Chapter 5

“I have a difficult situation to discuss with you,” Jaro said quietly as he joined Obi-Wan on the meditation mat in the training area. He’d yet to use the large room for anything else.

“How can I help?” Obi-Wan questioned.

It was gratifying that the offer of help came immediately. The boy had every right to be disillusioned and uninterested in anyone else’s problems. Unfortunately, Jaro’s current problem involved Obi-Wan.

“I received a comm from Master Ioan Tholme.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “My friend Quinlan is his padawan—they went to Bandomeer. Are they okay? Did something awful happened?”

“Yes, to both of those questions,” Jaro admitted frankly. “Neither were physically injured but your unease about your friend being on Bandomeer was entirely justified. Master Tholme is bringing his padawan back to the temple in all due haste. Padawan Vos was exposed to….” He grimaced because he had to say what had actually happened, but he knew the boy would respond very negatively. “The slave collar you wore was in a crate of evidence gathered by the investigation team.”

“No,” Obi-Wan said and tears welled his eyes. “He didn’t. Tell me he didn’t.”

“I can’t,” Jaro murmured and cupped his shoulder gently when tears spilled down his cheeks. “He was briefly, less than hour, made catatonic after he picked up the collar. The last message I received from Master Tholme assured me that his padawan is conscious and coherent. But, he’s requested that Quinlan be allowed to see you at least briefly.

“You don’t have to allow it, Obi-Wan. You have every right to your privacy during this very difficult time, and no one would say otherwise.”

Obi-Wan brushed tears from his face and looked down at his hands which were twisting together in a fashion that looked truly painful. “Quinlan is my closest friend…was.” He shuddered. “Is. He is my best friend, and I’ve only avoided him because I didn’t want him to see what happened to me on Bandomeer. His gift of psychometry is prodigious, and I’ve tried to replace every single thing I had with me on Bandomeer to get rid of anything that could trigger his gift.”

“Except for your lightsaber,” Jaro said. “Is that why you’re struggling with it, boy?”

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan confessed. “I don’t resent it, if that’s your concern. It wasn’t like the kyber crystal abandoned me.” He touched the weapon briefly then took a deep breath. “Do you know what kind of ship Quinlan is on? It took Master Jinn just over eight days to get me back here from Bandomeer.”

“He took the fastest ship the Order had in orbit,” Jaro said. “They’ll be here in six days, perhaps seven if they encounter any refueling issues.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “That’s a long time for him to be…so worried. Can we comm them now?”

“I’ll find out,” Jaro murmured and stood. “Obi-Wan.”

The boy shifted slightly then stood. “Sir?”

“Is he just a friend?”

Obi-Wan flushed. “I mean….” He shrugged. “I’ve never had sexual contact with anyone, if that’s your question.”

“It wasn’t,” Jaro said dryly. “You aren’t old enough for sexual congress, so I hope you refrain until you mature, but there is more than one kind of intimacy.”

“Oh, well.” Obi-Wan made a face. “I tell him stuff and we used to…meditate together as friends.”

“Oh, to be so innocent,” Jaro said as he shook his head and walked away.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan questioned as he trotted after him. “Am I not supposed to meditate with my friends?”

“It’s perfectly acceptable to meditate with others,” Jaro said in amusement as he entered his personal quarters. The boy hesitated at the entrance. “You can enter.”

Obi-Wan stepped in hesitantly then walked over to the desk where Jaro had taken a seat. He sent a quick text-only message to the ship that Ioan Tholme was on then focused on the boy.

“But?” Obi-Wan prodded.

“But,” Jaro continued. “Someone with a very sensitive Force sense, like you, and another with a gift like psychometry might find meditating together in close proximity far more…stimulating than normal.”

Obi-Wan’s cheeks darkened and his eyes went wide. “I keep myself to myself, sir. I promise.”

“Does your friend Quinlan have a touchstone—an object that he can focus on to settle himself?”

“Yes, we found a small stone pendant in a shop once when Matron Sheva took us to the shopping center.” Obi-Wan bit down on his bottom lip and clasped his hands behind his back. “He asked me to…carry it around for a while then he took it to keep.”

“So, you wore this pendant,” Jaro clarified.

“Yes, for about a week.”

“You’re aware of your friend’s path within the Order, correct?”

