Obi-Wan started, attention turned inward to his blocked-off bond. There was desperation and sadness leaking through from his Master, and the feeling that let him know that Qui-Gon was looking for him, worried about him. Again, the relief hit him hard that his Master - former Master? - was alive. With a short shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the man before him, reaching up to adjust the cap he had found on the first transport. It was the best way he could think of to hide his braid and the give-away haircut. It was as dirty as he felt. "I was given the name Bennet by Thane and Genie," he said. "They said I could come to the Monastery for help."
The doorkeeper smiled slightly. "I know Thane and Genie," he said. "Your last name?" Behind him stood a second man, and Obi-Wan guessed he was armed.
"Kenobi," he said.
"That is not one of ours."
"No," Obi-Wan said. "It is my own."
The man nodded. "Welcome," he said, and opened the huge doors. "Please, follow me."
The hallway he followed the man down was large enough that the Healer Theela could walk through it without ducking. It was much like the outside; built in solid, light-colored stone blocks, paved with the same. He'd enjoyed the gardens that lined the walk from the gate in the surrounding wall to the actual building. It was cooler inside, and the place fairly brimmed with peace and serenity. He thought he could come to enjoy it.
Doors lined the hallway they walked down, most of them closed. One was ajar and revealed a large room that looked to him like a cafeteria of some sort, set up with tables and chairs. It was empty, as far as he could see, but he could hear clanking pots echoing inside. He was ushered into an office near the end of the hallway, although the hallway looked like it continued on and turned to the right. A woman sat behind a cluttered desk and peered up at them. "Yes?"
"A petitioner to see Ad'lai," the doorkeeper said.
"Name?"
"He said his name was Bennet, courtesy of Thane and Genie."
For the first time, the woman smiled. "It is good to hear of them," she said, and fixed her eyes on Obi-Wan. "How long do you wish to remain?"
He hesitated a moment. "As long as I am allowed."
She nodded shortly. "Ad'lai will see him. I will find him a guide."
The doorkeeper - the man had never introduced himself - ushered Obi-Wan around the desk and to the door behind her. As they passed, Obi-Wan noted the blaster not-so-carefully concealed behind her desk. He opened the door, stepped in, and it closed firmly behind him. The room reminded him of Jocasta Nu's office, actually, simple and efficient. The desk was neat, as was the man sitting behind it. He looked up and tilted his head.
"Yes?"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "I was told by Thane and Genie that I could find sanctuary here," he said, and was surprised to note that his voice was trembling slightly.
The man nodded slowly, then moved from behind the desk. The hover chair moved silently, and Obi-Wan took a step back as the man maneuvered around between him and the desk. "What's your name?"
"They gave me the name Bennet," he responded, and wondered if they would ever let him sit down. The walk from the edge of the town had been a long one. The conductor of the bus he'd taken as far out as he could had said it was an hour to the monastery, and he'd been surprised at the accuracy of the assessment.
"And your true name?"
"Obi-Wan Kenobi."
The man fixed him with stern eyes. "Why are you here?"
He thought a moment, considering what he wanted to say. "Because Thane and Genie mentioned peace, and that it might be found here. And I would like to find it again."
"What is it you are running from?"
"Running from?" Obi-Wan stuttered, stepping back. The man's eyes narrowed, then eased, and something in his face changed.
"Most people who come for refuge here are running from something or someone," he said gently. "This place is meant to be a chance for people to remake their lives. I will not tolerate law breakers for long, but people who have paid their price and wish to change are allowed. Many of those here are reformed criminals of some sort, who do not wish to repeat their life experiences." He offered his hand to Obi-Wan. "What is it you are running from?"
Obi-Wan took it, and then found he couldn't let go. "I... In the organization I belong to, I made... a bad choice." He didn't want to think about what he'd done. "I am not answerable to the law," he added suddenly. "But there will be repercussions I am not yet willing to face."
The man held his gaze, and Obi-Wan got the impression he'd been measured by something, somehow, in a way he couldn't sense. Then the man smiled and released him. "Please, Bennet, sit down," he said, and gestured to the chair behind him. With a sigh, Obi-Wan sank into it, wondering if the use of his new name meant he'd been accepted. "My name is Ad'lai. I have set up this monastery for people like you, who wish to get away from their identity, to make a new start. I have not had a very auspicious career, and when I wished to somehow erase my past, I found that it was nearly impossible to do without help. So I started this place. Beings come to me to learn useful skills, to learn to be something other than they were. I have seen rebels, criminals, thieves and others working next to poor farmers who sold all they had to come here and learn other skills, skills that might get them better working conditions and better lives. Some come and never leave; some leave only to find those they believe I can help, like Thane and Genie. In exchange for learning new skills, I ask only that those who petition for entrance help out here, in the gardens, the kitchen, wherever they wish. There will be a dorm for you to sleep in, if you still wish to stay. If you wish to join the Monastery after a year, you will be inducted, given a private room and heavier duties.
