Chapter Text
“The future influences the present just as much as the past.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Obi-Wan’s first memory was not his own. Rather, it was a vision steeped in darkness and flashes of red and choking heat and you were my brother and the harsh crash of lightsabers striking one another. He woke up sobbing in the arms of the crèchemaster, Master Kitaddik, who was hushing him and gently stroking the top of his head with her furry hands. Obi-Wan hid his face in the soft folds of her tunic and, still crying, fell back asleep.
The first time Obi-Wan collapsed due to a vision was not long after that. He and some other Initiates had been playing a lively game of push-pull when all of a sudden Obi-Wan was on the floor. Master Untaro Jakorr quickly stepped in and stopped the game, rushing to the young boy’s side. He did a quick visual scan -- nothing seemed to be amiss -- then reached out with the Force. Master Untaro recoiled. Obi-Wan’s Force presence was scalding, boiling under the surface and breaking through in patches. It was as if there was a storm smothering the soft light of the child.
“Master Kitaddik!” Untaro shouted, gesturing the Wookiee over from where she had been corralling a group of Initiates into cleaning up the meditation area.
Kitaddik looked up, saw Obi-Wan on the ground, then rushed over.
“Obi-Wan,” Kitaddik called in Shyriiwook, kneeling next to the boy on the ground. Untaro mirrored her. “Obi-Wan, can you hear me? ”
No response from the Human boy other than a soft whimper as his face scrunched up.
“We should take him to the healers,” Untaro murmured. Kitaddik scooped up the child in her massive arms. Between the still too-large tunics and the abundance of soft brown fur, Obi-Wan seemed to be almost swallowed up. She moved quickly towards the door and within seconds, was gone.
Meanwhile, the room had gone silent. Untaro looked around at the scared Initiates. Obi-Wan’s fear lingered in the Force, seeping throughout the room and beginning to affect his crèchemates. Untaro dispersed the dark cloud and released it into the Force, then turned back to the group. “It’s okay, young ones, let’s continue our play.”
Later, after the younglings had eaten dinner and settled down for sleep, Kitaddik entered the sleeping chambers leading a yawning Obi-Wan by the hand. He toddled over to his bed and climbed under the covers. Kitaddik knelt by his side and stroked his cheek, his face still pale from the afternoon’s events. Obi-Wan let out another massive yawn, then curled up and went to sleep. Kitaddik smiled softly down at him, then made her way over to where Untaro was sitting at his post in the rocking chair.
“How is he?” Untaro asked quietly, setting down the book he had been reading in the soft light and looking up at the Wookiee towering over him.
Kitaddik sighed and sat down in the rocking chair next to him. “Better. The healers said he should be okay after a good night’s rest.”
“A vision,” Untaro said contemplatively, then leaned back and shook his head sadly. “I don’t know, I just - I worry.”
“As do I. I think he’s been having them in his sleep. You know as well as I do he’s always slept fitfully, even as an infant.”
“Force, if the nightmares are actually visions then that would make this the fourth one this week!”
“That’s my count as well. Perhaps this is just a phase. He could grow out of it in a few months,” Kitaddik said, not looking as if she believed the words coming out of her own mouth. It wasn’t that rare for a youngling to have visions on occasion, but the frequency and intensity to which they seemed to be affecting Obi-Wan was quite unusual and most likely signified something greater.
Untaro knew what they had to do. “If it continues on like this, we might have to talk to Master Yoda.”
Both hoped it would not have to come to that.
But a week later, it had. Obi-Wan had collapsed five more times since then, and with more frequency - two of those visions had come in the past twenty-four hours. One had simply seen him with a blank expression on his face, while the other left him screaming so loudly that it had caused more than one Knight or Master to peek their heads into the small room they’d moved him to. It was there, sitting on the cold floor with her large arms cradling Obi-Wan in a hold carefully designed to keep him from hurting himself as he thrashed about, that Kitaddik decided it was time to contact the Grandmaster.
“Having visions, this youngling is, hrmm?” A soft click of wood hitting stone accompanied Master Yoda’s words as he approached the door from the hallway.
“Yes, Master Yoda,” came Untaro’s anxious voice. Kitaddik imagined he was wringing his hands nervously, as he was wont to do. He had been slightly reluctant to get the older Master when Kitaddik had asked him to do so ten minutes before - a reluctance she contributed to Untaro’s hopes that the only times he’d have to talk to the Grandmaster was when he announced each of his younglings had passed the Initiate Trials. The Pantoran man was quite good in most social situations but the Council scared him, much to Kitaddik’s perpetual amusement.
