Undone

Living Expenses

Day 73

Desolate. Inconsolable. Fantastically aggrieved. Bitter. Bottomless. Empty. Guilty. Shamed. Bound. Pained. Numb. Cold. Small. Irrelevent. Unworthy. Tainted. Trapped. Anguished. Despairing. Hurt.

Alone.

This was what it was to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, former padawan of Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn, now a nobody, a nothing.

No. Not just now. Always. Always nothing.

The Council had seen it.

His master had seen it.

Even his torturer had seen it.

Now, Obi-Wan saw it for himself. He knew. He had always known really, but he had hoped... No. No more of that. It was time to grow up and face the hard truths; truths that had been evident since before his banishment to Bandomeer, truths going back to his initiate days in the crèche. He had always been... different... angry... unbalanced... un-Jedi. Perhaps... perhaps Bruck was never a bully at all. Perhaps he was a teacher, of sorts, trying to show him the truth only Obi-Wan had been too blind to see it. And Master Goor Pama and Master Jinn... perhaps they had been right the first time, right that he was better off as a farmer. If he had listened, if he had just accepted the transfer to the Agri-Corps none of this suffering had to take place. Not his. Not his master's.

He could see now, the Council had tried to do him a kindness and he had thrown it back in their faces, coercing Master Jinn to make him a padawan out of the man's misplaced sense of honor. Now the Council was reprimanding him; showing him the consequences of his arrogance, his obstinance, his continued and unquestionable unworthiness.

That he was here was right. It was just. It was what he deserved.

"Um... Are you okay?"

Obi-Wan chose not to lift his head off his knees at the soft and unfamiliar voice. When he heard the sound of the ray shield drop and someone enter the cell, Obi-Wan only tightened his grip around his knees and tucked his head down even closer.

"I... I won't hurt you. I promise. I-I... just thought... I just came to see if you were okay. Are you? Okay I mean..."

The voice was close now and yet still very soft, even... gentle. Finally, Obi-Wan looked up, his sense of morbid curiosity winning out. What he saw surprised him. Kneeling a meter or so away from him was a rather scrawny Rattataki male. Bald with the snow colored skin, dark tattoos, and white eyes characteristic of his species, the male had a haunted look though he didn't appear to much older than Obi-Wan himself. The Rattataki was dressed in a worn and ratty set of overalls whose threadbare condition shown in the numerous old patches and new holes that covered most of its surface.

"What do you want?" Obi-Wan finally asked as he looked at the boy in a dead stare. The teen seemed startled by his coldness and retreated back a half meter seeming to debate whether a full retreat was necessary. The boy stopped moving and squared his shoulders; his decision made.

"My name is Adaenkinith Ryl," he said extending an open palm to Obi-Wan; a gesture of good will. It was not returned.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay," the boy answered suddenly cool himself. "Perhaps this was a mistake," he said as he rose to his feet and backed out of the small cell. Once clear he reactivated the ray shield, but he didn't leave. Instead he stared at the slightly hooded blue-gray eyes in the cell.