Chapter Text
Obi-Wan Kenobi has been a Padawan Learner under his heretical, mysterious Master Ben Kenobi for nearly ten years now. He’d just turned twenty-three years old, he was raising his four year old son in the Jedi Temple, and he was more than used to his master being far from a normal Jedi.
Not the least of which is that he unashamedly loved Obi-Wan. Despite the reforms, the Jedi children coming out of the woodwork, the cautious relaxing on relationships, love was still spoken about in whispers around the temple. Not quite but almost taboo. Ben expressed his love for Obi-Wan in word as well as action. Which of course Obi-Wan returned in equal measure. He knew they gave the Council headaches, not just with their blatant attachment, but also with the reforms and changes Ben spearheaded.
He didn’t actually know why the Council let Ben get away with a great many of the things his master did. Why the Council seemed to take Ben’s suggestions and opinions very seriously. Why they actually sought his council when before they kept their own close to their chests. According to Ben he hadn’t even been to the Coruscant temple in years nor did he have a relationship with the current High Council until they’d come back from Melidaan. So what, Obi-Wan asked in the back of his mind, half suspicious-half impressed, did Ben have over the Council to grant him so much power.
Over the last couple of years, he’d often wondered about his master’s mysteries, his true origins and history. As he’d gotten older, he’d come to realize that Ben did not lie. At least, not about the major events, not about the big things. The little details, however, most if not all the seemingly inconsequential details of Ben’s history before he found Obi-Wan were a lie or vague enough to let you draw your own conclusions. He made very liberal use of a truth from a certain point of view.
Obi-Wan had unconsciously started taking a mental tally of everything about his master that didn’t make sense. The times they’d go haring off on a rescue mission or other on nothing, but a very vague explanation of a Force-vision or premonition. How Ben never went into detail about his padawanship or the years before their meeting. His utter certainty of and experience with the continued threat of the Sith. Especially since most of the Order thought them extinct. Even Ben’s age.
It had taken a long time for Obi-Wan to realize that Ben was too young. It was possible to take a padawan young and train them to knighthood in a decade or so. Earning the rank of Master in your early thirties was not unheard of. Master Windu for one could boast that accomplishment. But Ben had also let slip mention of years fighting some unnamed war supposedly in the Unknown Regions and at least a decade exiled in the desert.
By Obi-Wan’s really rough calculations, Ben should at least be nearing seventy-sum-odd years old. Not extremely advanced for a Force-sensitive Stewjoni Human variant, but still much older than Ben’s current apparent age of forty-five.
During a history assignment about the New Sith Wars, Obi-Wan had come across an accounting of a number of unnatural arts and techniques attributed to the Sith. One of which was the ability to prolong one’s life by manipulation of the Dark side. He’d had a slightly hysterical moment of contemplating that his master’s aging had been halted through some blasphemous application of Sith Sorcery. Then he forced himself to calm down and realize he was being an idiot. Ben’s presence in the Force may be marred by the scars of grief and heartache and pain, but it was so Light and loving that the thought of him being a secret Sith was ridiculous.
It did make him think, however. Ben may not be using the Dark side to slow his aging, but that didn't rule out other Force based shenanigans and tomfoolery. Kenobis were the adopted children of the Force, after all. There was no telling what Ben could have stumbled upon that caused him to look forty when he should be seventy.
One oddity about his master that Obi-Wan was reluctant to even think on was their physical resemblance. He and Ben both denied being blood related, but… Yes, Stewjon was known for producing fair skinned, light eyed redheads. However, only about one percent of the population had the ultra rare Stewjoni blood type that he and Ben shared.
If Obi-Wan hadn’t heard the story from Feemor himself, about how he found a little redheaded infant abandoned in a freezing field on Stewjon, he might have thought that maybe… Maybe Ben really was his biological father. Maybe he’d been so supportive of Obi-Wan wanting to raise Korkie, because he’d had to give his own child up to the temple. But Obi-Wan knew Ben hadn’t lied when he said they were not biological father and son, nor had he lied when he said he’d never been back to Stewjon. He couldn’t have sired Obi-Wan even unknowingly.
A possible if unlikely biological relationship, didn’t take into account their birthmarks. Unlike hair, eyes, and blood type, things like birthmarks and fingerprints weren’t hereditary. Obi-Wan had never had the occasion to fingerprint his master, but their birthmarks were on their faces, he couldn’t have failed to notice how improbably identical they were.
Obi-Wan had, in his more idly curious moments, thrown around any number of outrageous and unlikely theories. This lead to another harrowing afternoon in the Archives. He’d stumbled upon an accounting of a Sith artifact called a Force-simulacrum. Apparently if a Sith meditated enough negative emotions in the right combination with sufficient motivation they could conjure up a nearly lifelike golem to do their bidding. These golems were more often than not made in the image of the one that summoned them.
