Master Apprentice Archive Bruck Tales: The Shadowed Force Quick search:

Summary: It's hard to pity Obi-Wan when you've been thrown to the Dark before the story even begins. Bruck Chun struggles to live with the consequences of giving in to a single moment of Darkness.
This is Bruck's POV on the opening chapters of JA#1: The Rising Force.
First in an intended series.

Categories: Bruck/Obi-Wan, Non Q/O, Angst, Pre-Slash, Point of View

Rated G.
Not even remotely Q/O, Angst, Point of View.

Thank you to Holly, for being the big meanie that inspired this (pick on someone ya own size!) and for the early advice. Thank you to Mary Wiecek, for the edit and for being an all-'round honey. There is a set of manacles beside my computer with your name on them, Mary.

Star Wars and everything in it is the property of Lucasfilm. This story is directly based on chapters from 'The Rising Force', written by Dave Wolverton.

Feedback brings joy. Critiques and good ol' conversation are treasured at drsquidlove@virginqueen.com.

It had been a split-second decision. Nothing to indicate the importance of it, no time to weigh the futures that might be played out. For only that moment, Bruck had forgotten his training and let fear guide him. He made the wrong decision.

It wasn't quite like the Masters said. They made it sound like letting the Dark Side take you meant that you could never be happy or normal again. He'd thought that everyone in the Temple would sense it, and you'd be struck down by fifty righteous Jedi all at once.

It wasn't like that at all. Everyone treated him just the same, and he even felt mostly the same, but ever since, the Fear had stayed with him, stirring in his stomach. He felt it in everything he did, sometimes just 'there', quiet, but always churning through him when he tried to let his darker emotions into the Force. Especially when Obi-Wan Kenobi was around.

He'd started noticing Obi-Wan when they were eleven. Bruck didn't know him well; they moved in different circles, but it was well known that Obi-Wan was a good fighter and a good student. All of the teachers took pride in him, and he was one of Yoda's rare favourites. He was quiet, but everyone liked him. Including Bruck.

Bruck hadn't known why he found himself paying so much attention to the other boy, only that he liked to watch him fight. The teachers sometimes paired them to fight each other, which Bruck loved. But after each of their fights, Obi-Wan would turn to the supervising Master to accept the corrections and inevitable praise, bow, and walk away. Didn't even seem to notice his opponent existed.

Bruck was playing around in the corridor with Tussen and Rellia, bragging about his win over Obi-Wan the day before. "He leapt over the blocks and I swung down, making him twist left, and he went that way and I went *that* way..."

It was enough that Bruck's skills were improving, and to feel a measure of respect from his older friends, but Bruck's real pride was for the quick smile and the nod of congratulations that Obi-Wan had given him afterwards. He should have taken the opportunity to ask Obi-Wan to train with him some time, but before he could gather the wit to make the request, Obi-Wan had bounded off to greet his Calamarian friend.

"...just scored me - see the mark? - but I spun and-" The brief linger of a warm body crashing into him, and then Bruck fell gracelessly to the floor.

Electricity charged through him, flaring in his brain and he suddenly recognised his feelings. It was *passion*. They learned about such feelings in classes, but wanting someone like that...

He looked up, and Obi-Wan was staring down at him. "Sorry. Are you all right?" There wasn't even a hint of recognition. Bruck wanted to touch Obi-Wan, to kiss him and hold hands somewhere where they were all alone, and Obi-Wan didn't even know who Bruck was. He was nobody.

And his friends were laughing at him, sprawled on the ground. Had they noticed the flare of want? Bruck hurriedly checked his shields, but couldn't know if he'd let anything through. Humiliation piled on humiliation.

Maybe Obi-Wan did remember him. Maybe he was trying to get even for yesterday's defeat. Bruck scrambled to his feet, trying to pretend he didn't realise how irrational that sounded. He had to turn the laughter away from himself, show them that he wasn't bothered at all. Obi-Wan didn't impress him at all.

"You're such an oaf. It's a wonder you don't trip over your own lightsaber."