A knock on the door. “Come in,” she said softly. Obi-Wan had only just settled down and she didn’t want to disturb him unnecessarily.
Master Yoda entered the room slowly. Upon seeing Kitaddik huddled in the corner with Obi-Wan cradled in her arms, he rushed over and placed a gnarled hand on the Human boy’s forehead. Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed slightly but he did not wake.
“Yes, many visions he has been having,” Yoda told the two masters. “A great burden it is placing on his mind. How old is he?”
“He just turned three standard, Master,” Kitaddik murmured, eyes still fixed on her young charge.
Master Yoda’s ears drooped. “Very young he is to be experiencing these things. Worry I do for him. Placed him into a deep slumber I have. Monitoring his mind I will be. Be disturbed by the Force he will not, while I am with him. Hope to give him a few hours rest, I do.”
This reassured Kitaddik greatly, but something still preyed on her mind. “But what can we do when you’re not here?”
Master Yoda’s gaze grew far and unseeing. “Only support him, we can. Provide love and guidance, yes.”
As if reacting to the wise Master’s words, Obi-Wan sleepily snuggled deeper into Kitaddik’s arms. Kitaddik drew him tighter. Beside her, Yoda settled down to keep watch.
Soon the younglings and crèchemasters of Hawkbat Clan could not remember what it was like when Obi-Wan did not have visions plague him constantly. They hit at unexpected times and left the youngling feeling confused and drained. All younglings in the clan learned what to do to help him in the times immediately after - remind Obi-Wan of where he was and find an adult to come help. Untaro used it as a lesson in sending calm through the Force.
Bant, Garen, and Reeft were a great help especially. As Obi-Wan’s friends, they were invaluable in making sure the boy did not feel isolated or strange when he had to go the healers after a particularly vivid vision left him feverish, or when he woke up and was confused about what time and place he was in.
Still, the visions weighed heavily on the young child. At a lightsaber exhibition put together for the younglings by the newest Knights, Obi-Wan hid in the corner.
“Obi-Wan? Are you okay, little one? ” Kitaddik knelt down next to him on the soft floor. What was he seeing?
“Bad noises!” Obi-Wan squeaked, hands clamped over his ears. His lower lip wobbled like he was about to cry.
Kitaddik was confused. “What are the bad noises? ” The training salle was relatively quiet, the only sounds being the shuffling of the younglings where they sat cross-legged on the floor, the low hum of lightsabers, and the clear voices of Knights Ponta and Gyyrt.
The sound of two lightsabers striking each other came from behind Kitaddik -- the Knights must have moved on to a more active part of the demonstration -- and Obi-Wan visibly flinched, pulling into himself even more. “Tell them t’ stop hurting each other!”
Kitaddik smoothed a flop of copper hair out of his face. “Oh little one, they aren’t hurting each other. They’re showing you and your crèchemates some lightsaber forms you will need to know as Initiates and Padawans.”
Obi-Wan was unconvinced. “Lightsabers hurt people. ‘s all they do. I’ve seen it.”
The Wookiee Master’s heart broke. “Reach into the Force, Obi-Wan. Feel how they respect each other, how they are using this as a teaching moment.”
The Human boy’s eyes closed as he concentrated, reaching out into the Force. He apparently found nothing different than what his crèchemaster described, because he reluctantly began unfurling his arms from where they had been wrapped desperately around his legs when Kitaddik gave him a little nudge.
“Come, young one, let us rejoin the group.”
With one final sniffle, Obi-Wan took Kitaddik’s hand and toddled back over to where Knight Gyyrt was demonstrating a Shii-Cho form.
Master Yoda became a much more frequent visitor to Hawkbat Clan. While he interacted and spent time with all the younglings, he often took Obi-Wan aside for tea and, presumably, conversation. Untaro and Kitaddik never asked what they discussed, for Obi-Wan usually returned looking much more settled. This time however, he did not.
Master Yoda approached the two crèchemasters solemnly. “Knew he did, ahead of time, that Master Ishar’tan would not return to us from Onderon.”
The entire Temple had been in mourning for the past few days, ever since the news had reached the High Council that Master Ishar’tan had been killed on their mission.
