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The dungeon beneath Governor Malthorn's palace was not the worst Obi-Wan had been a guest in. It was made of ancient stone walls (that had probably held prisoners for centuries) upgraded and fitted with modern ray shields that hummed with energy. The air was thick with moisture and the Force was heavy with the fear from the countless previous occupants.
Qui-Gon Jinn sat crosslegged on the damp stone floor, his long hair slightly disheveled but his expression serene. Across from him, Obi-Wan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking significantly less ‘zen’ about their current predicament.
"I believe," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully, "that once Governor Malthorn has had time to consider our proposals, he will see the wisdom in allowing peaceful opposition voices in his government."
Obi-Wan's left eye twitched. "Master, it was your proposals that got us into this mess in the first place."
"Indeed," Qui-Gon replied with unshakeable calm, "so they should be able to get us out, no?"
Obi-Wan barely managed to suppress his groan, instead settling for running a hand through his hair. "Right. Of course. How silly of me to doubt the plan of my great and wise master that resulted in us being thrown into a dungeon for suggesting that maybe, just maybe, the Governor's political opponents shouldn't be defenestrated quite so frequently." He took a deep breath, centering himself. "The accommodations could certainly be better," Obi-Wan muttered, eyeing the moldy straw in the corner with distaste.
"I have to agree," came a voice from the shadows beyond their cell. "The décor is rather lacking. Though I've seen worse."
Both Jedi straightened, immediately alert. The voice was cultured, with a slight accent that seemed almost familiar to Obi-Wan, though he couldn't place it. Through the cell’s ray shield, they saw robed figures with lightsabers on their belts.
"Ah," Qui-Gon said, sounding pleasantly surprised, "I didn't realize the Council would dispatch a rescue team quite this quickly. But we thank you for your assistance."
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. They’d only been in the cell for a few hours, far too soon for the council to have dispatched a rescue team. Far too soon for the council to know they needed a rescue, even.
"Ah, of course," the voice replied. "Jedi should always help their brethren." The ray shield flickered and died with a sharp crack, and the figures emerged from the shadows.
The first was a man in simple brown robes with his hood pulled up, obscuring most of his face. Behind him came three others, a middle-aged Zabrak woman with graying temples, a young human man who looked barely out of his teens, and a Twi'lek male who appeared to be in his forties.
"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi," the hooded figure said with a slight bow. "I am Ben, and these are my companions. Let’s get you out of here."
Qui-Gon rose gracefully to his feet. "We are grateful for your assistance, Master...?"
"Just Ben is fine," the figure replied, his voice carrying what Qui-Gon thought was an accent that did not quite ring true. "And we should move quickly. The Governor's guards may have noticed our entrance by now."
As they began to move through the corridor, Obi-Wan found himself studying their rescuers and their dynamics. The three others clearly deferred to Ben, calling him Master, but the Zabrak woman looked far too old to be a Padawan, and the Twi'lek moved with the confidence of someone who'd been fighting for decades.
"Master Ben," Obi-Wan said carefully, "forgive me, but you seem rather... young to have trained such experienced Jedi." While he hadn’t been able to get a clear view of the master’s face, he felt young and his hands gripping his saber hilt were unmarred by age.
Ben's step faltered almost imperceptibly. "Age is but a number, Padawan. Much like size matters not, does age?"
The young human, who'd introduced himself as Kael, piped up cheerfully. "Master Ben's been training me for only a few weeks, but he's already taught me more than I learned in years on my own."
"Years on your own?" Qui-Gon asked, his interest clearly piqued.
"I was a slave until recently," Kael explained matter-of-factly. "Master Ben freed me and discovered I was Force-sensitive. He says the Force doesn't care about your background, only what you do with its gifts."
Obi-Wan noticed how Ben's shoulders tensed slightly at the casual mention of his philosophy, but before he could comment, the sound of running feet echoed from ahead of them. Qui-Gon wandered away to the evidence chest while the rest of the group made ready.
"Guards," hissed the Zabrak woman, Bira, she'd said her name was.
