A sense of serenity inhabited the Jedi Temple, although it was only surface level. A deeper sense of fear and arrogance leached onto the order under the surface, pulling the strings like puppet masters. Each stone lifted burdened the carrier, whether they knew it or not.
In a semicircle, younglings all took turns lifting exactly that - a stone. Under the tutelage of Grandmaster Yoda, they each rattled and then telekinetically hoisted it up. That was, until the end of the semicircle was reached, indicating that it was the notorious Obi-wan's turn.
In a sudden motion, he closed shut his wandering eyes, attempting to focus on the stone. It turned from one side to the other slowly, and disappointingly, for minutes on end. The young Obi-wan's face was invaded by sweat, and his heart felt as though it would burst out of his chest. The audible laughter of his peers didn't help.
"Enough, that is," Yoda interrupted. Some children receded deeper into their laughter, but Yoda grimaced at them, expelling any thoughts that Jedi could have senses of humor.
Obi noticed none of this, as he was staring at his own hands, which were within the depths of his crossed legs. His mind drifted to fantasies of the safety within his chambers, but in truth any place but there would've been fine. Even without looking, he could feel the scrutiny of his peers, but most importantly, the most powerful Jedi in the entire order.
Obi wondered if Yoda hated him, this useless kid, unable to lift a single rock, but his mental court case was interrupted by another of Yoda's lectures. Something about how pure power didn't matter, Obi was sure. How his failure also apparently didn't matter. Well, it did, he thought. He would fail his trials, and be reassigned to the service corps, forever tormented by his own incompetence.
"The jedi code, you must remember:"
"There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the force."
Obi heard the other younglings get up, their light brown boots softly whispering on the white pavement, and Kenobi followed. They entered the hallway, Yoda watching thoughtfully from the garden, and turned right towards the library. Obi-wan, apathetic towards his already ruined reputation, turned the opposite way. This hadn't been the first time he had failed so badly. In fact, this happened almost every day.
Kenobi had accepted his fate at a young age. His potential with the force barely warranted his recruitment to the jedi order, and he was doomed to failure since his induction. Scratching the top of his head, a stone ceiling constantly loomed over him, limited his future. It was a certainty for him that it would never be broken, sure as the sun would rise in the morning. His life was a constant sunset, the final tendrils of light waiting to be extinguished, enveloped by the dark of night.
A bump made said tendrils stand at attention, forcing Obi-wan to look up for the first time that day. There, standing tauntingly upon the ceiling above his head, stood the head of an adult Jedi. He was perhaps in his mid thirties, with the trenches of experienced wrinkles already being dug. His long, flowing brown hair, both from jaw and scalp, framed grey-blue eyes. Kenobi recognised him to be Qui-gon Jinn, a - controversially - newly appointed High Council member.
Obi-wan had seen the master around once in a blue moon. Each time, they would greet each other dutifully, if awkwardly, and Jinn would smile sadly at the youngling. Every tooth shone with a drop of poison, Kenobi thought. Jinn didn't care, he was just being nice.
Tired of duty, Obi-wan attempted to skip the greeting today, trying to weave past Jinn. However, a calloused hand prevented his escape.
"Hello, Young Obi-wan," He said wistfully, but with a kind tone.
Kenobi's gaze was firmly affixed on the floor. He bumped into Jinn's arm forcefully, but it wouldn't budge.
Qui-gon's eyebrows scrunched up, "What's the hurry?" realization spread across the master's face, "At this time, someone of your age should be studying in the library. Are you lost?"
"Why does it matter to you?" Kenobi spit suddenly, tired of Jinn's intervention. Isolation was what his internal doctor ordered.
"The future of the galaxy," Jinn responded seriously.
Obi-wan felt an itch at the back of his mind, a whisper that begged for attention, but he ignored it. He stood still, hoping to tune the master out like he did Yoda.
Jinn continued on, crouching to one knee and looking at the Youngling, "You, as a force sensitive, have a duty to fulfill towards the galaxy. You're gripped by a responsibility, deeper than words, that…" Jinn paused, breaking his eyes away from the youngling, "...is deeper than any of us. Than me, or even Grandmaster Yoda," Jinn closed his eyes for a moment, "To forgo this responsibility, for whatever reason, is a disservice to the galaxy," then Jinn opened his eyes once more, and they, for once in twelve years, met Obi-wan's.
