Chapter 11

Humid jungle air pressed in on her in the darkness. The only light came from a sliver of a window near the ceiling that cast a faint greenish-brown glow on her surroundings. The stone floor where she sat was slimy from the combination of condensation and mildew. She wiped her hand on her robes and rose to her feet looking for the exit. A single door occupied one wall, with no handle. Only a slit wide enough to slide rations into.

She pressed her face to the slit, trying to see outside. There was only nauseating stench of organic filth reached her nostrils. Voices wailed from somewhere nearby.

Her breathing increased rapidly with panic. The air was so thick with humidity that it moved like sludge in her lungs. No matter how deeply she gasped, she could not get enough air. She had to get out. The voices… she couldn't listen to them. Couldn't help them. She had to get out.

The sound of footsteps echoed from somewhere outside the cell.

"Master Secura?" she called. Her Master should be with her. They were on a mission together. Why wasn't she here?

She pressed her eyes to the slit again, but could only make out a glowing red light as it came closer. The Force was like an alarm blaring in urgent warning. She scrambled back away from the door as the red glow became the dual blades of a lightsaber.

The door flung open and the Inquisitor filled the doorway, her expressionless mask pointed directly at her. Lorna pressed herself into the far wall, terror seizing her and freezing her limbs, the Inquisitor's hatred and anger bearing down on her.

"You cannot hide from me, Lorna," the Inquisitor taunted. Her arm came up and her fingers curled around Lorna's throat as she leaned in, the burning red line of her visor inches from her face. "You will tell me everything before I am done with you."

The Inquisitor's mask morphed, and then it was Anakin's hand that grasped her throat. His eyes burned with an anguish so searing that it hurt to look into them.

"And then I will kill you like I killed your Master."

His fingers uncurled from her neck one by one, but the pressure only intensified. An invisible vice crushed her windpipe as he stretched out his hand, his fury radiating through the Force. She clawed at her neck helplessly, desperate for air. She couldn't breathe, needed to breathe, the pressure growing–

A darkness wormed its way into her mind, pulsing like an unstable reactor core, ready to explode at any moment. It whispered of a power she had only to reach for, and it would be hers to wield again, to protect herself again. She recoiled from it, even as her lungs screamed for air–

Lorna cried out as she woke, her chest heaving as she gulped in a breath of the cool, dry air of Obi-Wan's hut. Sweat drenched her tunic and her cheeks were streaked with tears.

"It's alright. It was just a dream."

Obi-Wan's calm voice cut through the last remnants of the dream's horrors. She realized he was kneeling at the bedside, his hand resting on her forearm.

She swiped the wetness from her cheeks and came to a sitting position. Goosebumps prickled her skin as her sweat-soaked clothes were exposed to the night air, and she shivered. She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. With reality finally set in, her self-consciousness came slinking in as well.

"I'm sorry… I… I didn't mean to wake you," she said, rubbing her eyes, her low voice taking on a husky quality from the combination of sleep and barely contained distress.

"There's no need to apologize. Do you have nightmares often?"

There was a hint of something strained in his voice that made her look at him. But she saw only concern in his eyes as he stared at her.

"Sometimes," she answered with a shaky breath. "It's been a while. But this one was…" She shook her head.

She had been about to say that this one was different. Dark nightmares had plagued her since childhood, especially after the Temple attack. The prison on Felucia haunted her dreams often enough, and she had relived Master Secura's death at Anakin's hands more times than she cared to count. But he had never turned his rage on her before, had never wrapped those fingers around her throat, choking the air from her lungs. And the Inquisitor—that was also new. That part felt...portentous. Like a shadow of things to come.

Dwelling on dreams is pointless, she told herself. A Jedi should focus on the present.

"Nevermind. You're right, it was only a dream."

"Dreams do pass in time," he responded. Something shifted in his eyes then, something she couldn't place. "But that doesn't mean we should dismiss them entirely. The Force often speaks to us in ways we don't always understand. You said you wanted me to train you. Perhaps I can offer some guidance with your dream."

Lorna hesitated, weighing his words. Master Secura had been the only person to whom she'd ever been comfortable sharing her worst fears and emotions. Trilla and Master Junda had been her closest friends, but they hadn't known her as her Master did. Only Secura had known how little her outward calm reflected the discord within, how she struggled to maintain her focus. She alone had known Lorna's full story.

