Wrap me in a bolt of lightning, send me on my way still smiling, maybe that's the way I should go, straight into the mouth of the unknown
-Shinedown; "Call Me"
~0~
...I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me;
Obi Wan stood in the center of the room, focused, body relaxed. His muscles loosened. He screwed his eyelids shut, exhaling, slowly, all the tension in he held in his shoulders dissipating.
He could feel the energy of the Force flowing through him, connecting him to everything around him. It was a gentle hum, a powerful presence that guided and protected him.
A sense of peace settled within him, grounding him in the present moment. He embraced this serenity, allowing it to seep into every fiber of his being. In this state of tranquility, he felt connected to the Force more than ever before.
With each inhale and exhale, Obi-Wan felt a renewed clarity and focus enveloping him.
And I fear nothing, because all is as the Force wills it...
The Guardian Mantra—a prayer spoken by members of the Guardians of the Whills, the author completely unknow. It was spoken during times of spiritual guidance.
Obi Wan drew out his exhale, his heartbeat slowing gradually.
He could sense the ebb and flow of the Force, like a river flowing through his veins. It whispered to him, guiding his movements, and sharpening his senses. The Force was his ally, providing him with an enhanced awareness that allowed him to anticipate danger before it even presented itself.
With a calm determination and vigor, he moved gracefully across the room, each step deliberate and purposeful. Every action was fueled by the energy of the Force, making him agile and precise. He felt one with everything around him – the objects in the room, the air he breathed, and even the thoughts of those nearby.
His lightsaber came down on his opponent, hard. The metal arm of the training droid, severed at the shoulder, fell free from its body. Obi Wan made quick work of the other droids, sparks flying, circuits sputtering and spoking. The synthetic bodies lay at his feet, twitching in malfunction.
Obi Wan's body twisted away from another, scarcely avoiding a blaster shot. The second and third were deflected by his lightsaber. A fourth shot ricocheted off the blade, changing its trajectory, back at the droid who fired it. The droid was struck square in its metallic chest, causing sparks to fly as its circuits were fried. Obi Wan made quick work of it, yeeting the damaged unit into three approaching TRD-2 sparring droids.
Blaster shots flew in rapid succession towards Obi Wan, but he skillfully deflected each one with precision and finesse. He leapt, kicking outward, then landed, raised his palm, and sent a few droids crashing into the nearby wall. His lightsaber whirled at his side, energy crackling and humming. He made quick work of three more droids in a shower of sparks and metal.
Obi Wan maneuvered behind another droid and swiftly disarmed it. The deactivated droid fell to the ground with a loud clank as its systems shut down completely.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, he surveyed the scene before him.
Friends and fellow padawan learners Bolla and Prie had been watching him, and had later been joined by Siri Tachi, who must have wandered in while he was distracted.
It was Siri, who climbed to her feet first. "Bravo! It seems like you picked up a few new things from Pantora." She pretended not to see the slightest red blush in Obi-Wan's cheeks.
"I didn't realize I had an audience."
Bolla stood. "What, don't like showing off do you?" He smirked.
"Oh, it's not that, I just –"
From the corner of the room, Quinlan Vos emerged, giving a very dramatic slow clap. Obi Wan powered down his lightsaber, and scowled.
"Padawan Kenobi, slayer of sparring droids," he teased with a wry smile. "Master Qui Gon must be so proud of your impressive skill with a lightsaber."
Obi Wan's eyes rolled hard in his skull.
"What? Nothing to say?"
He grabbed a towel to dry the perspiration from his face. "When did you get back? I thought Master Tholme had you on a mission off-planet?"
"Just this morning, actually. Bolla, Prie... Siri, you're looking, marvelous – as always." Passing in front of Obi Wan, he snaked a discarded metal alloy arm severed from the socket of a TRD-2 sparring droid. He inspected the singe marks and broken wiring.
Prie started for the door. "Well, I am famished. We should all get cleaned up and head to the mess hall. Vos, you're welcome to join us. I hear the cook is whipping up some new dish." Her back was already turned to them.