Kenobi wasn't sure why he decided to make eye contact with the master, but something clicked in the back of his head, compelling him to. His mind fell silent, and he watched as Jinn walked past him. Yoda, whom Obi-wan assumed was still in the garden, had watched the entire interaction. His small, green figure leaning forward in keen interest, and his large ears expanding to intercept Master Jinn's words. Obi-wan couldn't help but think Master Jinn was simply playing to the crowd; trying to impress Yoda.
Yes, that was it.
And so, Obi-wan found himself receding back into his 'Sunset Mentality,' and his suffocating inferiority returned. Turning a corner, Jinn and Yoda watched him continue his path of self-destruction.
"Disagree, I do not, but given him false hope, you may have," The green Grandmaster commented.
"What do you mean, Master?" Jinn inquired.
"To any master, listened he has not, regardless of their tact. Be a hard lesson, The Service Corps will be, but a needed one. Turn to the dark side, we will not allow him to," Yoda criticized.
"Perhaps what the other masters lacked is consistency," Jinn retorted.
Yoda looked him up and down grimly, and grinned. "Perhaps, Master Jinn, perhaps."
After passing multiple rooms, including the CQC training area, Obi-wan fell to his bed in a self-induced exhaustion. He wished his brain to shut off, but it ran at full speed nonetheless. He pondered Qui-gon's words, and how disjointed they were when one really broke them down. Responsibilities such as the one Qui-gon espoused were only able to be undertaken by the greatest in the order. How was Obi-wan supposed to help the common man, when he couldn't even help himself? It was a ridiculous proposition, like giving a poor family twelve children and expecting them to survive as normal. Qui-gon, it seemed to Obi-wan, had no idea what he was asking.
Why did the Jedi even induct him, Obi-wan wondered. He was right on the edge of force sensitivity, he was told, barely within the detectable range. It seemed to him a punishment from whatever higher being ordered the galaxy, whether it be the force or something less esoteric, to put him in a place such as the temple. A place with so much talent wasn't the best destination for one as himself, Kenobi thought.
Growing tired of his own thoughts, he willed them away, and simply lay in silence for a time. Despite his long attempt at it, his efforts to fall asleep were futile. Becoming restless, he sat up. Spying a pen on a table across his room, he attempted to grip it with the force. It turned its point towards him, but nothing more, and his face fell to his hands in hopelessness. He groaned.
Growing even more impatient, he stormed out of his room. Pausing for a second, he thought of where he should go. But, it didn't matter, anywhere but there would be good. Walking for what seemed like hours, but was only twenty minutes, he came across this CQC training room once more. Twisted collisions of energy echoed from within, which fascinated Obi-wan for some obscure reason. For all he knew, a master could be practicing their swordsmanship.
Walking up to the door, it automatically opened, sprawling into a loosely packed training area. Multiple sparring mats crowded the middle of the chamber, droids programmed in lightsaber combat in the back, and a closet containing training weapons. Around ten jedi were now training, either with each other, or with a droid. Those who had organic opponents used regular swords, but those who trained with droids made use of their lightsabers.
Kenobi stood in the doorway, scanning the contents of the room. Most of those training he recognised to be padawans or newly promoted knights, the padawans presided over by their masters, but one Jedi stood out. Greying brown hair, as well as a well kept beard, led down to a slim, but athletic body. Uncharacteristic of other jedi, he wore expensive silk robes with elaborate patterns. The jedi elegantly and methodically maneuvered around the droid he sparred with. Obi-wan recognised him as Master Dooku, Qui-gon's former Master. Dooku was famed as one of the 'big three' within the Jedi. This group included him, Mace Windu, and Grandmaster Yoda. The fact that he still had time to train - in such a manner as he was - surprised Obi-wan. Kenobi assumed High Council duties would be both too time consuming and exhausting to allow for such diversions.
Obi-wan realized he was staring, and so, it seemed, had Dooku. With a wave of his hand, the droid engaging him powered down, and he made his way over to the youngling. The Master towered over Obi-wan dauntingly, and the child felt compelled to avert his eyes.
"And who might you be, young one?"
Kenobi was starstruck, as hard as it was to admit to himself.
"O-Obi-wan," he answered.
"Oh, yes….I've heard of you. Well, if I remember correctly, your class will be the next to travel to Illum for the gathering. Would you like to watch me? I'm sure you could learn something. Could prove useful to someone who's about to construct their own lightsaber."
The gathering was a yearly ceremony where younglings between 8-13 years old travelled to Illum, the planet which had the largest Kyber Crystal cave in known space. Kyber crystals were the central component in any lightsaber, and were a universal symbol of the Jedi. As a twelve year old, the gathering starred Kenobi in the face.
"Erm...sure…" Obi murmured.
