Sun Kissed

Chapter 9

The Council had been in session for hours.



It had started as a scheduled meeting with the beginning dedicated to discussing considerations of Knights to promote to full Masterhood. There were a few promising talents they had been watching for quite some time, and now it felt right, the chosen Knights deserved their new commissions. There was also the matter of finding a replacement for Coleman Trebor’s seat on the Jedi High Council. It had been debated before and, the more they talked, it seemed likely that Kit Fisto would be offered membership to the Council.



Then the report had come in.



Urgent meeting required with the High Council, the messenger said.



One of the Temple’s Healer’s had been brought into the Council chambers, holding a data pad in her hands. Ran the work three times, she said, before displaying it before the Council.



A midi-chlorian count of over 23,000.



Human Male. Former Slave.



Twenty-one years of age.



That’s when the debates started, and continued well into the setting sun.



“There’s no question, the boy is too old; and I use that term loosely. He is more than too old, beyond it.”



“We agree with you Mace, but I still think we should meet with him.”



Mace Windu stared hard at Adi Gallia from across the room. “There is no point. Even if the midi-chlorian readings are correct, he’s too old to ever be a Jedi. He would be far too dangerous. The boy has been a slave all of his life, and with the missions we do he would never be able to control his emotions. They would rule him. Why are we having this discussion?”



Mace folded his arms and looked around the Council Chamber. When the Bandomeer Healer’s report had been brought to their attention earlier, he had hardly believed it. Others couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that there was a boy out there with a potentially higher midi-chlorian count than that of Master Yoda. The levels they were seeing were unprecedented. The Council had talked, they had debated, and Mace would not back down from his position.



If the boy was force sensitive then let the AgriCorps deal with him. He was far too old, and despite the mystery that surrounded his midi-chlorian count – he was of no use to the Jedi Order. They would sanction his entrance into the AgriCorps, and there he would learn to control his abilities and would be put to work helping with food production and crop growth. There was nothing there that would aggravate his emotions, and he wouldn’t be a danger. Mace felt that he constantly had to remind his fellow colleagues just how bad this could go for them.



“We’re not talking about training him, Mace.” Adi’s tone was deceptively calm, but he could feel her underlying frustration with him held tightly beneath the surface. “We want the Healers here to take a look at him, make sure there are no mistakes in the blood work.”



“And then what? Test him in front of the Council? For what purpose?”



Mace took his eyes off of Adi and glanced towards Yoda. He had been quiet throughout the latter half of the meeting, head bowed, claws scratching idly at his walking stick, lost in deep thought.



“We have to do something with the boy Mace. He’s not an AgriCorps worker, he’s not a Jedi, and he’s no longer a child as you’ve mentioned,” said Eeth Koth. “And if his midi-chlorian levels are correct...”



“It could be dangerous. If anyone were to get it in their heads to train this boy and turn him to the Dark Side of the Force, with a count higher than Master Yoda’s, I’m not sure any of us would be ready for that kind of raw power. This boy would have none of the control that we have been trained with all of our lives, he’d be completely unstable.”



“Is it best he remain with the AgriCorps?” asked Ki-Adi Mundi.



Mace nodded. “For now I think it best. The workers are force sensitives, they should be able to teach him some control.”



“They aren’t trained for that. And if this boy is that in tune with the Force? It will take more than a former potential apprentice with only a basic working knowledge of -”



“Who found the boy?” asked Shaak Ti, she glanced apologetically at Eeth.



“Found by Obi-Wan Kenobi, the boy was.”



The Council members turned towards Yoda.



“Kenobi… The name’s familiar,” said Mace leaning forward.



Yoda’s ears dropped minisculely, as he bowed his head and dropped into silence once more.



“I remember him.”



Mace glanced over at Adi.



“He was a bright boy, if a bit lonely.” There was something in her eyes, something knowing as she looked at Yoda. Mace had the feeling that he was missing something.



“Go to Bandomeer myself, I will.” Yoda nodded determinedly.



“Master Yoda –“



He waved a tiny clawed hand. “Decided, I have. Go, I must. See this boy, I will.”



Mace sighed and sat back in his chair. Yoda held up a hand to stop Adi Gallia from what she had been about to say. Once Yoda made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to change it. If he said he would go to Bandomeer alone, then he would. He would meet with the boy, and conference with the Council about what should be done. They trusted his wisdom, and the Force was circling calmly around them.



“It’s for the best?” asked Mace.



“Is so, I believe.”



The Council considered Yoda’s pronouncement. If it was the safest way, then they would all agree.



“There’s only one more matter left then,” said Mace. “Are we all agreed that what has been discussed here will not leave the Council Chambers? If knowledge of this boy got out and into the hands of the wrong people, it could be a disaster for us all. If a Dark Jedi or worse were to hear about this...the consequences could be dire. Healers Leueka and Eerin are the only ones aside from us who know of this boy’s midi-chlorian count, can we keep it that way?”



