Chapter 5
Obi-Wan emerged from his quarters early the next morning, his body still sore. The living room was quiet, the morning light casting a warm glow. The boy set two cups of steaming tea on the worn kitchen counter. Taking one for himself, he moved to the window, looking out onto the breathtaking view of the cityscape. His sensitive hearing and shielding picked up his master, the elder taking the remaining cup and moving to stand beside his padawan. Obi-Wan inhaled shakily.
"Good morning, Padawan."
"Hello, master," Obi-Wan breathed softly, his gaze still held by the many ships that flew by the window.
Qui-Gon paused, glancing down upon his student. Obi-Wan's skin was flushed, his hair tousled from a recent shower. The boy wore a loose brown-crimson tunic the color of dried blood, one Qui-Gon had not seen before.
The student waited, waited for something, some words of the accident, some words of compassion for being blamed/something/.
And the master knew he should say something, but the words would not come. Instead, he sent a soft breath through the all but dormant bond, and was rebuked with Obi-Wans hard shielding. Qui-Gon frowned.
"Your shielding is impeccable, my padawan."
Obi-Wan's eyes shut, perhaps to hide the vagrant tear that threatened escape. He nodded once, and finally accepted that his master did not wish to apologize. After all… Qui-Gon was a jedi master. They are /never/ wrong. Obi-Wan couldn't help but shake his head, his teeth gritting in emotion. He calmed, letting the cool chill he'd come to rely on steel his emotions, and turned to face the elder.
"You will be coming to the saber trials today, master?" Obi-Wan asked coolly, his sea green eyes hooded and narrow.
"Of course. However, I am not so sure you are ready to participate-"
"Oh COME master," the boy seethed in quiet growing anger and hurt, "You saw what I am capable of. I wish to participate. I am well. My… wound is healed. Today is a day all padawans look forward to –" he stopped short, eyes lowering. "Perhaps I'll even make you proud."
Qui-Gon watched a myriad of emotions claim the younger boy's face, mostly hurt. Force… his padawan was still very upset over the last few days events. Well, that was understandable. However, the pride that crept into Obi-Wans voice bothered him, much too much like his previous padawan… Qui-Gon paused, and then placed a still hand on his padawan's shoulder.
"I am sure you will, Obi-Wan. Your skill level with a lightsaber is very formidable. I wish I could take credit, but you seem to have a natural affinity not seen in this temple for many a year," the master said, squeezing the shoulder he grasped, but looking away, his eyes lost in thought.
Obi-Wan felt the tears threaten their presence again, but this time in a new emotion. He bowed his head again.
"I am always proud of you padawan. Never forget."
Obi-Wan raised his face, and shocked his master with the sudden wetness that dampened the boy's face.
"As proud as you are of Kinah?"
The master paused, his breath taken, "What?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Thank you for your kind words master, I will keep them with me. Forgive my leave, I must get to the lockers to prepare for today." And with a flurry of movement, Obi-Wan wiped his face with his long sleeve and sped past the confused master. Qui-Gon turned to stop the boy, but he was left with the swish of the entrance door closing.
The elder master stared after him, mouth open.
The locker rooms were connected by a narrow hallway to the training gym and open courts, and the rooms were bouncing with excited voices. Kinah and Bruck charged forward, through the mass of students into the left locker rooms.
"So. Do you have it?" Kinah chirped quickly, hauling her brother to the other side of the commotion.
"Yeah, and I had to pay a pretty penny for it too. This had better work," he fumed, digging through his oversized robes and eventually withdrawing a small vial. Kinah grabbed it, holding the clear fluid before her face.
"Ok," She hissed, "Rub it on."
"Right here?"
"In the locker rooms you dolt! Smear it on after you shower, but don't be obvious about it! And when you're done, give the rest to me!" She grinned.
"I do hope Obi-Wan enjoys our… new perfume."
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan was already out of the shower, and dressing. He wore again the darker robes, and was sitting on a bench slipping his boots on when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Obi…" Bant said softly as she sat beside him. "I have been looking for you! I wanted to visit you yesterday but you were in your quarters and I didn't feel like dealing with your weird master," she grinned, nudging him softly with her shoulder. Her smile faded when the boy did not return the gesture or even really respond. She sighed, looking downward.
"I read that you are first seeded for the tournament, Obi. I'm really proud of you. My master says that no one has been so dedicated to the arts in years. I know you'll do great."
Obi-Wan let a weak smile come, and placed a hand on his friends. "Thank you, Bant. I hope I can make you proud of me. Aren't you dueling?"
