Chapter: Six: The Choice
Ch. Summary: Obi-Wan proves something to the Jedi and the Force proves something to him.
Word traveled fast around the camp. The news that the fiery little not-Jedi that their Mand'alor had already practically adopted was going to fight the stern faced Jedi Master's arrogant padawan was exciting. At least for the Mando'ade it was. The Jedi had mixed reactions to this development.
Some of them felt this was an inappropriate waste of time, some of them were interested to see how a washed out initiate would measure up against a senior padawan, and some still were just curious by how eager the Mandalorians were to witness the spectacle.
Jaster for his part was a little nervous that this would indeed be a short fight. He'd only known Obi-Wan for a few days, but it was long enough to know that the boy was strong and smart and perfectly capable of taking care of himself. If he was skilled enough to hold his own against a mostly trained Jedi student, however, Jaster didn't know. And everything moved too quickly for him to ask the boy himself.
They'd moved to the designated training and sparring area the Mandalorians had cleared for their own uses. The Jedi and the Mando'ade were all gathered on the edges of the space in a loose circle. Obi-Wan and Komari were standing on opposite sides staring each other down with serious, tense expressions. Dooku stood in between them looking sternly from one teen to the other.
"Are your lightsabers set to sparring intensity?"
Both teens nodded.
"Very well," Dooku nodded satisfied and stepped back. "The duel will end at first yield. You may begin when ready." He moved to stand next to the Mand'alor and turned to watch the tense stand off.
Jaster flicked his eyes between Obi-Wan and the padawan a little nervously. He nearly jumped when both kids drew their sabers from their belts. They ignited their sabers, both glowing clear blue.
Komari twirled her saber and settled into an aggressive stance. Obi-Wan kept his held down at his side. There was a long moment of held breath waiting for one of them to make the first move.
In the blink of an eye, Obi-Wan drew his blaster with his left hand and shot from the hip. The girl deflected every one of his shots but by the startled then enraged look on her face the move had thrown her.
"That's kriffing cheating! Jedi don't use blasters!" she snarled as she twirled her saber and lunged at him.
Obi-Wan met her attack, blocking and parrying with quick footwork. He gritted his teeth under the strength of her blows. "I'm not a Jedi," he shot back and promptly kicked her in the gut.
Their sabers disengaged as she was shoved back by the force of the hit, a grunt escaping her. The space didn't last longer than a breath before she was on him again, face creased furiously. Obi-Wan met every one of her attacks again, but it was obvious that though he was holding his own he was not as practiced or familiar with the forms they were using.
To the eyes of the Jedi they could see that Obi-Wan was mainly sticking to Shii Cho, the first Form and the one they taught all their younglings from the Creche on. His use of the form showed no signs of deterioration indicating he'd spent his time away at least diligently practicing. But he was still younger, shorter, and weaker than Padawan Vosa who was a senior padawan and was battering away at him with Djem So.
What caught their attention was how the younger teen used his seemingly limited knowledge of traditional lightsaber forms. When Shi Cho didn't have an answer for a move Komari used against him, he would switch to Makashi, or even Soresu. He even avoided a devastating blow by employing an Ataru twirl to dodge.
Obi-Wan missed a step in a sequence he was less familiar with and Komari handed a sharp, breath exploding fist to his sternum.
He flew backward and landed on the ground hard. The spectators closest got a look at his wide-eyed gasp for breath just before he flipped himself over and rolled away from the padawan's powerful downward swing. Her saber scorched the ground right where his chest had been, but Obi-Wan was too busy trying to catch his breath and keep away from her blade to notice.
On his feet once more, Obi-Wan's face was smeared with dirt, sweat dotting his upper lip despite the chilly temperature of the outdoors. He drew his blaster again and got off three shots before Komari wrenched it from his hand with the Force and flung it far away. Cursing in Sriluurian, Obi-Wan just got his saber up in time to save himself from a dislocated shoulder, catching the other teen's blade with his.
Unfortunately he wasn't able to counter the dizzying flurry of attacks she followed it up with and his saber went flying. It disappeared into the crowd watchers as well.
Komari grinned fiercely at him the burning tip of her blade an inch away from his throat. "Yield!"
Baring his teeth at her, Obi-Wan shoved out at her with the Force sending her skidding backward. It wasn't much but it was enough for him to grab the opportunity for a strategic retreat. He spun on his heel, took a running leap and landed light as a bird on the sturdy ridge support pole of the barracks tent nearby. There was a frustrated shriek below him and Komari was leaping and landing not ten feet behind him.
