“This planet,” Mace says quietly, “is not a place that was meant for you.” Kix doesn’t move from where he’s sitting, just watches the shadows shift and shiver as the trees stir around them. There's no wind, just the steady rumble of thunder above them, the flickers of the lightning, and hiss of leaves and stems and branches moving on their own, bending away from the violet glow of Mace's lightsaber, the muddy hem of his robes. “I think it suits me just fine,” Kix says, and it’s soft because he doesn’t need to shout. There are better ways of being angry right now.

The Jedi were never meant to fight in war. They still aren’t meant to. But that’s what they’re doing, and that results in almost every single Jedi reaching for the Dark Side unintentionally at one point or another, results in every Jedi Falling, losing the parts of themselves that are kind and good. Except for the vod’e noticed when they started to Fall, and decided that they weren’t going to let it happen—and it turns out, you can’t really Fall if you have people to Catch you. Force-null or not, the vod’e figure out how to pull their Jetiise back into the Light, and do so as many times as is needed. General Kenobi is one of the last to start Falling for their first time.