Rope Tricks

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It was very early morning, and Qui-Gon stood before the large sliding door which led to the balcony of the quarters he and his apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi shared in the Jedi Temple. The young orange Coruscant sun filtered minimally through the treated transparisteel...the glow intensified as Qui-Gon slowly turned a small dial on the wall next to the window. The warm light illuminated the Jedi Master's wakeful face, uncovering the depth of his sharp blue eyes, which turned back to regard his stirring Padawan.

A muffled groan and lazy movement issued from the bed, as the unaccustomed glare reached Obi-Wan Kenobi's tightly wrapped form. Qui-Gon stopped his manipulation of the brightness knob on the wall and walked to stand beside his  Padawan's bedside.

"Up now, Obi-Wan. We have a lot to do today. "Qui-Gon allowed his voice to sound somewhat drowsy, but insistent. Obi-Wan struggled to a sitting position and squinted up at his master.

"Yes, Maaahhhstah" It was more a yawn than real speech. He executed a slow side roll, which brought him to a standing position in front of his Master. His eyes adjusted slowly and Qui-Gon's face came into view. As Obi-Wan focused on his
Master's face, he realized that his Master also was intensely focused on him.

Qui-Gon's smile spread to the rest of his face as he lifted his Padawan by the shoulders and maneuvered him  purposefully to the dresser, where a fresh set of training clothes lay, ready for habitation by one Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"I can see I awoke you from a particularly pleasant dream, young Padawan, but your training comes first, as all Jedi know." Qui-Gon was almost laughing now, but he restrained himself to allow Obi-Wan to regain his senses without undue
confusion. Obi-Wan looked down, then sharply up at his Master, flushing slightly.

"Obi-Wan! Training time!" He held out a pair of pants to the bleary Padawan, who took them automatically and began to fumble for the waistband.

"I think you need a meditation period this morning, Padawan. Something to sharpen your focus. Now, Jedi Padawan Kenobi, kneel!" Qui-Gon's voice had swiftly fallen into a barking rhythm and Obi-Wan promptly dropped the pair of
pants from his hand.

He dropped to his knees where he was, sitting naked with his once neatly stacked clothing surrounding him in disarray. His eyes closed automatically, his body fell into the natural stance of long practice, kneeling with straight back, hands cupped in front, right over left. The flush faded from his face and body as his breathing evened out...

An unknown time later...

The shallow dark world faded abruptly from Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind with the words of his Master, " Obi-Wan, you will get dressed and you will meet me in the gardens in 30 minutes. You will bring a 9 foot length of rope, looped by about a foot at one end. You will bring yourself and your lightsaber. Make sure you are well-groomed. I won't have a sloppy Padawan at training today."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and rose, immediately heading for the 'fresher. //Why did he emphasize "well-groomed"?// The thought faded and he proceeded to shower off the dreams of the night.

The sun shone evenly into the high windows of the Jedi Temple Gardens. It was now midmorning, and there were small gatherings of Jedi at their devotionals in various copses of greenery. The clearing near the large fountain was fairly teeming with a class of older initiates between 10-12 standard years of age. They gathered in a circle, which began to clear now, revealing the towering form of his Master.

Obi-Wan suddenly knew why he had asked for a well-groomed Padawan. These initiates were quite impressionable, and if they were asked to defer to a sloppy Jedi Knight or Padawan, their keen minds would question everything--"why does your Master allow you to wear your braid that way? Why are your tunics wrinkled? Who cuts your hair?" These were questions a Padawan would find tiresome, but an initiate is so focused on becoming a Padawan that he is intensely aware of the fine features of every Padawan he came into contact with.

Apparently Qui-Gon meant to have Obi-Wan instruct this class of initiates alongside him today. The thought did not comfort Obi-Wan in the slightest. He liked to be prepared, but he knew this was a lesson for him as well. //Swallow
your apprehension and get on with it, Obi-Wan...//

He strode forward into the shuffling mass of initiates, making his way to his Master. A questioning look was all it took, and Qui-Gon spoke readily. "Ah, Padawan, you're here. You will be assisting me in a demonstration this morning.
Master Yoda has requested that I show his class some unorthodox fighting techniques," Qui-Gon glanced at the rope in his Padawan's hand, "thus the unorthodox weapon."

Obi-Wan handed the rope off to Qui-Gon and proceeded to play the part of discipline officer, clapping his hands twice and barking formation orders, "Form into lines, initiates. Be mindful and give Master Qui-Gon your full attention." Obi-Wan made a circuit of the class and returned to stand next to his Master.

Qui-Gon quietly began. "Good morning initiates. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Yoda has asked us to instruct you this morning in some fighting techniques which you are probably not accustomed to seeing in your everyday training."  The initiates' eyes were all fixed on Qui-Gon, who now held the rope stretched in front of him, the loop hanging down from his left hand.