"It is of utmost importance that you ask no questions of anyone's past. They will respect your wish to keep your past secret as well. When you leave this office, you will receive clothes and will be able to sign up for the duty roster. The duties change every two weeks, so if you find something you don't like or something you wish to try, simply sign up for the next shift. The clothes help to keep anonymity, and help in allowing people to change. We have found that it is hard to judge someone by their clothes when everyone wears the same thing. A lack of judgement - a lack of expectation that someone act a certain way because of his dress - is paramount to allowing someone to change." He leaned back in his chair. "You are young," he said. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"Your parents?"
Obi-Wan's forehead wrinkled. "I thought no one would ask about my past," he said slowly.
Ad'lai grinned. "You're fast." He sighed, and his face grew serious again. "It is a question of legality," he said plainly. "You are too young to be on your own in some systems. Some would suggest that you should return home, wherever home is."
For a tense moment, Obi-Wan thought frantically about what he'd say. Finally, he decided on the truth. "I have not lived with my parents since before my first birthday."
Ad'lai nodded. "You have a caretaker?"
"My trouble is with him," Obi-Wan said quickly. "I am apprenticed."
"I see." He paused. "If anyone questions your right to be here, send them to me." He paused after a moment. "Where is your home planet?" he asked gently.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Why?"
"I need to do at least some kind of background check on you. Where were you apprenticed?"
Obi-Wan hesitated for a moment. "Coruscant." He hoped that the request wouldn't alert the Jedi; that would be disastrous. He'd be found in an instant.
"I will make discrete inquiries," Ad'lai told him. "If I find you have lied, I will not turn you in, but you will not be allowed to stay. Is that fair?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
Ad'lai touched a button on his chair, and a young woman stepped into the room through the door he'd come in through. She was taller than Obi-Wan, but blue skinned with green eyes he'd only seen in his Master's friend Tahl. She wore a dark blue tunic and skirt, much like Genie had. "Abebi, please show Bennet the duty roster, get him clothing and take him to housing. They will set you up with a place to live for the time you are here."
Obi-Wan bowed. "Thank you, Ad'lai. I will strive to do your house proud."
Both of them regarded him in surprise, then Abebi laughed and took his arm. "Come on," she said, and pulled him back through the reception room and into the hallway. In no time, he was set up in a bunk in a large dorm and given a light blue tunic and black pants to wear. "You'll want to return those to me," the woman behind the counter said, indicating his clothes. "I'll put your name on them, but if you stay long, I doubt they'll fit well. You look like you're in the middle of a growth spurt."
He nodded, a little bewildered, and took the bag she gave him to return his ‘civilian' clothes to her.
"Next is the duty roster," Abebi said, and pulled him onward.
This was where he ran into his first problem. The steward who watched over the duty roster was a Coelli, a small, nervous being who reminded Obi-Wan of his friend Bant, but only distantly. He was covered with iridescent green scales except on his face, which was smooth and a pale blue. "I can't add him," he said flatly. Abebi balled up her fists.
"Ad'lai said to add him," she said just as flatly. Obi-Wan regarded her with surprise as she fought to calm down. She glanced at him with an apologetic look. "Sorry," she said, both to him and the Coelli.
"When is the next rotation?" Obi-Wan asked before the Coelli could respond.
"In a week."
"That's fine," Obi-Wan said. "I'll join then. I would like some time to myself anyway. Will that work okay?" he asked, turning to Abebi.
She considered, then nodded. "Yes, I think so."
The Coelli smiled, showing sharply pointed teeth. "What would you like to help with?"
It took only moments to work out a schedule; he would be helping with breakfast in the mornings, working in the garage until lunch, then in the garden. His afternoons, at least for a while, were free. Thanking the Coelli, he and Abebi continued on to locate his bunk and the fresher he'd use. She left him in the dorm, and he sank thankfully into the chair at a small table situated near his sleep couch which was not, as he'd envisioned, one of a two level bunk bed. Sleep couches, with accompanying desks and chairs lined the walls, five on each side. It looked nice. A door on the other end of the room made him wonder if there were more rooms on the other side.
His legs ached. But he remained there only a moment before slipping off the chair to kneel on the floor. Before long, he was oblivious to the world and the people moving around him, meditating on the peace he had not been able to find since his first panicked flight from the Temple training room.
The monastery at Bel-Meridah was exactly what Obi-Wan - Ben, now - needed. The first morning he went into the commissary for breakfast, then returned to his sleep couch to meditate. There was a lot for him to think on, although he avoided all thoughts of the battle with his Master, the one that had gotten out of hand and he'd....
He wrenched his thoughts away, turning them to where he was now, looking for a chance for peace. It was slow in coming. He spent most of each day in meditation, stopping only to eat and sleep.
