Rumour Has It - part I

Rumour has it that the distinguished Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi is seeking a new apprentice after successfully training the Chosen One into Knighthood. The whole Temple seems to be in a flutter of excitement; Anakin, less so. He sets himself the task of reviewing every single one of the hopeful Initiates. After all, it is not just anyone, who can survive being Obi-Wan's Padawan.


-o-

"Have you heard?" J´kar whispered breathlessly from behind his stack of datapads. "Master Kenobi –"

"Hush!" Uuna kicked her Bothan friend under the table, aware that the Chief Librarian, although on the other side of the Archives, heard everything.

J'kar's brown fur rippled and his eyes slanted in obvious irritation. "Master Nu is not anywhere near us, and anyway, this is important." But he glanced around furtively, keeping his voice quiet. In spite of herself, Uuna could not stop the curiosity taking hold of her; Master Kenobi was such a legendary Jedi, his feats in the ongoing war numerous. Had he landed himself again in the Halls of Healing? Had he been called away to conduct some secret mission?

"Master Kenobi is seeking a Padawan!" J'kar's excited voice rose above the approved voice-level of a careful whisper – several heads turned into their direction, making Uuna blush.

"Hush!" She admonished again automatically, but a strange feeling was growing inside of her: part agitated suspense, part desperate hope. "Where did you hear that? Has he seen any Initiates yet? What if it's just a rumour? Does he have any time for a Padawan, he is hardly here –"

"Breathe Uuna," J'kar said, grinning. "When has my sources ever been wrong? Apparently, he is already looking, very discreetly. Not wanting to cause a riot, you know."

Uuna knew. Master Kenobi was everyone's ideal for a Master. Everyone's secret dream. He was hers too, although she hardly dared to wish it. With the war continuing and more and more Jedi dying, it seemed to be a miracle to get apprenticed to a Knight or a Master at all, let alone to someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi. But maybe…

"Uuna – this is a secret. Don't tell anyone." J'kar looked slightly uncomfortable. "I was not supposed to tell even you, but you're my best friend. Besides, the less people know…we have an advantage here."

Uuna was already nodding, promising the keep her lips sealed. She would not tell a soul.

-o-

They were on a short respite in the Temple after the battle of Felucia, when Anakin first heard the gossip about Obi-Wan seeking another Padawan. He had been in the dining hall with Snips, enjoying a much earned blumfruit muffin, when his Master's name, inserted in the middle of an otherwise uniform chatter, had caught his attention. Listening at his grumbling Padawan with one ear, and with the other at the group of gossiping Initiates a couple of tables to their left, he managed to get the gist of it:

The revered Master Kenobi had decided to finally take another Padawan, after gallantly gallivanting across the galaxy with the Chosen One, winning battles single-handedly and solving conflicts with one word. Hearts, naturally, were a flutter.

All of which was complete and utter kark. Especially the taking-another-Padawan-part. Obi-Wan didn't have time to nurse some snot-nosed Initiate, not in the middle of a bloody war. Besides, they were already sort of co-parenting, or co-mastering, a Padawan. Granted, Ahsoka was officially Anakin's Padawan, but Obi-Wan was an instrumental part of raising Snips into Knighthood. Why on earth would Obi-Wan want another Padawan in the first place? He certainly didn't need one. No, the whole thing was simply ludicrous.

Luckily, Anakin didn't have to think about the false chatter for long; soon enough they were out of the Temple and in the middle of the next hair-raising mission, the three of them in perfect sync, him, Obi-Wan, Snips. And so, Anakin happily forgot the ridiculous gossip. Until they came back to the Temple that is, and it seemed that the rumour had grown into a fact. At least if one were to believe an irksome troll.

-o-

Anakin bumped into Grand Master Yoda on his way to a sparring session with Obi-Wan – or more accurately, Yoda almost ran him over with his blasted hover chair. Only Anakin's war-honed reflexes saved him from a mortifying collision.

He said his apologies, ready to dash away, but the old Master's voice arrested him. "Young Skywalker, in great haste are you – something the matter is?"

Anakin groaned silently. Already late, he didn't want to listen to Yoda's cryptic chit-chat; Obi-Wan could be a hellish fiend after he had been kept waiting.

"Just going to the training rooms, Master. Obi-Wan is waiting for me," he explained, hoping that the troll would get the hint. He didn't.

"Decided you to begin your warm-up already, I see…hmm…running around the Temple." Yoda sounded stern, but Anakin knew him well enough to detect the glimmer of amusement on his wrinkled green face.

"Apologies again, Master." Anakin played the penitent – it was always the surest tactic with Yoda.