Ben held up a hand for silence, then gestured for them to follow him down a side passage. As they crept along, Obi-Wan caught sight of Ben's profile in the dim light filtering through a grate above.
The resemblance to his own was... unsettling.
"Master Ben," Obi-Wan whispered as they paused at an intersection, "has anyone ever told you that you look remarkably like—"
"No," Ben interrupted quickly, pulling his hood further down. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
But Obi-Wan had caught enough of a glimpse to be certain. (And the amusements of his companions could easily be felt in the Force.) The man looked almost exactly like him. The same eyes, the same bone structure, even the same way of holding his shoulders when he was trying to be inconspicuous. Qui-Gon had come back and handed his lightsaber to Obi-Wan, his own clipped on his belt.
"It's just that the resemblance is quite striking," Obi-Wan continued, his voice carefully neutral. "Are you perhaps from Stewjon? I understand there are certain genetic markers common to—"
"We really should focus on the moment, Padawan, getting out of here is our top priority," Ben said, his voice pitched slightly higher than before and his accent slipped and sounded very much like Obi-Wan’s own for a moment.
The Twi'lek, who'd introduced himself as Jorik, gave Ben an almost too innocent look. "You seem tense, Master. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Ben muttered, somehow managing to pull his hood even lower while simultaneously trying to turn away from Obi-Wan. The effect was rather like watching someone attempt to hide behind a curtain that was too small for them.
Qui-Gon was watching this exchange with growing amusement. "Master Ben, I must say, your stealth techniques are quite... unique."
"I'm being stealthy," Ben protested, at which point he promptly walked into a wall.
Obi-Wan stared. "Are you sure you’re all right?"
"Perfect," Ben said, his voice now muffled by the fact that his hood had somehow gotten twisted around his head. "Everything is perfectly normal. Nothing unusual is happening here."
Bira sighed. "Master Ben, perhaps you should—"
"No, no," Ben said firmly, finally managing to straighten his hood. Obi-Wan heard a deep sigh from the master. "This is... this is fine. We're all fine."
The sound of approaching guards grew louder, and Kael shifted nervously. "Um, Master? Should we perhaps focus on the escape now and work on your... stealth... later?"
Ben straightened, seeming to remember where they were. "Right. Yes. This way."
He led them confidently toward what appeared to be a dead end, then placed his hand on the wall. A section of stone swung inward, revealing a narrow passage.
"Servant's passage," Ben explained, his composure returning now that he had something concrete to do. "Almost every palace has them. Most forget they exist. Out of sight, out of mind." Obi-Wan couldn’t help but wonder how the master knew exactly where the entrance was.
They walked up several staircases and through various hidden and dusty halls and emerged into a storage room filled with cleaning supplies and spare furnishings. Ben moved to the window and peered out carefully.
"The coast is clear," he reported. "The Governor's guards are searching the lower levels. We can make it to the landing platform from here."
"Excellent," Qui-Gon said warmly. "We are truly grateful for your assistance, Master Ben. Though I must admit, I'm curious about your... mandate. You clearly know this palace quite well."
Ben was quiet for a moment, his hand resting on the window frame. "I make it my business to know the places where people are imprisoned unjustly."
There was something in his tone that made both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan take notice, a weight that seemed too heavy for someone who looked so young but felt older.
"A noble goal," Qui-Gon said gently.
"The Force calls us to serve justice after all,” Ben replied simply.
Obi-Wan blinked, struck at the way Ben said it, with such certainty, as if there was no doubting it. Maybe there wasn’t. It reminded him of something. Some half-remembered lesson or moment of clarity just beyond his memory’s reach.
"Right," Ben said, shaking himself back to the present. "Let’s get you to the transport first, we can discuss philosophy later."
As they prepared to leave, Obi-Wan caught one more glimpse of Ben's profile in the afternoon light streaming through the window. The resemblance was even more pronounced now that they were in the light, and he was beginning to suspect that "coincidence" didn't begin to cover it.
