![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardSo this is a prequel to Dirt in the Machine, taking place about six years before Dirt and three years before AotC. Genderfuck, lady!Obi-Wan, with Padmé, Anakin, and a few others.
The first time that Obi-Wan Kenobi saw Padmé Amidala since she had left Theed with a new apprentice and the dubious honor of being the first Padawan in nearly a century to gain her Knighthood after the death of her Master and a trial in combat, she and Anakin had just returned from hunting down airship pirates on Derith Nahar. They had come straight from the transport hangar to the Council chamber, and afterwards all Obi-Wan wanted was the longest, hottest bath she could manage, preferably with her apprentice on the other side of a locked door from her. For all that Obi-Wan would cheerfully lay her life down for Anakin, sometimes she had to forcibly remind herself that smothering him in his sleep would probably be frowned upon by the Jedi Council. It had been raining on Coruscant when they arrived, so that they’d spent their debriefing slowly dripping puddles of water onto the floor of the Council chamber; Obi-Wan was uncomfortably aware that Anakin looked more like a drowned womprat than he did a Jedi apprentice, and was fairly certain that she didn’t look much better. Master Windu kept giving them pitying looks like he couldn’t remember why he had decided to knight her in the first place, even though her knighthood was some five years past.
They slunk out of the Council chamber as soon as they were dismissed, Obi-Wan trying discreetly to wring water out of her hair. They squelched their way back to her apartments, garnering pitying looks from passing Jedi and younglings and a flat-out guffaw from Quinlan Vos, who stopped mid-lecture to his Padawan to say, “Hey, Obi-Wan, there’s some politician looking for you.”
Obi-Wan managed to keep from saying out loud that the Supreme Chancellor could go hang, since Anakin actually liked the man for some reason, and instead inquired wearily, “Who? When?”
“Some woman, and just now. I sent her up to your rooms because I’d heard your transport had just come in, but if I’d known you looked like that, I would have told her to come back later,” he added, giving Obi-Wan’s soaked robes a significant look.
“Fancy being a bit more specific?”
“Sure,” he said, warming to his subject. “Young, pretty, brunette, fancy hair, said she knew you from –” He hesitated a beat, then went on, “– Naboo.”
“Padmé!” Anakin burst out, bouncing up on the balls of his feet.
“Yeah, that was what she said,” Quin said comfortably, while his Padawan gave Anakin an astonished look, as if she couldn’t believe that any Jedi would make that kind of outburst. “Padmé Amidala of Naboo.”
“What’s she doing on Coruscant?” Anakin demanded. “Is something wrong on Naboo?”
“He does know that she was asking for Master Kenobi, not him, right?” Aayla Secura muttered to her Master.
“Queen Jamillia appointed Padmé to the Galactic Senate last month,” Obi-Wan explained, wringing out her long sleeves on Quin’s boots. “The pirate captain was attempting to secure my hand in marriage at the time, so I didn’t think it necessary to inform you.”
“You’ve got to tell me this story sometime, Obi-Wan,” Quin said happily.
“Only if you’re buying the drinks,” Obi-Wan said with feeling. “Come on, Anakin. Thanks for letting me know about the senator, Quin.”
“Hey, feel free to send me any other pretty women you know my way, Obi-Wan,” Quin grinned.
The prospect of seeing Padmé Amidala again brought Anakin out of his doldrums, and he spent the rest of the walk back to her apartments chattering nervously and excitedly about Padmé.
“I haven’t seen her since I was just a kid,” he confided anxiously as Obi-Wan depressed the control for the door. “What if –” He went silent and scarlet as the door slid open.
Padmé Amidala had been sitting in a chair by the window, but she stood up at the sound of the door, turning with a smile. “Obi-Wan!” she said. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss you. Chancellor Palpatine told me that you were scheduled to arrive back on Coruscant today, I hope that this isn’t too much of an imposition.”
“Not at all, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, bowing and then submitting to being kissed on each cheek. “It’s wonderful to see you again. You remember my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, of course –”
“Little Ani?” Padmé said, smiling as Anakin made a hasty bow. “You’ve grown!”
Anakin blurted out something so painfully awkward that Obi-Wan felt embarrassed on his behalf. She discarded her soaked cloak with a sigh of relief, hanging it on a hook where it continued to drip on the tile.
“Anakin and I have been on assignment on Derith Nahar,” she explained, when Anakin ran out of terrible flattery and fell silent. “Get out of your wet things before you catch a chill, my young Padawan,” she added.
“Master Kenobi, I’m sure that you’re tired after such a long mission, but I was hoping you’d come to dinner with me,” Padmé said, with a faint hint of color in her cheeks.
“We’d love to,” Anakin said immediately, almost dropping his cloak. “Wouldn’t we, Master?”
“You’re welcome to join us, Ani, but –”
“You have your post-mission report to do,” Obi-Wan intervened swiftly. “And you have to make sure you’re caught up before you go back to classes tomorrow. Now that she’s a senator, Padmé will be on Coruscant quite often, I’m sure. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. Although,” she added, “you might have to give up one of your lunches with the Supreme Chancellor to do so.”
Anakin’s gaze dropped. “Yes, Master.”
“Do you mind waiting five minutes, Senator?” Obi-Wan asked. “Anakin and I went straight from our transport to the Council, and I have six weeks of mud and engine oil in my robes. I’m not really appropriate for polite company.”
“Oh, of course,” Padmé said. “I’m sure Ani and I can start some of that catching up.”
“I won’t take long,” Obi-Wan said, ducking into her bedroom. She took the fastest shower of her life, toweling her hair dry before pulling on a new set of blissfully-clean robes. She braided her damp hair quickly and pinned it up, then sat down on the edge of her bed to pull on a different pair of boots and switch her lightsaber from her old belt to the clean one. When she emerged, snatching up a dry cloak, Anakin was flirting clumsily with Padmé, who was clearly under no illusions regarding his intentions.
“That was quick,” she said, looking slightly relieved as Obi-Wan shrugged into her cloak. Obi-Wan could sympathize; Anakin’s flirtations were generally well meant but poorly executed.
“Jedi are trained to be ready to go at a moment’s notice,” Obi-Wan said. “Ready, Senator?”
Padmé retrieved her coat from the hook she’d hung it on while Anakin looked desolately after them. “Have a nice evening, Master, Padmé,” he compromised finally, even though Obi-Wan could sense a faint hint of resentment from him. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“My apprentice, not my mother,” Obi-Wan reminded him as Padmé preceded her out into the corridor. “Try and get some rest, Anakin.”
