VERY . . . . UNEXPECTED
by ardavenport
"Grave is this journey you will all undertake," Master Yoda said, his voice cracking between high and low tones, his walking stick tapping with each struggling step across the circular pattern of the floor.
Eight year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi stood straighter, focused and not fidgeting as he had been taught. Like a Jedi. Yoda looked around at the fourteen couples standing at the edge of the outer circle on the floor. Obi-Wan felt the large presence of the Jedi Master next to him, very close, but not touching, the dark brown robe a tempting distraction in his peripheral vision on his left. He kept his eyes forward.
"Begin, now, you may," Yoda said, a small figure under the center lights of the room, shadows under him, his large kind green eyes giving them permission.
Straightening his shoulders, Obi-Wan stepped forward and then turned around. His head level, Obi-Wan could barely see his new Master's bearded face towering above him. He could already hear the voices of others, giving their vows to their new Masters. He went to his knees.
"I pledge myself to the service of the Force and to the Jedi Code. And I pledge myself to your teachings. My Master," Obi-Wan said, his heart beating fast, loud in his ears. He had said it. With no mistakes.
"I accept your pledge and your service," Qui-Gon Jinn replied calmly. Obi-Wan felt his heart beat slow, relief flowing into him. "And I pledge myself to your teaching. Rise, Obi-Wan Kenobi. My Padawan." Then Obi-Wan saw Master Qui-Gon's hand, the palm facing him.
The gesture caught Obi-Wan in intense indecision. It was different from what he had practiced. Should he accept? Was the change a test?
Obi-Wan put his hand in his Master's. Qui-Gon helped him to stand. Looking around, Obi-Wan saw the other new Padawans, many of them wide-eyed, mouths open, standing close to their new Masters. Yoda, squatting in the center of the room, smiled at them all.
A touch, a large hand on his shoulder prompted Obi-Wan to finally turn his head upward. His bearded face smiling, Qui-Gon extended an arm toward the doorway. They went together, joining the others, filing into a small entryway and down a wide stone spiral staircase out of the center spire of the Temple. Just before he descended below the floor, Obi-Wan saw Yoda, still sitting on the floor, smiling after them.
Obi-Wan spent the next few hours with Qui-Gon, tending the ordinary details of his change of status. Moving his clothes and learning tools and projects from the creche dormitory to his own room. Getting fresh soaps, clothes and new equipment from the supply droids. And a new robe. Sharing his first meal with Qui-Gon in the eating hall. Qui-Gon introducing him to new instructors who would also teach him. A long discussion about how his training would change and what he must accomplish before he would be allowed to be sent on missions in a few years.
Their last task for the day was a visit to the med-center, for a standard physical examination by the medical droids. Obi-Wan walked carefully at his Master's side and one step behind. And he was mindful. He folded his arms before him, hiding them in the sleeves of his new robe, just like Qui-Gon and the other Jedi Knights did. He felt older this day, though he thought, as he stole a quick glance upwards, not any taller.
Becoming a Jedi Knight was harder than he thought. He wanted to run, wave his arms and shout with happiness. He wanted to find his clan mates who had been with him making their pledges and find out what the other Masters were like. Not walk stoically along with Qui-Gon.
His eyes darted to his side. Qui-Gon's lightsaber was concealed under his robe. He had hardly seen it all day. Obi-Wan was too young and small to carry one himself, but he wondered when he would. Nothing had been said about when he would learn to build his own during the training discussions. Obi-Wan resolved to be worthy of that responsibility as soon as possible.
They arrived at the med-center and Qui-Gon told the reception droid what they had come for and he presented Obi-Wan. The droid peered down at him with its glowing yellow eye sensors, nodded its angular metaloid head and invited Qui-Gon to wait in the reception area.
Eyes wide, Obi-Wan looked up from droid to Master. He had expected Qui-Gon to accompany him. They had been together all day. They had even gone to the fresher together. But Qui-Gon just nodded politely and patted Obi-Wan on the shoulder.
Now grimly determined, Obi-Wan nodded agreement. After Qui-Gon's hand gave him a little nudge in the middle of his back, he followed the droid's sticks-and-struts legs through the plain corridors of the med-center to a large room with clusters of equipment, separated by blue and white screens. After removing his outer clothes as the medical droid, TSK-4, requested, Obi-Wan lay down on a table more than twice as long as he was and stayed still while the droid's machines passed over him, humming and flashing and glowing blue.
After the scanning finished, Obi-Wan sat up and TSK-4 poked and jabbed him in places, filling tiny vials with samples that it swiftly passed on to a squat analysis unit that trundled away with them. The droid politely told him that he was finished, could redress and rejoin his Master.
Feeling alone in the big room of medical machines, Obi-Wan put his clothes back on. The med-center was very different from other parts of the Temple. It was like the mission places where Jedi directed and talked about their service in the rest of the galaxy, but the focus of the med-center had an unpleasant intensity of people, injured and sick, or even dying, instead of cool, simple and unemotional activity. He wound through the corridors by himself, his own focus on rejoining his new Master and leaving.
When Obi-Wan finally reached the open doorway back into the reception area he immediately spotted Qui-Gon. But his Master sat facing away from him. Next to another Jedi. Their hands clasped together.
Unseen, Obi-Wan blinked. He looked at the other Jedi. She wore a long, off-white tunic, covering her completely, her tan, booted feet poking out underneath. Over the tunic, she wore the same color of tan robe. And though her face was round and smooth, her hair was gray and short though her eyebrows were dark and heavy, like her expression.
Her brown eyes suddenly flicked toward him. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, feeling strongly that he should go away, but thinking that he shouldn't. The woman leaned close to Qui-Gon, who bent his head toward her.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon's voice said, loud in the muffled quiet of the reception area.
