The light saber flew through the air and landed with a clatter on the floor. At the same time, its wielder let out a cry of pain.
''Incorrect again,'' Qui-Gon Jinn sighed. ''But no matter. Things like this take time to learn.''
It was evening. Qui-Gon Jinn and his young Padawan learner had been training all day. Despite overall success in most areas, Obi-Wan was have having trouble with one particular tactic, named simply 'Xatex'. It was by no means an easy move, as it involved tossing your lightsaber up in the air and then catching it again, which confused your opponent, giving you time to dodge around them.
The downside was that if you caught it in the wrong place, you would lose a hand.
Obi-Wan Kenobi sat cross-legged on the floor, nursing a long gash on his arm. ''I know that, Master,'' he replied, looking up at Qui-Gon. ''But I'm still the only apprentice unable to toss my saber and catch it again without slicing my arm open.''
''All you need is more practice, Obi-Wan,'' Qui-Gon said patiently. "It took me two years to master the manoeuvre myself. I'm sure you will do it faster than that. I know I've said this before, but you have more potential than any of your fellow apprentices.''
Obi-Wan stared moodily at the floor again. ''So you keep telling me,'' he said sourly. ''But the funny thing is, at this moment in time, I seem to have more broken sabers than knowledge, more scars than broken sabers, and about as much skill as a one-legged Gungan. I never learn, I can never get the moves right, I always break everything. Let's face it, Master, I was never meant to be a Jedi.''
''Never say that, Obi-Wan. Who is ever going to believe in you if you don't even believe in yourself?'' Qui-Gon knelt down next to Obi-Wan as he sat hunched over his arm. ''I say it again, Obi-Wan, have patience. The Force is strong within you.''
Obi-Wan lifted his head and stared his master straight in the eye. ''Do you know what?'' he said angrily. ''I've had enough of the stupid Force. I'm fed up with sitting here and waiting for things to get better. I'm sick of all the stupid comments I get from people.'' Obi-Wan paused, drawing breath, and then shouted, ''And guess what? I'm sick and tired of being patient!''
Qui-Gon looked on helplessly as Obi-Wan jumped to his feet. Grabbing his cloak and his light saber, he ran from the room.
Qui-Gon cursed under his breath. He had hoped that this would not happen again. Now he would have to go and talk to him. And Obi-Wan would not want to listen. He never did.
When Obi-Wan finally stopped running, he found himself on one of the top floor balconies. It was deserted, so he sat on one of the steel benches to calm down. For a long time he remained in the silence, trying to still his racing thoughts.
Think. Breathe. Why are you here? Why are you sitting out here, in the cold and the dark, when you should be inside, training?
Stupid question. You lost control again. Just like you always do.
You went wrong. You messed up. You've failed. And you're only going to fail again.
Give up now, while you still can. So, you only cut your arm this time. But what about next time? It might be your stomach, or your back… or your neck.
Give up before you do something stupid. Give up, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or you're going to end up killing yourself.
What am I saying?
Of course you're going to mess up sometimes. That's how life is. Are you going to break down and give up, just because you've run into a bit of trouble? Pull yourself together. You're a Jedi. Nobody said this was going to be easy.
Concentrate, Obi-Wan, calm yourself down. Return to your Master. Tell him you're sorry.
I can't.
Sensing somebody approaching, Obi-Wan looked up. His stomach dropped as he saw Qui-Gon walking towards him. He would be punished now for his insolence, he was sure of it.
''Obi-Wan.'' Qui-Gon Jinn spoke with the commanding voice that Obi-Wan was so familiar with.
He swallowed hard. ''Yes, Master?'' He dared not look at Qui-Gon. He didn't want to have to see the disappointment on his face again.
''Obi-Wan,'' he repeated. "You should not let your emotions get the better of you.'' Obi-Wan nodded, twirling the end of his plait round his finger. ''But I understand your frustration,'' Qui-Gon continued. ''You have not progressed, and you are troubled.''
Obi-Wan nodded again. ''Yes, Master,'' he muttered. ''My training is not going as well as I would have hoped."
Qui-Gon laughed. "You expect far too much of yourself. Of course you are not as skilled as myself yet. Nor should you be. After all, you have but 15 years to your name. And might I add that when I was 15, I had maybe only half the skills that you do.''
Obi-Wan did not appear to be listening. In fact, he seemed to be closely examining his shoes. Finally he stood up. "I'm sorry, Master, for losing control. I will do better next time."
Qui-Gon smiled, pleased to see the old determination back again. ''Well, now is the perfect time to prove it. The Jedi Masters come tomorrow to view the progress of the Padawans. I wish for you to participate in a duel.'' Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise.
''With lightsabers?'' he said uncertainly. "We'll cut each other to pieces.''
"Which is why you'll not be using them,'' Qui-Gon said shortly. ''Come on; I think it's time we returned to the training area. I have something to show you.'' As they left the deserted balcony, Obi-Wan turned and looked up into the star ridden sky. It suddenly dawned on him how very small he was. The universe was a huge place. For all the places he had seen, there were hundreds more that he had not. The thought unnerved him.
''Catch!'' Straightening up, Qui-Gon tossed Obi-Wan a long metal pole. Obi-Wan caught it and ran his hand down the length of the blade. It was roughly the length of his own lightsaber, if not a bit longer. The silver hilt had an odd symbol inscribed in the metal. The end split into two sharp points.
''This is called a tíak,'' Qui-Gon informed him. ''Use it as you would a lightsaber, but be careful; a jab with one of these could prove fatal."
Obi-Wan gripped the tíak with both hands. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" Qui-Gon nodded, keen eyes fixated on Obi-Wan as he swung the tíak around his head.
''Steady," Qui-Gon instructed. "Hold it tighter. Don't let it slip from your grasp." Qui-Gon crossed to the table and picked up another, slightly longer tíak. "Now, turn: hold your left hand slightly further down. Dodge - like this - then bring your tíak round to meet mine."
He slowly guided Obi-Wan through a series of complicated movements, talking to him all the while "Slowly turn, then strike - yes! That's it, and again..."
For around an hour and a half, they sparred with the tíaks. It took Obi-Wan a while to get used to the weight, as it was slightly heaver than a standard lightsaber. And although he excelled at everything else, he still couldn't quite manage the Xatex manoeuvre, which left him feeling slightly disappointed in himself.
Qui-Gon, however, seemed pleased with his Padawan's efforts. "Good work," he said, panting slightly. "I think that will have to do for today."
"You're sure I'm ready for this?" Obi-Wan asked nervously.
"As sure as anything," Qui-Gon replied. "But you are never truly ready unless you believe you are. The real question is, are you ready? Will you do it?"
Obi-Wan swallowed, his resolve hardening.
''I'll do it.''
I can't do this.
But it was too late now. For there he was, by the arena, preparing to out and fight. And the worst of it was that he was fighting none other than Bruck Chun, his long-time rival. Bruck had always had it in for him, and even more so in the past few months. Bruck's closest friend, Siri Tachi, had recently been showing a bit more of an interest in Obi-Wan than before, and Chun was growing more jealous by the day.
''Kenobi!"
Obi-Wan was brought sharply back to earth by his own best friend, Bant. Her glassy eyes expressed sympathy, but at the same time they shone with excitement.
"You better whoop his ass, Obi-Wan," she grinned, "or I'll do it for you."
Obi-Wan breathed in, trying to immerse himself in the Force. He didn't want to let Bruck beat him again.