“He’s not at all what I expected,” Padmé observed after the door had shut behind Obi-Wan.
“Well, he’s a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her robes. “We specialize in thwarting expectations – what did you expect, anyway?”
“From your stories?” Her mouth twitched a little, amused.
“Point taken, Senator,” Obi-Wan said; she and Padmé had kept up a correspondence after she and Anakin had left Naboo, and Padmé had been privy to more than one rant about Anakin in the years since, though Obi-Wan had thought she’d kept it fairly low key. “He’s not that bad.”
Padmé bestowed a smile on a passing Quinlan Vos, who had apparently made another circle of the wing to see the outcome of their meeting. Aayla gave Obi-Wan a long-suffering look; Obi-Wan would have taken it more seriously if she hadn’t know that she and Quin were as well-suited to each other as two halves of a whole. “He’s still the same sweet Ani.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you had to live with him,” Obi-Wan said, then passed a hand over her face. “I shouldn’t say that; I don’t mean it. Anakin’s a better Padawan than I am a Master. But I’m sure you don’t want to talk about Anakin. How long have you been on Coruscant?”
“Just a few weeks now, when the new Senate session began. Senator Organa of Alderaan and Senator Mothma of Chandrila have taken me under their wing; it’s quite an experience –”
They talked idly on their way down to the visitor landing platform, where Padmé’s driver was waiting in a covered speeder. She and Obi-Wan slid into the back seat, Padmé giving instructions to her driver.
“I feel honor-bound to tell you that there’s a very real possibility that I may fall asleep,” Obi-Wan told her apologetically. “Our transport wasn’t very congenial so far as getting a good night’s rest goes, and before that, well – it’s a long story.”
“Don’t worry,” Padmé said, and smiled. “If you pass out, you can stay with me tonight and go back to the Jedi Temple in the morning.”
“Anakin would have a fit,” Obi-Wan sighed.
*
Anakin did, indeed, have a fit.
Obi-Wan made it through most of dinner, but the dessert course proved to be too much for her, and she nodded nearly nodded off into the rosewater custard, when Padmé roused her up and helped her into a bedroom. Obi-Wan managed to get her boots and her belt off before falling asleep.
She woke up to bright sunlight streaming across the bed and the frantic buzzing of her comlink. Obi-Wan called it into her hand and said, “This is Kenobi,” trying to remember where she was.
“Master, where are you?” Anakin demanded, sounding on the edge of hysteria. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come rescue you?”
“Please don’t,” Obi-Wan said, rolling over onto her back. “I’m at Senator Amidala’s apartment.”
“You’re what?”
“Go to class, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and shut the comlink off on his outraged squawk. It immediately beeped at her again, because Anakin had never learned to leave well enough alone; Obi-Wan thumbed it on again and added, “Meditate, Anakin, and then go to class; you must be projecting strongly enough to send half the Temple into hysterics,” before shutting it off.
She sat up and looked around. It was a bedroom very much of the sort she’d used in Theed six years ago; the architecture was Coruscanti, but the décor was Naboo, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows against one wall that revealed the cityscape below. Obi-Wan had fallen asleep on top of the covers; someone had folded her cloak neatly on the trunk at the foot of the bed, with her utility belt on top of it and her lightsaber within reach. She leaned down to pull her boots on, smoothing the worst of the wrinkles out of her robes as she buckled on her belt. Outside the room she could hear voices; she followed them out into the hallway and onto the verandah, where she found Padmé having breakfast with a stranger that Obi-Wan remembered vaguely from the HoloNews column on the new season’s senators.
Both of them looked up at her approach, and Padmé smiled. “Sleep well, Obi-Wan?”
“Very much, thank you,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with your friend?”
He rose to take her hand. “I’m Rush Clovis, the Senator from Scipio. And you are –”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi. A pleasure to meet you, Senator.”
“A Jedi Knight,” he said, glancing at the lightsaber on her belt and sounding impressed. “I wasn’t aware you were so familiar with the Jedi, Senator Amidala.”
“Obi-Wan and I are old friends,” Padmé explained. “She was one of the Jedi Knights assigned to help end the Trade Federation’s occupation of Naboo when I was queen.” She indicated a chair at the table, and Obi-Wan slid into the seat. A droid immediately came up to pour her a cup of mandelberry juice.
“Oh, yes, I heard about that. Terrible affair,” Clovis drawled. “I remember hearing that a Jedi Knight was killed there; is that true?”
“My former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan said, with the faint, familiar pang that always accompanied the memory. She ran a finger down the condensation on the side of her cup. “His death was a great blow to the Order, but it was the will of the Force.”
Clovis seemed unaffected by her personal tragedy, but he perked up a little at the mention of the Force. “You know, Master Kenobi, I believe you’re the first Jedi I’ve ever met. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me any of your –” He wriggled his fingers. “– Jedi tricks.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “They’re not tricks.”
“But do they exist?”
Padmé and Obi-Wan glanced at each other. “Master Kenobi just woke up,” Padmé began.
Qui-Gon had always told her that her pride was one of her weaknesses; Obi-Wan was sure that it was, but it meant that she and Anakin had something in common. She wasn’t about to let anyone malign the Jedi Order. She put her cup down and tipped the first two fingers of her right hand up, raising the fruit bowl at the center of the table a foot into the air. She lifted her left hand, sending each piece of fruit up, spinning clockwise in the air above the bowl. She blinked once, the pattern set in her mind, and sent the fruit spiraling upwards, floating a piece to each of their plates before letting the rest of it settle back into the bowl, lowering it back to the table with a faint thump.
Clovis applauded. “Nice trick.”
Padmé, who had seen Jedi using the Force in combat, rolled her eyes slightly.
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said dryly, slicing the fruit up into bite-sized pieces.
“Doesn’t seem very practical, though.”
Six years ago Obi-Wan might have told him that the Force could pull starships out of space if the Jedi was strong enough, but today she forbore from saying as much and just shrugged. She had the feeling that Clovis probably wouldn’t believe her anyway.
She stayed through breakfast, then Padmé walked her down to the speeder platform. “I’m sorry about Senator Clovis,” she apologized. “He just dropped by this morning and it would have been rude to send him away – I hope you didn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Obi-Wan said. “I ought to be the one apologizing for putting you out by staying the night –”
“Don’t bother, what else are friends for?”
Obi-Wan’s comlink buzzed again. She took it off her belt and frowned at it. “Anakin’s been comming me all morning,” she said. “And probably most of last night too. Blast the boy, I told him I was fine and to go to class.”
