When she realized who'd called her name, Siri's friendly expression cooled. Obi-Wan wondered why. They had never been friends, but they'd been friendly. Siri was two years younger than Obi-Wan, but her abilities had landed her in Obi-Wan and Bruck's lightsaber class. She had been a worthy opponent. Obi-Wan considered her style athletic and highly focused. Unlike other students, she never got distracted during a duel by emotions such as anger or fear, and she never involved herself in petty rivalries. Privately, Obi-Wan had always thought of her as a little too focused. She never seemed to relax or join in the jokes and fun that students enjoyed in their downtime.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," Siri said flatly. "I heard you were back." She took a bite of fruit.
"Siri, you were a friend of Bruck's," Obi-Wan said urgently. "Did you notice any signs of anger or rebellion in the past few months? Or anything out of the ordinary?"
Siri chewed, staring at him, not answering.
Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably. He realized too late that these days, being Bruck's friend was not exactly a benefit around the Temple. He had blurted out the question without thinking, eager for answers and mindful of the time pressure. He supposed he should have phrased the question more diplomatically.
While he was trying to think of a better opening, Siri swallowed. She spun the muja fruit in her hand, searching for the next place to bite.
"What's it to you?" she asked.
Her rudeness surprised him, and Obi-Wan struggled not to snap back. "I want to help Qui-Gon find Bruck and the intruder — " he began patiently.
"Wait a second," Siri interrupted. "I thought Qui-Gon Jinn dumped you.
And you dumped the Jedi."
Annoyance filled Obi-Wan. "I didn't 'dump' the Jedi," he said irritably. "And as for Qui-Gon, we…" Obi-Wan stopped. He didn't owe Siri an explanation! She stood there, chewing on her fruit and staring at him as though he were a lab experiment. "You shouldn't listen to gossip," he told her.
"So why do you want me to gossip about Bruck?" Siri shot back coolly.
She took another bite of the muja.
Fuming, Obi-Wan took a breath. The interview wasn't going well, that was for sure. "The Temple is under siege," he said, struggling to keep his voice even. "I'd think you'd want to help."
Siri's cheeks flushed. "I don't have to help you, Obi-Wan. You're not even a Jedi. But for your information, I wasn't a friend of Bruck's. He just used to hang around, trying to copy my lightsaber moves. He knew I was a better fighter than he was. So does the rest of the class. I thought he was a bore. He was always trying to impress me. That about sums up our supposed 'friendship,' all right?"
"All right," Obi-Wan said. "But if you think of anything — "
"And another thing," Siri interrupted, her eyes shooting sparks at him.
"I do care about the Temple. You're the one who left the Jedi. When you did that, you cast doubt on the commitment of all Padawans, present and future.
You made all Jedi Knights question whether we're as committed as we should be. You're almost as bad as Bruck!"
Siri's words hit his cheeks like slaps from an open hand. Color rushed to Obi-Wan's face. Was this what the other students felt? That he had betrayed them?
Obi-Wan hadn't considered before that his action could cast doubt on the commitment of all Padawans. Faced with a similar situation, would he offer to help someone who had done what he had done?
With every encounter at the Temple, Obi-Wan received a wider picture of the consequences of his decision to stay on Melida/Daan. Now he realized that his action had left a wider pool of ripples than he'd thought.
A decision is yours alone to make. Yet remember you should that you make it also for the silent ones who stand at your shoulder.
How many times had he heard Yoda say that? Now the meaning was so clear that it mocked him with its simplicity. He understood completely what Yoda had meant. He should have understood it before.
Siri seemed to regret her words. Her cheeks flushed almost as deeply as Obi-Wan's.
"If you can think of anything that might help, please see Qui-Gon,"
Obi-Wan said stiffly.
"I will," Siri murmured. "Obi-Wan — "
But he couldn't bear to hear an apology or an excuse. Siri, he knew, had blurted out exactly what was in her heart.
"I have to go," Obi-Wan interrupted, and hurried away.
Qui-Gon stood in the tech center next to Miro Daroon. Around them curved a blue screen that ran along the wall in the circular room. The screen flashed diagrams of every tunnel, service hallway, catwalk, and duct in the Temple.
At first, the schematic drawings had seemed like a maze to Qui-Gon. But with Miro's help he had soon understood the logic of the diagrams.
But logic hadn't helped to find the intruder. There were dozens of tunnels tall enough for someone Bruck's height to walk upright inside. Ducts were placed conveniently on every floor, giving outlets to every area of the Temple except those under the most severe security restrictions, such as the treasury room.
The problem wasn't discovering a way for the intruder to navigate. The problem was narrowing it down. Qui-Gon had already called the Jedi Knight Tahl, his partner in the investiga- tion, to send out search teams to comb the infrastructure. But that would take time — time they didn't have. He was still hoping for a clue.
Behind them, the door hissed open. Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan in the reflection on the screen. He saw the boy catch sight of him and pause.
"Have any additional problems cropped up?" Qui-Gon quickly asked Miro.
He wanted Obi-Wan to remain, but couldn't ask him. That would violate the wishes of the Council. But he felt that if he and Miro discussed Temple problems and Qui-Gon didn't ask him to leave, Obi-Wan would stay.
So this is what Yoda meant, Qui-Gon thought.
Miro sighed. He was a tall alien from the planet Piton, thin as a reed, with a high forehead and pale, almost white eyes. Pitons lived underground on their own planet. They had little pigment in their skin that was almost translucent. They were hairless, and Miro wore a cap and tinted eye shields to protect his eyes from glare.