Chapter 6
Two days later, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were sparring with metal swords in one of
the gymnasia. There were no light sabers, of course, so they had settled on the
closest alternative to keep their skills up. It had been a somewhat humiliating
experience. The first day, Obi-Wan had tried a particularly difficult move, one
that he had successfully performed countless times in practice and in battle,
but this time he fell flat on his back. He had been moving to the rhythm of the
fight, feeling instead of thinking, and launched himself into the air before
reaching out, as usual, for that extra bit of Force augmentation, only to find
that hollow place within him where the Force should be. It was a feeling that
was becoming all too familiar, that shock of rediscovery of his disjointedness,
his lack of connection to the Force. He had never realized, before, how often
he reached for it, used it like a security blanket, until it was gone. He
wondered if he would always feel the loss so acutely. And how all those
pathetic life-forms who had never known the feel of the Force could stand it.
It didn't help that Cynara seemed to show up whenever he found himself in just
such a compromising position.
But his personal pain was of no consequence. There were more important things
to worry about now. And so he concentrated on learning to fight without
augmentation, on focusing his energies on something he could actually control.
On escape.
Obi-Wan had no desire to spend any longer than necessary in this place of
horrors, but as he was quite aware that he might have but one chance to escape,
he wanted to make it a successful one. So over the past days he had thought,
and planned, and explored, and changed his plans, all in the privacy of his own
mind. And now he was almost ready.
They were going through a series of standard thrusts and parries at something
like half speed as they each relearned how to fight this new way. But now Obi-
Wan went on the attack, showering blows upon his Master furiously. Qui-Gon,
suddenly on the defensive, shot his Padawan a questioning look. Obi-Wan
answered with what he hoped was a significant stare and had to wait a long,
heart-stopping moment before he saw understanding flare in Qui-Gon's eyes. With
a sigh of relief, Obi-Wan added another series of blows, and then launched
himself into the air.
Only to fall, predictably, on his face.
Also predictably, Cynara appeared, laughing.
"Ah, no matter how many times I see it, that never fails to amuse me," she said
gaily, clapping her hands. "I'll wait, if you're planning on doing it again."
Obi-Wan, feigning irritation without much difficulty, picked himself up off the
floor with the help of Qui-Gon's offered hand. Then the two stood looking past
Cynara, making it obvious that they would not fight for her enjoyment.
"Oh, be that way, then," Cynara declared petulantly. "There must be something
interesting going on somewhere else." And she winked out.
"Shall we get something to eat?" Obi-Wan asked as they approached the equipment
bins to put their swords away. Only Obi-Wan instead casually slipped his into
the belt of his tunic, where it was concealed by his robe.
"All right," Qui-Gon went along with whatever his Padawan was planning.
They headed for the kitchens, which were just beside the gymnasium; that was why
Obi-Wan had insisted on that site for their sparring. He had also established a
pattern of regular meals, more out of habit than anything else, and it was now
time for the midday one. While food was made available throughout the complex
at intervals, Obi-Wan seemed to prefer to choose his own time, and to go right
to the kitchens rather than request food be sent to him.
In the kitchen, there were a few other beings milling about. Obi-Wan and Qui-
Gon took their time deciding what to eat. By the time they had started their
meal, the last of the others had headed out the door.
As soon as the coast was clear, Obi-Wan jumped into action.
Two days later, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were sparring with metal swords in one of
the gymnasia. There were no light sabers, of course, so they had settled on the
closest alternative to keep their skills up. It had been a somewhat humiliating
experience. The first day, Obi-Wan had tried a particularly difficult move, one
that he had successfully performed countless times in practice and in battle,
but this time he fell flat on his back. He had been moving to the rhythm of the
fight, feeling instead of thinking, and launched himself into the air before
reaching out, as usual, for that extra bit of Force augmentation, only to find
that hollow place within him where the Force should be. It was a feeling that
was becoming all too familiar, that shock of rediscovery of his disjointedness,
his lack of connection to the Force. He had never realized, before, how often
he reached for it, used it like a security blanket, until it was gone. He
wondered if he would always feel the loss so acutely. And how all those
pathetic life-forms who had never known the feel of the Force could stand it.
It didn't help that Cynara seemed to show up whenever he found himself in just
such a compromising position.
But his personal pain was of no consequence. There were more important things
to worry about now. And so he concentrated on learning to fight without
augmentation, on focusing his energies on something he could actually control.
On escape.
Obi-Wan had no desire to spend any longer than necessary in this place of
horrors, but as he was quite aware that he might have but one chance to escape,
he wanted to make it a successful one. So over the past days he had thought,
and planned, and explored, and changed his plans, all in the privacy of his own
mind. And now he was almost ready.
They were going through a series of standard thrusts and parries at something
like half speed as they each relearned how to fight this new way. But now Obi-
Wan went on the attack, showering blows upon his Master furiously. Qui-Gon,
suddenly on the defensive, shot his Padawan a questioning look. Obi-Wan
answered with what he hoped was a significant stare and had to wait a long,
heart-stopping moment before he saw understanding flare in Qui-Gon's eyes. With
a sigh of relief, Obi-Wan added another series of blows, and then launched
himself into the air.
Only to fall, predictably, on his face.
Also predictably, Cynara appeared, laughing.
"Ah, no matter how many times I see it, that never fails to amuse me," she said
gaily, clapping her hands. "I'll wait, if you're planning on doing it again."
Obi-Wan, feigning irritation without much difficulty, picked himself up off the
floor with the help of Qui-Gon's offered hand. Then the two stood looking past
Cynara, making it obvious that they would not fight for her enjoyment.
"Oh, be that way, then," Cynara declared petulantly. "There must be something
interesting going on somewhere else." And she winked out.
"Shall we get something to eat?" Obi-Wan asked as they approached the equipment
bins to put their swords away. Only Obi-Wan instead casually slipped his into
the belt of his tunic, where it was concealed by his robe.
"All right," Qui-Gon went along with whatever his Padawan was planning.
They headed for the kitchens, which were just beside the gymnasium; that was why
Obi-Wan had insisted on that site for their sparring. He had also established a
pattern of regular meals, more out of habit than anything else, and it was now
time for the midday one. While food was made available throughout the complex
at intervals, Obi-Wan seemed to prefer to choose his own time, and to go right
to the kitchens rather than request food be sent to him.
In the kitchen, there were a few other beings milling about. Obi-Wan and Qui-
Gon took their time deciding what to eat. By the time they had started their
meal, the last of the others had headed out the door.
As soon as the coast was clear, Obi-Wan jumped into action.