He’d been subject to many a negative emotion while fighting on Melida/Daan. Obi-Wan had also wished and prayed with all his heart, silently in the dead of night, that he wasn’t alone, that another Jedi would come and help him save the Young. And then Master Ben appeared looking eerily like an older version of himself.
Obi-Wan had nearly thrown up in panicked horror before he was able to read the rest of the passage. Force-simulacrums were only functional to perform the specific task the Sith conjured them for, nothing more. They did not bleed, nor did they have independent thought. None of which fit Ben, not even a little bit.
He was not ashamed to admit he’d gone straight back to his apartment and grabbed Ben a long, tight hug. Which, thankfully, his master accepted and returned with no protest if much confusion.
Still, with the exclusion of Sith mischief, despite implying he’d grown up in the Coruscant temple none the older masters knew him before he came back with Obi-Wan. He wasn’t proud of it, but he’d snuck a peek at Ben’s temple personal file once. From what Ben had told him he knew that some of the information in the file was an outright lie, and some a very creative interpretation. It was obviously fabricated after they’d returned to the temple and there were no other records or documentation of Ben on the temple servers.
It was like Ben had just appeared out of thin air. Biological father or not, accidental Force shenanigans or not, Obi-Wan acknowledged that Ben’s true origins and past was and would remain a mystery. At least for now.
In the past year or so, Obi-Wan hadn’t done much more than silently speculate. Between raising Korkie, finishing up his standard education, and his absurdly SNAKU – situation normal all kriffed up – missions with Ben, he didn't have time to do more research on the mystery that was his master even if he wanted to. Which he resolved that he would be patient. He had to have faith that eventually Ben would… tell him the truth.
He kept thinking about it, though. In the back of his mind as he cataloged inconsistencies, oddities, vagaries, anything really that Ben said or did that didn’t add up. Ben never outright lied to Obi-Wan, but he wasn’t always honest. He kept his secrets. The longer Ben kept those secrets, the more Obi-Wan wondered why. Why wouldn’t Ben tell him? Did he not trust Obi-Wan? Didn’t he know that whatever it was he was hiding, Obi-Wan would gladly keep that secret for him?
Despite trying to keep these questions from bubbling up, his master would inevitably do something that brought them to the fore. The most recent being Ben’s oddly jumpy behavior for the last couple of weeks. Including the strange things he’s been making Obi-Wan do and learn.
“Tell me why again I need to refresh my Huttese,” Obi-Wan grumbled as he waded through the advanced Huttese language module on his datapad.
“You never know when you might get stranded in Hutt Space,” Ben responded without looking up from his own datapad. An article on the resent deals and movements of the Trade Federation open on the screen.
“And why would we get stranded in Hutt Space?” he drawled, annoyed.
“The Will of the Force is a strange and wondrous thing, my padawan,” was the only answer Ben gave before they were both consumed by their tasks.
And then there was the money.
“Seriously, Ben, why are we attempting to requisition twenty thousand credits worth of wupiupi?” Obi-Wan was starting to see a pattern in Ben’s whims, but maybe it was just a coincidence.
“Not everywhere in the galaxy takes Republic credits,” Ben said, all reasonable like.
“Yes, but only Hutt Space takes Hutt gold,” Obi-Wan pointed out as he filled in the third requisition of funds form. The first two having been rejected already.
“It’s always best to be prepared for the unexpected.” Ben smiled in that knowing, secretive way of his.
He shot his master a look as he pointed out, “It’s not unexpected if you prepare for it, Master.”
“Yes, quite so,” Ben said his smile turning into a smirk.
Though odder than all the emphasis on Hutt things, were the navigational simulations Ben had suddenly shoved him in.
“Where in the Force would we need deep ocean piloting experience, Ben?” Obi-Wan demanded as he attempted to dodge some kind of leviathan on the simulation and promptly got his vessel eaten for the third time.
“Lots of planets have oceanic systems that reach all the way to the core,” Ben replied easily, sitting relaxed and calm in the simulation craft’s passenger seat despite the virtual horrors attempting to eat their ship.
“We’re not leaving the Core worlds on missions for another few months!” Obi-Wan yelped and jerked the yoke, moving their virtual vessel out of the way of another behemoth sea monster. “None of the planets in the Core have this kind of geography.”
“You never know, Padawan,” Ben retorted smoothly, unconcerned. “Oh, look out for that fish.”
Fish being a comically understated descriptor for a sea creature large enough to swallow their craft whole. Which it did and thus ended the simulation for the fourth time.
The thing that really stood out to Obi-Wan from all the recent cryptic strangeness that was his master, was the day Ben took him to the Halls of Healing.
