Chapter Title: Casualty

Series Title: Turn the Page

POV: Qui-Gon

Chapter Summary: Obi-Wan loses a dear friend.

I found him I'm the Gardens. The meditation he'd been attempting was hollow and restless. Almost painful through our bond. Of course, he knew it was me that approached, though I could feel in his swirling emotions that I'd not been his first visitor.

Cross-legged on the shallow back of the narrow man-made stream is where he'd taken residence. The easy flowing stream crept the entire length of the Jedi Gardens. The water, clear and fresh; the perfect environment for the tiny orange stripped tarsus fish that considered it home.

This place, it was unusual for my apprentice. Rarely did he come here alone. With friends, yes. To watch the fish. To share tales of recent missions. And I was most certain, to share in a bit of gossip as well.

For one of those friends, there would be no future Garden visits. Killed in action only yesterday. A death that had seemed friendly fire at first; a blaster bolt ricocheting off a blue lightsaber blade at precisely the wrong angle.

Obi-Wan's blue blade.

Further investigation showed that an enormous ground-dwelling dragon creature had vibrated the earth at the exact second the enemy commanded it to do so. The implosion of rocky terrain under Obi-Wan's feet coinciding with the deflection of the killing bolt.

Short of seeing the future, there was nothing Obi-Wan could have done to stop the bolt from shooting back at her.

The bolt struck her dead center in the chest. Jedi Apprentice Eshi Kilaw. An almost instant kill. She'd had her saber drawn, but her head had been turned that instant before in an effort to deflect other enemy fire coming from her right.

She fell to the earth. Lifeless.

It was a blur what happened next, but we'd gotten out, the rest of us, alive. We'd returned Padawan Kilaw to the Temple. Her master - Goma A'rl - distraught and grieving into the Force.

That had been Obi-Wan's visitor. Master A'rl. Human in all ways, including temper. Despite evidence to the contrary, she had chosen to hold Obi-Wan responsible for Eshi's death.

Obi-Wan's shoulders rose and fell in slow, methodical rhythm. His breathing long and deep. He was trying so hard to make sense of this last day. A lost friend. An angry Jedi Master. The events of the mission running over and over in his head a thousand times now in his head. Punishing himself.

Yes, I knew my apprentice.

Moments went by when he was the one to break the silence.

"Master. I know you are there behind me. Please stop staring."

Approaching, I sat on the soft green grass, matching his cross-legged pose.

"Padawan. I didn't want to intrude."

"Why not?" He replied in quiet frustration. "Everyone else has."

His bandaged right hand reached up to wipe at his face. Wounds from the battle. Nothing severe, but enough to keep several days of treatment.

I was surprised at his comment though. Others had visited, more than one?

"I know Master A'rl was here." I said to him.

My student shrugged. "Eshi's friends mostly. A few of them. I don't think they blame me, but they're torn. Almost as if they need to find fault somewhere so they can be okay with her death. It was difficult to read them. I didn't say much. They said a lot. Master, and I didn't... I hate this feeling. It wasn't my fault, but maybe it was. Maybe I..."

I could have said more. It would have been pointless. Obi-Wan knew better than to blame himself for where he had no blame. But accidents like this, that second nature to find fault, unless you were a cold-blooded Sith, it would surface and gnaw at it's victim.

Obi-Wan, he would relive this death for a long time; much as I did with Tahl those years ago. Certainly, he will hate himself for a time. There would be that feeling of solidarity, and there will be eyes on him, even when there were not.

Some will judge quickly and harshly. Some will see the facts and truth.

My apprentice would all right in time.

However, none of that helped right now and I set an arm around his shoulders. Without hesitation, he leaned toward me, sighing softly.

"Master."

"I know."

"She was my dear friend. I don't know what to do."

"You grieve for her. You remember her. You honor her."

He nodded and wiped the same bandage hand across his face again.

"How's your hand?"