“He wants to be a Shadow. It’s why he sought Master Tholme’s attention,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“Such members of the Order are very important to our goals as an organization, but they’re also vulnerable to an immense amount of emotional damage during the course of their jobs. Often, they have a single individual in their life that becomes central to their emotional well-being. It’s clear that Padawan Vos has chosen you, perhaps he didn’t even realize what he was doing.”

“I shouldn’t have said no to him visiting me,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I’ve made a mistake.”

“You’re not required to accept this obligation, Obi-Wan,” Jaro murmured. “But you did create his touchstone—in what was clearly an innocent and wholesome exchange for you both.”

“It’s not an obligation,” Obi-Wan said. “It feels like an honor, and it also feels like I was being really selfish when I first came back to the temple. I wouldn’t have hurt my friends on purpose. Are the others just as…upset, you think?”

“I think if they were, I’d have already been told,” Jaro said. “All of the students at the academy are being monitored because of what happened to you. Yaddle understands that your situation has impacted them all—they’re very worried about their own safety because of Yoda’s actions.”

“They have every right to be,” Obi-Wan said and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re supposed to be able to trust the Order. I always thought I could.”

“And now?” Jaro prodded.

“Now I know I can’t,” the boy said flatly, exhaled sharply at the admission and left his quarters.

Jaro watched the door shut then focused on the comm station, which remained silent. He pinged Eeth’s office comm and his lover immediately answered, appearing in a hologram on top of the station.

“How are you?” Eeth questioned.

“Furious,” Jaro admitted. “For several reasons, but mostly because I don’t have any sort of authority or right to lecture Ioan Tholme for allowing his padawan near the gathered evidence on Bandomeer. It’s bad enough that Obi-Wan went through it, but now another child has been damaged by this very specific experience.”

“Yaddle has removed all the padawans from Bandomeer and is considering a full recall of all padawans currently in the field,” Eeth said. “Thoughts?”

“Short-sighted,” Jaro said. “But she’s fairly emotional right now. The decision for Bandomeer is reasonable for not for the whole of the Order. A working relationship with the Force requires a working environment. We can’t coddle padawans as if they’re infants.”

“I’m a little surprised.”

“I believe we have a duty to train Jedi, Eeth. That doesn’t equal ill-considered and thoughtless actions. I’ve trained two padawans on long-term missions as you know, mostly in the Outer Rim, and managed it just fine. It’s not about their age, it’s about the care their masters do not give.”

“We’re not taught to invest in others in that fashion,” Eeth said.

“And the Order, as a whole, is clearly suffering for it,” Jaro murmured and Eeth nodded. “We need to better. Be better.”

“How did he take the news about Quinlan Vos?”

“He cried,” Jaro said flatly and his lover winced. “Which makes me want to punch Tholme in the face no matter how inappropriate that is to think and do.”

“Well, I’m sure Tholme is quite upset by this, Jaro. He’s never been careless with a student in any circumstance. It’s clear he wasn’t fully informed about Quinlan Vos’ relationship with Obi-Wan. He shouldn’t have been sent to Bandomeer at all.”

“Granted,” Jaro muttered and slouched a little in his seat.

“Do you regret agreeing to this?” Eeth questioned.

“No, not at all,” Jaro said with a shake of his head. “I’m honored that Yaddle trusts me with me the boy. She’s clearly invested in his future with the Order, and my success or failure in this situation will have a great deal of impact on how we teach going forward.”

“I agree,” Eeth said. “And you don’t deserve the pressure of it. But, I can’t see anyone else doing it. You’ve a lot of social capital to spend in the Order, and precious few people are prepared to argue with you.”

Jaro raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m intimidating?”

“No, I’m saying some people are intimidated,” Eeth retorted and smiled when Jaro sighed. “I’m not, for the record.”

“Is that so?” Jaro questioned.

“I can pretend to be, if you like,” Eeth said then glanced away from the holocapture. “I have a visitor in the atrium. Take care, darling.”

“You as well,” Jaro murmured and the comm ended with a sparkle of light.

There was a little knock on the door, so Jaro stood. “Enter.”

Obi-Wan was standing just outside the door when it slid open, cheeks flushed. “You didn’t…have your privacy filter on, sir.”

“Ah.” Jaro inclined his head. “Do you have questions?”

