JAOA - Prelude

by Black Rose

Pairings: Q/O, An/Am

Rating: PG

Archive: M_A, SWAL, WWOMB and anywhere else just ask me.

Category: AU

Spoilers: NONE! Hah! This is so far into AU that it should be safe.

Summary: A drastic AU set after the Clone Wars.

Series: First in what will be an ongoing series.

Feedback: Makes my world go 'round. Please!

Warning: I am taking so many liberties with cannon that it's scary. I blame it all on my deluded dreams and the rabid plot bunnies.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is god. I just slip in and play with the toys when he's not looking.

Note: Anybody in the VC fandom might have heard of something titled DOA which I have a hand in and which does stand for something (besides the traditional "Dead On Arrival"). JAOA is named for the same reason and stands for something very similar... but I like being a tease so I'm not going to tell you what. Up to you to guess. ;)

July, 1999

JAOA - Prelude

by Black Rose

The sun was setting against the jagged horizon of Coruscant, the fading light painting the gleaming sides of the towering buildings and passing shuttles in lurid shades of red. Below, more transports gleamed in the long shadows like rivers of flickering light as they wove in and out of the traffic patterns. The sound of them was muted, a low hum that ebbed and flowed, only occasionally catching upon the acoustics of the high balcony.

The man who stood there sighed, his breath coming thin and chill in the gathering dusk. The sunset was a familiar sight, one that bore the welcome tinge of something known since childhood. For years he had seen it without seeing it - known it in passing without ever really appreciating it. It had marked the passage of time and many days he had resented it; there had never been enough time.

Now it was just a welcome sight, something familiar and comforting in its regularity. Something that had been long before he was, and would continue long after he was gone.

But the sunset also still marked the passage of time and as he watched the shadows percipitably deepen he knew he had taken as much of the time as he dared. There were still things to do. There always were.

He drew one last breath, letting it out reluctantly. Reaching up to automatically check the thong that secured his hair, he smoothed back the stray strands and turned towards the door, his cloak whispering softly about the ankles of his boots.

______________

The large battle arena could easily have seated several thousand around it's perimeter - instead, barely a handful of hundred gathered there, spotted in clusters and individuals through the ranks of the seats. Gray tuniced initiates crowded the lowest stands, where even the youngest and smallest might peer down into the arena itself, their youthful voices a softened scream of enthusiasm for the combatants below. Above, the dusty tunics and warm brown cloaks of Knights and Masters mingled as those in residence at the Temple sat to watch the trials or passed amongst themselves, talking quietly.

So few. Even accounting for the many away from the Temple, there were so few who remained. The man paused at the door to the arena stands, scrubbing a tired hand over his forehead. The hazy memory of youth supplied an image of filled stands, of the roar of the crowd above the arena. Of dormitories and a Temple that bustled with the quiet hum of life rather than the muted silence of emptiness.

A soft ripple in the Force behind him made him move aside automatically, clearing the doorway. A moment later the distinctive signature of the ripple made itself known, almost but not quite enough to warn him before a hand reached out to grasp his arm above the elbow, pressing warmly in greeting as a familiar voice exclaimed "Master".

Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled, an expression echoed across the features of his former Padawan. The massive double suns of Insara had bleached Anakin's short cropped hair nearly white, his blue eyes and white teeth flashing in a face tanned brown and flushed with health. Obi-Wan suppressed a grin, knowing full well that the young Knight had eagerly accepted the assignment to a world even hotter and less hospitable than his home world of Tatooine - Anakin liked nothing less than the bitterly cold climes to be found on some of the worlds of the Republic and would go to extremes to avoid them. The suns of Insara seemed to have done him well; his step had regained a spring that had long been missing.

Obi-Wan clasped Anakin's wrist in greeting, not troubling to hide his very genuine pleasure. "I didn't know you had returned, Anakin." Gesturing for the younger man to follow him, he made his way down the shallow steps to a good vantage point in the stands.

"Only just," Anakin replied, taking the seat beside him. "The Council said my report could wait till the morrow. And since everyone was here I came looking for you... Master."

A sideways glance confirmed the small teasing smile on his former Padawan's face and with a muffled laugh Obi-Wan completed the formula that Anakin had begun. "It's not 'Master' now, Anakin."

The smile flashed fully. "Yes, Master," Anakin replied, then laughed softly. "It will always be 'Master', Obi-Wan. I've heard you call Master Qui-Gon that, when you forget."

Some of what he felt must have shown in his expression for Anakin's smile fell, replaced by somber concern. "How is he?" the younger man asked, his voice dropping as though the topic alone must be uttered in hushed whispers.

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, turning his gaze to the circling combatants down on the floor of the arena. "The same. It changes little."

Anakin let out his breath in a small puff. "The same but no worse. It's good news, I suppose."

Obi-Wan nodded distantly. Glancing at Anakin's expression, he swiftly changed the subject. "And Amidala? How are she and the twins?"

The grin reappeared with blinding speed, the shining expression of a father for whom the newness had yet to wear thin. "Why yes, Master, I did pass by Naboo on the way to Coruscant," he said, laughing. "How did you know?"

"Because Amidala hasn't contacted the Council demanding to know where her husband is," Obi-Wan returned dryly. "She's well, I trust?"

"Very." Anakin's smile stripped the years from him until he looked like nothing so much as the smitten youth who had first set out to 'court' the young Queen of Naboo - the fact that the eventual outcome had never been under question had not taken the enjoyment of it from either party. "And Luke and Leia... they'll be two next month, did you know...?" Obi-Wan gravely assured the younger man that he did know, as he had been present at their birth. Anakin beamed, describing the health and habits of the twins with a doting absorption only found in the parents of young children. Obi-Wan shook his head slightly but smiled none the less; Anakin's devotion to the family he saw only sporadically was heartening to watch.

