Chapter 1
As Obi-Wan entered the flight hangar his palms felt slick with sweat. He cast his eye over the ships that lay there, their crews hard at work, their pilots entering their cockpits, and he swallowed hard. His Master was going to send him up in one of those things. Despite Obi-Wan's hard work ethic and studious nature there had always been one area that his skills had been found sorely lacking: flying. It wasn't that he couldn't fly nor that he was particularly bad at it. In his flight sims he had always achieved the required grades that he needed to progress as a padawan. He'd flown multiple times with his master as co-pilot but now it was time for him to pilot his own ship. And what seemed like such a small step for most Jedi with their innate reflexes felt like a wide chasm for Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon had been patient at first. They had spent time meditating on it, helping him to practice controlling his fear. He had trusted his padawan to follow his instructions and take additional flight lessons from the instructor. "The time for sims is over" he had advised, firmly but gently. But every time Obi-Wan had tried to make his way to the hangar his legs had turned to jelly and he had promptly turned back around.
"Kaanta!" Qui-Gon called to his assigned flight mechanic.
Kaanta was in his late fifties, silver-haired with thick bushy brows. He had wrinkles about his brow from many years of focused concentration making him look severe even when at rest. But his eyes brightened when he looked upon his Jedi pilot.
"Master Qui-Gon," he said, bowing respectfully. "I wasn't expecting you," he said, whilst he cleaned a suspension coil with a dirty cloth in his hand.
The mechanic shook the offered hand of Qui-Gon, who didn't seem to mind the dirt and then looked behind the Jedi's shoulders to see Obi-Wan standing there.
"So this is your mysterious padawan?" the man asked.
Qui-Gon turned to face him and despite himself, Obi-Wan looked away in discomfort.
"Yes, let me introduce you to Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon gestured amicably.
Obi-Wan and the mechanic nodded courteously to each other.
"I need you to take him up for some flying experience," Qui-Gon continued with Kaanta, quickly to business as always.
Sensing he was no longer needed as part of the conversation, Obi-Wan drifted to a nearby starfighter. Its nose cone was missing, exposing the inner wiring whilst a droid administered to it. Obi-Wan took the moment to cross his arms over his chest, deepen his breath and sense the force to ground himself. He felt his heartrate slow a little.
"Hey! Come over here!" he heard Kaanta shout gruffly.
Obi-Wan turned around, wondering if it was him he was calling to but the mech and Qui-Gon were looking in the opposite direction.
A curse echoed from that direction and he saw a head pop out of a starfighter ship.
"What is it?" came back a rather irritated younger-sounding voice.
"Need a flyaround," Kaanta called, gesturing roughly for the person to come over.
"But nothing is scheduled," the other voice retorted.
"Special request," Kaanta patted the shoulder of Qui-Gon meaningfully.
Obi-Wan sensed the other person's annoyance and watched as they shrugged before climbing out the cockpit and down the flight steps to their position. Obi-Wan moved closer out of curiosity.
Upon closer inspection the person in baggy jumpsuit and engineering goggles appeared to be female. She was short and stocky in stature. Her dark hair was twisted behind her in a braid and she wore a scowl as she stood there, arms crossed. Though he noticed that the scowl wasn't intended for anyone in particular.
"This is my new apprentice," Kaanta explained to Qui-Gon. "She's flight certified so perfectly capable of taking him up for a spin," he assured.
Both she and Obi-Wan started at that.
"Hey, I only take people up who are not a liability," she said firmly, eyes like daggers at Obi-Wan.
Kaanta laughed.
"He's a Jedi. How can he possibly be a liability?"
But the woman ignored him. She took two steps forward then putting her hand in a nearby toolcrate, she pulled out a wrench and flung it at Obi-Wan's head.
Obi-Wan caught it out of reflex in his right hand. His eyes widened as he looked at her, realizing she had just intended to do him harm. He gave his Master an incredulous look. There was a small tug at the edge of Qui-Gon's mouth that indicated that he was finding this all rather amusing.
The woman shrugged.
"He's got the reflexes. I'll give you that," she conceded.
Kaanta whacked a heavy hand on her back.
"You just wanted to see if you could get a glimpse of the force in action. I can't blame you," he said with a knowing look but she shrugged him off.
She tore her stern eyes from Obi-Wan's wide ones to look at her boss.
"Which ship?" she conceded.
As Kaanta walked over to another starfighter with her, Obi-Wan took the opportunity to try and persuade his Master that this wasn't a good idea.
"Master, is this really necessary?" he asked, throwing the wrench back in the crate and rubbing the grime he had accumulated on a nearby cloth. His actions only seemed to make it worse.
Qui-Gon smiled at him.
"We've been through this before, Obi-Wan. You need to master your fear…"
"Yes and I agree with that," cut in Obi-Wan nervously.
