sparky // a padawan story

chapter 34. gone.

It's a normal day. Nothing special about it.
Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, and I are going about our usual Jedi business.
"So what's the big rush?" Anakin questions as we walk through the underworlds of Coruscant, back to our ship after doing a scan of the area.
"The Jedi Council has called an emergency meeting," Obi-Wan tells him.
Anakin sighs. "I can see it now. Another long, boring debate."
"Would you rather they call you in to train younglings?" Ahsoka asks him.
Anakin chuckles. "Are you crazy?"
I laugh. "We all know how much you dislike those younglings, Anakin." Out of the blue, a blast is fired at us from above, barely missing. Obi-Wan drags me behind a pile of supply crates, while Anakin and Ahsoka do the same on the opposite side of us.
"Any idea where that shot came from?" Obi-Wan asks us.
"Above," I say sarcastically.
"Really, Sparky? I had no idea," he retorts.
"A sniper. I see him up there," Ahsoka points up.
A blast hits one of the crates in front of Obi-Wan and I, which he shields us from. "All right, here's the plan. Anakin, you flank him on the right. Ahsoka and Arlo, you cover the lower streets. I'm going after him." The other three of us nods as all of us ignite our sabers and go to our positions. Ahsoka and I sprint through the streets, looking up above for any signs of this sniper above. Something starts to feel... off. Obi-Wan walks out of cover, seemingly thinking that the sniper is nowhere around. But I see him from the corner of my eye.
"Obi-Wan, look out!" I shout up. But it's too late. I hear a grunt of pain, and he falls too quickly from the top of the building for me to soften the blow. "Master!"
"Obi-Wan!" Anakin shouts from above as I rush over to my master and kneel down to him. He's not moving... no... no...
"We've got him, go!" Ahsoka tells Anakin. I hold Obi-Wan in my arms and put my fingers to his neck for a pulse. There's nothing.
I start to panic as my eyes fill up with tears. "Ahsoka, there's nothing, he isn't breathing, we have to get help, now!"
Ahsoka kneels down and checks his pulse, and her face falls. Her voice is shaky. "Arlo..." The sirens heading our way says it all.
"No," I say as I shake him to try to wake him up. "No, no, he's not. Obi-Wan, get up, please get up! Come on, Obi! Wake up! Wake..." Ahsoka puts a hand on my shoulder, and I let out a sob. All of the noise around me goes white, my vision gets blurry with tears that streak down onto my master's lifeless body. I don't hear or see when Anakin runs up to us, I stay focused on Obi-Wan. I see him shake and yell his name. All I really remember is crying and screaming his name like a child as they pulled me off of his body. I felt completely helpless. I was empty. I was going numb all over again.
—
24 hours.
I haven't left my room.
I haven't said a word. Unless you count my practically endless sobs from last night as words. But now, I feel hollow.
They excused me from my lessons. When Ahsoka and Master Plo come up to my door to ask how I'm doing and ask if I'm hungry, I ignore them and pretend to be asleep. Whenever someone walks past my door, I hear whispers about what happened, how bad they feel. But I lay still on my bed, staring at the ceiling, drowning in my own thoughts.
The first thing I think about: it's my fault. I knew something was wrong, and I should've acted quicker. I should have found a way to save him, warn him about the sniper quicker. Or maybe I should have found a way to catch him. Maybe it was the fall that killed him, not the shot. Then it's even more so my fault.
Next: what now? How am I supposed to go on after this? Obi-Wan was everything to me. A master, a friend, a father. He saved me when I needed it most, and no amount of anything I say or do could ever have repayed him. But now, are they just going to force me to forget about Obi-Wan, assign me to some random new master? One that I mean nothing to? I meant something to Obi-Wan before I even knew he existed.
