Chapter 2 - The Dominoes Fall
Obi-Wan had an uneventful morning, if one discounted the time travel. Adjusting to his eleven-year-old body wasn't so hard; at least, not for normal activities. He was small for his age. He had hit his growth spurt late, but luckily this meant he would have time to adjust before having to deal with his 'Oafy-Wan' state. He didn't go to the dojos to see how badly he needed to relearn the extensive muscle memory he had once had.
Quin watched him carefully through their routine, but Obi-Wan gave no sign of being upset.
Because he wasn't, not with the Force a pleasant hum in his ear, which he chose to interpret as this meaning this was his life now.
There would be no going back—forward. He would have to age normally to see the people he cared so much for.
Obi-Wan merely had to decipher why now? Why this time period? What could he do as an eleven-year-old?
Fortunately for him, today was an off day, so he had no classes to attend.
"Obi-Wan, what are you going to do today?" Quin asked, fiddling with his napkin on his empty plate.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Archives, I guess?"
"You are the most boring kid," Quin lamented. Then, quieter, he said, "You're going to need to make new friends."
Ah yes, Obi-Wan remembered. He and Quin had been inseparable despite how different they both were. It was only after Quin moved out that he had grown close with Bant and the others. Sure, they were friendly in classes, but they weren't close enough that any but Quin and Master Ali-Alaan had noted his absence last night.
"I'll be okay, Quin. It's you I'm worried about. You have to promise to be careful."
Quin smirked, flicking his dreads over his shoulder. "I'll be fine."
Master Tholme approached their table. "Are you ready to go, Padawan?"
"Yes, Master," Quin said, reaching down to grab his pack he had brought with him.
"I'll take your tray," Obi-Wan volunteered. "May the Force be with you, Quin, Master Tholme."
Master Tholme inclined his head toward Obi-Wan, and Quin grinned. "You too, dork, cause some trouble, would you? Maybe set some holos on fire?"
"Quin," Master Tholme warned.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.
Quin grinned, unrepentant, waved, and then they were off.
Obi-Wan let out a breath, glad to know he wouldn't have any other friends in this year to lie to. He brought the trays to the kitchen droids before going to the archives.
He was passing through the halls when the Force warned him to stop.
Ducking behind a pillar, Obi-Wan waited, looking for what the Force was trying to tell him. He brought his shields up, slipping into the Force, his Force signature matching that of the pillar and the Temple he pressed himself against.
"Master," Mace's familiar voice said, "when are you going to ask him? From what I understand, Initiate Kenobi's only close friend is Padawan Quinlan Vos. Sooner would be better, as we believe a number of the Initiates in his year are likely to choose the Corps service. It would be a waste if he joined them."
"Time, it is not," Yoda said.
"Plo Koon and Sifo-Dyas have asked about him. Even my Billaba has shown interest," Mace said. "It's cruel to make him wait."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, it was one thing to be told, it was another to hear it.
He sent a silent thank you to the Force.
Master Mace Windu felt a flicker in the Force, but he didn't turn toward it. "Please, Master Yoda, I think you should reconsider. Unless it is your choice to step down from the Council, I do not believe you are the best choice for the boy."
"Know this, you do?" Yoda said with censure.
"It is my opinion. I've spoken with Dooku about this. Both of us became Masters, but neither of us were as gentle a spirit as Kenobi appears to be. I do not believe many children are well-suited to have such a distant Master."
"Distant, I am not," Yoda said in a sharp tone.
"Your duties spread you thin, and though you are no weaker, and certainly no less wise, you are not growing younger."
"Discuss this, we shall not," Yoda said, zooming away on his hover chair.
Mace continued walking, but stopped as he stepped around the corner. He waited half a minute before looking back around the corner.
Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi stood beside a pillar looking off into the distance.
Mace's breath was taken from him as he saw how sad the boy looked. Kenobi shook his head then continued on his way.
How much had he heard? And why had he looked so sad? Had he interpreted their words to mean Yoda didn't want him to be a Padawan?
Worry gnawing on him, Mace vowed to speak to the boy himself soon. He would give Yoda time to cool off, in the hopes his old Master would reconsider after he had some time to meditate on the matter.
Obi-Wan found himself researching the Mandalore system.