"Master Ben," he said carefully, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to lower your hood? I'm quite curious about–"
"No, no," Ben said quickly, yanking his hood forward so far it nearly covered his entire face. "Hood stays up. Very... very up."
Kael tilted his head, a little grin on his lips. Obi-Wan wished he knew what was so funny.. "But Master, it's not even that sunny on this world–"
"The. Hood. Stays. Up."
The emphatic declaration was somewhat undermined by the fact that Ben had to push the hood back slightly so he could actually see where he was going.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged another glance, Obi-Wan was confused, but Qui-Gon just looked amused. Whatever was going on here, it was far more complicated (and interesting) than a simple rescue mission.
Ben led them through a series of corridors with ease, clearly knowing the layout better than most of the guards or feeling the rightness of his path in the Force.
"Left here," Ben whispered, gesturing down a narrow passage. " This way. Watch your step."
They emerged into the palace gardens, where the perpetual gray haze of Kira IV's polluted atmosphere cast everything in muted tones. The plants here were hardy varieties that thrived in the industrial runoff, their leaves a dull gray-green that matched the overcast sky.
"Stay close," Ben instructed, moving with practiced stealth through the ornamental hedges. "Security sweeps every ten minutes through this section."
Kael, the young padawan, stayed close to Ben's side, watching his master's movements with obvious admiration. "Master Ben, should I create a distraction if we encounter guards?"
"Only if necessary," Ben replied, his voice taking on a teaching tone even in their precarious situation. "Sometimes the best action is no action. Feel through the Force, what do you sense?"
The boy closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a small smile. "The guards are... bored. And tired. They're not expecting trouble."
"Exactly," Ben said warmly. "So we move quietly and let them continue to not expect trouble."
Qui-Gon found himself impressed despite his confusion. Ben's teaching method was practical and immediate, grounding Force use in real-world application. It reminded him of... well, of how he might teach, if he had to train a new padawan in the middle of a rescue mission. (Which funnily enough he had done more than once.)
As they moved through the gardens, Ben occasionally held up a hand to signal stops, his head tilted in concentration. Each time, guards would pass by moments later, completely unaware of their presence. His timing was impeccable, his awareness of their surroundings almost absolute. Despite the quick views of a young face, this was an experienced Jedi.
"There," Ben said softly, pointing toward a gap in the palace wall. "The old gate. It leads directly to the merchant district."
But as they approached the gate, Ben's hood snagged on a low branch. This time, it slipped back completely, revealing his face in profile as he turned to check on the group.
Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stopped dead.
The resemblance wasn't just striking, it was impossible. Ben looked exactly like Obi-Wan, with the same features. The only difference was the eye, Ben’s seemed weathered, perhaps by experience or responsibility. But there was something else, something that made Qui-Gon's chest tighten with recognition.
Ben frantically pulled his hood back up, as his Padawans snickered next to them.
"Is everything... are you both all right?" Ben asked, his voice muffled by the fabric.
"Fine," Obi-Wan said faintly. "Just... fine."
Qui-Gon was studying Ben intensely, as if trying to solve a particularly complex puzzle. The way he moved, the cadence of his speech, even the slight gesture he made with his left hand when he was thinking, it was all very, very familiar, like an echo of someone he knew all too well.
But that was impossible.
"Master Ben," Bira said gently, "perhaps you should adjust your hood. You appear to be having difficulty seeing."
"I can see perfectly," Ben protested, walking directly into the gate. “The Force provides, etc. etc.”
Jorik sighed. "Master, with respect, you're going to give us all away if you keep this up."
"I'm being very subtle," Ben insisted, feeling along the wall for the gate latch while his hood covered his eyes entirely.
Kael looked between Ben and their guests with growing understanding. "Oh," he said quietly. "Is this because he looks like–"
"Nope!" Ben said quickly, finally finding the latch. "He looks like no one… Other than a completely ordinary being I've never seen before!"