"No… I don't want to make a fool of myself. Kinah made it perfectly clear that if I tried, she'd make a fool of me," Bant growled with disgust. "I can't /stand/ that girl."
"Then maybe you should just leave the temple now, little fishy," a low voice hissed from behind. The pair turned to see the blond, her blue eyes flashing. "Because as long as I'm here, I will not be bested." Her eyes moved to Obi-Wan. "Some people will learn this today." With a flip of her hair, the young girl stalked off.
"What was that about?"
Obi-Wan shook his head wearily and stood, grasping his lightsaber tightly. "I don't know, but I'm sure we'll find out. I'll talk to you after the sessions, Bant."
The young padawan watched the boy walk stiffly out of the locker room. Bant frowned sadly.
The masters were seated outside the main dueling circle, talking quietly amongst themselves when Obi-Wan entered the main gym. A quiet confidence stole over him – this was his element now. To him, the practice of the lightsaber was a very personal thing, it was what he chose to do on his own when his master was "busy", it was what he strove to achieve when he felt like he had nothing worth achieving.
Those who were to participate in the trials stood nervously behind the large red line that marked the outcircle. Obi-Wan went to them, making sure to keep as far away from Bruck and Kinah as possible. Fortunately, the two didn't make any move towards him either. Obi-Wan stretched his sore muscles and breathed slowly.
Master Windu came forward, standing in the center of the circle. All quieted.
"Welcome to the dueling tournament. This annual event is meant to test your skills and show your progress. I remind every contestant that these duels are for skill purpose only – and that your saber levels must be on low stun. I wish you all the best of luck. First up – fourth-seeded Kinah against Padawan Siefa Knull." With that, Windu left the circle and all the remaining padwans sat cross-legged upon the floor.
Kinah hissed like a cat, her eyes narrowing as she flipped out her purple lightsaber. Padawan Knull was a younger boy, only 12 years old. Kinah was on the offensive, and after only a few strikes of blade to blade, she had bested the young boy. Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at Bant. The young girl scowled at Kinah.
Duel after duel, the masters would clap appreciatively to the victor as the padawans were weeded out. Obi-Wan was granted only two brief duels because of his high status: He defeated a sixteen year old boy and a seventeen year old girl in under four minutes each. He could feel the heat of Kinah and Bruck's gaze on his back, but he didn't care.
He sat again, his eyes closed, calming himself. He reached out to the force, bending it, feeling it, wrapping himself in it. The force responded, blanketing the young padawan. Obi-Wans eyes snapped open when he heard his name –
"Next match: Padawan Bruck verses Obi-Wan."
A tremor flickered in the force, and Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. He stood, walking slowly towards the circle. Bruck stood facing him, this thick neck twitching as he cracked it, the sound audible as the chamber grew quiet. Every padawan knew the rivalry between these two students.
Qui-Gon sighed, and watched the ridged form of his student enter the ring. His padawan had shown incredible skill thus far.
"Indeed, he has," Yoda murmured beside him. "Many years, it has been, many years since a student studied so hard. Not since Ki-"
"I know," Qui-Gon cut the elder off, looking straight ahead. "I am very proud of my padawan's achievements."
"Many hours, you must have spent with him in the training gym, hhhhmm?" Yoda said, raising a wrinkled eyebrow.
Qui-Gon said nothing, looking away.
Before them, Obi-Wan ignited his blade and stood at a ready stance. Bruck sneered, also activating his lightsaber. Bruck moved forward, spinning his blade. Obi-Wan stepped backwards and sideways, his eyes steeled.
The meaty padawan charged Obi-Wan, who sidestepped and slid around, blade fully extended at Bruck in a sign of challenge. Bruck whirled, seething, and knocked the outreached blade with his own, thrusting at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan parried, swallowing fiercely, his throat suddenly dry. Bruck advanced, his blade suddenly blurring before Obi-Wans eyes. In fact, most of everything became increasingly blurry.
