Chapter 11: A Taunting Trial

Obi-Wan curled himself into a ball. Similar in the way he did as a youngling.

After returning to the detention center, his connection to the Force was ripped away from him. His soul was torn and he fell to the cold ground, abandoned by all but his own small voice. He wasted away, slipping further from the light and entering a battleground of fleeting shadows. The whole cell bespoke of instability and desperation. The more time Obi-Wan spent in his confinement, the more he had the urge to scream and scream and scream. To simply let go.

But, even in his darkest moment, he could not burn out. His thoughts burned bright of Anakin. He could not leave that boy alone. Anakin needed him. The galaxy needed him. The Force needed him to stay strong, to keep withstanding the rising darkness that threatened to devour all in its reach. So, he needed to stay strong.

It hurt to be strong. The burden of fate clawed into his shoulder blades, relentless and unforgiving. In his heart, Obi-Wan knew the truth of his own journey. It was inescapable. He was to ensure peace for the galaxy, but he himself would never enjoy peace. That would be his legacy.

Too distracted in trying to not keel over and vomit, he missed the sound of someone entering the detention center. It wasn't until the surrounding wards vanished that Obi-Wan peeked over his shoulder and saw Qui-Gon standing in the doorway.

"Hello," Qui-Gon greeted.

Obi-Wan scrambled to his feet, backing far away until he hit the wall. "W-What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough. "Did you come to gloat?"

Qui-Gon looked hurt. "What do I have to gloat about?" he posed, stepping further into the cell. "Your incarceration? Or the fact you look terrible?"

"I'm sure both would suffice," Obi-Wan snipped as he moved along the side of his cell to the corner. His monitored Qui-Gon's movements, adjusting his own to keep a good distance away. Qui-Gon's tall frame blocked every portion of the door. There was no way in or out with Qui-Gon filling up the space between Obi-Wan's corner and the door.

Qui-Gon tilted his head, his blue eyes examining him from head to toe. Obi-Wan squirmed under Qui-Gon's penetrating gaze. When Qui-Gon took another step closer, Obi-Wan shot up his hand. "Don't come any closer."

Qui-Gon stopped. "You do look terrible," he noted. "Have you seen the healers?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, dejected. "They can't help me. Not done here."

His old master understood. "I see," Qui-Gon said, glancing about the cell with an unsettling distaste. "It is rather unpleasant. I can't imagine residing here for even an hour, let alone two days. How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan scoffed at Qui-Gon's attempt to show any trace of compassion. "What do you care?" he said. "You must be happy. You got everything you wanted. Me—locked away… powerless to stop you and Dooku."

Qui-Gon let out a quiet sigh as he gestured around the cell. "This is not what I wanted. For you or Anakin. You… you were meant to be so much more," he paused, almost like he too was broken inside. "You could've done great things Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's stomach curdled at the thought. Great things. Terrible things. It disgusted him. His legs wobbled as he readjusted his weight. "I don't care," he spluttered. "I don't care about being great!"

"Really? Because I can recall a little boy promising me that he would become a great—"

"I know what I said!" Obi-Wan shouted, effectively silencing Qui-Gon. He can't listen to the man. He cannot listen to stories of his past when it was Jedi Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi. Bringing up those memories hurt him too much. It cut right into his already bleeding heart. "Just stop! Please… please stop."

Qui-Gon gave him an apologetic look. "I don't mean to hurt you."

"Yes you do!" Obi-Wan snapped. "You want me to lose! You want me dead!"

"That's not true."

Obi-Wan flippantly raised his brows. "Oh? Then it wasn't your assassin I met on Tatooine?"

Qui-Gon's composure faltered. A hiss seethed between his teeth as he crossed his arms. He glanced to the doors at the end of the corridor. They were closed. He looked back to Obi-Wan. "She had orders not to harm you."

"Must have missed the memo," Obi-Wan said, snarky. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering the feel of his lightsaber and battling the vengeful woman. She really wanted him dead. "Or given new orders."

Qui-Gon frowned at the suggestion. "Master Dooku doesn't want you dead, Obi-Wan."

"You're quite right," Obi-Wan agreed with a dip of his chin, clutching the side of his head. "He would rather me go insane down here in these Force forsaken cells."

