Chapter Text
The galactic senate had given bad information, again.
They assured them it was a typical disagreement about taxes between the Trade Federation and Naboo. Yet, blaster bolts fell like a summer downpour as Obi-Wan held her ground against the latest droid attack, side-by-side with her master. Deflecting bolt after bolt, the newly knighted Jedi strode through a trail of smoking debris, charred plants, and blackened architecture.
Three Jedi, including herself, formed a wedge, leading Queen Amidala of Naboo and her security detail into the royal navy hangar to reclaim their planet. In elegant makeup and overcoats, Amidala and her handmaidens ferociously shot down droids, capitalizing on the Jedi’s cover.
The droids, on the other hand, shot carelessly, mindlessly following orders to capture or kill the Queen of Naboo and her entourage. So far the Jedi had kept them all safe. The surroundings…not so much.
What a shame. Hand-carved inlaid columns, and paintings from long-dead masters. Droids have no appreciation for craftsmanship.
“Padawan. Focus, and push towards the group’s weak left side.” Master Dooku said. He stood as the epitome of Jedi grace: Tall, sophisticated, immaculately dressed—traits his critics often mistook for snobbery.
No attacker was safe as his green lightsaber flashed seemingly everywhere at once.
“Yes master.” She and Qui-Gon Jinn both answered. Nodding awkwardly to Master Jinn, she stepped to Dooku’s left, forgetting he had once been Dooku’s padawan too.
Breathing deeply, she joined Dooku’s familiar melody in the force. Step, parry, block, switch. Each played their own part, flowing together as one. Years of work together, of practicing until she couldn’t take one more step, had forged them into a harmonious unit. Time flowed over and around her as though celebrating the rightness of them fighting together. Each bolt seemed to fly straight into her lightsaber rather than harm those she protected. She may have been knighted recently, but they would always be connected as master and apprentice.
As they punched through the last of the droids in the courtyard, the massive doors of the royal hangar swung open to reveal the wealth of Naboo’s most advanced starfighters.
“Glad you’re on our side.” Amidala said in awe as the last droid sparked out violently in front of them, a trail of destruction painted behind them.
Only two steps remained of their plan. One: use the royal navy to destroy the central droid control ship to power down the droids, and two: capture the leaders of the Trade Federation in the throne room before they get the rest of their army in position. The next objective was up to the Queen’s navy.
Blasters and screams echoed through the expansive hangar as pilots fought to enter their ships. Braving the onslaught of droids, the pilots’ sacrifices were not altogether futile as two dozen or so of the starting hundred managed to take off in their starfighters.
They need to hurry before the next wave arrives. It wasn’t the first time she’d wished the Jedi order was not so short-handed. Three Jedi was enough to sneak into the palace, but certainly not enough to fight two battalions of droids.
“I can detect the weak points of the command ship. I’m going to help the pilots.” Qui-Gon said.
”Master?” A youngling with shaggy, sun-bleached hair pleaded.
“Anakin, stay here. Or even better…” He boosted the small child up to an unmanned fighter. “…put on the shields and stay in this ship.”
The youngling was quick on the controls, and static buzzed as the shield snapped into place. Nodding encouragingly, Qui-Gon dashed to the next fighter and quickly flew out towards the droid control ship.
”Does he ever learn?” Dooku asked dryly.
Obi-Wan shrugged. She knew Qui-Gon’s quirks better than most. He had actually been her first Master. That is, until he left her behind as she was helping a troop of younglings fight for survival. In a warzone.
As a fourteen-year-old general she’d led the other children to victory, but seen and participated in an overwhelming amount of death. She’d made her way home to the temple a year later, malnourished, anxious, and withdrawn. Qui-Gon tried to make it up to her, but Dooku saw behind her mask of pain and helped her put the pieces back together.
Dooku woke up with her when she had nightmares, Dooku believed in her, and Dooku trained her rigorously to fill her heart’s desire to protect and stop wars in the first place.
Her master was one of the elite Jedi sent to negotiate in war zones and untangle complex battles. She wasn’t sure why he picked her when he could have had anyone, but Obi-Wan was honored to be part of his legacy.
”Should we have the youngling come with…” she asked, but she couldn’t finish her sentence before said youngling ignited the engine and took off towards the rest of the fleet.
”It seems the youngling lives up to his reputation as a pilot.” Dooku said, messaging Qui-Gon.
A sudden chill pierced the air, like a door thrust open on a winter’s night. Master and apprentice turned in unison, their force bond vibrating in warning.
A heavily tattooed Zabrak loomed between them and the throne room. Threatening, taunting them, excited to fight. Angry yellow eyes shifted to orange as he ignited his blood-red lightsaber. A Sith hadn’t been seen in a thousand years, and yet one appeared almost out of nowhere. Dooku motioned for the Queen’s group to take the long route. Dashing off, they were content to leave this peculiar threat to the Jedi.
