city.

The people are already unhappy with us. They're cold, and winter is coming.

They need to see signs of rebuilding, not more destruction."

Nield looked from Cerasi to Obi-Wan in disbelief. "What happened to our ideals? Are we going to compromise so soon?"

"Is compromise so bad?" Cerasi asked. "Whole civilizations are built on it." She put her hand on Nield's arm. "Let Wehutti win this one, Nield."

He shook his head violently. "No. And since when do you care if your father is defeated? You didn't care during the war! You shot at enough Elders. You would have killed him if you could!"

Nield's words seemed to hit Cerasi in the face. She turned away.

"Nield, listen," Obi-Wan pleaded. "This isn't about Wehutti. We all want what's best for Zehava. These are matters we all need to discuss. We should put it to a vote. Isn't that why we set up the system of government?

You yourself wanted the council. You didn't want complete authority, remember?"

Nield's dark eyes were stormy. "All right. I can't oppose both of you."

Cerasi looked at him pleadingly. "We aren't opposing you, Nield. We're still together." She held up her palm.

Nield ignored it. He turned away and stalked off. He signaled to his squad, and after a moment, they followed, with baffled expressions on their faces. They had never seen Nield give up before.

The Elders let out a great cheer. Wehutti's strong voice boomed out.

"We have our victory!"

Cerasi's face was troubled as she watched her father. "I think I just made a mistake. I shouldn't have argued with Nield in front of them."

"I don't think we had a choice," Obi-Wan said, though he, too, was worried by the Elders' reaction. Knowing Wehutti, he would turn this into a great victory and use it to his advantage.

Wehutti suddenly turned and looked over the heads of the crowd, straight at Cerasi. Their gazes locked. Obi-Wan saw the bravado slip from Wehutti's gaze as he looked at his daughter. A softness took its place.

So he is a man, after all, Obi-Wan thought. For the first time, he thought there might be hope for Cerasi to reconnect to the father she longed for.

An Elder tugged at Wehutti's arm, and he brusquely turned away. Cerasi let out a small sigh.

"Nield said his parents were more than warriors to him," she said. "I feel that way, too. I know my father is filled with hate. But if I want to remember, I can recall love, too."

"I think love is there," Obi-Wan said.

"That is sacred to me," she said. "And that means that the memories in the Halls might be sacred, too." She turned to Obi-Wan. "Do you know what I mean? Is anything sacred to you?"

Unbidden, an image flashed in Obi-Wan's mind. He saw the Temple, rising through the blue skies and white buildings of Coruscant, impossibly high, flashing golden in the light. He saw long, cool halls, quiet rooms, rushing fountains, a lake greener than Cerasi's eyes. He felt the hush inside himself as he sat in front of the healing crystals of fire and gazed into their flickering depths.

The emotion swamped him. He missed being a Jedi.

He missed his sure, strong connection to the Force. He had lost that.

It was almost as though he were a first-year student again, aware of something he could feel, but unable to control it. He missed the sense of purpose he felt at the Temple, the sense that he knew exactly where he was going and was content to follow his path.

And he missed Qui-Gon most of all.

That connection was over. Obi-Wan could return to the Temple. Yoda would welcome him, he knew. Whether he could be a Jedi again was up to the Council to decide. Others had left and come back.

But Qui-Gon would not take him back, nor would he welcome him. The Jedi Master was through with him. And, Obi-Wan knew, he had every right to be.

Once broken, such profound trust cannot be regained.

Cerasi read the truth in his eyes. "You miss it."

"Yes."

She nodded, as though this confirmed something she'd been thinking about. "It's not a shameful thing, Obi-Wan. Maybe you were meant for a wider world than we can offer you here. Your destiny might be for a different life."

"But I love Melida/Daan," Obi-Wan said.

"That doesn't have to change. You could contact him, you know."

Obi-Wan did not have to ask who she meant.

"You chose as you had to at that moment," Cerasi continued. "From what you've told me of the Jedi, no one will blame you."

Obi-Wan looked over the plaza toward the gray sky, up into the atmosphere where a few stars were beginning to twinkle. Beyond them lay the other worlds of the galaxy, Coruscant among them. A distance of three days with a fast ship. Yet for Obi-Wan, unreachable.

"One will blame me," he replied. "Always."

Tahl and Qui-Gon went through their lists. Every student, teacher, and Temple worker who had access to the various stolen items and could not account for their time during that period was cross-checked against the central list. They hoped to narrow down who they needed to interview.

The computer tallied the names. The list was narrowed to two hundred and sixty-seven.

Tahl groaned aloud when the computer read the number. "It will take days to interview so many."

"Then we'd better get started," Qui-Gon said.