In evasion, Obi-Wan pulled the force to him, drew it to him, and let if flow. He felt it charge his body, felt it coil through him like a spring, and with this energy, he let it go…
Qui-Gon frowned as he watched his padawan falter, the boy stepping backwards instead of parrying. He was about to turn to the smaller master beside him when he watched in disbelief as his padawan flew high into the air, flipping gracefully over his sweaty opponent. That level of Kata was years beyond the 14 year old boy…
Obi-Wan landed gracefully, having bought himself a few precious seconds. He coughed, his throat dry and eyes watering. Something was wrong, but he had no idea nor the time to figure out what. He shook his head like a dog, trying to clear his senses, but Bruck was already advancing again with a menacing growl. Obi-Wan had no choice – he let his eyes fall shut and called again to the force. He willed it to fill his senses again, pulled it within his form. Through the force, he opened his eyes… and saw the blurry blue form that was the approaching enemy. Something strange was happening… he was loosing feeling. The feel of cool that he'd maintained these few days grew colder still, and the boy realized he was loosing feeling in his body. He didn't know what was going on… but he realized he had nothing to loose. No reason to worry. He let whatever the force was doing… run its course.
Bruck panted and approached, giddy with pleasure. The cocktail of pheromone oils he'd matched to Obi-Wan's precious few allergies seemed to be working – his opponent seemed ill. But as Bruck moved closer, he paused, a shiver running the length of his spine. Obi-Wan's head was bowed, his eyes shut. Bruck shot a quick glance to his sister who stood eagerly on the sidelines – Her look was clear – finish him! Bruck nodded, and moved forward again. But when Obi-Wan raised his eyes to meet his own, Bruck stopped short, a feeling of panic bubbling in his stomach.
Obi-Wan's eyes were an icy shade of blue, his face totally bathed in sweat. His mouth had dropped open and his eyes watered, the tears mingling with sweat and dripping into the open mouth. Bruck wasn't the most force sensitive padawan in the bucket, but he knew enough that something was not right.
Yoda's eyes slid shut, as did many of the masters. A huge surge in the force emanated from Obi-Wan. They stared forward in disbelief as the young padawan raised his blade high into the air.
And moved forward so fast he was a blur.
Obi-Wan was in limbo. He knew what he wanted – he wanted to defeat Bruck. But all else was seared away in a freezing heat he'd never experienced. His body was on fire, and ice cold. His mind was fogged, but he was aware of every breath, every thought every smell of the room. He was aware he was moving, but not what he was really doing.
The audience stared in awe as Obi-Wan completed a flurry of moves, battering Bruck helpless. Within no more than a few moments, Bruck lay sprawled on the floor, panting, his lightsaber seven feet away. Obi-Wan towered above him, eyes intense, his blade extended above him for a killing blow.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon was before them in an instant, his hand raised to his padawan. All the masters rose as well, coming forward. But Obi-Wan seemed not to notice, his eyes still bearing down upon the whimpering Bruck. Blood had begun to drip down Obi-Wan face, his nose and ears bleeding thick red liquid.
Yoda scurried beside Qui-Gon, "Quick, the bond you must use!"
Qui-Gon tried to access it, but per usual it was dormant. He threw all his energy into making contact with his student, but whatever was happening to the boy was fueling the shields he had up. "I-I cannot-"
And then Obi-Wan brought the blade down to the fallen student. Gasps filled the chamber, but no other shriek was louder than that of Bruck, who's face drained of color. The blade bit inches from his ear, the heat sizzling Bruck's hair and cheek. Obi-Wan's neck was now bloody, his eyes… tearing. But he was looking past Bruck now, past his master, to another master, master Tahl… and the Padawan that cowered behind her.
With a horrifying lack of sound, Obi-Wan was running towards Kinah, blade extended, his eyes nearly glowing blue. Qui-Gon's eyes widened, and he reached out to stop his padawan but was pushed aside with incredible force as the boy ran past. Tahl steeled herself, blind but aware of danger. Kinah screamed as Obi-Wan raised his blade –
And froze.
In his mind, Obi-Wan was thoroughly lost. He could see murky shapes of blue and grey and red, but nothing made sense. The numbness of his body was turning to pain, incredible pain, his blood was boiling-
Obi-Wan was heaving now, his body shaking tremendously. Blood was dribbling out of ears and eyes and nose and mouth, his eyes rolling up in his head. Behind him, Yoda stood, arms outstretched as if holding the boy there. Qui-Gon stood from the ground, racing to his padawan.
Yoda winced, astounded at the force that the boy wielded, and grunted as Obi-Wan moved again, towards Kinah. She screamed, racing into the approaching Qui-Gons arms. Qui-Gon caught her in surprise, and looked up to see Obi-Wan faulted, his eyebrows frowning over the disconcerting white of his eyes –
Suddenly, the world returned to Obi-Wan. Screaming agony ripped through his veins as the numbness vanished, and his sight returned for but a moment. The last thing he saw was the sight of his master holding Kinah before he collapsed into a bloody heap on the ground.