Padmé smiled. “It’s good to know that you two are so fond of each other.”
“Anakin forgets that he isn’t my maiden aunt,” Obi-Wan said, rolling her eyes. “Although maybe he thinks he’s yours, who knows? But yes. We have proven to be very well-suited to each other.” She slid into the back of a speeder as one of the Naboo drivers held the door open for her.
“Would you be averse to doing this again sometime?” Padmé said hopefully. “I’m sure you must be very busy; I am too, but –”
“Without such an abrupt end to the evening, I hope,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I have to be ready to leave Coruscant at a moment’s notice, but Anakin and I are due some downtime, if only because he still has Temple classes. I’d love to.”
“Wonderful,” Padmé said, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek. “And Ani and I can have lunch sometime, too. That ought to please him.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Obi-Wan said with feeling. “Sometime in the next five years I may even stop hearing about it.”
Padmé laughed and closed the speeder door, and Obi-Wan settled back, pulling her hood up over her face as they departed 500 Republica. A good dinner and a full night’s rest had done a lot to restore her after the grueling six weeks she’d just had – the pirates had been the least of it – and even aside from Clovis’s polite disdain for the Jedi, Obi-Wan felt more or less at peace with the universe. This feeling lasted approximately until she reached the speeder platform at the Temple and found Anakin waiting for her, his arms crossed over his chest. He came up to meet her, trying to emit dignity but mostly succeeding in sending out waves of dismay to everyone on the landing platform. Obi-Wan sighed and prepared herself for well-meaning lectures about keeping her Padawan’s emotions in check from every other Master in the Order.
“I thought I told you to go to class,” she said after the speeder had left.
“I did!” Anakin protested. “And then Master Diath told me to leave because my rogue emotions were disrupting everyone else’s studies.”
They began walking back towards the entrance to the Temple, automatically falling in step. “Did he actually say ‘rogue emotions’?” Obi-Wan inquired curiously. If he had, it would certainly have been justified; Anakin was projecting distress to anyone Force-sensitive within twenty feet. At least his shields were good enough that he hadn’t shared his hysterics with the entire Temple.
He nodded. “He also said to tell you that I need to work on my control.”
“You don’t say,” Obi-Wan said, touching a finger to the back of his wrist and using the physical contact to strengthen his shields, even though she could already sense his distress evening out into curiosity and faint irritation. “Did you actually get any rest last night?”
“Until I woke up and you still weren’t back.” He gave her a suspicious look. “What were you and Padmé doing last night, anyway?”
“An orgy with Twi’lek strippers, deathsticks for all comers, and the Corellian ale flowing, of course,” Obi-Wan told him. “It ran on a little long.”
Anakin’s mouth worked silently.
“Or we had dinner and I fell asleep during dessert because we haven’t had a chance to rest in more than a month, Padawan, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, I know you don’t like deathsticks,” Anakin said eventually. “Or strippers. Though you are a little fond of Corellian ale. Not that Padmé would do something like that, obviously.”
“Your faith in me is touching. And I like strippers just fine, thank you.”
Obi-Wan could see Anakin process this statement, his eyes glazing over for a second at the implications, then discard it. “We just spent three days chained to a ceiling!” he protested. “I think a little paranoia is justified.”
“All right, I’ll give you that,” Obi-Wan said after a moment’s consideration. “What would you have done if I had said, ‘Yes, I’ve been kidnapped, I need you to come and rescue me?’”
Anakin opened his mouth to retort, then realized that she’d been serious and went silent for a moment, thinking. “Well, I would have come and gotten you, obviously. I would have traced the signal on your comlink to find out where you were, then I’d get your spare lightsaber and go after you in a speeder. And tell someone at the Temple, I guess.”
“What if I’d been taken off-planet?”
He hesitated. “I’d still be able to trace your signal, but I’d have to requisition a starship. And tell the Council.”
“That’s good,” Obi-Wan said. “But what are you forgetting?”
“Finding out who’s responsible?” he hazarded. “Oh, um, if you were with Padmé I’d want to check with her or her guards, to see if she was safe or if you’d been taken on your way back to the Temple or something. Because it’s more likely that someone would be after a Senator than a Jedi, and she might have been the target, not you.”
“Very good. Now let’s hope you never have to put that to the test,” Obi-Wan said. “Besides Master Diath’s, do you have any other classes today?”
Anakin shook his head. “Master Saa was called away on assignment and they haven’t found a substitute yet.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” she compromised finally. “I should have commed you to let you know I was staying the night at Senator Amidala’s.”
Anakin gave her a look that said clearly that she really, really should have and didn’t say anything in response.
As a better apology, Obi-Wan added, “Let’s go run the obstacle course.”
That cheered Anakin up immediately.
*
“Running the obstacle course alone in the middle of the night?” Quinlan Vos inquired. “In the dark? Without your lightsaber? Now that has to be the sign of a disturbed mind.”
Obi-Wan swung herself up, landing in a crouch on the slender width of the pole, and dove sideways to avoid a barrage of laser bolts, catching herself with one hand and turning her fall into a smooth leap to the next beam. “On a mission we don’t always have the luxury of having all the advantages.”
She tossed herself into a backflip, laser bolts – set to sting rather than to stun or kill – passing beneath the smooth arc of her back, and landed in a handstand on a beam a few feet higher up, glancing down at the shadowed figure of her friend before moving again as the wall-mounted blasters adjusted their aim.
“It’s a good way to get yourself injured.”
“Good thing you’re here to catch me, then.” Obi-Wan flung herself sideways, bouncing off the wall and tucking herself into a roll that carried her upwards, landing flat-footed on a rounded beam that almost sent her tumbling to the floor, though she pulled herself up at the last minute, a stray laser bolt clipping her left elbow.
Quin crossed his arms over his chest, peering up at her. “Padawan problems?” he guessed. “Bad dreams again?”
“Neither.”
“Your precog peaking again?”
“If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times,” Obi-Wan snapped, irritated. “My ability to sense the future is not as strong as you and the Council think. I’m no different than any other Jedi when it comes to – blast!”
She had misjudged her leap, her fingers slipping from the beam as her numbed left arm failed her, and was now falling through mid-air. Quinlan thrust his hand out, the Force curving around Obi-Wan and softening her fall as she landed in a crouch on the mats.
“End simulation,” she said, straightening up.
The wall-mounted blasters stilled as the lights in the high-vaulted room came back on. Obi-Wan rubbed her left elbow, still numb where she’d been clipped by the sting blast. “Thanks,” she said, as Quin came over to her.