Dooku approached slowly, curiously. Obi-Wan held back an eyeroll. Her master lived for a good duel, and as the galaxy’s finest bladesman he was rarely gifted a new challenge.
Stall for time. Dooku signed via their shared hand-code.
Lighting her saber she stepped to her place on his right, switching to a more defensive form to slow down the battle as she calculated probable attacks and counterattacks. She’d religiously studied all the modern forms with her master, but this opponent’s form was as unusual as the color of his blade.
Springing into motion, the Zabrak lunged forward, testing the defense of the Jedi. Sparks flew, the smell of ozone filling the air.
Swipe. Slice. Thrust.
She parried, while analyzing his attacks. Watching for weak points until they were ready to end the duel. Playing with their prey made the fight much more dangerous, but danger was one of her closest friends. Her master blocked, she counterattacked, and they flowed in and out of each other’s space.
”Who sent you?” Dooku asked, calmly deflecting a strike.
The Zabrak just grinned, his sharp teeth completing the look of a predator on the hunt. If he realized they were taking their time, he didn’t show it.
“Padawan, straighten your back leg two degrees.” Dooku instructed mid-parry as if they were in a salle rather than a war zone.
“Thanks for the feedback, how’s this?” She made the adjustment.
”Much improved, you’ll see how…”
“Stop talking!” snarled the Zabrak.
”It’s not polite to interrupt.” said Dooku.
”Or show up uninvited—especially empty handed.” she added.
Grunting, the Zabrak called on the dark side, feasting on the suffering generated by the nearby battles. His presence thrummed with dark energy begging to be released. He pressed toward them, swings whistling with increased speed.
”Interesting.” said Dooku.
Her comm buzzed. While blocking, she answered the comm from the queen: “Jedi friends, we’ve run into a bit of a roadblock here.” Sounds of heavy turret fire came through even on the comm. “Any chance of assistance?”
“We’re still a bit occupied, but I suppose we could speed things up?” She looked to her master.
”Go to the queen, I’ll finish up here.”
Obi-Wan glanced at her master. She hated separating, but knew he had the duel well in hand. Sprinting to the main corridor, she pulled up the holomap and identified the Queen’s shared location.
Padme. The plan would fall apart if something happened to the queen.
Obi-Wan had instantly connected with the fourteen-year-old ruler. They’d both been thrown into warfare at too young an age, and Obi-Wan hoped this was the last war the brave queen needed to witness.
Even if she didn’t have the force, the sound of the turrets echoing indoors gave away the Queen’s position long before they could be seen. At the last intersection before the throne room, the queen’s group was pinned between a squad of droids and a pair of turrets which minced the group to the queen and four security guards. Even Amidala hadn’t been able to avoid injury, with a makeshift bandage wrapping her once-fine trousers.
Obi-Wan tapped into the force, finding the currents of its song. She jumped first behind the preoccupied turret units, taking advantage of their inflexible orders to focus on the queen.
Cutting through their exposed gunners, the turrets ground to a stop. The silence jarring after the onslaught of sound.
Droids turned toward her, but it was too late, she was already on top of them, sweeping through them, the last stragglers picked off by the royal escort.
Amidala thanked her, limping on her bad leg, and faced the stately doors to the throne room. A remaining guard grasped the door, ready to open while Obi-Wan moved to enter first, scouting ahead with the Force. Dozens of droids waited in the room beyond, so many, they nearly obscured the presence of the Trade Federation’s “ambassadors.” More droids waited inside than she preferred to handle, especially since she had to split her attention to protect the Queen, but… this was their best shot at ending the war early.
Pressing her palms against the ridges of her lightsaber reassuringly, she planned her attack as the guard counted down.
Three. Two. One.
Swinging as fast as she could, she toppled four droids before realizing…they weren’t firing back. In fact, all the droids slowly collapsed around her. Qui-Gon and the pilots must have destroyed the central comm unit. It wasn’t until later she learned it was actually the youngling who found a way through the enemy ships to power down the droids.
Swinging her blaster towards the invaders’ leader, Amidala commanded, “Now, viceroy. We will discuss a new treaty.”
Waiting for the queen’s security backup to arrive, Dooku commed, “The Zabrak is disposed of. No new information to report.”
She tried not to be concerned, but her master’s usual open connection to her was distant and…blurry? If she had to guess, he was feeling indecisive and unwilling to share something. But while the duel was unexpected, they’d dealt with worse than an angry Sith and a couple companies of droids.
The Queen quietly tapped on her shoulder, looking more like the fourteen year old she casually chatted with on the way to Naboo. “Thank you, Knight Kenobi, we couldn’t have done this without your help.”
