Note From the Author: Before you read this fan fiction, please understand that it was started in 2002. I will be refining these very old chapters one day, but for now please excuse any grammar or spelling issues. 'DEAD RINGER' is a working title and when it is completed it will change.

Summary:: AU-About 2 years after PTM. Obi-wan is having to deal without his Master, who is still alive, and training Anakin. Now Obi-wan is caught up in the repercussions of his actions when he saved his Master during that fateful day on Naboo.

Disclaimer:: I don't own StarWars, I'm not getting money off of this.

Special Thanks to:: red_rose_knight, and CYNICAL21 for writing such great fan fics! You guys allowed me to get my mind into gear about writing. Hopefully this will be somewhat of good quality.

" text " = normal/verbal talking
italics = flashbacks
'text' = talking through a bond/force communication.

Dead Ringer

"Then with the eyes shut
looking thought the rust and rot
And dust, a spot of light floods the floor
And pours over the rusted world of pretend
The eyes ease open and its dark again
In the memory you'll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up" - Forgotten, Linkin Park

Chapter One :: Forgotten

Obi-wan's eyes grew huge as he watched the last of his score drop below his usually high standing rank. His lips pressed together in a tight line, his knuckles gripping the sides of the Machine were white from the death like vice. Slowly that saxe blue gaze that Obi-wan was famous for drifted to meet the sky blue eyes of his Master.

Qui-gon hadn't realized just how focused his padawan had been on playing the arcade game, nor had he realized what was in store next.
"I'M NOT SPEAKING TO YOU!" He cried out to his shocked Master, while the rest of Obi-wans friends finally busted out in laughter. Qui-gon was about to raise his voice to the youth for the outburst, but caught the all too humorous look in his padawan's eyes.
" If I could only be so lucky...Well if your not going to speak to me...then it's going to make our assignment much more difficult I'm afraid." His Master mused, jesting with his padawan much to everyone's delight.
"There's no such thing as luck, Master."
"Your talking to me." Qui-gon threw in right after his padawan spoke.
"No I'm not...I'm speaking to the Force" Obi-wan raises his arms, gesturing to some unseen person,. "see talking to the force, I am talking to the Force. And the Force is telling me that My Master and I have a mission..." Obi-wan's voice had become of a somewhat comical tone, causing his friends to convulse into more fits of laughter. A smile broke on Qui-gons face, before grabbing a hold of the padawan braid and giving it a swift tug.
"So tell you friends goodbye and return to the Temple. We've got a meeting with the Council." He let go and started to retreat, but he was still able to hear Obi-wan.
"And the Force is telling me, that I must go...and go I must back to the Temple, and seek divine guidance from the all knowing Council. I might add that the Force sounds amazing like my Master!" Obi-wan gave a grand bow to his friends, who all clapped during his departure. The young man quickly caught up with his Master, walking slightly behind.
"Care to clue me in on where we might be going.?"
"I thought you weren't talking to me?" Qui-gon quirked one of his thick eyebrows.
"I'm...not." Obi-wan formed the words slowly. "Okay, okay you got me." He raised his hands into the air to show that he had given up.
"We will be heading to Naboo."

Obi-wan's breath was soft, slow, so hushed and almost non existent as he laid in the tiny room of his cell. Turned on his left side, half way curled, met with half way stretched out on a cot mattress, so carelessly discarded in the corner. His head laid on a pillow that had seen better days, his lightsaber tucked so nicely beneath it. The cold hard corners, pressing through the ragged pillow, ever reminding of it's presents. Though he seemed in sleep, his eyes remained open, fixated on the wall, no more then a foot from his face. The train, he figured, had traveled by twice tonight, and was now working on it's third pass. The low roar of it's engine, the soft rumbling of the tracks, meeting the steel wheels, rocking the earth below it humbly. The whistling of the horn, howls of it's warning, nearly 15 miles away, but it's song carried on the silent night, with swift wings, and bleeding ears.

Slowly he started to get up, his muscles stiff from being unused for such a long time. The small amount of light that had managed to get through the hatch window was enough to clearly highlight the dull outlines of the four walls. His fingers wrapped around the cold metal of his lightsaber, carefully pulling it from it's hiding place. Luckily the guards had not put a collar on him, and were also easily swayed into missing his lightsaber during their search. Giving a quick tug on his tunic, he got to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his muscles. He had been in there for almost a week, awaiting for the time that the Minister Ferrero would be brought to the same fortress. He had prepped for this during that time, knowing it would be easier to just escape, then to break in, and then break back out. Allowing himself to be caught 5 days earlier had only raised the moral of group, into thinking that things would be clear, thus making them relax if not more, then just a little.

