The Force is with you, and you are one with the Force. You should fear nothing, because all is as the Force wills it.
Obi-Wan woke with a barely-concealed shout. The dream – no; it was no dream. It was a vision – felt like it had lasted all night, or maybe all of a life spanning ahead of him for decades, filled with adventure and excitement, pain and loss, enemies and friends. However long the vision might have lasted, the span of time covered and its depth of feeling meant he'd woken entirely confused about where and how old he might be.
Well, that was one mystery that could be solved easily enough.
He surveyed his surroundings, registering in a glance that he was in his old quarters on Coruscant, the ones he'd had since becoming Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan. A glance down at his own body informed him he'd already reached physical maturity, so he reached behind his right ear to pull his padawan braid forward.
The braid was tied off roughly at the level of the V of his undertunic, with the unbraided tail trailing down perhaps half again the length of the full braid.
Those clues meant he'd been Qui-Gon's padawan for at least ten standard years, possibly even longer. When he felt steady enough to leave the bed, he'd check his schedule and confirm both his age and his current assignment.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, let it out, and rubbed his hands over his face, somewhat surprised to feel bare skin rather than the beard he'd seen in his vision.
His vision.
He should speak to someone about it, but who?
That his master's name didn't immediately leap to mind…he didn't want to think too deeply about that. Master Qui-Gon favored the Living Force above the other aspects, followed closely by the Physical Force, so speaking of things the Cosmic Force and Unifying Force had shown him would be unproductive at best.
That his master hadn't come in response to his distress when he woke only reinforced Obi-Wan's conclusion.
In the future his vision had shown him, he'd been a Master and a member of the Council, and any one of his fellow Council members would have helped him. Now, though, he was a padawan and his resources were few.
He rolled from bed and headed to the small fresher, where he relieved himself and splashed a little water on his face. The coolness as his skin air-dried often helped him fall asleep.
Tonight, though he splashed the water as if it were a ritual, he wouldn't be going back to sleep. Besides meditating on who might be able to help him, let alone who might be trusted with his vision, he needed to sort his memories and process the feelings the vision had brought forth.
Maybe after he'd done so, he'd be able to fall back asleep.
BREAK
Once Obi-Wan was confident he had settled his memories of his vision and could both answer questions about it and summon it to mind if someone should prefer to see it that way, he stretched and looked at the chronometer.
0144
He probably should try to get more sleep, even if that meant a trance rather than normal sleep, but the vision lingered and the Force prodded him to rise and dress. The vision might not come to pass for some time, but he could take steps now to prepare for when it did.
He paused in the corridor to stretch his senses throughout the small apartment he shared with Master Qui-Gon. His master slept, so there was no one to challenge his departure.
Still, Obi-Wan left a brief note on flimsiplast in case he hadn't returned by the time his master awakened before slipping out of the apartment.
The Force prodded him toward the library, which was generally open all day every day. Parts of his vision felt more immediate than others, and preparing for those parts as best he could seemed a good idea.
Being in the library felt like coming home. At first, when he'd been a new padawan, he'd come here with Master Qui-Gon, whose hobby was Jedi history, and while his master pored through old tomes, Obi-Wan fought his own impatience.
Later, he'd become fond of the study of history in his own right, even if he and his master had different areas of interest, and he knew the halls of the library almost as well as he knew his own room.
Tonight, however, he headed for the reference desk. To his quickly-concealed surprise, Master Jocasta Nu, the Chief Librarian, sat at the desk, focused on whatever she was reading.
"Good evening, Master," Obi-Wan said. "Or perhaps, given the hour, good morning."
She looked up, blinking as she refocused. She was at least as old as Master Qui-Gon, but her hair had no gray in it and, unusually for a Jedi Master, all the lines in her face seemed to come from smiling. Except the scar down the left side, of course.
"Padawan Kenobi," she said. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Shouldn't you?" he countered, allowing humor to flow down the Force between them.
"One of the benefits of being the Chief Librarian is that I can choose my own hours." She set aside the tome she'd been perusing. "How may I assist?"
Obi-Wan hesitated only a moment before saying, "I've had a vision, a glimpse of an upcoming mission. We'll be in the Mid Rim and Outer Rim, and we'll need currency, or something to barter. Perhaps a travel guide would have information on non-standard currency? I don't know where those are located…or even if we have such a thing."
Master Nu chuckled softly. "Of course we have travel guides, and not just the Alderaan on Fifty Credits a Day variety. We have reports from knights who have traveled there as well as from our service corps personnel. This way."
While in theory, one could access any of the library's holocron and other electronically stored data from any data terminal in the library, most of the main sections had a few terminals dedicated to their category materials only, and it was to one of those terminals that Master Nu led him.
When Master Nu sat at one of the terminals herself, Obi-Wan allowed his surprise to bleed through the Force.
She looked over her shoulder at him with a small smile. "Since before you became a padawan, I've spent most of my time in the library researching ancient tomes in languages long dead. It'll do me good to look up something more mundane. Don't expect me to do your work for you again."
Obi-Wan smiled slightly in return. "In my defense, Master, I only asked where the guides are located."
Master Nu muttered something that probably meant "smartass" in Old High Something-or-Other and turned to focus on her research.
After many sessions in the library, Obi-Wan knew to leave her to it. She wouldn't welcome his assistance, no matter how well-intentioned nor how well he knew the system generally.
Far more quickly than he would've found the information, Master Nu turned back to him, her face etched in a frown that made her scar look far more angry than it usually did.
"Most of the Outer Rim worlds have their own currencies, and money-changers at the spaceports who will gladly take Republic Credits and convert them to the local currency for a significant fee."
