Chapter 3: The Jedi Arrive
POV: Kael Vorn
The apartment door opened before Kael could reach for the control panel.
Two figures waited in his cramped living room like judgment incarnate. Obi-Wan Kenobi sat on the threadbare couch with perfect posture, fingers steepled in meditation pose, as if spending the night in a lower-level hovel was perfectly normal. Anakin Skywalker leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, the dull gleam of his mechanical hand catching what little light filtered through the dirty windows.
Both wore expressions of polite curiosity that didn't reach their eyes.
"Kael Vorn, I presume?"
Obi-Wan's voice carried the refined accent of Coruscant's upper levels, each word precisely articulated. The sound hit Kael like a physical blow. This was Obi-Wan Kenobi. The Negotiator. The man who would watch the Republic burn and the Jedi fall and never see it coming.
"They found me. Of course they found me."
"We have questions."
Kael's mouth went dry. The Force Sense flickered around both Jedi—Obi-Wan's presence steady and controlled like candlelight in still air, Anakin's more chaotic, a bonfire barely contained behind mental barriers. Power radiated from them both, disciplined and ancient and absolutely terrifying.
[FORCE SIGNATURES DETECTED]
[OBI-WAN KENOBI: HIGH COUNCIL MEMBER, LIGHT-ALIGNED 89%, SORESU MASTER]
[ANAKIN SKYWALKER: JEDI KNIGHT, LIGHT-ALIGNED 71%, DJEM SO SPECIALIST, EMOTIONAL VOLATILITY DETECTED]
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME]
"How did you—" Kael's voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "How did you find me?"
Anakin's grin was sharp as a vibroblade. "Funny thing about untrained Force-users. They tend to leave impressions. Especially when they put three smugglers through a wall."
"The disturbance was quite distinctive," Obi-Wan added, rising from the couch with fluid grace. "May we sit? This conversation may take some time."
It wasn't really a request. Kael gestured weakly toward the apartment's only chair while claiming the edge of his sleeping cot. The domesticity of the arrangement felt surreal—two legendary Jedi having tea time in a garbage-level apartment.
"Let's start with the basics," Obi-Wan said. "Who trained you?"
"Nobody. I learned from watching a TV show about your lives."
"I'm self-taught."
Technically true. The System had given him basic knowledge, but he'd figured out how to use it through trial and error. Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose slightly.
"Self-taught. Remarkable. And where did you study these... techniques?"
"Meditation mostly. Instinct. The Force seems to guide me toward what I need to know."
Also technically true, though the System was hardly what most people would call 'the Force.' Anakin straightened from his position against the wall.
"Those smugglers said you threatened them first. Care to explain that?"
Kael's hands clenched into fists. The memory of Grakus's filed teeth and the vibroblade's hum made his pulse quicken. Fear and frustration swirled in his chest—fear of these interrogators, frustration at his inability to explain himself properly.
"They cornered me. Demanded protection money. I tried to de-escalate, but when that failed—"
The words tangled in his throat as he tried to add context, tried to explain that he knew the war was placing impossible strain on the Jedi Order, that he understood why they were suspicious of unknown Force-users during such desperate times.
"I know the sparkly wizards are stretched thin with the dancing bantha circus!"
Silence crashed over the room like a broken hyperdrive. Anakin and Obi-Wan exchanged a look that could have powered a star destroyer.
"Is he drugged?" Anakin muttered.
Obi-Wan's hand drifted toward his lightsaber, the movement so subtle Kael almost missed it. "That's... an interesting way to phrase it."
"Perfect. They think I'm either insane or on spice."
[META-KNOWLEDGE COMMUNICATION BLOCKED]
[TIMELINE INTEGRITY PROTECTION ACTIVE]
[COGNITIVE DISSONANCE DETECTED IN SUBJECT]
"I'm sorry," Kael said quickly. "I sometimes have trouble with words when I'm nervous. What I meant was—"
"Demonstrate your abilities," Obi-Wan interrupted, clearly deciding that actions might speak more clearly than Kael's apparently addled words. "Slowly. Nothing aggressive."
