Kaleidoscope
8, The Changing of the Guard I
It was late night on Yavin. After his usual practice of evening exercise and contemplation, Obi-Wan stretched his body on the hard mat – a lot less comfortable than Vader's cot, he thought with no small irritation – and closed his eyes. The worries he had been carrying with him for the past seven days had already been filtered out of his aura during his meditative routine. Padmé. Darth Vader. The safety of the Jedi, all clustered as they were on Yavin. The Grandmaster who had left barely moments before they had arrived on Coruscant, and whom Obi-Wan had not heard from since…
All those worried had been yielded to something greater than himself. When Obi-Wan lay down that night, his mind and heart were at peace and he fell asleep almost immediately.
''
28 Years Ago
His father had been a rich cloth trader from a world Obi-Wan knew but deliberately forgot. He barely remembered the older Kenobi's face, only his scratchy beard when he lifted Obi-Wan for a hug. He still remembered the vivid colours in the basement, the little caves of silk and cotton where he hid – why? He didn't remember. He remembered his mother's perfume more clearly than he did her face.
That he remembered at all was a failing.
"Your affections are your strength. Do not deny your them," his Masters told him later.
Obi-Wan was a model student in every regard but that one.
They had travelled to Alderaan for business. Obi-Wan huddled close to his parents in the cruiser and tried not to look too hard at the two hooded figures when they passed the family in the cafeteria. He was not the only one. Everyone else on board regarded the elite passengers with equal respect and fear.
He still remembered his mother's whisper.
"The Emperor's Hands," she said to his father.
It was a testament to his determination that even though he vividly remembered all the events of the day that his life before and his life after were cleaved so cleanly apart – his memory of his parents even on that day remained vague and indistinct.
When they were boarding, the elite ones had approached his parents. He forgot the conversation the way he forgot most things about his parents.
His parents had been sad – and proud. That he remembered.
The Hands had left the spaceport with the Kenobis.
Later on, he found out that there was a vessel waiting to take them to the Capital where the Royal Family themselves would have hosted the family – and their new travelling companions. Later on, he found out that the Jedi did not sabotage the vessel – but a pure chance caused the delay – and his salvation. Later on.
While he huddled between his parents on the coach, he had watched the bird-like woman with snowy hair make her way gracefully down the aisle.
The only seat to spare was across from him. Her eyes were brown and lively in her lined face and she had smiled at him.
Longing filled his heart so sharply that he couldn't breathe. His mother had touched his hair, he remembered that.
"Obi-Wan, are you alright?"
He remembered his mother's question, even though he couldn't remember her voice. He remembered how Winama's eyes had fixed on him and how the tears had filled his eyes. He didn't take his eyes off her all through out the journey, not even to sleep.
They travelled for eighteen hours.
Halfway through the journey, the old woman had bought sweets and shared with the family. His mother must have been an unassuming woman, to have allowed him to eat them. Or maybe it was the idea of the two silent sentinels seated across from them in the aisle. They had looked up when the old woman made her offer, and then ignored her.
A few minutes before the boarding call, the old woman had left. He had waited with his parents, feeling his heart pounding painfully in his chest.
"I need to go to the 'fresher," he said at last.
He was four. He didn't need his mother to come with him and she didn't offer to follow. He turned the corner and the old woman was waiting.
"I want to come with you."
Her eyes were very, very sad. "Are you sure? Your parents will be worried. I don't know when you'll see them again."
"I want to come with you," he insited.
She took his hand. "You can always change your mind."
He hadn't. Not then. Not ever.
Later when he helped find children, he always marvelled out how the older ones hesitated – even the ones that had been rescued from Clinics and had witnessed first hand the harm their families did in their misguided efforts to 'cure' them.
"Attachments are not always sensible," his Masters told him, "and loyalties can be misguided. But it is our loyalty to those we love that make us different from The Others."
Obi-Wan looked down at Asajj Ventress, who wept herself to sleep every night even though her 'loving' father, when confronted with his child and her treatment in the 'Clinic', had almost succeeded in betraying her and the Jedi to the Imperial Police.
"I am loyal," Obi-Wan said. He just wasn't sure he loved. Or needed to.
''
25 Years Ago
To be a Jedi required a sound mind and a disciplined body.