That was where he was heading. His state of mind was parlous adrift between doubt and belief. A shadowy effect that kept him befuddled on where to turn. He was losing grip of reality. He heard Qui-Gon's voice again, but it drowned in the buzz of his psychotic mind.

Force, he felt ill! The worst was there was no end to relief. Standing in Qui-Gon's presence brought a chill that went straight to his bones. The longer he stayed, the more difficult it was for Obi-Wan to keep himself from crashing. The cold spread from his bones, infecting his lungs. His lungs seized, pressured to the point he couldn't breathe. A vile thing rose up, searing its way through his body until he could no longer restrain the madness.

Obi-Wan tipped over and spewed.

He had no idea how long he stood or how much he vomited. Before he collapsed in his sickness, Qui-Gon strode across the cell and wrapped an arm around his waist. Obi-Wan resisted the support, but his head was so heavy with fog that his resistance was futile. Qui-Gon easily led Obi-Wan to the cot, setting him down as he used the ends of his sleeve to wipe Obi-Wan's mouth clean.

"Breathe, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon instructed. "You're fine. You're only panicking."

It didn't feel like panic. His soul was being extinguished by the lack of the Force. He was withering away hundreds of stories below.

Qui-Gon tipped Obi-Wan's head back to the light, clinically observing his face. Two callous fingers were pressed against his neck. "I'm going to call for a healer," he told Obi-Wan. "Then make a request to move you into a different holding cell."

Obi-Wan brushed Qui-Gon's fingers away from him. "Leave me alone," he mumbled. "I have no more energy to talk in circles. I did it once today and found it tedious."

Qui-Gon sighed and squatted down in front of Obi-Wan. He pushed back loose strands of Obi-Wan's hair and held his head, thumbs right by his ears. Obi-Wan pulled, but Qui-Gon held firm. "There is so much more you can do, Obi-Wan," he persevered, keeping Obi-Wan's eyes on him. "You're a talented young man. Someone destined!" Obi-Wan thought he saw a slither of yellow streaming into Qui-Gon's blue colored eyes. Qui-Gon didn't even notice. "You and Anakin have a far greater destiny than all of us."

Destiny. Obi-Wan never cared for destinies. Who decided their fates for them? It was an unfair and cruel slavery to have one's fate already written. Obi-Wan erased his and chose to write his on the run.

However, Qui-Gon was a firm believer in prophecies despite his motto of focusing on the present moment. He was assertive when he spoke of Obi-Wan and Anakin that it made Obi-Wan feel more like a pawn in Qui-Gon's arsenal to write the galaxy's future history. Obi-Wan wanted no part in it. He never did.

Obi-Wan pulled his head again and finally, Qui-Gon released him. Qui-Gon stood, rising to his full height, his dark shadow casting over Obi-Wan. "One day, you'll understand and not shy away from it," he confided. "Until then, stay strong. Keep focus. And trust in the Force. It'll guide you on your correct path."

His head was still fogged up and boggled. Limbs too weak that he couldn't even make any form of protest other than the words the slipped off his tongue. "You're not my master."

That didn't deter Qui-Gon. The tall man smiled fondly at Obi-Wan. "That may be true for now," he agreed, "but you'll always be my padawan."

The sound of a door opening followed by heavy booted footsteps drew Obi-Wan's attention away from Qui-Gon to the corridor. Master Sifo-Dyas appeared, followed by his small squad of Temple Guards. Sifo-Dyas didn't seem at all surprised by Qui-Gon's appearance. "Ah… Qui-Gon," he addressed the fake Jedi Master. "Mace said you might be down here. I'm sorry to cut this reunion short, but Obi-Wan is needed."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I understand," he said and he backed away from Obi-Wan to head out of the cell. "Though, I would like to make a formal complaint. As you can see, Obi-Wan isn't feeling well."

Master Sifo-Dyas flickered from Obi-Wan to the vomit on the floor. "Yes. That can happen when one stays here for too long."

"Then remove him from this confinement!" Qui-Gon argued. "If you keep him here any longer, he'll rot to death."

"You're concerns are noted," Master Sifo-Dyas told him. "I'll have a healer examine him, but Obi-Wan will remain here. Per the orders of the Council. Until those orders change, he will not be removed."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows lowered into a line of stark authority. "I'll speak with the Council. Get them to ease up on such archaic treatment."