Shock and hurt rippled from Obi-Wan, but at least Bruck's friends were back on his side. Even if Obi-Wan hated him, he had them, and he kept going.

"Oafy-Wan. We should call you Oafy-Wan."

His friends had taken up the cry, and Obi-Wan's face had crumpled, just barely, and he had hurried away.

Laughter rang, and someone clapped him over the shoulder, but Bruck just stared after the other boy, feeling terribly cold inside.

It had been one moment of weakness, and ever since, the dark Fear had stayed with him.

Obi-Wan remembered him well enough after that. When they passed in the halls, or were pitted against each other in training, Obi-Wan's mouth would tighten, and Bruck's stomach would churn. The dark voice in his stomach would tell him that Obi-Wan could see right through him. One day Obi-Wan was going to lean in seductively, and tell him how he pathetic he was. Even Obi-Wan's friends made it clear he was unwelcome.

Bruck didn't care. He made very sure they knew he wouldn't want to spend time with Oafy's friends, anyway.

Meanwhile, Bruck's friends began to leave the Temple. It wasn't surprising, since most of Bruck's circle were older, but he had never thought how it would feel when Rellia and Seryk became Padawans, and Tussen left to become a healer. And then Caal, who was six months younger than Bruck, was chosen by Master Arrus. Bruck was left alone, to watch the approach of his thirteenth birthday.

He spent his time with some of the students from the grade below. Tax and Cwyr were thrilled to have an older student sit with them, and looked up to him no matter what he did. It wasn't Bruck's idea of friendship, but it was good to impress someone so easily.

Without his friends, there was no one to distract him from the truth he'd known since 'Oafy-Wan' was taken up by the rest of the students. He was headed for Agri-Corp. Somehow, Bruck had managed to hide his Dark shadow from the rest of the Temple, but the Masters couldn't help but sense there was something not right, and they always passed over him, as they should.

They passed over Obi-Wan, too. Though Bruck never understood why, he was glad. He didn't want to be the last, and it only suited that Obi-Wan was held back with him. It was his fault that Bruck was corrupted.

Perhaps that wasn't fair, but it was easy to think that way, and with each visit from a lone Master, and with every battle where they were pitted against each other, it became easier to forget that he had wanted to be friends. Bruck came to hate fighting against Obi-Wan. As if it wasn't bad enough to be so close to the one who made him fall, the competition made his stomach churn with all the fears he'd been breeding since that fateful stumble, and it made him clumsy.

It seemed fitting, really.

Almost a year after that awful day, Bruck found himself fighting against Obi-Wan again. They'd both been led in blindfolded, but Bruck knew his opponent's style, and the sound of his breathing, and his smell. The smell of Obi-Wan when he worked up a sweat always made Bruck's stomach churn.

The battle was hard and fast from the start, but neither was giving ground. They had been at it for almost an hour, it seemed, Bruck holding through luck, Obi-Wan never making a single mistake. Nothing Bruck did pushed past Obi-Wan's defences, and his frustration only made things worse until a burn seared his neck and he howled. Tears burned his closed eyes, igniting his fury. "That was a lucky blow!"

He scrambled to push away the blindfold as claustrophobia swirled in with all his other emotions.

"Bruck. Leave your blindfold on. A Jedi needs not his eyes to see."

Bruck ignored Yoda, and threw down his blindfold, wrenching around to see the tiny pull of a smug smile on Obi-Wan's blinded face. Obi-Wan the perfect.

"You clumsy oaf!"

Yoda's voice cut in with a warning note, but Bruck only saw the smugness fade from his opponent.

"Come on, Oafy. See if you can hit me again! One last time, before they throw you out of the Temple." He delighted in the way Obi-Wan's mouth tightened. Bruck knew how it hurt to be reminded of the looming Date.

"Bruck, enough! Learn to lose as well as win, a Jedi must. Go to your room, you will."

Bruck stung with the rebuke, but then Obi-Wan's chin lifted. "You don't have to send him away, Master Yoda. I'm not afraid to fight *him* without his blindfold."

