Temple Mischief: Case of the Disappearing Padawan

Qui-Gon was starting to worry. He hadn’t seen Obi-Wan for three days, even at meals. It was very unusual for the boy to disappear without a trace for so long. In fact, Qui-Gon could never remember him disappearing at all. He was eighteen years old, and he had been in some strange situations, but he had never gone missing. Though he was a mischievous boy, and his bizarre actions never seemed to end, he was nonetheless a good apprentice.

Which was exactly the reason the serene Jedi Master was pacing a track into the floor and fidgeting uncontrollably. He tried calling on the Force to calm himself, but that just made things worse. Every time he opened himself to the Force, he could feel his Padawan’s startling absence from his mind.

Every Master, Knight, Apprentice, and Initiate knew Obi-Wan was missing. Qui-Gon was projecting his fears quite loudly – so loudly, in fact, that Yoda was at that very moment on his way across the Temple to confront the man.

When the door to his quarters slid open, Qui-Gon physically jumped. He spun around, nearly falling over as he noticed the stewing little green creature in the doorway.

“Today, bad at shielding you are, Qui-Gon,” Yoda scolded, his ears flattening as his brow wrinkled. “Disappeared, Obi-Wan has. Know this, we do.” The troll accented his words with a thump of his stick on the floor. “Worry, you must not. Find him, you will, or foolish, you will look.”

“Yes, Master Yoda,” the taller Jedi replied, bowing slightly and trying to focus on something other than his AWOL Padawan. Yoda nodded and turned to leave, muttering something under his breath that sounded something like “cora berries and bantha fur” to Qui-Gon’s over-taxed brain.

The door slid closed once more, leaving Qui-Gon alone with his thoughts. He knew he should be out searching for the boy, but he had absolutely no idea where to start, considering Obi-Wan’s presence was completely gone, even from his mind.

“Think, Jinn!!!” he yelled out, holding his head in his hands. “Where would Obi-Wan go?” Knowing it was pretty much useless to think, Qui-Gon did the one thing he knew would help, but had been successfully avoiding for the past seventy-two hours. Opening himself to the Force, the Jedi left his quarters in search of his missing apprentice, letting the currents lead him where it would. As he moved swiftly down the hall, younger and elder Jedi alike moved out of his way, knowing exactly what was going on because of his earlier broadcasts.

Before long, Qui-Gon had wandered into the refractory. It was long past evening meal, but there were still a considerable number of Jedi still sitting around, finishing up remnants of dinner and dessert. All of them had stopped to stare at the panicking Jedi. After all, it wasn’t every day that one got to see the legendary Qui-Gon Jinn in such a tizzy that he couldn’t control his shielding.

He tore through the refractory at a breakneck speed, dodging Master Tiin as he hurdled a table and two chairs, the Force dragging him to one of the back rooms of the Kitchen area. He burst inside, scaring one of the cooks half to death as he was finishing up the last of the dishes.

“Padawan Kenobi…have you seen him?” Qui-Gon gasped, out of breath for the first time since he was an apprentice himself. The startled chef shook his head in the negative and hurried out of the room, not sure he wanted to know why this particular man was in such an uproar.

The Jedi Master was suddenly struck with the realization that he looked like a complete and utter fool. He had just scared the bejeebers out of one of the best cooks on Coruscant, everyone in the Temple knew what was going on, and half the population of the place was probably sitting around laughing at how silly he looked. He shook his head hard and searched for his center.

Slowly, the Force poured around him, singing with life and goodness, but no Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was trying his hardest not to get too frustrated…

~ + ~

Meanwhile…

“Hey, Obi?”

“Yes, Garen?”

“How long have we been stuck in here?”

“About three days.”

“I thought you said Master Jinn would find us instantly…?”

“Usually he knows exactly where I am. I don’t understand why he can’t find us…and why I can’t reach him.” A Pause.

“Obi?”

“What, Garen?”

“I’m cold.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sticky.”

“Me too.”

“This was a big mistake.”