The beginning of the next week was harder than he'd thought. After two hellish days of being scattered, unable to concentrate and in a bad mood, he woke earlier than usual and took time for his meditation. He figured it couldn't hurt to try that, because he didn't like his attitude and outlook on life. It was just too foreign to him. To his surprise, the connection with the Force made everything change. After seven solid days of meditation, he couldn't just stop and assume everything would be fine. His whole outlook changed that day, and he began to notice what went on around him.
Breakfast preparation was a hectic affair, but so well coordinated that it was rare anything went wrong. Much of the time was spent making sure dishes were clean, food prepared and set up in a buffet style so that the people in the monastery would be able to choose what they wanted to eat. Today, unlike the days before, he fell into the dance of preparation with an easy grace that had the other workers laughing at the change in him. But it was the kind of laugh he remembered from the Temple, where he was included and welcomed, not mocked, at least for the most part. Once he was done there - after a very satisfying breakfast for himself - he headed for the garage.
The vehicles there were mostly run-down, second-hand deals, but they did serve their purpose. Most of them seemed to be used for short trips into town for shopping or for errands, but he thought he heard someone talking at breakfast about taking one of the speeders out into the country, just to get away. For the first time, he saw a vehicle he didn't recognize, one that hadn't been there the day before. Slowly, he walked around it, trying to figure out what it was for.
"It's a plow," a woman's voice said, and he spun, startled.
"A what?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. She was human, dark haired, and dressed in the same dark blue as most of the others. She hadn't been there the day before, either. "Anonymity only goes so far. City boy?"
"Yes."
"It's a plow. Turns the soil over, mixes in what was left after the harvest, breaks it up so that it's easier to plant, and easier for the seeds to sprout." She tilted her head. "You must be Bennet."
"Ben," he said. "Yes. And you are?"
"Neura," she said. "How good are you at repairing things?"
He chuckled, remembering the first transport he'd tried his skills on. "Not very," he said. "But I learn fast." The last two days he'd been told to wash some of the dirtier vehicles, a job that had suited his skills and his temperament.
"Good." She called out a name he didn't catch, and a thick green Rodian soon joined them. "This is Ben," she said. "This is Pacorro. He'll help you get to know everything better." Her head tilted and she stared at him, then shook her head and grinned. "He's a good teacher."
"Then I will learn well. Thank you."
She shook her head again with a chuckle, and turned her attention to the plow.
Ben followed Pacorro over to the run-down speeder he was working on. Taking a deep breath, Ben knelt next to him and paid attention as the Rodian explained what he was doing.
He ate lunch in a state of happy exhaustion, and took Neura's advice, returning to his sleep couch for a short nap before heading outside to the gardens. He joined about ten others at one end of a field that grew something he didn't recognize, but with the supervisor's help, he was soon able to tell which was the crop they were growing and which was weed. He worked along the row, falling into a light meditative trance as he listened to the conversation around him. He'd given only non-committal comments to their attempts at conversation, wanting to be left alone right now. It was strange, but he could feel the living Force around him stronger now, and he could understand his Master's pull to it. It was relaxing, quieting, and he let it lull him into the peace he was looking for, even if it ended when the supervisor tapped his shoulder and told him he was done for the day. He decided, as he headed inside, that ignoring the others he was working with was rude.
The rest of the afternoon was his to do what he wanted to, and he took the time to explore for the two hours before dinner. He stayed within the walls, although he knew he could leave, and walked through the flower gardens, lush with foliage. Here, too, he could relax and feel the Force around him. He found a place to sit, a small stone bench, and stared at a small waterfall that ran through patches of roses and other flowers that added to the beauty of the spot. He stared into the sparkling water, flowing over rocks that glittered in the sunlight. It was so much like one of the Meditation gardens, one Qui-Gon always enjoyed.
It hit him, then, what had happened, and the first sob was almost a gasp for breath. Obi-Wan slid off the bench desperately, trying to find the peace in meditation, but it wouldn't come and he sobbed for what he'd lost, for what he'd done.
Finally, it let him go, and he took a deep, shaking breath. He breathed again, letting the tension flow out of him, releasing it into the Force. There. That was the end of it; his past life was gone, grieved for, and he could move past it now. His breathing hitched and he amended that thought. He knew better. There would be so much more, but if he hadn't let the darkness.... He caught himself before the tears started again, closing his eyes against the memory of his Master's face, the look of betrayal in his eyes. Obi-Wan turned his face away, letting his grief go. Slowly, his breathing evened out, tears stopped pressing his eyes, and he let himself go deeper into a meditative trance, calming himself in the warmth of the sun and of the Force. As long as he had the Force, he thought he'd be okay. It would take a while, but he'd be okay.
Three days later, he stopped in his weeding and laughed, a joyous laugh that caused everyone else to look at him with confused expressions. "Sorry," he said, but couldn't keep his mirth contained. He'd become a farmer. He'd told Bant he'd become one, before Qui-Gon had chosen him as an apprentice and his dreams had leapt back to life. Here he was, a farmer. Yoda would have appreciated the irony.
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