Memories from her time before the Jedi were few, the streets of Coronet City featuring prominently in most of them. They lingered in the form of sensory and emotional remnants rather than clear recollections–the coppery smell of dried blood, charred blaster holes smoking in a stranger's chest. Master Secura had taken her away from those memories, helping her understand them and release their hold on her.

But though she had made peace with her past, something still held her back. The composed demeanor she presented masked a deeper struggle—one she couldn't quite name. If others in the Order had known that she lacked the inner calm a Jedi was meant to have—that beneath her careful control lay a maelstrom of anxiety and doubt—would they have questioned her place among them? She had worked so hard to prove worthy of the path that had saved her. Perhaps too hard.

But the Order was no more. It had already been taken from her. Master Obi-Wan was offering her another chance to learn what she needed to become the Jedi she wanted to be. She glanced at Obi-Wan, studying his solemn features. There was kindness there, but also shadows of emotions she didn't fully understand. She still hadn't unraveled the mystery of what had driven his Padawan to betray the Jedi or how the Dark Side had taken hold, but she sensed how it haunted him. It was evident in the careful way he avoided speaking of Anakin, in how his eyes shuttered and grew distant anytime the topic veered too close to those memories. Even now, there was a wariness in his Force presence, as if anticipating pain.

She did want him to train her, despite what had happened with Master Skywalker. Whatever it was that had pitched Obi-Wan into this despair, this inaction, it didn't change the fact that he had been a wise and powerful Jedi. She still believed there was much she could learn from him. This fear and her inability to overcome it–that was what held her back from reaching her full potential, what had always held her back. Which meant she had to confide in him about the dream–but perhaps not all of it.

"The dream started in a Separatist prison on Felucia," she said at last with a shuddering breath. He pulled a chair next to the bed so he could sit comfortably to listen. She explained the mission on Felucia and why memories of the prison had plagued her even after she had escaped and returned safely to the Temple. How she had tried and failed to let go of the fear it had created.

"The Clone Wars left many Jedi with emotional scars," Obi-Wan said, nodding and toying with the scruffy hair of his mustache between his thumb and index finger. "Fear is a natural response, but we mustn't let it control us."

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the bed."I… that is something I need to work on." She held her breath, tightening her mental barriers to keep him from sensing the shame and apprehension that came with the admission.

"I will keep that in mind," he replied, his voice neutral. "Was there more to the dream?"

"The Inquisitor was there," she said, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. "She came to me in the prison. And for some reason, I didn't fight, I was just… frozen." She paused, blocking out the images of Anakin that came next. "She knew me, called me by my name. She demanded information, but I never learned what she wanted to know."

The night of her escape from the hangar sprang to her mind. The memory of how the Inquisitor's predatory focus honed in on her when she had tried to board the Comet made her hands start to tremble. She shoved them behind her knees to keep them still.

"When I saw the Inquisitor on Coruscant, I had been trying to sneak onto the Comet while she was distracted. I thought I had hidden my presence in the Force successfully, but it was like she… she immediately sensed me. I… I don't understand why my stealth failed." She rubbed the back of her neck as her words started spilling out, punctuated by quick, shallow breaths. "Niko and Sinya… they would have escaped if I had evaded her. They left the ship to help me, they were captured because of me, my failure may have cost them their lives—"

"Lorna," he interrupted her, his measured tone commanding her attention.

She clamped her mouth shut and willed the pools of tears on her eyelids not to spill over.

"Breathe."

He inhaled deeply and she mimicked him instinctively. She met his eyes as he leveled her with a chastising stare.

"This self-recrimination serves no purpose, Lorna. We can learn from the past, but dwelling on our perceived failures... it only clouds our judgment."

He folded his arms, and she thought she detected a hint of annoyance in his voice. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she looked away. "The Force offers clarity if we can quiet our minds enough to listen," he added, his tone gentler.

"I'm trying," she muttered.

"You know what Master Yoda would have to say about that," he answered with a wry smile.

The reminder of the old Master's favorite line for admonishing younglings made her roll her eyes, but it also lifted her spirits.

