"The reading's off the count. Over twenty thousand…even master Yoda doesn't have a medichlorian count this high." Obi-Wan
"Land near the outskirts. We don't want to attract attention."
Obi-Wan stood next to Qui-Gon, letting the Force flow through him. Emotions were pummeling his still-weak body: starvation, hopelessness, greed, lust…he searched for positive signs, and a few beacons of light stood out, but for the most part, the desert planet was covered with a mask of grey consciousness.
Already Qui-Gon was choosing the landing party. JarJar, who would make things less obvious. He made the humanoids accompanying him look like slave traders or thugs. Obi-Wan, for his instinctive use of the Force, even if he was still suffering from the strange illness. R2-D2, the droid that had saved the ship, was taken to speak to whatever hyperdrive they managed to pick up.
The planet was hot, dry, and the wind whipped sand into Obi-Wan's already parched throat. His eyes, which had been shut most of the trip out of sheer exhaustion, remained that way. He didn't envy his master of his sight now, since the older man would need his eyes to walk across the treacherous terrain. The Force, anxious about Obi-Wan's illness, was guiding him more carefully than ever.
"Master, someone is following us." He stopped and turned around, tilting his head as he paused. Next to him Qui-Gon put his hand on his lightsaber. "That is unnecessary, sir. It is only the captain."
Captain Pinako caught up to them, another, flighty Force signature trailing in his wake. Obi-Wan worked to keep his face neutral, though he didn't know if he accurately pulled off the appearance.
He had learned to dislike and distrust the handmaiden following the captain. She would occasionally switch places with Queen Amadala. You could paint over your face but you couldn't mask your Force signature.
"Her Highness commands you to take her handmaiden with you. She wishes to observe the local…"
Obi-Wan was glad when Qui-Gon waved this request away with one large, hand, "No more commands from her Highness today, Captain. This space port is not going to be pleasant."
Yet not two minutes later they were saddled with this girl, who did not walk quickly or quietly enough. She was small, almost as tiny as Obi-Wan. "My name is Padme." She greeted. Her voice had a lilt to it. She was young, very young.
"I am Obi-Wan." He replied, keeping a dutiful few feet between him and his master but, out of long practice, easily keeping stride. Padme was falling behind.
"Have you always been blind?" Obi-Wan confirmed his dislike of the girl, though tried to explain it away. She was only in her teens.
"Have you always been this impertinent?" He asked, sensing a city up ahead. He threw the Force out, got a reading, knew they were still a fifteen minute walk away. Unwilling to enter into a conversation about his handicap, he fell back further, started walking with JarJar and the droid.
Within seconds Padme had done the same. "Doesn't it interfere with your ability to be a Jedi?"
It wasn't as if Obi-Wan didn't usually get questions like these. He was used to the probing, personal queries of small-minded strangers. "I don't mean to be rude."
"Of course you don't." This was the excuse of the nosy, who knew they were being rude and insisted on doing it anyway. "No, it doesn't interfere with me being a Jedi. I can still fight and fly ships and negotiate treaties. I am good at diplomacy." He paused, letting this sink in. "The Force guides me in all of my actions. It never lets me waver."
"You believe in the Force?"
"I know it exists. That question is like me asking you if you believed in the sky, or in space. It is merely there, not for me to question."
The girl was quiet after that, and Obi-Wan took the moment to once again check the area, throwing his consciousness out in front of him. JarJar had a particularly vibrant Force-signature, though while in Gungan city he'd found it hard to navigate; all of those bodies, their pulsing life-forces so close together, had made him disoriented. Other species did that as well, usually Wookies.
Padme's Force was flighty, dancing, strong and hopeful. She might have been Force-sensitive at one point, though lack of training had not developed the gift. Qui-Gon, as always, was bright, tall, calming. Even little R2 had a signature, almost as if he were alive.
The city was filled with vagabonds, ruffians. Padme pressed close to him, obviously forgetting that he was a mere blind boy. JarJar did indeed deter people that would otherwise stare, though some still did. "Pull up your hood, lady." Qui-Gon ordered, leading them down one alley, then another. Qui-Gon ducked into the small side shop first, Obi-Wan scurrying to hurry in after.
"Peedinkle! Naba dee unko!" The boy who ran in nearly floored Obi-Wan. Master, he spoke, breaching the Knight's defenses. Look. He gave the impression he had of that boy, nearly glowing with the medichlorians running through his bloodstream.
That's interesting. Qui-Gon sent back, still deep in conversation with the Toydarian, though his eyes flicked to the boy. He's too old to fulfill the prophesy.
You're always about the prophesy. Obi-Wan sent back, teasing. He should be trained. He's powerful already. If we leave him here, as a slave, he might turn.
One thing at a time, my very young apprentice. Qui-Gon followed the flapping creature out back to the junk yard and the boy flipped up to the counter, polishing a piece of metal half-heartedly.
"You're a Jedi Knight aren't you?" The small voice was abrupt and Obi-Wan wondered where the boy had learned Basic if he had been living in the slums of Tatooine all his life.
"Why do you ask?" Obi-Wan wondered. He had thought they'd washed away all traces of their identities away. If certain people knew they were Jedi they would not hesitate to use violence, and that was the last thing these poor peasants needed.
The boy pointed to his belt, "Your laser sword. Only Jedi carry that kind of weapon."
Obi-Wan grinned in what he hoped was his direction. The Force was so powerful around him it through off his sense of direction. Like a thousand Gungans put together. "Perhaps I killed a Jedi and stole it from him." He suggested.
"That's impossible. No one can kill a Jedi."
"If only that were true." Obi-Wan murmured, thinking of all his Jedi friends who'd died. Almost a quarter of his graduating class --- they had only numbered twenty-five --- had already been killed in battle. The Galaxy was becoming a more dangerous place for Jedi. The child yelled across the room at JarJar, who was playing with a small robot, "Hey! Hit the nose!"
"Is that other man a Jedi, too?"
"He's my master." Obi-Wan acknowledged, seeing no reason to keep this from the child. He knew that Qui-Gon would attempt to buy the boy's freedom as he had for several other 'Chosen Ones' they had come across.
The boy looked at him, cocking his head. "Are you a slave?"
"No. I am his apprentice. I call him 'master' as a term of respect." Obi-Wan answered easily.
"And you're blind? Doesn't that make you a bad Jedi?"
Obi-Wan sighed, calling on the famous Jedi patience that he supposedly possessed. "Yes, I'm blind. No, it doesn't impede my abilities as a Jedi." He was having de ja vu. Then, only because he was seething --- who was this kid, a child, to question his capacity? "What's your name?" He asked.
"Anakin Skywalker." The boy replied, sealing their fate.
Always thought Anakin would be confused about the master/Padawan relationship, since he was used to the master/slave one.
2 Chapters to go! Please review!