"Today, you will learn some creative ways to immobilize an attacker using only a looped piece of rope. You might recognize this type of rope, as it is commonly used around the Temple and is thus freely available. You might find yourself in the position one day of having nothing else with which to defend yourself." Qui-Gon squared off with his Padawan.

"My Padawan will attack me with a full speed punch to the face. I will defend using the rope. Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon looked to his Padawan.

With the signal, Obi-Wan launched a normal full speed punch at his Master's head. Qui-Gon knocked it away, but draped the loop over the offending arm, quickly pulling the free end through the loop and around Obi-Wan's non-punching arm. Qui-Gon raised, then lowered his body, pulling the rope with him until he was behind Obi-Wan.

The Padawan was hopelessly tied, both arms locked and trussed behind his back. Qui-Gon pulled tighter and looped the thus liberated end of the rope around Obi-Wan's neck. He pulled until a small tapping issued from Obi-Wan's booted foot. The initiates gaped at the sight. Obi-Wan was pressed against the floor, arms securely tied, back arched around Qui-Gon's knee, his face turning red from the constriction of the rope around his neck. And it had taken a total of 5 seconds.

"This is a dangerous technique for the untrained. Therefore, you will not be allowed to practice this on each other...only on me or my Padawan. To illustrate, just look at how quickly I could have choked the life out of my Padawan. One must be careful when using these techniques in practice. " A slight gasp issued from Obi-Wan as Qui-Gon finally released his control. The initiates stared as Obi-Wan untied himself with ease, maintaining possession of the rope
afterwards.

"This technique requires creativity and the implicit understanding of empty hand techniques, as they are the basics of mastering your own body's flow of energy. The rope is merely an extension of your body, just like a lightsaber or any other weapon. And it doesn't necessarily require strength, just good mechanics. My Padawan will now demonstrate on me."

Obi-Wan struggled to remember the last time he and his Master had practiced rope techniques, and couldn't bring an image to mind. //Just trust the Force and do what you always do...// *Live in the moment and it will come back to you, my Padawan* Qui-Gon sent reassurance across their bond as he squared up to Obi-Wan.

The punch came quickly, and Obi-Wan struck it with the end of the rope, pulling it through the loop on the other side as he stepped around Qui-Gon, tying his arms together as he went. Obi-Wan dropped his weight and Qui-Gon fell like a sack of Alderaanian Chocolate Oranges to the grassy ground. Obi-Wan pulled his Master's arms over his head and looped the rope again, this time around his legs. He tied the rope securely in a tight knot for effect.

The Master lay unceremoniously facedown with his arms and legs tied together, and yet he managed to sound dignified. "Some of you will have enough discipline with the Force by now to use it to untie yourselves from even such a well-executed trussing as this one. " He looked sidewise and caught the eyes of a young blonde girl, who looked into him with piercing green eyes. She was intensely aware, as were those around her. The initiates were enjoying the show, but they were picking it apart for lessons they could take away with them.

They watched as the ropes, which were tight enough to bend Qui-Gon's back into a quite uncomfortable looking arc, fell away as nothing. The young blonde girl spoke first. "Master Qui-Gon, what do you do if you can't get it tied?"

"It is not always necessary to tie the rope. It is enough to wrap the rope around the assailant just tightly enough to pin the arms or legs to his body so he can't fight you. It gives you enough time to get away, find a better weapon or employ Force-techniques. Come, try it on Obi-Wan. " The small girl rose and squared up to the much larger Obi-Wan. She didn't even wait for him to attack, but threw the rope gleefully around Obi-Wan's neck and pulled on it. Inexperienced as she was, the move allowed her to lower Obi-Wan to her level so she could finish the job.

Every initiate was given a turn, and by the end of the class two hours later, both Master and Padawan were criss-crossed with rope burns. They dismissed the class to midday meal and trudged back to their quarters to shower. The  morning spent tied in knots seemed to have tied their tongues in knots. Neither Master nor Padawan spoke as they walked along.

Upon reaching their quarters, Obi-Wan proceeded to stretch himself out as widely as possible on the bed, as if to throw off the rope that was no longer there. Ten initiates had roped him; ten had roped his Master. Several times each. No wonder Yoda didn't want to teach this class...Obi-Wan had heard that it was traditionally taught by a visiting Master. Perhaps Qui-Gon had merely drawn the unlucky lot this semester. he found his thoughts drifting into hazy sleep....

Qui-Gon spoke. "Well, Padawan, what lesson did you learn?"

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

//Lesson...patience...definitely patience.// "I noticed many of the initiates attempting to copy yours or my exact techniques. But it failed for some and worked for others. The technique is individual...like a Padawan's training is individual. No two are the same in the Force. " He continued to stare at the ceiling.

"You already knew that, Padawan. Did you learn nothing new?"

"I didn't know I could still do those techniques. I thought I had forgotten them, but I had not."

