Title: A Matter of Leverage
"Come on, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with his usual patience, "You can do
better than this."
"You’re so much bigger than me, Master," Obi-Wan said, his frustration apparent in his voice, "It’s not fair."
Qui-Gon had realized earlier that week that while Obi-Wan excelled at
fighting with a lightsaber, his hand-to-hand combat skills were severely
lacking (as, he thought, were his own.) So, instead of the typical
lightsaber drills, the two were working on hand-to-hand techniques.
"What is Master Yoda’s favorite lesson, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon pulled back from his apprentice, leaving a defeated Obi-Wan breathing hard.
"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate . . ." Obi-Wan started the
litany.
"No, not that one. What’s his second favorite?" Qui-Gon said.
"Try not. Do, or do not. There is no try," Obi-Wan stated. "Or, it is true, from a certain point of view."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "I was thinking of ‘size matters not," he said, "How does that relate to us right now?"
"You mean that just because you're twice my size doesn't mean you should be able to push me around as though I wasn't even resisting," Obi-Wan replied glumly. "But that doesn't apply here, Master. I mean, neither of us are using the Force."
"It’s a matter of leverage, Obi-Wan, not strength," Qui-Gon paused, trying to figure out a way to make his apprentice understand. He noticed his
friend, Mace Windu, and his padawan training across the room from them.
"Obi-Wan, do you know Mace Windu’s padawan Kai-Anna?" Qui-Gon asked,
watching Mace and his zealous fifteen-year-old padawan spar with
lightsabers.
Obi-Wan looked over at the Grovian female. Evan though Kai-Anna was tall for her species, she was still shorter than Obi-Wan, and just as slender. Her white hair was cut into the traditional padawan buzz cut, and beads of sweet ran down her translucent pale-blue skin. Other than their height and blue-tinged skin, Grovians were virtually identical traditional human life forms. "She’s a year or two older than me," Obi-Wan said. "I’ve never talked to her, though—I think she was taken early as a padawan, and I’ve only seen her in the commons or dining hall since."
"Yes, she was taken early as a Padawan. Unfortunately, her first master died a little over three years ago, and Mace Windu took over her training," Qui-Gon said. "Have you ever seen her fight?"
"I’m watching her right now."
"Before today, Padawan." Qui-Gon hid his amusement.
"No—never, that I can remember."
"Aah, yes, you were in the infirmary for last year’s Jedi-games. Kai-Anna did quite well in hand-to-hand combat, I remember. Perhaps she and Mace are up to a demonstration." Qui-Gon waited for Mace to disarm his apprentice, and while he waited he was impressed by Kai-Anna’s skills. Grovians are known for exceptional speed, and Kai-Anna knew how to use hers as an advantage. Her skills were nowhere near Mace’s, but she defended herself well, often moving in borderline-unorthodox ways Qui-Gon didn’t expect. He could tell Mace had to continually adapt to her movements, despite the fact he had been training Kai-Anna for two years.
"Master?"
"Yes, Obi-Wan?"
"How did her master die?"
"Pardon me, Obi-Wan?"
"How did Kai-Anna’s master die?" Obi-Wan asked again, and Qui-Gon could feel trepidation slipping past Obi-Wan’s shields.
Qui-Gon put one hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, his features sad. "They were on a mission to the outer rim, and her master developed Sandros, a common illness to his species. If they had been on Coruscant, he probably would have been easily healed, but the medical facilities on Belosse IV were
minimal at best. He grew weaker and weaker, and by the time they came back,
it was too late."
"That’s horrible," Obi-Wan breathed in softly, and Qui-Gon looked
affectionately down at him. He could feel Obi-Wan’s sorrow for Kai-Anna,
knowing that if the same happened to him, he would be devastated.
"Yes, and Kai-Anna grieved for a very long time. But she was able to move on, and she and Mace have formed a formidable partnership. I wouldn’t want to take on those two alone," Qui-Gon didn’t tell Obi-Wan that, while
grieving, Kai-Anna had driven off two different masters assigned to take
over her training. The council had been split on what to do; they didn’t
think it fair to send a formerly solid padawan off to the Agri-corp,
especially considering the fate of her previous master, but they couldn’t
deal with an unruly and unreasonable distraction, either. Luckily Mace Windu
had come back from a long-term mission, and the story of the twelve-year-old
Apprentice had both intrigued and saddened him. Through a number of
arguments (and a lot of water thrown in his face), contrasted with tears,
and plenty of hostility, he had finally slipped past her barriers, and they
formed a Master-Padawan bond. The year without a master had set Kai-Anna’s
training back, but with Mace’s assistance she rapidly regained ground. Two
years later she was barely behind her age-mates in written work and ahead in
physical training.