I turn on my side and stare at Waxer's helmet, sitting atop my dresser. A thought begins to form in my head. Leave the Order and kill his killer. I'd avoid getting stuck with some random master, and I wouldn't break the Code when I kill the sniper. The only problem with that is that Obi-Wan would have never wanted that. He'd be disappointed, and I can hardly stand even the thought of doing that. I roll out of my bed, my legs weak from not moving them in 24 hours, and drag myself to my bathroom. I don't even bother putting on new clothes, I just slip on my dark grey robe. I look in the mirror as I put my hood up, and the sight is horrifying. My eyes are red and face tight from dried tears. My nose still has a reddish tint to it, and bags line underneath my eyes. I can almost see myself at 12 standing in the mirror in front of me. Empty. Black hole swirling inside of me.
I hear a knock at my door. "Arlo? Can I come in?" Is that... Satine? I decide to bite the blast and let her in. I open the door with the Force from where I stand. She enters as I step out of the bathroom. Her usual elegant dress is discarded for a simple brown one with a cape. She looks like she's cried already, too. "Oh, Arlo, dear, come here, I'm so sorry." She walks over and guides me to my couch, which we sit on. She puts the hood of my robe down, my hair out it's usual ponytail and slightly disheveled. She puts a strand of it behind my ear. I look down at my lap while she rubs my back. "Do you want to talk to me?"
It's the same feeling as when I first met Obi-Wan. I don't mean to start talking, I just... do. My voice is hardly a whisper. "I don't know what to do... how do I do this without him? He came when I needed him most. This... this is my fault... all my fault." A singular tear streaks down my cheek. She wipes it away swiftly.
"It is not your fault, Arlo, you know if he were here, he wouldn't think that," she tells me gently. "And he'll always be with you in your heart. He loved you dearly, Arlo, I can tell you that for certain."
"...He loved you too, Satine."
She holds back her own tears and nods. "The funeral is starting soon. They sent me to get you, since you weren't answering for anyone else." She stands and helps me up with her, and I put my hood back up as we exit the door, and almost automatically run into Master Plo and Ahsoka.
"Arlo..." Ahsoka starts as she scoops me in a hug. Tears form in both of our eyes as I rest my head on her shoulder, letting the tears seep into her robe. "I'm so, so sorry," she says softly.
"Me too," I whisper back as I let go.
Master Plo puts a hand on my shoulder. "Have you eaten, Arlo? Or slept?" I look down and shake my head no. "You must take care of yourself, Arlo. You're going to eat something when this is over, and then you need to rest, alright?" I don't really give him a response, rather, I look over to Anakin and Padmé to the side. She tries to console Anakin, but he never really responds to her. His hood is up and he has an angry look on his face. He locks eyes with me out of nowhere, and he nods at me. Nods as if to say he understands, he feels the same way as I do, he's lost on what to do now. Padmé makes her way over to us and greets us, giving Satine, Ahsoka, and I hugs.
"I'm sorry about your Master, Arlo. He was a great man," she tells me. I nod in thanks and agreement as the doors open, and we enter the funeral. I feel myself almost stop breathing at the sight of my master under a white funeral sheet. I stand between Padmé and Satine by his head. Ahsoka is next to Padmé, and Master Plo is next to her. Anakin stands alone at his feet. Other Jedi stand around the body, too. I feel pitiful looks directed towards me. I always have hated pity, but I don't even do anything about it this time. I zone out for most of the ceremony and decide to try something that's probably a stupid idea. I start to try to talk to him through the Force.