"There is no try. I know," she sighed.

"Let's work on it in the morning. We will see how we can improve your connection to the Force. For now, try to get a few more hours of sleep." She met his eyes and the warmth she saw there helped her push the nightmare even further from her mind. He directed a reassuring calm at her in the Force, and she allowed it to smooth over her frayed nerves, like bacta on a wound.

Lorna's toes slid into the warm sand as it muffled her footsteps. She tiptoed in a crouch, all of her focus directed to keeping her movements silent and her mind veiled in the Force. Obi-Wan sat on a large, flat slab of sandstone a few meters ahead, his back turned to her. Cross-legged and perfectly still, he meditated as the twin suns sank behind the rocky valley, their fading light bathing his silhouette in a warm, golden glow.

They were setting sooner now, she noticed, as Tatooine moved into its cooler season—if one could call it that. Despite the cooler temperatures during the extended nights, the days remained relentlessly hot and dry. At least now they were using these waning daylight hours after homestead chores for training, a change that excited Lorna.

She kept her breathing slow and even. Cloaking herself in the Force, she created an invisible shield around her mind, one that would not allow any thoughts or emotions to seep in or out. She thought back to the moment on the Comet's ramp when she had done the same thing. Or at least, she thought she had. The fact that she had wound up directly in the Inquisitor's crosshairs, was proof that she'd failed. Imagining that cold, expressionless mask turned in her direction still made her blood turn icy.

She took another step forward.

"I know you're there, Lorna," he announced without turning, and she could already imagine the smirk that was likely twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Your emotions betray you. You do realize this is a training exercise and I am not a threat, don't you?"

She huffed out a breath in exasperation at his teasing and straightened her legs, abandoning her slinking posture. "I almost had you this time!" she exclaimed.

"You certainly have shown improvement," he said, turning his head slightly towards her.

She wasn't sure what had caused the shift, but Obi-Wan had become much more amenable to training these past weeks. Meditation sessions at dawn, levitation exercises, and tests of mental fortitude now punctuated their daily routine. The familiar Jedi practices were a welcome distraction from the heavy emotions that still hung over her. They settled rather easily into their new roles as teacher and student, their growing understanding of one another easing the initial tension. Each day, Obi-Wan devoted time to evaluating her connection to the Force, appraising her progress with a mix of scrutiny and, occasionally, approval.

"To be perfectly honest, your mental shields are already quite strong, especially for a Padawan. Even when we began these exercises, I could only sense you faintly. But I am actively seeking you, so you do not have the element of surprise. Not to mention, I've become rather attuned to your Force signature by now," he said.

Lorna retrieved her boots and tunic from where she'd left them a few paces away. She pulled the tunic over her bare arms, needing the extra warmth now that the overbearing heat of the day was past them, then took a seat next to him on the stone to pull on her socks and boots. "I don't understand. If my shields are strong, how was the Inquisitor able to sense me?"

"You said she announced her purpose was searching for Jedi, correct? If she was seeking a Force presence so keenly and suspected that there was one in the vicinity, that could certainly explain it."

Her expression remained perplexed as she watched the setting suns. She supposed that made sense. After all, she had been the one to put the idea that a Jedi was hiding in the hangar into the mind of the trooper who had stumbled upon her. The Inquisitor had believed a Jedi was near. She cursed herself silently for having failed to predict that doing so would cause the Inquisitor to heighten her senses.

"Not to worry, Lorna. With more practice, you may yet learn to conceal your signature from even the most determined Force user," he said.

"Is it really possible to conceal one's presence entirely?" she asked.

"Palpatine managed to prevent the entire Jedi Order from realizing he was a Sith Lord, you'll recall," he said dryly. "It's difficult, but not impossible."

"Can you do it?" she challenged.

He hopped nimbly off the stone and brushed the dust from the back of his pants. He raised his eyebrows, glaring at her, though with a hint of playfulness. "Allow me to demonstrate."

She scooted on the rock so that her back was to him, the last orange rays of sunlight warming her face. The sound of his footsteps receding several paces behind her was the last thing she heard before the desert around them fell silent. She closed her eyes to heighten her other senses and sharpen her focus. The Force flowed around her, as she noted the distant presence of a dune lizard scurrying under a low rock outcropping in the valley.