“Any time,” he said. “So – if it’s not your Padawan, and it’s not your nightmares, and it’s not the Force, then what’s eating at you this late? That pretty senator of yours?”
“I wish.” Obi-Wan twisted her braid around her wrist, frowning. “Dooku of Serenno is on Coruscant.”
“The same Dooku who left the Order six years ago?” Quin questioned.
Obi-Wan nodded. “Qui-Gon’s old Master. He tried to contact me once before, just after Qui-Gon died, but I was – unavailable. The next thing I knew, he’d left the Order and publicly denounced the Jedi. And then this evening he sent me this holo message.” She pulled the holodisc out of her pocket and depressed the play button.
“Master Kenobi, I believe that we have much to discuss,” Count Dooku’s recording said. “If you are amenable to a meeting, I will be on Coruscant for the next few weeks. I would very much like to speak with you.”
She slipped it back into her pocket. “It’s nonsense, of course. I have no use for a man who abandons his responsibilities to the Jedi Order, much less one who has the temerity to then denounce the Order to the Senate.”
Quin frowned. “What does he want with you?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said. “And I can’t say that I really care.”
“But it’s upset you.”
She glanced aside. “I have a bad feeling. But it’s nothing, I’m sure.”
Quinlan touched her arm. “Listen, let me put out some feelers for you. I can at least find out why he’s here on Coruscant. And if you let me take this to Tholme – well, he keeps a pretty close eye on Dooku, since the guy used to be a Jedi Master.” He put his hand out.
Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, then put the disc into his palm. He closed his fingers around it, then put it into his pocket. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he reassured her.
“Probably,” Obi-Wan agreed, and didn’t know how to tell him that every time she watched that message the hair rose on the back of her neck and the Force twisted around her, uncertain and confused, warning her about a danger that made no sense. “Look, I trust you, and I trust Tholme, but could you do me a favor and not tell anyone else about this? I’m in enough hot water with the Council over the Derith Nahar affair, I’d rather keep it quiet than have them think I can’t handle myself.”
“Sure, Obi-Wan,” he said. “I thought the Derith Nahar mission went well?”
“There was a – thing,” Obi-Wan said, and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Anakin and I had it under control; I just don’t know if the Council sees it that way. And there was the other day where he couldn’t get hold of me and panicked – you know there are still some members of the Council that think that Anakin should never have become a Jedi, and others that believe that even if he did, I shouldn’t have been the one to train him. It’s just – the way Qui-Gon died, my Knighthood, this ridiculous story about Anakin being the Chosen One…” She let the words trail off. “You’re a good friend, Quin.”
He took her hands. “You’re a good Jedi, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon trained you well, and the Council knows you’re doing the best that you can with Anakin, the same way I am with Aayla.”
She conjured up the ghost of a smile. “I know I’m a good Jedi, Quin. I don’t need you to tell me that, even though I appreciate it. Anakin is difficult, but…we are very well-suited to each other. Not the way that Qui-Gon and I were, or the way that Tholme and you were –”
“Both lying bastards, you mean?”
She grinned back. “And here I was going to be polite.” She twisted her braid between her fingers. “Sometimes I think that maybe the Council should have assigned Anakin another Master, but – I promised Qui-Gon I’d train him. And it feels…right. Like the two of us together is what the Force wants. I didn’t choose him as my Padawan, Quin. Not the way a normal Jedi does. If Qui-Gon was still alive he’d know what that means.”
“But if Qui-Gon had lived, you would never have been Anakin’s Master,” Quinlan pointed out, maddeningly reasonable.
“Yes, and if he’d lived, then Dooku would never have left the Order and I wouldn’t be getting messages from him,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Master Yoda would say that it’s all the will of the Force. I know it is, and sometimes it even seems right, but – I don’t know, Quin. Maybe the real truth about being a Jedi is knowing that nothing’s ever really right.”
“That’s not the truth about being a Jedi, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan said. “That’s the truth about growing up.”
Obi-Wan smiled and ducked her head. “That’s true too. Well, I know why I’m up at an unseemly hour of the night, I won’t bother asking why you are, since I probably don’t want to know. But since you’re here ¬–” She tipped her head back at the course. “Think you can keep up with me?”
“Are we still doing this the hard way? In the dark? No lightsabers? Flying laser bolts? Obi-Wan,” he said, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and putting it down beside hers, “it’s like you don’t even know me.”
“Computer, set simulation Theta Alderaan Two-Two-Three variation Shen,” Obi-Wan said, rolling her shoulders.
“Simulation set,” the computer replied harmonically, the lights dimming.
Quinlan grinned at Obi-Wan, settling into a crouch. “Begin simulation.”
Dawn was just beginning to appear over the horizon when they finished, and Obi-Wan was laughing and nursing several scrapes and forming bruises where she’d misjudged her swings or fallen before catching herself with the Force. By the time they’d finished the fifth run of the course several other Jedi were beginning to filter into the room, settling down at the side of the room to watch her and Quinlan go at it. They garnered a round of applause as they made it back to the floor, Obi-Wan deflecting a laser bolt with her bare hand and a twist of the Force before Quin ended the simulation.
Obi-Wan grinned at them, accepting a towel and a glass of water from Kit Fisto as Aayla Secura did the same for her Master. Quin stepped towards her, squeezing her elbow, and muttered in her ear, “I’ll talk to Tholme about Dooku.”
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said, equally soft, as she picked up their lightsabers and handed Quin’s to him. She toweled her face dry and tossed the towel back at Kit.
The Temple was still quiet as she made her way back through mostly empty hallways to her apartments. Anakin was still asleep when she ducked her head into his bedroom, sprawled gracelessly across his entire bed with a datapad discarded on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan didn’t mean to pry into his mind, but the Master-Padawan bond was open between them and she got a quick flash of Padmé Amidala’s pale face in his dreams before she drew up her own shields, motioning the door closed.
She settled down in an armchair in their tiny living room, flicking a finger at the holocomm to turn it on. She’d given the disc to Quin, but the message was saved on the holocomm too.
“Master Kenobi, I believe that we have much to discuss,” said the man who had left the Jedi Order without so much as a word of explanation. “If you are amenable to a meeting, I will be on Coruscant for the next few weeks. I would very much like to speak with you.”
