Chapter 1: The Force Giggles

Old Ben Kenobi sat in his small home on Tatooine, deep in meditation.

In his mind, Old Ben saw a boy sitting on a mat in a small room in the old Jedi Temple, struggling to meditate.

A vision, not of the future, but of his own past; the boy trying to meditate was a young Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The Jedi did not brood upon the past, but they did reflect upon it. Often, it wasn't till you had grown that you could understand your past, and you could not truly understand the present without understanding the past.

The meditation technique he was using was a new version of something very old, and he had discovered it along with Qui-Gon spirit. The goal was to not simply remember, but to truly observe the past, as if through a window. Sitting in his room failing to meditate had hardly been an uncommon experience for Old Ben Kenobi as a youth, but he did not question why the Force showed him this, and simply observed it.

The technique would, if it worked, be a great asset to gathering information, though it would surely have limitations.

The Force swirled around him with a feeling he was not used to from it-almost as if the force itself were curious.

The boy in his vision drew a startled breath and marveled at the feeling of the Force around himself.

A Force, Old Ben knew in a flash of nonsensical insight, that was roiling with curiosity. Just as the Force around him was.

A flash of recognition, on both sides of the window.

A rush of glee and spontaneity.

And where Old Ben had meditated, only clothing and a lightsaber remained.



Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Initiate, recently turned 11 years old, wondered what that had been about.

He didn't like meditating, but he wanted to be a Jedi Knight and all their teachers said meditation was important, so he'd been attempting it again, trying to sense the Force.

It had been going as poorly as normal when the Force had... perked up.

Disturbances in the Force happened, such that even untrained sensitives could feel them, but usually they were because of something bad that had happened. This hadn't felt like that at all, though what exactly it had felt like he couldn't say. The Force was vague and distant to him, even when he did feel it.

He supposed the interruption was as good of an excuse as any to stop trying to meditate.

Except, the thought came, in a voice that was definitely his, but seemed somehow older, more mature, that he'd just felt the Force, and there was no better time to meditate than with the feeling so fresh.

He closed his eyes, and calm swept over him.

Impatience vanished. Why would he be impatient when there was no place he'd rather be than where he was?



Grandmaster Yoda walked through the halls of the Jedi Temple, every sense alert.

A disturbance in the force had drawn him from his meditation. It had been powerful, but localized, confined, and, he suspected, quite close, likely taking place within the Temple itself.

That was not so very strange, and would not have drawn him from his meditation by itself, but the feeling of the disturbance had been unusual to say the least.

Throughout his long life, Yoda had often heard the soft, gentle laughter of the Force. But he had never before heard it giggle.

Yoda wandered through the Hall of Initiates and chose the room from which the strongest Force presence came.

Young Obi-Wan Kenobi sat cross-legged on the floor, lost in a commendably deep Force meditation for one his age. He noticed Yoda's entrance, but to Yoda's surprise and pleasure, rather than breaking meditation, reached out with the Force. Clumsy, weak, but impressive.

Yoda sat near Young Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan, sensing Yoda's intentions, continued his meditation.

For a bit. The questions bubble up through the Obi-Wan's minds despite his efforts, and his connection broke.

Yoda said, "Felt the Force you have."

Obi-Wan said, "Yes, Master Yoda."

"Felt a disturbance, did you?"

The boy nodded. "I did not understand, but I thought, with the feeling so fresh, I could meditate well. I did. That's the best I've ever meditated."

"Wise to take advantage, you were. How felt it?"

"It seemed happy, almost. I'm not sure." He was becoming flustered at being questioned by Grandmaster Yoda within his own quarters. As if he'd been given an important test while in the bath. "I don't sense the Force very well yet," he admitted.

"Much I felt from the Force. Unusual, it was. Surprise, joy, mischief. As if the Force were a child at play. Whence it came, know you?"

Obi-Wan stared, puzzled by the thought that Yoda was asking him not as a test, but because he thought Obi-Wan might know. "I have no idea."

"Distant, did it seem?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "It was all around me. Isn't the Force always all around us?"

"Correct in that you are." Obi-Wan struggled not to wriggle under Yoda's slow, unblinking gaze. "Meditate upon this, I will." The Grandmaster of the Jedi stood and left the initiate's room.