Obi-Wan's presence was completely undetectable. A strange void replaced the stable, grounded Force signature she'd felt just moments ago. She expanded her awareness, thinking maybe he had moved farther away from her than she thought but she still sensed nothing.

The only sound was the wind whistling between the rocks in the valley below. No footsteps in the sand, no rustling of clothing, not even the sound of his breathing indicated an approach. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

"Ben?" she called.

"I'm here."

He was so close, she could feel his breath on her left cheek as he said it. Her eyes snapped open and she turned to find him leaning down beside her, his face only a hand's breadth from hers.

"Force!" she exclaimed, her hands flying up in defense. "I really didn't sense you at all. How did you do that?"

He chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. "You didn't think I could do it, did you?"

"Alright, I admit, I'm impressed," she said with a grin. "But I imagine it takes incredible focus to maintain. How long can you sustain it?"

"It does require a great deal of concentration," he said, climbing onto the rock next to her again, "but I imagine I would be capable of doing it for quite some time if I needed to."

"That's amazing," she said as she watched him get comfortable.

Finally, she thought. Maybe he hasn't forgotten how to be a Jedi after all.

"Ah, yes, well…" he cleared his throat and busied himself adjusting his tunic. "Thank you."

She wondered briefly how he managed to maintain such concentration when she knew he carried the weight of his loss and grief. His pain was evident, yet he always seemed so composed. She wished she had his strength.

"Let us finish today with the mental defense technique. As you strengthen your mind against intrusion, you will improve your ability to mask your Force presence."

They turned to face each other until their knees were almost touching. Lorna sat up straight and grounded herself in the Force, preparing for Obi-Wan's push. She imagined a thick duracrete wall around her consciousness, impenetrable against assault.

She stared into his eyes as he raised his right hand to the side of her face. He began subtly, a feather-light brush against her wall that she might not have even noticed if she hadn't been expecting it. The pressure slowly began to increase until she needed to push back, fortifying her wall. She grit her teeth with effort, her eyes boring into his. His features remained controlled even as he pushed harder. Her wall started to bow, and the force of his offensive started to weaken her. Just when she thought she could hold him back no longer, he withdrew.

With the release of the pressure, all of her breath came out in a shuddering exhale.

"Well done, Lorna. That was the most you've withstood."

As she caught her breath, she surveyed his features. The last rays of burnt orange sunlight illuminated the left side of his face and highlighted the blue-grey of his eyes. His beard and hair had grown longer these past weeks. Evidently he had abandoned this facet of his grooming routine. It was ill-suited to his fastidious nature and refined features.

He really needs a haircut, she couldn't help noting.

She glanced away, watching the suns disappear beyond the horizon. Fatigue settled into her bones. It had been a long day—she was ready to rest.

"Let's head inside," he said, as if reading her mind. "We have much to do tomorrow."

Lorna yawned as she emerged from the hut the following morning. Today marked the beginning of the next growing period, so their primary goal was to sew the seeds for the next crops of pallies, tatoes, and polta beans.

"I can milk the eopie today, if you want to go ahead and get started preparing the growing medium for the seeds," Lorna said as they ventured out of the hut.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" Obi-Wan replied with a teasing smile. "She can be quite temperamental, you know."

"I've watched you do it a few times now, I think I get the idea."

She walked over to the storage crates to retrieve a pallie, taking extra care to find one that was overripe, for the eopie liked those best. The beast devoured it eagerly as Lorna stroked her side.

"Oh, you liked that, did you? Well, there's more where that came from if you cooperate," she told her.

Shaking her head from side to side, the eopie let out a haughty snort. Lorna retrieved the bucket Obi-Wan used for collecting milk and cleaned it thoroughly before placing it next to the low stool by her hind legs. Lorna sank onto the rough wooden stool, her face crumpling in distaste at the eopie's pungent odor. She grimaced further at the uncomfortable sight of the beast's swollen, pink udders. Taking shallow breaths, she started to reach for them. The eopie kicked her hind legs, and Lorna had to quickly evade them to avoid being knocked down.

"Use the Force, Lorna. Calm her mind," Obi-Wan called.