Dooku led him over to his training mat, sitting Kenobi on the side while he reactivated his lightsaber. Its blue hued blade tapered down into a curved hilt, a fitting weapon for a warrior such as Dooku. With another wave of his hand, a switch within the droid was flipped, and it activated.
The droid itself was an ancient design, although it still worked. It's single eye jutted out of its disk-like head, and its body closely resembled the design of a human skeleton. Its hand held a deactivated vibroblade.
"Admin password required," It echoed in a synthetic voice.
"02-47-12, MDV," Dooku recited.
"Scanning…" The droid's eye lit up, and a wave of blue energy traveled up Dooku for a moment, ending at the tip of his hairline, "Welcome, Master Dooku. What type of training do you wish to engage in?"
Dooku glanced at Kenobi for a moment.
"Level ten free sparring," Dooku ordered with a level of pride uncharacteristic of Jedi. Kenobi sighed mentally. Dooku was the greatest prodigy of his generation, so of course he'd do that. Perhaps Dooku believed he could inspire Obi-wan, but it only served to dig Kenobi deeper in his mental pit.
The Droid began to emit a faint red light out of the obscure areas of its chassis, and it entered a combative stance. With a click of its thumb, the droid's vibroblade activated. The blade vibrated so quickly that it was only a blur.
Dooku himself raised his lightsaber towards the droid, its blue blade contrasting the droid's own red illumination. The droid attempted to slash Dooku's saber away, even preemptively moving forward in anticipation of a charge. However, with an elegant, but powerful, turn of Dooku's wrist, he managed to completely redirect the droid and throw it off balance. Dooku moved for a riposte, but the droid rolled backwards, ending up mere inches from Kenobi.
The droid charged for real once it recovered, unleashing a flurry of blindingly fast blows, which Dooku maneuvered around with an intimidating ease. In the middle of a flurry, Dooku found an opening and thrusted at the droid's chest. The blow deflected off, but the Droid's chassis lights turned green.
"These droids are made of a cortosis weave, which is resistant to lightsaber strikes," Dooku explained to the youngling, "They're expensive, which is why we haven't replaced them since the Cold War."
"Great job, Master Dooku. Do you wish to spar again?" the Droid asked.
Dooku looked once more at Kenobi, moving his eyes up and down analytically.
"No, I would not like to spar, but instead practice basic Shii-cho movements," He said, motioning his sword hand towards Kenobi, hand open and deactivated lightsaber in his palm. "I've heard your potential in the force is...limited, but that's not the only way Jedi can excel." Shii-cho was the most basic, and first, form of lightsaber combat, and it was taught to younglings who just constructed their lightsaber. Dooku probably meant to give Obi-wan a head start.
Obi-wan stared at Dooku's extended hand for a moment. Why would the Jedi Master give Kenobi his lightsaber? Did Dooku simply want to mess with him? Dooku shook his hand.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" the Master asked in his mature voice, "If you don't want to be taught by me, then…" and Dooku began to withdraw his offer, and hand.
"N-no!" Kenobi said, reaching out for the Master's hand. The droid repeated a question in the background, but neither the master nor the youngling cared.
"Good," Dooku said, handing the youngling his lightsaber and kneeling down onto one knee. The weight surprised Kenobi. The lightsaber was a perfectly balanced instrument, feeling like an extension of Obi-wan's own arm. "Now, this button activates the blade," He said, pointing at a button placed directly where the thumb could comfortably rest. "Never point a lightsaber's emitter towards yourself, or an ally, even if it's deactivated."
Kenobi nodded, pressing the button, and the blue blade rushed out of the lightsaber's emitter. Dooku walked around Obi-wan's back, ushering him forward with his hand.
"What level of Shii-cho training would you like, Master?" the droid echoed, just as it had for the past minute.
"Level one," Dooku answered, a focused look on his face. His attention reverted back to Obi-wan, "The droid will instruct you, but the movements it teaches are older than Yoda. I will make some slight adjustments to make your arsenal...more suited to the modern day."
Kenobi nodded thoughtfully. The droid spoke up once more, and its chassis glowed blue.
"Follow my lead, Master. First, we will begin with basic blocking. Try to lock our blades near the middle, and perpendicularly," The droid instructed.
"Don't block perpendicularly. It is best to keep your movements less predictable - more dynamic. The form this droid teaches is for training and ceremony, not for real combat," Dooku argued.
Obi-wan didn't have time to respond, as the droid was already moving its blade slowly towards the youngling. Awkwardly clashing his saber to the droid's, the droid brought its blade back once more and struck at a different angle. Stopping the blade with slightly more fluidity, they repeated the motions for a short while.