Obi-Wan took off running. Along the top of the barracks tent he raced using the Force to keep his weight from impacting the tent's structural integrity. The last thing he needed to the entire thing collapsing under him. He could feel in the Force and through the vibrations under his feet that Komari was hot on his tail. There wasn't much time before she would catch him, he knew as he leaped from one tent to the next.
He needed to find his lightsaber if he wanted a chance to at least hold his own against her much less win. There was a glint of blue and red painted armor in the corner of his eye and he darted a quick glance to confirm. He had an idea.
Heart pounding with the fight and the chase, Obi-Wan abruptly leaped off the side of the tent toward the center of the crowd that was following after them trying to keep up with the fight. There were shouts of alarm and bodies throwing themselves out of the assumed trajectory of his fall. One particular Mando'ad wasn't fast enough however.
Obi-Wan landed with perhaps more force than he intended on Myles's shoulders for a startling moment. Almost as soon as he'd landed he was in the air again, back flipping off his perch. He'd used the Force to lighten his weight so he wouldn't hurt Myles, but the conflicting shifts in physics still put the young man off balance enough that he gave a shout of surprise then a curse as he stumbled and landed on his ass as Obi-Wan's nominal weight left his shoulders as quickly as it had appeared.
His unstable impromptu spring board being what it was, Obi-Wan landed in a roll absorbing the impact. He ended the tumble crouched on his feet, newly acquired weapons at the ready. He'd ended up back where he'd started, in the sparring area. Komari landed hard and furious and annoyed in front of him.
She eyed the batons he'd snagged off Myles with disdain. "You think you still have a chance with those little sticks?" she sneered. "Even low powered my saber will melt right through them."
Obi-Wan kept his expression firm and determined. He flicked his wrists sharply, the batons expanded another foot and a half in length. Then he thumbed the ignition buttons and they lit up with arcing, crackling white electricity.
The look of surprise and outrage on her face made him grin sharply. "Shall we test that?"
Snarling again she lunged and he met her attack head on.
Having stumbled back to his feet, Myles shoved his way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Jaster's little stray ignite his batons then meet the angry teenage Jedi's attack with seeming ease.
"What the kriff!" He gaped at the lightning quick fight that had resumed between the two Force-users. "Where the hell did you find this kid, Jaster?"
Jaster who'd been watching the fight with varying levels of shock, pride, and concern couldn't take his eyes off the scene in front of him. He answered absently, "I caught him cheating at sabacc."
Myles snorted and darted his eyes at his Mand'alor incredulously. There was a clamor of exclamation from the crowd and he jerked his attention back to the fight.
Obi-Wan met Komari's saber with one baton, the electrified shaft negating the energy of the lightsaber's plasma blade, and hit her in the ribs with the other. She grunted and jolted, her blade unlocking from the baton with a jerk.
She attacked again. He deflected with one baton and jabbed her in the sternum with the other. Shoving him back with a Force push, Komari tried to gain some space, but Obi-Wan just pushed off the dirt and sprang back at her. She blocked one baton, but got another hit and shock to the belly with the other. Obi-Wan, sensing that the way to keep the upper hand was to keep attacking no matter how many hits she got in on him, didn't stop even when Komari bashed in him face with the hilt of her saber or kneed him in the gut.
He came back at her gasping for breath but scored a head snapping strike across her face with one baton and a hit across her shoulder with the other. It seemed like they would go on indefinitely until one or the other or both of them dropped from exhaustion and injury. That is until Komari caught one baton with her blade and threw a kick up between his legs. Alarmed, Obi-Wan acted on instinct and jumped back belatedly bringing the other baton down toward her leg.
Komari was faster and in a twisting display of her master's Makashi disarmed him of one of his batons. He had just enough time to turn to the side and dodge out of the way of another downward swing of her saber. The burning blade missed him by a hair's breadth, but he shoved forward with his shoulder, hitting her in the chest. She released a gust of air with the impact then grunted as he elbowed her in the chin knocking her head back. Stunned by the hit she couldn't reacted in time to stop him when he grabbed her saber hand with his free hand and twisted her wrist.
Her lightsaber hit the ground and Obi-Wan gave her arm another twist to immobilize her as much as possible as he brought his remaining baton rushing toward her throat.
There was an intake of breath around the crowd when he stopped the attack a centimeter away from her neck, the electricity buzzing angrily against her skin.
Komari flicker her eyes from the arm holding the baton at her throat to the younger, shorter teen's fierce glare. Obi-Wan held the scene for a long moment as he panted for air.
"Yield," he ordered calmly if slightly out of breath.
There was a long moment of silence where fury flashed through the girl's eyes and he was sure she'd try to continue, then she scowled darkly and gritted out through clenched teeth, "I yield."