Galidraan was years from happening, and Mandalore proper still had fertile land. Obi-Wan's heart ached for them. He looked for things he could do to help. Perhaps something to help the Jedi from fumbling Galidraan so terribly.
Unfortunately, Mandalore's history wasn't exactly easy to work through, the clans were too numerous to understand, beyond the True Mandalorians, whom Satine's father and Jango Fett had been members of, and Death Watch, Vizla's terrorists.
The True Mandalorians weren't half bad, but unlike Clone Troopers, they weren't well-organized and there were too many individuals constantly breaking from the greater goal of unification to satisfy blood debts or simply pick fights with the wrong people.
When the information was beginning to give him a headache, he switched to freshening up on the language. Stewjon, as it turned out, spoke the same dialect that he had learned on Mandalore and that his troopers used.
His afternoon passed with flashcards, and when that grew tiresome, he switched to watching a holo-drama that he knew Cody, Waxer, and Boil would have adored.
"Mandalorians would gut you and skin you alive, little youngling," a malignant voice whispered in his ear.
Obi-Wan jumped out of his seat, spinning on the boy who smirked down at him with malice.
Xanatos.
Obi-Wan's heart galloped and he reached for a saber he didn't have.
He was a few months away from making his own.
Xanatos chuckled at Obi-Wan's aborted motion.
"What do you want?" Obi-Wan demanded, telling himself that Xanatos hadn't fallen yet, he didn't need to be afraid of this boy.
But Xanatos had snuck up on him, and he knew the boy wasn't safe.
"I was just researching a mission of mine," Xanatos said, his smile was nasty. "What were you doing, youngling, dreaming of adventures?"
How had Qui-Gon missed this side of the boy? Xanatos had only been silver-tongued when he wanted something. To anyone lesser, he was a bully.
Obi-Wan had never met Xanatos before he left the Order, but Quin had told him stories.
Xanatos took another step toward him and Obi-Wan felt frightfully small. He reached for the Force and gasped at the darkness he felt spilling from the boy. Xanatos's shields meant nothing to Obi-Wan, the darkness was clear. That Force swirled oddly around them, it was telling Obi-Wan to be afraid.
To be very afraid.
Obi-Wan felt sick. He hadn't let himself be this open with the Force for years, and in the body of a child with the skills of a Master, the Force seemed so incredibly present.
Obi-Wan continued to retreat, his fear mounting with every backward step. Xanatos followed him as if he was a predatory animal intent on playing with the food he hunted.
Master Qui-Gon Jinn was approaching the archives when he felt a disturbance in the Force.
He had been planning on assisting Xanatos. Even with his Padawan so close to being knighted, Qui-Gon had found that it was best to always double-check Xanatos's research. This mission, in particular, was a test for his apprentice. The Council had disagreed with Qui-Gon that Xanatos was ready for knighting, and Yoda had assigned them to a crisis that sprang from Xanatos's homeworld. Qui-Gon was cautious, but not overly concerned.
However, as a wave of fear hit him from the Force, he found himself running.
A small being turned a corner from one of the study alcoves. Qui-Gon knelt, opening his arms to the child whose fear rang like a bell in the Force.
The boy was so scared he was running blind.
Qui-Gon let out a soft grunt as he caught the boy. Something in the Force resonated within him, like this boy wasn't only special, but special to him.
The Living Force was entwined around them. The boy, a nine-year-old human, perhaps a bit older, buried his face against his chest. Qui-Gon let the child curl against his robes as he reached for his saber. He didn't ignite it, but he held out at the ready, sending reassurance to the boy through the Force.
The boy stilled, his body tensed, but as Qui-Gon's thoughts brushed against the boy's shields, which were far more substantial than any he'd ever encountered in a child, the shields softened at his touch, opening a crack, as if welcoming an old friend.
That reaction was startling in its depth. However, Qui-Gon was distracted by the child's pursuer rounding the corner.
His own Padawan with a truly ugly expression on his face until it changed in milliseconds upon seeing Qui-Gon kneeling, guarding the child.
It was a pretty recovery, but Qui-Gon wasn't fooled by the false worry on his Padawan's handsome face.
Qui-Gon threw his own senses out wide, allowing all his shields to drop, every barrier down, including the ones between him and his Padawan that provided them both privacy.
Xanatos could not hide behind his pleasantries, and he saw what Mace and his brother-apprentice, Rael Averross, had been trying to tell him for years.