“Believe, I do, that the next Seer, young Obi-Wan is,” Master Yoda concluded, to the shock of the two crèchemasters. The Order had been without its Seer for a few decades, after the passing of Master Daram’il. It was not unusual for it to take quite a while for the next Seer to appear, but it had been edging on a little too long. Still, neither of the two crèchemasters ever imagined they would be the ones to nurture the next Seer in their youth.
“Are you sure, Master?” Untaro asked, then flushed an even deeper blue at the thought of questioning the Grandmaster.
Master Yoda hrrmed in confirmation. “A conduit for the Force he is. Speaks through him it does. Seen it, I have.”
“What…” Kitaddik murmured, a bit overwhelmed. “What do we do?”
“Have a normal life, young Obi-Wan will not. Provide as much normalcy as you can for him, you must,” Master Yoda looked up at the two, then over to the corner where Obi-Wan was crouched by Reeft playing lift-feather. “Give him a support structure we must.”
Kitaddik and Untaro looked at each, resolving silently to do whatever they could to help Obi-Wan as they would do the same for any of the young beings in their care. The job of a crèchemaster was never easy but the work was a joy in and of itself, even when facing difficulties like this. With their help, Obi-Wan would thrive.
Padawan-Healer Vokara Che was not having a good day. A pair of stupid young Knights had gotten some nasty broken bones trying to do flips off of various rock faces in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. One of her fellow Padawans had accidentally spilled an entire vial of Fellucian phenycolicate on himself and the floor, and because of the burns inflicted, Vokara Che had been the one stuck with cleaning it up. On top of that, she’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep last night after studying for her Human and Near-Human Anatomy exam.
She forgot about all that when she saw Obi-Wan Kenobi come in.
Vokara Che first met Obi-Wan Kenobi when he was three years standard and she was still a junior Padawan following her Master around like a lost tooka kit. Obi-Wan had been brought in unconscious by his semi-frantic crèchemaster -- as much as a crèchemaster could truly be frantic, in Vokara Che’s experience they were some of the most level-headed beings in the galaxy -- who was crading the little Human boy in her arms.
“What happened? Did he hit his head?” Master Jaina had said while helping Master Kitaddik lay him down on a bed.
“No, no, he just collapsed while playing,” Master Kitaddik replied, stroking the red hair on the boy’s forehead out of his eyes.
Master Jaina took equipment out of the bag Vokara Che had quickly handed to her. “What’s his name?”
“Obi-Wan,” Master Kitaddik said as Vokara Che watched as her Master began taking Obi-Wan’s pulse, other hand on a thermometer wand getting his temperature.
“Pulse and temperature are both high,” Master Jaina reported, “but I don’t think that’s what caused him to collapse. Let me see…”
She placed her splayed fingers on Obi-Wan’s temple. Her brow quickly furrowed. “Fascinating…”
“What is it, Master?” Vokara Che stepped closer.
“Feel for him in the Force,” Master Jaina instructed.
Vokara Che closed her eyes and stretched out her senses, seeking the youngling’s Force presence. Instead of the normal bright Force signature of a child, Obi-Wan’s was clouded and murky, with spikes of energy going inward and outward. It reminded Vokara Che of the lightning and thunderstorms that sometimes hit Coruscant.
She opened her eyes and looked at her Master, confused. “What…?”
“A vision, Padawan,” Jaina sighed. She moved off of the corner of the bed she’d been perched on. There was a lot of empty bed space; Obi-Wan was very small. “Pop quiz: what’s the best procedure for handling visions in younglings?”
“Monitor their vitals, provide a stable environment, find a trusted person to be there when they awake,” Vokara Che recited after a moment of thinking hard.
“Well, we’ve got that last one right here,” Master Jaina nodded at Master Kitaddik. She looked back at Vokara Che. “Can I trust you to take care of the first two?”
Vokara Che straightened up and nodded seriously. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. I’ll be with Knights if you need me,” Master Jaina said, then swept out of the room. Corrand and Lowsyk
Vokara Che got straight to work. “I’m going to move you two to a quieter room down the hall in our pediatrics section, if that’s alright.”
“Of course,” Master Kitaddik murmured, then before Vokara Che could prep the bed for transfer, picked up the small boy by her side in one smooth motion. Vokara Che blinked, but rolled with it. Healers had to be just as unflappable as crèchemasters, after all.
She led the Wookiee Master and her charge to a small room in the back. It was a soft blue, with various types of birds painted on the ceiling and bantha calves roaming the walls. When Vokara Che was younger, it had been her preferred room for checkups or vaccinations.