He looked apprehensively at his Master as he hadn't meant to interrupt but Qui-Gon did not seem to mind.
"But must it be with her?" he asked. "She appears… volatile," he explained.
Indeed, when Obi-Wan stretched out his senses to her he could sense anger in her along with frustration and a deep sadness.
Qui-Gon rested a hand on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine, my padawan. She holds no malicious intent," he assured.
As Obi-Wan seated himself in the cockpit at the rear of the two-seater training vessel he tried to ignore the butterflies that were erupting in his stomach. He worried about her noticing his anxiety but she pretty much ignored him.
"Secure your harness whilst I complete the pre-flight check," she ordered him before turning back to her datapad.
He did as he was asked and turned to look outside the cockpit bubble at his Master and the mech below. They noticed his gaze and they grinned back at him. His stomach took another turn. He could tell they were hiding something from him. He tried not to think about it and turned away to watch the young mech that was now his pilot.
"Ground control, this is training vessel Delta 7, designation phoenix, requesting permission to depart," she said calmly and efficiently as she began preparing the ship for take-off.
The astromech droid behind him beeped something at her to which she responded:
"It'll be enough for this route, thanks R3."
Obi-Wan forced himself to think of one of his lightsaber katas to prevent his mind from considering what exactly they only just had enough of for their trip.
"Training vessel Delta 7 phoenix, you are clear for departure," came back a voice over the comm.
"Roger that," she responded and without a backward glance at her boss she glided them out of the bay and into Coruscant.
As they flew through the force field and began their incline up the designated lanes to escape Coruscant's atmosphere he noticed that she guided them manually. Normally Qui-Gon had allowed the auto pilot to take over this task as it was tedious in the extreme to stay within the required speed limits. But he was surprised to find how much smoother their departure was without it. He felt his anxiety lower as he watched her studiously keep an eye on their speed and gracefully maneuvered them around the spiralling queue loop that brought them closer to Space's edge.
As he watched the buildings recede during their ascent he felt his worries slowly melt away and he allowed himself to admire the beauty of the sun's light reflecting against their surfaces and windows. It was at times like this where he could feel the force all around him, captured in these small moments of awe.
As airspace grew less crowded, he heard the mech request permission to leave Coruscant airspace and his stomach turned again. When the affirmative came back he gripped his knees tightly.
"Alright, I don't know how many times you've done this before but I'm going to ask you take in a deep breath now," she said calmly.
Obi-Wan inhaled deeply into his chest and lungs.
"And at the count of three, I want you to breath out. Slowly," she explained.
Obi-Wan waited.
"1, 2….3"
He began breathing out just as she accelerated and he felt a slight g-force push him back into his seat as they rapidly accelerated. With inertial compensators on board pilots hardly felt anything of the g-forces that used to limit previous pilots from centuries ago. But there was still enough of the sensation to make him feel queasy.
"Keep breathing, flyboy," whispered the radio in his ear.
He hadn't realized that he had stopped so he continued, marveling at how calm she sounded whilst doing this.
After a few more seconds they were in Coruscant's orbit and the g-forces disappeared. Obi-Wan breathed with relief and closed his eyes. That had been as unpleasant as ever.
"Feeling sick?" asked the mech.
"No," he replied.
"Great," she said dryly. "Now I'm going to take us through a few basic dog fighting man oeuvres. Again I'll tell you when to breathe in and out. Eventually you won't need me to tell you. But you tell me as soon as you start to feel sick." And then in a lower tone: "I hate cleaning puke out of a cockpit…"
He said nothing as he frowned at his clammy hands.
"Did you get that?" she prompted sharply.
"I got it," he grunted back.
He had meant to keep his tone more civil but he really did not want to be here right now. He comforted himself with the fact that if he could get through this without space sickness then he might only have to do this once with a stranger and never have to see her again.
They proceeded then through a sequence of barrel rolls, yo-yos and his least favorite: Immelmann turns before practicing some basic avoidance man oeuvre patterns. She told him each move she was doing in between the breathing instructions but he already knew them by heart from the sims. After she had run through these moves in varying sequences she began to increase the force of her movements. They went faster, turned and banked sharper and rolled for what felt like forever and just as he was about to demand that she stop with her incessant "Breathe" instructions and the damage she was doing to his inner ear he felt the craft slowly glide to a stop.
He threw his head back and allowed himself to breathe normally. It felt like a luxury. But once he had calmed he realized that his stomach… didn't have butterflies anymore. Probably because of the relief that he wasn't dead, he thought sardonically to himself.
He opened his eyes and was startled to find the mech staring back at him. She had turned off the artificial gravity in-built into the ship and had released herself from her harness to turn around and look at him.
"What are you doing?!" he asked, shocked.
"You did pretty good there, rookie," she said as she looked at him solemnly.
In those dark eyes he saw the sadness that he still sensed from her.
"Uh… thank you," he said uncertainly.