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't respond, sitting up straighter as she tried again. She did reach for the Force this time, though, connecting with the eopie's uncomplicated mind.

Easy there, girl. Stay still for me, Lorna projected gently into the creature's thoughts. The eopie only huffed. She reached again only to have the eopie suddenly shift her back end, shoving Lorna off the stool. She heard Obi-Wan snicker as her bottom landed in the sand.

She got up and folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, very funny."

"Shall I show you how it's done?" he said as he approached.

"By all means," she replied, standing back to let him take her place.

He ran his hands along the eopie's side, his smile fading slightly as he focused on lulling her into a state of stillness using the Force. The eopie's restless movements slowed and her eyelids drooped. Obi-Wan righted the overturned stool and sat upon it.

The eopie relaxed under his deft touch, the milk beginning to flow freely as he massaged the udders in a downward motion. The eopie's bluish-colored milk splashed into the bucket. Obi-Wan looked up at her with a smug smile.

She shook her head but couldn't help the smile that was spreading across her own features.

"You see? There's not much to it once you—"

The eopie kicked suddenly, sending the bucket toppling toward Obi-Wan. Milk splattered down the front of him, soaking his tunic and pants. His jaw clenched as he shook his arms, flinging milky blue droplets off his hands into the hot sand.

Lorna commanded her features into absolute neutrality, forcing down the laughter that threatened to bubble up from her chest. Obi-Wan glowered at the eopie as he stood, wiping hopelessly at the front of his tunic with his hands.

"That was uncalled for," he said sternly to the eopie.

The beast responded by passing gas loudly.

Obi-Wan looked at Lorna then, his expression serious, and she pursed her lips, willing herself to keep a straight face. He looked away, putting his hand over his mouth in what she thought was disgust. Then a snort escaped his from between his fingers. By the time his eyes landed on her again, they were brimming with mirth.

His laughter started as a deep chuckle, quickly building into a hearty, full-bodied laugh that shook his shoulders. He doubled over, resting his hands on his knees while the hilarity consumed him. The sound was rich and melodious, echoing across the desert landscape.

It was infectious. Lorna's carefully maintained composure crumbled, a giggle escaping her lips before she could stop it. Soon, she was joining in, her own laughter mingling with his. She laughed until her sides ached, finding it hard to stop once she'd started.

Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to regain his self-control. "Another successful lesson," he said, before bursting into another round of laughter.

He made his way over to the vaporator with the bucket, turning on the valve just long enough to clean the sand from it and fill it with a small amount of water. Lorna's giggling fit continued as she watched him splash the water over his hands, face, and neck, cleaning away the worst of the thick, creamy milk.

He let out a last few gasping chortles before lifting his soaked tunic over his head, wringing the milk from it, and draping it over a post in the eopie's stall to dry.

When he turned to face her, Lorna's laughter faded as her mouth went suddenly dry. He was bare-chested before her, the hot sun quickly evaporating the moisture that had soaked through his shirt onto his skin. Her eyes were drawn to his muscled torso, where a fine layer of sandy-colored hair spread across his chest and trailed down to his navel.

The defined lines of his chest and abdomen suggested he had not neglected his physique the way he had his facial hair in his time on Tatooine.

Lorna gulped and tore her gaze back to his face.

She realized his laughter had gone quiet and there was an intensity in the way he was looking at her that left her feeling exposed, flustered.

"Mind your thoughts, Padawan," he said, his voice low and rough as he turned away, heading for the hut. "I'm going to go clean up. You should finish up out here."

A deep crimson flush spread across Lorna's cheeks and crept to the tips of her ears as mortification built inside of her. Of all the times to forget her mental shields. She'd been caught completely off-guard, suddenly so… aware of his presence in a way she'd never intended. It wasn't as if she'd never seen a shirtless man before. So why had she ogled him like a hormonal youngling? She had never known herself to lack restraint in this way. It went against everything she had been taught as a Jedi.

She tried to busy herself by continuing to plant seeds in the growing medium for the garden, but her humiliation prevented much focus. She wondered exactly how much of her thoughts the Force had allowed him to sense and hoped it was not everything. She pushed her feelings away, determined not to let this isolated incident get in the way of her training.