The gate swung open to reveal the merchant district beyond, where the gray haze hung heavier between the buildings. The air carried the scent of industrial processing and the bustle of commerce, muted by the perpetual overcast.
They moved through the winding streets easily, Ben's group clearly familiar with the layout. Ben navigated unerringly toward the spaceport through backroads, pausing occasionally to let speeder traffic pass or to avoid security patrols.
"Stay together," Ben instructed as they approached the spaceport district. "Tourist groups are not uncommon here. We'll blend in."
"Tourist groups don't usually include hooded figures trying to hide their faces," Obi-Wan pointed out.
"Some do," Ben replied defensively. "Religious pilgrims. Fashion statements. Protection from the sun."
"Master Ben," Qui-Gon said carefully, "the sun hasn't been visible through the cloud cover for days."
Ben paused. "It keeps the smog out of my hair?"
Even Kael looked skeptical at that one.
They reached the landing platform where Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's ship waited, its hull bearing the distinctive markings of the Jedi Order. Ben's own transport was docked nearby (a modest freighter that had seen better days but was well-maintained.)
"Well," Qui-Gon said, turning to their rescuers, "we cannot thank you enough for your assistance. Your timing was fortunate indeed."
"It was nothing," Ben replied, though his voice carried a weight that suggested otherwise. "We couldn't leave fellow Jedi in such circumstances."
"Still," Qui-Gon pressed, "you took considerable risk to help strangers. That speaks to your character."
Ben was quiet for a moment, his hooded head tilted slightly. When he spoke, his voice was softer, more thoughtful. "I've learned that... that we have to act when we see suffering. Not because it's convenient, or because it fits our mission parameters, or because the Council or Senate has approved it. We act because it's right." There was something in his tone that made both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan pay more attention to the words. "Sometimes," Ben continued, "the most important thing we can do is be there when someone needs help. Even if, especially if, no one else may be coming."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with conviction and what sounded like it came from experience.
"You speak as one who has seen much," Qui-Gon observed gently. “And three padawans is a lot of any master.” He glanced at Obi-Wan, a small smile on his face. “Some days one is too much.”
Obi-Wan harrumphed at his master and Ben smiled. “I have seen much. I have done many things, helped break many chains. But that's what the Force asks of us, isn't it? To be present for suffering, to act when action is needed." He paused. “And who are we to restrict our knowledge from those who thirst for it? From those who could go on to help so many more?”
Qui-Gon smiled. “I’ve been called a maverick before, Master Ben, and I do not disagree with you. I can’t imagine your path has been easy.”
“It has not been easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.” He gestured toward his companions. "These are good people. All my students have been. They deserved freedom, deserved the chance to grow in their connections to the Force. The Temple’s strictures might have said they were too old to learn, too set in their ways, too damaged by their experiences. But the Force doesn't care about our arbitrary rules. The Force is."
Obi-Wan found himself deeply moved by the quiet passion in Ben's voice. "Your approach is... unconventional."
"Unconventional times require unconventional solutions," Ben replied. "The galaxy is full of people who need help, and there aren't enough of us to wait for permission."
Ben straightened and pulled at his hood to make sure it was still covering his face. "But you have your own mission to complete, I'm sure. Don't let us delay you."
"Indeed," Qui-Gon said, though his curiosity was clearly far from satisfied. "I hope our paths cross again, Master Ben. I would very much like to continue this conversation."
Ben's hood turned slightly, as if he was looking directly at Qui-Gon, though his face remained mostly hidden. "Oh," he said quietly, with a strange certainty, "I think we'll see each other again before too long."
Something in his tone made both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchange glances. It wasn't a hope or a pleasantry, it was a statement of fact.
"Until then," Ben continued, bowing, "may the Force be with you both."
"And with you," Qui-Gon replied, bowing formally.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood watching as the group retreated.
"Master," Obi-Wan said quietly, "did you notice—"
"That he looked almost exactly like you?" Qui-Gon finished. "Yes, Padawan. It was hard not to."
"And the way he moved, the way he spoke..."
"As if he knew us," Qui-Gon agreed.