This earned him a small smile.
"Kaanta was right. You are very polite," she said.
Seeing her smile, she suddenly seemed much younger than when he had first saw her. He still had no clue as to her age but he initially had guessed that she was older than he. Now… he was not so sure.
"Come on, undo your harness," she said as she reached forward to undo the latch.
He pushed her hand away.
"No," he said firmly. "It's too dangerous."
She smirked at him.
"We're in a dead zone, no-one is coming here," she explained.
"I still would prefer to remain in my seat," he said, icily.
The woman shrugged at him.
"Suit yourself."
She spun around and allowed herself to float above her seat in the cockpit. She lifted her goggles onto her forehead, drifted her eyes shut and rested her hands behind her head. As Obi-Wan looked at her reflected face in the glass of their bubble, he saw a serene look come over her that was only betrayed by a slight pinching between her brows.
As he felt his heartrate slow, he reached out with the force to see what he could sense. He noticed quickly that her anger had gone but a lingering sorrow remained.
"How is it that you are an apprentice flight mech that is fully certified as a pilot? From your skills alone, shouldn't you be flying one of these yourself?" he asked, curiously.
Her eyes flickered open and she gave him a fierce look through the reflection in the glass, face set in stone. He flinched. Clearly he had touched a nerve. Sometimes the force's intuition could feel like a curse.
But when she didn't say anything he turned back and saw that she had pulled herself to her seat. The hair that escaped her braid splayed about her like the fronds of a sea anemone over her tensed shoulders. She was staring into the distance.
"There's a test you have to take, isn't there? To become a Jedi master?" she asked suddenly.
Caught off-guard, he stammered his reply.
"Yes… we have to complete the trials before we may become a Jedi knight," he affirmed.
She saw her reflection nod.
"Has anyone ever successfully completed the trials but still not earned the right to be called a knight?" she asked softly, pensively.
Obi-Wan had to think about this for a moment. There had been many who had failed the trials or who had been postponed from attempting them. But he had never heard of anyone that had succeeded but had been refused the rank. As he considered it, understanding slowly dawned on him.
"Not as far as I know," he replied quietly.
They sat in silence for a few moments.
"What… what happened?" he ventured again, thinking that the best way to communicate with this abrupt and pragmatic woman was directly.
She didn't say anything for a while. He began to think that she might just ignore him but eventually she spoke.
"I passed the pilot's exam and I have the certification but I'm not allowed to fly," she said so low that he almost couldn't hear it. "I have an affliction called: "too much initiative"," she explained. "I'm impulsive, instinctive, volatile," she said the last word with a hiss.
So she had overheard him speaking with Qui-Gon... He grimaced lightly and prepared himself to apologize but she cut him off.
"Don't bother me with your pity. I've had more than I can stomach of that," she growled.
Not knowing how to respond to that, he stayed silent.
"And what about you?" she asked, finally turning to face him. "What do you hate about flying so much?" she asked, not unsympathetically but curiously.
He regarded her smudged fingertips as she gripped her headrest as an anchor. Really it was none of her business and he should tell her so but after she had revealed something of her to him, he felt that he owed her something in return. Besides, it was likely he would never see her again anyway. Finally he shrugged.
"It's the thought of not being in control," he said, sagging in his chair. "I don't trust these machines to deliver me safely, being just scraps of metal, wire and glass."
She leaned a little closer to him, disconcertingly. He noticed now that she had grease stain on her face asides from where her goggles had been. It gave her an almost panda-like appearance…
"Did someone you know have an accident?" she asked seriously.
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"Thankfully, no. But the fear …still lingers."
Her lips twisted in what seemed to be a sympathetic gesture. He caught a brief waft of citrus on her scent despite the grease but didn't have time to consider it more as she turned back around.
"You can't choose the hand that you're given, my Pa used to say," she said sagely.
"He was… also a pilot?" he asked.
Her reflection nodded in the bubble.
"Right until the end," she said. "He died in an accident, you see," she added quickly, softly.
He saw her wipe away moisture from the corner of her eye and rub the globules into her suit.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Now it was his time to be sympathetic.
"Don't be. He did what he loved," she said sadly. "Unfortunately not all of us can be so lucky…"
For a moment there he wasn't sure if she was just talking about herself but perhaps him too.
"Seems a stupid twist of fate, doesn't it?" she said, sounding like she was smirking.
"What is?" he asked.
"That I who loves to fly cannot but you who hates it must."
He heard her laugh hollowly. Now that she put it that way, he could see what she meant.
"Will you promise me something?" she asked, looking at him through the reflection.
He recoiled at a request from someone he barely knew but his intuition seemed to tell him that he should agree to it.
"What is it?"
"When you're flying up there in future, would you think of us flightless pilots once in a while and try to enjoy what you're doing?"
He smiled weakly and sighed.
"I can try."