Author's Webpage: http://www.jbx.com/~gila/sw.html
Summary: short non-slash tale of how Obi-Wan arrived at 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 practising 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 recognise 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.