"I imagine you HAD forgotten them, Padawan. You found the flow of the fight. It is an old lesson, but one that needs to be remembered explicitly occasionally, even by an advanced Padawan. But your lesson has only begun."

Obi-Wan raised his head off the bed and furrowed his brow at his Master, who stood straight and expressionless in front of him. His eyes had closed; Obi-Wan could see that he was concentrating, focusing.

He felt a slight tingle, then it happened. A tightness engulfed him; the ropes he had dropped on the floor were suddenly looping around his wrists and ankles. It all happened in less than a second. Obi-Wan pitched forward face-first, as his arms and legs were drawn sharply together behind him.

Nevertheless, Obi-Wan could see what the lesson must be here. He held the ropes as he found them, using tendrils of Force to trace their lines of movement. he began to untangle the snaked ropes calmly, as he had done during the demonstration.

The ropes only became tighter. The arch in his back increased, and he grunted at the pain caused by the contortion. //Slow your breathing...trace the knots...//

Obi-Wan was doing everything he had learned, but nothing would loosen the ropes. He strained his neck to catch a glimpse of Qui-Gon, perhaps to divine what he had done to him, but Qui-Gon did not appear to even be concentrating now. He was
sitting in the large chair facing the bed relaxing and watching bemusedly.

The Padawan grasped for the lesson, feeling anger rise, slowly, then frustration as ropes shrank into him. Hisbreathing quickened, and he heard himself whimper. //That's not right..//

He reached out for the bond he shared with his Master. How could Qui-Gon be doing this? But he sensed no disturbance coming from Qui-Gon. In fact, his Master was reading the latest issue of the Coruscant Senate Review and munching on a Pralla fruit.

Obi-Wan felt himself beginning to chuckle, despite the pain of the ropes, which never ceased their inexorable tightening. The sheer absurdity of the situation: he, tied up beyond his capability to extract himself, Qui-Gon reading a banal publication, munching fruit and watching him like it was a sporting event...

Obi-Wan's chuckling became a high-pitched keening laugh, a hysterical sounding animal noise, which came in waves from the struggling Padawan. He was sweating profusely now, gasping with fits of laughter, which would not stop.

Qui-Gon looked up momentarily. "Stop struggling, Padawan, and you will get it." He calmly buried his face in the banal publication once more, leaving Obi-Wan to his hysterics.

The laughing abruptly stopped as Obi-Wan felt his feet touch his head and realized just how tangled he really was. A glimmer of fear touched him. He swallowed hard, caught his galloping breath and turned it around.

//What is wrong with me? I'm a Jedi. I lost my calm so quickly.//

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, slowed his breathing. He breathed in the intense pain which stabbed through his limbs, let it pass through him. Then he could see. A hard knot inside him, at his very center. The Force flowed through it and proceeded in a twisted path from it. He caught one swirling tendril and followed it in. There, he knew why he could not escape.

He was tied from within...the Force had knotted within Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan was, in effect, tying himself up. The realization shot through him; recognition shattered the hard crystal of resistance and the knots slid off him. His body uncurled and flopped like a fish on dry land. Sharp pains of unaccustomed freedom lanced through him and he let go an involuntary grunt into the soft mattress.

Qui-Gon finally looked up from his magazine and raised an eyebrow. He allowed Obi-Wan to overcome the rush of sharp spasms which ran through him as he slowly stood and stretched himself.

"What did you learn, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan swore there was a note of amusement in his otherwise impassive Master's voice. "I...untied myself, not the ropes, Master. I don't understand it, but there was a knot inside me, and I could not escape until I broke it."

"Understanding is not necessary. What you felt was a trick that advanced Force-users can use against opponents who also are strong in the Force. I tied you up physically and held you momentarily using the Force in a straightforward way. But then, I pulled it into a "twist" of sorts inside you and left you that way. It caused you to fight yourself until you found the knot I had made."

Obi-Wan's eyes came into sharp focus on his Master.

"Master, I know the lesson now. The techniques are individual, not just in the body, but in the manipulation and presence in the Force. I cannot let myself become too lazy in my relationship with the Force. It is a living thing and is ever-changing."

"Good, Obi-Wan. You, like the rope, must be a flexible weapon. Even you, my Padawan, tend to fall into familiar patterns which can be predicted. You must learn to rely on the Force, not the techniques you have practiced. Once you learn the technique, you will be able to throw it away, retaining only its essence. Then, you have truly mastered the art you practice."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan found that he had slumped back onto the bed, and, despite the tangle of ropes underneath him, was slipping into slumber once again.

Qui-Gon regarded the drowsy Padawan, then shifted his gaze to the wrinkled publication in his hand for a long moment. He tossed it away with a wry look. *Coruscant Senate Review--not a good afternoon's reading.*  The Jedi Master's shadowed blue eyes fell closed, and he lay back in the chair which enfolded him. The Pralla rind slipped from his hands...