*
tbc
The first time that Obi-Wan Kenobi saw Padmé Amidala since she had left Theed with a new apprentice and the dubious honor of being the first Padawan in nearly a century to gain her Knighthood after the death of her Master and a trial in combat, she and Anakin had just returned from hunting down airship pirates on Derith Nahar. They had come straight from the transport hangar to the Council chamber, and afterwards all Obi-Wan wanted was the longest, hottest bath she could manage, preferably with her apprentice on the other side of a locked door from her. For all that Obi-Wan would cheerfully lay her life down for Anakin, sometimes she had to forcibly remind herself that smothering him in his sleep would probably be frowned upon by the Jedi Council. It had been raining on Coruscant when they arrived, so that they’d spent their debriefing slowly dripping puddles of water onto the floor of the Council chamber; Obi-Wan was uncomfortably aware that Anakin looked more like a drowned womprat than he did a Jedi apprentice, and was fairly certain that she didn’t look much better. Master Windu kept giving them pitying looks like he couldn’t remember why he had decided to knight her in the first place, even though her knighthood was some five years past.
They slunk out of the Council chamber as soon as they were dismissed, Obi-Wan trying discreetly to wring water out of her hair. They squelched their way back to her apartments, garnering pitying looks from passing Jedi and younglings and a flat-out guffaw from Quinlan Vos, who stopped mid-lecture to his Padawan to say, “Hey, Obi-Wan, there’s some politician looking for you.”
Obi-Wan managed to keep from saying out loud that the Supreme Chancellor could go hang, since Anakin actually liked the man for some reason, and instead inquired wearily, “Who? When?”
“Some woman, and just now. I sent her up to your rooms because I’d heard your transport had just come in, but if I’d known you looked like that, I would have told her to come back later,” he added, giving Obi-Wan’s soaked robes a significant look.
“Fancy being a bit more specific?”
“Sure,” he said, warming to his subject. “Young, pretty, brunette, fancy hair, said she knew you from –” He hesitated a beat, then went on, “– Naboo.”
“Padmé!” Anakin burst out, bouncing up on the balls of his feet.
“Yeah, that was what she said,” Quin said comfortably, while his Padawan gave Anakin an astonished look, as if she couldn’t believe that any Jedi would make that kind of outburst. “Padmé Amidala of Naboo.”
“What’s she doing on Coruscant?” Anakin demanded. “Is something wrong on Naboo?”
“He does know that she was asking for Master Kenobi, not him, right?” Aayla Secura muttered to her Master.
“Queen Jamillia appointed Padmé to the Galactic Senate last month,” Obi-Wan explained, wringing out her long sleeves on Quin’s boots. “The pirate captain was attempting to secure my hand in marriage at the time, so I didn’t think it necessary to inform you.”
“You’ve got to tell me this story sometime, Obi-Wan,” Quin said happily.
“Only if you’re buying the drinks,” Obi-Wan said with feeling. “Come on, Anakin. Thanks for letting me know about the senator, Quin.”
“Hey, feel free to send me any other pretty women you know my way, Obi-Wan,” Quin grinned.
The prospect of seeing Padmé Amidala again brought Anakin out of his doldrums, and he spent the rest of the walk back to her apartments chattering nervously and excitedly about Padmé.
“I haven’t seen her since I was just a kid,” he confided anxiously as Obi-Wan depressed the control for the door. “What if –” He went silent and scarlet as the door slid open.
Padmé Amidala had been sitting in a chair by the window, but she stood up at the sound of the door, turning with a smile. “Obi-Wan!” she said. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss you. Chancellor Palpatine told me that you were scheduled to arrive back on Coruscant today, I hope that this isn’t too much of an imposition.”
“Not at all, Senator,” Obi-Wan said, bowing and then submitting to being kissed on each cheek. “It’s wonderful to see you again. You remember my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, of course –”
“Little Ani?” Padmé said, smiling as Anakin made a hasty bow. “You’ve grown!”
Anakin blurted out something so painfully awkward that Obi-Wan felt embarrassed on his behalf. She discarded her soaked cloak with a sigh of relief, hanging it on a hook where it continued to drip on the tile.
“Anakin and I have been on assignment on Derith Nahar,” she explained, when Anakin ran out of terrible flattery and fell silent. “Get out of your wet things before you catch a chill, my young Padawan,” she added.
“Master Kenobi, I’m sure that you’re tired after such a long mission, but I was hoping you’d come to dinner with me,” Padmé said, with a faint hint of color in her cheeks.
“We’d love to,” Anakin said immediately, almost dropping his cloak. “Wouldn’t we, Master?”
“You’re welcome to join us, Ani, but –”
“You have your post-mission report to do,” Obi-Wan intervened swiftly. “And you have to make sure you’re caught up before you go back to classes tomorrow. Now that she’s a senator, Padmé will be on Coruscant quite often, I’m sure. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up later. Although,” she added, “you might have to give up one of your lunches with the Supreme Chancellor to do so.”
Anakin’s gaze dropped. “Yes, Master.”
“Do you mind waiting five minutes, Senator?” Obi-Wan asked. “Anakin and I went straight from our transport to the Council, and I have six weeks of mud and engine oil in my robes. I’m not really appropriate for polite company.”
“Oh, of course,” Padmé said. “I’m sure Ani and I can start some of that catching up.”
“I won’t take long,” Obi-Wan said, ducking into her bedroom. She took the fastest shower of her life, toweling her hair dry before pulling on a new set of blissfully-clean robes. She braided her damp hair quickly and pinned it up, then sat down on the edge of her bed to pull on a different pair of boots and switch her lightsaber from her old belt to the clean one. When she emerged, snatching up a dry cloak, Anakin was flirting clumsily with Padmé, who was clearly under no illusions regarding his intentions.
“That was quick,” she said, looking slightly relieved as Obi-Wan shrugged into her cloak. Obi-Wan could sympathize; Anakin’s flirtations were generally well meant but poorly executed.
“Jedi are trained to be ready to go at a moment’s notice,” Obi-Wan said. “Ready, Senator?”
Padmé retrieved her coat from the hook she’d hung it on while Anakin looked desolately after them. “Have a nice evening, Master, Padmé,” he compromised finally, even though Obi-Wan could sense a faint hint of resentment from him. “Don’t stay out too late.”
“My apprentice, not my mother,” Obi-Wan reminded him as Padmé preceded her out into the corridor. “Try and get some rest, Anakin.”
“He’s not at all what I expected,” Padmé observed after the door had shut behind Obi-Wan.
“Well, he’s a Jedi,” Obi-Wan said, tucking her hands into the sleeves of her robes. “We specialize in thwarting expectations – what did you expect, anyway?”