“You are breaking the rules, sir.”

“Am I?” Jaro questioned. “Which rule exactly?”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth then closed it with a frown. “The tenets….” He trailed off and frowned. “You’re breaking Master Yoda’s rule.”

“So, you understand that the tenets have literally nothing to say about our personal relationships as long as we are prepared to put our service to the Force first,” Jaro said and the boy nodded slowly.  “Now, do you have any questions?”

“I’ve had a thorough sex education,” Obi-Wan blurted out and huffed a little as if he was frustrated. “I just…. It’s clearly more than that between you and Master Koth.”

“We’ve been partners and lovers for sixty-four years,” Jaro said. “Shortly before we were knighted, in fact. It’s not exactly a secret, but we’ve never had a problem separating our duty from our personal relationship so there has never been any official conversation about it. Neither his master nor mine have ever expressed an issue with it.”

“I thought….” Obi-Wan frowned but then nodded slowly. “It seemed like being Jedi was a sacrifice—an immense one that meant I couldn’t have anything or anyone but the Order. It was never a problem before but now it seems like…a stupid risk.”

“Because you don’t trust the Jedi Order as an organization,” Jaro said.

“Right,” Obi-Wan admitted. “And that makes me really sad. It’s like something got taken from me and I didn’t even know I had it until it was gone. Maybe it’s Matron Sheva’s fault.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jaro questioned with a frown.

“She’s so good to us, in the crèche, and it creates expectations that clearly aren’t going to be met after we leave her care,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s wrong to blame her because she is such a good person, but she creates expectations that other adult Jedi clearly have no intention of meeting.”

“Don’t paint us all with the same brush, boy,” Jaro said. “We’re not all as manipulative as Yoda or as damaged as Qui-Gon Jinn.”

Obi-Wan stared for a moment, lips pressed together. “I had another vision about his future murder, and I spoke to the woman on Naboo again. Well, I spoke to a version of a woman on Naboo.”

“Why do you think you keep connecting to her?” Jaro questioned.

“Because her son killed a Jedi. I don’t know who and I don’t know when, but he was rejected by the Order and he killed the person who delivered the news,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I don’t even know her name.”

Jaro considered that. “But it’s interesting that you keep having visions about Qui-Gon Jinn’s murder and this woman. If they’re connected that can only mean one thing.”

“Master Dooku,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “I’ve considered it, of course. He’s the only Jedi in recent memory that was murdered and the situation remains unresolved.” He paused. “Though I don’t know why his death was classified as a murder.”

“Because he was shot in the back with a blaster,” Jaro murmured. “Jedi die in combat, and we accept that, but Yan Dooku was assassinated—murdered without any sort of fight or explanation on a Republic world that is normally known to be quiet peaceful.”

“So, her son is a coward,” Obi-Wan said. “Of course, if he wasn’t trained it was the only way he could’ve gotten the best of a Jedi Master of Master Dooku’s power.”

“Granted,” Jaro agreed. “We’ve meandered away from the topic a bit. Are you uncomfortable with my relationship with Eeth Koth?”

“Not exactly,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s not what I expected, and not what I was taught to consider appropriate. Master Yoda’s influence is….” He sighed. “Corruptive. I don’t know if it was his intention all along, or if experience just made him the way he is over time.” He crossed his arms. “Master Koth is a good Jedi—strong, intelligent, and honorable. So, I guess, he’ll have to do because we both know you could do worse. Does Master Frantar know? I should ask her what she thinks.”

“Boy, you are treading on incredibly thin ice,” Jaro said dryly and Obi-Wan laughed.

The comm station pinged and he walked to it. He reviewed the message he’d received and nodded.

“We’ve an appointment in the main communication center for a holo-call with Ioan Tholme and his padawan in an hour,” Jaro said.

“It’s always very busy in there,” Obi-Wan said. “The isolation booths are small and made entirely of glass.”

“I’ll reserve a private room,” Jaro said. “Yaddle will make sure I get it.”

“Is that preferential treatment?”

“Yes, but it’s about me, not you,” Jaro said as he sat back down. “I’m her favorite and the very last student she trained before retiring from that process.”

“I’m not going to fault the results of such nepotistic behavior,” Obi-Wan decided. “We need food—being upset makes me hungry.”