"Pause the training," Dooku commanded.
"Yes, master," the droid said, its chassis lights turning gray.
Obi-wan whipped his head around in surprise. Had he done something wrong, he wondered? Dooku's face was blank and difficult to read, but his hand slipped into a hidden pocket in his robes. From within, the Jedi Master pulled a long handkerchief, which he brought up to Obi-wan and tied around his eyes.
"Now that you get the basic movements, try and block the strikes without using your sight," Dooku ordered.
Obi-wan opened his mouth in surprise. His sensory powers in the force weren't exactly impressive, and he knew he would fail any test Dooku put him up to.
"I sense your anxiety. Trust your instincts. Perhaps you'll do better than you think," Dooku observed, patting Obi-wan on the shoulder. "Reinitiate the training, droid," Dooku said after Obi-wan turned back around, slightly off in his orientation.
Obi-wan could hear the droid waving around its vibroblade, and as it slowly propelled the blade towards him. He moved to block with the saber, but felt a mass of metal hit his blade instead. A crude sound, like a single blare of an alarm, rung out of the droid.
"Error, Only strike the vibroblade, master," it said.
"Stretch out with your feelings, Kenobi," Dooku instructed.
The youngling nodded hesitantly.
"Reset," Dooku said, and the droid whirred back into action.
Kenobi tried to stand firm, shifting slightly as to face the droid, although he was still slightly off. Reaching out with the force, he could feel a faint line of energy slowly coming his way, which he barely blocked. It withdrew itself, coming back on Obi-wan's opposite side, and he rushed to block it, doing so in a sudden and stiff manner.
"Breath. Your excited parries merely leave you open and predictable. If this were a duel, the droid would take advantage of that in order to break through your guard. If you wish to survive in any actual sword fight, you would flow from movement to movement thoughtfully, not erratically," Dooku advised.
The honesty in Dooku's voice struck a chord in Obi-wan, and he began to move in a manner similar to the combat droid, with a definite robotic flow in his movements.
"Try and be more fluid. If you become too predictable, your opponent will read you and adjust."
Kenobi did so, matching the droid's strikes in a comfortable manner. He entered a zone he hadn't experienced before, a place between thought and action in which he simply existed. His one job was to block the blows of the droid's vibroblade, and nothing entered his mind besides that. However, this was interrupted by a sudden greeting from a familiar voice.
"Master," It rang.
"Ah, Qui-gon," Dooku replied.
Obi-wan missed a block, and the droid cut him on his cheek. Dooku exhaled sharply in response, waving his hand and deactivating the droid. He walked over to Obi-wan, putting his hand to the wound in order to heal it with the force. Afterwards, he went to reactivate the droid, but Master Jinn interrupted.
"Master...is that Young Kenobi there?" Jinn inquired.
"Why, yes. He showed an interest in my training, so I thought I would instruct him for a time," Dooku answered proudly.
"We aren't supposed to instruct younglings in Shii-cho until they pass The Gathering, Master, you know this," Jinn lectured.
"Well, you saw how well your traditions did before. Look at him! He's taken to the lightsaber. Haven't you, Obi-wan?" Dooku asked.
The youngling nodded nervously in a twitch movement, not sure what was going on due to his blindfolded eyes. He attempted to reach out with the force, but he could merely feel both master's presence. He couldn't get a clear picture.
Jinn continued his verbal assault, "Yes, but we instruct younglings in meditation in order to teach them to control themselves. Only then do they learn swordplay. We don't want padawans to be caught up in the passions of battle."
"I'd say this child needs some way to focus his passions. Besides, it seemed to interest him. All his life, this child has been lectured in the ways of the force. When he found his apparent limit, they continued to lecture him, but never directly told him what he did wrong. His success became reliant on the odds of a dice roll. I'd say, in fighting - and in more direct force training - he could one day become a competent Jedi Master," Dooku retorted.
"Whatever you say. Just don't blame anyone but yourself when you get lectured by Yoda in front of the entire council," Jinn sighed.
"I doubt it'd be any worse than this one," Dooku chuckled.
Qui-gon reluctantly laughed.
"I'm sorry to cut this short, but I came to retrieve you for the meeting. It'll start within the hour, so we should leave at once," Jinn advised.
Dooku nodded, walking up to Obi-wan and retrieving his lightsaber.
"Keep the blindfold. It suits you," He grinned, patting the youngling on the head.