Obi-Wan blew out a breath. "I'm not certain of the circumstances, of course, but I had the feeling that changing a large amount of money would draw attention we wouldn't want, assuming we had time to get to a money-changer at all."
"Do you know which planet you were on?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reviewed the memory of that part of the vision. "I don't know the name, but we were in a desert region, if that helps at all."
"Not particularly," Master Nu said. "There are a dozen Outer Rim worlds with significant deserts and a few that are almost all desert."
She sat back in the chair at the terminal, her expression serious as she focused on him fully. "Precious metals or gemstones would be your safest bet – aurodium, nova crystals, or the like."
Dismay settled in Obi-Wan's gut for a moment before, with the ease of long practice (that suddenly felt somehow easier), he released it to the Force. If the Force had given him the vision, it would give him what he needed to avoid the horrible outcome he'd seen.
Master Nu had surely felt his momentary despair, because she titled her head in inquiry.
"I have some savings," he said, "but I doubt it will be enough for as much as we're likely to need."
"How much do you think you will need?"
"Enough for a hyperdrive repair and possibly the manumission of a mother and child."
Master Nu's eyebrows shot up, though he didn't feel her surprise through the Force. Not that he would've; she'd been a master longer than he'd been alive.
"That seemed oddly specific," she said, but all she asked was, "How soon will you need it?"
Obi-Wan reviewed the vision again. "Not long. A month, perhaps. Certainly no longer and possibly much sooner."
"You do present a challenge, Padawan Kenobi."
"You wouldn't like me half as much if I didn't, Master Nu."
Amusement flickered over her face and was gone in a heartbeat before her expression settled into something considering, contemplative.
"The Council has such resources, of course," she said finally. "And if you explain your vision, I'm certain they will provide what you need. But if not, come back to me before you depart."
Obi-Wan bowed deeply. "My thanks, Master Nu – for your acceptance as well as your assistance."
BREAK
Obi-Wan took a long, convoluted route to return to his quarters, enjoying the relative emptiness of the temple in the early morning hours and allowing the gentle rhythm of his footsteps to guide him into a light meditative state. In truth, he'd always preferred moving meditations over seated ones, but he rarely had a chance to indulge in them since becoming padawan to Master Qui-Gon Jinn.
And that brought a tickle of awareness to his consciousness. He'd been Master Qui-Gon's padawan nearly half his life. When would he be ready for the Trials? Or, perhaps, when would Master Qui-Gon think he'd be ready?
Or – and this was the question he'd been avoiding for longer than he'd like to admit – how would he know when Master Qui-Gon would believe him ready?
The answer to that question was astonishingly, blindingly obvious, and Obi-Wan resolved to ask his master as soon as he could.
BREAK
When Obi-Wan let himself back into the apartment, Master Qui-Gon was seated on the floor in the sitting room, clearly meditating.
Obi-Wan left him to it, turning instead toward the kitchenette to make the morning meal. The temple had a refectory, of course, and whenever they were on Coruscant, they took at least one meal there each day with their fellow Jedi.
Breakfast, though, was for the two of them to review the previous day's activity, whether training or a mission for the Council, and preview upcoming assignments. It was an odd tradition considering that Master Qui-Gon was not very skilled in the culinary arts, but Obi-Wan had embraced both tradition and learning to cook with alacrity.
After so many years, he knew the first thing to do was put some caf on to brew. Only then did he look within to see what his body preferred for breakfast.
Today was a day for omelets, so he removed eggs from the cool-unit along with a variety of vegetables from different planets in the Core, and set to work chopping the vegetables. Then he cracked the eggs into a bowl and whisked them together with a soft cheese and a little milk.
He'd just poured the eggs into two separate pans on the stove when his master joined him in the kitchenette, heading straight for the pot of caf and pouring himself a cup.
"Does something trouble you, Padawan? It's not like you to leave in the middle of the night."
"Several things, Master." Obi-Wan pulled the eggs in each pan toward the center in turn. "I took a walk to clear my mind."
"Can I be of assistance?"
It was on the tip of Obi-Wan's tongue to ask about the Trials, but he quelled the urge almost immediately. There was one topic to explore first.
"I had a vision, Master," he said, sprinkling vegetables into each pan. "Unlike any I've had before."
A flash of…irritation? unease? Obi-Wan wasn't certain…flickered through the Force and was gone.
"What made it different?" Master Qui-Gon took a sip of caf.
"It felt real," Obi-Wan said. "So real that when I woke and looked in the mirror, I half-expected to see gray hair and a beard."
"You believe you saw the future."
"Perhaps a future," Obi-Wan replied. "It is, after all, always in motion, as Master Yoda says."
"And that is why we should be mindful of the Living Force," Master Qui-Gon said.
It was a tired refrain, and one Obi-Wan was heartily sick of hearing – though he buried that reaction deep.
"But we are also to listen to the Force, are we not, Master?"
"The trick is to learn to discern when the Force is truly speaking to us and when we are merely engaging in flights of fancy."
The implication was clear: his master didn't think he'd learned that lesson yet. Was that belief rooted in Obi-Wan's younger years, when he'd followed the will of the Force and remained on Melida/Daan? Or was it simply part of his master's own experiences?
Obi-Wan flipped the first omelet and slid it onto a plate, which he offered his master. Master Qui-Gon took it and his caf to the small dining table. Quickly, Obi-Wan took up his own omelet and followed his master.
He waited until they had almost finished their meal – today's agenda being simply one of training, study, and meditation, and therefore covered quickly – before speaking again.
"I wonder if it's time for me to take the Trials."
Master Jinn looked at him over the rim of his cup of caf. "What makes you wonder that, Padawan?"
"Lately, these last few months, you've not offered as much correction as you have in the past," Obi-Wan said. "I hoped that meant I might be ready."
"The Force will tell me when you are ready."