"Nah," Quinlan tossed the metal arm to the corner, then retrieved the lightsaber hanging from his belt around his waist. It ignited, and he turned, facing the other padawans. "I'm kind of itching to see what else Padawan Kenobi has picked up."
Siri eyelids flickered. "Vos, knock it off."
"Why? Would you rather fight me instead, Tachi?" His lightsaber was held up, the green plasma blade crackling with energy, Siri's eyes glowing under the illumination.
Obi Wan ignited his own, and pointed it at Quinlan. "Leave her alone, Quinlan."
The other padawan scoffed, then focused his attention elsewhere.
"Care for a match, Kenobi?"
Bolla sighed. "Oh, please. You know as well I do that Obi Wan can take you."
Quinlan snorted. "He wishes."
His green saber came down on Obi Wan, who anticipated the attack, and quickly adjusted his stance accordingly, parring with his blue blade, energy hissing as the plasma kissed.
Siri took a step back, Bolla and Prie keeping their distances.
Obi Wan gritted his teeth, almost growling. He met Quinlan's intense gaze, determination burning deep within him. He could feel the power surging through his body, flowing seamlessly in his veins, his blood singing with passion.
He pressed his blade forward, moving to the right and pushing Quinlan's blade to the left, carrying through his counter.
As their sabers clashed, sparks flew and the sound of metal against metal filled the air. Obi Wan's focus was unwavering, his movements precise and calculated. He could sense Quinlan's strength, but he refused to let it intimidate him.
Quinlan smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge. "It's a duel then, is it?"
His saber stabbed through the air, but Obi Wan spun away, untouched. Moving swiftly, he retaliated by slashing at the green blade with his own saber, causing Quinlan to retract it momentarily before thrusting it forward once more.
The clash of their lightsabers echoed through the air, filling the room with a symphony of energy. With every strike and parry, Obi Wan's skillful technique showcased years of training and discipline. His blue blade moved with elegance and grace, countering Quinlan's aggressive assault effortlessly. Each swing was met with swift precision, sending sparks flying as their blades collided again and again.
Obi Wan's mind remained focused and sharp. He analyzed his Quinlan's style, searching for any weaknesses he could exploit. The Force guided him, allowing him to anticipate every move before it even happened.
Amidst the flurry of strikes, Quinlan seized an opportunity. With a calculated feint, he lured his opponent into a vulnerable position. In one swift motion, he switched from defense to offense, launching a powerful attack that caught his foe off guard. His green saber sliced through the air towards Obi Wan's exposed side, but the padawan effortlessly deflected the blow with a flick of his wrist. The plasma blades clashed once more, sending ripples of energy cascading through the room.
Their duel continued relentlessly, neither combatant willing to yield an inch. The intensity grew with each passing moment as sweat dripped down their faces. They were evenly matched in skill and determination.
Quinlan cut at Obi Wan, but missed. He circled his opponent, jabbing at him again and again, forcing his fellow padawan to continuously turn again and again. He managed to get a few good licks him, stabbing and slashing at Obi Wan's thighs, legs, and waist.
Obi Wan hissed; "Damnit, Vos!"
Bolla and Prie were of the mind to run for their masters; this fight was getting out of hand. Siri, on the other hand, she was tempted to step in with her own saber, but steeled herself; this was Obi Wan's fight, not hers.
Obi Wan raised his saber. High, low, overhand—he struck at Quinlan in any way he could. Sparks flew as plasma blades came together. Obi Wan moved fast, side stepping to his left, and then carried his blade in a forward upswing. Quinlan raised his weapon for a counter, then reached for the hand grip of his opponent's lightsaber. He pushed his shoulder into Obi Wan's collar bone, then, when his opponent was distracted, drove his foot into the back of Obi Wan's knee.
Obi Wan's legs buckled, and he came down hard on his knee. Bolla, Prie, and Siri exclaimed, loudly, crying foul. A dirty tactic by Quinlan, who grinned as he stood proud and tall over his fallen adversary, his lightsaber gripped tightly.
