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The ship Obi-wan was stowing away on was in hyperspace when everything went wrong.
It was the second ship he had stowed away on. The first had contained a small crew and had been transporting cargo between planets. This second ship was just as big, but it only had one crew member, and didn’t have any cargo. He didn’t know where the ship was going, or why, and though that lack of knowledge made him uncomfortable, it ultimately didn’t matter. As long as he got to a new random planet, he would be safe from Xanatos.
Maybe he should have cared a bit more about the crew situation, though.
The pilot of the ship dragged Obi-wan out from behind the hyperdrive, where he had been working on yet another accursed History of the Old Republic assignment, and slammed him into the wall of the engine room. Obi-wan yelped as the pilot pinned him by his collar.
“A stowaway,” the pilot snarled, absolute fury leaking into the Force.
“Can we talk about this?” Obi-wan said hopefully.
“No,” the pilot answered, and pulled a blaster from a holster at his hip.
Obi-wan shrieked and kicked the pilot with both feet, relying on the man’s grip keeping him pinned to the wall and not falling to the ground. The pilot yelped and fell backwards, releasing Obi-wan. They both fell to the floor.
Obi-wan, though, got up first, and scrambled past the man. He grabbed his pack and his datapad, and dashed deeper into the engine room. There were a couple hiding places that the pilot wouldn’t be able to get him in, though they would also be too uncomfortable to sleep in.
Cursing, the pilot got to his feet behind Obi-wan. A moment later, a blaster bolt flew through the air, barely missing Obi-wan as he dodged around the hyperdrive.
“Stop!” the pilot shouted.
Obi-wan did not stop. He ran to the sublight engine. The huge thing took up most of the room, but there was some room above it. Obi-wan ducked behind it, into the small space between the sublight engines and one of the walls. If the door to the engine room didn’t practically open onto the area behind the sublights engine, Obi-wan would have chosen it as his hiding place. There was a ladder, there, and Obi-wan skittered up it. By the time the pilot got there, Obi-wan was already safely on top of the sublight engines. If the pilot tried to climb up, Obi-wan would be able to attack him from above easily, while he had at least one hand occupied holding onto the ladder. Obi-wan would have the advantage.
The pilot seemed to realize that.
“Come down here,” he ordered.
“No way!” Obi-wan exclaimed. “You tried to shoot me!”
“With a stunner!” the pilot corrected. He sounded very offended. “I wouldn’t just kill a kid just like that.”
“I appreciate you not trying to kill me, but I don’t want to be stunned, either,” Obi-wan said.
“If you didn’t want to be stunned, you shouldn’t have stowed away,” the pilot said firmly.
“I wouldn’t have stowed away if I had any other choice!” Obi-wan protested.
“You could have paid for passage,” the pilot snapped.
“I don’t have any credits,” Obi-wan explained. “And I didn’t have time to get any.”
“What’s the rush?” the pilot scoffed.
“Well, it’s a bit of a long story…” Obi-wan started.
“I have time,” the pilot cut him off. “And you have nothing else to do, unless you have some plan to knock me out. Tell me.”
“There’s this guy, who is not my brother, though he disagrees with that,” Obi-wan explained. He decided to avoid any mention of the Jedi, since he knew that Force-sensitives could be very valuable. He did not want to be sold off to some Hutts or other slavers if the pilot was that sort of opportunist. “He knew I was on that planet, and I’m pretty sure he was going to send someone to grab me.”
“What do you mean, he disagrees?” the pilot asked. “He’s either your brother or not.”
“A while before my guardian took me as his ward, Xan was his ward,” Obi-wan shrugged. “If Xan wasn’t so evil, I would be happy to have a brother. But, he’s awful, so…”
“And where is your guardian?” the pilot asked.
“Xan told my guardian I was working for him,” Obi-wan looked away. “My guardian believed him over me, and abandoned me.”
“Damn, kid,” the pilot said, finally sounding a little more sympathetic, “that’s messed up. He abandoned you? Without any credits? Or anyone to take care of you?”
“He just kicked me off the ship,” Obi-wan confirmed. “He did give me five minutes to pack my things, at least. But with Xan knowing where I was, I realized I had to flee as quickly as possible. Maybe Xan will mock my guardian for being so gullible, and clear my name, but I couldn’t count on that happening fast enough for him to rescue me from Xan. And that’s assuming he’s willing to take me back if my name gets cleared.”
“And you think you’re in danger from your not-brother?” the pilot asked.
“The first time we met, he strapped a bomb collar around my neck and shipped me off to a deep sea mine,” Obi-wan said dryly. “I don’t know what he has planned this time, but I don’t want to find out.”
The pilot sighed deeply in a giving-up sort of way. Obi-wan perked up.
“Do you know how to pilot?” the pilot asked.
“I do,” Obi-wan said.