Once to the door, using the Force he quickly unlocked the hatch from the outside. He had thought about slamming his 'saber through the door, and melting it, however it would take more time then was needed, as well as possible alert the fortress of such an escape. As much as he would like to get the place in an uproar, time, and stealth was what he needed. The train would return in not less then 30 minutes, and when it did, the Minister and himself would be on board. The hatch slid open, and through the Force felt no one out in the passage. Knowing exactly when the guards would come by again, he rushed down the end of the hallway, lacing his way between the rotation of the patrols. Without missing a beat he thumbed a small device on the inside of his sleeve. A massive explosion shook the building violently, as all type of alarms went off.

Confusion was ringing through the Force, and the Young Jedi Knight leapt around the corner, his lightsaber ignited, he rushed forward destroying two droids that had been guarding the door. Again bypassing the locks, the door swooshed open.

"Come with me. We have little time Minister." Obi-wan extended a roughly calloused hand to the man in the cell.
"Thank the Gods!" came a plea from the cell, as an elderly man raced forward.
"I need you to do exactly what I say, when I say it."
The man merely nodded, as he was pulled out of the cell by the Knight. The two made their way through the twisting hallways, Obi-wan deflecting blaster shots when the time called for it. Within moments they had breached the outside wall, and were darting through the brushes. The thick underbrush slowed their otherwise hasty escape, and hasty it had been. They had barely stopped running the entire time, and the Jedi Knight was sure that he was going to have to slow down for the Minister to keep up, but in fact it WAS the Minister who was slowing down to allow Obi-wan to catch up. Surely by the time they had gotten to the hidden speeder, that the elderly man would show some sign of tiring, but he looked far from it.

"We're not out of the woods yet, Minister." He lightly stated as the speeders engine roared to life. In the distance was a warm glow of the fire, raging through the fortress. Small explosions followed, but nothing quite as huge as the first. They started out in the speeder, as the Jedi opened all his senses for this night time joy ride, without headlights, there was only the light of the moon to guide them through the now thinning, but dense forest.
"What's the plan?" A shaky voice spoke up looking behind them for any sign of followers.
"We're going to catch the next train, back to were I landed the shuttle. Is anyone following?" He asked, knowing all too well that no one was, or had been detected by him yet.
"I don't see anyone yet." The Minister turned back to face the front, quickly studying the Jedi's face before diverting his eyes. Obi-wan had had his hood on most of the time, but once in the speeder it was blown back by the rushing wind. Thick short hair was flattened down with sweat, small bristles of a beard were starting to grow from the finely carved jaw line, and chin. The moonlight caught the stunning outline of his profile, carefully playing of the edge of the finer points of the grimy, and battered face.
"What might your name be?"
"Knight Kenobi"
"Ah, Now I know I am in good hands with a Naboo Hero here."
Obi-wan bit back the bitter laughter that started to rise up. He had always gotten the same comment almost everywhere he went. Perhaps not in the same statement, but always directed as that. He managed to keep his emotionless mask set square on his face, relaxing only a little when they made it out of the woods, and into the vast plains.

Little was spoken the rest of the ride to the train tracks. But once there, they could hear the whistle of a nearing train rumbling toward them. After a quick explanation, Minister Ferrero hopped on board the back of the moving train, while Obi-wan quickly jammed the acceleration of the speeder, allowing it to speed off into the night driverless. With a quick burst of speed, Obi-wan was able to make it to the back of the train, pulling himself on board.
"How long till we get to your shuttle?"
"Not long."
"Why didn't we just take the speeder all the way to the shuttle?"
"The speeder was barrowed. That is probably why no one followed us, they are probably tracking it down as we speak." His words were calm in answering the question
"Where are we to go after that?"
"We will be met by officials upon arriving back at Coruscant, that is where we will part ways. I must return to the Temple as soon as you are safe."
The conversation grew silent again, much to the young Knights joy. There was something about Minister Ferrero that reminded him of his Master. A frown carefully laid upon his lips. Ex-Master was more like it, he thought. Ever since Qui-gon took Anakin as his Padawan, Obi-wan was left on the door step. True he was old enough to be a Knight when his Master had cast him aside, but is was as if, all his years as Qui-gon's padawan had never happened. All the memories before the Battle of Naboo had started to fade, slowly slipping through his fingers. They were happy memories, weren't they? He just couldn't remember anymore. It didn't matter anyway. All those things were in the past, perhaps they were meant to be forgotten.

