2. A Package Deal
"This is it," Obi-Wan admitted, a tad nervous, as the door to his chambers in the Initiate Dorms whooshed open.
Fortunately, it appeared that none of the housekeeping droids had come through to clear out the tiny space yet. Everything remained as he'd left it that morning.
Inside the cramped room, his master loomed like an awkward Mandallian giant. He appeared oddly fascinated, eyes immediately latching on to the model Verpine fighters droning near the ceiling close above his head, held aloft by repulsorlift fields.
"Did you make these yourself?" Master Skywalker asked, turning to him with a grin.
"Um, y-yeah," Obi-Wan stammered, feeling a bit childish. "We don't have to bring them back though…"
"Why wouldn't we?" His master laughed. "You did a pretty good job, though the flight patterns could use variation."
Obi-Wan pursed his lips. "It's not exactly a big room."
"True." His master shrugged and turned a critical eye over to his desk, swamped with stacks of datapads, holobooks, and the rare sheet of flimsiplast. "I don't even want to know how long some of those holobooks are overdue."
Obi-Wan grimaced. "Me either." The closer the date to his thirteenth lifeday had drawn nearer, the more careless he'd become; the current state of his room was a testament to that.
Master Skywalker clapped his hands together. "Alright, Obi-Wan, let's get packing."
With an obedient nod, Obi-Wan set down the bag he'd already packed for Bandomeer on the floor, near the blast door.
"I have some boxes in here," Obi-Wan said, crossing the small space to the closet door beside his study table. With a small click of the control panel on the wall, the door swished open. Obi-Wan had only packed away his meager amount of clothes, but at the bottom, a pair of duroplastic boxes remained, half-filled with unfinished projects, miscellaneous wires, microprocessors, and soldering equipment.
"We could make use of this," his master decided, leaning around Obi-Wan to snatch up one of the boxes. "Though some of these wires have got to go."
"Uh, yeah. Those are pretty old," Obi-Wan said sheepishly as he picked up the other box.
"You can sort through these then," Master Skywalker decided, turning to set the box down by Obi-Wan's bag. "Toss out what you don't want, and put the rest in one box. We'll use the other box to lug these holobooks back to the Archives."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, relieved to be given some direction.
From the arena to the Initiate Dorms, Obi-Wan had been in a daze. He still couldn't quite believe it. Finally, at the eleventh hour, all of his dreams were coming true. And his master was not who he'd been expecting at all. Obi-Wan had been prepared to plead his cause to Master Jinn, to beg if needed. To do or say whatever was necessary to continue on his path of becoming a Jedi Knight.
But now, Obi-Wan could see that that would've been a fruitless endeavor. And he could only thank the Force that Knight Skywalker had been in attendance, because, for so long, Obi-Wan had desperately tried to gain the approval of any master willing to take on a padawan learner, only to fail time and again; always overlooked for someone younger, more talented, less temperamental.
But Knight Skywalker…he had seen Obi-Wan.
Not only did his master see him, he approved of him. Without hesitation. Without question.
"Obi-Wan fought like his life depended on it, as he very well should."
His master believed in him.
"Because it's the will of the Force. Obi-Wan will become a great Jedi Master one day."
His master wanted him.
"I would gladly take Obi-Wan."
The words were a cool balm to every harsh criticism and cutting rejection slung at Obi-Wan in his short twelve years. They unknotted something in his chest, lifted a weight he'd forgotten was there.
Inexplicably, he felt like he could cry.
Obi-Wan was crouched down beside the garbage chute, dumping a pile of old parts and wires, when a small beep indicated someone at the door.
"Who could that be?" Master Skywalker looked up in surprise from where he stood, powering off the last of the flashing lights and repulsorlift fields from the model fighters he'd snatched out of mid-air.
"Um, I think those might be my friends," Obi-Wan admitted, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll send them away."
"Eh? There's no need for that," his master said with a small huff of laughter, and waved him off. "Go on. We're almost done in here anyway. I can finish up."
Obi-Wan gaped, before protesting, "But it's my stuff, Master Skywalker!"
"You can call me Anakin," his master said breezily. "And you should probably hurry. Your friends are waiting."
Obi-Wan didn't know what was more baffling―his master's casual dismissal of formality or the fact that he was so inclined to do what amounted to Obi-Wan's scutwork.
But then his door beeped again and Obi-Wan settled on promising, "I'll be quick!"
His master only hummed in acknowledgment as he fiddled with one of the Verpine fighters.
Obi-Wan didn't give his friends time to come inside and snoop, only allowing the door to open long enough for him to step out into the hall.
"―knock it off, Garen! What if you get him in trouble?" Bant was scolding their friend, blocking him from incessantly clicking at the button on the control panel.