He met the Grandmaster for the first time when he was nine. The old man had accompanied the Guardian and a few children to Hoth, and there they camped in the underwater caves and taken lessons in meditation and fencing.
"Do you ever wonder if you'd be happier elsewhere?" The Grandmaster asked him one day.
"No."
"Do you ever miss home, Obi-Wan?"
"This is my home." He meant it.
Even Grandmasters could be sad.
''
19 Years Ago
The little girl had bitten through his ear. He didn't realize it until almost a day later when the Grandmaster had found them, hiding in the sewers in Naboo.
"You saved the little girl."
"I failed," Obi-Wan sobbed. "I failed…"
The Grandmaster touched Obi-Wan's ear. Only then did he feel pain. Then a warm rush of sensation almost immediately eclipsed the pain.
The old, venerable face peered into the young boy's eyes. "You did well, Obi-Wan. One day you will realize that."
Later on, he told Obi-Wan that failure and success were illusions. All events, regardless of their outcome, were mere milestones in the tapestry of history. The most important thing was to do one's duty in the time that one had to do it. And Obi-Wan had done just that. One day, the Grandmaster said, Obi-Wan would realize it.
Nineteen years later, and the day had not come.
''
The blue blade blazed brightly out of his palm, an extension of himself. He wondered how he had ever lived without one.
''
"The Others are the victims, not you or I. Do not hate them, Obi-Wan. If there is one emotion you should spurn, it is hate."
''
9 Years Ago
Another mission gone wrong. Obi-Wan had huddled in his cot as the fighter left Corellia. Failed. Failed. Failed.
"Everyone makes mistakes," Asajj whispered.
He didn't answer.
It was the first time the Grandmaster had spoken to him sternly.
"Do want to be perfect, Obi-Wan? Do you think you can be flawless?"
"No, but-"
"Otherwise leave us, mere mortals! Submit yourself to the Emperor's Court! There mistakes are never tolerated! There exists perfection!"
The old man's anger had frightened Obi-Wan badly.
''
There was no braid - it was too great an indication - but the dubbing on both shoulders remained of the ancient customs.
"This is my home."
He had never felt so sure of those words as the day the cold blade of the sabre rested gently against one side of his neck, then the other.
''
6 Years Ago
"Do you wonder if we're wrong and maybe the Others are the real heroes and we, Jedi, are just rebels?" Asajj whispered as they watched the ordination of the new Sith Lord via the holo-vid.
It was strange but Obi-Wan almost felt sympathy for the late Darth Vapaad. To be ousted by a boy was a humiliation anyone would feel.
"I do sometimes," Xanatos confessed. Obi-Wan stared at him shock and the older boy shrugged. "Sometimes," he said defensively.
Obi-Wan never did.
He studied the still-chubby face of the new Darth Vader and wondered – if that speeder had not malfunctioned – if he, Obi-Wan, would ever have been good enough to be a Sith Lord.
Foolish thing to think, really.
''
"What happens if my Grandmother does not train another?"
Obi-Wan frowned over his caf, unhappy at this line of questioning. "You mean…?"
"If she dies without leaving a successor." Bluntly.
He winced, pushed the caf away. "Well, it's happened before. There are a few non-sensitives that help Jedi as well as the Guardian. The Grandmaster will make an offer to one, and if he or she accepts, then some Jedi Masters will take up his training."
Her face was thoughtful as she sipped her caf. "So it's not an unbroken line."
"No, it's not."
She looked outside the window. It was springtime on Naboo, and there were children in the park outside the caf shop. They were rolling in a pile of autumn leaves, much to the consternation of the cleaning droids sweeping the park.
The pale afternoon light glowed against her profile. It was amazing really how she had grown from a rather plain child to a very beautiful woman.
Almost woman.
"Do you see those children outside, Obi-Wan? They look so happy, so full of life? It is only make-believe. Their happiness is a lie. As long as the Empire continues to exist on the sacrifice of the innocent, on lies and blood – everything of beauty in this galaxy is a lie."
Padmé Naberrie said it very plainly, very matter-of-factly. Obi-Wan didn't have a reply but then, she probably hadn't expected one.
So he said sternly. "Your grandmother has strongly forbidden us to teach you."
She smiled. "And that is why you came when I sent for you. Why you always come."