Obi-Wan needed several minutes to gather himself, aided by the fact that he had to get to his lightsaber class, which was his favorite class. Because it was fun, and because he was one of the better students, but mostly because when he practiced with his lightsaber he felt as if he were already a Jedi.

He arrived early in the training room, ignited his training blade, and was struck by the idea that he ought to run through all the basic forms.

He began with the first form, Shii-Cho, running through the wide slashes, letting the gyroscopic effects of his blade guide him, his focus contracting.

The basic moves of the second form, small, precise, typically one-handed.

Too much weight on your back foot.

He adjusted, found balance, lost it, found it again, lost it again.

Straighten your core. Your poor posture steals your balance.

He saw in his mind's eye a perfect vision of how he ought to move and copied it as best he could.

The third form, Soresu. Minimal, defensive, keeping the blade vertical and near his body. He had always disliked it, found it boring in drills, ineffectual in spars, but now it felt smooth and natural.

Soresu is still, not static. On your toes.

He corrected his flat-footedness, and moved through the fourth form, Ataru, what he normally used. The most popular form among Initiates, critical for battlefield movement. It was fast, acrobatic, aggressive, flamboyant even,

But not needlessly so. Spin less. The marginal increase to power is seldom worth the windup.

Form 5. Form three made aggressive, essentially.

You're overextending.

Form 6, a mixed bag of other forms, typically practiced by near-non-combatants who'd never mastered a single form. He nearly skipped it, but a voice reminded him it was the form of one who'd mastered all forms.

Form 7, Vaapad. Much like Form 5 in its basic moves, but with more acrobatics and more thrusts, and more evasive footwork.

Obi-Wan, stopped, sweating.

Form Three, something in him said.

Ataru was his best now, but most masters of Ataru were on the small side. It was good for now, since he was small, and the temple drilled younglings on it harder than on any other, knowing the importance of mobility, but he was a human male. He wouldn't stay small.

Forms 1 and 2 were practically antiquated, Form 7 worked well only in concert with dangerous force techniques no one would teach an initiate, and Form 6 wasn't really its own form, no matter what their Instructors said. And while form 5 was nice, he already had Ataru.

Which left Form 3.

It felt right. He'd focus on Forms 3 and 4. Steadfast defense and mobile attack. Combine them, and he'd be like a snapping turtle, sticking his head out to do damage, then drawing back into his shell until the next opportunity came.


Master Blith watched Obi-Wan Kenobi with interest.

The initiate had clearly made a decision to focus more on Soresu than priorly, and was having more success with it than she'd expect of someone who'd previously ignored it in favor of Ataru.

In a move that was pure Ataru, Obi-Wan flipped over a practice droid, struck it with his practice blade while in the air, adjusting his course to dodge one of the training blaster bolts, and as he landed, withdrew into the security of Soresu.

Still slow and clumsy, but it was the best Blith had seen Kenobi do, and he'd already been among the best of agemates. Better posture, better form, better balance, better focus, better decisions, and there was no doubt as to why. All younglings reached out to the Force when practicing, but today, Kenobi was succeeding with more of his attempts.

A closer connection to the Force assisted with every task. Perhaps the boy had overcome a mental block.



It was two weeks since the Force had Giggled, and Yoda was still keeping an eye on Obi-Wan Kenobi. The boy had improved in all his classes, but especially in Force Techniques, Force Theory, and Lightsaber Usage. His progress had been rapid in Ataru and Soresu, and Master Blith wished to move Kenobi into the advanced class, where he would be the youngest.

The boy's progression was remarkable but hardly unprecedented. Progress often came in fits and starts, and Yoda would've felt only pleasure if not for the strange disturbance that had been centered on or near the boy.

But it had not been of the dark side, so Yoda was not overly concerned. He felt rather is if someone had slipped a credit chip in his pocket on the sly. Strange though that might be, he would spend it when the time came.


My canon is the movies and, to a lesser extent, the Jedi Apprentice series. I've read a few of the clone wars books and am vaguely aware of the cartoon series.

In this fic, Jedi philosophy is what I make of it, and high midichlorian counts are a result of a strong connection the Force, not the cause of it. I'll do what I like. What I like is for Obi-Wan to be dope.