"Obi-Wan!" Garen cheered, turning from the Mon Calamarian girl and rushing forward to slap a hand against his shoulder. "So, how does it feel, Padawan Kenobi?"
Obi-Wan's momentary annoyance with Garen was quickly overridden by the surge of enthusiasm his new title elicited.
"You did it, Obi-Wan!" Bant cheered, salmon-colored skin flushed and silver eyes shining with admiration. She pushed Garen aside and pulled him into a firm hug.
Obi-Wan inhaled her salty scent. It was a much nicer hug than the one from last night. This time, they weren't saying goodbye.
"Congratulations," Reeft said as Bant stepped back. "Does this mean you will no longer be joining us for mealtime?" His leathery gray skin twisted in a way that made him look terribly sad.
Obi-Wan laughed. "I don't know, Reeft. But I'll try my best to."
"You don't have to worry about us," Bant assured him. "We're just happy you've finally been chosen for an apprenticeship."
"Yeah, Obi-Wan! We won't be far behind you," Garen tacked on with a rakish grin.
Obi-Wan beamed, but his next words were cut off by Bruck's mocking voice.
"I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you, Oafy," Bruck sneered. "Does your precious master know you're almost as overly emotional as you are stupid?"
Obi-Wan's friends parted and turned to stand at his side, a unified front against Bruck and Aalto.
"Insult me all you want, Bruck. It no longer matters. I'm a padawan now," Obi-Wan said evenly.
No one could steal the joy of this moment. Not even Bruck.
Aalto snickered. "And how long will that last?"
"You were brainless enough to walk into my trap last night," Bruck tacked on smugly. "It's obvious you won't make it far as a padawan, let alone make it anywhere near close to knighthood."
The white-hot anger came again, sharp and sickening.
But he held his tongue.
Because Bruck was right. Obi-Wan had been easily tricked. His foolishness had nearly cost him everything. And Obi-Wan wasn't so careless as to believe his apprenticeship couldn't be taken from him. Master Skywalker may have asked the question, may be helping him pack, but they hadn't yet made their oaths to one another before the council. Obi-Wan didn't even have his padawan braid.
So, he merely offered Bruck and Aalto a placid smile and said cuttingly, "I've made it farther than you, Bruck. Good luck learning to be a farmer."
"Shut up!" Bruck snapped. "Just because Master Qui-Gon Jinn didn't want you, doesn't mean he won't pick me to be his padawan!"
Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up as he recalled the master's vehement criticisms. And Obi-Wan imagined that if he could go back and redo everything perfectly, Master Jinn would've still found him lacking.
"I don't think Master Jinn wants a padawan, Bruck."
Now that it wasn't Obi-Wan's future on the line, it was easy to see.
Bruck looked apoplectic.
But the hiss of the door to Obi-Wan's room opening prevented him from retaliating.
"Obi-Wan, you ready to go?" his master asked, joining them in the hall, two stacked boxes balanced in his right arm, and Obi-Wan's packed bag slung over his opposite shoulder. Strangely enough, the trio of Verpine fighters had been powered back up and now hovered beside him.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, turning his back to Bruck.
While the boy's words had done a stellar job in reminding Obi-Wan of his shortcomings, now was not the time for doubt. So, he ignored the hot stab of shame that came with knowing he'd nearly failed, and instead, gestured towards his friends.
"These are Bant, Garen, and Reeft," he said. "Guys, this is my master, Anakin Skywalker."
His friends eagerly bowed and exclaimed an amalgamation of jumbled greetings.
"A pleasure," his master said with a laugh. "If you'll excuse us, Obi-Wan and I must go."
"Bye guys," Obi-Wan waved at his friends and rushed to catch up with his master.
Bruck and Aalto quickly moved aside for the pair, going completely ignored.
"Here," his master said, carefully lowering one of the boxes into Obi-Wan's arms.
Obi-Wan noticed the model fighters shifting their flight course, until they were trailing after him instead.
"Whoa, how'd you do that?" he asked.
Master Skywalker indicated the box in Obi-Wan's arms with a tilt of his head. "You had some interesting stuff in there. I took one of your microcontrollers and a geospatial receiver to create a homing beacon. Right now, your fighters are programmed to follow it until you switch it off."
"That's so cool." Obi-Wan grinned. "Can you teach me how to do that?"
"I'll teach you anything you want," he said easily. "But first, tell me what's wrong."
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Wrong?"
"I can sense your fear, Obi-Wan. What's the matter?"
Obi-Wan cringed. "I…made a mistake, Master."
"Already?" He huffed a small laugh. "That's gotta be a record."