Xanatos was not worthy of becoming a Knight. There was too much darkness, too much pride, and too much desire to triumph over others.
Qui-Gon slammed his shields down with such force that he felt the Padawan-Master bond break on impact.
It hurt.
But it was necessary.
The boy in his arms whimpered.
Xanatos staggered, and with a tug on the Force, his saber came to Qui-Gon's hand before Xanatos could make a grab for it.
Master Jocasta Nu emerged from deep in the archives, her own lightsaber in hand. A moment later, two of the Temple Guard entered from the main doors, drawn, no doubt, by the extreme emotions. Fighting or sparring of any kind were forbidden in the archives.
"Master, please," Xanatos began, realizing how much trouble he was in. "I was just—"
"Silence," Qui-Gon commanded, more angry with himself than Xanatos for being so blind to this.
No, not blind. He had known Xanatos's faults and made exception after exception for him. But tormenting an initiate, a youngling? No, Qui-Gon could not stomach it nor abide it. This was the last straw.
The boy in his arms was trembling. He hooked the sabers on his belt, being sure to extend his shield to the weapons to ensure Xanatos didn't attempt anything rash by taking them back.
"It's all right, little one," Qui-Gon reassured, rubbing the boy's back. "We aren't going to let anyone hurt you." He gave a meaningful look to the Temple Guards who bracketed Xanatos.
"Master," Xanatos pleaded, more desperate still. "I didn't do anything! I swear it! I swear on the Force, on my life, I did nothing!"
"Enough," Qui-Gon said shortly, annoyed at Xanatos's last statement, valuing himself more than the Force. "Guard, I trust him to your care until the Council can weigh in on the matter."
"I didn't do an—"
"Quiet," Jocasta snapped. "Disturbing the peace of these archives is reason enough for a Council hearing."
With that, the Guard directed Xanatos out.
The boy pulled back from Qui-Gon, still clearly shaken, but he peeked up at Qui-Gon before stealing a glance at the retreating Guard, his eyes widening at the sight.
The Temple Guard rarely made themselves known, though they were more present than any youngling understood. In fact, if one was looking for the Temple Guard, they tended to congregate around the younglings, initiates, and Padawans.
The training that all young Jedi received created a temptation to try their skills in the real world. Many attempted to explore the surrounding city.
But the city was far from safe, and very foolish sentient trackers wouldn't pass up an opportunity to snatch an errant youngling.
The boy swallowed hard, before saying bravely, "Master Jinn, he didn't do anything to me. He's not lying."
Qui-Gon softened his shields, reaching out to the child again, whose shoulders eased at the gesture, his fear melting away. "You seem to know my name, but what is yours, young Initiate?"
Blue-grey eyes blinked up at him before he said, accent completely Coursanti, telling Qui-Gon he had arrived at the Temple younger than most, "Initiate Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master."
Qui-Gon Jinn smiled softly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Obi-Wan. But you don't need to cover for anyone. No one can help if they don't know of problems when they occur."
Obi-Wan shook his head a bit stubbornly. "He didn't, though. I just… He felt wrong in the Force and it scared me."
Qui-Gon felt earnestness in those words, and it stung a little that someone young could pick up on what he hadn't for years. "Yes, he's my Padawan, I'm afraid. It is a lesson that the people we love and care for aren't always equipped to handle the challenges the galaxy has to offer them."
A determined look came over Obi-Wan's face, and he placed a hand over Qui-Gon's heart. "It's not your fault. Unless he's stupid, he knows better than to surrender to greed and malice. He isn't a kid."
Qui-Gon's chest gave another sharp twinge. He was still hurting from cutting the bond between him and Xanatos. Still, this child's simple wisdom, so freely given, was truly humbling. Obi-Wan sparkled like the brightest star in the sky, and with the Living Force dancing about them, Qui-Gon let himself take those words to heart.
Xanatos's actions and choices were his own, and Qui-Gon had tried his best to give him a chance to fulfill his dream of becoming a Jedi Knight.
The Force gave such a surge of approval that Qui-Gon nearly staggered.
He shook his head. The Force was so rarely this explicit; or, perhaps, even a Master of the Living Force needed to be a bit more attentive to hear what was being said.
Another surge almost made him laugh as the Force approved of his thoughts.
Humbling, indeed.