Agreement was reached from all sides of the Council. The boy’s connection to the Force had to remain quiet. The connection he had to the Force and his status as a former slave made him vulnerable. With the resurfacing of the Sith, this knowledge had to stay with as little people as possible.



The Council session was pronounced concluded after all had agreed to the call for secrecy and Yoda’s self-appointed task. The two coincided well, if the boy had been brought to the Temple, many Jedi and younglings would sense him, especially if he had no handle on his abilities. By Yoda going alone they were limiting contact with other Jedi, and Yoda’s departure could be readily explained if need be.



As the Council members filed out, Mace remained seated waiting for Yoda. The wizened, old creature didn’t move from his contemplative position, so Mace didn’t move either. He just sat, and waited for Yoda to speak. He always had the patience for his old Master, when he was deep in thought he stayed that way until a solution presented itself through the Force.



“Better will it be, to go to them,” said Yoda finally.



“Master?”



“Uncomfortable, for young Obi-Wan to once again walk these halls. Pain and failure he feels, sure of it, even now am I. Do that to him, I will not.”



“Who was this boy?”



“Remember you do not?”



“It’s familiar, how long ago was he here?”



Yoda sighed. “Taken by the AgriCorps he was. Twenty-four years it has been.”



That was why Mace couldn’t remember him. He had seen so many younglings in the Temple, ones that stayed, ones that left. He couldn’t remember them all, especially those who weren’t chosen by a Master for apprenticeship.



Yoda continued. “Qui-Gon’s apprentice, Obi-Wan should have been. Much potential in him, saw it I did. Swayed, Qui-Gon was not.”



Mace’s brow furrowed. He remembered this.



“Kenobi. That was the boy’s name? The one you took a liking to?”



“Trained him, I should have.”



“He was too passionate. Unpredictable.”



“Control, he needed. Learn, he would have. Great talent, the boy was. A great Jedi, would he have become.”



“You don’t know that.”



“Felt it I did. Train him, you I should have asked.”



“Master –“ Mace began, but Yoda was already shaking his head and waving his hand.



“Depa Billaba, your last apprentice I know. As mine, you were.” Yoda sighed, “So many younglings, too few Masters.”



Yoda finally vacated his Council chair. Curling to the edge and dropping himself to the floor, his walking stick hit the ground as he moved towards the door. Mace stood and walked with him. Out of the chambers they went, down the spiral’s elevator, and across the floor. It wasn’t until they were walking down through the wide corridors that Mace spoke again.



“Do you really think Qui-Gon and Kenobi would have been a good match?”



“A light, Obi-Wan had. Good for each other, they would have been.”



“Xanatos’ betrayal hit Qui-Gon hard. Whether or not training Kenobi would have eased that pain remains a moot point now.”



“Something else to focus on, he would have had.”



“The solo missions he took with Master Dooku helped him with the loss. It was as well anyway,” said Mace thoughtfully, “that they were partnered together when the Sith re-emerged on Naboo. A Padawan Learner wouldn’t have been ready for that.”



“Perhaps.”



“Anyway. Despite Qui-Gon’s leanings, he has taken on another Padawan.”



Yoda nodded. “Orphaned he was by his previous Master’s death. Will of the Force, this time it was. Listened, Qui-Gon finally has.”



“Zett Jukassa should be good for Qui-Gon. Dooku’s taken a liking to the boy as well.”



The two continued their journey to the hangar bay. The sooner Yoda made his way to Bandomeer, the sooner the Council could get a hold on what was going on. It was essential that they form a plan concerning the boy’s future and even though the Force had been steadily clearing, there was still darkness that could touch him.



“Return I shall, when complete my task is.”



Mace nodded. “Yes, Master. This is where I leave you.”



“Appointment you now have?” asked Yoda, as he watched across the bay as his shuttle pod was readied.



“Supreme Chancellor Organa has called for a brief meeting. Now that the Trade Federation has surrendered, and peace is steadily returning, he feels it’s an appropriate time to hold Chancellor Palpatine’s funeral.”



“Appropriate, it is.”



“If we receive word from Master Vos about General Grievous, we’ll contact you immediately. May the Force be with you, Master Yoda.”



“May it be with you, as well, my once-Padawan.”



>>>



“It’s all wet.”



Obi-Wan stopped slicing the muja fruit in front of him and turned towards Anakin. He was staring out the kitchen window looking at the wet grass and puddles left by the week’s steady rain. The sky was still a dull grey in the morning, the pressure system slowly moving past.



“It will be until the sun decides to come out and dry everything. It’s going to be chillier out as well. For a few days at least, it’s what the forecast said.”