"I know you're never going to hear this, Obi-Wan... but I just wanted to say sorry. I'm sorry. If I had warned you quicker, or caught you, you wouldn't be dead. Everything you've done to protect me, and I couldn't do the same for you the one time I had to. I know I was a pain in your rear from day one, I know I was never the ideal padawan. You should've never had to deal with all of my baggage, they should've put you with someone who had everything together. But you got stuck with me, and you took me under your wing like I was your own. I didn't deserve you. I never have. And, frankly, I never will. I'll never forget you, Obi. Not even if I tried." Tears start to flow out of my eyes as I think of my final words to him. "...You've been the father I've always needed, Obi. And I love you for that." I choke back a sob as he's lowered into the ground. Satine quickly guides my head to her shoulder, letting my tears wet her cape. I cry softly into her shoulder, and she lets her own tears out, too. One of her hands rubs my back while her other one covers her mouth. The tomb closes, and a beam of bronze light is emitted from it. The light is beautiful, but it's tragic to me at the same time. People begin to exit the room, but I don't move.
Satine stays with me for a few moments, then decides to go. "I'll give you a moment, Arlo. You know where to find me if you want to talk," she whispers as she looks one last time at Obi-Wan and exits. Only Anakin and I are left in the room, standing on opposite sides of the tomb, the only noise sounding through the room being my sniffles and held-back cries. After a few minutes, Anakin walks over to me and puts and arm around my shoulders. We both stay looking at the bronze beam.
Anakin speaks to me an a crackly voice. I'm assuming he hasn't spoke much since it happened, either. "I swear to you, Arlo. I won't let our master have died in vain. I swear." He squeezes my shoulder as he walks away, leaving me alone in the room.
I finally feel myself break down completely. I drop down to my knees and sob, the cries echoing throughout the empty funeral chamber. The black hole building inside of me finally forms above, then trickles down like black stardust all around me.
Ahsoka runs back into the room suddenly. "Arlo, there—!" She looks up at the black remnants. "Oh no. Master Plo! Master Plo, please come here!"
Master Plo jogs in behind Ahsoka. "What's—? Oh, no, Arlo." He lifts me up off the ground and practically drags me out of the room as I sob, followed by Ahsoka. He keeps an arm around me as we walk quickly through the temple halls.
"What's happening, Master Plo?" Ahsoka asks, worried.
"It happened often when she was younger," Master Plo starts to explain. "Sometimes her darker emotions run through her so strongly that she can't contain it, and it explodes out of her into what we like to call a 'black hole'. It's highly uncommon, and it's not an actual black hole, of course, but that's what it feels like inside of her. I've never seen it happen to her while she was awake, though, so we're taking her to medbay. Is that okay, Arlo?"
"Just make it stop!" I shout through sobs. "Make it all go away, please!"
"Breathe, Arlo, you're gonna be okay," Master Plo tries to soothe me as we enter the medbay. Master Windu pokes his head out of one of the rooms as Ahsoka guides me into the one next to it.
"Master Plo, is Padawan Arlo all right?" Master Windu questions.
"I don't think so," Master Plo says. "It's the black hole." He follows Ahsoka and I into the room, and Ahsoka sits me on the bed. A medical droid enters.
"What has happened?" it questions.
"Arlo here needs some rest," Master Plo says. The medical droid goes to a table and grabs a needle.
"No, no, keep that thing away from me!" I shout.
"It will be okay, Arlo, it's only gonna hurt for a second—" Ahsoka tries to calm me down.
"No!"
"I'm sorry, Arlo, just calm down for a moment," Master Plo says as he rolls up my sleeve and holds out my arm to the droid. I try to shake free from his strong grasp while sobbing and screaming like a toddler. The needle sinks into my arm as I cry for Obi-Wan, shouting his name as if he's gonna come back from the dead to get them to stop. My cries slow as I feel my eyes start to droop, and Ahsoka guides me into a laying position on the hospital bed as I unwillingly fall asleep.
—
I wake up after Force knows how long. I look down at my arm, and there's a bandaid where they sunk the needle into my skin previously. I roll the sleeves of my shirt and robe back down. I notice there's no one in the room, not even a medical droid, so I decide to leave on my own accord.