“Well, if you work as my get-away pilot… I suppose you can stay with me,” the pilot said grudgingly. “I have some… business with the governor of Guilderaan. He has something of mine, and I might need to get away fast.”
The pilot’s anger and sincerity rang true in the Force.
“I can help!” Obi-wan announced, relief setting in. He poked his head out of the safety of the sublight engine.
Fortunately, the pilot had holstered his blaster. He had his arms crossed, and looked grumpy, but that was workable.
“It’s almost time for midmeal,” the pilot grumbled. “Get out of there and meet me in the galley.”
He turned and stomped away.
Obi-wan clambered down and dusted himself off before following the pilot. He needed to learn the man’s name, he noted. But that could wait for after midmeal, especially if the pilot offered something besides ration bars.
Obi-wan Kenobi had really, honestly thought his luck was looking up. He was no longer a stowaway, doing crimes and risking all sorts of unsavory fates just to escape Xanatos. The angry pilot had cooled off a little, and had agreed to let Obi-wan stick around for a while. Obi-wan knew he could probably pull his weight, considering what he knew of Force-Nulls, so he wasn’t overly concerned about that demand. And the pilot even agreed to help him get to where he wanted to go, once he figured it out. All signs were pointing towards a good, wholesome partnership between Obi-wan and his new pilot friend.
And then, the pilot told his story.
It was an awful story, full of bloodshed and loss. The poor man had lost two whole families, his biological family when he was a little kid, and his adoptive family when he was a young man. Both times, they had been killed. But it was the second time that was the problem: his adoptive family had been a group of mercenaries killed by Jedi in a trap. And he absolutely hated Jedi.
Obi-wan had his lightsaber in his bag. He had a datapad that could connect to the Jedi Archives if the holonet allowed. He had part of his Jedi Padawan uniform (and he was very glad he had ditched the rest of it in favor of questionably acquired local clothing at his last stop). If Jango, the pilot, saw any of that, Obi-wan was pretty sure the man would go on a rampage in the direction of the nearest Jedi-shaped thing. Jango said that he had killed six Jedi, and Obi-wan felt no lie, so he probably did not have a very good chance of survival if Jango tried to kill him.
The moment he was certain Jango was asleep, Obi-wan had taken his lightsaber apart. It hurt him, a little, since that lightsaber was so important to him, but his life was more important. Plus, he could put his lightsaber back together if he needed to. He would need to meditate properly, but it was doable. That did leave Obi-wan without any sort of weapon, which was uncomfortable. Any weapon would be worse than his lightsaber, but if push came to shove, he would prefer a blaster over nothing. Maybe Jango would have a spare, no matter how strange it would feel to ask.
Obi-wan upped the security on his datapad as well. It would be a pain getting through it each time he wanted to do some of his assignments for his classes. It might even make him fall farther behind. But he couldn’t turn in assignments if he had been killed by Jango. So, the security went up, and Obi-wan just suffered through it each time and avoided letting Jango see what he was working on.
There wasn’t much Obi-wan could do about his scraps of Jedi uniform. Unfortunately, only destroying them entirely made sense. There was nowhere safe to hide them. It was cut in a distinctly Jedi way. Though there were other groups of people who used similar cuts and types of cloth in their clothing, Jedi were, by far, the best known for it. Obi-wan turned the cloth into rough bandages and left it in the bottom of his pack, hoping Jango didn’t have a change in personality and decide to act like an archeologist and try to piece together the clothing.
Once Obi-wan had hidden the most obvious signs of his Jedi history, he took a little breather. The whole thing had made him a little panicked. Jango Fett was the only other person on the ship, and Obi-wan was pretty sure Jango would kill him if he knew Obi-wan had been a Padawan.
No wonder Jango had tried to shoot him. Jango might not know that Obi-wan had been a Jedi, but clearly Jango wasn’t the most peaceful person out there.
Speaking of peaceful people, Obi-wan was very aware that Jango’s account of events was very biased. Obi-wan did not, for one instance, believe that any Jedi had just attacked a random group of people. Even if that group of people were mercenaries. More likely, Jango had pulled something like what he had on Obi-wan; Jango seemed to think little of pointing a blaster in someone’s face and little more of pulling the trigger. Obi-wan could imagine some master getting a blaster to the face and moving it out of the way, only for Jango to freak out and attempt to stun the Jedi Master. Then, the other Jedi would move to protect their own, and the bloodbath would commence. That was a realistic story, to Obi-wan. And he doubted Jango would tell it any differently.
Then, of course, there was the fact that Jango had been a mercenary. Mercenaries were not often known for their honor, and for good reason. Who knew what jobs Jango had taken, working for whoever had the most credits. Jango hadn’t explained exactly what he had been doing on Gilderaan prior to his defeat at the hands of the Jedi, and he didn’t particularly seem to care. Though Obi-wan didn’t know what had happened between the Jedi and Jango, he did know a little more about the Governor and Jango. The Governor had apparently sold Jango into slavery, and Obi-wan could sense no lie. And that was the sort of person Jango had willingly decided to work for. Obi-wan strongly doubted Jango had many scruples to speak of.