"I wish you the very best, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon looked to Obi-Wan with resonated hope and gave a good squeeze on his shoulder. "Remember what I said, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked away, wishing for him to leave. Qui-Gon did, the quick of his feet fleeting in the silence before the hissing of the door ended it. Qui-Gon was gone and Obi-Wan released a pent up breath, his body feeling loose and aggravated all at once. Master Sifo-Dyas ordered him to rise up and Obi-Wan tried, but the Temple Guards had to assist him. They dragged him to the Jedi Shadow.

"You know," Master Sifo-Dyas said as he snapped on the Force-nulling binders around Obi-Wan's wrist once again, "for condemning him as a Sith, Qui-Gon takes the greatest pains to help you."

Obi-Wan stared at the binders, turning his wrist over as he resigned. "That's unfortunate."

Anakin had his feet planted firmly apart as he stood directly in the middle of the circled assemblage of stoic Jedi. He eyed them all suspiciously, contemplating different scenarios in his head on how to escape from the room. None of them were plausible; then again, he and Obi-Wan have performed extraordinary feats before. Standing alone on the mosaic tiles, he felt vulnerable and exposed. No one said a word upon his arrival. No attempts were made to make him feel welcome and he was uncertain of how this meeting was going to go.

Straight ahead, Anakin recognized the two individuals he met at the hangar: Master Windu and Master Yoda. Master Windu was stone-faced. No expression or gentleness that Obi-Wan held when he looked at him. Master Windu was rigid and cold in his posture. A man of ultimate control. Master Yoda sat at ease. Focused, but not in the same intensity as the others. He looked upon Anakin as the boy he was. Not a threat or a tainted person like in the others' gazes. Master Yoda looked pleasantly impressed.

Anakin didn't understand why. He never met Master Yoda and in his first meeting, he attacked them. It seemed Master Windu didn't forget that. "Will you be needing Force binders or will you cooperate with this interview?"

Anakin shook his head. "I'll be good."

Master Windu nodded. "As protocol, we will need to state your name for the record," he said. "Please state your name."

"Um… am I on trial or something?"

"You are not on trial," Master Windu assured him. "We are conducting an interview to understand what happened in the past few years."

Anakin narrowed his eyes at Master Windu, studying the words. "You mean you want to know if Obi-Wan has done something wrong."

"Young Skywalker, we only wish to collaborate stories," came the words from a man with a very tall head, "and to get a better understanding of you as well."

Anakin shifted his feet, putting extra weight on the other. He nervously scanned their faces, reading as much as he could from their expressions. It was hard to tell what the truth was behind those masks. They kept their wants a secret behind those pressed mouths and Anakin never felt so small and unsure of himself. He wished Obi-Wan was beside him. He would feel a lot safer if he was there with him.

"Now that is settled," stated Master Windu, "Please state your name."

Anakin took a deep breath. "My name is Anakin Skywalker."

"Anakin—how long have you lived with Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Anakin had to think. "Seven years. Maybe eight now?"

There a few confirmed murmurs that suggested Anakin was right in his math. The creature with a breathing mask spoke next. "How would you describe your life with Kenobi?" he asked in a muffled rumble. "Give us a daily routine."

"Why?"

That rattled the Council's nerves. Never, Anakin suspected, had anyone ever dared to defy the Council's inquiries. Well, maybe except Obi-Wan. He noticed how many of the Councilors looked exasperated, some looking at him like the behavior was expected. But Master Windu's face tightened to the point his vein bulged out from his neck.

"I thought you said you were willing to cooperate with us?" Master Windu reminded him.

Anakin shuffled a little under Master Windu's dagger-like gaze, but he returned the stare. He wasn't afraid of a challenge. Especially when it involved prying into his and Obi-Wan's private life. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he threw out in hopes of distracting them.

That gave the Council another jolt of surprise. A woman with dark skin and a kind face spoke. "We're not strangers, young one," she said. "We're the Jedi Council. We mean you no harm. Our mission in life is to ensure peace and prosperity to the Republic."

"Then why do you need to know about Obi-Wan and I?"

"Because young Kenobi has broken his oath," answered a man with a very long head. "We hope you could help clarify a few things for us to decide if Kenobi is a threat or not."

