Qui-Gon shifted on the bench. These conversations with Yoda could be painful. The Jedi Master had a way of poking the deepest wound.

"So I should let him make his foolish decision," Qui-Gon said with a shrug. "Let him fight a war he can't win. Let him stand and watch the massacre that will result. He'll be lucky if he escapes with his life."

"Ah, see I do." Yoda's yellow eyes gleamed. "Unbiased by your feeling, your prediction is?"

Qui-Gon nodded shortly. "I see disaster there. The Young cannot win."

"Interesting," Yoda murmured. "For win they did, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon turned to him, startled.

"Word we have received," Yoda said calmly. "Won the war, the Young have. Forming a government, they are. Understand now do you, Obi-Wan's decision? Fighting for a lost cause, he was not. A planet ruler, he has become."

Hiding his surprise, Qui-Gon turned away. "Then he is more foolish than I thought," he coolly replied.

Obi-Wan sat between Nield and Cerasi at a huge round conference table.

The Young had taken over the bombed-out Melida/Daan Unified Congress Building. It had stood intact for only three years, during a period where the Melida and Daan had tried to rule together before war had broken out again.

The Young had taken it over as a symbolic gesture of unity. There were certainly more welcoming places they could have chosen. They had tried to clear most of the rubble, but they were forced to leave the heavier fallen beams and columns. The windows had been blown out, and more than half the roof was gone.

Obi-Wan was damp and cold and uncomfortable, but he was thrilled to be here, forming a new government. The days were long and difficult, but he never felt tired. There was so much to think about and so much to do.