Kai-Anna flipped over Mace’s head in an acrobatic move that characterized her fighting style. Her feet had barely touched the ground when her master quickly flipped over her in a move unlike his usual style. He stopped his lightsaber less than an inch from the back of her neck. She paused, than powered down her lightsaber and looked over her shoulder with a smile. "I thought I had you!" she exclaimed. Mace powered down his lightsaber and smiled back.
"You are improving every day, Kai. I’m sure you’ll get me some day," Mace paused, "but you’ll never beat me 3 out of 5."
"You just wait, Master. You just wait," she picked up two towels lying on the sidelines, and handed one to her master, who accepted the proffered towel happily, drying off his balding head.
"I think you just lost some more hair, Master."
"It’s all because of you, Padawan. Every hair lost is your fault, I swear."
Qui-Gon approached their spirited conversation. He was happy not only to see a formerly grieved padawan radiant again but to hear echoes of the Mace he had befriended as an initiate, but had lost touch with over the past few years. The last time he had seen either had been at the Jedi-games, a yearly event in the Jedi Temple. Initiates, padawans, and masters gathered to
compete in a variety of events, from physical activities to trivia games to
art, music, and poetry contests. The games were supposed to foster a sense
of community and accomplishment throughout the Jedi order. Kai-Anna had
advanced to the finals of the Padawans Open grappling division, losing to a
much bigger padawan waiting to take his trials. She had won her weight
division in grappling and also made a strong showing in the lightsaber
division, narrowly missing the quarterfinals. Mace had stood along side,
coaching, cheering, condoling, and, most importantly, keeping her grounded.
"Mace," Qui-Gon loathed interrupting their bantering but doubted Mace would seriously mind.
"Qui-Gon! My friend," Mace smiled; Qui-Gon knew Mace had been more than aware that he was in the room—and watching him—but Mace liked to play
surprised. "This must be your apprentice, Obi-Wan."
"Yes, you have not met him, have you?" he turned to his apprentice.
"Obi-Wan, this is Master Mace Windu and his apprentice Kai-Anna."
"It’s nice to meet you, Master Windu and Padawan Kai-Anna," Obi-Wan said, prompted by the look in his master’s eyes.
"You too, Obi-Wan. I’ve known your Master for a long time," Mace looked more relaxed than he had in years, Qui-Gon noted. Mace had been getting rather stuffy. He didn’t know that Mace was thinking virtually the same thing about him.
"Hello, Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi. Please call me Kai," she said.
"Kai-Anna just is . . ."
"Too much of a name for a little one," Mace filled in smoothly. "Plus Kai! is much easier to yell."
"Mace, would you and your apprentice demonstrate a hand-to-hand combat situation for my padawan? He seems to have problems grasping the idea of leverage being more important than size."
"Of course, Qui-Gon. But why don’t you go against Kai?" Mace asked. "That might make a better demonstration."
"I’m fine with that as long as Kai is," Qui-Gon looked at Kai, who quickly nodded her approval.
Kai asked as the two walked out onto the mat, "This is just grappling, correct, Master Jinn? No striking or kicking?"
"Yes, Padawan Kai. We’re not wearing the proper safety gear for hard
contact," Qui-Gon squared off against the padawan, and the two began
circling each other like Alderanian Tigers fighting over territory.
Qui-Gon and the girl jostled against each other, each trying to take the advantage. Qui-Gon knew he had superior strength and had been training
longer, while the girl used her exceptional speed to duck around Qui-Gon’s
arms and change directions unexpectedly. Qui-Gon hadn’t grappled with anyone
who felt quite so slippery since he and Mace had gotten in a mud fight with
some other padawans years ago. Qui-Gon finally managed to slip both arms
around the girl and under her armpits, clasping both hands behind her back
in what looked like a superior hold. Obi-Wan smiled slightly, relieved that
he wouldn’t have to see his master lose to a padawan. The girl, however,
had other ideas in mind, adjusted quickly, and executed a relatively simple
wizard. In a mass of flying limbs, Qui-Gon was down on the ground with the
girl’s knee on his ribcage and her fist in position to punch him, even
though she was holding back from actually striking. Qui-Gon reacted by
rolling away from her, using his superior strength to push her off. She
moved with him and slid one arm under his arm and around the back of his
neck. In a quick move she had the Jedi Master in an arm bar, with her leg
holding his neck and head to the ground. He tapped out when he realized he
couldn’t break the lock without using the Force. She let go and hopped up,
than gave the Jedi Master a hand. He smiled at her ruefully, and she grinned
back, neither of them looking at the flabbergasted Obi-Wan and amused Mace
Windu standing off to the side.
