Obi-Wan Kenobi waited in the dark. His hiding place was uncomfortable, but he knew he was being hunted and that his only hope was ambush. So he stayed as still as possible, listening and trying to use the force to feel out a perimeter beyond his hiding place. He sensed nothing. For now he was alone.
He was in the mechanical room of a large shuttle on its way to Coruscant with several diplomats. He and his Master Qui-Gon Jinn were returning to the Jedi temple after eight solid months of service in the field. He was new to this life, not yet fourteen, but Qui-Gon was experienced and had lent stability to what was essentially a wandering existence. Never the less, eight months was a long time. They were both ready for the break, but now Qui-Gon was nowhere to be seen and Obi-Wan was hiding on a condenser platform high up in the bowels of the ship.
The ship was heavily armored and very fast. Even on his high perch, the engines throbbed beneath his feet, making it difficult to concentrate. He hadn't anticipated the distraction when he'd chosen his hiding place. It was a mistake he was going to have to live with however. His opponent had been close on his heels. He didn't have much time.
He heard the hinges of the door creak and a beam of light passed along the floor. Faint footsteps. Then he felt it, a presence so strong with the force it nearly floored him. He could feel his opponent's mind, much more in tune with the force than he, better trained, and stronger. His plan had worked so far, his adversary had sought him out, been lured to his hiding place. The element of surprise could give him the upper hand, at least in the beginning. But this wouldn't be easy. He took a deep breath, calmed his nerves as the footsteps grew louder, and leapt down from his hiding place - lightsabre lit and ready for battle.
His attacker's lightsabre was up and blocking before Obi-Wan's feet hit the ground. Too slow again, Obi-Wan thought, but there was no time to dwell. For a few moments the two of them were locked in struggle. He was almost enjoying himself, the times he could sense his assailant's intentions seconds before they happened and was ready with a counter move, the feel of his lightsabre in his hands meeting the blade of another. But he was wearing down. What had been a stalemate, an evenly matched duel was becoming less and less in Obi-Wan's favor. He had to leave. His moment was over and retreat was his only option.
There was only one exit from the room and his opponent stood in the way. Obi-Wan was on the defensive now, blocking attack after attack. This was the classic Jedi way of fighting, to wear your opponent down by simply refusing to yield, yet not wasting energy on attacks. But this time it was not working. He was on the defensive and was growing more exhausted by the second.
His opponent was tall and the ceiling was low. There was no chance Obi-Wan could leap over his head without giving himself a nasty knock at the same time. He tried to run around the side, but was blocked. There was no choice. He dove between his attacker's legs and was out the door. He thought he heard laughter but he didn't wait to see.
He had to think of a new strategy. Hiding almost hadn't worked that time. This time he would have to prepare a better offense. There were only so many places on the ship where he could do such a thing. The best place would be his and Qui-Gon's quarters.
***
Obi-Wan stepped into the room cautiously. It was empty. Good. He locked the door. Now, it was time for a plan. His mind considered and rejected what seemed like a thousand ideas. All of them were too impulsive, too immature. Qui-Gon accused him of being too stubborn and headstrong, too eager to fight when there were better and more peaceful ways to resolve a conflict. He wanted to impress his master, do something worthy of his praise.
But there wasn't much to work with. In the end, Obi-Wan chose to sit on his bunk and meditate. It was possible that with all the compartments on the ship, his opponent would not bother searching them. He started to relax.
He was wrong about the compartments. The door swung open with a crash. Obi-Wan jumped to his feet, lightsabre ready. His opponent swung and Obi-Wan met the blow and held it. He tried to stay unpredictable and draw the fight to different parts of the room when he could. There was little furniture but he tried to lure his attacker into tripping over it whenever possible. He seemed to have the upper hand for a longer time in this duel. Meditating had helped - he felt light and sure on his feet as he and his opponent fought. Yet Obi-Wan knew he couldn't keep this up forever.
Once again he was in a room with only one door. Escape would be more difficult this time; he could not try the same trick twice. He had trapped himself a second time and now it was beginning to look hopeless. He was about to surrender when he remembered a detail that would save him. The room had a ladder running up the wall in the far corner that led to a small maintenance hatch for the room's environmental controls. He could fit through the hatch and use the ship's ventilation system to move around. His opponent wouldn't be able to fit through the hatch and that would buy Obi-Wan the time he needed.
