Growing Pains
Roughing It- Part 1
"So… this will involve camping?" Obi-Wan clarified, dutifully suppressing any hint of emotion or disapproval.
Qui-Gon Jinn leaned back against the passenger compartment bulkhead. "Unless you intend to complete the entire ascent in the course of one day without resting, yes, Padawan. We will need to pitch a camp at night."
"Primitive camping."
The tall man's brows lifted gently. "You will be carrying the ambassadorial suite on your back, if that is what you are asking, Obi-Wan."
The young Jedi studied his – perfectly clean- fingernails, mouth twisting ruefully. "I just wanted to be clear on precisely how filthy this is going to be."
The Jedi master waved a hand through the air, gesturing vaguely. "Abject savagery, young one. As in digging a hole when natural occasion calls for it."
His apprentice's jaw hardened into a stubborn line. "Sounds like an occasion for exercising subtle control over involuntary functions."
Now Qui-Gon leaned forward, thin laugh lines radiating about his eyes. He tweaked his student's short braid. "You are hereby forbidden to do any such thing. Fastidiousness is not the Jedi way."
Obi-Wan's arms crossed sullenly over his chest. "Yes, Master."
"Besides," the tall man continued, placatingly, "I am depending upon you to set a good example for Padawan Minou."
This change of topic provided a salutary distraction.
"I think he was in Bear Clan… but I was under the impression he was quite a bit younger. I remember Garen and he playing push-feather once, and he was only knee-high."
"Ah. But Zygerrians grow and mature rapidly. Unlike certain members of Dragon clan, hm?"
The jest earned him an eloquent scowl. "Quality is worth waiting for, Master. I thought patience was the Jedi way?"
"Indeed. Judging by the wait time, I am giddy with anticipation for the final result… however distant in the future that may be."
"I wouldn't focus on events too far in the future, Master," his apprentice archly replied. "A man of your advanced years would do better to count his present blessings."
"Brat. You are going to shame your old Master in front of an old friend. Feemor will doubtlessly accuse me of losing my touch."
"I haven't met Master Ossus before. You haven't told me about him."
There was a slight undercurrent of accusation in the young Jedi's tone; Qui-Gon smiled wolfishly. "I can seldom get a word in edgewise, Obi-Wan. How am I to tell you anything?"
"I'm listening now, Master."
But the tall man merely broadened his smile and leaned back again. "Patience is the Jedi way, Padawan."
Padawan Minou's silken headfur bristled as he made the requisite bow of respect to Qui-Gon Jinn – a Jedi master whose reputation, it would seem, always preceded him.
The lithe young Zygerrian's master, on the other hand, clearly knew the tall man well – his laughing amber brown eyes communicated a wry awareness of his new apprentice's thoughts regarding the infamous maverick and a secret enjoyment of the joke at Qui-Gon's expense.
Whereupon the latter person's Padawan took it in his turn to bristle.
Obi-Wan. A placating hand settled on the young Jedi's shoulder. "Feemor, this is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
It would be difficult not to like Feemor Ossus upon first introduction – the man emanated a warmth and wisdom not unlike Qui-Gon's own. But Obi-Wan was up to any challenge where the defense of his mentor's honor was concerned, and he did not like the casual insouciance of this interloper's attitude toward his revered teacher.
"Master Ossus," he said, with perfect cool formality, bowing just a little lower than Zee Minou had.
Both older men broke into a hearty laugh, startling their two smaller companions badly.
"Feemor," Qui-Gon smirked. "I am afraid the younger generation is laboring under a misconception." He extended both arms then, and embraced the other Jedi in the seldom-seen kiss of peace, a rare display of affection and trust. The gesture was returned with great solemnity.
"It has been far, far too long, Master," Feemor Ossus replied, his eyes still laughing.
Obi-Wan gaped, and then blushed, focused suddenly upon the small gleek beetle crawling over his left boot-toe.
"Why don't you two young ones unload the survival gear from the shuttle? I'll have our pilot drop us at the trailhead."
"Yes, Master," Padawan Minou purred, scampering up the open ramp with his ears flattened against his head.
Qui-Gon waved a hand at his own apprentice, sending him off on the same errand. As the young Jedi ascended into their shuttle's hull, he risked a backward glance only to find that Qui-Gon Jinn and the other Knight were already deeply engaged in fond conversation, their dark cloaks ruffling merrily in the cool morning breeze.
The Zygerrian Padawan did not prove so timid once they were out of earshot.
"Is it true?" he demanded, so soon as they were alone in the hold.
Obi-Wan opened the first storage locker. "Is what true?" he retorted, wincing at the vexed timbre of his own voice.
Zee's exotically slanted eyes narrowed, his fur rippling again. "Does he defy the Council? Does he flout every regulations? That he orders you to do the same? Can he really disappear and reappear in another place with the aid of the Force?"