The young Knight slowly adjusted his cloak, shifting the weight evenly over his shoulders, when he felt the cold steel of metal on the back of his neck. Every hair bristled on him as he could tell it was not a blaster barrel, but a slug thrower that was kissing the back of his neck.
"I'm sorry to have to do this to you lad, but it's better this way." The voice belonged to no other but Minister Ferrero. Without a second thought, he squeezed the trigger, just as Obi-wan jerked hard to lower left, throwing himself to the wall for safety. His mind wasn't on the ripped flesh of the side of his neck. The bullet had scrapped the right side of his neck, leaving a good half inch gash flooding with blood. Obi-wan slowly turned to look at the Minister with shocked eyes. Before he could react another bullet shattered the joint in his shoulder. Obi-wan reeled back, nearly dropping his Lightsaber. He wasn't sure if he should fight back, something was clearly not right, more then just the Minister shooting him. Once more Obi-wan searched the elderly man's face, and in the small hint of light that was available, he could see an unfathomable homicidal smile plastered on the Minister's face.
"I don't know what's going on here, but I'm taking you back with me, even if I have to drag you." His voice was so calm despite the shock that was twisting his heart. He hadn't felt any danger when he was with the Minister, nor had the Minister been blocking him. But now, who ever was standing before him looked like the Minister, talked like the Minister, but didn't feel like the Minister. The area around him felt cold, almost as if the air froze upon getting near the man. Obi-wan took a step back, his lightsaber still not ignited.
"Over my dead body."

What happened next was far from what the Jedi had expected. He had the warning, and was prepared to defend himself this time, but the warning wasn't for him. The barrel suddenly was pointing at the Minister's head, and with a soft crackle, he pulled the trigger.

If his mouth would of been open like he had though it had been, it would of been filled with the brain matter of the now nearly headless Minister. He stood there, not moving for several moment, his mind trying to process exactly what just happened. Slowly he scooped up the rapidly cooling body of the Minister, and leapt from the moving train. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind as he held the dead weight under his arm with the shattered shoulder joint. Landing was almost graceful, but under the pull of the body, he was nearly tipped over. As gravity had ruled it, the body was pulled out of his hold from the impact, landing on the ground with a sickening thud. The Knight cringed slightly, then carefully picking up the Minister again, he tucked him back under the wounded arm, then stuffed his hand into his leather belt. His injured arm was going numb, and would barely work on his commands.

After reaching his shuttle he quickly palmed open the door, happy to be getting off planet. Almost as if right on cue, his numb hand slipped from the clasp of his belt, allowing the dead Minister to once again fall with a thud on the steel floor. Obi-wan allowed himself to smile, despite all the control he use to. He knew it was wrong but he just couldn't help to comment. Not as if there was anyone around.
"Looks like it IS over your dead body, Minister Ferrero." There was a youthful humor to his voice, but no laughter ensued afterward. Making his way to the cockpit, he slapped open the hatch and with a quick scan over the instruments he took control and lifted off. He found it strange that other then the Ministers sudden change of heart, he had no encounters. Certainly he would have some sort of resistance trying to leave the planet, yet there wasn't a ship in sight. As the planet grew smaller in the rear viewer, something seemed to put him on edge. He calmed his anxiety, trying not to center himself on them. The Knight leaned back in the seat, allowing himself to go into a light Healing trace on the way back home. Again he allowed himself to smile. The Officials, as well as the Council would not be pleased with the news, and the report he would have to type would give him more then enough time to rest easy, back at the Temple.

His smile suddenly slid from his face, replacing it with a frown. The Temple. Hopefully Qui-gon and Anakin would be on a mission, as so not to bump into them. He could just stay in his apartment until his next mission came about, but he certainly didn't want to have to run into them. Perhaps Bant would be nice enough to bring food to him while he held himself captive in his own apartment. Again the smile replayed on his lips. Things were certainly looking better, better then they had in the last 2 and half years. If it wasn't for his friends, he probably wouldn't be looking forward to returning the Temple. They had made it home again for him, made him feel wanted, and if only for a moment, made him forget about the gapping hole in his heart.