To Shanobi. Thanks to Shan for catching my mistakes and making my characters true. I could go on and on but this will be my thanks instead: Read her work and review, it is well worth your time.
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The Coruscant sky was dull gray, softened slightly by rays of light filtering through the clouds from the dying sunset. Lying on his back on the rooftop Obi-Wan Kenobi could just see the last of bit of orange that lit the horizon. He closed his eyes briefly and let out a deep breath, trying unsuccessfully to let go of his frustration. The day was finally over.
Laughter filled the air, loud deep laughter. Obi-Wan opened his eyes and sat up quickly. He grasped the mammoth seven fingered hand extended toward him.
"Well done, Obi-Wan. Excellent. Excellent," boomed the voice of Jedi Knight Calvara Putan.
He laughed again as he pulled Obi-Wan to his feet, a deep rolling laugh that shook his entire frame. And that was saying something. Putan was an enormous being. He resembled a human, closer to two humans if you considered his girth. He had a round face and deep brown eyes which held a constant gleam of amusement. Beside him his slight padawan, Tilla Tan chuckled softly. Tilla was a Tanranite, a small being with light orange skin and a gentle face.
Obi-Wan did not feel as if his performance had been excellent. He rubbed his shoulder where he had fallen and shook his head slightly to loosen his stiff neck.
He had spent the afternoon practicing the "To Contemplate the Sky" kata under the instruction of Master Putan on a little used rooftop deck of the Jedi Temple. As a break from the strenuous lesson, Calvara suggested they try their hand at Bocho, an ancient battle art from his home planet. Bocho consisted primarily of swinging a large stick at your opponent while dodging returning blows or blocking them with your own Bocho stick.
It had started well enough. Obi-Wan had done well with the unfamiliar kata. He had worked hard and had received high praise from Calvara. Just when he had decided that he had mastered the exercise, he felt rather than saw a presence in the doorway to the rooftop. It was Obi-Wan's former master, Qui-Gon Jinn. Qui-Gon did not announce his arrival, but settled himself against the wall in the shadow of the door to observe.
Calvara and Tilla seemed oblivious to his presence so Obi-Wan did not acknowledge Qui-Gon and tried to continue with the work out. But he had lost his focus. Moves he had mastered minutes before now proved elusive. But Calvara was not a demanding master, preferring to encourage rather than correct so he seemed not to notice Obi-Wan's distraction and continued to praise his performance.
At the conclusion of the lesson Calvara had brought out the Bocho. After watching Calvara and Tilla handle the Bocho sticks for several turns Obi-Wan had taken a turn against Calvara. The large jedi was deceptively quick but Obi-Wan was just as quick and was able to use his skill at leaps and turns to evade Calvara's wide swings with the Bocho. But Calvara Putin was a Jedi knight and he quickly adjusted to Obi-Wan's strategy, caught him in a turn and swept his feet out from under him. Calvara's booming laugher filled the open air as he landed Obi-Wan on his back in three successive attempts. Calvara was pulling Obi-Wan to his feet for the third time when Qui-Gon approached.
The Jedi master, Qui-Gon Jinn, was tall for a human. He was slightly taller even than Calvara, although not so impressive in girth. Qui-Gon wore the traditional brown robes of a Jedi and his long hair was pulled back in a pony tail. His face was serious and somewhat stern, but his eyes though penetrating held a gentle light.
"Ah, Master Jinn, welcome! A marvelous performance don't you agree? We are very blessed with such talent in our young ones." Calvara did not wait for Qui Gon to respond but continued on, "We were just about to go inside to sample my mavaberry tart. You will join us of course? My padawan, Tilla here, prefers the open sky as is the custom of the Tan, but even he will bear a roof over his head for one of my tarts."
He pounded Tilla on the back, who was apparently used to the gesture as he braced himself and looked up fondly at his enormous master.
Qui-Gon bowed his head slightly to Calvara, "Thank you, but another time. Obi-Wan and I will stay a while longer yet."
Obi-Wan swallowed his disappointment, the entire Temple had talked of Calvara's culinary skills, but he carefully kept his face expressionless.
Tilla started to protest, but his master laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come padawan, I am sure that Master Qui-Gon wishes to see for himself the excellent progress Obi-Wan has made."