"Still train with Obi-Wan you do, hmm…"

Anakin frowned. What the old troll was getting at? "He is a great swordsman." Not the mention my best friend.

"Great teacher he is." Yoda's discerning gaze was relentless; it seemed to catch Anakin's every expression, every thought. He always felt uncomfortably bare in the Grand Master's presence.

"I won't argue that." After all, Obi-Wan had taught him – and one of those lessons had been, never argue with Yoda.

"Teach more he will," Yoda proclaimed. "Good it is, hmm, guidance, attention the young ones need. Too few Masters there are for so many promising younglings."

Anakin was left gaping as Yoda suddenly veered away with his hover chair, abruptly ending the conversation. Not really wanting to examine why the confirmation of the rumour shocked him so much, Anakin resumed his rapid strides towards his waiting Master. Instead of the tactics and moves of the coming match, there was an entirely different thing on his mind.

Just who could be worthy enough to become Obi-Wan's next Padawan?

-o-

It turned out that he was right about Obi-Wan's mood: his former Master was absolutely impossible when Anakin finally arrived at their reserved training room. That and Anakin's own wandering thoughts meant that he trounced Anakin somewhat embarrassingly easily.

"That, my dear former Padawan, is how it is done," Obi-Wan boasted, shutting down his training saber.

Anakin grimaced and mopped the sweat from his forehead. "Enjoy it while you can old man."

"I'm in the prime of my life," Obi-Wan proclaimed, smile evident in his twinkling eyes. Seeing Anakin's pointed look towards his precious beard, he continued, "And whatever grey I have, it is entirely your doing."

"So, you're not keen to repeat the experience?"

"Repeat what? Minding you?" His Master shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. "As if that has ever stopped."

"I'm not that bad."

Obi-Wan snorted. "I have two words for you my friend: maglev train."

Anakin grinned. On their last mission, besides the unfortunate maglev train, there had also been a steep precipice, a dozen of B2's, a swarm of assassin probes and a flame-thrower. Good times.

"Pot and kettle, Master. I learned everything from you."

"Ha, I doubt that," Obi-Wan parried. "At least those colourfulexpressions you like to use most certainly did not come from me."

"E chu ta?"

"Quite," his Master said dryly.

"Dinner?"

"Not tonight. I have a meeting with Master Drallig in half an hour." With that Obi-Wan patted Anakin on the shoulder and exited the training room, leaving Anakin's thoughts once again churning around the same bothersome topic: Initiates. For Master Drallig, in addition of being the head of the Jedi Temple guard, was also a lightsaber instructor. Was Obi-Wan planning on finding out who among the little blighters was the most promising with a lightsaber?

It was high time Anakin made some inquires of his own.

-o-

"Snips!" Anakin found his wayward apprentice between a small waterfall and a mossy rock face in the Room of the Thousand Fountains. Startled, Ahsoka dropped the rock she had been levitating, and Anakin felt a small twinge of remorse for interrupting her peaceful meditation. But the matter really couldn't wait.

"Master, I thought you had other things to do?" Snips' voice held a healthy amount of suspicion. She knew Anakin liked to spend his time elsewhere – as in outside of the Temple walls.

"Yeah well, something came up."

"Another mission?" Even Ahsoka didn't seem to be excited about the prospect of another mission so soon. Not when they had just gotten back from their last one by the skin of their teeth.

"Not exactly. This is more of a…private project."

Instantly curious, Ashoka sprang gracefully to her feet. "What? Can I help?"

"That's why I'm here Snips." Anakin smiled at her eagerness to please. Had he ever been like that as a Padawan? He doubted it. Although he had ached for Obi-Wan's approval, he had been too prideful to ever show it. "I need some intel."

"From me?"

"Yes. There is a rumour that Obi-Wan is going to take a Padawan." Anakin watched as Ahsoka's eyes shifted briefly to the side. So, his Padawan had heard the gossip and had not thought to inform him. Interesting. "I need to know what the scuttlebutt among the Initiates and Padawans is."

"Master…it's just a rumour," Ahsoka said tentatively, no doubt hesitant to rat on her friends. Which in any other situation would have been commendable, but in this, there was too much at stake – Anakin's sanity, Obi-Wan's very life – to feel such scruples.

"Just another rumour?" Anakin pressed, letting his displeasure show on his face.

"Well…everyone is quite excited about it. Wanting to be Master Kenobi's Padawan and all."

Anakin pursed his lips. It was nothing he didn't already know. He needed details, names. "Any frontrunners?"

"Ah, I'm not…sure?" Ahsoka was still a terrible liar. They would have to work on that – later. "Master, have you asked Obi-Wan?"