"Will they be ready for the Temple soon, do you think?" he asked when Anakin paused for breath.

Anakin sobered slightly. "Yes. They could be now... but Amidala asks for a little longer. They're so young..."

"Older, already, then some," Obi-Wan pointed out gravely. He sighed, reaching out to touch Anakin's shoulder. "I know she doesn't want to be parted from them..."

Anakin waved his concern away, shaking his head. "It's not that, Master. She knows they'll need to be trained. We both do. But they aren't like the children taken from some small family with no name."

"No," Obi-Wan agreed. "They are the children of Skywalker. The Force runs in them almost as strongly as it does in you. They need training, Anakin." He sighed, looking out over the sparsely populated stands. "And we are so few now."

Anakin nodded slowly, blue eyes darkening. "I know, Obi-Wan. I do know. They will come here. Give it just a few months more - I see Amidala when I can, but with all else that's been lost... it's breaking her heart to let them go."

Obi-Wan sighed, nodding to show that he understood. "Don't put it off much longer," he cautioned. "You, of all people, know - you came to it late, and your training was doubly hard because of it."

Below, a roar from the initiates signaled a winner of the current bout. Anakin turned towards it, eyes scanning over the clusters of children. He laughed a little, weakly. "Force, they're all so young."

Obi-Wan let his own gaze rest on them. "So few and so many... Even if every available Master and Knight took a Padawan we still could not train them all, but there are so few all the same. Some of these would never have been accepted before, but now the AgriCorps and Healers cry out for even the half trained. We will be generations rebuilding."

"Better than the alternative," Anakin replied, and the older man could only agree. Two new combatants had stepped out into the arena; a lanky dark haired boy and a tanned girl with a startling shock of flame colored hair. The hum of their training sabers filled the air as they took their places.

Anakin watched the first couple of passes, face unreadable. Obi-Wan sat silently, knowing that whatever was on the younger man's mind would come forth eventually. Below, the boy, for all his greater height, was struggling against the quick press of the girl.

"The Council says I'm ready to take a Padawan," Anakin said at last. He shrugged a little, raking a hand through the short brush of his hair. "I don't... Did you feel this unprepared when you took me on?"

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. "I had Qui-Gon beside me. It made it a little easier."

The boy below stumbled across one of the jumble of blocks that scattered the arena floor. Obi-Wan winced. "We can't afford to overlook any child with even a hint of force sensitivity. Still... most of them will never make Knights."

The initiates yelled their approval as the girl closed in for the final blow to end the duel. At the last moment the boy moved - scooping up a handful of the light sand that covered the arena floor, he flung it in the girl's face, rolling aside as she coughed, blinded. Obi-Wan frowned at the unorthodox maneuver but Anakin nodded slightly to himself. "What they might lack in the Force they make up in other ways."

"Clever tricks don't make a Jedi."

"No?" Anakin turned to look at his former Master, pale brows drawn down. "The worlds outside Coruscant are changing, Master. More then half of those I talk to think that's all the Jedi are - tricks. A military religious order that trains a few antiquated combat moves. In the outer rim rumor has it that the Jedi have all but ceased to exist."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting the information filter through his mind. Sighing, he allowed himself the luxury of reaching up to tug the thong from his hair and let the jaw-length strands fall forward. The amber color of it was increasingly touched with strands of iron gray, something he noted as he idylly fingered a lock of it. Sighing again, he pushed it back behind his ear. "You've told the Council." Statement, not question.

"Of course. Everyone else who returns has reported the same, I'm sure." The boy below failed to deflect a Force thrown piece of block, twisting away too late as it drove into his shoulder and spun him about. The girl was on him in an instant, one blow knocking the boy's lightsaber away, the next scoring the killing stroke against the chest of his padded sparring suit. The initiates cheered her as she saluted them, saber raised triumphantly.

The corner of Obi-Wan's mouth turned down. "He'll go to AgriCorps," he predicted softly. "He doesn't have enough sensitivity for the Healers."

The boy picked himself and his lightsaber up, dusting himself off. As he passed the girl his hand flashed out; grabbing the back of her suit he twisted and flipped her neatly into the sand of the arena. There was a hush for a moment, then another roar from the students, half protest, half admiration. The boy, grinning cockily, flashed them a victorious sign and stalked from the arena.

Anakin laughed softly. "He has spirit," he admired.

Obi-Wan snorted quietly. "He has arrogance. You had spirit," he corrected. He brandished the gray streaked lock of hair at his former Padawan. "Where do you think I acquired this?"

Laughing again, Anakin caught himself in mid yawn and shrugged apologetically. "I know I should watch them if I'm to pick one to take with me when I go," he admitted, gesturing to the next pair to take the arena, "but I only just got in. I'm tired."

Obi-Wan waved a dismissive hand. "These games will go on for the next few days. You'll have time. Go and sleep, Anakin."

The younger man nodded. "It's late..." he trailed off, but at Obi-Wan's slight nod continued. "Too late. Give him my regard, will you?"

"Of course." Obi-Wan stood. "I should go as well. He'll be asleep, but I don't like to leave him alone. He needs me there if he wakes."

Anakin's hand touched his shoulder briefly, accompanied by a wave of warm sympathy. "Tell him I'll see him tomorrow. Good night, Master."

Obi-Wan smiled slightly, reaching out to softly brush the cropped patch of hair where years before a sandy colored Padawan's braid had hung. "I will. Rest well, my Anakin."

End.

[...to next stage]