Obi-Wan flushed red and wondered if his master ever took anything seriously. "No, I meant, before…" he trailed off, unsure if he should even say anything. Would his master still want him, if he knew just how gullible Obi-Wan was?
"Hey," Master Skywalker said, shifting the box into his other arm and placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
They paused in the middle of the empty hall and Obi-Wan reluctantly turned to face him.
"Whatever it is, you can trust me, Obi-Wan."
He met his master's steady gaze and nodded.
"Before…"
Warily, Obi-Wan explained how Bruck had goaded him into a fight. How Bruck had pretended to be gravely injured as a result. How Obi-Wan had promptly received orders to board the next transport ship to Bandomeer and report to the Agricultural Corps there. How he'd nearly lost everything due to his own foolishness.
"What kind of Jedi will I be, if I can fall for measly tricks like that?" He clutched the box tightly to his chest, the droning fighters buzzing near his ear.
"Obi-Wan," his master said gently, "learning to rule over your fear and anger is no easy feat. It takes time and patience. In fact, I can tell you that when I was your age, I was much more temperamental than you currently are."
Obi-Wan's gaze shot up to him. "Really?"
His master snorted. "You saw how I blew up on Qui-Gon. Is it really so hard to believe?"
"Uh, no I guess not," Obi-Wan admitted with an unintended laugh.
"Then there you go," he said, smirking. "We'll make a fine Jedi Knight out of you yet."
Obi-Wan grinned and bowed awkwardly, box still in hand. "Thank you, Master."
"Of course. And thank you for being honest with me," he said. "Now, I believe it's my turn to be honest with you."
Obi-Wan straightened up, eyes guarded. "What do you mean?"
"There's an unlikely chance I might get sent back out into the field," Master Skywalker admitted. "If that were to occur, I would not be able to bring you with me."
The familiar fear climbed hotly up his throat, making it hard to swallow or breathe. "…You mean, there's a chance you won't complete my training," he said hoarsely.
"There is," his master agreed, to Obi-Wan's growing horror. "I've already spoken with Master Yoda about it. If this were to happen, he's promised to step in and complete your training."
"Oh."
"I promise you, Obi-Wan, you will become a Jedi Knight."
Obi-Wan nodded numbly. On the one hand, it was a relief to know his apprenticeship would remain intact. On the other hand, he'd had Master Skywalker for less than one planetary rotation and already, Obi-Wan fiercely adored him.
"Now, let's hurry and get your stuff back to my quarters. The council will be expecting our arrival later this evening, and we still have much to do."
"Yes, Master!"
Long shadows cast around Obi-Wan as he stood before his master at the center of the Jedi High Council Chamber.
The arching transparisteel windows of the circular room displayed a grand, panoramic view of the cityscape. A bleeding sunset spilled across Coruscant's skyscrapers and refracted against durasteel, bathing the city in fire.
The blood roaring in Obi-Wan's ears was louder than any of the late afternoon traffic across the skyways. But he kept his eyes glued to his master's steady gaze, drawing comfort from it and remembering that the piercing stares of the High Council members were not focused solely on him. This was one of the moments Obi-Wan had been working towards his entire life. He was more than ready.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth and, above the loud thumping of his heart, began reciting the vow that he and every initiate had long ago memorized. And he made his promises. Promises to uphold the Jedi Code, to respect all life, to use the Force for only good. It was an old vow, one Obi-Wan didn't think he fully understood. But still, his master looked indescribably proud.
And then, his master began swearing the oath that was meant for only the two of them.
"I vow to provide guidance and wisdom."
Heart in this throat, Obi-Wan answered, "I vow to seek your guidance and wisdom."
"I vow to be your example."
"I vow to reflect your example."
"I vow to provide protection and refuge."
"I vow to seek your protection and refuge."
"Above all else, I vow to uphold my service to the Force."
"I vow to uphold my service to the Force."
Together, they recited, "The Force is with us. And we are one with the Force."
They bowed to one another, a moment frozen in time.
And then, Obi-Wan straightened and turned his back to Master Skywalker. He stood as still as a temple statue while his master gently combed his fingers through his hair. Obi-Wan, like many human initiates, had always kept it somewhat long for the hope that this moment would come to pass.
A single bead was threaded through a strand, meant to represent Obi-Wan's Choosing, before it was braided into a small section behind his right ear. And then the short braid was tied off with a yellow band, marking him a junior padawan.
The ceremony was complete.
Chest tight, Obi-Wan turned to his master and smiled.
"Thank you for choosing me," he whispered.
"It was by the will of the Force that I found you at this time," his master said with a mysterious smile. "It seems, as always, we are a package deal."
Obi-Wan wasn't sure he totally understood, but…he liked the sound of that.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the update :) And be sure to review if you can!
