This is it! The long-awaited Ch 9 :) Some not-really-quick notes: I am working on editing the first eight chapters, but I am also experiencing a minor crisis in Ch 10, so that may be a problem. Hopefully it'll be smashed out by next Monday, though. Also, I have never seen Groundhog Day, so I have no idea what you guys are talking about, lol. However, I have seen Live, Die, Repeat with Tom Cruise (watch it, it's a good one). For the reader who commented as 'Guest', if you still want to beta for me drop me a PM or email me at eatkinso 5 gmail . com (without the spaces 'cause that's how FFN works, apparently); I'm always happy for more betas. Finally, I need to acknowledge and thank my lovely new beta, Aria Breuer for beta-ing this particular chapter, as well as FallenHero93, fiesa, and for agreeing to help me as well. Special thanks to Eirian Erisdar, too, for giving a few pointers that will really help out as I edit the Second Cycle, even if they're not an official beta (go read her story Silent Song; it's super good). Without further ado: Ch 9.
The moment he realized he had breathed in, and that the air he breathed in was not the air of the melting pit room on Naboo, Obi-Wan opened his eyes.
All he could register was the ceiling of the Jedi Temple. What? How am I here? Why am I not dead? I know I died. Desperate – frantic – for an explanation he reached out to the Force—and encountered Mace Windu's Force signature. Frightened blue-green eyes met concerned brown.
"Are you alright, Padawan Kenobi?"
So badly did he want to shake his head 'no', but Obi-Wan found himself wondering if last time had been a fluke, if the Council believing him was a one-time thing. Instead he replied, "My head hurts."
"Well, your Master has gone to fetch a Healer; they'll be back any moment."
Obi carefully pushed himself into a sitting position, taking stock of himself along the way. The only injury he had was the bump on the back of his head and a slightly upset stomach. He was 15 again, back at the same point in time as the last time, and he still had all of his memories from his other two lives. Cycles? What do I even call these? How do I differentiate? After a quick moment of deliberation, he decided, much to his eternal confusion and heartache, that he had just woken up in his 3rd Cycle. It was just as he reached this decision that Qui-Gon and Healer Ha'ak Tar entered the room at a controlled dash. Just like last time.
Once again Obi found himself temporarily frozen at the sight of his Master, but this time it was for different reasons. I died for you, he thought, breath caught un his chest. I just woke up from dying in your arms.
"Obi-Wan!" the large man cried upon seeing his Padawan awake and sitting. "Obi-Wan, are you alright?" He sank to his knees beside the boy, one hand coming to rest on Obi-Wan's shoulder and the other over the hand supporting his weight on the ground.
Obi-Wan gazed at his Master's face, mind replaying the moments he had only just escaped. Had he been sent back because he had failed in his mission? Was that it? Did the Force want him to finish what he started? Was that his path to peace?
"…Obi-Wan?" Qi-Gon was now gazing at him in unveiled concern, his ocean-blue eyes scanning him as his mind reached through the Training Bond to his apprentice.
Feeling the presence of Qui-Gon beginning to reach out, Obi threw up shields his 15-year-old self had never even dreamt of having.
At meeting such resistance Qui-Gon drew in a sharp breath and pulled back finding that his Padawan had looked away in guilt and shame—but his face, from what Jinn could see, was set in the same stubborn mold that graced him in the mirror each morning. He shared a glance with Mace before turning to Ha'ak Tar and nodding.
The Healer nodded back and focused on Obi-Wan. "Alright, Padawan Kenobi. How many fingers am I holding up?"
"…Three," he murmured without looking up. "And I'm in the East Training Salle in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, and today is the first day of Valorum's second term." Finally, he raised a perfectly blank expression to the Healer's. "I am perfectly fine, Healer Tar." Obi-Wan resisted the urge to flinch at the surprised and slightly disappointed looks leveled at him by both Mace and Qui-Gon Jinn.
"I think I shall be the judge of that," Tar replied as he reached back to feel the bump on Obi-Wan's head. The only problem was that there was no bump to be found—not even a scratch.