“I’ll join you in a few moments.”

He made the appointment, requested a private room, and flagged Yaddle it the request then sent a confirmation message to Tholme. After that, he sent Eeth a message letting him know that Obi-Wan didn’t want to risk Jaro doing worse for himself, so he approved of their relationship. He could just imagine Eeth’s face as he read it. More amused than anything, he went off to find the boy that was slowly but surely rearranging his entire life.

Obi-Wan was at the kitchen table with a cup of soup, a piece of dark brown bread, and a datapad.

“Don’t read while you eat,” Jaro said as he went to the synth. He pulled a bowl of stew for himself and noted that the datapad was facedown on the table when he turned around. “Do you read for entertainment or merely for education?”

“I don’t enjoy fiction,” Obi-Wan said. “But I do read history and technology materials that are not directly related to my studies…so I guess that’s entertaining. You?”

“Mystery and suspense novels,” he answered as he sat. “Sometimes immersing yourself in a fictional situation can be stress relieving. Is fiction emotionally off-putting to you?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“You’re hardly the first Force-positive person I’ve encountered with Force sense, Obi-Wan. Manufactured emotions can be disconcerting and having your emotions manipulated with fictional circumstances is probably annoying.”

“Very annoying,” the boy admitted. “I have a difficult time, already, separating visions from my reality without adding fictional situations and worlds to it. Bant likes adventure stories, she was always trying to get us to read them.”

“And the others?”

“Garen prefers to read engineering texts outside of his academic work, and Quinlan avoids reading outside of class. He says he has better things to do which suited me just fine because he never got weird about my own choices of reading material. It was always easy to get him to do calisthenics, and Force exercises because he would do anything to get out of what he considered to be busy work.”

“Do you want to talk about your future and what you want for yourself?” Jaro questioned.

“Not particularly,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I used to be very certain and now I’m not. Being a Jedi Knight was the goal from practically the beginning. No other option seemed remotely possible for me, but now things are hard and the galaxy is mean.”

“The galaxy at large has always been mean,” Jaro said. “And that’s a tragedy. But there is good out there, and there are people who deserve protection and justice.”

Obi-Wan nodded and tore his bread in half. “I think…I used to believe that it was a Jedi’s duty to protect others and seek justice. Now both ideals seem flimsy, as if neither is substantial enough to satisfy me.”

“Because you understand betrayal and injustice on a level you didn’t before,” Jaro said quietly and dragged his spoon through the stew before pushing it aside. He was hungry, but eating didn’t appeal at all. “I realize you’d prefer to have a private conversation with your friend, but due to the circumstances I can’t allow it.”

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m not stable—emotionally or within the Force. Sometimes…I feel this shuddery, shaking motion in my chest—as if the Force is breaking me from the inside out. I know that doesn’t make any sort of sense but that’s how it feels.”

“Do you know what a shatterpoint is?” Jaro questioned and Obi-Wan exhaled slowly as he pushed his soup away from.

“A point of failure or change—a fracture in a person, event, or physical object that can be exploited for good and bad to change the outcome of a situation,” Obi-Wan murmured. “I can’t see them.”

“Neither can I,” Jaro said. “But Yaddle can and so can Master Windu. Sometimes the weight of our decisions—no matter how large or small they are can change the fate of millions.”

“Or just one,” Obi-Wan said.

“Or just one,” he agreed and the boy nodded slowly.

“It’s me. I’m the shatterpoint.”

Jaro watched emotion play over the boy’s face—shock then a quiet resolve that was relieving to see. “Yes.”

“I wondered,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“Wondered what?”

“Why you came back to Coruscant—why you were chosen to put me back together. Your experience with slavery is probably the reason everyone else wholeheartedly believes.”

“It was certainly a factor in favor of the decision,” Jaro agreed.

“But not the main reason.”

“No, there are others who could’ve gently guided you back onto the proper path of a Jedi Knight,” Jaro agreed. “But you were always meant to be more than that, Obi-Wan. Yaddle sees it. Even Yoda sees it, which is why he wanted you in his lineage. You were chosen to bandage Qui-Gon Jinn’s battered ego because of your empathy and talent. You were also chosen because of Yoda’s vanity. He wanted a shining light in his linage and that is exactly what you are in your generation.”