Qui-Gon brushed his fingers over the boy's cheek. "I thank you, Initiate Kenobi, for your wisdom."
Obi-Wan blinked at him, as if shocked by that response.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "We all have much to learn, and sometimes the greatest wisdom can be imparted by our young." He stood, holding his hand out to the child. "Come, let me escort you to dinner."
Obi-Wan hesitated only for half a moment before taking his hand. The Force sang through him.
Qui-Gon couldn't deny that he was comforted by Obi-Wan, the pain in his heart eased by the connection he felt with the youngling who asked for nothing but offered much.
Mace watched the videos on repeat with the rest of the Council, Qui-Gon and Jocasta Nu. They were all feeling grateful that nothing tragic had happened.
It was regrettable that there were no easy options.
Xanatos had contacted his birth father, and his father had convinced him to betray the Order. They had faked a tragedy and planned on using Qui-Gon to eliminate their political enemies, who were rebelling against the greed and tyranny of Xanatos's father.
It was a crime, even as a conspiracy, that was punishable by death. There were no easy options for such a powerful Force sensitive flirting with the Dark Side, but the boy's final fate would be decided without Qui-Gon. That was what he was tasked to come to terms with.
"What is he afraid of?" Billaba asked as they rewatched the video of Xanatos's interaction with young Obi-Wan.
"He said he sensed the Darkness inside of Xanatos," Qui-Gon said with not nearly the amount of self-loathing Mace had been anticipating.
"Sensitive to the Force, he is," Yoda said, sounding pleased.
Mace held back a sigh and asked, "What was he studying? He missed second meal."
Jocasta Nu said, "Mandalore, its history, its languages, and I think he has a knack for the latter, because he was practicing flashcards that demonstrated an advanced vocabulary."
"Those weren't flashcards in the recording," Ki-Adi Mundi noted skeptically.
No one asked why Obi-Wan was studying Mandalore. Not only had the system been in the news often, but the stories of Mandalorians often sparked curiosity.
"He was watching a Mandalorian holo-drama," Jocasta Nu said. "In the original language, without subtitles." She sounded pleased. Obi-Wan, apparently, was one of her favourites because he often came to her for further material on the subjects he learned in class. All of Obi-Wan's teachers believed he was a born ambassador.
He was hard-working and had an endless curiosity about other cultures, including their own. Obi-Wan had been one of the youngest Padawans to grasp the Code and the fundamentals of their own philosophies about the Cosmic Force. It wasn't challenging to understand why so many Masters—Yoda, in particular—wanted to train him.
"I think this is enough for tonight," Mace said. "His fate shall be decided tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said.
Mace put a hand on his shoulder. "Not everything is under our control, and none of us know what the future holds."
Qui-Gon sighed, dragging his hand down his face.
Billaba offered, "You should speak with Feemor, he's back between missions."
Feemor was a Seeker, he was away from the temple more often than not, and his next mission would take him to the Mandalorian sector, where he would have to be undercover for months.
Though Mandalorians would deny it, sometimes Force-sensitive children came to harm.
In the more agriculturally-dependent plants and moons, villagers would sometimes kill those children. In the more urban areas, well, there were enough bounty hunters that some of those children disappeared on the black market.
Unfortunately, with the rise of groups like Death Watch, those kidnappings became more common in recent decades. Naturally, on Mandalore, something like a kidnapped child was an immediate blood feud.
No Mandalorian would ever admit that some of the most intense Clan wars began over Force-sensitive children. The Jedi Order had made it an unofficial policy to offer refuge to those children. It meant worse relations with the hostile groups, but it was sometimes better for Mandalore to be at odds with the Republic than destroy themselves in endless civil wars.
Qui-Gon nodded. "I will."
Obi-Wan had his answer to why he was back in this time, and found himself more than a little amused that the Force would use his inherent cuteness as a youngling against Qui-Gon like that.
However, Qui-Gon seemed less distraught by Xanatos's betrayal, despite how the entire experience seemed to have been traumatizing. Obi-Wan had even seen him hanging out with a blond knight: a Jedi Seeker named Feemor, who Obi-Wan learned was Qui-Gon's first apprentice. Apparently, Feemor's first Master had died in the line of duty, so Qui-Gon had seen him through to Knighthood. Obi-Wan found it odd that he never heard of him, but Seekers didn't actually stay at the Temple much.