Obi-Wan jumped.
Qui-Gon and the strange woman sat back from each other and stood as Obi-Wan respectfully approached.
"Boliv, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. My new Padawan," Qui-Gon said, his arm extended to Obi-Wan. "Obi-Wan, this is Jedi Master Boliv. She was my first Padawan." Smiling, she bowed to him.
Obi-Wan gaped, staring up at this new . . . . possibility. Of course, Qui-Gon must have had other apprentices. He was a Jedi Master after all. But Obi-Wan had never expected them to be real.
Boliv was a head shorter than Qui-Gon, but her shoulders were just as broad. And she had the hugest chest that Obi-Wan had ever seen in any Human woman. Master Th'Takm's was bigger, but she was a Gruthem. Long tunic and tabbards hung down from her shoulders over the double curves of her bosom that shadowed the wide belt at her waist, her light brown robe pushed back to her sides.
And Obi-Wan could see her lightsaber. It was all bright shiny metal except for a roughened golden hand grip. It was completely different from Qui-Gon's with an angled emitter shroud that shone with a mirror finish. A silver neck with four brassy collar rings connected the emitter to the power-cell end of the saber.
Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan . . . ."
Obi-Wan started. He belatedly bowed to Master Boliv and then grimaced because it was so rushed and clumsy. He suddenly felt much younger again.
Boliv grinned, folding her hands before her.
"A fine choice, Master Qui-Gon," she announced. "Tell me young Obi-Wan, what will you teach this old rogue?"
Obi-Wan gaped again. What could he teach Master Qui-Gon?
"What did you teach him, Master Boliv?" he asked because he could not think of anything else. Boliv seemed to approve of the question.
"How to hug, for one thing." Her smiling brown eyes went to the man beside her. "He got precious little of that from old Dooku."
"Master Dooku was a fine teacher," Qui-Gon stated.
"I suppose. If all you care about is lightsabers and keeping up appearances." Then Boliv stepped toward Obi-Wan and knelt to his level. He steadied himself as she laid her wide hands on his arms. She did not frighten him, but she was very . . . . unexpected. "Never forget, Obi-Wan, that the Padawan teaches the Master just as the Master teaches the Padawan. Otherwise, nobody would learn anything. Now," she grasped his arms firmly, "can you hug?"
Obi-Wan mutely nodded, not understanding the purpose of that question at all.
"Please show me then," she told him.
He swallowed, not comfortable with hugging this stranger. But she had been a Padawan to Master Qui-Gon, just as he was now, and she was a Jedi Master. He leaned forward, his arms going around her broad neck and when he got a good grip he squeezed with his whole body pressed into her soft, rounded bosom.
"Aaaah, you're a strong one!" she said gladly. They both rose in the air and Obi-Wan felt as if he had no weight at all. It was the Force.
He pulled back enough to look a her. She supported him under his bottom with one thick arm. Like a youngling, but he did not mind. She grinned, inviting another hug and he clasped her neck again and squeezed with enthusiasm, feeling his strength flow with hers along with the bunches of clean coarse robe fabric that he buried his nose in.
"Now," Boliv said behind his ear. She turned. "Show your new Master what you can do."
Obi-Wan felt himself being lifted, Boliv's hands under his arms and there was Qui-Gon's face, closer than he had ever seen it with too many lines and pores of the skin, too much rough hair of beard and mustache. His nose was much more crooked than Obi-Wan had ever thought, and bigger. And his eyes were very deep blue. Obi-Wan grasped his Master around the neck as far as his arms could go and squeezed.
It felt very different. Aside from all the hair, the strong scent of older adult and the finer texture of the dark brown hood of Qui-Gon's robe, Obi-Wan suddenly felt heavier, gravity pulling him down . . . .
. . . . then Qui-Gon caught him, lifting him up higher than Boliv had. The strength Obi-Wan felt from him was different, less rounded and . . . . taller. When Obi-Wan pulled back, Qui-Gon, smiling, tugged long strands of brown hair caught under Obi-Wan's arm and he tried to help.
A whir from behind caught their attention and when Obi-Wan turned he saw the reception droid standing in the entryway.
"We have finished the procedure, Master Boliv. Zaurot Khys is ready to see you now."
"I must go," Boliv almost pleaded, the warmth gone from her brown eyes. But it returned a little when she reached up, her fingertips brushing Obi-Wan's cheek. The edges of the Force felt rounded again. "I am very glad to meet you Obi-Wan. I think you will be very good for Qui-Gon here."
"The Force be with you," Qui-Gon said.
Boliv barely whispered a hasty 'And with you.' before she turned and hurried after the droid, taking her rounded edges with her. Obi-Wan felt the uncomfortable intensity of the med-center all around, pressing in on them. When he turned his head back to Qui-Gon, he saw that intensity in those dark blue eyes.
"You look sad," Obi-Wan said, giving a word to what he felt. Qui-Gon's eyes looked at him.
"Boliv is here to visit her Padawan, who was badly injured in their last mission."
"Is she going to die?" Obi-Wan blurted out, his first thought about the dire expressions he had seen.
"No," Qui-Gon said. "But she will be much changed by her injuries. And the future is unclear about what those will be."
Obi-Wan was not quite sure what 'much changed' could be. If you lived, the droids could always fix you. But he could see that it made Qui-Gon and especially Boliv very sad. He clasped Qui-Gon around the neck again and squeezed hard. After a moment, he felt light again. Obi-Wan sighed. The sigh turned into a yawn.
His new Master carried him all the way to his new room from the med-center. Even though he was much too old to be carried like a youngling, Obi-Wan did not mind.
= = = END = = =
This story first posted on tf.n: 22-Feb-2009
The character, Boliv, also appears in my stories 'First Flight' and 'Growing Pains'.
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.