Utter disdain, made worse by the the disappointment he saw in Yoda's face. Disappointment in Obi-Wan, but not Bruck. Yoda didn't set his expectations quite so high for Bruck.

Bruck was only marking time until he was thirteen and they could throw him out. Kept around as a sparring partner for Obi-Wan Kenobi to display his skills for the Masters.

The last of Bruck's hope that some kind Master would take him on, unwitting to his churning stomach, drifted away. He had failed already.

"All right. Continue. Much to learn, you have. Use the blindfolds, you must."

Much to learn, Obi-Wan had. Bruck wasn't worth the time to teach. He snatched up his blindfold and jerked it on, swinging into action as soon as he felt Obi-Wan's defensive stance. Anger washed away his exhaustion, and Bruck let it. He threw his weight into his blows. What did it matter? Obi-Wan sailed over his head and Bruck followed, drawing on the churning. /Fight back, damn you/ But Obi-Wan retreated into cold, Jedi style, blocking, never attacking.

Bruck just swung harder. He'd never understood how Jedi style fighting was supposed to work in the Temple. If both opponents only defended, as they were supposed to, and neither went on the attack, it wouldn't make for much of a training bout. They'd just stand there in their defensive positions, waiting for the other to move. Pointless. He twisted and aimed up towards Obi-Wan's ribs and was blocked, went for the neck and was blocked, blocked, blocked again, until the exhaustion began to wear past the anger, and he stopped, doubled over, panting as he pulled the blindfold away. He was beyond humiliation.

"Good, Obi-Wan. Learning you are."

Obi-Wan clipped his lightsaber to his belt. He was sweating, but his breath came easily, as though they'd merely been warming up. Emotionally, he was as cool as ever, nodding wisely as Yoda doled out to the favoured student his wisdom on dealing with the 'enemy'.

Bruck felt the burn of tears threatening. It seemed he was not entirely beyond humiliation.

They bowed to Yoda, Bruck infinitely grateful that the duel was over and he could escape. And then Yoda mentioned Qui-Gon Jinn.

Yoda reassured Obi-Wan, praised Obi-Wan, advised Obi-Wan, all but promised Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon would chose him, before making his way out. Bruck stood, forgotten, to the side.

Bruck hated Obi-Wan. It filled him, and he found himself spitting every cruel taunt he could think of at the other boy.

Obi-Wan turned his back.

Nobody to Yoda, nobody to the visiting Masters, not even worthy of reply for another initiate, one he'd worshipped, once. Bruck hurled the training probe without conscious thought, but there was a rush of satisfaction as Obi-Wan's head jerked forward with the impact. It felt good.

He powered up his lightsaber as Obi-Wan turned to face him. "Ready for another round?"

Fury sparked in those eyes, and Bruck burned to see that there was something beneath the perfect exterior, but the fury turned thoughtful, and then to surprise. "You knew all along that Qui-Gon Jinn was coming to search for a Padawan, didn't you?"

He felt laughter bubble. Of course he did. Who but Obi-Wan didn't? "I made sure you didn't find out. If I'd had my way, you wouldn't have found out until he'd left." It was a preposterous claim; how anyone could deliberately keep a rumour like that from one person and all his friends, Bruck couldn't imagine, but he was finding Obi-Wan's buttons, now. He was going to see the perfect student crack.

Obi-Wan smiled, slowly, but it wasn't a nice smile. "Bruck, three months from now, when you turn thirteen, I hope you'll make a great farmer."

The insult was nothing on the past few hours, but it was just what he needed. And when he leapt in attack, Obi-Wan's saber was alight and swinging to meet him, its owner yelling in fury.

Bruck wasn't sure, entirely, how the healers came to believe Obi-Wan had attacked him, especially when Obi-Wan had looked as bad as Bruck did himself, but he saw no reason to correct them. Not even when he found out that Obi-Wan was being sent to the Agri-Corp.

A Light Jedi would have owned up and accepted punishment, but Bruck was Dark so he didn't care. Kenobi was no better than him, after all, and being Dark meant that Bruck didn't have to feel sorry for him. Or to feel anything much at all.