Master Kitaddik gently set Obi-Wan down on the cozy bed, mindful of the small fences on the side to make sure no one youngling could fall out. Vokara Che went to the corner and wheeled over a small machine. She attached various sensors to Obi-Wan’s forehead and chest, then tucked him in.
“This will tell us if anything changes,” Vokara Che told Master Kitaddik, then pointed to a small button on the side. “Please press this button when Obi-Wan wakes up and I’ll come right back.”
“Thank you, Padawan,” Master Kitaddik rumbled. Vokara Che bowed, then left. Before she closed the door and activated a low privacy shield, she heard the crèchemaster singing a quiet song.
That had been a year and a half ago. In that time, Obi-Wan had visited the Halls multiple times a week. Vokara Che and her Master had been designated his primary Healer team. He didn’t always come to the Halls when he had a vision -- otherwise he’d be there multiple times a day -- but when he was unconscious for longer than usual or there were other extenuating circumstances, it became a necessity to monitor him. This job usually fell to Vokara Che, whose Master concerned herself more with the big picture of Obi-Wan’s case and left the smaller details to her much less busy Padawan. This meant that Vokara Che saw a lot of Obi-Wan, and as such, she’d bonded with the Human boy.
She and the other healers did a lot in the beginning to try and make Obi-Wan feel comfortable in the Halls, once they realized he’d be there quite frequently. They put little coloring books and a stuffed tooka in the room Obi-Wan was usually brought to. They were careful to always speak kindly to him and use gentle tones, as he was frequently scared after waking up. They even arranged for his Clan to have a field trip to come see the Halls of Healing, so it would be normalized a bit for him and the other younglings.
All this didn’t do as much as they’d hoped. Obi-Wan still hated coming to the Halls of Healing, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why -- he associated it with bad memories, literally. They could never make much progress with helping change this perception because they admitted him every other day.
Usually Obi-Wan was unconscious when he was brought in. Therefore it was a bit of a surprise to see him walking in of his own power, and unaccompanied no less.
“Obi-Wan?” Vokara Che exclaimed, surprised. “What’s wrong? Where are your crèchemasters?”
She drew the youngling close with one hand and opened the main doors to the Halls with the other. Peeking her head out, she couldn’t see either Master Untaro or Master Kitaddik anywhere in the vicinity. What was going on?
Obi-Wan mumbled something into her tunic.
“Young one?” Vokara Che drew him out and crouched down.
“Don’ feel good,” Obi-Wan repeated quietly.
“Okay,” she said, concerned. “Can you tell me what doesn’t feel good?”
“Feel dizzy,” he mumbled. “‘n sick.”
“Well, let’s get you checked out, okay?” Vokara Che said, standing up and walking over to the reception desk. Ignoring the Padawan-on-duty momentarily, she flipped the touchpad around to her side of the counter and tapped on the screen. It only took her a few seconds to admit Obi-Wan as a patient; they’d added a shortcut into the system since he came in so often.
“Could you comm Hawkbat Clan and tell them Obi-Wan’s here in the Halls?” Vokara Che asked the Padawan-on-duty, Padawan Whg, who nodded quickly and picked up the comm on the desk.
Vokara Che held Obi-Wan by the hand and led him back to the blue room. He was walking slower than usual and swayed slightly when it took Vokara Che a couple seconds to open the room.
“Alright, let’s get you settled,” she said, lifting Obi-Wan up under his arms and plopping him down on the bed. “You know the drill.”
Obi-Wan did indeed know the drill. He waited patiently -- Force bless him -- as Vokara Che quickly took down his vital signs and checked his Force presence, even though clearly he wanted to lay down. He was definitely sick, though it wasn’t too bad.
“You can get comfortable now, Obi-Wan,” Vokara Che smiled at him and watched as he immediately leaned over and put his head down on the pillow. His blinks became longer and longer.
“Just stay awake for a little while longer so I can ask a few more questions, okay?”
Obi-Wan opened his eyes to a degree that was, in Vokara Che’s opinion, comically wide, but at least he did it.
“Did you have a vision recently, Obi-Wan?”
Obi-Wan nodded into his pillow. Vokara Che never asked what he saw in his visions unless he volunteered that information; that was for people like Master Yoda or a mind healer to unpack.
“Was it different in some way to your other visions?”
Pause, then a shake of his head.
“When did you start feeling sick?”