He knows well enough the progress I've made, Obi-Wan thought wryly, as he has been watching for well over an hour. Obi-Wan bowed his thanks and the Jedi master and his padawan left the rooftop. He could hear Calvara's laughter floating up the stairwell and vaguely wondered what it would be like to have a master who laughed all of the time.
He turned to face Qui-Gon, mentally preparing himself for what he knew was coming. Qui-Gon returned his gaze for a moment then turned to study the fast darkening sky without saying a word. Obi-Wan waited him out. He had a thousand questions, he wanted some sort of explanation, but he had also vowed that he would be patient and would trust and follow the Force.
At last Qui-Gon turned, "Shall we begin?" It was not really a question.
Obi-Wan bit back his frustration, "Yes, Master."
They started the kata over. They would be here for many hours, late into the night as they had been most nights since they had returned from their mission on Telos, over a month ago.
Obi-Wan carefully positioned his feet and balanced squatting on his heals, preparing for the first move of the kata. He straightened his back, tilted his face upward, and with a deep exhaling breath tried to center himself in the moment. Feel don't think. Forget the past, let go of the future and live in the moment, a familiar exercise for every young Jedi student. But tonight it was not working, tonight the past kept creeping in.
He risked a sideways glance at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon caught the look and held up his index finger drawing Obi-Wan's attention forward and with a touch corrected the position of Obi-Wan's shoulders. The Jedi master's eyes were gentle, but his expression was grave. Obi-Wan swallowed and tried once again to breathe away his anxiety. I am a Jedi, I can do this. He repeated the words several times in his head, but in his heart the doubt remained.
He had once been filled with such certainty, but all of that was gone now. He had thought he knew what it was to be a Jedi and that he would never stray from the true path. But he had strayed, he had gone hopelessly off course, and here he was, no longer a padawan. Still a Jedi, maybe, if he didn't screw up again. As far as the council was concerned he was still on probation, he had yet to prove himself worthy of being a Jedi.
Obi-Wan had thought that after Telos things would be alright. On Telos, Qui-Gon had forgiven him, had agreed to take him back. But something had changed in that terrible place, in those moments by the acid pit, where they had watched Xanatos die. Although Qui-Gon had told Obi-Wan otherwise, Xanantos' death hung like a shadow about him. The death of Qui-Gon's former apprentice had somehow changed everything.
Oh, Qui-Gon was once again his teacher, but not as he had been before. They worked hard. There were long days of study and endless hours of training, when it seemed to Obi-Wan that nothing he did would ever satisfy the man. Try as he might, Obi-Wan could sense nothing beyond the look of grim determination that had become his former master's constant expression.
Each night as Obi-Wan would throw himself onto his sleep, couch emotionally drained and physically exhausted, he would remind himself that this was what he had wanted. To be Qui-Gon's padawan again. It was not the physical demand of the endless practice sessions that wore at him, he was not afraid of hard work. It was the uncertainty. He did not know the purpose or drive behind Qui-Gon's incessant training. Qui-Gon had never been an easy master, but it had never been like this.
Qui-Gon had accepted Obi-Wan again, he had told him so and Obi-Wan believed him. He and Qui-Gon had come to an understanding despite the Council's hesitation. But Obi-Wan sensed an uneasiness in Qui-Gon that he did not understand and though he would not admit it even to himself, deep inside it filled him with dread.
So Obi-Wan persevered, he followed without question as a padawan should. He did as he was asked without complaint. When he thought he had reached his limit he reached deep inside himself and found a reserve of energy and drive that he never knew he possessed.
The work was not always without reward. Qui-Gon was a good teacher. He was patient and seemingly tireless. Sometimes late at night when Obi-Wan could barely keep his eyes open he wondered if the Jedi master would ever tire. But there were also moments of quiet satisfaction. His own joy when he knew he had finally perfected a movement after hours of trying. His satisfaction when he kept his focus despite his exhaustion and earned Qui-Gon's silent approval. Moments with Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder when they connected with a common sense of purpose and understanding and the doubt in Obi-Wan's heart disappeared.
Yet in the morning when he woke with sore muscles and an aching head the nagging doubt returned.