Disclaimer: Hmm. *checks watch* I should be owning Star Wars right about . . . never. And look at that! My wallet isn't getting any fuller from this story, either...

A/N: Ah, another Christmas-present-for-my-twin-sister story, originally completed December 2009. The idea for this story came to me in a dream, in which I had the pleasure of playing Obi-Wan. But enough about that. On with the story! And please review!

An Unusual Training Exercise

Even for a Jedi, twenty-four-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi was in a very strange position. His hands gripped the rungs of a ladder that had been carved into the sheer wooden wall of this Temple training room long before he had been born. His booted feet were pointed at the ceiling. The front of his body, from chest to knee, was resting lightly on the rungs, propped slightly against the rough wood to take some of the strain off his arms.

Leave it to other beings to climb the normal way. The Jedi went up ladders backwards.

"Master?" he called down to Qui-Gon Jinn, who stood observing his progress ten meters below. The single word came out in a bark, thrust from a body taught with exertion. Obi-Wan made an effort to control his tone as he asked, "When would I use the knowledge I've gained in this exercise?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Obi-Wan realized how impertinent they sounded. The question implied that Qui-Gon's training was pointless, and that the Master himself was lacking in judgment. Obi-Wan winced, wishing he could take the remark back.

But to his relief, he caught a hint of a smile on Qui-Gon's face. "Envision the situation, my Padawan," his mentor replied. "In the midst of battle, you are thrown through the air by your opponent, and manage to catch yourself against a ladder in the most awkward of positions. The ladder leads to an escape hatch, which is the only way out."

Despite the burning in his arms that was slowly rising in pitch, Obi-Wan smiled. That was what he loved about Qui-Gon. Any other Master would likely have rebuked Obi-Wan for his disrespect, told him that he was not to know—he was to do. But Qui-Gon was different. Rather than let his apprentice trust blindly in his wisdom and remain in the dark about the purpose of a training exercise, he chose to suggest an imaginary—yet realistic—situation in which the exercise would not only be handy, but necessary.

"You retreat up the ladder," Qui-Gon continued. "And your opponent advances . . ." He stepped forward meaningfully. ". . . with a blaster." Obi-Wan blinked in dismay as Qui-Gon drew a training droid from inside his robe. His Master pressed a button on the top of the sphere-shaped machine to activate it, and tapped a code into its control panel. Obi-Wan could only watch with trepidation as the droid, with a whine of its repulsorlifts, left Qui-Gon's hand and hovered up toward him. With both hands holding himself in place, he had no way to defend.

The droid jerked to the right, gauging Obi-Wan's reaction. But when Obi-Wan didn't move—how could he?—the droid attacked.

A red beam emerged from the droid's small mounted blasters. Obi-Wan knew where the shot would hit. The Force warned him when to move, but he couldn't obey. The beam connected with his shoulder. Obi-Wan yelped in pain and made the mistake of letting go of the rung with the arm that had been hit. Burning pain shot through his other shoulder now, as it was suddenly forced to support all his weight. He swayed wildly, his balance beyond correction, and fell.

He felt dizzy from the sudden, instinctive surge of fear felt by all Humans when they fall. His mind was clouded for only the briefest of moments before he calmed himself again. Qui-Gon's form rushed closer as he dropped. His Master had both hands stretched toward him, attempting to use the Force to slow his fall. Obi-Wan stretched his arms out to meet him, summoning the Force, as well. It pulsed around Obi-Wan as he reached the ground, moving with him. He broke his fall with his hands, allowed his momentum to carry him into a somersault, and rolled, the power of the Force sweeping him safely to his feet.

"Try again, Obi-Wan," his Master commanded him. His voice was firm and unyielding, but Obi-Wan caught the soft empathy in his eyes as he added, "I know you can do it."

Obi-Wan nodded, took a deep breath, and returned to the base of the ladder. He crouched, scooting as close to the wall as he could before placing his palms on the ground. Slowly he lifted his legs off the ground, knees bent. His feet stretched higher as his legs uncurled, until he was in a perfect handstand. Now for the hard part.

Obi-Wan drew the Force around him, relying on the strength it gave him. Pressing his feet against one of the rungs to steady himself, he took his left hand off the ground and grasped the first rung. His right arm screamed with protest, but the pain was gone in half a second as he quickly lifted his right hand to grasp the rung.

The worst was over, but he knew that the second climb up the ladder would be just as exhausting as the first, and probably more painful due to his already-sore muscles. He gritted his teeth and made his torturous way upward. Reaching toward his waist with one arm to grasp a rung and push upward with all his strength, he would steady himself with the other arm and his feet, until he had climbed one more rung and could grasp the rough wood with both hands. Then he would repeat the process with the opposite arm. Hand over hand he ascended, sweat running down his face and dripping to the floor far below, his jaw locked with concentration. His arms were trembling slightly from fatigue, but he kept his balance using his own willpower and the Force.

Finally, after he had gone eleven meters up the wall, Qui-Gon commanded the droid to attack again. Obi-Wan watched dismally as it flew up to him. He was about to be fired at for the second time, and there was still nothing he could do. His hands tightened on the rungs; a meter and a half above, his feet squeezed themselves into the hollow that resided above every rung.

His feet in the hollow . . . there was the answer. Obi-Wan had found the solution he needed. His facial expression didn't change as he balanced himself on his left hand and reached slowly upward with his right. The droid sensed his movement and positioned itself to fire.

In a whirl of motion, Obi-Wan made his move. His right hand pulled his lightsaber from his belt and activated it. He gave a mighty shove with his left arm, propelling himself to a temporary kneeling position, the front of his feet providing leverage by bracing themselves firmly in the small hollow, while on the next rung down, his knees bent to take the brunt of his weight. As his body curved upward, so did his weapon. In a whirl of light, his lightsaber sliced the droid cleanly in half, the screech of sheared metal piercing the air. The pieces plummeted to the ground. Before two seconds had gone by, Obi-Wan was using his free hand to push himself away from the wall and drop, feetfirst, to the floor. Executing a perfect landing in front of Qui-Gon, he held his Master at sword point for a few moments. Then he deactivated the lightsaber and hooked it back onto his belt.

"Excellent, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon declared with a satisfied smile. From the triumph gleaming in his eyes, it might have been he that had just scaled the wall instead of Obi-Wan. "You kept your mind calm and found a way to prevail, even though your predicament seemed impossible. It was a brilliant maneuver. Although," he remarked with half a smile, bending down to pick up the two durasteel halves, "the Council may not be pleased to discover that you've destroyed another training droid." Straightening up and tucking the remnants into his robe, he said crisply, "Now, are you ready for your lightsaber assessment?"

Obi-Wan's mouth opened slightly at the consternation his Master's words caused him. He had just climbed up a ladder twice—and backwards. His arms were fierily sore, from his shoulders to the very tips of his fingers. He wasn't sure if he had the strength left to parry a single blow with his lightsaber, let alone face off against another apprentice for who knew how long, as Qui-Gon watched appraisingly. The assessment would go poorly for him at best; more likely, he would end up making a complete fool out of himself.

But Obi-Wan Kenobi was a Jedi Padawan. His place was not to question his Master, but to trust that Qui-Gon knew what he was doing. So, instead of complaining or protesting, he bowed his head and replied meekly, "Yes, Master."

"Good." Qui-Gon laid one of his large hands bracingly on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Because it's not until tomorrow." Obi-Wan looked up just in time to catch the humor on Qui-Gon's face before the Jedi Master turned and walked away.

***The End***