Anakin was appalled. "Obi-Wan is not a threat!"

The dark skinned woman smiled. "We would like to accept your word, but we must look at all the possibilities before coming to a conclusion," she said. "Now—are you willing to answer our questions?"

Anakin rocked his head side-to-side in thought. He cared nothing for their beliefs or opinions. Anakin knew Obi-Wan better than anyone else in the room. Obi-Wan wasn't a monster like they make him out to be. He was a good person, who was troubled by his past and future.

His declaration wasn't going to help Obi-Wan. Only answering the questions would help get Obi-Wan release. "If I answer, will I get to see Obi-Wan? Could we leave?"

The Councilors all shifted their gaze from him to Master Windu and Master Yoda. Master Windu eventually bowed his head to look to Master Yoda for guidance. Master Yoda, claw-hands resting on top of some stick, stared sympathetically. "See him, you will. Answer questions first, you must."

That was all Anakin needed to hear. He was going to see Obi-Wan again.

"Now that's cleared," Master Windu began again. "Explain your daily routine."

"Well… that depends," said Anakin.

A deep crease formed between Master Windu's brows. "On what?"

"What's happening that day," Anakin clarified. "Are we going to run into an enemy? Are we in-between homes? Planets?"

Another murmur circled him, but it sounded graver than the first. Master Windu answered his question. "A routine where there's no traveling or fighting. You wake up in a house."

"Oh," Anakin said, thinking. They never really had a routine. It changed a lot depending on the situation. But, Anakin gave his best shot. "I usually wake up later than Obi-Wan. When I wake up, breakfast is made so I eat. After that, I tinker on projects of mine. Then we do our runs and I guess afterwards, Obi-Wan has me doing lessons. Once we're done with those I practice meditating or I do chores. Then Obi-Wan has me do other lessons. We have dinner next and after that we just do whatever. Usually something fun. Then I go to bed."

He noticed right away how a few of the Jedi Council members narrowed on certain words. They picked at it, mulling it over their heads to form it into another question.

"Young Skywalker," said the dark-skinned woman on the opposite side. "You said Obi-Wan has you doing lessons. What type of lessons?"

"Oh, um… like math, languages, geography, government… those type of lessons."

"School lessons," she said, smiling, and Anakin nodded in agreement.

Another Councilor, a strange looking man who's face was hidden by shagging white hair. "Did he ever teach you about the Force?"

Anakin hesitated in answering. He wasn't sure if Obi-Wan would want him talking about his training. His hand instinctively reached out next to him, but all he felt was air. Obi-Wan wasn't with him.

The Council noticed his reluctance. Master Windu leaned over in his mighty chair. "It is important you do not lie to the Council, Anakin," he warned. "It will only lead you and Obi-Wan to trouble."

Anakin didn't want that. He sighed in surrender. "I've had lessons on the Force. Obi-Wan taught me."

"What did he teach you about the Force?" inquired a short, long-eared man.

"Things," Anakin said, vague in his response. "Like how to move or block objects with the Force."

"He's taught you how to fight."

"Yes… NO!" Anakin quickly corrected after he saw the frowns forming on the Council's faces. "Not to fight, but to defend. He wanted me to learn how to defend myself and others if a time comes when I needed to. That's all."

There were some flickering doubts casting around the circle and Anakin had a terrible feeling that he helped dig Obi-Wan's grave. "Obi-Wan is a good teacher," he continued in hopes to make up his fault. "He's patient and understanding. He has high expectations, but he doesn't get mad when I don't make it right away." Anakin paused to think of some more positive things about Obi-Wan. "He's wise. He knows a lot about everything. If he doesn't, he'll spend hours researching and then explain it to me the next day. He um… he helps me on projects even if he doesn't find them enjoyable. He's not a morning person, but he'll get up early anyway to make sure there's food. He's kind—"

"Thank you, Skywalker," came the breathing masked Jedi. "We were only curious what he taught you about the Force."

"Oh," Anakin felt small in their little world. They said he wasn't on trial, yet the question and scrutinizing stares made it feel that Anakin was fighting for his life. "Okay."

He looked around and found Master Yoda smiling. It wasn't the biggest smile he's ever seen. And it wasn't exactly the warmest either. Not the same smiles Obi-Wan offered. The smile was pleasant and Anakin got the sense the little green Jedi was pleased to hear of Obi-Wan's character.