“It would have worked if I hadn’t been in such a hurry…”

~ + ~

3 hours later…

Qui-Gon was at his wits’ end. He had searched the entire refractory and surrounding areas. There was still no sign of Obi-Wan. And to further complicate the situation, Master Fisto’s Padawan had turned up missing as well.

“Where else could they be, Kit?” Qui-Gon asked, completely stumped. It wasn’t like the boys to just disappear. True, they were always getting into some sort of strange situation, but usually it was a harmless one. Both Jedi Masters were really starting to worry for the safety of their Padawans.

“I don’t know, Qui-Gon,” the tentacled Master replied, just as clueless. “Did Padawan Aleri not say that she last saw the two after evening meal two nights ago? She also said that they were carrying a pot filled with something, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“That she did, Kit… but what would Garen and Obi-Wan be doing with a pot?”

“Making soup?”

~ + ~

Back with the Padawans:

“Garen?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“I thought I heard Master Fisto’s voice.”

“You’re delusional. They’re not going to find us.”

“Yes, they will.”

“I wish they wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I really don’t want them to see us like this.” The frustrated Obi-Wan punched the wall.

~ + ~

The two Jedi Masters were about to give up and send for the Coruscant police when Qui-Gon heard a loud thump behind the wall at the far end of the storage room. Instantly, he was tearing through the carts of food supplies, fighting to get to the wall. Master Fisto watched on in amused horror as the normally serene Jedi worked frantically.

“I heard something!” Qui-Gon shouted at him as he snatched away the last cart of Alderaanian cooking wine to reveal a small steel door. The two Jedi stared at the sign on the portal in disbelief. Bomb shelter. Force-proof, The sign read. They looked at each other and back at the door…then back at each other. And they laughed.

They were still chuckling when they pulled open the door to reveal the two missing Padawans cowering in the corner. The sight of the two of them covered in some strange, congealing white substance sent them into further fits of laughter.

Fighting to regain some semblance of control, Qui-Gon stood upright and forced a straight face.

“What is going on in here?” he asked the pale Padawans.

“I am sorry, Master…this was all my fault,” Obi-Wan said as he struggled to get to his feet, shivering as the warm air from outside rushed over him.

“What happened, Obi-Wan?” Master Fisto persuaded, reaching out a clawed hand to help Garen to his feet.

“We were curious about something…so we decided to experiment,” Obi-Wan replied quietly, hanging his head as a deep blush crawled up his neck.

“What kind of experiment?” Qui-Gon asked, almost afraid to find out what the white substance on his Padawan’s face and clothes was.

“M-Master Q-Qui-Gon,” Garen sputtered, his teeth chattering, “We wanted to make ice cream.”

“What?” the tall Jedi asked in disbelief. “Ice cream? Then why in the seven Sith hells are you in here?!”

“We didn’t want anyone to see us, Master…” Obi-Wan swallowed and prepared to tell his story. “Chef Polenni gave us the recipe for his ice cream, and told us where we could find everything we needed. We were sure that if anyone saw us, they’d think we were insane, so when we found this room open, we brought everything in here. It was quiet and out of the way. We had almost finished getting the base mixture ready when we heard someone coming…”

“Obi-Wan and I got quiet, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t find us in here…but then they slammed the door. When we tried to open it, we couldn’t. It was like they had locked it.” By the time, Kit was using every ounce of the Force within him to keep from laughing in his Padawan’s face.

“If that is the case, then why are you boys covered in what I am assuming was supposed to be your ice cream?”

“When I ran to try to help Garen open the door, I tripped over the pot. It was dark, and I was in too big of a hurry to pay attention to where I was going.”

“Obi-Wan went flying, and when I tried to catch him before he hit the floor. I slid in the mess and we both ended up in a puddle of half-made ice cream.”

“And what have you boys learned from this experience?” Qui-Gon asked, thankful for the beard that was hiding the smirk on his face. Obi-Wan finally looked up, sure he knew the answer to Qui-Gon’s question.

“Never try to make ice cream ourselves?”


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