Stiff muscles releasing tension, Obi-Wan released her hand and pulled the baton away. He took a step away and waited for her to summon her saber back to her hand. Flicking the electricity off on the baton. Obi-Wan raised it up parallel to himself in a salute.
"It was a good fight," he said, sincere if stoic.
Komari returned the salute and nodded jerkily. "Likewise," she offered grudgingly, turning off her saber and clipping it back on her belt.
She stepped away and Obi-Wan summoned Myles's second baton back to his hand. Turning to the crowd he was ready to go looking for the young man to apologize and return the weapons. He didn't get a chance. Myles was in his face before he could take a step.
Grabbing the younger boy by the shoulders, Myles gave the kid an excited shake. "That was the craziest thing I've ever seen! Where did you even learn that!"
Wide-eyed, Obi-Wan gaped at him wordlessly.
"Let Obi-Wan go, Myles. I'm sure he's got some aches from that fight," Jaster called with a fond expression as he stepped up to them, Obi-Wan's missing lightsaber and blaster held in his hands.
Huffing in exasperation, Myles released him, but didn't calm down much. "I had no idea my batons could block a lightsaber! That was awesome! How did you even know that would work much less that I had them to begin with?"
Obi-Wan hurriedly thrust said weapons out to the young man and shrugged. Myles took them back and examined them with new appreciation.
"They're an energy weapon," Obi-Wan explained. "Lightsaber blades are made of plasma which is a type of energy. Electricity or energy based weapons tend to cancel each other out. That's how we can deflect blaster bolts as well." He bit his lip then and continued, "And I watched you sparring with Jango the first day I got here. I saw you use them then."
Myles just shook his head at the little not-Jedi. "You're crazy you know that, kid."
Grimacing, Obi-Wan reached up and swiped a hand through his disheveled hair nervously. "I'm sorry for jumping on you by the way. I didn't mean to knock you over, but I kind of needed to move quickly."
Throwing his head back, Myles laughed and clapped Obi-Wan on the back. "Don't sweat it. I'm not even mad. At least Jango's not here to rag on me about it."
The young man wandered off still chuckling to join some of the other Mando'ade who were twittering and exclaiming over the fight as well.
Jaster shook his head at his son's friend and looked back at Obi-Wan. He held out the boy's weapons and gave him a proud smile. "That was some impressive fighting, Tracyn'ika. Though I get the feeling a lot of that was not taught by the temple instructors."
Obi-Wan blushed at the praise as he took his weapons back, holstering the blaster and clipping the lightsaber to his belt. Before he could respond to Jaster though, Master Dooku's voice cut in.
"It was indeed not something we teach our younglings." The stern master stepped up to them with an impressed and considering look on his face. Komari was hovering behind him with an unhappy frown, her jaw clenched. "Where did you learn to fight like that?"
Obi-Wan straightened at the master's appearance. "While I was staying with the pirates the crewmen would spar with me if I asked. They'd also teach me things if they had the time."
Jaster looked dubious at that. "Hondo's men taught you to fight like that?"
Releasing a chuckle, Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, nothing so solid as that. They did teach me how to search my environment for a weapon if I lost mine. I learned to use a blaster from them too. Hondo's second in command liked to fight with knives. He started teaching me how to fight double handed before we came to Galidraan."
Raising an eyebrow, Dooku asked, "Are you interested in learning jar'kai?" The dual wielding lightsaber technique.
Considering that, Obi-Wan then shrugged. "I've never really felt drawn to dual wielding in particular. I just wanted to learn whatever anyone was willing to teach me. I wanted to keep learning and getting better."
Humming, Master Dooku simply nodded, a calculating gleam still in his gaze as he looked at Obi-Wan. "Despite your unconventional learning atmosphere, you fought well. Let me know what you decide about rejoining the Order." Then he walked off toward the blond knight that was presumably his second in command.
The master and padawan's departure left an awkward silence until Jaster finally broke it.
"Do you know what you want to do, Obi-Wan? About returning to the Jetiise."
Turning his gaze on the older man, Obi-Wan tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "I don't know what I want to do. Part of me really wants to go back and become a Jedi Knight. It's all I've ever worked towards since I was in the Creche. But another part of me also really likes the path I'm on now."
He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand down his face flinching when his palm scraped over his bruised nose and split, bleeding lip. "It's not like I've really had the time to meditate on it either. I just- I just don't know yet."
Jaster was quiet for a moment then grasped his shoulder in a companionable gesture. "You have at least a little time to decide, Obi-Wan. Dooku said he'll be sticking around for a few days and you're not needed in our meetings for the rest of the day."