“From your stories?” Her mouth twitched a little, amused.
“Point taken, Senator,” Obi-Wan said; she and Padmé had kept up a correspondence after she and Anakin had left Naboo, and Padmé had been privy to more than one rant about Anakin in the years since, though Obi-Wan had thought she’d kept it fairly low key. “He’s not that bad.”
Padmé bestowed a smile on a passing Quinlan Vos, who had apparently made another circle of the wing to see the outcome of their meeting. Aayla gave Obi-Wan a long-suffering look; Obi-Wan would have taken it more seriously if she hadn’t know that she and Quin were as well-suited to each other as two halves of a whole. “He’s still the same sweet Ani.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you had to live with him,” Obi-Wan said, then passed a hand over her face. “I shouldn’t say that; I don’t mean it. Anakin’s a better Padawan than I am a Master. But I’m sure you don’t want to talk about Anakin. How long have you been on Coruscant?”
“Just a few weeks now, when the new Senate session began. Senator Organa of Alderaan and Senator Mothma of Chandrila have taken me under their wing; it’s quite an experience –”
They talked idly on their way down to the visitor landing platform, where Padmé’s driver was waiting in a covered speeder. She and Obi-Wan slid into the back seat, Padmé giving instructions to her driver.
“I feel honor-bound to tell you that there’s a very real possibility that I may fall asleep,” Obi-Wan told her apologetically. “Our transport wasn’t very congenial so far as getting a good night’s rest goes, and before that, well – it’s a long story.”
“Don’t worry,” Padmé said, and smiled. “If you pass out, you can stay with me tonight and go back to the Jedi Temple in the morning.”
“Anakin would have a fit,” Obi-Wan sighed.
*
Anakin did, indeed, have a fit.
Obi-Wan made it through most of dinner, but the dessert course proved to be too much for her, and she nodded nearly nodded off into the rosewater custard, when Padmé roused her up and helped her into a bedroom. Obi-Wan managed to get her boots and her belt off before falling asleep.
She woke up to bright sunlight streaming across the bed and the frantic buzzing of her comlink. Obi-Wan called it into her hand and said, “This is Kenobi,” trying to remember where she was.
“Master, where are you?” Anakin demanded, sounding on the edge of hysteria. “Are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come rescue you?”
“Please don’t,” Obi-Wan said, rolling over onto her back. “I’m at Senator Amidala’s apartment.”
“You’re what?”
“Go to class, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said, and shut the comlink off on his outraged squawk. It immediately beeped at her again, because Anakin had never learned to leave well enough alone; Obi-Wan thumbed it on again and added, “Meditate, Anakin, and then go to class; you must be projecting strongly enough to send half the Temple into hysterics,” before shutting it off.
She sat up and looked around. It was a bedroom very much of the sort she’d used in Theed six years ago; the architecture was Coruscanti, but the décor was Naboo, and there were floor-to-ceiling windows against one wall that revealed the cityscape below. Obi-Wan had fallen asleep on top of the covers; someone had folded her cloak neatly on the trunk at the foot of the bed, with her utility belt on top of it and her lightsaber within reach. She leaned down to pull her boots on, smoothing the worst of the wrinkles out of her robes as she buckled on her belt. Outside the room she could hear voices; she followed them out into the hallway and onto the verandah, where she found Padmé having breakfast with a stranger that Obi-Wan remembered vaguely from the HoloNews column on the new season’s senators.
Both of them looked up at her approach, and Padmé smiled. “Sleep well, Obi-Wan?”
“Very much, thank you,” Obi-Wan said. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with your friend?”
He rose to take her hand. “I’m Rush Clovis, the Senator from Scipio. And you are –”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi. A pleasure to meet you, Senator.”
“A Jedi Knight,” he said, glancing at the lightsaber on her belt and sounding impressed. “I wasn’t aware you were so familiar with the Jedi, Senator Amidala.”
“Obi-Wan and I are old friends,” Padmé explained. “She was one of the Jedi Knights assigned to help end the Trade Federation’s occupation of Naboo when I was queen.” She indicated a chair at the table, and Obi-Wan slid into the seat. A droid immediately came up to pour her a cup of mandelberry juice.
“Oh, yes, I heard about that. Terrible affair,” Clovis drawled. “I remember hearing that a Jedi Knight was killed there; is that true?”
“My former Master, Qui-Gon Jinn,” Obi-Wan said, with the faint, familiar pang that always accompanied the memory. She ran a finger down the condensation on the side of her cup. “His death was a great blow to the Order, but it was the will of the Force.”
Clovis seemed unaffected by her personal tragedy, but he perked up a little at the mention of the Force. “You know, Master Kenobi, I believe you’re the first Jedi I’ve ever met. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me any of your –” He wriggled his fingers. “– Jedi tricks.”
Obi-Wan frowned. “They’re not tricks.”
“But do they exist?”
Padmé and Obi-Wan glanced at each other. “Master Kenobi just woke up,” Padmé began.
Qui-Gon had always told her that her pride was one of her weaknesses; Obi-Wan was sure that it was, but it meant that she and Anakin had something in common. She wasn’t about to let anyone malign the Jedi Order. She put her cup down and tipped the first two fingers of her right hand up, raising the fruit bowl at the center of the table a foot into the air. She lifted her left hand, sending each piece of fruit up, spinning clockwise in the air above the bowl. She blinked once, the pattern set in her mind, and sent the fruit spiraling upwards, floating a piece to each of their plates before letting the rest of it settle back into the bowl, lowering it back to the table with a faint thump.
Clovis applauded. “Nice trick.”
Padmé, who had seen Jedi using the Force in combat, rolled her eyes slightly.
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said dryly, slicing the fruit up into bite-sized pieces.
“Doesn’t seem very practical, though.”
Six years ago Obi-Wan might have told him that the Force could pull starships out of space if the Jedi was strong enough, but today she forbore from saying as much and just shrugged. She had the feeling that Clovis probably wouldn’t believe her anyway.
She stayed through breakfast, then Padmé walked her down to the speeder platform. “I’m sorry about Senator Clovis,” she apologized. “He just dropped by this morning and it would have been rude to send him away – I hope you didn’t mind.”
“Not at all,” Obi-Wan said. “I ought to be the one apologizing for putting you out by staying the night –”
“Don’t bother, what else are friends for?”
Obi-Wan’s comlink buzzed again. She took it off her belt and frowned at it. “Anakin’s been comming me all morning,” she said. “And probably most of last night too. Blast the boy, I told him I was fine and to go to class.”
