Qui-Gon cut the transmission to Tatooine. Obi-Wan's parents had been sad. His mother had even begun to cry, but the Jedi Master knew as well as they that they did not know their son. They saw him for a week every few years if Obi-Wan's schedule allowed. They were sad to hear that their son had died, but they would be unable to morn for the child they did not know. If anyone, Owen, Obi-Wan's younger brother had been the most upset that his idolized Jedi brother was dead.
Sighing, Qui-Gon got up from the terminal and moved into the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets, half-heartedly searching for something to eat. Blindly, he removed a few items and began to heat something up. A skittering sound dragged his attention away from the stove. Obi-Wan's Kriskin ferret Star, so named for the star-shaped spot between her ears, had heard movement in the kitchen and came to catch crumbs. Qui-Gon had told his Padawan that he should have named her Vacuum.
While Obi-Wan had never shown much connection to the Living Force, Star was one creature that the boy had felt drawn to. A vendor at a market on Maltom Major had been selling them. Star had crawled out of the basket and into Obi-Wan's lap. At the time, Qui-Gon had told himself that he had bought her for him to help Obi-Wan develop his sense of the Living Force. In truth, the smile on the boy's face and joy that he felt from him had made it impossible to walk away without the animal.
Shaking himself awake, he turned back to dinner and stopped. He was making wurthian noodles, Obi-Wan's favorite. Qui-Gon's stomach rolled and he threw the food in the recycler. He picked up Star and held her as he walked away from the kitchen. Obi-Wan's door stood open, the darkness inside ominous. He walked towards the room and flipped the lights on. The room was as it always had been. Qui-Gon sat down on the edge of the bed. He had sent the clothes to the boy's family. Bant, Garen, and Reeft had each politely asked for one small thing to remember their friend by, and he had given Arica the holo he had found. Other than that, the room was untouched. Obi-Wan's model ships hung from hooks in the ceiling. Qui-Gon grinned. The models had been standard toys, but Obi-Wan had rigged each one with spare parts. Each one of them flew under their own power. He remembered the care his Padawan had taken, making sure each was just right. At the front hung a 347 Raider, the pride of his collection.
Obi-Wan was all around him. His laughter was in the walls, ringing when his latest practical joke on his Master succeeded. His tears were in his pillow, falling from nightmares. His dreams were in the air of the day when he would become a Knight himself and none of it mattered any more. He was startled to find his face wet, as tears he didn't realize he had left made their way down his face. Star had fallen asleep in his arms. Carefully, he laid her down in her pen beside the bed, then laid down himself on his Padawan's bed, held the boy's pillow close to his chest, and fell into a troubled sleep.
*****
Slowly, Obi-Wan Kenobi could feel consciousness returning to him. The
first thing he was aware of was pain. Everything seemed to hurt, from his
toenails to his eyelashes. Even his mind ached.
//Master?// he reached for that place in his mind that always brought him comfort, the strong, bright presence of his Master and in that spot, he found only Darkness. Shock yanked him painfully into full consciousness. His arms were lashed behind his back and his feet were tied together. Tape covered his eyes and his mouth. Obi-Wan reached out with his mind. The Force was still with him but his Master was not. What had happened? He remembered.
"Master says to get to the emergency hatch!" he yelled to the nearest crewman.
"This way!" the man grabbed his arm and pulled him along a corridor, the rest of Palpatine's men behind them. Obi-Wan's internal direction told him this wasn't the way.
"Where are we going?"
"This way's quicker! Trust me!" There was no time to argue, so the Padawan followed. They twisted left and turned right right into a dead end.
"What's this?" his voice was commanding.
"Trust me, we're almost there!"
He felt his Master's touch, //Yes Master, we're waiting right// A bright hot flashed seared across his vision. Pain filled his consciousness and then all was dark.
So where was he now, and where was Qui-Gon? Force don't let him be dead. Even thinking of it brought tears to his eyes that could not fall for the tape that held them shut. He heard a door in front of him open and felt light on his face.
"Finally awake, are we?" The hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the hissing voice and involuntary shivers traversed his spine. He could feel the Darkness in the person before him. It sucked all the warmth from the room and shadowed even the brightest light. Footsteps echoed, coming closer to him. Someone was kneeling right in front of him. His breath quickened. Ice cold fingertips stroked his cheek.
