Upadana

Scene 4

Master Sifa, though benevolent and wise, was yet herself a stubborn Dragon at heart, and therefore in most un-Jedi-like denial regarding the gradual loss of acuity in vision that accompanied her advanced age. When, upon the following morning, she proposed to take the rambunctious crechelings down to the vast indoor arboretum for a rambling exploration of its groomed paths, this small defect in her sight made it possible for an act of larceny to occur right under her nose and all three rheumy eyes.

Obi-Wan smuggled T'k'ta into the gardens beneath his oversized tunic.

Garen Muln was an accomplice, of course, having been convinced of the rightness of this plan at breakfast that very morning. He acted as spotter, helping shield his friend from view as they obediently filed their way out of the swift tube, across a soaring hall, and through the wide arched doors to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Master Ko nodded and smiled upon her tiny charges as they enthusiastically set off into the misty green expanse, trailed by a handful of younger padawan volunteers. She never noticed the addition to the ranks, nor wondered to for what purpose the kidnapping had been effected.

The conspirators' tunics and trousers were thoroughly muddied by the time they had discovered the perfect location, close to the artificial river's banks, beneath the shaded foliage of a drooping yarbanna tree.

"Here. This is good – just like the holo."

Garen Muln agreed heartily. "He can ambush unsuspecting prey from the mottled undergrowth."

Obi-Wan, on hands and knees, brushed some fallen branches aside and settled T'k'ta down in his new lair. "Maybe he can ambush anybody who breaks the rules and goes swimming."

His friend's eyes widened. "And eat them?"

"Well." T'k'ta kept flopping over onto his face, so it was necessary to prop him upright with a few well-placed twigs, which took some concentration. "He has to have prey, Garen. It's his nature. He Scourges things."

"Oh." Garen squinted through the verdant screen at the streamlet's burbling surface. "And he has lots of water to drink. And a place to sleep."

"Yes, and Bruck can't find him here."

Or so it was to be hoped. They looked with satisfaction upon their handiwork and grinned in unison – with T'k'ta relocated to a safe environment, where he could not be torn to shreds by the Temple's resident hellion, and where his own fierce Scourging proclivities would be limited to those who deserved such fit recompense for rule-breaking, their work was done. They were ready to leave the crèche in good conscience.

Or, almost ready.

"He might get cold at night," Obi-Wan explained, divesting himself of his own tunic and wrapping the stained cream cloth about T'k'ta's sagging shoulders like a proper Jedi robe. The Scourge looked fearsome, sitting sentinel beneath the bush in his voluminous cloak. They added a lightsaber made of a hollowed umbaau reed, for good effect.

"Let's go. Somebody's coming," Garen hissed.

Afraid of discovery by one of the chaperones, they scrambled pell-mell from beneath their rustling and slippery cover – and ended nose to nose with Bruck Chun.

The latter snooping individual narrowed his watery grey eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing in there?" he demanded. "Nobody is allowed near the river. You heard the rules. You're being bad."

Garen's chest puffed out with indignation.

Obi-Wan's mouth thinned.

Bruck stepped forward threateningly. "Show me what you were doing in there," he commanded.

Garen's panic lanced bright in the Force; but Obi-Wan was already fully engaged. He crossed both arms. "Then you would be breaking the rules too."

"So?"

"So I'll tell." Distraction could be a powerful ally. Not that Obi-Wan could formulate the thought in just these terms, but he knew what he had to do, with the bright certainty of gut instinct.

"So you'll get in trouble too."

"Fine." Some sacrifices were worth the gain. The smaller boy flashed a defiant look at his rival and started off down the path.

He was knocked flat on his face in the next second. Garen landed atop both of them. Soon enough, they were a single heap of mud-crusted clothing and thrashing limbs- one which required two of the flustered padawan chaperones and poor Master Ko to disentangle. "That is enough!" she sternly interrupted their debate. "I am severely disappointed. You will return to the dormitory immediately and sit in separate corners until we return. And I am certain Master Alaan will have something to say to each of you. Shameful," she finished, eye stalks waving in disappointment. "To think such ruffians harbor any hope of growing into fine young Jedi, Hmmmph."

The punishment was most effective. Within an hour, Bruck was blubbering for forgiveness from the bored padawan set to stand guard over the malfeasants. He was issued a sober absolution, and dismissed to rejoin his comrades when they eventually returned from the gardens. Garen, by contrast, did not compromise his manly dignity with any such show of weakness, but did end up curled on his side taking a nap, his nerves having been overworked by the day's events and the shame of his present position. He was carried back to his sleep mat and tucked in.

Which meant that Ali Alaan discovered only one boy sitting obstinately in the assigned place when he relieved Master Ko of her duties that afternoon. The other younglings were at noonmeal, and the crèche common room empty but for the inciter of violence doing penance in the far corner.

"So," he addressed the glowering boy. "Another fight. Suppose you tell me why you started this one."

A shake of the head.

Master Ali knelt down and adopted a more severe mien. "Refusing to answer my question is bad disobedience," he reminded his small friend.

Obi-Wan squirmed in place over that. "I can't tell," he pleaded. "It's 'portant."

"Nothing is important enough to cause such an uproar," he asserted. "At least, nothing in your experience thus far."

But the boy would not be convinced. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry. It's a secret."

The crèche master exhaled slowly, reaching into the Force for insight. "Ah," he said after a moment. "Does this have something to do with protecting everybody?" Another thought occurred to him. "And where is your tunic?"

"Um…" The child flushed. "Sorry."

Ali Alaan regarded him quizzically. "I have a feeling this has to do with T'k'ta. Am I right?" He leaned forward, fixing the boy with a very penetrating look.

Tears leaked from hiding. "It's 'portant!" Obi-Wan repeated, small eyebrows quirking upward. "I'm leaving and I can't take him and bad things will happen and we fixed it. I'm sorry I hit Bruck. I had to, mostly."

"There is no had to. A Jedi takes responsibility for his actions."

"Yes, Master. I hit him 'sponsibly."

The tall man shook his head and stood. "We have a few minutes yet before noonmeal is finished. Why don't you show me where T'k'ta is?" His tone of voice left no room for questioning or objection.

A moment later, he heard the pattering of very small feet beside him. "Where are we going?" he inquired, calmly.

"To the arbeetum."

And off they went, on a quest to retrieve the nefarious Scourge from his chosen hiding place, and to seek resolution for an affair that had already caused disproportionate strife.