The Queen held out her hand, offering a device the size of a fingernail. “Here is my personal communication code chip. You are always welcome to the support of Naboo, or just to call…as a friend.” she said shyly.
Obi-Wan cradled the chip like a hummingbird's egg, “I am honored. Though of course, nothing is owed for doing my duty.”
“Your advice has been invaluable…and it was nice to get to know you as just the girl Padme. I do apologize for the necessary deception.”
“You were far too authoritative to be anything other than the queen.” Obi-Wan laughed. She delicately placed the chip with her secure comm badge. “Thank you, Padme.”
The girl smiled, before pulling back on the face of a Queen, her shoulders stiffening under the weight of rebuilding Naboo.
~~~
Two days later, Obi-Wan stood in the Jedi council’s grand chambers. Mimicking her master’s perfect posture she awaited the council’s decision on how they would address the deficient information from the Republic Senate, and what to do about the unexpected nine-year-old prodigy.
Anakin fidgeted in front of her. Squeezing his shoulder she whispered, “Everything will work out. After all, you showed how much you can help.” He smiled up at her nervously.
“...we will grant Qui-Gon Jinn to be Anakin’s Master.”
“Yippee!” Anakin jumped, then cleared his throat, noting the solemnity of the occasion. “I mean… Thank you.” He bowed awkwardly to the council, then to Obi-Wan and Dooku, and smiled eagerly at Qui-Gon.
“The next topic will require more consideration.” Master Windu stated.
Dooku stepped forward, judgment clear on his face. “Naboo is the perfect example of why we must act. Once again, the senate’s faulty information almost led to the death of several Jedi and the capitulation of a peaceful, sovereign Republic world.”
Obi-Wan was not the only one with nightmares of war and death. Dooku led the mission that wiped out the ruling party of Mandalore, and she’d seen his private mission log marked with hundreds of notes he wished he had done instead of blindly trusting the senate. He may not have known better, but he was the one who dispensed death at the end of the day.
“It is not our place to dictate the course of Republic worlds, merely to support the senate in overseeing justice.” Grandmaster Windu replied.
“The senate refused to send their own aid, and they obfuscated the droid army numbers blockading Naboo. They didn’t share any information on the Sith…”
Windu interrupted, “What makes you believe the senate knew there was a Sith there?”
Dooku paused a second too long. “Perhaps they didn’t,” he said without conviction.
“Sith believe in the rule of two. Do we believe he was the master or the apprentice?”
“The apprentice.” Dooku replied.
“Then, the master must be found before more damage is done.” Windu continued.
Obi-Wan paused, she hadn’t heard anything from the Sith and Dooku told her nothing more was said between them after she left. How was he so confident this was the apprentice?
“...Master Dooku, we’ve had this debate many times. The Jedi continue to serve the Republic Senate. There are simply not enough Jedi to solve every debate across the galaxy, and the senate has the best view into the highest priority missions.”
“The senate? You must know how it is rotting from within?” Dooku retorted. “They wouldn’t even help one of their greatest benefactors because it impacted their pocketbooks. We need to build our own sources of information. Obi-Wan and I have seen the turmoil and resentment building. The corruption is making its way from the outer rim to the core—if it hasn’t already.“
”I’m sorry Dooku, we’ll look into it, but these things take time.”
”You’ve said that for the past three years.” Dooku strode out of the council room with a swish of his cape. “I guess my work here is done.”
Windu sighed, rubbing his temple. “Knight Obi-Wan?”
”I’ll go talk to him,” she said. “But you really should consider his points. We put all the Jedi at risk when we don’t have the right information.”
Walking the familiar path to her master’s, she debated what to say. They’d discussed this topic so many times, there was nothing new to add to the debate. Ten steps away the doors opened invitingly. “Come in Obi-Wan.” Dooku said.
“I guess I still can’t sneak up on you. Perhaps when I’m a master myself.”
“Perhaps, though a Master has a special bond with their student.” He ushered her inside, “You’ll always be my padawan, no matter how wise and respected you will no doubt become. You’ll see. One day with your own students,” he said with a smile.
She smiled back, the pressure of the day easing away. She’d given everything to be a Jedi, but Dooku was the first to believe in her. He picked her up–a stringy and worn out teen after surviving a year on her own leading literal younglings into battle. Many of her friends talked about how tough he was, but she liked how he pushed her to be her best. As though he saw her and knew she could be stronger, faster, kinder, and just overall better. He helped her find her place in the order and after two years together, she won the Padawan dueling title—the youngest other than Master Windu and Dooku himself.
Navigating to his tidy kitchenette, she looked around for the kettle and his well-loved tea set only to find it missing. Dooku gestured to their chairs where two elegant blue and gray tea cups whispered the warm lemony notes of her favorite tea. Sitting, she picked a lavender biscuit from the serving tray. Dooku said it was polite to have sustenance on hand for guests, but she knew he stocked these unusual flavors because they were her favorites.