Obi-Wan looked shocked that anyone--especially a padawan--would defeat his master. His master, however, just gave the same rueful grin. "You found my weakness, Kai."
She smiled back, suddenly looking shy, "I never expected to best a master. Want to go again?" Mace frowned slightly until he realized that his padawan felt only surprise at besting Qui-Gon; pride did not color her emotions.
"Actually, if your master allows it, I’d prefer you to work with Obi-Wan for a few minutes. My hand-to-hand skills are quite rusty, and the way you've learned to adapt your fighting style to suit your size would help
Obi-Wan. Is that fine with you, Mace?"
Mace smiled. "Sure, as long Kai doesn’t mind."
"It’s fine," Kai grinned, "As long as Obi-Wan doesn’t expect to learn all of my tricks."
"No one can do that Padawan," Mace smiled "Because I think you make them up as you go along."
Qui-Gon looked at his still stunned padawan. "Coruscant to Obi-Wan. Do you still want to train, or would you prefer to write your philosophy paper?"
"Master . . . you lost," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon ignored the chortled laugh from Mace.
"Yes, Obi-Wan, and I did not mean to. Not only have I not practiced the way I should, but I underestimated a very tough opponent."
"But you’re a master and she’s a padawan. . ."
"But nothing, Obi-Wan. I told you that size doesn’t matter. There are
padawans naturally better at something than a master might be, and I found a
padawan who was able to exploit a weakness of mine very easily. Didn’t I
tell you it was a matter of leverage, not strength?"
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan walked out on the mat towards Kai, who waited for him with the ghost of a grin lighting her features. She recognized his
uneasiness, and quickly started asking him about his knowledge of grappling
and wrestling.
"She has come quite a long way, Mace," Qui-Gon said quietly, watching Kai show Obi-Wan the wizard she used against Qui-Gon.
"Yes, she’s very dedicated. How’s your Obi-Wan doing?"
"He’s very talented. Mischievous and headstrong as well, but overall a superior apprentice."
Mace laughed. "Does he give you as much trouble as you gave Yoda?"
"As I gave Master Yoda? Don’t you mean we?"
"Same difference. You’re avoiding the question."
"Let’s just say that I have a new appreciation for Yoda’s . . . patience."
"Hearing that, my friend, would make Yoda’s day."
"It already has. ‘Deserve this you do, Qui-Gon Jinn. Give you more gray hairs than you gave me, he will! Pass the cookies!"
"Well, Qui-Gon, I’d have to say that you look more at peace—happy,
even--than I’ve seen you in a long time. Welcome back, my friend."
"I can say the same for you, Mace. You don’t seem as . . . stuffy . . . as you did a few years ago."
"Why you!" the old friends started wrestling on the spot, and their two apprentices stopped to watch them for second, and both giggled when they
heard a voice say, "So whatever happened to your hair?" "Careful, or you’re
going to be bald just like me, but it’s not going to be from a natural
process."
Kai shrugged. "Masters. Hey—want to learn a move that will really throw Qui-Gon off-balance? Literally and figuratively?"
"Sure!"
The End
You are visitor #
© 2000 heather.lively@ns.sympatico.ca
Author: Kalypso
Summary: "Size Matters Not."
Archiving: Early Years, anyone else interested just ask--chances are, I’ll
say yes.
Feedback: Always welcome, including flames. Please feed the starving artists
. . .
Category and Spoilers: Umm, none. This happens before the Phantom Menace . .
. but if you don’t know what happened in TPM, what box are you living in and
why are you reading this?
Ratings: G? I can’t see it even being PG.
Thanks: To Donna and Yvette for the betas, and Norbooboo for the
encouragement.
Necessary Disclaimer: Star Wars and its entirety belong to Lucas Films,
yadda yadda yadda (or yoda, yoda, yoda.) Kai is a character I created while
watching a small (teenage) female beat a (large) male in a wrestling match.
Oh, and the "Jedi Games" are an obvious rip-off of the Olympic games. Weesa
makin’ no monies off this, okey-day?
Notes: This is just kind of happy, easy-going, almost fluffy kind of piece
that came to help me avoid my thesis. Also, a "wizard" is a wrestling term
that basically (but not quite) means a reversal. It’s really cool to use,
‘cause it dumps the other person wrestling flat onto his or her back
(usually.)
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn was training in one of the main exercise rooms with
his fourteen-year-old apprentice, Obi-Wan. The two were grappling on thick
wrestling mats. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan’s frustration; so far, the
workout had been very one-sided, with Obi-Wan feeling like a rag doll that
Qui-Gon could toss around at will.
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