Another voice called for attention and Anakin spun around to face a man with silver hair, crisped clothes and a flowing cape rather than a robe like the others. His brown eyes pierced into Anakin like an invasion and Anakin felt a knobby headache growing against his temples. The man spoke with a regal and honor. Someone of great wealth and pride. "Skywalker," the man said, voice deep and clear. "You stated you do 'runs'. What do you mean by those?"

There was something different about that man. The Councilor looked upon Anakin with growing fascination, privy for details. Anakin backed away from the man. Using the Force, he tried to get a reading on the man when he found that the shields were heavily fortified. Like he was hiding something of his own…

Anakin froze. He knew exactly who the man before him was—Dooku!

He never knew what the man looked like. Obi-Wan didn't have a picture of Dooku. Only Qui-Gon. The Councilor before him fi the very description Obi-Wan gave him and suddenly, Anakin was encased in an icicle. His blood went cold and the hairs on the back of his neck pricked up as he slowly slid his feet away from the man.

Dooku caught the movement and the corners of his mouth slanted. "Ah... I asked the wrong question," he said, leaning over in his chair. "What has Obi-Wan told you about me, young Skywalker?"

Anakin's chest tightened to the point it hurt to breathe. He didn't know what to do or say. Obi-Wan handled the enemy. He went head-to-head against Jedi and the Sith. Anakin… he did what he was always told to do: Run! He glanced to the double doors, his feet turning to make a mad dash to escape…

"I see," Dooku's regal voice echoed the chamber and he leaned back. "He's told you wild tales about me and Master Jinn. I'm afraid I must disappoint you then."

Anakin glared questionably at the man. Dooku only returned pity. "Obi-Wan lied to you, young one. Visions and dreams plagued Obi-Wan and he took them as truths"

"That's a lie!" Anakin shouted. His words reverberated the Council's chambers. He didn't realized his voice could go that loud. "You're evil. A murderer!"

Dooku clasped his fingers together, resting it against his chest. "Throwing accusations based on a rumor is an ill-conceived point," he said. "It only makes you a fool."

His vision burned red. "I'm not a fool!"

"Skywalker," came the thunderous warning from Master Windu. "Calm down or else we will resort to the binders."

Anakin scrunched up his face in frustration. No wonder Obi-Wan dreaded returning to the Order. It was like a prison. A glided prison, but nonetheless a prison. Yet, to save Obi-Wan, Anakin resorted to controlling down on his emotions. He clamped down the anger and refocused back to the situation at hand. This was a testing ground and he could not fail.

"Sorry," he replied as he turned his back to Dooku. The chill still remained in the air. A constant reminder of who was behind him. He hugged his sides, fingers digging into his rib cage. "I… I don't feel so well. Can I go?"

Skepticism was written on all of their faces. No one believed his illness, but Anakin had to try. Without saying a word, Anakin knew his request was denied. He stayed in the circle, eyes shifting from one face to the next as he waited for one of the Councilors to speak.

To his surprise, it was Master Yoda who steered the interview. "Feel cold do you, hmm?"

"Yes, sir," Anakin confessed. He hoped that meant he could leave and find Obi-Wan.

Master Yoda's wise faze fixed on him. "Afraid you are."

Not a question. A statement. Anakin shook his head. "I'm not afraid."

Master Yoda waved a claw in his direction. "Afraid you are," he repeated. "Afraid of changes. Afraid for Obi-Wan."

Anakin dropped his eyes to the floor. He chose not to say anything.

"Mindful of your feelings, must you be. The path to the Dark Side, fear is," Master Yoda said. "Take care of himself, Obi-Wan can. Focusing on you, are we."

Anakin nodded, but his thoughts were still on Obi-Wan and wondering if he was all right. "Okay."

Master Yoda studied him for another moment. "Then continue, we will," he said. "Answer Master Dooku's question, you will."

Anakin tensed again, but he put up his shields to hide his concerns from the Jedi Masters. "Err… the runs were our escape routes in case we need to leave immediately," he explained. "We practice different paths. Obi-Wan tries to make it a game—like a race—so it doesn't seem so bad."