“I don’t like the cold.” Anakin folded his hands into his sleeves and glared at the grey sky.



Obi-Wan smiled. “In time, you’ll be used to it.”



Anakin looked over at him dubiously. “I’ll never be used to this much water.”



The downpour a few days ago had astounded him in so many ways, and now to see the aftermath of such a storm – of water instead of sand; a grey, wet chill in the place of a dusty, hot sun. He’d never be used to this.



Glancing over, he watched Obi-Wan add another fruit to an already fruit-ladden tray. His mouth watered as he kept his eye on the carefully cut black slices. They were incredibly juicy, and undoubtedly his favourite.



Obi-Wan stacked a few cuts of bread on the side and placed the completed plate behind him on the counter island.



“Go ahead, Anakin.”



Leaving his place by the window, Anakin pulled out one of the stools and sat down while reaching for one of the dark pieces.



“What are these?” he asked biting into it.



“It’s called Barabel fruit,” Obi-Wan answered. He rinsed the knife he used to cut the fruit and bread in the sink before putting it back into the drawer. Grabbing two cups from the cupboard, he moved to the oven’s hot plates and filled the cups with warm water from the kettle. “I believe I have some Barabel tea if you’d care to try it.”



“Yes, thank you.”



Anakin watched Obi-Wan’s back as he worked, and picked up another piece of fruit. He’d been in Obi-Wan’s ownership for nearly a week, and those days had felt like a reprieve. He wasn’t doing anything that he had done before. He wasn’t put to work - no labour, no sex; he wasn’t beaten or starved.



Nothing bad had happened to Anakin since he’d met Obi-Wan. Anakin had been freed from his bonds, given food, medical care by a Twi’lek Healer, he’d been taught about the Force and how to shield, given a soft, warm place to sleep, an honest to stars bath – he hadn’t asked for any of it. It had been given to him, without anything being asked in return.



That usually made him suspicious. Nothing in his life had ever come without a price, unless it came from his mother. She was the only one who ever gave to him without expecting anything in return. After she was gone, no one had cared.



He still didn’t know exactly what was going to happen to him, but he hadn’t had any incredibly bad feelings like he had on Tatooine since he’d left his homeworld. Though there was still the matter of what was going to happen to him.



“What happens to me now?”



“What?” Obi-Wan finished his attention at the stove and sat down on one of the stools, placing their tea in front of them.



Anakin ran a finger along the rim of his cup.



“I mean...you keep telling me that I’m a freeman but...what now? I’ve been a slave all my life, what happens to me now since I’m not here for labour or sex?”



“You’re force sensitive,” said Obi-Wan. “Not only that, but the Force is unusually strong in you. You could be a very big help to us here, and if you’d like I could petition the AgriCorps for your entry. If you didn’t want to join them, then maybe odd jobs? Get you some form of income of your own, anyhow.”



“Like, actual paid work? A real job?”



“When you’re ready. There’s no rush right now, I know you’re still adjusting.”



Anakin’s mind was again reeling. Would Obi-Wan ever cease to confuse him? Everything he heard seemed to come out of the last place Anakin expected. He was completely out of his depths, without anchor.



“Why? Why did you buy me in the first place?”



Obi-Wan looked up at him startled, as if he didn’t think to be asked that question. Why did he buy him? Why did he take him from his homeworld? A thought from before came back unbidden, had Anakin left any family behind? His mouth opened and closed a few times, before he answered.



“I-I don’t know. I just...our meeting was the will of the Force Anakin. It was a complete accident that I was there that day.”



“What happened?” asked Anakin. He was curious now, about how he came to Obi-Wan, how this man had ended up at a slave auction when he seemed to have no intentions to own a human being.



Obi-Wan sighed. “I was on Tatooine picking up harvest seeds. The transport agent who was supposed to bring them to Bandomeer contacted us saying he had been shot down. I was the one they sent to find him, and by the time I did, he was in one of the brothels.”



And how happy he looked too. Obi-Wan could remember his annoyance with the man, and he doubted very much that any ship had been shot down at all. The Captain had come across one of the first planets in his long journey that promised some entertainment and instead of meeting his bargain with the AgriCorps, he had sat back on Tatooine. The man’s thoughts had been clear as day.



Obi-Wan shook his head and continued. “After I got everything settled there, the crowds were incredibly pushy in that part of town. I ended up in the auction quarters, watched after a few slaves went by. That’s when I saw you. Or rather I heard you first.” He picked up a piece of bread off the plate and started shredding it with his fingers. “You were force sensitive. It was obvious; I could feel you. There was something in you Anakin, and it was bright.”



