Dedication: I wrote this to honor a fallen friend of my own. Steve, this is for you. And for Karen, who was left behind.
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Obi-Wan was tired. Very tired. The Jedi Knight stood, arms folded within his robes, and stared at his reflection in the viewport as the ship he was on entered Coruscant’s atmosphere. He and Anakin had been called home and the reason had him thinking on another sad day in his life.
It had been three years since the battle with the Sith on Naboo. Three long years without Qui-Gon at his side. Three years of missing his master’s counsel, wisdom, and security. Three years of muddling his way through training a young, extremely precocious padawan.
But in that time, Obi-Wan had not really had time to dwell on his loss. He’d been too busy, immediately thrown into teaching Anakin Skywalker. They had spent some time on Coruscant, about eight months, while Anakin became acclimated to the Jedi way of life. It never became a complete transformation, much to Obi-Wan’s endless frustration. But then, Anakin came late to the life...so it had not been unexpected. Even so, the youngster and Obi-Wan, both of whom brought new meaning to the word stubborn, butted heads more often than not regarding whatever the topic of the day was.
And after their time on Coruscant, the duo were sent off on various and sundry missions, barely setting foot on the Republic’s capital in between. They had maintained this grueling schedule for the past two and a half years. Anakin had grown up, literally. After a couple of growth spurts, the now 14-year-old boy was almost as tall as Obi-Wan, and figuratively, Anakin was more mature as befitted his station as an apprentice.
They’d barely begun their latest mission when word had come from the Temple. Another death had occurred in the Jedi family. Another death that hit close to home for Obi-Wan. This time it was his good friend Bant. She and her master had been on Nazzimoor finalizing treaty details when a rebel faction had attacked the proceedings. Bant had thrown herself in front of her master just as one of the rebels fired a blaster. Her sacrifice had enabled her master to fight back and with the government forces, put down the brief but costly insurrection. Bant had been returned to the Temple, per her master’s request, for a posthumous Knighting ceremony, then burial in the Jedi fashion. Her master, Torila, had specificially requested that Obi-Wan be present.
Bant...Obi-Wan felt his eyes mist. He was still having trouble believing that she was gone. It was so unreal. At least, she died protecting her master. Which is what you should have done, his conscience flung at him. Augh! No need to rehash that. He’d done enough self-flaggellation in the first year after Qui-Gon’s death. The guilt had eaten at him until it had almost caused irreparable harm to his fledgling bond with Anakin. As it was, Obi-Wan knew he’d never allow himself to get as close to the boy, let their bond get that strong because he felt it diminished the bond he’d shared with Qui-Gon. He kept that buried deep. Very deep. And too, Obi-Wan didn’t ever want to feel again that absolute anguish he’d felt that day on Naboo when Qui-Gon’s essence was ripped from his mind so suddenly the pain had threatened to overwhelm him. He’d felt sick and suddenly, so very angry. The Dark Side had beckoned that day. It had come so close...
The comm unit buzzed jerking Obi-Wan out of his reverie. He used a tendril of the Force to channel a reply.
“Yes?”
“Master? We’re ready to land. There’s a shuttle waiting for us.”
“I’ll be there in just a moment. Have our things ready, Anakin.”
“Yes, Master.”
Obi-Wan sighed as he looked out at the flowing air traffic. His image still stared back at him, eyes hollow. He felt old. And very tired.
Obi-Wan stood with Bant’s master, Torila, a tall, greenish-skinned humanoid female. She and Bant had made a formidable team. Torila showed no emotion, her hands hidden within her cloak.
The flames flickered around Bant’s body as the Council and other friends and acquaintances looked on solemnly. Anakin stood to Obi-Wan’s left, keeping his eyes down. Obi-Wan knew the lad didn’t really want to be here and Obi-Wan had told him he didn’t have to come, but Anakin had said he would go. “For you, Master.” That had touched Obi-Wan deeply. And he was grateful for the support. This was hard.
“It’s not right somehow,” he whispered.
“No, but it’s the will of the Force,” replied Torila, her gaze unwavering as she stared at her fallen padawan. “The Force instructed her to save me; she acted.”
“Is that what you truly believe, Torila? She was so close to Knighthood, scheduled to take her trials later this year. Now this. Why? The unfairness of it is what hurts so.” Obi-Wan couldn’t admit to Torila his jealousy. Jealousy of Bant who had so selflessly acted to save her master’s life. The ultimate act of loyalty and love by a padawan. He had offered himself up once as a boy, not yet a padawan, but Qui-Gon had stopped him. Twelve years later on Naboo, he had not had the chance--stuck behind an energy wall.
“She is a knight now, Obi-Wan,” Torila was saying. “And she is One with the Force. That is what we all strive for. Some in our Order would envy her.”
“Do you?”
Torila was silent for a long time, watching the flames flicker. Obi-Wan felt tears prick his eyes. He hadn’t cried at Qui-Gon’s funeral. Tears had been saved for private.
“I don’t know,” Torila answered finally. “I do know that I would trade places with her in a heartbeat. I miss her so. And it will be a while before I can take another padawan, I know that.”
Obi-Wan just nodded. Torila was hurting bad. He understood all too well--her grief, her pain, her guilt. Having someone who is your whole world suddenly taken away. Gone. There one moment, not there the next. The will of the Force? Capricious fate? Sick joke? He’d debated this with himself over and over and over after Qui-Gon’s death. He still debated it in times of melancholy. He was no closer to an answer. All he could do was just remember his master. And that was all he could do for Bant.
Later, after the flames had died down and just a few embers glowed, Obi-Wan went up to the bier and stared at the ashes. He had told Anakin to go on, squeezing the boy’s shoulder in thanks. Torila had left with the Council. And so, he was alone in the big hall. Obi-Wan moved his hand back and forth over the ashes as if seeking out her Life Force. Nothing.
“Oh, Bant, this wasn’t supposed to happen this way. I was supposed to be recalled for something good, like congratulating you on obtaining your Knighthood or to see you choose a padawan. Not this. Remember how we talked at the academy about what we would do as Knights?
“Do you truly know how much you meant to me, Bant? How much you did for me when we were students together? You were my best friend. It’s so hard for me to imagine not seeing you ever again. How can I say goodbye? That’s all I ever seem to do, you know. Say goodbye to those I love. First Qui-Gon, now you. You two were my family.”
Obi-Wan let the tears roll down his face. He didn’t feel the all-consuming grief that had accompanied Qui-Gon’s death. This was more regret and pain over a life unnecessarily cut short--far too short. The regret was for many things--all the “should have dones” like not keeping in touch as he should have over the years. Yes, they had all been busy, but communiques were not that hard to send, and Bant always managed to contact him on his Naming Day or for just random, whimsical reasons. It was part of why he loved her.
Obi-Wan swiped at his eyes and drew a deep breath. His own life wouldn’t wait. He had learned how to move on after Qui-Gon and he must do the same here. He had a padawan to attend to and a mission to get back to. Strange that life should just move on like this. So often the dead forgotten. But he had not allowed that with Qui-Gon, nor would he with his dear friend.
“Yes, Bant,” he whispered. “I will remember you always.”
Obi-Wan turned to go, but stopped suddenly as he felt a warmth flow through him. A presence filled him and he felt his weariness lift. He smile then, his eyes glistening. “Hey, Bant? Do me a favor? Keep my Master out of trouble for me, will you?”
As Obi-Wan left the hall, he could swear he heard laughter, low and husky mingled with high and musical.