last_kallig | Au: Kid Ibani-Tatooine Era Obi-Wan Kenobi

Au: Kid Ibani-Tatooine Era Obi-Wan Kenobi

(OOC: Content warning for mention of torture, harm done by and to children, suicidal ideation and quite possibly suicide attempt.)

Ibani is a fourteen year old Sith Acolyte and her life of pain is written in her body for those who can read it. The scars of a slave collar on her neck, the letters and numbers carved under one eye like a bantha brand, those were only the beginning. She's been shocked regularly with force lightning for years as well as being subjected to more primitive methods of torture, and all have left their mark. Scars from teeth, claws and blades mark her skin, the echoes of broken bones still visible if you look the right way in the Force.

She should be dead, and she might be shortly, despite her struggles. She doesn't know how she got HERE, wherever this hot desert is, instead of the cold desert of Korriban. The gravity is wrong, the temperature is wrong, and while the Force shouted just before she landed here it is strangely silent now. (She might be insane, in which case she should put herself down before she harms anyone, but she's waiting for more evidence on that one way or the other.) She's dying by inches of heat and thirst and she can't push her body any further, even with all the Force tricks she knows.

She crawls on her belly under an overhang of rock, collapses. She can enter a trance, reduce her need for water, but that means that without help she will simply fail to ever wake, will slip away into the Force in death. It's a long shot, but she's worth more alive than dead even to the most nefarious of persons. (She knows better than to expect mercy or kindness from strangers.)

Ibani sinks into the Force, awaiting aid or death.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm afraid the planets you know as Sith Empire are all mostly unknown or uninhabited now," Ben says softly, letting the weight of it settle with her. "The current Galactic Empiure rose directly out of the Republic."

The weight of that settles uncomfortably in her get.

"That's bitterly ironic, considering history," she says softly. "How long, how long has it been the Galactic Empire?" She senses this might be a difficult topic of conversation.

It's not an easy topic, but it can only be seen in the way he stares into the middle distance and scratches his beard as he counts the years.

"Ten years, if I've been counting right. Empire Day isn't really a big celebration out here."

"So it's been a while, but the changeover would have happened when I was four years old. I can probably get away with not remembering much about it."

And that makes Ibani 14, four years older than Luke.

"Your early life would have been overcast by the Clone Wars," says Ben. "I doubt many people will expect you to remember."

"So much history to learn," she remarks, shaking her head. "But I suppose I have time, if you're willing to teach me."

"I could teach you things too, force tricks you might not know. Or the Sith language, although I don't know that anyone else speaks it now."

Palpatine probably does, considering his obsession with the Sith Empire of Ibani's era, but he's not likely to have taught anyone else.

Ben shakes his head.

"There aren't many Force tricks I need to know anymore. Some history, maybe. But your company will be enough."

She shouldn't feel like she owes him for this.

"You never know what might come in handy," Ibani argues. She's spent years going after every scrap of knowledge she could get to try to stay alive.

"The force cloak at least might be useful for you to know. Mind tricks don't work on cameras or droids, after all."

She grins. "I want to keep you around."

Ben smiles, ducking his eyes away for a second. He has to concede that would be useful.

"Very well. But you should realise I've lived this long already, I have experience in staying alive."

"Of course," Ibani replies. "I never thought you didn't, but it's good to have options."

She grins teasingly. "How many years of experience in staying alive do you have?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ben says. "Not fifty, I don't think. I don't know how old I was when I went to the Temple."

"I wouldn't have guessed that," Ibani says. "You do very well at disguising your age!"

Oh dear.

That means she gets to have Ben around for longer, hopefully!

"Thank you?" Ben offers dryly.

Ibani didn't mean that in a bad way, honest!

She ducks her head at his response, curling in on herself a little. "Sorry."

Ibani casts desperately for a subject change. "Do you have a lightsaber, still?"

He feels a little guilty that his usualy method of teaching through dry sarcasm has such an effect - it definitely wasn't his intention.

He stands, walks over to a chest across the room and opens it, ignoring ont of the rolls in there and drawing out his own, blue lightsaber that he hands over to show.

"It doesn't get much use I'm afraid."

She'll get used to it! Call it a legacy of authority figures in her life so far using the shock of a slave collar or force lightning to 'teach'.

"It's beautiful," Ibani says softly, awed. "The crystal feels different, not Adegan, but something else." She handles it carefully like the precious thing it is.

"I found it on Arkanis," Ben says. "Usually we'd travel to the caves Ilum for crystals, but I rather enjoyed the challenge of seeking out those that scatter themselves around, waiting for the right person."

He sits down, to watch her handle it. "I have some of the materials for you to construct your own, but of course even holding it is illegal."

"The adegan crystals on Ilum used to call to me," Ibani says quietly. "They'd sing hello to me, none of the other slaves could hear them."

"Of course," Ibani replies when he mentions that even holding it is illegal. "Because whatever they have already done wasn't enough," her tone turns a little bitter.

She carefully hands the lightsaber back to him. "I found my crystal in the temple on Korriban, right before whatever it was, happened." She pulls the crystal out of her pocket, a bright amethyst color, and its song picks up as she touches it, holds it out to Ben.

He ducks his head, almost as if he cold apologise for the state of the galaxy and the life that's left for the Force Sensitive.

But he reaches out for the amethyst crystal, closes his eyes and his fingers in order to hold it for a few seconds, listening to it.

"That will do nicely," he says after a while, and offers it back. "You can make quite the lightsaber with that."

Ibani smiles, pleased that the crystal will work. "I'd hoped it would work for that. I was far enough away from being apprenticed that I hadn't had the chance to study lightsaber construction much."

She looks at the chest Ben took his lightsaber out of. "Would it be better for me to store the crystal in there, for the time being?"

"Yes, if you don't mind," he says. "At least when we go to town or away from the hut. You never know who might be prowling in the space ports."

"I don't mind," Ibani replies. "Best not to risk trouble unnecessarily." She learned that lesson all too well as both slave and acolyte. She hands the crystal to Ben to place in the chest.

"Does the spaceport see a lot of traffic here?"

"Some," Ben says. "There's not a lot of trade generated here, but we are right in the middle of Hutt space. So while the Emire might not bnother us much there are other concerns."

"The Hutts," Ibani's response isn't really a question. Even in her time the Hutts were infamous for crime and slavery. "And other cartels?"

"A few," he says. "None as prominent around here. The Bounty Hunter guild operate out of Mos Eisley from time to time."

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