“Well, I was.”

“You survived Bandomeer,” Jaro said. “You’ll stand as Jedi Knight when the day comes. You will never, ever fall to the dark side. You are still the shining light of your generation, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“I joked with Matron Sheva about getting you to teach me how to be a legend in my own time,” Obi-Wan said with a pouty frown. “It’s like the Force just slapped me in the back of the head for my audacity.”

Jaro just nodded as it was fundamentally true. “I hesitate to say it, but the fact is that the Force will probably make a habit of it for the rest of your life. Why should you be spared when the rest of us aren’t?”

“That’s so rude,” Obi-Wan muttered.

* * * *

Even in the holocapture, Quinlan looked drawn and incredibly ill. Obi-Wan stared for a long moment, tears welling in his eyes.

“So, your first time out of the temple, you do something utterly idiotic,” he said flatly.

Quinlan huffed and laughed at the same time. “It’s good to see you, too, Obi.”

“Why would you do such a thing?” Obi-Wan demanded and took a deep breath to calm down because he was suddenly so furious.

“I apologize for invading your privacy without any due cause,” Quinlan said quietly. “You weren’t talking to any of us and I just…I needed to know what happened to you on Bandomeer. When the chance came, I took it.”

“I don’t want an apology for that part,” Obi-Wan said and crossed his arms. “You hurt yourself on purpose, Quinlan. You promised me you’d never do that unless you had no choice.” He waved both hands. “You had plenty of choices!”

“I don’t think I did,” Quinlan retorted and glanced briefly to his left then shrugged. “It’s my job to gather information and sometimes that’s going to hurt. I learned a lot from the experience.”

“About me.”

“I already knew all the important stuff about you, Obi,” Quinlan said. “I learned a lot about my gift, and how to control it. I also learned how much control I don’t have. It will shape my exercises and training going forward.”

Obi-Wan scowled at him. “Don’t try to twist this into a learning experience, Quin!”

“Everything is a learning experience,” his friend said and shrugged when Obi-Wan huffed. “Stop being mad about it—it’s contrary to your nature and it’ll just give you a headache.” He paused. “I’m okay.”

“You were catatonic,” Obi-Wan muttered.

“It’s happened before. I dug too deep and that’s my fault not yours. None of this is your fault.”

“Would you have picked up that slave collar if I’d accepted your comms?” Obi-Wan questioned and Quinlan hesitated. “Right.”

“It didn’t feel personal—you weren’t talking to anyone and that’s…well. I know friendship weighs on you differently than it does others. I admit the others aren’t handling it well. Siri is especially offended by the overt rejection. Is your account still locked down?”

“Yes, I’ll probably make an exception list in a few days but after the tribunal, I can’t see ever opening it back up completely to everyone in the Order,” Obi-Wan said frankly. “I’ll have to set up a series of filters, too, for outside communications and the whole thing is irritating. And I really don’t want to talk to Siri at all right now. She doesn’t have any sort of real control over herself and just emotes all over me every single chance she gets. It’s annoying and intrusive.”

Quinlan nodded. “Stop worrying about me. Master Tholme is taking good care of me.”

“If he didn’t lecture you for a whole hour after you woke up, he isn’t doing his job,” Obi-Wan said hotly and that caused Master Tapal to laugh. He glanced toward the Jedi Master, who was seated just out of the holocapture range. “He’s there with you, right?”

“Yeah, of course. The only privacy I’m getting right now is in the vac,” Quinlan said. “But I brought it on myself so I can’t even complain. Thanks for calling, I know you have a lot of stressful things to deal with.”

“You know that better than I ever wanted you to,” Obi-Wan said frankly. “I threw away everything I had on Bandomeer by my lightsaber to prevent this exact thing from happening, Quin.” He paused. “Even my favorite boots.”

“They certainly were ruined anyway,” Quinlan said and shrugged.

True.

Obi-Wan made a face at him. “I’m going to write a treatise detailing your utterly idiotic behavior, and you have to read every single word.”

“You know I always read everything you write,” Quinlan said. “Even the really boring stuff about modern perspectives on the ancient rules of war on backwater Mid-Rim planets I never plan to visit.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth then shut it because he’d written more than one essay that could be described exactly that way. It was deeply annoying. He slouched a little.