"Welcome to your new life my young apprentice."
Obi-Wan jerked away from the hand and tried to speak, "Mmph umph um." Sharply, the tape was ripped away. He had to keep himself from yelping at the pain, "I'm not your apprentice." He told the shadow in a strong, confident voice, "Where is my Master?"
"Your Master?" The tone was innocent, "My boy, your Master has left you."
"You're lying."
"Am I? Please, surely you knew it was but a matter of time before he decided you were too much of a burden to keep around. You never deserved a Master such as Qui-Gon Jinn. You honestly believe you're good enough to warrant one of the best and most revered Masters in the Order? My dear boy I fear you have an over-inflated opinion of yourself."
"Master Qui-Gon would never leave me," Obi-Wan repeated, but his voice was not so confident this time.
"He wouldn't? And why not? Because he loves you as a son? Because he needs you at his side? Because you provide invaluable insight at negotiations. Please, you delude yourself. How many times has he had to put his life at risk to save you? How many times has a mission been endangered because of your actions? I'm surprised he put up with you for this long. You've been nothing but a burden to him, even before he relented to your childish persistence for him taking you as a Padawan."
"That's not true," Obi-Wan whispered, but it was more to himself than to the person speaking.
"I think we both know it is. Why, you weren't even chosen until after your thirteenth birthday. You're a pity Padawan, nothing more, and he finally discovered a way to be rid of you. Fortunately for you, I was able to rescue you from that ship before it exploded."
"Wh..what?"
"Goodness, you are slow. The navicomputer on the ship was malfunctioning? How often does that happen and quite near to Alderaan too? How fortuitous that your Master has an old friend their with a spaceworthy ship. Then, a ship 'suddenly' comes out of hyperspace and begins firing on an unscheduled vessel with no warning or no reason? Foolish boy. No, no such string of events occurs by accident." The man paused, letting the Padawan consider his words. The only sign that the boy had heard any of it was his quickened breath, "If you will not believe me, then perhaps you will believe your Master." He produced a small recorder from his pocket. Obi-Wan heard the click of the button and Qui-Gon's recorded voice.
"Reil, old friend, is everything prepared for me?"
"All is ready. Where is he?"
"The whelp had a nightmare. He's fast asleep. He won't suspect a thing. I can't thank you enough for this."
"What have I always told you? It is I that owe you. If getting this nuisance out of your life is a favor, then it is one I gladly give you." He shut the recording off.
The boy remained silent, but he saw his jaw tensed, the muscle in his face twitching as he clenched his teeth.
"If that does not convince you, stupid boy, then consider this who is the only person that can sever a bond between Master and Padawan? If I'm not mistaken, I believe the answer is only the Master." And with that, Obi-Wan felt the man back away and heard the door close behind him.
It couldn't be true. Qui-Gon loved him. His Master cared for him, and he would never try to hurt him but wasn't it true that he had only been chosen after his birthday. He had had to beg for Qui-Gon to take him on. His Master had never fully trusted him, not even after their relationship had gotten better in the past year. He always felt in the way on missions and at Council. He was always one step behind, one thought too late. He wasn't dependable. He couldn't be counted on. He was a burden to his Master and his Master was glad to be rid of him. Despite the tape that kept his tears from falling, Obi-Wan couldn't stop the sobs that overcame him. He was alone.
************
It couldn't be true. Qui-Gon loved him. His Master cared for him, and
he would never try to hurt him, but wasn't it true that he had only been
chosen after his birthday. He had had to beg for Qui-Gon to take him on.
His Master had never fully trusted him, not even after their relationship had
gotten better in the past year. He always felt in the way on missions and at
Council. He was always one step behind, one thought too late. He wasn't
dependable. He couldn't be counted on. He was a burden to his Master. And
his Master was glad to be rid of him. Despite the tape that kept his tears
from falling, Obi-Wan couldn't stop the sobs that overcame him. He was alone.
*****
Morning came and went. Qui-Gon Jinn had never slept in a day in his life
as a Master. Until today. The early afternoon sun streaming through his
Padawan's window woke him from a restless sleep. His shoulders ached from
sleeping wrong all night. It was the first real sleep he had managed in had it been a week now? He let Obi-Wan's pillow fall from his arms. He was
doubtful it would resume it's normal shape from being crushed all night. The
Jedi Master turned to the window, squinting against the sun that reflected
silver glitter off the buildings and vehicles that bustled about the planet,
each unknowing and uncaring that it was missing a resident. The silver glow
reminded him of the way the Alderaani sun had reflected off the twisted
wreckage Qui-Gon had returned to.