But there was a reprieve - the Council not willing to give up on their prodigy entirely - and Bruck was given one last chance to allow Obi-Wan to show off his skills.

It was a pointless trial. This was Qui-Gon Jinn, who, despite Yoda's little speech to Obi-Wan, refused to take a Padawan, and was hardly likely to be swayed by an initiate who already had his room booked on a transport to the Agri-Corp.

They were both only there for show, each no better than the other, and somehow that took the last of Bruck's anger away. It didn't matter, so there was nothing to do but throw himself into the sheer energy of the battle and enjoy it, as he used to enjoy bouts with Obi-Wan all those months ago.

Obi-Wan hadn't given up. The Force was awkward in his grasp, unsettled by his desperation, and Bruck finally felt the stirrings of pity. Didn't he realise there was no chance he would be chosen after their fight last night? Of all the nights to give into Bruck's taunts, why last night? Master Jinn was out of his grasp.

"Fool. You should never have agreed to fight me. You can't win."

That just sparked anger in Obi-Wan, bringing out the disdainful sneer Bruck had always hated. "You mean *you* can't win! Your failure today will signal to everyone that you are not just a loser, but a liar."

A loser, just like Obi-Wan had always thought. Nobody.

And then suddenly Obi-Wan was attacking him, swings and jabs that almost knocked Bruck's saber from his hand, leaving him on the defensive, shocked by the viciousness. The style left opening after opening but Bruck was too surprised to use them. A shove sent him sprawling, lightsaber clattering across the floor, and he barely escaped a painful blow as he rolled to retrieve it. He switched it on and brought it up in defence but Obi-Wan's weight fell in behind his saber as he brought it down to sear Bruck's face, pinning Bruck's own lit saber against his chest, and Bruck couldn't hold back the cry of pain.

"Enough!"

Enough. Bruck gasped, trying to channel the pain as Obi-Wan spun away to stare triumphantly over the crowd. He held his saber above his head, gloating for his friends, and Bruck found the pity returning. Obi-Wan had won no Master today.

Bruck waited until long after the crowds had left before he went to the dressing chamber to shower and change. He had the small healer's kit open beside him, but was staring dazedly at the burn above his nose. He'd been lucky. The way Obi-Wan was swinging, it would have been a close call to land the saber in his eye.

He shuffled through the kit for the bacta ointment, and looked up to see Qui-Gon's reflection in the mirror. He turned, and gave a small bow. "Master Jinn."

The inspection last a few moments longer before Qui-Gon spoke. "You did not seem to be particularly involved today."

Bruck shrugged. "It was Obi-Wan's fight."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose slightly. "Generally, a winner is not declared until a fight is over."

Another shrug. "It was put on for him, to fight for you. You're not going to take him on, are you?"

Qui-Gon considered his reply carefully before he gave it. "I will not be choosing a Padawan today." He took a few sedate steps closer, and dropped some of the formality from his tone. "It never occured to you that you might be chosen?"

"No. I'm going to be sent into the Agri-Corp." Somehow, saying it didn't bother Bruck as much as he thought it would. He might even grow to like it.

"There is time enough to speak of farming. You could yet be a promising fighter, if you learn to rein the anger that guides you."

Bruck felt himself pale. "I wasn't angry at Obi-Wan!" Had this Master finally sensed the shadow he carried? "I didn't..."

"Not with the other boy, but you were angry. Anger manifests in more ways than the furious attack the other boy made on you." He put a hand on Bruck's shoulder. "Be prepared to examine your emotions, Initiate. Darkness acknowledged can be conquered. A Jedi Knight does not give up a fight before it has begun."

Qui-Gon turned to leave, and it was ll Bruck could do not to grab his arm. "I thought... Master Mundi told us there was no way to return from the Dark Side."

"We all hold fears. As you grow older, you will conquer some, and find new ones. Darkness will not fall so long as you are willing to fight it." A long look, to be sure his words were heeded, and then Qui-Gon Jinn walked away.