Yet, Obi-wan was not planning on betraying Jango the first chance he got. Obi-wan clearly couldn’t get Jango captured by the lawful authorities of Gilderaan, since they apparently tended to sell their prisoners into slavery. And Obi-wan had questions of his own for the Governor. Selling people into slavery wasn’t really something a person did once in their life. It required being able to contact slavers, for example, and having enough of a working relationship that they wouldn’t claim to not be slavers. Someone with the power of governorship over a full planet, and leadership over the security forces that implied, would have easy access to plenty of people who might be sold off for some extra credits. And if he had already broken that law once, why would he decide not to do it again?
Maybe Obi-wan was wrong. He didn’t know everything about how the galaxy worked. He could be missing something important about the Governor of Gilderaan and his interactions with the mercenary leader he hired. But if Obi-wan was correct, helping Jango get his revenge on the Governor would be a good thing.
Or as good as pure violence could be. Things could always get worse. But Jango would give the Governor’s political opponents a chance to change everything they could, and Obi-wan had no intention of stopping him.
“Ben,” Jango called. “Come to the hold.”
“Coming!” Obi-wan answered.
He turned off his datapad and sprinted through the ship. The hold of the ship was large and cold and empty. He immediately spotted Jango, standing over a folding table with blasters laid out over it. Obi-wan hesitated, looking between the many blasters and Jango.
“I’m not going to shoot you,” Jango said, turning and scowling at Obi-wan. “Get over here.”
Obi-wan crossed the last few meters at a slower pace.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Do you have a blaster?” Jango asked. “Any other weapons?”
“No,” Obi-wan lied. “I’m better at running away than at fighting.”
Jango snorted.
“Well, at least you know your weaknesses,” he said dryly. “But you must know you can’t always run away. Sometimes you have to fight.”
“I guess,” Obi-wan said.
“Good enough.” Jango looked at the blasters. “Have you ever used one of these before?”
“No,” Obi-wan said. He didn’t even recognize most of the blasters on display, let alone recall shooting with them.
“Have you ever learned how to shoot a blaster?” Jango said with exasperation dripping from his tone.
“No, not really,” Obi-wan admitted.
“At least you aren’t all helmet,” Jango muttered.
Jango sighed and picked out two blasters. They were identical to each other in form, though one of them was yellow and blue and the other was blue and white. He handed the blue and white one to Obi-wan.
“That’s yours, now,” Jango said.
“Thank you,” Obi-wan responded, though he could hear the nervousness in his own voice. “Will you teach me to shoot it?”
“Of course,” Jango confirmed, with a small smile. He seemed to appreciate the request. “Today, I’ll give you a crash course on how to use it. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you to care for it. The next two days, we’ll focus on marksmanship.” Jango’s expression darkened and sharpened. “And the day after that, we reach our destination. I will expect you to guard and fly the ship, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Obi-wan agreed. “I don’t know how well I’ll be able to guard the ship, though.”
“Well, that’s what this lesson is about,” Jango shrugged, the darkness fading from his expression. Jango pointed deeper into the hold. “Do you see that target?”
Obi-wan turned to look. Sure enough, there was a metal circle stuck to the side of the hull. It had a drawn-on center, and the rest of it was simply steel-colored metal.
“Isn’t it dangerous to shoot a blaster in a ship?” Obi-wan asked.
“Spacer’s myth,” Jango dismissed. “If you have a high enough powered blaster, you might have problems, but otherwise there’s no reason to worry. We’ll be using stun-blasts to conserve power, too, so there’s even less reason to worry. Ship hulls are more than thick enough to handle hand-held blasters.”
“Alright,” Obi-wan said.
“Now, copy me,” Jango ordered.
Jango stepped into a simple stance, with his feet shoulder-width apart and his blaster held at shoulder-height. Obi-wan copied him.
“Good,” Jango said after checking Obi-wan’s stance. “Now aim for the center of the target.”
Obi-wan obeyed. Jango stepped out of his stance to crouch down next to Obi-wan.
“Good,” Jango said. “Fire.”
It seemed far too soon to be shooting, and Obi-wan hesitated, glancing at Jango.
“Go on,” Jango ordered, with irritation in his tone.
Obi-wan took a deep breath, focused on the target, and let himself pull the trigger. The blaster bolt sped through the air towards the target.
It hit.
It hit right in the center of the target.
Jango made a sound of interest.
“That’s probably just beginner’s luck, but try it again,” Jango ordered.
It wasn’t beginner’s luck. Obi-wan knew it wasn’t. There was no such thing as luck. There was only the Force. And Obi-wan was now surer than ever that keeping the secret of his Force sensitivity would be a massive effort.