He had felt it. As clear as anything, Anakin had radiated with the Force. But even still, Obi-Wan wasn’t about to tell him everything about that day. That despite everything, how beautiful Anakin had been. Still was. It was...embarrassing to say the least. That he should be affected so much by this boy. It was disconcerting.



Anakin picked up another piece of fruit. “There’s nothing bright about me.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “You’re wrong,” he argued. “Your past doesn’t dull it.”



Anakin bit his lip; he could feel a flush heating his neck. “Is that the mind-reading things again?”



“No. I won’t pry like that. But your emotions are clear.”



It felt like a stone had lodged in his stomach, to feel Anakin’s self-disgust. None of what happened to him had been his fault, he had been a victim of circumstance on a planet of uncivilized creatures. The universe was an unfair place. If there was any fairness about it, Anakin would have been discovered by the Jedi as an infant and taken in, away from the Hutt controlled planet of his birth.



“It wasn’t your fault.”



Anakin shrugged. “I was born a slave.”



Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed. Maybe now was the time...



“Did you...I mean, did you have family on Tatooine?”



At first, he didn’t think Anakin was going to answer. His eyes stared at the wall behind Obi-Wan’s head, and the loss and hurt was obvious. Obi-Wan was drowning in it. What had he done? He may have gotten the boy out of slavery, but to bring him offworld to a planet on the opposite side of the galaxy without saying good-bye. Not that he’d had much time, but...Force how could he fix this?



“Anakin...”



“My mother,” he said, eyes shifting down to his tea. “I don’t...I don’t know where she is though.”



“Auction?” asked Obi-Wan quietly.



“They separated us. I went to the brothel and I don’t know where she went. I don’t even know if she’s on Tatooine anymore. It’s been...almost seven, eight years now. Maybe nine. You kind of lose track of time.”



Obi-Wan opened his mouth, and then shut it again as his mind started to turn.



He would have been a child, he thought. But then…Force…a cold chill lodged itself inside Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest.



How young had Anakin been when sold to the brothel? Ripped from his mother, and sold into the sex trade. He couldn’t be more than twenty now, give or take a few years…stars end, who could do that to a child?



His expression remained neutral despite the horror gnawing in his mind. He had never regretted buying Anakin out of that life, but it was only now that he realized that it didn’t matter what he had gotten himself into, all that mattered was that Anakin was never going back.



“Do you have family?” Anakin blinked up at him, abandoning his tea in favour of Obi-Wan. His blue eyes were both hesitantly curious and filled with an age-old sadness.



“I –“



Obi-Wan couldn’t help the shock that played within him, and he didn’t doubt he looked startled as well. It wasn’t a question he had ever thought to be asked. He barely thought about it himself.



“Somewhere. I suppose.”



Anakin frowned. “What do you mean?”



“I was given up by my parents,” Obi-Wan sighed. “When they found out I was force sensitive, I was handed over to the Jedi to raise.”



“Why would they do that?”



“It’s the way it is, Anakin. The Jedi believe in non-attachment. If they aren’t attached then they can do what’s best for the greatest amount of people for the higher good, without worrying or favouring only a select few. Family is an attachment, a distraction.”



“But that’s wrong.”



“That’s the Order.”



“But you’re not a Jedi, why didn’t they give you back to them then?”



“For what purpose?” That I failed. So they could know they gave up their son for nothing.



“Don’t…don’t you miss them?”



“I don’t know them.”



Obi-Wan had few memories of his life before the Temple. He could remember a planet of grassy plains, a younger brother – but nothing more. He couldn’t remember his mother. He couldn’t remember his father. He didn’t know. The option to meet them had come up after he had been reassigned to the AgriCorps and had come of age, but he had no interest then. And he had no interest now. It was just yet another reminder of what sort of life he could have had. But he didn’t know them, and they didn’t know him. He doubted he would have been very welcome after an eighteen year absence, despite any familial relation.



Anakin opened his mouth again to speak, but was interrupted by a steady beep from the common room.



Standing and excusing himself, Obi-Wan made his way out of the kitchen to answer the comm.



<<<



Anakin watched Obi-Wan walk towards the beep before lowering his head to once more stare into his tea. It had been so hard without his mother for the longest time. Even now there were times when he wished that she was with him, that she could hold him one more time and tell him how much she loved him. She had been everything to him. He couldn’t imagine never having known her love for him.



But Obi-Wan…Obi-Wan didn’t know his mother. Had never known her. She gave him to the Jedi, as did every parent of every Jedi who ever lived. They were given away to become the greatest defenders of the galaxy.



The Jedi were amazing, but the way they came to be just seemed…cold.



His mind was swirling when Obi-Wan came back into the kitchen and stopped on the threshold.



“That was Mi’aka, the Healer you saw when we arrived. She’s done all the research and gone through the datapads. They’re ready to remove your slave implant.”