"B-bye," Kenobi stuttered, and the two Jedi Masters departed the training area. The youngling felt...nothing. Perhaps a longing for more instruction, but ultimately nothing. Realizing his previous mood, Obi-wan considered this an improvement, but a part of him rejected the need for one. He wanted to stay the failure, to shelter within the confines of his own standards and hide. But...he didn't. Instead, the world stood cut open, in all of its intimidating unknowability, in front of Obi-wan for the first time in his training,
Master Jinn and Dooku slowly trekked up the levels of the Jedi Temple. It was a common occurrence between the pair, for them to take tranquil walls amongst the ancient halls. Small talk was rare between them, as they both understood they had enough of it outside of their relationship. Only important things were spoken about between them.
"Why did you do it?" Jinn asked suddenly.
"What?"
"Train the boy."
Dooku didn't answer for a minute, letting the silence soak in.
"I suppose...I just think he's a special case. He isn't particularly great with the force, for whatever reason, but if he's treated correctly he might just make it," Dooku explained, "I'd heard of him before. His story...is an unfortunate one."
"Perhaps, but you might just make his fall harder."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Dooku conceded.
The two shared a doubtful glance towards each other, but otherwise returned to their stroll. Soon, they made it to the bottom of the council tower.
Dooku sighed.
"Still not doing well, Master?" Jinn asked.
"Not very. But, with the force, I supposed everything is possible," Dooku mused. His health had been declining recently, and he had begun to rely on the force more and more, but he still made an attempt to maintain an active lifestyle.
Slowly making their way up the steep spiral staircase, they eventually reached the top. The rest of the Council, around thirteen other Jedi, was already within the chamber.
"Here, you are. Then the session, begin it does," Grandmaster Yoda said softly.
All the council members took their seats, and instantly their eyes darted towards Dooku. The Master didn't notice the attention on him instantly, as he had closed his eyes briefly to mentally prepare himself, but he wasn't surprised when he opened them.
"I see how it is," Dooku said, "Serenno, right?"
"Indeed," Mace Windu said. Windu was the only black humanoid in the group, which made him stick out easily. This attribute was only magnified by the zeal in which he spoke, and the authority visible in his posture. Windu was especially zealous at that moment, looking around with a scary focus.
"Want you involved, we do not," Yoda informed Dooku.
"This is important, though. The situation's outcome will reflect upon all Trade Federation conflicts in the future," Dooku reasoned.
"This is personal for you," Windu said.
"Why? I was taken from my family from the age of five. Why would I care about them? The Jedi are my real family."
Windu pointed at Dooku.
"Those robes you wear. They're especially...flamboyant. You take pride in your appearance, involve yourself deeply in politics, and take an interest in your planet...on which you're considered royalty," Windu continued.
"You think I hope to take power?" Dooku interrupted.
"Perhaps," Yoda admitted.
"Look:" Dooku paused, rubbing his hands, "I...am not interested in power. However, are us Jedi not supposed to protect the Galaxy? Why shut ourselves in, being glorified mercenaries for a corrupt system? Why don't we enact our will upon the world?" Dooku argued.
"We do," Windu shrugged.
"Not like we should," Dooku added.
"Watch yourself, Dooku. The path to the Dark Side, this may be for you," Yoda observed.
"Perhaps."
"Keep it in mind, you must."
"As you wish, Master," Dooku sighed.
"I wish to mention something," Jinn interjected.
"Yes, Master Jinn?"
"Dooku was training Young Obi-wan in Shii-cho earlier."
Dooku sighed, alongside the rest of the Council. Of course, their reasons were different. After a moment, multiple Councilors began to speak up at once, but Yoda forced them to take turns. He pointed to Kit Fisto, a master of Shii-cho, and a Nautolan. His friendly smile and long green head tentacles were well known throughout the Jedi order.
"While being the first form we teach, Shii-cho has a certain...aggression to it. It's the most basic, but it purposefully pulls a user into the throes of combat. An understanding of it is required for proficient combat, but we're supposed to teach focus and self control before exposing younglings to it. Obi-wan is far from," Kit Fisto paused and pursed his lips, "...the most mentally stable," he managed to mutter.
Everyone else nodded their heads.
"True, but Obi-wan is far from a normal case. You should've seen him," Dooku turned to Yoda, "You tell me that Obi-wan never focuses? Well, he did today."
The Council fell silent.
"Any more comments on this situation?" Yoda questioned.
"If you want, I can train Obi-wan personally," Dooku added.
Yoda's already large eyes widened, making him look quite ridiculous.
"All in favor?"
Seven hands raised.
"All against?"
Six hands raised.
Dooku was now Obi-wan's defunct master.