Obi-Wan winced in pain, his knee throbbed, but he refused to let it slow him down. Quinlan's hubris would be his undoing. His distraction was enough for Obi Wan, who kicked his leg at the padawan's shins. Quinlan hissed words of surprise. And as Obi Wan staggered to his feet, Quinlan lunged forward with a swift attack; his strike was met head-on.
Lightsabers clashed in a shower of sparks, their intense battle echoing throughout the room. Despite the pain coursing through his injured knee, Obi Wan fought back with much resilience.
Bolla, Prie, and Siri watched anxiously from the sidelines, their voices filled with concern and anger over Quinlan's underhanded move. They knew this fight was about more than just personal glory; it was a test of honor and integrity.
With a sudden surge of energy and agility, Obi Wan swiftly ducked beneath Quinlan's strike and delivered a powerful blow to his opponent's side. Quinlan staggered backward momentarily before regaining his composure. And then, with a final burst of energy, Obi Wan launched himself forward, unleashing a series of rapid strikes that left Quinlan scrambling to defend himself. Blow after blow landed on Quinlan's defense until finally, with a powerful swing, Obi Wan disarmed his opponent.
Quinlan deactivated his lightsaber, allowing it to roll out of reach. He acknowledged, "Well, I suppose it's time for me to accept my defeat, wouldn't you agree?" The expression in his opponent's gaze left no room for doubt.
His opponent's gaze held a mixture of triumph and satisfaction, as if relishing the moment. It was clear that Quinlan had been outmatched, his skills no match for his adversary's superior technique. There was something about their demeanor that intrigued him, an air of mystery and power that demanded further exploration.
Their duel hadn't gone unnoticed. The loud clambering had alerted anywhere nearby, and brought Jedi masters running down the hallway.
As the Jedi masters arrived at the scene, they were greeted with a chaotic and destructive sight. The once peaceful room now resembled a battlefield, with debris scattered everywhere – remnants of shattered tables and chairs, broken mirrors, and décor. Their expressions turned grave as they took in the extent of the damage caused by the duel. It was clear that this was no ordinary conflict between Jedi apprentices; it had escalated into something far more serious.
Master Windu, one of the most revered Jedi elders, surveyed the wreckage with a mix of concern and disappointment. He approached the two combatants who were still standing amidst the chaos – Padawans Quinlan Vos and Obi Wan Kenobi.
"What is the meaning of this disturbance?" Master Windu's voice carried authority but also held a hint of sadness.
Quinlan, panting heavily from exertion, lowered his lightsaber and bowed his head. "Master Windu, I...I couldn't control my anger. I let it consume me." The excuses fell from his lips as easily as breath did so from his lungs.
Obi Wan, his face twisted with frustration and anger, stared defiantly at Master Windu. "He attacked me first! I only defended myself!"
"Save it, padawan," Mace's voice had a bite to it, one that suggested he shan't be trifled with. Both Quinlan and Obi Wan knew better than argue, buttoning their lips. "Now, you will both get yourselves cleaned up and report to the Council chambers."
Obi Wan and Quinlan exchanged glances, understanding the seriousness of the situation.
Without uttering a word, they turned on their heels and left the room, heading towards their respective quarters to clean up. Each step felt heavy with disappointment and regret.
Siri stepped up, putting herself in front of Mace. "Master Windu, a word please?"
~/~/~
Obi Wan sighed.
That definitely could have gone a lot worse. He got off relatively easy, compared to his Padawan mate. But he was on notice, and couldn't afford anymore mishaps at the moment. He supposed he owned Siri his everlasting gratitude for keeping his skin out of hot water-so to speak.
He found her in one of the many rooms in the council spire atrium. She was sitting on a bench by a decor window of brightly colored glass.
The sunlight streamed through the vibrant hues, casting a beautiful mosaic of colors on her face. Her eyes were fixed on something outside, lost in deep contemplation. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her from whatever thoughts consumed her. As he neared, he couldn't help but notice how the light played upon her delicate features, accentuating the curve of her cheekbones and the softness of her lips.
There was a sense of calmness about her, as if she had found solace amidst the chaos that enveloped their lives.
He cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence that surrounded them. She turned towards him with a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. It was a smile filled with warmth and familiarity, one that made his heart skip a beat.
The young padawan cleared his throat, willing his heartbeat to slow. "Hey there, Siri."
"Oh, hey Obi Wan," looking up, she flickered a smile, then saved her place her in holo-novel. "I was hoping to be seeing you. So, how bad of a tongue lashing was it?"
"Surprisingly tame."
He hadn't anticipated talks with Master Windu to go well at all.
It was with just trepidation that he took a step into the council chambers, and stood before them. The weight of their disapproval bearing down on him. The air, think with tension. The silence, suffocating. Obi wan expected difficulty, but the intensity of their stares took him by surprise.
Their collective gaze made Obi Wan feel small and vulnerable. It was hard to focus, when his heartbeat was so intense, so wild. It throbbed like the pain licking at the back of his knees.
An uneasy tension hung in the air.
Mace Windu spoke first, leaning forwards, his index fingers steepled together, pressed against the underside of his chin. "Padawan Kenobi – "
The master's tone sent ice through Obi Wan's veins.
"We acknowledge your skill and potential. However, you must understand that the path you tread is dangerous." Obi Wan started to open his mouth, but a sharp stare from Windu had silenced him, and young Kenobi pursed his lips.
Obi Wan cringed.
Grand Master Yoda, sat cross-legged in his chair, leaned, "First time you have stood before us it is not, Young Kenobi. Disappointed in you we are, though surprised I am not."
If a whipped akk dog could be described as a person, Obi Wan would fit the description.
Master Windu finally spoke again, his tone softer this time. "Your commitment will be tested, young Kenobi," he warned. "But it is not for us to decide your fate alone. Ultimately, it falls upon you to prove yourself worthy of our trust."
"Yes, Master."
"Heard Padawan Tachi's testimony we have." Yoda says.
Obi Wan raised a brow. "Master?"
"Yes," Windu adds, "As Padawan Tachi tells it, you were provoked. She explains how Padawan Vos threatened her, and attacked you without provocation, that you defended her, as well as yourself."
Obi-Wan nodded, his expression serious. "That is correct, Masters," he confirmed. "Padawan Tachi's account is accurate. Padawan Vos instigated the confrontation, and I acted in self-defense to protect both of us."
Yoda stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Troubled, this situation makes us," he mused. "Unusual for a Jedi to engage in such behavior."
"I understand your concerns, Masters," Obi-Wan replied earnestly. "But I assure you that my actions were necessary to prevent harm from coming to Padawan Tachi. I did not seek out the confrontation, but when it was forced upon me, I acted accordingly."
Master Windu leaned forward slightly. "We have also received reports from other witnesses who corroborate your version of events," he stated. "It seems there were several individuals present who can vouch for your actions."
Obi-Wan felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had feared that he would be judged solely based on Padawan Tachi's testimony, which could easily be seen as biased given their close relationship.
Yoda regarded him with a deep gaze before finally speaking. "Prove yourself worthy, you must," he declared firmly. "Earn back our trust through your future actions and choices."
With those words, Master Windu and Yoda exchanged a knowing look before nodding in unison.
"Very well then, young Kenobi," Master Windu said resolutely. "We will closely monitor your progress and provide guidance as needed."
Obi Wan settled back in the bench seat. "I suppose things could have gone differently."
"Quite frankly, I don't even think Master Windu should have called you before the Jedi Council to begin with." Siri added.
Obi Wan smiled, and Siri's heartbeat quickened. "I owe you my everlasting gratitude. Master Windu explained how you spoke up for my defense."
"It's the truth," Siri explained, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I couldn't stand by and let them accuse you unjustly," her voice tinged with sincerity.
"Well, I appreciate it."
Bolla and Prie came running into view.
Obi Wan nodded in their direction. "Hey guys."
"Did either of you notice what Vos was doing?" Asked Bolla, who seemed far too eager, hints of a deep grin in the corners of the Rodian's mouth.
Siri and Obi Wan shook their heads.
Prie started giggling. "Well, hearing what happened, the council left it up to Vos's master to see to his discipline. So, Tholme put him on latrine duty for a month! A whole month!"
