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Summary - How Obi-Wan came to the Jedi Academy.
Jur don was sitting at what passed for the reception desk at
the main public entrance of the Jedi Academy. It was a duty he
didn't mind, though it was often frustrating. His master told
him it helped him learn patience and diplomacy. Jur don thought
it kept him out of the way while his master rebuilt the
sparring room he'd accidentally trashed again.
He didn't really mind the duty. Most of the people he dealt
with were of three sorts. Curious visitors who wanted a tour of
the Academy -- those he referred to Master Codan who offered
what little public tours were ever available. Then there were
Jedi-hopefuls who came to ask for the testing. These were also
easily passed along to others -- regardless of Jur don's belief
in the chances of any given supplicant, any who came were
offered the test. Those who failed... well, it wasn't Jur don's
responsibility to tell them of the test results.
The third were 'everyone else'. Government officials,
administrators, the occasional system-to-system salesmen who
thought they had business with the Academy. If they did
have business, they went to the second entrance half a building
away. Jur don, therefore, was in charge of shooing them
politely but firmly back onto the street. Sometimes two or
three times.
More than four was considered a failure of his skills as a
Jedi Receptionist.
Today it was quiet. He was practicing his meditations when the
door opened and a young man came in. He was leading a small boy
who looked to be about two years old. Jur don smiled pleasantly
as the man approached. He already knew what the man would say.
"Pardon me, sir..."
Jur don gave the boy a smile, who was looking around him with
wide, interested eyes. Then he spoke to the man. "How may we
help you?" Jur don asked.
"I wondered... that is," the man stammered nervously, then
said quietly, "Can you test him? I think he might have the
skills of a Jedi."
Jur don nodded to himself. As he had expected. He did feel
some stirrings of the Force about these two, but it was unclear
if they were in the boy, or the man. "We will be glad to test
him...?"
"Ah, uh, my name is Ben Kenobi," the man offered. He placed
his hand on the boy's head; the boy grinned up. "This is my son
Obi-Wan."
Jur don kept the frown off his face. There was something not
quite true in the man's claim. Not quite a blatant lie... it
didn't matter, Jur don told himself. The Masters would find out
whatever they needed to know. He kept his manner calm and
polite. "Please come this way."
He led the two down the short corridor where Master Kinje met
them. Jur don made the introductions, and left them in the
Master's capable hands. He returned to the front desk and
resumed his duties, wondering what Kinje would find.
He was pleased when, shortly after, the man who called himself
Ben Kenobi returned without his son. Jur don greeted him.
"Well, sir! Have we a new student then?"
Kenobi nodded. "Your Master Kinje says he has the skills, says
he will be trained."
"Excellent! If you will please come with me, we shall make
arrangements-"
The man interrupted him. "I understand... he will be kept
here, is that right? You will train him, raise him?"
The worry returned which the young Jedi had felt earlier.
"That is correct, but as he is a student here you are free to
find quarters on Courisant and see your son often."
Jur don was not entirely surprised when the boy's father shook
his head. "I cannot. I have... my wife was killed you see, and
I have matters to attend to."
Jur don suddenly felt strong unease and he focused on the man
before him. "I see danger in your path," he said softly. "Would
you go, then, and leave your son an orphan?"
The man shook his head. "He won't be an orphan. He'll be a
Jedi."
Jur don tried to see again the fate of this man's path, but a
flash interrupted his concentration and the picture in his mind
vanished. He tried again. "Perhaps we can be of service," he
offered, but the man shook his head and headed for the door.
Jur don thought briefly of stopping him, but such was not the
way of a Jedi Knight. A man could not be forced from choosing
his own danger.
As the man left, Jur don took his seat once again. The
stirrings in the Force disturbed him. The man had within him
the same potential as his son -- though he was too old now, for
training. It was that which had no doubt led him to recognize
his own son's abilities. But where was he going that he would
not return?
Jur don shook his head. He would tell his Master, and hope for
the best.
Kor Angar rushed towards the space port. His ship was waiting
for him, docked under the name of a shipping company owned by
the uncle of a friend of his late wife. The deceit would be
enough, he prayed.