"Burns some. It's okay. Master A'rl wants me to report to the Council this afternoon. Alone."

That didn't surprise me. But it wasn't going to happen.

"Master A'rl holds no authority over you. You have reported to the Council during our mission debriefing last evening. They will review the evidence again. They know where we are should they need more from us."

"Okay."

He took me at my word. Trusting what I said to be true.

"I want you to go home. Get a hot shower. I'll re-wrap your hand. Then we will meditate. Together."

There came a nod against my shoulder. He'd not argue with me but he didn't take any action to stand either. I glanced over to see that he was watching the tarsus fish that swam effortlessly and peacefully along the winding clear stream.

"They live such simple lives." He said.

"Perhaps. But can we truly say we know their lives?"

"I guess not." A shrug. "Master..."

"Obi-Wan, this isn't a pain that will go away easily. Jedi or not. Meditation will help. Working will help. Normalcy will help. Feel the emotions, you should..."

"Just don't let the emotions consume me." He finished the well worn words that I'd said to him countless times.

"Yes. After Tahl, I shut you out. And I fell, almost lost completely. It's not a place you want to go."

"No, I know. You'll help me though. You'll guide me."

"I will." My arm tugged him tight against me for pause. "Promise."

Another nod, he sniffed into his tunic sleeve. "It's all right if I feel sad for a while."

"It's necessary. You must mourn your friend before you can honor her."

"Sometimes, Master... sometimes I question why you don't follow the Code. Right now, here in this moment, I'm glad that you don't. Thank you for letting me miss my friend."

What could I say to that? Not a thing. And I relaxed my thoughts into the Force.

For as much as Obi-Wan and I bickered over the Jedi Code - his exasperation with me is somewhat legendary - we worked. One of the strongest Jedi teams in the Order, despite our wide berth of differences. And now... now was not a time for those differences. Emotion was a part of being human. Obi-Wan had learned that as long as you do not let those emotions consume you, you should be permitted to feel and experience them. They were a part of life. You had to allow them to be part of your true self.

To move on from loss, there had to be grief.

I offered a gentle smile in his direction. "Let's get you home and settled."

"Yes, Master."

Not that he needed it, but I did help him to his feet and guide him carefully from the Gardens with a hand on his shoulder. Other Jedi passed us by on our way out, on the lift and in the corridors. With a tendril across our bond, I kept Obi-Wan's focus centered. If eyes were watching him - and some were - he need not know. There was enough conflict going on inside his head without worrying on the judgment of other Jedi. If I could do anything for my apprentice, I could do that - I could keep private, his personal time of grieving.

I had been where he stands. Most Jedi have. The sternest among them were back and working almost instantly. Others accepted the loss, collected themselves, pushed everything to the Force and moved forward with fond memories tucked safely away. A few of the more sensitive, they took an extended absence, and I do recall one Jedi that left the Order all together.

We all had the same training, but species mattered, internal constitution mattered. Age, maturity, experience. All those things made a difference in how we dealt with the loss of someone close to us.

Obi-Wan would fall in the middle. He was a boy fond of his friends, but also well aware that what we did was dangerous. There had always been would always be casualties in this way of life. Death was a realistic outcome each time we stepped from the safety of the Temple walls. He knew that, lived it, and he fully expected a day would come when a loss would crush his soul.

But he was strong, my apprentice. So much more so than he knew or could comprehend.

And I'd meant my promise to him. That I'd help guide him through this journey, no matter if it took hours or days. We were a team, he and I. A family. Through life and loss, success and tragedy.

"You always say, Master, that the Force works in mysterious ways. If you're right, then perhaps... perhaps I will see her again one day. Eshi. Long into the future, maybe. Do you think?"

Glancing down at my student as we entered our quarters, I smiled warmly. Indeed, he was already on his way to recovery and perhaps... even a bit more toward my way of thinking.

"Anything is possible with the Force, Padawan. Yes, anything is possible."

—-

...turn the page...