"You create these routes at every place you live?" inquired the tall headed Master.

"Yes."

"Who do you run from?" questioned a man with two horns that came to his shoulders.

Anakin shrugged. "Bounty hunters, Jedi, Sith," he listed off. "Bad people in general."

He watched the Council's faces screw up at being labeled in such terms. Anakin hardly cared about their feelings. From his point-of-view, they were bad people. They hunted them. They kidnapped them. They were holding them prisoners for on a ridiculous reason that didn't make sense to Anakin. Obi-Wan and him didn't do anything wrong other than refuse to go to the Temple. And, Anakin didn't find that fair.

Master Windu's brows furrowed, eyes hard on Anakin. "Moving on… when confronted with bounty hunters," he said. "What actions do you take?"

"Obi-Wan usually tells me to run," Anakin answered. "He handles the bad people, but… sometimes I stay to help if I can."

"How?"

"Um… like distractions or using the Force to throw them off."

"And how does Obi-Wan 'handle' the situation?" inquired the dark-skinned woman.

Anakin twisted the ends of his sleeves. "He… um, he uses his lightsaber and the Force to keep us safe."

There was tension brewing in the chamber. Questioning looks were shared and a few Councilors shuffled uncomfortably in their seats. Master Windu followed up the question. "Has Kenobi injured or killed anyone?"

Anakin cocked an eyebrow. "What? No. He doesn't do that. I mean, he may injure in defense, but not purposefully!"

"Are you sure?"

His hands curled to fists, growling. "Yes!"

The masked Jedi folded his hands, building a little bridge above his lap. "During your travels, did Kenobi act—at any point—unstable or mad?"

"No!" Anakin shouted, confused by the question.

"Did he ever use the Dark Side of the Force?" queried the short man with long ears. "Use the Force any time in a negative way?"

"What? No," Anakin said, defensively and perplexedly. "Never! He wouldn't… what's with these questions?"

He felt his head spinning. Their questions were throwing him off, distracting him from something he couldn't quite focus on at the moment. He looked back at the questions, trying to analyze where their questions lead him.

A crease formed between Anakin's eyebrows as a memory popped into his head. "Does this have to do with that woman?"

Silence followed. A stirring of brown robes as the Councilors exchanged quizzical glances and murmurs. Master Windu leaned closer in his mighty chair, hand resting underneath his chin. "What woman are you referring to, young Skywalker?"

"The woman on Tatooine," Anakin clarified. "She had a red lightsaber."

The chamber erupted. Councilors were condemning him, demanding answers, or trying to penetrate his shields. Anakin winced at the onslaught, cringing at the invasion and denouncements. Finally a loud crack of a stick silent the chamber. The Councilors resettled back to their stoic expressions as Master Yoda took the floor.

"A woman you say?" Master Yoda said, interested. "Carried a red lightsaber, did she?"

Anakin nodded. "Yes. She had a red lightsaber."

"What did the woman look like?" grilled Master Windu.

Anakin half-shrugged. "I don't know."

Master Windu's strong brows rose high up his forehead. "You don't know?"

"No. You should ask Obi-Wan," Anakin told him. "He fought her after he sent Padmé and me away."

Master Yoda and Master Windu shared a look. "We will," Master Windu agreed, reclining in his seat, face stern. "Let's continue on so that you may join your peers for dinner."

Anakin fidgeted forward. Did he make a mistake in telling them about the woman? Was Obi-Wan in more trouble? "What about Obi-Wan? When will I get to see him?"

Master Windu breathed heavily out his nose, his nostrils flaring. "As soon as we thoroughly complete both interviews," he answered. "Now… let's continue."

"He's not in trouble—"

"Let's move on."

Anakin answered the last few questions, but it seemed the Council lost interest in him. Fifteen minutes later, he was walking with Master Krav again, heading to the refectory. He received his plate of food, but he sat alone, picking at the healthy leafs and fruit on his plate. He wasn't hungry. His mind kept revisiting his session with the Council, analyzing his answers and their responses. He thought he did well. At least, he thought he did well for most of it. He only hoped his answers didn't get Obi-Wan in more trouble. But, Anakin was sure he gave the Council a good impression of Obi-Wan.

Anakin sighed in depression and pushed his tray away. He missed Obi-Wan. A lot.