“You want me to teach you both how to find foreign objects in the body?” Bant eyed them curiously. “That’s fairly advanced for simple first aid.”
“But I think worth the knowing,” Ben said as he gave the young healer a smile.
Obi-Wan and Bant shared a look. They were both fairly accustomed to Ben’s eccentricities by then. Bant and her Master, Tahl, spent almost as much time in Ben and Obi-Wan's apartment as they did their own and vice versa. The masters had even traded padawans a couple of times for various lessons and training. So Bant knew that Ben’s instincts were uncannily spot on, even for a Jedi. If he said they should learn this advanced diagnostic technique, then she was willing to indulge him.
“Alright,” she finally said after receiving an agreeing nod from Obi-Wan. “Well, there are a few techniques for this and depending on the nature of the foreign object one may be more appropriate than another.”
“How about for non-organic materials?” Ben interrupted before Bant could wind up to her lecture. “Perhaps something metal, plastoid, or even silicone.”
Bant blinked at him with her wide Mon Cala eyes and shot another curious look at an equally curious Obi-Wan. “For objects of those materials this technique works the best.”
And she proceeded to walk them through the theory, then at Ben’s behest pulled out a well used training dummy made of engineered organic material and riddled with different foreign objects to practice on.
“This technique feels a little different when it’s performed on an actual live being, but for learning and training purposes the dummy works fine,” she said and demonstrated said technique.
It was a long and tedious afternoon, but Obi-Wan didn’t complain. Truthfully he never honestly complained when Ben was this insistent on him learning something. There were too many instances on missions when Ben’s odd training whims had meant the preservation of Obi-Wan’s life and limbs.
So the weeks leading up to the news about the Trade Federation’s recent contentions with Naboo were strange ones. And Ben’s reaction to the aforementioned news even stranger.
“Do you really think the Jedi will get a request for interference?” Obi-Wan wondered as he obligingly finished reading the article Ben handed him on the Trade Federation’s latest idiocy.
“Yes,” Ben replied with utter certainty. “I imagine Chancellor Valorum will contact the High Council very soon.”
He eyed his master over the top of the datapad. “Why would Chancellor Valorum put in the request? Shouldn’t that be the Naboo Senator’s job?”
“You would think, wouldn’t you,” Ben muttered derisively as he fixed himself a cup of tea.
It was his anxious tea, Obi-Wan noticed. The blend he really only liked to drink when he was stressed and worried. When it was inappropriate to break into his not-so-secret collection of expensive alcohol.
“Ben,” Obi-Wan set his datapad down and looked at his master. “You seem out of sorts. What’s going on?”
His master gave him a long unreadable look before he smiled unconvincingly. “I’m just tired, young one,” he said. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
That was true at least. He had heard Ben get up and wander around the apartment almost every night since he’d started acting odd a couple weeks ago.
“Is there anything I can do, Ben?” He was worried for his master. He hadn’t seen him this off in years. Not really since that mission Obi-Wan had been kidnapped by slavers and Ben had some kind of vivid flashback mid-rescue.
“No, my dear,” Ben murmured, his smile turning more genuine if smaller. He reached out and laid a warm hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder giving it a companionable squeeze. “I’ll be alright. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Yet, should have been the end to that sentence because it was only two days later that Ben looked at a message on his comlink and abruptly stood up.
“Granddad, where you goin’?” Korkie complained from his place on the floor. Ben had been sitting with him playing with brightly colored building blocks. “Castle’s not done.”
“I’m sorry, dearest,” Ben said, sounding distracted as he leaned down and placed a kiss on Korkie’s wild red hair. “I’ve just gotten a summons from the Council and I can’t ignore them. I should be home for dinner, though. I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” Korkie sighed very grudging in his magnanimous acceptance. “Guess you can see Master Yoda ‘n Master Mace. But you have’ta be back for dinner. I want desert stew for dinner.”
Ben’s expression lightened with some humor as he looked upon his honorary grandson. “Of course, Korkie. Since you requested so politely.”
Obi-Wan snorted from his place on the sofa finishing an assignment for his advanced diplomacy class. “Korkie, you left off your ‘please.”
Korkie glanced at his father innocently confused then turned back to Ben. “Please.”
Observing Ben’s smile and obliging nod, Obi-Wan asked, “Do I need to be there as well?”
“No,” he answered after an odd pause. “I think it would be better if I went alone. We’ll discuss it at dinner.”
And with that he left the apartment. Obi-Wan watched him go with a frown. Something was happening. Something was changing. He could hear it just barely in the anticipatory whispers of the Force. Whatever it was, Obi-Wan knew he and his master were going to be up to their necks in it. That seemed to be their lots in life both as Force Favored and as Kenobis. Shenanigans and tomfoolery followed his master around more than surely anyone else in history.
*
TBC...