Padmé smiled. “It’s good to know that you two are so fond of each other.”
“Anakin forgets that he isn’t my maiden aunt,” Obi-Wan said, rolling her eyes. “Although maybe he thinks he’s yours, who knows? But yes. We have proven to be very well-suited to each other.” She slid into the back of a speeder as one of the Naboo drivers held the door open for her.
“Would you be averse to doing this again sometime?” Padmé said hopefully. “I’m sure you must be very busy; I am too, but –”
“Without such an abrupt end to the evening, I hope,” Obi-Wan agreed. “I have to be ready to leave Coruscant at a moment’s notice, but Anakin and I are due some downtime, if only because he still has Temple classes. I’d love to.”
“Wonderful,” Padmé said, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to Obi-Wan’s cheek. “And Ani and I can have lunch sometime, too. That ought to please him.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Obi-Wan said with feeling. “Sometime in the next five years I may even stop hearing about it.”
Padmé laughed and closed the speeder door, and Obi-Wan settled back, pulling her hood up over her face as they departed 500 Republica. A good dinner and a full night’s rest had done a lot to restore her after the grueling six weeks she’d just had – the pirates had been the least of it – and even aside from Clovis’s polite disdain for the Jedi, Obi-Wan felt more or less at peace with the universe. This feeling lasted approximately until she reached the speeder platform at the Temple and found Anakin waiting for her, his arms crossed over his chest. He came up to meet her, trying to emit dignity but mostly succeeding in sending out waves of dismay to everyone on the landing platform. Obi-Wan sighed and prepared herself for well-meaning lectures about keeping her Padawan’s emotions in check from every other Master in the Order.
“I thought I told you to go to class,” she said after the speeder had left.
“I did!” Anakin protested. “And then Master Diath told me to leave because my rogue emotions were disrupting everyone else’s studies.”
They began walking back towards the entrance to the Temple, automatically falling in step. “Did he actually say ‘rogue emotions’?” Obi-Wan inquired curiously. If he had, it would certainly have been justified; Anakin was projecting distress to anyone Force-sensitive within twenty feet. At least his shields were good enough that he hadn’t shared his hysterics with the entire Temple.
He nodded. “He also said to tell you that I need to work on my control.”
“You don’t say,” Obi-Wan said, touching a finger to the back of his wrist and using the physical contact to strengthen his shields, even though she could already sense his distress evening out into curiosity and faint irritation. “Did you actually get any rest last night?”
“Until I woke up and you still weren’t back.” He gave her a suspicious look. “What were you and Padmé doing last night, anyway?”
“An orgy with Twi’lek strippers, deathsticks for all comers, and the Corellian ale flowing, of course,” Obi-Wan told him. “It ran on a little long.”
Anakin’s mouth worked silently.
“Or we had dinner and I fell asleep during dessert because we haven’t had a chance to rest in more than a month, Padawan, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, I know you don’t like deathsticks,” Anakin said eventually. “Or strippers. Though you are a little fond of Corellian ale. Not that Padmé would do something like that, obviously.”
“Your faith in me is touching. And I like strippers just fine, thank you.”
Obi-Wan could see Anakin process this statement, his eyes glazing over for a second at the implications, then discard it. “We just spent three days chained to a ceiling!” he protested. “I think a little paranoia is justified.”
“All right, I’ll give you that,” Obi-Wan said after a moment’s consideration. “What would you have done if I had said, ‘Yes, I’ve been kidnapped, I need you to come and rescue me?’”
Anakin opened his mouth to retort, then realized that she’d been serious and went silent for a moment, thinking. “Well, I would have come and gotten you, obviously. I would have traced the signal on your comlink to find out where you were, then I’d get your spare lightsaber and go after you in a speeder. And tell someone at the Temple, I guess.”
“What if I’d been taken off-planet?”
He hesitated. “I’d still be able to trace your signal, but I’d have to requisition a starship. And tell the Council.”
“That’s good,” Obi-Wan said. “But what are you forgetting?”
“Finding out who’s responsible?” he hazarded. “Oh, um, if you were with Padmé I’d want to check with her or her guards, to see if she was safe or if you’d been taken on your way back to the Temple or something. Because it’s more likely that someone would be after a Senator than a Jedi, and she might have been the target, not you.”
“Very good. Now let’s hope you never have to put that to the test,” Obi-Wan said. “Besides Master Diath’s, do you have any other classes today?”
Anakin shook his head. “Master Saa was called away on assignment and they haven’t found a substitute yet.”
Obi-Wan nodded. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” she compromised finally. “I should have commed you to let you know I was staying the night at Senator Amidala’s.”
Anakin gave her a look that said clearly that she really, really should have and didn’t say anything in response.
As a better apology, Obi-Wan added, “Let’s go run the obstacle course.”
That cheered Anakin up immediately.
*
“Running the obstacle course alone in the middle of the night?” Quinlan Vos inquired. “In the dark? Without your lightsaber? Now that has to be the sign of a disturbed mind.”
Obi-Wan swung herself up, landing in a crouch on the slender width of the pole, and dove sideways to avoid a barrage of laser bolts, catching herself with one hand and turning her fall into a smooth leap to the next beam. “On a mission we don’t always have the luxury of having all the advantages.”
She tossed herself into a backflip, laser bolts – set to sting rather than to stun or kill – passing beneath the smooth arc of her back, and landed in a handstand on a beam a few feet higher up, glancing down at the shadowed figure of her friend before moving again as the wall-mounted blasters adjusted their aim.
“It’s a good way to get yourself injured.”
“Good thing you’re here to catch me, then.” Obi-Wan flung herself sideways, bouncing off the wall and tucking herself into a roll that carried her upwards, landing flat-footed on a rounded beam that almost sent her tumbling to the floor, though she pulled herself up at the last minute, a stray laser bolt clipping her left elbow.
Quin crossed his arms over his chest, peering up at her. “Padawan problems?” he guessed. “Bad dreams again?”
“Neither.”
“Your precog peaking again?”
“If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times,” Obi-Wan snapped, irritated. “My ability to sense the future is not as strong as you and the Council think. I’m no different than any other Jedi when it comes to – blast!”
She had misjudged her leap, her fingers slipping from the beam as her numbed left arm failed her, and was now falling through mid-air. Quinlan thrust his hand out, the Force curving around Obi-Wan and softening her fall as she landed in a crouch on the mats.
“End simulation,” she said, straightening up.