The Mand'alor tipped his head down so he could meet Obi-Wan's young unsure gaze. "Just remember, Obi-Wan, that you are always welcome with the Haat Mando'ade, with me. I would be very glad if you came back to Manda'yaim with us when we eventually leave this place."
Unbidden a happy smile curved at Obi-Wan's dirt smeared face and a flush of pleasure tinted his freckled cheeks. "Thank you, Jaster. That means a lot to me."
Returning the teen's smile, Jaster gave his shoulder a gentle nudge. "Now, come on, kid. Let's run you by the medic, get your bruises and scrapes looked at then you can go do your communing with the Force or whatever you do."
Huffing in amusement, Obi-Wan let the Mand'alor guide him through the crowd. "It's called meditating."
"That's what I said," Jaster tossed back with humor glinting in his brown eyes.
Unfortunately, Obi-Wan wasn't able to get a chance to meditate until the Jedi had finally retreated back to their ship still parked in the public spaceport in the city. After that it was a quick and spicy late-meal and Obi-Wan was finally left to his own devices.
Normally he'd just meditate wherever he laid his head for the night, but he was in the barracks with twenty-five other Mando'ade. Even asleep, that many unshielded minds in such close proximity weren't conducive to the type of deep meditation he was hoping to achieve. After some scouting, Obi-Wan spotted a cliff a little ways into the treeline on one side of the camp in the direction the Jedi had appeared and eventually disappeared in.
Walking through the Mandalorian camp on silent feet, Obi-Wan stepped into the trees and made his way toward the cliff. With judicious application of the Force, Obi-Wan free climbed all the way to the precarious top. There the moon shown bright and whole and the nocturnal winter creatures calling in the night made a pleasant white-noise.
Settling down in a cross-legged position, Obi-Wan placed his hands palm up on his knees, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sank into the Force.
There he contemplated what he should do next. As far as he saw it he had three valid options. Option one was to accept Master Dooku's offer and return to the temple. He would have to convince the High Council to allow him admittance again. And then he would have to find a master to take him as a padawan or he would be back where he started, assigned to a Corps.
Option two was that he could, at the end of the talks between the Jedi and Mandalorians, go out on his his own and make his way through galaxy alone. That option didn't have much appeal to it. Not only was he still relatively new to the merciless ways of the galaxy, but he was a young redheaded Force-sensitive. It had already been established that just being what he was came with an increased level of danger. While he was confident in his ability to take care of himself for the most part he didn't want to test that out without even a handful of Weequay pirates for backup.
The third option and the one that had the Force feeling oddly tingly was to take Jaster up on his invitation and go with the True Mandalorians when they returned to Mandalore.
It was frustrating that his answer wasn't immediately apparent. He'd thought he finally resigned himself to letting go of his ambition of becoming a Jedi Knight. That he was still tempted by the chance to try again showed that he wasn't as satisfied with his new path in life as he thought. Maybe satisfied wasn't the right word, because the journey the Force had sent him down made him feel plenty excited and interested, maybe accepting was a better term.
Had he completely accepted his change in path? Or was the option to return to the temple really such a great temptation?
Guide me, he called into the Force. Please, guide me.
I don't know which I should choose. I don't know which path is right for me.
There was an offer whispered in his ear from the Force. An offer to show him what his choice will make of him.
Obi-Wan grasped at it eagerly. Show me, please. Show me.
He saw himself joining Master Dooku on the Jedi's ship. He saw himself returning to the temple, speaking in front of the High Council. He saw himself weaving a padawan braid into the hair behind his ear. He saw himself on missions, practicing lightsaber forms, attending classes, earning beads and bands of skill and achievement and adding them into his braid. He couldn't see who his master was, but he got the impression there was a distance between them. They weren't cold to each other, but their partnership was more professional and distant than even the Jedi tended to keep such relationships.
Finally he saw himself on a green planet battling a faceless dark-sider. He cut the dark-sider down and was knighted next to a funeral pyre. After that the vision became less clear. Less solid and exact.
He got the impression of a young, infinitely bright presence at his side. A padawan he realized as he felt exasperation and fondness and still yet an emotional distance. Then he felt frustration and fear and tragedy around every corner. He was surrounded by soldiers in white armor that were cut down right in front of him by a never ending sea of soulless enemies.
He had an image of a golden braid severed and laying in his palm. Pride and love burst in his chest, but an undercurrent of fear overlaid everything. Fear and darkness.
It wasn't until then that he noticed that throughout the entire vision darkness had been steadily creeping in, staining and tainting everything around him until it almost blotted out the sun. That's when he felt the staggering pain in his chest. He felt the lights blink out one by one, thousands of them in a moment. The Jedi, he realized in horror. The Jedi were all dying. The white armored soldiers turning on them and cutting them down in the blink of an eye.