He bristled. "I am trying to keep you out of trouble." And I follow the Grandmaster's orders, even though I do not always understand them.
"What trouble? Now that Sabé's found herself a new boyfriend," – and here Obi-Wan tensed because he had never, ever forgiven Sabé Jankerrie – "I've never been as far away from trouble as I am now."
"All the more reason to keep an eye on you," Obi-Wan said sternly. "Your idleness might make you restless." And if you press hard enough, I will give you the information you need – as I have been instructed to.
Her smile widened, her attention still on the children outside.
"This is not a game, Padmé," he said sternly, irked.
She turned sharply to him then. Her eyes were narrowed into slits. Suddenly, she looked exactly like the little girl that had bitten through his ear. "Don't you tell me that this is not a game. My parents died because of this. So did my sister. You have lost no-one."
''
Padmé Naberrie already had an apartment of her own. She had come into her inheritance at the age of fourteen and left the Jankerries a year after. She was still tied to them, though. Visited them whenever she could. Sabé Jankerrie was a constant presence in her apartment. Whenever he visited her on Naboo, and tutored her on the rudiments of her chosen profession, he wondered at the emotional ties that everyone else seemed to form so easily.
''
He had broken the news to Padmé. It was the summer of the same year.
She had sat very quietly in the caf and watched a group of university students that she knew pass by in the latest summer fashions.
She was silent for a long time after he told her. This time, it was her eyes on her caf and her face was expressionless.
"I barely knew her," she said at last. Her voice sounded like if it was coming from far away. "When I was small, she was just an idea I had in my mind. I brought it out whenever Sabé was … difficult." She smiled a little. A twisted little smile. "The idea that Sola and I had family somewhere, and we could up and go live with my Grandmother when we so pleased. I barely remember all the times we met her as a child, stayed in her house for the holidays. Then there was the fire…"
The old sense of failure and anger filled him.
"I do remember when I told her to choose between me – and you."
"Me?" Obi-Wan said, shocked.
Padmé laughed a little and her head bent even lower over the table. It was a dry, choking laugh. "Your kind," she said simply.
"Then… then we met again and I didn't ask her to choose." She took a sip of her caf and he noticed that she was drinking her own tears. They ran down her cheeks, made her face almost translucent with grief.
He sat across from her and watched as she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.
He, too, had loved Winama.
''
2 Weeks Ago
Not just a mission to Coruscant, the Imperial Centre, but an infiltration into the Imperial Palace itself.
"He has to go with someone," Asajj exclaimed, her eyes wide with fear. She loved him, Obi-Wan suspected.
"It is imperative that he goes alone," the Grandmaster insisted. "I have other orders for you."
Before he left, he had taken Obi-Wan aside.
"You have the holo with you?"
Obi-Wan nodded.
The Grandmaster regarded the young Jedi. "You need to start one day."
"Start what, Master?"
"Asking questions. Questioning the wisdom of your 'betters'."
"Why-"
"Questioning every thing and everyone – even me."
Obi-Wan didn't argue. But he didn't agree either. The Grandmaster smiled ruefully because he knew that, too.
He turned to go and the Grandmaster stopped him, clamped his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"In all things, trust your feelings, Obi-Wan. And your heart. Especially your heart."
''
Seven Days Ago
His heart had told him not to kill Darth Vader.
''
Now
The persistent calling of his name made his wake. Then he saw it. For a moment he thought the image was an apparition. He had been studying with Padmé recently and they had just learnt about the ability to keep one's form even after becoming one with the Force.
It was not an apparition – just a holo-recording coming alive. But his first guess wasn't very wrong.
"Master Obi-wan."
"Master," he whispered, sitting up at once and staring at the holo-image. "Master, where are you?"
"…programmed to activate if I've been gone for seven days…"
It was a still, windless night on Yavin. But Obi-Wan felt a soft breeze touch the back of his neck. He didn't notice this. He was almost smacking himself for asking a question of a holo-recording…
"…remember, Master Obi-Wan? I told you once that failure and success are illusions. They are merely milestones of history…"
"Master?" He whispered, making the same mistake again and not caring. "Master, what did you call me?"
"…only hope. As you will soon realize, Grandmaster Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Force will have its way with all…"
tbc