“How are you really?”

“I’ll be okay,” Quinlan assured. “I had immediate medical care, and Master Tholme has helped me sort through the memories to separate them from my own. He also helped me understand that…Obi-Wan, you know you couldn’t have kept this from me, right? No matter how much you try to separate yourself from Bandomeer, the trauma resonates in you, and it bleeds all over everything you touch. It will for years, maybe it always will. You can’t control it, and trying would only break you.”

“My only solace in that information is that psychometry is a very rare gift,” Obi-Wan said. “And that’s not really all that comforting.” He waved a hand. “While I can’t control it, I know you can, Quin. You’ve been learning to control it for years.”

“Ah well, Master Tholme tells me that emotional attachments can make such control difficult to maintain. Basically, and this is rude to admit, but deep down in an ugly place everyone has—I think I have a right to know everything about you specifically. I’ll work on myself, of course, since that’s the road to moral bankruptcy, but for now this is what we’re working with.”

Obi-Wan looked at Master Tapal. “Can you believe him?”

“Shadows don’t think anyone should have secrets from them,” Master Tapal said with a shrug. “It makes your friend uniquely suited to the role. Moral bankruptcy is a feature not a flaw amongst those ranks.”

“I think Bandomeer has destroyed my ability to be civil,” Obi-Wan said darkly. “And that is beyond the pale.” He crossed his arms. “Send me a message before you arrive so we can arrange to meet.”

“Please contact Bant and Garen between now and then,” Quinlan said. “Even if you say very little, it will help them both. The tribunal was brutal to watch, Obi, and they’re not okay.” He frowned. “And I realize that you can’t make anyone’s feelings a priority right now but making room for our friends in times of immense change is what we owe ourselves.”

Obi-Wan frowned at him.

“Friendships aren’t built on air, Obi. They require time, attention, and honesty. You don’t have to accept coddling, but acknowledging the worry of others is good. It’ll help them acknowledge their own struggle,” Quinlan said. “And with deep personal connections comes with responsibilities.”

“You’re being more reasonable than I can tolerate currently,” Obi-Wan said and grimaced when he got laughed at from three different directions. “Also, you look exhausted and sad, which is hurting my feelings.”

“Ah, well, you’re back to normal if you’re emotionally blackmailing me,” Quinlan said.

“I’d never do anything so pedestrian,” Obi-Wan denied. “Get some sleep.”

“I will. May be the Force be with you, Obi-Wan.”

“And with you,” Obi-Wan said quietly and the image faded as the transmission was cut. He slumped a little. “So, we’re probably more than friends. I guess.”

Master Tapal laughed. “It sneaks up on you. I do have something to discuss with you that I neglected to do when we met. A mistake, in retrospect, that you might find very disconcerting. We’ll discuss it after you prepare for a training exercise.”

Obi-Wan stewed in that information all the way back to the private training suite. He shed his robe and took it to his room to store it. He took off his boots and changed his clothes—choosing a tunic and a pair of loose-fitting pants. He put on a pair of flat-soled shoes designed and used exclusively in the training areas of the temple.

He went back out into the training room and found Master Tapal already sitting in meditation. Obi-Wan joined him, folding his legs together easily and trying to settle his mind as Force energy drifted around the Lasat master like an ocean. He waited in silence as it was clear that Master Tapal was gathering his thoughts for the conversation and he didn’t want to interrupt.

After several minutes, Master Tapal opened his eyes and focused on him.

“Are you angry with your friend or are you frustrated by his actions?” Master Tapal questioned.

“Can it be both?” Obi-Wan questioned. “I accept the fact that his gift was beyond his control when he was younger and that means he pretty much knows all there is to know about me. I’d hoped with maturity and training that he’d rein it in. I’ve never set explicit boundaries with him on the subject because I didn’t want him to think that I didn’t trust him.”

“He’s certainly mature enough now for a boundary conversation and if your friendship cannot withstand such a thing then there are fundamental problems at play,” Master Tapal said—his tone firm but also quite gentle as if he was delivering an uncomfortable truth.

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Master Tapal said and pulled a smooth red stone from his pocket. “This is my touchstone.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “You have psychometry.”