His interlocutor's expression must have been comical, for Padawan Minou's throaty chuckle echoed off the smooth duraplast paneling.
Obi-Wan dumped the survival gear into the textured deck matting and checked in the other locker. "No," he answered, curtly. "There is no such thing as Force teleportation, and you should not listen to all the rumors you hear in the initiate dorms."
Especially the ones about Padawan Kenobi's infamous exploits.
The young Zygerrian grinned, as though reading his companion's thoughts, revealing alarmingly pointed teeth. "I was sort of hoping it all was true," he confessed.
Obi-Wan softened toward him, a bit. Besides, Zee was only nine standard years old, though he looked more to be an age-mate. Allowances had to be made. "There's two protein bars left. The kind with cairbb. Want one?"
They enthusiastically demolished the remaining shipboard rations – a Jedi was always prepared, and an adolescent always hungry – and shouldered their various burdens, dividing the load equally despite Zee's apparent smaller size.
"Master Ossus said we'll be roughing it," the Zygerrian lamented quietly as they descended the ramp again. His tone conveyed a delicate distaste, one tinged with contempt. "Dirt everywhere," he hissed.
Obi-Wan decided that the younger padawan was a very decent fellow. "So uncivilized," he agreed.
The day's arduous ascent – up the steep incline that comprised the mountain's lower reaches- was not so very uncivilized. Though barren and desolate, the rock face was devoid of abundant filth, washed by perpetual rains and polished to sea-stone smoothness by a grit-laden wind. By noon, the entire party was drenched to the bone and all but Zee, who had the natural advantage of thicker skin, felt their faces and hands had been scoured to a tender redness.
They found shelter from the downpour in a natural overhang. The masters huddled comfortably at the back of this dank portico, watching in amusement as the padawans hauled the heavy gear into the cleft and settled miserably beside them.
Zee Minou was all but hissing audibly as he folded himself down beside Feemor Ossus.
"You fretted about dirt during the entire journey here, Zee, and now you don't appreciate the Force-given bath? A Jedi should not be so contrary," the Knight gently chided.
His apprentice hunched into a disconsolate and darkly muttering ball.
Obi-Wan caught his own teacher's eye, a glint of amusement shining in the Force between them. Apparently he was not the only long-suffering padawan in the Order to endure relentless teasing at the hands of his master.
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "Misery loves company; I think you and Zee might be fast friends."
Master Ossus was more bark than bite, however, for he quickly rummaged in the packs and brought forth some self-heating ration packs, which he distributed to the younger pair of Jedi first. "We made good progress," he observed kindly. "If the storm lets up, we may yet make the lower summit by nightfall."
This seemed to amuse Qui-Gon. "Do you remember Terguu 3?"
Feemor Ossus indulged in a long chuckle. "I've blocked the recollection." He dared a broad wink in Obi-Wan's direction. "Repressing traumatic memory has been my foremost means of recuperating from your master's training."
The young Jedi glanced sideways at his mentor, but the tall man merely smiled indulgently and wagged an amiable finger at Zee. "He's dropping a clue, young one. Attend carefully."
The Zygerrian listened to the exchange with perked ears and wide yellow eyes. His broad flat nose twitched confusedly. "What do you mean?"
Obi-Wan sprawled backward on his elbows. "They mean they will present us for the Trials so soon as we've grown wise enough to ignore their wisdom."
Zee gaped.
Feemor guffawed. "You've grown soft, Qui-Gon! I would have been climbing the mountainside naked for such insolence!"
"Not completely," the Jedi master corrected him. "You would have been wearing both packs as well." He fixed his current apprentice with a very penetrating look.
"Ah…I regret my bold words?" Obi-Wan ventured.
"Too late, Padawan. I think you and Zee should continue on to the summit together. Feemor and I will catch up with you later. Be sure to have supper waiting for us when we arrive."
The second half of the climb was far worse. The mountainside rose in sheer cliffs punctuated by the slimmest of cracks and crevices, and slicked with mosses and lichens. It was excruciating work, even with the dubious assistance of their cable launchers. Zee was a naturally talented climber, but his audacity came at the usual cost. Two –thirds of the way up, as the sun was setting behind them, painting the slippery rocks beneath their sore and bleeding fingers with a glowing magenta fire, his overconfidence led to a dangerous slip.
Obi-Wan let go his left handhold and seized the other padawan's leg as he slid past, clawing futilely at the stone wall for purchase. Zee's weight wrenched at his other shoulder, wrapped in precautionary fashion about a cable, and pulled him free of the cliff face. They both traced a lazy half-circle in mid-air an the end of their tether and then slammed back into the unforgiving rock with a yowl and a curse, respectively.
The Force enabled Obi-Wan to heave his companion a half-meter upward, where the Zygerrian Jedi found two precarious handholds – but not enough leverage to continue the ascent.