They watched as Ben's group left the platform, both lost in thought.
"Master," Obi-Wan said finally, "what do you think—"
"I think," Qui-Gon interrupted gently, "that we have encountered something far more complex than we can understand at this moment. I suspect that Master Ben’s prediction about seeing us again may prove quite accurate."
Once Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's ship had departed, Ben's companions gathered around him on the landing pad of their own ship. They weren’t ready to leave quite yet. They still had a mission to accomplish. Kael was the first to speak, his young face bright with barely contained laughter.
"Master Ben," he said solemnly, "that was possibly the worst attempt at stealth I've ever witnessed."
"I was being subtle," Ben protested, finally lowering his hood properly.
"You walked into the wall at one point," Bira pointed out, though her tone was affectionate.
"And tried to convince them you were vain enough to protect your hair from the smog." Jorik added.
"From a certain point of view…," Ben said defensively.
"Master," Kael said, his expression growing more serious, "I think we all understand why you didn’t want them to see your face. That padawan looked exactly like you. Is he your brother or something?"
Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze distant. "It's... complicated, Kael. Sometimes the Force puts us in situations where the simple truth would cause more harm than good. And we were in a bit of a hurry. Should we have been discussing my shared good looks with Padawan Kenobi while trying to escape a dungeon?"
"But they looked so confused," the young padawan continued. "Especially the Padawan. He kept staring at you like he was trying to solve a puzzle."
Ben's expression grew wistful. "Perhaps someday, when the time is right, that puzzle will be solved. But not today."
"Well," Bira said practically, "next time you want to maintain a mysterious identity, perhaps we should work on your techniques."
"Or invest in a better hood," Jorik suggested. "The Force did not seem to be on its side.”
Ben couldn't help but smile at their teasing. "I'll take that under advisement."
Ben stood looking up at the sky, watching the ship fly from the gray landscape of Kira IV. Somewhere up there, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were having their own conversation about the encounter. "Soon," he murmured to himself, thinking of the future his past self had already lived. "Very soon."
The Jedi Council Chamber felt unusually tense as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood before the assembled Masters. The late afternoon light of Coruscant filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Mace Windu leaned forward in his chair, his expression thoughtful as he processed their report.
“...and that’s why we were unable to finish our mission,” Qui-Gon said, retelling of their adventure.
“Indeed?” Yoda said. “Deposed, Governor Malthorn has been. Planned for next month, democratic elections are. Thankful for the Jedi aid, the provisional government is.”
Obi-Wan glanced at his master who was also rather befuddled. They hadn’t left the world with a complete mission. Their mandate wasn’t even regime change. And yet…
"Indeed. Not what we expected when we dispatched you, but not a bad result. We do have some questions. We have been trying to meet with this Master Ben for several years. We knew he was a teacher," Mace said, "And he had several students with him?"
"Indeed," Qui-Gon replied, his tone measured. "Including several who appeared older than him. They all called him Master Ben, and showed him clear deference and respect."
"Hmm," Yoda interjected, his gimer stick tapping against the floor. "Tell us about him, what can you?"
Qui-Gon straightened, choosing his words carefully. "He was... unconventional, Masters. His approach to the Force and to teaching was grounded. He spoke of acting when we see suffering, regardless of whether it fits our mission parameters or if the Council approves."
Ki-Adi-Mundi's expression contemplative. "That sounds like the hedge Jedi we've meet and been hearing about."
"His actions were those of a true Jedi.” Qui-Gon said. “He risked himself and his students to rescue strangers, asking for nothing in return. His students showed remarkable skill and discipline despite that it felt like they had not been together for too long.."
Beside him, Obi-Wan remained silent, his expression troubled. The young Padawan was clearly wrestling with what they'd witnessed, torn between his respect for tradition and the undeniable effectiveness of Ben's methods.
"Busy, this Ben has been," Yoda observed. "But alone, he is not. Encountered Master Fay on Barolgo, Master Sinube did. Several padawans with her, there were."