Obi-Wan was glad that Qui-Gon had a support system this time. He had even spotted Dooku and Rael Aveross over the next two weeks.
During that time, Obi-Wan buried himself in his studies. His topics of research? Mandalore, the Trade Federation, the Senate, and Naboo.
Senator Palpatine had lost his entire family in a tragic accident almost twenty years early, and the Trade Federation had gained a seat in the Senate, speaking toward the corruption of the Republic.
Kamino, funnily enough, could be found in the archives, and with a bit of tinkering with some systems and some droids he had listed the help of, information was consistently updated on different servers.
Whoever tried erasing Kamino from their records would have some issues this time around. If the droids were attentive, Obi-Wan might even have early warning if someone in the Republic was funnelling money to the cloners.
Time seemed to move quickly, and he was sure Master Ali-Alann was worried about him because he had been pulling back from his crechemates.
Someone swatted Obi-Wan's head, or they tried to. After Xanatos had snuck up on him, Obi-Wan had been more than a little twitchy, so he dropped low, sticking his leg out as he spun toward his attacker.
The result?
Bruck Chun ended up falling as Obi-Wan swept his feet out from underneath him.
Obi-Wan flushed a bit of his over reaction. "Sorry!" he babbled, darting away.
"Coward!" Bruck called after him.
Such a comment didn't get a rise out of him. Obi-Wan was too small for his advanced knowledge of katas and Mastery of Soresu to help him. But he was the best in the class at self-correction and had more focus than any of his classmates, his failures never discouraging him.
It had been noticeable enough that Bruck and Siri Tachi had become resentful toward him. His constant studying put him at odds with Bant and Garen, who at this age played more than Obi-Wan was willing to.
Not wanting to deal with the initiates, Obi-Wan headed toward the Master quarters, thinking he might check in on Qui-Gon.
However, before he reached Qui-Gon's, he saw Master Tholme.
Brightening, Obi-Wan quickened his step and called, "Master Tholme! You're back."
Master Tholme turned to him with wary eyes.
Worry seized Obi-Wan's heart. "Is Quin okay?"
Master Tholme hesitated.
"Is he with the healers?" Obi-Wan pressed.
The Master sighed. "No, young Kenobi, Quinlan is fine; physically, at any rate."
"Can I see him?"
Tholme looked at him for a long moment before nodding, indicating the rooms he had just exited.
Without further preamble, Obi-Wan entered the suit, going directly to the room he knew was Quin's.
Last time, Obi-Wan had respected Quin's privacy. This time, however, he needed a friend as much as Quin did.
Obi-Wan knocked on the door before hitting the open switch.
Quin was rubbing away tears. "Master—Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan ran toward him, touching Quin's knee where he had them folded on the bed. "Quin? How bad was it?"
Quin looked at him, his eyes still wet, tear tracks still cutting across the golden band that crossed over his cheeks and nose.
Obi-Wan reached up to Quin's cheek and offered the only comfort he could offer, "You're not alone."
Quin snagged Obi-Wan into a hug, and Obi-Wan held him as he dissolved into sobs.
Quin never shared what had happened, but Obi-Wan didn't need to know to stay with him. Quin cried himself to sleep and Obi-Wan helped get the larger boy under the covers.
When morning came, Obi-Wan snuck out early, and because he had woken before Master Tholme, he went down to the kitchens for three trays, bringing them back to the suite just like he had for Qui-Gon so many years again.
Master Tholme woke as Obi-Wan was finishing steeping the tea. He offered him a small smile. "Thank you, initiate, you will make a Master proud one day."
Obi-Wan beamed, and beamed brighter still as Quin emerged out of his room, muttering to himself about the brightness of the sunny apartment.
"Initiate Kenobi satisfied your morning duties, Padawan Vos," Tholme teased gently.
Quin raised his gaze to see the breakfast Obi-Wan brought and the steaming tea. He scowled at Obi-Wan. "Show off."
Obi-Wan smiled at him innocently. "I was just trying to be helpful."
"Bantha shit. You're just trying to move in," Quin accused.
"Quinlan!" Tholme warned.
But Obi-Wan laughed, grateful for this time the Force avoided him before the galaxy drowned in Darkness.
AN: Thoughts? Wanted events? Feedback? Pretty please?