"What are you doing?!" He had Damon lifted off the ground by the front of his tunic before he realized his own actions.
"Qui-Gon, they're dead. You saw what happened." The man struggled against the steel grip that would not let him go, "Qui-Gon, put me down."
"He's not dead. You don't know this boy. He's survived things most men, most Jedi, would never make it through. We have to go back!"
"Qui-Gon," his voice was fading, "I can't breathe."
The Master realized what he was doing and set his friend back on the deck, "I'm sorry."
"It's ok," Damon fingered his throat. He was sure it would be bruised in the morning, "Qui-Gon, we can't turn back until I have confirmation from Alderaan that that ship is no longer a threat. THEN," he put up a hand to stay the Master's protest, "we'll go back and see."
"There will be nothing to see. Obi-Wan will be waiting for us."
Obi-Wan had not been waiting. They had boarded the wreck and Qui-Gon had seen for himself the deck where the escape hatch used to be. Blood was smeared on the walls and floor, its metallic scent still lingering in the low atmosphere the hull had maintained. No bodies had been found. Vaporized was the explanation of the Alderaanians. Orbital security tapes had been no help. Not one of them had been focused on the ships at the time. Only flashes of light from the blaster fire could been seen on the images.
His reverie was broken by the sound of the comm. station. Sighing, he answered it abruptly, "Jinn."
"Needed you are, in the Council chambers." Yoda did not mince words. He knew it would do no good.
"Is it necessary, my Master?"
"Yes. Call you here I would not, if I believed otherwise." Qui-Gon could still see the sympathy in his old Master's eyes. Obi-Wan had been a pupil of Yoda's as well. Before he had become his Padawan, the boy had spent much time under the private tutelage of the Council head. It was a rare occurrence for Yoda to give one initiate that much attention, but initiates like Obi-Wan only came by every few generations. Had it not been the will of the Force for Qui-Gon to be Obi-Wan's Master, the tall Jedi suspected Yoda would have taken the boy on himself, something he hadn't done since Qui-Gon had become a Knight.
"Would a half hour be sufficient my Master. I fear I have just gotten out of bed and have yet to clean up."
"A half hour is sufficient little one. May the Force be with you." His Master cut the transmission, not missing the surprised look on Qui-Gon's face. Yoda hadn't called him "little one" since he was fourteen.
*****
Obi-Wan's breathing had slowed once he had cleared his mind enough to
initiate a calming meditation. His sense of time was disrupted, but it had
been some time since the dark one had left the room. The man's words rolled
over and over in his memory. He was unworthy, childish, and a burden and yet
the love and security he had always felt from his Master, even when he was
exasperated with him, kept returning to the boy's mind. Through his closed
eyes, he could see his Master's face, not quite smiling as he performed an
exercise flawlessly. It took time to learn his Master's look of approval,
but once recognized, it was a reaction that he strove endlessly for. The
other Padawan's had often asked him how he could stand training without one
word of encouragement.
They just didn't understand his Master. The encouragement was there whenever Qui-Gon turned his back to an open room, trusting Obi-Wan to watch out for him, whenever his Master handed over the controls of the ship they were flying, whenever he went to sleep in the forest at night, leaving Obi-Wan for his turn at watch. Qui-Gon's encouragement came in the ultimate form. He turned his life over to his Padawan as Obi-Wan gave his life to his Master. This was not a man who looked upon his companion as an unwanted burden. This was a man who held faith in a partner and everything the dark one had said had been a lie. His Master would never plot to get rid of him. Something was amiss here, and Obi-Wan Kenobi intended to find out what it was.
Confident now, Obi-Wan brought the Force to bear and undid the binds that held his hands. His shoulders ached from being held in such an awkward position for so long. He slowly raised his hands to his face and removed the tape from his eyes gently. The room came into focus slowly. It took several minutes for the blur to disappear from his vision, but when it did, he took in his surroundings. The room was obviously a cell of some kind, but much better than he had ever been in before. He was used to the dank kind, with moisture so think it was dripping from the stone walls and ceiling, leaving rust on metal bars. This one was nothing of the sort. The room was bare, gray walls matching gray ceiling. The door that held him in was modern pneudrolics. Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders a few times and rotated his wrists, attempting to work the kinks out as he approached the door. He jumped back, startled as the it slid open when the sensors caught his movement.