"And he's been ordered into remedial lightsaber training!" Bolla added.
There was something amusing about the thought. He did deserve it, so Obi Wan thought. A completely unprovoked attack?
Siri chuckled; her amusement evident. "Well, I suppose that's one way to teach him a lesson," she commented, shaking her head in disbelief.
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. "It's certainly a fitting punishment," he added, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He had always believed in the importance of discipline and consequences.
Prie continued giggling, finding the whole situation highly entertaining. "I can only imagine how Vos must feel, having to scrub those latrines day after day," she said between laughs.
Bolla joined in on the laughter, unable to contain his amusement any longer. "Oh, I wish I could have seen his face when Tholme gave him that assignment," he exclaimed, grinning widely.
Obi Wan changed the subject, to something else that had been on his mind.
"Your master has you going off-world again, right Prie?"
Prie nods. "Yes, to the Felucia system in the outer rim territories. We're to meet with the Commerce Guild as mediators between farming communities." She rolled her shoulders. "Nothing spectacular at least"
Felucia was a colorful, humid jungle planet, whose primary export was the nysillin crop.
He's heard, lately, that Felucia was having some issues with local fauna introduced into their ecosystem that didn't belong there. It would made sense Prie would be going; her master's affinity for his work with animals made him a valuable asset.
Prie's natural understanding of beings from different planets, combined with their strong desire for knowledge, made them the perfect cosmic duo.
Bolla rolled his shoulders. "Give me a good holobooks any day, I say."
Figures. Bolla was at his happiest in the Archives with his master. Put a holobooks in his hands, or a holocron, and you had him hooked.
Obi Wan turned to Siri. "And, what about you? Off on another of your daring mission with Master Gallia again?"
Siri opened her mouth to speak, but another voice shouted over her. This one quite loud.
"KENOBI!"
All four padawans now shifted their focus to the fifth making his way towards them, stamping his feet on the porcelain tile floor. Clearly, a disgruntled person.
Quinlan Vos, a padawan who garnered a reputation for rule bending, came barreling towards them with a deep scowl etched into his face. Obi Wan stood on his feet, immediately putting himself between Vos and the other three padawans he was with.
Hands raised in surrender; he walked forward. "Okay, listen, Quinlan - "
"Shut it, Kenobi," Quinlan hissed. "Tholme was furious! Latrine duty, AND remedial lightsaber training?! It's absolutely insulting and it's all your fault!"
Obi Wan scoffed. "My fault?" He gestured at his chest, and gave a side-eyed look to Siri, who was the actual person to turn in Quinlan, but Obi Wan was not about to turn the teen's ire towards her. "Listen, you deserved what you got, alright? Just, you know, pull up your big girl britches and take your licks."
Quinlan stepped in dangerously close to the other padawan, his nostrils flaring. "Watch it, Kenobi, or I might just trash you again."
"Trash me? Vos, you couldn't even beat me by cheating!"
The close-fist punch came out of nowhere. Well, not really out of nowhere. Quinlan definitely meant to throw it. And unfortunately for Obi Wan, his body didn't respond quick enough to dodge the strike to the bridge of his nose.
Obi Wan stumbled backwards, a hand clasped to his nose. Had Quinlan broken it? It didn't feel like it was broken, but Obi Wan checked anyway. There'd be sizable bruising in the area there, but he didn't detect anything broken. His attention wavered, back to Quinlan. So that was the way of it then?
Obi Wan knew of Quinlan's likeness for fighting but what Quinlan didn't count on was Obi Wan's inability to simply... walk away, not when a fight came to his doorstep.
Rearing his head back, Obi Wan drove his forehead hard against Quinlan's.
Quinlan staggered backward, his hand instinctively reaching for his throbbing forehead. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the stars dancing before his eyes. Once recovered, Quinlan charged for Obi Wan's midsection, and the pair of them stumbled backwards onto the floor.