"Master Jinn, you did say there was bump, didn't you?"
The Master frowned. "Yes, there is, an uncomfortably large one, too. Councilor Windu can verify."
"There will be no need for that, I'm afraid." When all Tar received was a pair of confused Masters he explained, "Qui-Gon, there is no bump on your Padawan's head."
Obi-Wan, shielded as he was, could feel with perfect clarity the suspicion being directed at him, and it hurt. All he had done was Force Heal the wound in order to escape attention as quickly as possible, but what had it gotten him? Most likely an extended stint in meditation with his Master, or a lecture from Mace or—worse—Yoda. Most likely all of the above, he thought grimly. However, instead of being torn into by any of the surrounding Masters they just shared another look and stood.
"Come, Padawan," Qui-Gon said without expression, face composed in his signature diplomatic mask. "The hour is late, and we should return to our quarters."
He dipped his head in polite respect, wary of further giving up his game. "Yes, Master." He stood and walked silently all the way back to their rooms.
That night he lay awake in bed unable to sleep – to even think of sleep. He had just travelled back in time again and this time had managed to upset his only potential allies within the first 15 minutes. Force, what an idiot. He decided that a late-night trip to the Room of a Thousand Fountains would not be remiss, but he had barely made it to the door of his room when he caught the whispers of hushed conversation through the durasteel. With barely a thought he closed his eyes and opened his mind to the Force.
There is Qui-Gon, he thought, but no one with him. Which makes sense…because he is sitting at the comm unit. Another moment of concentration enhanced his hearing.
["… understand I do not,"] Yoda's voice was saying.
"Neither do I," Qui-Gon admitted. "One moment he was confused, even overwhelmed – which is to be expected after just waking up from collapsing – but then he simply… shut down, Master Yoda. It was as if he was replaced by a completely different person. Shields stronger than any Knight's were thrown up the moment I tried to connect with him through the Bond, and a mask to rival my old Master's or mine made him unreadable." He hesitated.
["More there is?"]
"Yes. Yoda, Obi-Wan, he- he Force Healed his own injury. The act was so subtle that I felt nothing in the Force or his own signature to suggest he had even done such a thing, and Healer Tar admitted that he found no trace of either the injury or any Force manipulation to heal it; it was the work of a well-trained Master."
["Hmmm. Keep this a secret we should, watch Kenobi we shall. Something I feel is different with you Padawan, but clear the Force is not surrounding him. Unclear his future is. Be careful you must that he does not Fall to the Dark side."]
"Yes, Master Yoda."
The transmission ended leaving Obi-Wan with a sour taste in his mouth. His actions that day had caused the Grand Master of the Order, the Head Master of the Temple, and his own Master to distrust him.
With tears of heartache and loss, reminiscent of the death of his Master in the First Cycle, the not-15-year-old not-Padawan lay back down on his bed. He would not find sleep that night.
The next morning Qui-Gon emerged from his room to find his Padawan sitting in the meditation pose on the balcony, the Coruscant traffic blocked out with the temporary energy field. The barely-greying sky cast the boy's reddish-brown hair into softer tints of copper, a promise of age to come.
Even from where Qui-Gon was standing he could see the tense set of Obi-Wan's shoulders, the lines of misery that etched their way through his very bones. He found himself simultaneously wondering what could have caused such intense emotion in his 15-year-old apprentice and bitterly believing that whatever secret – or secrets – Obi-Wan was hiding from him was well worth the suffering.
"Up so early, Padawan?" he asked bit coldly.
He watched as Obi-Wan stood slowly and turned to face him, dipping the respectful bow of a Padawan to his Master. "Meditating on my poor behavior, Master," the boy lied smoothly. In fact, if Qui-Gon hadn't been so intimately familiar with the aura and appearance of one truly in meditation he wouldn't have caught the lie; instead he merely narrowed his eyes.
"As you should be. Since you seem to have realized your folly, your remaining punishment will not be so harsh. You will meditate for two hours each morning before breakfast and train for three each night after dinner and your homework for the next week. Does this sound unreasonable?"