Relief flooded through Kael. This he could do without triggering the cosmic gag order. He gestured toward Obi-Wan's comlink, extending his senses toward the small device. The Force flowed through him like liquid starlight, silver-gray energy wreathing his fingers as he lifted the communicator with perfect control.
The device rose smoothly, rotated through a complex series of patterns—figure-eights, spirals, precise geometric shapes—before settling gently back into Obi-Wan's palm. Kael's aura pulsed steadily throughout the demonstration, neither Light nor Dark but something balanced between them.
"Interesting." Obi-Wan studied the comlink as if it might provide answers. "Your technique is... unorthodox. And your Force signature is unlike any I've encountered."
The Jedi Master reached into his utility belt and withdrew a handheld scanner, the kind used to measure midi-chlorian counts in potential Padawans. He activated the device and gestured for Kael to extend his hand.
"If you would."
Kael hesitated. In the films, these scanners had read Anakin's count as 'off the charts.' What would they make of someone who technically didn't belong in this universe at all?
The scanner hummed against his palm, lights flickering across its display. Then the screen went blank.
[ERROR: READING OUT OF VALID RANGE]
Obi-Wan frowned and tried again. Same result. On the third attempt, Anakin leaned over to peer at the device.
"Maybe he broke it?"
But Obi-Wan's expression had turned deeply troubled. He deactivated the scanner and tucked it away, his movements precise and controlled in the way of someone working very hard not to appear alarmed.
"The Council will want to meet you."
Kael's stomach plummeted toward the planet's core. The Jedi Council. Twelve of the most powerful Force-users in the galaxy, led by Yoda himself. They'd want explanations he couldn't give, demonstrations of knowledge he couldn't share. They'd poke and prod at his mind until they found the truth he had to keep hidden.
"Your power is considerable but clearly lacks proper training," Obi-Wan continued. "And given the war, rogue Force-sensitives attract dangerous attention."
"Dangerous attention like the Sith Lord who's been manipulating them for over a decade."
Kael tried to frame a polite refusal, something about needing time to prepare or preferring to stay out of galactic politics. Instead, what emerged from his traitor mouth was:
"I appreciate the sparkly tower invitation, but the wise grandmothers might think I'm stuffed with dangerous socks!"
Anakin actually laughed. "Okay, now I know he's not on spice. Nobody comes up with that level of weird while high."
Obi-Wan sighed, a sound like the wind through ancient ruins. "That's... not a refusal I've heard before. Regardless, you're coming with us. The Temple has healers if you're suffering from some affliction affecting your speech."
The finality in his tone made it clear that argument was pointless. These weren't suggestions—they were instructions from the Jedi High Council, delivered through their most diplomatic representative. Refusing would only make them more suspicious.
[DIPLOMATIC FAILURE]
[FORCED TEMPLE VISIT PROBABILITY: 94%]
[RECOMMENDATION: COMPLY]
"At least Anakin seems amused rather than homicidal."
"All right," Kael said. "But I should warn you—I don't do well with large groups of authority figures."
"We'll keep that in mind," Obi-Wan replied dryly.
They escorted him from the apartment like civilized kidnappers, Anakin taking point while Obi-Wan remained at Kael's shoulder. The morning sun painted Coruscant's endless cityscape in shades of gold and silver, traffic streams flowing between towering spires in perfect algorithmic precision.
And there, rising above it all like a beacon of doomed hope, stood the Jedi Temple.
[QUEST UNLOCKED: FACE THE JEDI COUNCIL]
[OBJECTIVE: AVOID REVEALING FUTURE KNOWLEDGE]
[OBJECTIVE: AVOID IMPRISONMENT]
[DIFFICULTY: EXTREME]
As their speeder lifted off from the apartment building's landing pad, Kael stared at the Temple's approaching spires and wondered if he was flying toward salvation or his own execution.
"'Extreme' might be an understatement."
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