"Drop the pack."
Zee glared up at him, fur upright in fear and indignation. "Our supplies! We need them!"
"You need your skin more." Obi-Wan growled. The younger boy's fingers closed about his ankle, seeking a lifeline. The Force was turgid with emotion – shame and embarrassment foremost among them. He softened his tone. "It's my decision – I'm senior and I'm telling you to drop it! I'll take responsibility."
Master Ossus' student still hesitated.
"Blast it, we're both going to fall!"
"All right, all right," Zee mewled, ears flattened and lips curling back over sharp teeth. He struggled and shrugged, and the heavy load of survival equipment plummeted downward into the mists. They could not hear its impact.
But the sacrifice was worth the gain, for without the restricting burden, Zee was more than agile enough to scramble to safety. "Thank you," he panted, over one shoulder. "I …I am sorry."
"Just keep going." They could settle rights and wrongs when they were both safely at the summit rendezvous. Though it was going to be difficult to obey their masters' injunction to have supper waiting; the young Zygerrian had been carrying most the foodstuff.
They made it to the top just as sunlight failed and the night's damp closed down upon the looming peaks like a smothering fist. The two padawans lay prostrate upon the uneven plateau at the mountain's summit, catching their breath and cataloging their bruises and cuts.
Zee seemd overwhelmed, so Obi-Wan took charge. "Look," he said. "We need a light."
"Was in my pack," the younger boy moaned.
"Then activate your 'saber."
The other padawan cringed. "Don't have one," he confessed. "I – this is actually my first time out of Temple." His head tucked itself between his knees after this announcement. "I'm not as ready as I thought."
Oh. Well, nine was a bit young, even by non-human standards, wasn't it? But that certainly changed things. "It's all right. Master Ossus will still be pleased with your progress – we made it to the top, didn't we? Look – here's my 'saber. Hold it up so I can see the medkit."
Zee wordlessly cooperated, and Obi-Wan tended their minor injuries. His pack contained one thermal shelter, two sleeping packets, a water purifier kit and two rumpled cloaks – his and Qui-Gon's. He gave the smaller one to his companion, for now that the heat of exertion had worn away, they felt the night air as a knifing chill, a ravenous mouth gnawing at their flesh.
"Keep holding that. I'll get the shelter up. And then we should collect some wood for a fire." Though there was nothing up here but the cantankerous sky and themselves. Lightning flashed overhead, momentarily out-shining the 'sabers' blade.
"So, so how long have you been a padawan?" Zee asked. "A lot of years, I guess."
"Not that many."
"Master Ossus was curious about you," the Zygerrian confided in him. "I was worried – I thought this was some kind of test. A comparison."
"Oh, it's a test, believe me." Obi-Wan cast a wry glance heavenward, where the storm lay in ambush. He exhaled on a controlled breath. "But I'm not the standard. I'm sure your master just wondered whether …well, whether Master Qui-Gon has gone soft in his old age."
Zee's teeth made another brief appearance. "I can't believe you got away with that comment earlier. That was hilarious."
"It was stupid," Obi-Wan told him. "I'll pay for it later." Which was likely enough true. He should have watched himself more carefully – wasn't he supposed to be a good example to his inexperienced comrade? "No – not like that," he hastily assured the other padawan. "I don't mind. It's – well, it's… complicated."
They crawled inside the shelter together. Without the saber's light, they were sealed in a friendly darkness. But the small space soon warmed with their body heat and eased the ache in their throats and lungs. They sat cross-legged and waited.
"They're coming," Zee whispered.
It was true – they could feel the other Jedi slowly but steadily approach, making their painstaking way up the cliff in complete darkness. But the Force carried not an iota of concern or trepidation within its currents – the masters apparently were making a pleasant social occasion of the demanding physical exercise. "Yes, and we haven't any dinner to offer when they get here," Obi-Wan quipped.
"Will you get in trouble for that too?" the younger member of the party inquired.
"Oh yes." A tiny invisible grin wasted upon its audience.
Zee Minou hugged himself and shivered, the Force tautening with his simmering anxiety.
Nine years old was far too young to be apprenticed, Zygerrian or not. Obi-Wan unrolled the sleeping packs. "It's dangerously cold. We should conserve energy – lie down close to me."
The simple comfort this provided his new acquaintance was expressed as a deep, thrumming purr. Obi-Wan pulled his nervous young friend close and snugged down into his own heat-packet. If the drone of Zee's contentment and the exhaustion of the climb conspired to lull them both to sleep within minutes, there was none to take notice or to remark upon it.
At least, not until Feemor Ossus and Qui-Gon Jinn arrived a half hour later, and exchanged an amused smile at the spectacle of two Jedi padawans curled up like a pair of fluffy hanadak cubs.
(To be continued)