He quickly found his ship, exactly as he had left it. No one
watching, no one waiting for him. No one waiting to track his
steps and find his son. He would be safe, Kor assured himself.
No one could protect the boy better than an Academy of Jedi.
It was pure luck that they had accepted his son. Kor had only
hoped that the skills he had felt in his son were truly those
of a Jedi. Had they turned them down, he would simply have had
to abandon the boy on their back doorstep. Kor climbed aboard
his ship and began his pre-flight. He had no expectations that
he would ever return. That was fine. If somehow he survived, he
would return. Someday. If not... his son was safe.
After getting permission to take-off, he flipped one screen
on. It showed the Jedi Academy, standing tall and proud in the
skies. He flipped the screen closed again and blasted off.
He flew a circuitous route, landing frequently to refuel or
simply pass time to avoid trackers. Twice he sold his ship and
bought passage elsewhere, buying another small shuttle and
continuing his flight. Kor had no idea if his efforts were
necessary, or if they would even work. But the man who had
killed his wife and threatened the life of his son was
powerful, and had many resources.
If it only slowed him down... well, at least he had tried.
It was nearly three months after he had left his son at the
Academy that Kor landed on an obscure planet named Inthia. He
landed at the single port on the north continent, nervous as
anything but determined that now he could not back down. There
was no one to greet him as he stepped out into the hot, humid
landing field. A long warehouse/hanger stood to one side and
there was a sign over a door proclaiming it to be the office.
He ignored it. He knew where he was going.
He began to walk away from his ship, hearing the doors
automatically cycle closed and lock. Perhaps another useless
gesture, but one he made all the same. Kor checked the gun in
its holster as he walked, the crunch of twigs under his boots
cautioning him that no attempt to sneak up on this man would
succeed. He nodded as he confirmed a full charge. Didn't
matter. He had allowed for that. He checked other weapons
scattered about his person. Shock grenades, a mini-blaster,
even an ancient electric staff. All primed and ready.
He reached the end of the warehouse and turned. He could see
the edges of the town stretching away into the thick, heavy
plant growth. The bugs were beginning to settle on his skin and
he wiped at them absently. Steeling his nerve, he headed for
town.
An hour later he stood before a small, unassuming building. It
looked like a mechanics' shop but Kor knew better. He had been
here once before, when the man inside had made his offer.
Kor had refused, then, and continued refusing until his wife
died -- "mysteriously" -- in an explosion. He knew the truth.
And now the man responsible would pay.
He swung the door open and stepped inside, brave in his
growing need for revenge. As soon as he'd left Obi-Wan behind,
he had felt it growing. Kept tucked away from detection so the
Jedi would not question him, in the last two months it had
grown. Grown until it nearly consumed him. He glanced into the
darkness.
It was silent. He walked further in. Kor knew he was
here. He could feel it. He searched the huge room but saw
nothing moving. Finally he shouted, "Come out! You know why I'm
here!"
For a moment there was nothing. Then a figure moved out of the
shadows. The figure was shadow, himself, draped in black robes.
Kor grabbed his gun and fired -- even as the gun was ripped
from his hand. He barely blinked and reached for the second
gun. As it too, was pulled from his hand, he began running
forward. He grabbed a grenade and let it fly, not watching as
an invisible hand caught it and smothered its explosion.
The two that followed were dealt with the same way; by now he
was fairly on top of the man. He reached for the staff and
swung, the black figure leapt into the air and vanished. Kor
spun, and saw nothing. He spun again, staff out in front of
him, but still he was alone.
Then he felt a touch on his shoulder, and he could no longer
move.
"You fight well, for one untrained," a voice hissed in his
ear.
"Well enough to kill you," Kor grated.
"Oh, I think not," the voice replied. The last thing Kor heard
was the man's insidious chuckle.
The dark figure stared down at his attacker and smiled. "This
one will do nicely," he said aloud. "He is already halfway down
the path. All he needs is proper training and he shall make a
worthy new apprentice. When he wakes, he shall be known as
Maul."
The Dark Lord stepped over the unconscious man and began
making his plans.
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