Obi-Wan bowed again, face serene and eyes passive blue-grey. "Of course not, my Master. As always your decision is just and fair for all involved."
Qui-Gon did not believe a word coming out of his mouth but chose not to confront the boy. After all, they had a mission coming up, and Force knew that their relationship had been anything but stable since he took Obi-Wan as his Padawan Learner.
This thought, for some reason, sparked a small flame of hope in his chest. Perhaps he is only fighting his own inner demons, he thought turning away and heading to the kitchen to brew a pot of tea. Obi-Wan may not be lost to us yet.
Over the next few days Obi-Wan attended his classes as he normally would have, carefully watching and listening to how his fellow students answered the questions and mimicking them so as to keep his greater knowledge hidden. It was hard at first, especially since it wasn't just his knowledge he was trying to keep under wraps but also his presence in the Force and his skills with a lightsaber, the latter being the hardest.
While it was a simple matter to hide his Force signature behind adamantium mental walls, but it was another entirely to fake a lower level of skill with his 'saber. Within three days he found himself standing before Masters Windu, Yoda, Yaddle, Gallia, Mundi, and Billaba in the Council Room with his Master standing behind him beside his 'saber Form teacher, Master Derani.
"Do you know why you are here, Padawan Kenobi?" Mace questioned sternly.
"I do not, Master Windu," he replied, making sure that he spoke and looked like the diplomat he had once been renowned for; he could not afford to let anything slip.
Mace seemed slightly angered by his response but made no show of it except a slight narrowing of his eyes. "You are here because your skills with your 'saber, Padawan, have significantly increased within the last three days. Your instructor Master Derani came to us yesterday afternoon after your class with the concern that you are advancing too quickly. After discreetly watching your class this afternoon we have all here come to the conclusion that Master Derani is correct. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
He studied them for a long moment formulating a response. Finally, "I can truthfully say that I am not taking any illegal supplements to further my skills. Such a leap in my skill can be accounted for the fact that I have overcome an obstacle within myself that allowed me to advance quickly in my training."
"An obstacle?" Depa questioned. "And what might this obstacle be, young Kenobi?"
He gazed directly at her and said solemnly, "I realized what was holding me back from fully utilizing the Force." This, in fact, was true. In the Alpha Cycle that is just what had happened: he had been brought to the realization that his anger and arrogance had kept him from completely opening up to the will of the Force.
He felt the heavy gazes of all in the room as they studied him for deceit, but of course there was none to be found.
After another long moment, wherein he knew the Councilors were communicating, Mace refocused his gaze on Obi-Wan and said, "We believe you, Padawan Kenobi. A close eye will be kept on you in order to track your development, but otherwise you are free to go."
Obi-Wan bowed respectfully. "Thank you, Masters. May the Force be with you." With that he turned and exited the Council room, Masters Qui-Gon and Derani right behind him. Outside in the foyer he turned to face them.
"You will most likely be moved to a higher class," Derani informed him. "There is no point in making you suffer through a class – already advanced for your age already – that you are no longer challenged in." Turning to Qui-Gon he added, "And you should probably get him tested in his academic scores as well. There is every chance that with Kenobi being more attuned to the Force he will advance quickly with his classes. In any case," he continued, looking at them both, "I think I would like to be kept informed of his progress." Master Derani smiled. "You're a bright boy, Padawan. May the Force be with both of you." He nodded at their replies and went off to his classroom to prepare for the next day's classes.
Obi-Wan stood serene under his Master's intense scrutiny. "Did… overcoming your obstacle have anything to do with your collapse in the salle?"
"Yes, Master. I am sorry I did not tell you before, but I was unsure myself as to what had happened. I have made peace with it now."
"Very well." They walked together back to their quarters. When they had almost arrived Qui-Gon asked, "Would you like to spar with me in the morning? We have a mission coming soon, and I would like to know where your new skills are."
"That sounds a great idea, Master," Obi-Wan replied as they stepped inside the door, and, despite his internal grief, even managed a smile.