That's when he was hit with horror and betrayal and the love he'd felt holding that braid in his hand was twisted and nearly destroyed. The sound of clashing sabers echoed deafeningly in his ears, a pair of burning yellow eyes pierced him with their wrongness. An awful, lethal resolve filled him and he felt hope all but die with scorching heat against his skin and tears on his cheeks.
The vision faded with hatred, pain filled screams ringing through his head and darkness consuming everything in the galaxy.
Obi-Wan's eyes shot open and he panted for breath, nausea roiling in his gut. The Force was still flowing heavily through him and it was impatiently wanting to keep showing him. It hadn't wanted to stop and after that vision Obi-Wan didn't want to continue.
But he'd learned to trust the Force. And he'd asked, hadn't he. He'd asked the Force to show him. Now he had to deal with the consequences of his request.
Reluctantly he let the Force drag him back under, his eyes slipping closed again.
He saw himself following Jaster onto the Mandalorian's ship. He saw himself step onto the white sands of Mandalore. He saw glass and stone and steel. Armored warriors around every corner and the feel of many different weapons in his hands.
He saw himself sparring with Jango, rivalry and companionship in equal measure. He felt the heavy comforting weight of Jaster's hand on his shoulder. There was the echo of Mando'a in his ears as familiar to him as Basic. There was the weight of armor across his shoulders and chest, covering his forearms and hands, on his shins, his thighs, and even sometimes the darkness of a helmet and the information heavy afterimage of a heads-up-display before his eyes.
Interspersed through all of that there were ancient texts and holocrons and flashes of various temple ruins on many different planets. He felt darkness, cold and predatory fill him up one moment then light, warm and calm and merciful take its place the next. He felt frustration and struggle and achievement and ambition.
There was violence too. So much violence. There was blood on his hands and on his blade and he didn't feel nearly as much guilt as he perhaps thought he should. At one point a dark presence, fierce, unyielding, and vicious appeared and walked at his side for a time.
Then it got cloudy. He was anxious and angry and searching. Searching for someone he loved. That much he could tell, but that was all he knew until he saw the white armored soldiers again. There was an image of Jaster on a throne with a lightsaber in his hand, its blade dark and glinting like the knight sky. There was the unmistakable feel of Coruscant beneath his feet. A building that looked like the Senate Rotunda looming large before him, darkness seeping from its windows like a miasma to consume the galaxy. Only the Jedi stood to hold it back, but there also were the Mando'ade. Together yet separately they held back the tide, not necessarily allies but not enemies either.
That's when he felt them. A small, delicate, petal soft hand grasping one of his. A large palm rough with callouses and hard training pressed into his other hand. There was the scent of Naboo orchids and desert sunshine intertwining and wrapping him up in tenderness. Whispered words in two different voices brushed his ears. He couldn't understand them, but he felt the warmth and love they evoked filling his chest.
The last thing the Force showed him before releasing its hold was himself. Standing firm and unyielding, clad in armor with a lightsaber ignited in his hand facing off against a massive tidal wave of darkness. The Jedi and the Mandalorians standing fierce at his sides.
Then his eyes opened and all he saw was the starry sky and the full moon of Galidraan.
Obi-Wan sucked in slow measured breaths and tried to steady himself as the Force slowly dissipated around him. He hadn't risen from the meditation the proper way and the shaky, light-headedness he was feeling now was a result. Though the Force had given him such vivid visions in response to his seemingly simple and inconsequential question, it had also made them opaque and indistinct now that he was no longer floating in the currents of the universe.
He couldn't recall a specific image or event from them now, but he could recall the emotions. The emotions still sat heavy and immovable in his gut. That alone told him all he needed to know.
"Alright," he breathed into the quiet night. "Alright. I understand." He ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I know which path I should take, now."
And truthfully it was the path he wanted to take. There was something about stepping into the unknown that appealed to him. And you couldn't get more unknown to a temple raised teen than Mandalore.
Making the climb slower and more cautiously down the cliff, Obi-Wan stumbled his way back to camp. He nodded to the Mandalorian on watch as he passed, quickly entered the barracks tent, and collapsed onto his cot, exhausted. Too exhausted for a simple meditation session, but Obi-Wan wasn't thinking about that at the moment. He was too busy falling immediately into a near dead sleep, lingering echos of his vision floating through his mind.
When he wakes in the morning he'll remember nothing of dreaming about the feel of gentle lips on his or the chilling touch of the Dark side.
TBC...