Hah, asked Obi-Wan! The man would clam up like a…clam.

"Names, Snips. I want names."

"There's a few," Ahsoka sighed, wisely giving up and listing a dozen names, some that Anakin vaguely recognized. The whole Initiate pool above a certain age would have to be taken into consideration – Obi-Wan loved to be unpredictable – but at least Anakin now had a place to start to make some discreet inquiries.

"Thanks Snips." He gave Ahsoka a smile and turned to go.

"Skyguy, you didn't hear this from me!"

"Of course not." Anakin smirked.

-o-

"Initiate Yorin," Anakin greeted as he plopped down on a chair opposite the lanky girl. Startled, the Onderonian half-rose from her seat, splashing some of her muja juice on the table in the process.

"Master Skywalker!" Sierra Yorin exclaimed, turning pink. Yorin had been at the top of Ahsoka's list. A perusal of the twelve-year-old's Temple records had revealed she was at the top of her classes – including lightsaber training – and hadn't been on the receiving end of disciplinary action even once. A high achiever and probably a stickler for rules. Anakin could already tell she was totally unsuitable for Obi-Wan.

"Master Skywalker…oh, can I…can I help you with something?" The Initiate asked anxiously after several moments of silence.

"A fellow Jedi refuses the attention of a medic, although clearly wounded. What do you do?"

"Oh, I don't…" Yorin swallowed, obviously trying to feverishly determine if the random query was some kind of trick question and what the right answer was. "I…I would advise them to seek sufficient treatment, but I would trust that my fellow Jedi knows their own situation better than I."

"Hmm, interesting." Anakin rose as swiftly as he had come, leaving the confused Initiate staring bemusedly at her spilled muja juice, certain that she had somehow, for the first time, flunked a test.

-o-

Numbers 2 and 3 on the list were equally disappointing. The 2 – a Twi'lek boy – was no doubt accomplished and Anakin appreciated his interest in mechanics, but he was also arrogant and nonchalant, giving flippant answers to Anakin's very serious questions. A jokester, who would not understand Obi-Wan's subtle wry humour. The boy would surely drive Anakin's former Master insane within weeks.

Number 3 – a-fourteen-year-old human boy – on the other hand was the Twi'lek's complete opposite: so sombre and humourless he made Anakin's skin itch. Of course, the reason for the seriousness might have been that the boy had experienced the front lines already, had in fact lost his first Master in the ongoing war. All of which was lamentable to be sure, but something that automatically put him dead last on Anakin's list. Getting your Master killed wasn't really a glowing recommendation of one's skills.

He tried very patiently to explain that to Padmé, but gave up when his wife's warning gaze promised a lonely night on the very couch they were currently sitting on.

"Don't you think Obi-Wan can make his own decision as to who he is going to take as his Padawan – if he actually is taking anyone?" Padmé asked, curling her slender feet more securely under her thighs. As usual, she looked heavenly, all soft curls and enticing curves.

"What Obi-Wan thinks he needs to do, is rarely what is best for him," Anakin snorted. "A wet behind the ears Padawan is the last thing he needs, it'll only distract him from the war effort. But if it has been decided – and I bet Master Yoda is behind it – then I'm going to make sure he gets the best one."

"Rigorous vetting – that's one way of looking things. But what about you and Ahsoka? You didn't even know her beforehand, and that turned out well."

"That's different," Anakin muttered.

"How so?" Padmé asked with that irritating sneakiness of a politician. She drained her wineglass, leaving a hint of the moistness of her lips to the rim of the glass. As usual, Anakin wanted badly to kiss her. But at the moment he wanted more badly to tell her she was wrong.

"Snips' one in a million. There's no one like her."

"That's true," Padmé conceded with a smile, but stubbornly continued, "However, I'm sure there are many talented and likeable younglings, who would make a great Padawan for Obi-Wan."

"But that's not the point!" Anakin huffed, frustrated. "We already have Snips, we don't need anyone else!"

For a moment, Padmé looked at him with an expression Anakin couldn't quite decipher, and then she sighed and rose from the couch. "Have you asked Obi-Wan what he thinks about this whole thing?"

"Well…no, not exactly," Anakin admitted with a shrug.

"I'm going to bed," Padmé said abruptly, heading for their bedroom. "Are you coming?"

Anakin looked at her lovely face, the promise of her warmth and passion igniting his blood. So he could hardly believe himself, when he answered, "Yes...I'll just finish reading these records first."

As his wife left the living room, Anakin lifted the datapad from the table, opening the next record on the list. Initiate Uuna Lux. Thirteen. A native Coruscanti.

Alright Uuna. Let's see if you have got what it takes.

-o-

Continues in part II.