I walk through the halls as discreetly as possible towards not mine, but Obi-Wan's quarters. People give me sorry looks, including even the people in my clan that despised me. I look at my feet as I walk, avoiding eye contact of any kind at all costs. I open the door to Obi-Wan's quarters and sneak inside. All of the quarters in the temple are identical, but we make them unique in our own ways. However, Obi-Wan's room is very simple. It smells of tea and oak in the humble abode, and there's hardly any decoration. The only light that comes into the room is the light from the sun shining through the blinds on the windows. I look around his room for a sign. A sign for me to stay.
I first examine the bed. Whenever I'm in here, it's always neatly made with it's plain sheets. Beside it sits a nightstand with a tea cup and his favorite poetry book.
I then walk over to the couch. On it sits a singular simple throw pillow, and the coffee table in front of it is also littered with books. Typically the books are stacked in a neat pile in the middle of the table, so I organize them back into the order they're usually in.
Next I go to the kitchenette. A few tea cups linger around on the counter around a vase of flowers in the center, so I put them in the sink and rinse them. I swear, the only dish he has is those tea cups. I take a glass of water and pour it into the vase of the yellow sunpetal flowers. But his favorite flowers were honeyblossoms. Whenever he got the sunpetals, it was because they were always my favorite.
For some reason, I feel drawn back to the nightstand. I sit down on the bed next to it and think for a moment. What is it about this nightstand...? I decide to look through the poetry book. I open to a random page and skim a few lines.
There is no greater misery
Than to remember
With bitter regret
A day when you were happy.
I slam the maroon-covered book closed automatically and put it back on top of the small table. Of course, of all poems, that's the one I open up to. Then it gets me thinking again. Of course my last real words to him were sarcastic. I bury my head in my hands in disappointment, starting to fight off the tears again.
I suddenly hear a voice from nowhere. A voice that's almost just as soothing as Obi-Wan's, but not quite.
"Inside." I lift my head up and hesitantly open the drawer on the nightstand. Inside I find two items. An old lightsaber and a folded up piece of paper with my name on it. "Take them."
I grab the simple-hilted lightsaber from the drawer and examine it. It's similar to the design that Obi-Wan had explained he had for his first saber. But Obi-Wan lost his first one, and his second, so it can't possibly be his. I carefully ignite the saber, emitting a green blade from the hilt. This must be the lightsaber he told me about in his stories of how he defeated the Sith Lord, Darth Maul. This blade belonged to Qui-Gon Jinn. I turn the saber back off again and place it on the bed next to me.
I then take out the folded paper with my name on it. What could this possibly be? I unfold it to reveal a letter.
Dearest Arlo,
If you're reading this, I can safely assume that Anakin and I never made it back from the Citadel.
So he wrote this before the mission to the Citadel, before I snuck along with him. I continue reading.
Of course, there's always a risk to every mission I go on, so maybe I should have written this earlier, but you're usually right by my side with me on said missions. And I'll be honest, this is the first time I've ever genuinely been concerned about not making it back.
I'm writing this to tell you the thing that I wish I could have told you in person while I was here. First things first, don't blame yourself for anything regarding this situation. You weren't with me, and there's nothing you possibly could have done. Although, if, for some reason, you somehow found a way to sneak along with me, I won't at all be surprised. Either way, if you were with me or you weren't, it is in no way your fault. I can't bear with the thought of you blaming yourself for my death.
Secondly, I want to tell you a story. I figured it was fitting since you always seemed to love the stories I had to tell, though I never really understood why. The story of how I really became your Master. After I carried you into the temple that day, now so long ago, Master Yoda had let me keep a close eye on you, which you know. Yoda had always known he'd pair you with me for your training, especially after I had trained Anakin. You both had similar traumas, and he knew I'd know how to deal with that. But it grew harder and harder to watch you every day. Harder because everyone, including myself, could see that you were struggling. You always walked with your head down, never talked to anyone. Then, of course, the black hole, as you call it. It hurt knowing that I couldn't help you quite yet, so I begged Master Yoda to move you up to the rank of Padawan. He wasn't entirely sure at first, but I convinced him to let me train Anakin, so I could convince him to let me begin training you, too. Eventually he agreed that you were ready, and you became my beloved padawan.