Qui-Gon’s face lit with interest. "What did Master Sinube report?"
"Skilled in healing, they were," Yoda continued. "Felt like Jedi, they did, to Tera. Inspire her actions, Master Ben had."
"Inspired her how?" Qui-Gon asked.
Yoda's ears drooped slightly, a sign of deep thought. He looked across the chamber and gave a slow, deliberate nod to Master Windu.
Mace, who had the report open on his datapad, spoke, his voice filling the silence. "She said: 'The teachings of the Jedi are to serve the Will of the Force. It’s been a long time since I felt the Force’s will so clearly. It’s saying to grow.'"
Qui-Gon's face lit up with obvious approval. "I see that Master Fay is still as wise as the last time I met her."
Oppo Rancisis made a sound that might have been amusement. (Or maybe a bit of derision.) "You would approve of such sentiment, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon simply smiled serenely, unabashed. "I find wisdom in recognizing that the Force is larger than what we can see from Coruscant, yes."
The Council was clearly divided, some of the Masters looked annoyed by Qui-Gon's obvious enthusiasm for these unorthodox methods, while the other half seemed amused and intrigued.
"Is there anything else you wish to report?" Mace asked, clearly hoping to move the discussion toward a conclusion.
Qui-Gon bowed slightly. "No, Masters."
But as they prepared to leave, Obi-Wan suddenly spoke up. "Masters, if I may, there is one more thing."
The Council's attention focused on the young Padawan, who seemed to be gathering his courage.
"Master Ben did not want us to see his face," Obi-Wan said, his voice careful and measured. "He kept his hood up the entire time we were with him, even when it clearly hindered his movement."
"Hmm," Yoda mused. "Hidden, you think he wished to remain?"
"I’m not sure, Master," Obi-Wan admitted. "But I could feel... something. He was not subtle about it, quite the opposite, actually. He even walked into a wall trying to keep his face hidden."
"Walked into walls?" Adi Gallia asked, a note of amusement in her voice.
Obi-Wan's cheeks colored slightly. "Yes, Master."
Several Council members exchanged glances, some clearly fighting back smiles.
"Yet despite this apparent clumsiness," Obi-Wan continued, "he moved with complete confidence and skill when actually leading us to safety. It was as if he was only awkward when trying to hide his identity."
"Curious, this is," Yoda said thoughtfully. "But matter, what he looks like, it does not. Judge him by his actions, we will."
"Indeed," Mace agreed. "His appearance is less important than his methods and their effects. These hedge Jedi have been operating in the Outer Rim for some time now. They've liberated slaves, fought injustice, and spread knowledge of the Force and the Jedi Path. While their methods are unorthodox, their intentions appear aligned with ours."
"Their results speak for themselves," Plo Koon added. "Perhaps we should consider that the Force may be working through them in ways we don't fully understand."
"That could be dangerous thinking," Even Piell warned. "If we begin accepting any who claim to serve the Force are a Jedi–"
"But we're not talking about just anyone," Depa interjected. "These are skilled Force-users who demonstrate wisdom, compassion, and selflessness. Perhaps the Force is telling us that our methods aren't the only way to walk the Jedi Path."
The debate might have continued, but Yoda raised his gimer stick, calling for silence.
"Much to consider, there is," he said finally. "Wait and see, we will. But open to new understanding, we must remain. Changed, the galaxy has, in recent years. Change with it, we must, or fail in our service to the Force, we will."
As the Council session concluded, Obi-Wan found himself still thinking about the hooded figure who had rescued them. He wished the Council had allowed him to speak a little more. As they left the Council Chamber, Obi-Wan said, “I didn’t even get to tell them he looked like me.”
Qui-Gon laughed lightly. He was always buoyant when he made it out of a council meeting without any reprimands. “Don’t worry too much, my dear Padawan. As Master Yoda said, it doesn’t matter what Master Ben looks like.” He had a sly grin on his face. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out once they meet him.”
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and smiled at his master and they walked back towards their shared quarters, enjoying being home.