The wall-mounted blasters stilled as the lights in the high-vaulted room came back on. Obi-Wan rubbed her left elbow, still numb where she’d been clipped by the sting blast. “Thanks,” she said, as Quin came over to her.
“Any time,” he said. “So – if it’s not your Padawan, and it’s not your nightmares, and it’s not the Force, then what’s eating at you this late? That pretty senator of yours?”
“I wish.” Obi-Wan twisted her braid around her wrist, frowning. “Dooku of Serenno is on Coruscant.”
“The same Dooku who left the Order six years ago?” Quin questioned.
Obi-Wan nodded. “Qui-Gon’s old Master. He tried to contact me once before, just after Qui-Gon died, but I was – unavailable. The next thing I knew, he’d left the Order and publicly denounced the Jedi. And then this evening he sent me this holo message.” She pulled the holodisc out of her pocket and depressed the play button.
“Master Kenobi, I believe that we have much to discuss,” Count Dooku’s recording said. “If you are amenable to a meeting, I will be on Coruscant for the next few weeks. I would very much like to speak with you.”
She slipped it back into her pocket. “It’s nonsense, of course. I have no use for a man who abandons his responsibilities to the Jedi Order, much less one who has the temerity to then denounce the Order to the Senate.”
Quin frowned. “What does he want with you?”
“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said. “And I can’t say that I really care.”
“But it’s upset you.”
She glanced aside. “I have a bad feeling. But it’s nothing, I’m sure.”
Quinlan touched her arm. “Listen, let me put out some feelers for you. I can at least find out why he’s here on Coruscant. And if you let me take this to Tholme – well, he keeps a pretty close eye on Dooku, since the guy used to be a Jedi Master.” He put his hand out.
Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment, then put the disc into his palm. He closed his fingers around it, then put it into his pocket. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” he reassured her.
“Probably,” Obi-Wan agreed, and didn’t know how to tell him that every time she watched that message the hair rose on the back of her neck and the Force twisted around her, uncertain and confused, warning her about a danger that made no sense. “Look, I trust you, and I trust Tholme, but could you do me a favor and not tell anyone else about this? I’m in enough hot water with the Council over the Derith Nahar affair, I’d rather keep it quiet than have them think I can’t handle myself.”
“Sure, Obi-Wan,” he said. “I thought the Derith Nahar mission went well?”
“There was a – thing,” Obi-Wan said, and dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “Anakin and I had it under control; I just don’t know if the Council sees it that way. And there was the other day where he couldn’t get hold of me and panicked – you know there are still some members of the Council that think that Anakin should never have become a Jedi, and others that believe that even if he did, I shouldn’t have been the one to train him. It’s just – the way Qui-Gon died, my Knighthood, this ridiculous story about Anakin being the Chosen One…” She let the words trail off. “You’re a good friend, Quin.”
He took her hands. “You’re a good Jedi, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon trained you well, and the Council knows you’re doing the best that you can with Anakin, the same way I am with Aayla.”
She conjured up the ghost of a smile. “I know I’m a good Jedi, Quin. I don’t need you to tell me that, even though I appreciate it. Anakin is difficult, but…we are very well-suited to each other. Not the way that Qui-Gon and I were, or the way that Tholme and you were –”
“Both lying bastards, you mean?”
She grinned back. “And here I was going to be polite.” She twisted her braid between her fingers. “Sometimes I think that maybe the Council should have assigned Anakin another Master, but – I promised Qui-Gon I’d train him. And it feels…right. Like the two of us together is what the Force wants. I didn’t choose him as my Padawan, Quin. Not the way a normal Jedi does. If Qui-Gon was still alive he’d know what that means.”
“But if Qui-Gon had lived, you would never have been Anakin’s Master,” Quinlan pointed out, maddeningly reasonable.
“Yes, and if he’d lived, then Dooku would never have left the Order and I wouldn’t be getting messages from him,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Master Yoda would say that it’s all the will of the Force. I know it is, and sometimes it even seems right, but – I don’t know, Quin. Maybe the real truth about being a Jedi is knowing that nothing’s ever really right.”
“That’s not the truth about being a Jedi, Obi-Wan,” Quinlan said. “That’s the truth about growing up.”
Obi-Wan smiled and ducked her head. “That’s true too. Well, I know why I’m up at an unseemly hour of the night, I won’t bother asking why you are, since I probably don’t want to know. But since you’re here ¬–” She tipped her head back at the course. “Think you can keep up with me?”
“Are we still doing this the hard way? In the dark? No lightsabers? Flying laser bolts? Obi-Wan,” he said, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt and putting it down beside hers, “it’s like you don’t even know me.”
“Computer, set simulation Theta Alderaan Two-Two-Three variation Shen,” Obi-Wan said, rolling her shoulders.
“Simulation set,” the computer replied harmonically, the lights dimming.
Quinlan grinned at Obi-Wan, settling into a crouch. “Begin simulation.”
Dawn was just beginning to appear over the horizon when they finished, and Obi-Wan was laughing and nursing several scrapes and forming bruises where she’d misjudged her swings or fallen before catching herself with the Force. By the time they’d finished the fifth run of the course several other Jedi were beginning to filter into the room, settling down at the side of the room to watch her and Quinlan go at it. They garnered a round of applause as they made it back to the floor, Obi-Wan deflecting a laser bolt with her bare hand and a twist of the Force before Quin ended the simulation.
Obi-Wan grinned at them, accepting a towel and a glass of water from Kit Fisto as Aayla Secura did the same for her Master. Quin stepped towards her, squeezing her elbow, and muttered in her ear, “I’ll talk to Tholme about Dooku.”
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan said, equally soft, as she picked up their lightsabers and handed Quin’s to him. She toweled her face dry and tossed the towel back at Kit.
The Temple was still quiet as she made her way back through mostly empty hallways to her apartments. Anakin was still asleep when she ducked her head into his bedroom, sprawled gracelessly across his entire bed with a datapad discarded on the floor beside him. Obi-Wan didn’t mean to pry into his mind, but the Master-Padawan bond was open between them and she got a quick flash of Padmé Amidala’s pale face in his dreams before she drew up her own shields, motioning the door closed.
She settled down in an armchair in their tiny living room, flicking a finger at the holocomm to turn it on. She’d given the disc to Quin, but the message was saved on the holocomm too.
“Master Kenobi, I believe that we have much to discuss,” said the man who had left the Jedi Order without so much as a word of explanation. “If you are amenable to a meeting, I will be on Coruscant for the next few weeks. I would very much like to speak with you.”
*
tbc