When you started to open up to me about your past, the black hole, I swore that night in the kitchens to myself that I'd never let that happen again while I was around. I meant when I said that black holes create the strongest and biggest galaxies that night. You're one of the strongest individuals I've ever known. Your past has made you into the resolute young Jedi you are today. There is nothing you can't do. I've always admired you for that. But I know you still struggle with some of your feelings, between your growing affection for Korkie, your confused state of finding out your mother was killed at your father's hand, and occasionally just that sparky attitude of yours in general. I worry about you, as any good master would, but I trust you'll be just fine. Even if I'm not physically with you, I'm always going to be there to help get you through anything through my training and lessons I've taught you.
The lightsaber you found with this letter belonged to my master, Qui-Gon Jinn. I want you to have it, and take good care of it. And, of course, you'll have it in case you ever end up needing it. Though I'll admit you probably won't, you take better care of your saber than I. Don't forget that weapon is your life.
Somewhere in one of my books on the coffee table is a small picture that I use as a bookmark, and I want you to take that, too. It's in the blue Jedi storybook somewhere between the pages. Madam Jocasta drew it a while back while we were in the library and gave it to me, saying that we were the most 'chaotic bunch' to ever step foot in her library. I think you'll like it.
You truly have been a joy to watch grow up and to teach, Arlo, and I mean that. I have the upmost confidence that you will always continue to make me proud.
Sending my love forever,
Obi-Wan Kenobi.
A few years drop down my cheek onto the letter. I wipe my eyes as I refold the letter. I put Qui-Gon's lightsaber on my belt next to my own and make my way to sit on the couch. I grab the Jedi storybook from the middle of the stack and thumb through the pages until I stop upon a small piece of paper in the crease. I pull it out and close the book, placing it on top of the stack, and observe the small picture.
It's just a pencil sketch, nothing extravagant. Obi-Wan and I sit on one side of the library table while Anakin and Ahsoka sit across from us. Anakin's head rests on the table as he takes a nap while Ahsoka uses a towel to wipe up Obi-Wan's tea that Anakin spilled when his head fell on the table, which wasn't even supposed to be there in the first place because no food or drink is allowed in the library. My head rests on Obi-Wan's shoulder as he points to a book in front of him. I grip a pencil in my hand, and a piece of paper sits in front of me.
I remember this day. This was after Cad Bane broke into the temple, when Obi-Wan insisted that I finish my essay if he promised to help me instead of him excusing me from turning it in. Ahsoka, who was still in guard duty in the library, decided to sit with us, and Anakin only came to bring Obi-Wan his tea. I tearfully laugh at the memory. We were so happy, not a care in the world except for that stupid essay I took no pleasure in writing. I need to remember to thank Madam Jocasta for drawing this. I had no idea she could do anything of the sort. It was simple, but so beautiful. The letter, the drawing, and the saber. This is what I was looking for. It's my sign to stay.
I don't want to leave Obi-Wan's room. Just sitting here with the letter and picture in hand offers the smallest bit of comfort to my currently inconsolable self. For some reason, it feels like I'm not alone in here. And it's probably because I'm not.
The voice from before speaks again. "Be wary of your assumptions, Arlo."
I suddenly realize who the voice belongs to. "...Master Qui-Gon?"
"That is I."
"What do you mean, 'be wary of your assumptions'?"
"Patience. It will be revealed... in time."
—
i listened to grey by why don't we while writing part of this and almost started ugly crying that song is so sad and beautiful and UGH. anyways, this was painful to write because i didn't wanna do arlo like this, it's making me sad :( this arc always fills me with unseething rage at the jedi council. wonder what arlo's gonna have to say about it...
thanks for reading! -a 🪐