He leapt across the room and started climbing. It was when he reached the hatch that he realized in horror that he'd made a terrible judgment. His back was to his attacker, he had one hand on the top rung, and in the other he held his lightsabre. He needed a third hand to work the latch for the portal. He now faced a choice, drop his weapon to escape and continue unarmed or attempt to use the force to work the latch. The former didn't seem reasonable so he tried the latter.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He could feel the latch and feel the force almost wrapping around it. He pushed, a mere suggestion. It was beginning to turn when he was grabbed from behind. Large arms enfolded him and plucked him off the ladder. His lightsabre dropped from his hand and clattered to the floor. He kicked out helplessly with his feet but connected with air. He kept his struggle up until his opponent couldn't hold on any more and threw him down on his bunk.
Obi-Wan was free for a moment and then the real battle began. It was liked being paralyzed. Laughing, yet in pain at the same time. He was being tickled. Everywhere. And he was very very ticklish.
"Qui-Gon, stop it!" he cried.
Qui-Gon, who showed no sign of exertion despite the fact that he'd been running all over the ship just smiled. "You only feel what you allow yourself to feel", he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
It was irritating, Obi-Wan thought, that Qui-Gon could tickle him without even touching him. It seemed an abuse of the power of the force to use it to tickle your apprentice. In fact he was sure it was. And what was worse was that he couldn't reciprocate. He'd tried once and Qui-Gon had merely shot him an odd glance.
Slowly, he was able to split his mental and physical energies between laughing and squirming to stillness and mental calm. Finally he was able to block out Qui-Gon entirely.
"Good, Padawan", his master said. "You're getting much better at strategy, but you still need to consider the present. Some of your hiding places weren't exactly well thought out."
Obi-Wan nodded. Though most of their days were spent in more serious matters, these were the times Obi-Wan enjoyed most. Sparring with his master made him feel stronger more experienced. It also helped him understand the way Qui-Gon thought and the way he used the force. The benefits of such exercises were mutual of course. Qui-Gon used the opportunity to look into his padawan's mind, to help him make better decisions when faced with tough choices. It brought them closer. Made them a team. Someday, Qui-Gon knew, when Obi-Wan was older the two of them would fight side by side as though they were one. He was laying the foundation for that now.
After leaving the Jedi Temple on Coruscant Obi-Wan found that he missed his friends and the stability of life there. He had always had tremendous respect for Qui-Gon, but had not known what to make of him in the beginning. He had seemed distant to the point of cruelty at times when they first met, but that all changed the day Qui-Gon accepted Obi-Wan as his padawan learner. It hadn't been easy. For either of them, Obi-Wan suspected. Qui-Gon didn't want the burden of an apprentice; that had been clear enough. And Obi-Wan didn't know what he wanted. He only knew he wanted to be a Jedi and not a farmer.
Obi-Wan had been identified as force sensitive as an infant. He had been taken to the temple and his name had been changed. He had lived his entire life without a real family. Now he had one. Obi-Wan loved and trusted Qui-Gon more than he did anyone in the universe. He would have gone anywhere with him and felt that he would obey any order he gave. At the same time he missed the temple and his friends. He had so much to tell them and he longed for the quiet serenity of the meditation room, the garden, and the sound of falling water. He shut his eyes as though trying to summon the sight and sound of it.
Qui-Gon's voice brought him back. "Obi-Wan, you're not listening to me." It was an observation, made without a hint of derision. And it was true; Obi-Wan hadn't heard a word.
"I'm sorry, Master", he said, his head lowered.
Qui-Gon smiled. He laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and squeezed. "That's all right. Sometimes I don't know when to stop. You did very well today. The hatch idea would have worked had you thought it through better. I would not have been able to follow you through there. You would have turned what had been a disadvantage into a great advantage."
Obi-Wan nodded.
"But enough of that. Tomorrow we will reach Coruscant. The council informs me your friend Bant has been chosen as the padawan of Master Gyat-si. She will be leaving in 3 days. You'll have time to say goodbye. You should get some rest, Padawan. "
"I will, Master." He shed his cloak and began preparing for bed.
Qui-Gon turned the cabin lights low, but remained awake studying the contents of a data pad.
Obi-Wan lay back on his bunk. He felt safe. Safe and happy. He had come so
close to losing his dream of becoming a Jedi knight that now he savored each
moment. The last thing he saw before he drifted off to sleep was his master,
Qui-Gon. His dreams were pleasant and filled with light.
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