Obi-Wan’s eyelids were getting heavy again. “Morning.”
“Stay with me, young one. Did you feel better or worse after your vision?”
“Worse.”
No surprise there. Obi-Wan’s visions left him feeling sick even at the best of times. If he was already ill before it then it’d be a double whammy.
“Did you tell your crèchemasters where you were going when you came to the Halls just now?”
No response. The boy looked away.
“Obi-Wan?”
“No,” Obi-Wan said reluctantly.
“Why not?”
He shrugged miserably. “Didn’t wanna bother anybody.”
Vokara Che softened. “Obi-Wan, you’re never bothering anybody when you need help.”
Obi-Wan still wasn’t looking at her. His lower lip wobbled every so slightly.
“You know that, right? It’s okay to need help. Someone will always help you when you ask. You’re not bothering anybody.”
Another pause. Then, to Vokara Che’s slight horror, Obi-Wan began crying -- silently, as he always cried when he was conscious and could help it. Still, he was crying. With all of his inner strength and maturity, she sometimes forgot he was only five standard.
“Oh, young one,” Vokara Che murmured and drew him close. He shook silently against her tunics and cried himself out for a minute or two as she stroked up and down his back with one hand and with her other tucked his small head into her shoulder. When he finally pulled away, sniffing, there was a damp spot on her tabards. That was okay; they’d certainly seen worse.
“You just rest now, okay?” Vokara Che swept a lock of red hair out of his eyes. “BeshToo will watch over you while I talk with Master Jaina and get you some medicine.”
Obi-Wan nodded and watched as she took B2-53J9 -- better known as BeshToo -- from its corner and turned it on.
“This is your patient,” she told it, gesturing to Obi-Wan. “Please watch over him until I return.”
The medical droid beeped in acknowledgement and hummed to life, scanning the environment. Satisfied, Vokara Che sat down next to Obi-Wan in the chair next to his bed.
“I’ll stay right here until you fall asleep, alright?”
“M’kay,” Obi-Wan yawned, nestling deeper into the covers and closing his eyes. He was asleep within seconds. Vokara Che smiled to herself and made her way back to the check-in area, where she found her Master scribbling on a few datapads.
“I heard Obi-Wan’s here?” Master Jaina asked, finishing whatever she was doing and then looking up.
“Yes, Master, he --” Vokara Che cut herself off at the sight of Master Untaro (Master Jakorr, if she was being proper, but the nice Pantoran Master had told her not to stand on formality with him the very first day they met) rushing into the Halls. Seeing Vokara Che and Master Jaina, he didn’t stop until he had reached them.
“Where’s Obi-Wan?” he asked, his usual calm demeanor temporarily lost.
“The usual room,” Vokara Che said, pointing down the hallway. Master Untaro had started making his way down the hall quickly when Vokara Che continued. “He’s asleep.”
That got the Master to turn around. “Asleep or unconscious?”
A relevant question when it came to Obi-Wan. “Asleep.”
“I won’t bother him then,” Master Untaro sighed, walking back to the pair reluctantly. “He needs as much sleep as he can get.”
Vokara Che and Master Jaina nodded their agreement at that.
Master Untaro went on. “What happened to him?”
Both Masters turned to Vokara Che.
“I was hoping you could help me answer that, Master Untaro,” Vokara Che remarked, feeling bold. She could still feel the damp spot on her tunic from where Obi-Wan had cried. “He just showed up here alone about fifteen or twenty minutes ago saying he didn’t feel well, so I gave him a check-up and he’s definitely sick. He had a vision recently but says the sickness started before then. He fell asleep pretty quickly but not before saying he didn’t tell his crèchemasters because he thought it would be bothering them.”
Master Untaro looked faintly crushed. “I - we would never - “
Vokara Che softened. “I know, Master Untaro. I wasn’t implying anything; I know how much Obi-Wan means to you and Master Kitaddik. But it’s a problem that he thought he couldn’t go to you, is it not? We’re just lucky he decided to come to us .”
“Yes, it’s a problem. We’ve been having some issues in the crèche,” Master Untaro admitted. “Some of the other younglings have been getting a little… jealous of the special attention Obi-Wan receives. We’ve meditated about jealousy as a group and had some one-on-one sessions, and that’s helped most of them, but for some it’s still a sticking point. Master Kitaddik and I have been a little overly aware of giving Obi-Wan special treatment as a result. Unfortunately, it seems like it’s backfired on Obi-Wan instead.”