"Huh," Obi-Wan mused aloud. No sentries were posted to see that he did not escape, no cameras that he could see monitored his activity. He appeared to be completely alone, but appearances, he knew from experience, could be deceiving. Out of habit, he put his hand to his thigh, feeling for the reassuring presence of his lightsaber, and was startled to find it still hanging at his belt. Either his capture had no idea what he was or he was being severely underestimated. Either way, the Padawan knew he could use it to his advantage. He made his way through endless corridors. At first, he tried to keep track, just in case he needed to get back for some reason beyond his imagination, but before long, it became obvious that keeping the twists and turns of nondescript gray straight would be next to impossible for anyone but Qui-Gon. He made another left and stumbled into a dining room. Here, the decoration changed drastically. The long table was made of some of the best trees from Kashyyk, stained dark to match the chairs. The carpeting was plush and red. Extravagance seeped from every inch of the room. Obi-Wan could smell something delicious wafting from under silver covered dishes on the center of the table. Fine china was set at two places.
"Welcome, my young apprentice."
Obi-Wan jumped and whirled around, his hand over his lightsaber. He had sensed no one approach from behind. The figure was as murky to look at as it was to sense through the Force. He could see the black robe and tunic underneath, but the face remained shrouded in shadow.
"I'm not your apprentice," the Padawan replied confidently.
"And so you choose to be no one's apprentice?" The figure asked, passing him on his way to the head of the table. Obi-Wan shivered in the cold wake of the man that passed him by.
"I am Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice." He crossed his arms in front of him, never more sure of the fact.
"Even after your dear 'Master' tried to have you killed?" the figure asked slyly, seating himself at the head of the table and gesturing with one pale hand for Obi-Wan to sit at his right hand.
Obi-Wan ignored the invitation, keeping his arms folded across his chest, "My Master would never attempt to have my killed. Besides, if Qui-Gon wanted to do that, he would have succeeded. My Master doesn't fail." He said, his chin lifted in defiance.
"So sure of yourself, are you my boy? Surely a boy as self-confident as you can see that you are wasting your true potential among the Jedi. The have tried to destroy the spirit inside of you." The man stood again, coming closer, "The fire, the passion they so disapprove of is still inside you. Oh, you may have fooled yourself into believe you are controlling it, but really you have just pushed it aside." The seductive voice drew closer and closer even though the man didn't move any closer. The voice seemed to whisper in his ear, "Your anger is still inside you, building up, waiting for you to release it. Your temper is quick, and your rage is your greatest ally. Why do you waste your talent with those weak, pathetic fools?" Obi-Wan felt his heart racing, his blood beginning to boil and anger built within him for a reason he could not identify, "They have kept this knowledge from you because they fear the power you could wield if you ever realized your true potential," His lip quivered, his entire body nearly shook with rage, "Use your anger boy! Realize the power you could have if you would only let go and act!"
Obi-Wan was ready to unleash. He didn't know what would happen, all he knew was that he couldn't keep the anger inside him any longer. His eyes focused on the candles at the center of the table.
Anger leads to hate. Anger leads to hate anger leads to hate anger leads to hate.
His favorite meditation, the burning flame meditation sprang to mind. His eyes focused on the flame as he inhaled deeply, calming his heart, calming his mind. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. He was deeply afraid. He didn't know where he was or where his Master was. He couldn't feel his Master at all. The bond they had shared seemed to be severed. He couldn't remember ever feeling this alone. His fear made him angry, angry that he could find no way out, and angry that he did not know what to do. His anger would lead to hate, hatred of the Order, his Master, and everything he ever loved if he let this continue and that hate would lead to ultimate suffering, his own and his Master's if he turned.
"No," his voice quivered, but it was made of steel, "I am a Jedi Padawan and I will not dishonor myself or those like me by taking the easy way. I will not use my anger."
Despite all his Jedi training, he couldn't keep the spike of terror from his core at the only part of the face he could now see, two yellow, cat-like eyes that bore into his soul and skewered his heart. The voice that spoke was colder than Hoth at midnight, "So be it, Jedi."
TBC
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