“So what did the council want you to tell me this time?”
“What? So a knight can’t just want to see her master?” she said, taking a bite of her biscuit. Utterly delicious. Dooku always knew where to procure the best.
“Obi-Wan, you’re always welcome here, but you want me to believe they didn’t talk to you this time?”
Holding up her cup she let the aroma wash away the stress of the day, the steam warming her cheeks.
“They’re worried about you.”
“Hmph. They’re so focused on what’s right in front of them. They have no idea what to be worried about.”
“Master.” She said, “I know you don’t always agree on the implementation, but the council is doing their best.” She usually agreed with Dooku, but hated how often she was caught in the middle. Her younger years had been rocky and she was still trying to earn back the council’s trust.
Dooku sipped his tea thoughtfully. Glancing at her. Weighing something in his mind.
“What if there’s a better way?” he finally offered.
“A better way to what?”
“To help the galaxy, we’ve debated many times, and you even put together that report, remember? On how the Jedi have diminished in numbers and strength over the years. They've kept to the core to serve the senate–a corrupt senate that gives either idiotic or intentionally misleading information. Either way is disappointing.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow in agreement. When your life and the lives of those you protect were on the line, you certainly hoped the leaders were thorough.
“...Some…contacts have shared a movement to better represent the rim worlds.” Dooku said carefully.
Obi-Wan sat up, this was the first she’d heard of this.
”Obi-Wan, I wanted you to be the first to know: I will be resigning from the Jedi order to pursue alternate paths to influence the system.”
”You’re leaving? But all the good you’ve done… your expertise…You’re practically a member of the council.”
”The council is entrenched in the old ways. I’ve been weighing this for a while, and now that I know you’ve settled into being a knight…I’m afraid I have nothing left keeping me here.”
We have each other she thought, but what came out surprised her, “…I could come with you. Surely your grand plan could use more help.”
”It could be…no…I can’t bring you into this, not yet.”
She set down her cup. The tea suddenly cold on her tongue.
Dooku put a hand on her shoulder. “Promise me, you won’t follow the senate blindly like I did. I know you’ll give your best, and I don’t want them to use you up like they did me.”
“I promise master. You’ve taught me well.” She looked him in the eye. ”Just think over it another day. Please. We can try one last time to persuade the council…and if not, we can go together.”
Dooku paused, they could both be so stubborn. ”Alright, dear Padawan. We should both get some rest, it’s been a long day and we have much to think about.”
Bowing, she left his quarters, heart heavy. It was difficult to find a master as a young teen, and she hated the idea of being left behind, again.
Deep in the mists of confusion over Dooku’s confession, she barely avoided tripping over a small figure.
“Anakin? What are you doing up so late?”
“I wanted to apologize to Mister Dooku. I’m not sure why I made him angry but he helped Padme…”
She knelt to meet his eyes, “He’s not angry at you little one, but at the state of the galaxy.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’ve been his student for a while. Believe me, he’s quite clear when he’s disappointed in someone.”
Anakin gave her a hug, surprising her. Tentatively she patted him on the back, and asked “Did you get all your supplies? Bedding? Robes? Qui-Gon was briefly my master before Dooku, so I know he can sometimes be so focused on the Living Force he misses the physical needs in front of him.”
“Qui-Gon was your master too? Does that make you like…my big sister?”
Laughing, she tousled his hair. “I suppose so.”
“Wizard! I’ve always wanted a sister.”
“Well as your sister, let me know if there’s ever anything you need, and if I’m at the temple I’m happy to help.”
“Maybe…directions back to Qui-Gon’s?”
“Of course, and tomorrow I’ll give you a full tour.”
She walked him back to his new quarters, pointing out where to meet her for breakfast the next morning.
Just outside he turned and gave another hug. “When I’m older, I’m gonna protect the galaxy and free the slaves. Will you help me?”
“It would be my honor, young Jedi.”
He gave a deep yawn, “I just want to help…” and she ushered him to his room.
“Me too, Anakin, me too.” She ached thinking of this earnest boy as a slave. No one should have to live like that, least of all a youngling.
She contemplated her promises to Anakin and Dooku. All she’d ever wanted was to be a Jedi so she could help the people of the galaxy. She just wished the way was more clear. It had been a long day and she forced herself to bed before the fog in her brain overwhelmed her logic. Tomorrow she would talk things through with her Master and work out a better solution.
The next morning, the latest gossip echoed across the temple like a flock of migrating birds. Her Master was gone and no one, least of all her, knew where he went. Will I ever see him again? she wondered. She hoped he’d come back soon.
She was a Jedi knight, though, so she put on her strongest mask to hide the lonely, abandoned padawan underneath.