He looked into the eyes of the Master-Healer and Padawan-Healer. “I’m sorry. I know Master Kitaddik will be too when she hears of it. We’ll stress to Obi-Wan that he can come to us at any time.”
“Thank you, Master Untaro,” Master Jaina stepped in. “We just want what’s best for Obi-Wan.”
Master Untaro nodded. “As do I. Now, you said he was sick?”
Vokara Che nodded. “He’s feverish and dizzy. The scanner said it was probably Borrian flu. I was going to get some medication when I ran into Master Jaina and then you.”
“How contagious is the Borrian flu?”
“It’s contagious but not especially so,” Master Jaina interjected. “Monitor the rest of the crèche. If anyone starts showing symptoms, send them down here.”
Master Untaro frowned. “I did notice Poa-Zli looking a little pale earlier… Perhaps I better comm Master Kitaddik and check on things.”
Vokara Che bowed. “I will administer the medicine to Obi-Wan then.”
Master Untaro nodded and stepped away, hand raising his comm from his belt to his face to talk to his fellow crèchemaster. Once he was a safe distance away, Master Jaina turned and pinned her Padawan with a look.
“What you said was right, Vokara Che,” Master Jaina said. Vokara Che stared at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “But if you ever take that tone with a Master again…”
Vokara Che lowered her head. “Yes, Master. I’m sorry.”
Master Jaina stood still for a moment then nodded, satisfied that she’d imparted the lesson on her Padawan. “Good. Now get that medicine. It’s in the second cabinet to the left in Storeroom Trill.”
Vokara Che bowed again, slightly lower this time to show her continued deference, then made her leave.
When she returned to the room Obi-Wan was in, carefully opening the door and tip-toeing in, he was still fast asleep. She breathed a sigh of relief. He truly did need all the sleep he could get. In the year and a half since they’d taken on Obi-Wan’s case, both Vokara Che and her Master had delved deep into the effects of visions. Metaphysically, visions involved one’s body opening up to the Force in a great way, and the Force channeling through said body in a massive influx of energy. Physically, this seemed to translate mainly to severe fatigue, with occasional fevers or, in even rarer cases, seizures. Obi-Wan was mainly afflicted with the first two, something that would be minor in most beings. The problem was that visions hit Obi-Wan multiple times a day, giving his body little time to recover before the next one. As a result, he was a relatively frail young boy; his immune system was compromised, he was underweight, and naturally he was always tired. His crèchemasters and instructors at the Temple knew this, and did their best to help. Someone was always coaxing him to eat or take a nap, which Obi-Wan hated simply because he already missed so much of his time in crèche being spent asleep or with the healers. Moreover, he had monthly checkups to make sure he wasn’t getting too bad. The problem with those were that they were impossible to schedule, as to get accurate results they had to be done at a time when Obi-Wan hadn’t had a vision in a little while, and those were rare times indeed.
Vokara Che checked the monitors carefully, frowning at the results. BeshToo was reporting that Obi-Wan’s fever had risen slightly. She stood at his bedside for a moment, weighing what to do. On one hand, he really needed to sleep. On the other, without intervention he would continue getting sicker by the hour. The Boorian flu wasn’t life-threatening, but it did have a tendency to progress and make the patient miserable. Deciding the need for treatment briefly outweighed the need for slumber, she resolved to wake her patient up to take the medicine and let him go back to bed right after.
Not wanting Obi-Wan to be up any longer than necessary, Vokara Che prepped everything she’d need then: a tiny cup of the medicine and a slightly larger cup of muja juice to wash the foul taste out of his mouth. Thus armed, she began the task of waking up Obi-Wan.
“Obi-Wan,” she murmured, touching gently both his shoulder and his Force presence.
“Mmmn,” Obi-Wan grumbled, and Vokara Che smiled in spite of herself.
“Time for some medicine, youngling.”
Obi-Wan made a face but opened his eyes, which were slightly glazed. This was where a normal youngling would have taken one look at the deep purple sludge and refused to drink, but Obi-Wan was not a normal youngling.
Still, he didn’t look pleased. Vokara Che waved the two cups in front of his face, making them dance. “Look, they’re saying ‘come drink me, Obi-Wan!’”
Obi-Wan giggled and took the cups from her. If asked, he would probably say in that high voice of his that he was too old for such nonsense, never mind the fact that he was only five standard. But Vokara Che knew he secretly enjoyed it. She watched him down one then the other, face puckering up like a Dressellian.