“Yes, and a very shallow form of Force sense as well,” Master Tapal said. “I’ve worked in various departments within the Order since I was knighted and chose the path of a Guardian because it suited my sense of justice and my desire to work against the slave trade in the Mid and Outer Rim. Through years of work and dedication, I rarely have a problem tamping down my psychometry, and don’t struggle with an over-developed sense of curiosity.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “Grand Master Yaddle has it as well.”

“Yes, and Master Windu but it is a rare gift—one in a thousand Jedi are gifted in such a fashion, so the training methods are honestly hit and miss across the board. Those of us gifted with it are instructed in private at the academy, and often by someone who is not similarly gifted. I personally struggled with it until I became a padawan and had the undivided attention of Master Yaddle.”

“Was it difficult to master after that?”

“Very,” Master Tapal admitted. “But I eventually settled into the gift as well as anyone can. Master Tholme is extremely gifted with psychometry, and he is an excellent teacher. Your friend couldn’t be in better hands on that front.”

“But he took Quinlan to Bandomeer,” Obi-Wan said sourly.

“He accepted an assignment without complaint and took his padawan into the field as he has done for decades,” Master Tapal said. “Of course, he also neglected to question that padawan regarding his personal relationships. Please trust he won’t make that particular mistake again.”

“Interesting distinction.”

“No one is perfect,” Master Tapal said. “And expecting is inappropriate and can turn abusive in some situations.”

Obi-Wan considered that. “Could you elaborate?”

“When you expect perfection from another person or even a situation, you can create an environment where any perceived failure is extremely inappropriate. Such a situation would create issues with emotional regulation and self-esteem,” Master Tapal said. “Admitting any mistake would start to feel like a punishment in itself.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I can see how that situation could quickly become genuinely damaging. I’ll work on creating reasonable expectations.” He paused. “As much as I can.”

Master Tapal raised an eyebrow and leaned back on his hands. “I’ve not used psychometry on anything you own.”

Obi-Wan stared for a moment, nodded, and unhooked his lightsaber from his belt. He put it down on the floor between them. “I think…you should.”

“Why?” Master Tapal questioned.

“You need to know how damaged I am.” Obi-Wan shrugged like it didn’t hurt to say. “I just…you should be prepared. Grand Master Yaddle wants you to train me, right?”

Master Tapal stared for a moment and slowly nodded. “It’s on the table, but what you want matters to me more.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Before Bandomeer, being a Jedi Knight was the goal—the only goal. Part of me thinks that I don’t deserve it anymore.”

“I’d like you to eject that thought into space,” Master Tapal said tartly and Obi-Wan stared in shock for a moment. “Are you sure?” he questioned with a motion toward the lightsaber.

“Yes, sir,” Obi-Wan said.

Master Tapal picked the lightsaber carefully and his eyes flickered shut. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and watched Force energy flow around him. The control the Jedi Master exerted over the Force in and around him was very relieving. The discipline and deliberate movement felt safe, and that feeling was very valuable to him. Maybe it always would be, and he’d have to adjust to that.

After nearly ten minutes, Master Tapal slowly put the lightsaber back down on the floor between them. Obi-Wan didn’t speak, not because of fear, but because he really didn’t know what to say. He realized, in retrospect, that he hadn’t put any sort of boundary on Master Tapal’s use of his gift.

“You did very well, Obi-Wan,” Master Tapal said quietly. “In those circumstances, I couldn’t have asked for more from a student. You survived and protected yourself in a very dangerous situation. The life we lead, as Jedi, can be very rewarding but in order to get to such a place emotionally we must be prepared to defend the very heart of us from damage. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” Obi-Wan said quietly. “There comes a point, in any situation, where my survival and emotional well-being must come before anything else.”

“Yes, do you know why?”

“Because the dark side lurks in all of us,” Obi-Wan said and averted his gaze. “I never want to fall—it looks like it hurts. Xanatos looked tortured in every single way possible. There appeared to be no end of his corruption, but I guess there was since he died and the darkness he embraced kept him from rejoining the Force.”

“Did watching Qui-Gon Jinn kill his former padawan make you fear him?” Master Tapal questioned.

“No, but it did make me realize that he…didn’t trust himself. He didn’t trust Xanatos and probably never did—maybe that was the root of their corrupted relationship. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. I can’t see how I could ever trust Master Jinn with my future. I don’t even trust him with his own.”