Bolla and Prie exchanged looks, Siri jumped to her feet. Outside observers passing through on their way to late night training, or studying, or anyone coming from one of the many temple refectories. It was definitely a sight to be sure - Padawans Quinlan Vos and Obi Wan Kenobi, rolling around on the floor, kicking and punching at each other. Considering the reputation, no one at all appeared shocked.
The two padawans scurried around, pulling, and scraping at the other, until Obi Wan finally managed to get to his feet. Quinlan grabbed at the other's tunic. Obi Wan twisted away from him, striking at Quinlan's forehead.
He swung at Quinlan again, this time aiming for his chest. Quinlan managed to dodge the blow, but the force behind it made him stumble further.
Siri hurriedly stood next to Prie. "Should we do something? We should do something. I'm doing something." She started for the brawling padawans, but felt a tug at her robes. It was Bolla, pulling her back.
"I want to see how this plays out."
Quinlan and Obi Wan continued trading blows.
A strike to Obi Wan's solar plexus, another to Quinlan's mid-section. Neither was letting up, even with the growing amount of spectators. Surely the commotion would have alerted temple security, maybe some of the Jedi masters. Prie was just waiting for them to come running. If Quinlan assumed the punishment he received for the transgressions earlier that day were bad, one could only begin to assume what would happen now.
Obi Wan picked himself up from the floor, and struck a kick at Quinlan's knees. The other padawan crumbled.
Breathing hard, he smirked, "Come on, Vos, give it a rest already."
But unfortunately for Obi Wan, Quinlan Vos didn't believe in giving up, not until his opponent was on in a bloody mess on the floor. He liked starting fights, just as much as he enjoyed finishing them.
And, another ruinous thing for Obi Wan, is that Quinlan never played fair.
Quinlan summoned the Force, and sent his opponent flying. Obi Wan's body went spiraling through the air, straight through a décor window, glass splintering in all directions. Quinlan stood aways from him, huffing and puffing and red in the face.
Silence. Not a soul moved. They were all staring at Quinlan, who was looking quite victorious, and smug, in his demeanor.
When it was clear Obi Wan hadn't moved for some time, Siri rushed to him, Bolla and Prie trailing somewhere behind her. She called to him, but he did not respond. Her heartbeat was pounding in her throat.
She dropped at his side, calling to him, scared, "Obi Wan! Obi Wan!"
By now, panic was beginning to set in. It was written on the faces of several observers. Some completely frozen in place, unsure what to do.
Siri managed to get him onto his side.
Obi Wan flashed a toothy grin. "Oh, h-hey, Siri."
She could kill him; hell, she just might.
Obi Wan staggered to his feet, with her help, then he brushed himself off. That is when they noticed, the blood. A red flower blooming in his chest, pedals spurting like a fountain.
Suddenly, he felt lightheaded.
"I... I don't - feel so good... Siri... " His knees buckled from under him, his whole body collapsing like a deck of playing cards.
His body lay on the ground, completely motionless.
Quinlan, in his moment of triumph, hadn't realized the gravity of the situation. His gaze shifted around at the onlookers, then back at Obi Wan, practically scoffing, half expecting the other padawan to get to his feet. He'd say he was just messing around; he wasn't really hurt. But Quinlan hadn't seen the blood.
Siri moved Obi Wan onto his back, his body limp and lifeless. His lips tinged blue. She shook at him, but there was nothing.
Cradling Obi Wan's body, Siri desperately searched for signs of life. Placing her ear close to his mouth, she strained to hear even the faintest sounds of breathing - but, there was none. No rise and fall of his chest, no air passing through the lips.
It was as if Obi Wan had been completely cut off from life itself.
Fear clenched at Siri's throat, threatening to overpower her. She tried to remain composed, reminding herself of her training and experience. With trembling hands, she felt for a pulse on Obi Wan's neck - a flicker of hope that maybe there was still something left. But once again, disappointment washed over her as she found nothing. No steady rhythm beneath her fingertips, no sign that Obi Wan's heart continued to beat.
It was an unthinkable nightmare unfolding before Siri's eyes. "N, n, n-no! Help! Someone, help! We need a medic!" She cried to anyone amongst the crowd, and noticed that Quinlan was not among them.