“Blegh,” he spat, which Vokara Che figured about summed it up.
“Alright, back to sleep you get, youngling,” she said, taking the empty cups from him. “Master Untaro will be sad he missed you awake.”
Obi-Wan, who had been leaning back down, stopped. “Master Untaro’s here?”
“Of course,” Vokara Che said softly. “He came as soon as he heard. Master Kitaddik’s stuck watching the other younglings, otherwise she’d be here as well.”
The young boy fell asleep smiling. Vokara Che shut her eyes for a brief moment, then left the room again, leaving the cups for BeshToo to wash.
Master Jaina was still in the check-in area talking with Master Untaro, who had evidently finished his call.
“His fever’s gone up slightly but I administered the medicine. I think we should keep him here overnight for observation and to make sure none of the other younglings get sick,” Vokara Che said as a greeting to her Master.
Master Jaina nodded. “Good and thorough assessment, Padawan.”
Master Untaro looked worried. “I can’t stay overnight. Master Kitaddik just reported to me that a few of the younglings are fighting. It’s not fair to leave her alone to deal with that.”
“I can stay,” Vokara Che exclaimed before she could even think about the words.
Her Master frowned. “You have a big exam in a few days, Padawan, and you haven’t been sleeping well as of late. You should be resting tonight.”
“Obi-Wan needs someone familiar around,” Vokara Che pointed out, “and he knows me well at this point.”
Master Jaina thought about it, then said reluctantly, “ Alright. But try to get some sleep while you’re here.”
“Thank you, Padawan,” Master Untaro said, relieved.
Late that night, as Vokara Che sat in a comfortable chair she’d dragged in from one of the long-term stay rooms, her thoughts drifted to the boy lying in front of her. He lived a life she couldn’t even begin to imagine, and he did so without complaint. She knew it wasn’t an easy experience, but one wouldn’t know it simply by looking at him. Obi-Wan always seemed so full of life. Even when he was too tired to keep his eyes open, there was clearly a spark inside of him. She skimmed his Force presence reflexively, looking for that spirit. Instead, she found that he was entering the beginnings of a vision. Before her eyes, his Force signature went from the still waters of sleep to the spiky fog of precognition.
Vokara Che sat up, watching carefully. She was so still that she could hear the blood pumping in her ear cones. It took a few minutes for Obi-Wan to come out of it, though as she sat there it felt like much longer.
“‘’re they still here?” Obi-Wan’s high voice rang throughout the room, scratchy and hoarse as it was from hours asleep.
“I’m the only one in the room, Obi-Wan,” she assured him, voice and Force presence as soothing as she could make them.
This did not calm him down. “Then they must still be here. Have to warn everyone!”
“Who is “they”, young one?” Vokara Che leaned closer.
Obi-Wan turned his gaze on her, and his blue eyes pierced her very soul. “He’s marching inside. And everyone in the Temple is going to die.”
A sharp, instinctual note of panic punctured the calm aura she’d put into the Force, but she quickly got it under control. It was just a vision, she told herself, then repeated the same sentiment to Obi-Wan. Yes, a darker side of herself thought back. But a vision of the future .
She was broken out of her horrified suspicions by Obi-Wan starting to scramble out of bed.
“No, no,” she told him, putting a hand on his chest. “You’re sick, you need to be in bed.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Gonna kill everyone, Pad’wan Vo.”
“They’ll be okay,” she hushed. “Everyone’s okay right now, there’s no one in the Temple who shouldn’t be here.”
“Promise?” His voice wavered in the dark.
“I promise.”
Clearly not all the way appeased but willing to trust “Pad’wan Vo”, Obi-Wan lay back against the covers and stared at the ceiling for a moment before the quiet waves of sleep pulled him back under.
Vokara Che did not sleep the rest of the night.
The next morning when Master Jaina entered the room, she was still sitting there staring at Obi-Wan’s slumbering form.
“Padawan? Are you alright?” Master Jaina questioned when Vokara Che didn’t move.
“Do his visions always come true?” she asked instead of responding.
Master Jaina blinked then shrugged carefully. “The future is always in motion. Why? What’s this about?”
Vokara Che just shook her head, unable to talk. By the time Master Untaro arrived (“ready for a long talk with Obi-Wan about self-worth,” her Master said), she'd mostly recovered. She never told anyone else what Obi-Wan said that night, but she never forgot about it either.