Bruck blocked the blow and used his opponent's momentum to twist her saber away, striking for the opening but she covered well. She struck low and he leaped over her head, saber sizzling as it glanced off her shoulder.

Sweat was stinging in his eyes and the blindfold was cutting in behind his ear, but he ignored the distractions, letting them fade away with the nicks she'd left in his skin. The Force was singing in him; he was fighting as well as he ever had.

He'd never in his life meditated as much as he had in the weeks since Qui-Gon's advice, and the shadow was almost gone. He hadn't been lost at all. He'd just been afraid of his own fear, and of a future he didn't even understand. Bruck didn't know anyone in Agri-Corp, but he'd spoken to some of the healers, and none of them felt like failures. Neither would he, if that was his path.

Somehow, knowing that he could live without a Knighthood made Bruck all the more sure that he *should* be a Knight. And so now he was fighting for the role he truly wanted, burning with exertion, feeling the joy of saber-fighting he had forgotten. He could almost fly.

Disappointment touched him when he heard Yoda signal the end of the battle, but was quickly released. He pulled away the blindfold and looked down to see Bant, Obi-Wan's Calamarian friend, regarding him warily. He should have recognised her scent. He smiled, awkwardly. "It was a good fight."

She didn't smile back, but she relaxed slightly and gave him a nod.

Yoda shuffled forward, and gazed up solemnly. "Learning, you both are." His gaze lingered a little longer on Bruck, who dipped his head to acknowledge the point.

Yoda had been far kinder of late. Bruck wondered if Qui-Gon had said something, or if the old Master just had more attention to share, now that Obi-Wan had been firmly shoved in Qui-Gon's direction.

Three weeks had passed since the pair had been conveniently sent to the same planet, and though nothing had been heard, Bruck knew that Obi-Wan would be returning with a Padawan braid. Yoda obviously wanted them together, and Bruck didn't believe that Yoda ever failed to get what he wanted.

It was hard to resent Yoda's penchance for meddling, now that he seemed intent on meddling Bruck into Master Medith's care. Especially now that he was watching Bruck with that slightly smug tilt to his ears.

Bruck fed his tendril of excitement into the Force - mostly unsuccessfully - and forced himself to leave the hall without asking Yoda if Master Medith had commented on his performance. He was wired, far too wired to wind down, so he made his way into the training room next door.

He'd barely begun to pace through the katas when he felt a presence behind him. He pulled up and bowed. "Master Medith."

She folded her arms into her cloak, mouth curling into a smile. She was a tiny woman, little taller than Bruck, and looked almost delicate under the huge cloak, but there was a bearing in her chin that was undeniably Jedi.

"I understand you're looking for a Master."

"Yes, Master."

"Do you believe you are ready to be a Padawan?"

"Yes, Master. Probably."

Medith simply raised an eyebrow, and Bruck dropped his gaze.

"I think so. I'm not very good at controlling my fears."

"And what are you afraid of, Bruck Chun?" she asked, gently.

"That nobody will like me. That I don't matter. Mostly that I'll get so scared that my fear will take over."

"Those are scary things."

Bruck blinked, a little surprised. Fear usually led to litanies about the Dark Side, not agreement. "I'm not as scared as I was. I know what I'm scared of, and I can conquer it."

"That's a very grown up thing to learn."

"Another Master told me. I didn't work it out on my own, or anything."

Her lip curled, and there was an amused spark in her eye, but somehow Bruck didn't mind. "As long as you understand, it doesn't matter how you learn."

"I still..." He looked up, and found confidence in Medith's friendly face. "I still could use some help. I don't think I'll be very easy to train, but I'll try."

She smiled openly. "As a matter of fact, I'm always looking for a challenge. Shall we solve each other's problems, Padawan Chun?"

Bruck almost dropped his lightsaber. "I would like that very much, Master Medith."

"Then I suggest you move your essentials to my quarters. I am rarely on Coruscant for long; we may not have much time to get to know each other."

And just like that, Bruck was wanted.

The adventures continue with Bruck Tales: Lessons on Coruscant.

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