Archive: Yes, to M_A
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: PG
Categories: AU, Drama
Warnings: Only non-canonical ones. For those that read the JA
books, I follow canon only through #3.
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Series: Part I of the 'Herald the Future' Series
Series Summary: The young leader of a struggling community and
a jaded Jedi Master must work together to secure the future of
an important planet.
Summary, Part I: Qui-Gon finally learns what happened to
Obi-Wan eight years after his disappearance.
Author's Notes: Huge Thank You's to the following:
Lelia, for taking on the challenge of beta-ing a half-finished
newbie fic;
My best friend Jenny re-read this for me more times than I can
count, and wouldn't let me delete it;
And huge trans-Pacific *hugs* to Celtling Jedi, whose
unconditional encouragement and unwavering support are the only
reason I'm here at all (So you can blame her if you don't like
it <g>), plus she gives great beta.
While this is a series, not a WiP, some might find the end of
this part a bit...untidy. Look upon this story instead as a
doorway to a path I hope you will traverse with me. <g>
Disclaimer: I don't own them, for if I did, I wouldn't be
sharing! No, I'm not a nice person at all.
Feedback: Of course! Onlist, if you must. Or offlist at
<artemis@aintitcoolmail.com>
The Ahj of Keth stopped hoeing the hard ground and looked up to
the sun. The Jedi come today. The thought rested
momentarily against his mind as he returned to his task. Three
years on this planet had been difficult, but his people had
worked to overcome the harsh climate to make it their home.
Here, the work was hard, but they were free; and the two
thousand that had survived the terror would always be mindful
of the sacrifices needed to continue surviving.
The Jedi come today.
The Ahj sighed. He would grant them their audience and make his
proposal. Nothing more. No promises.
The only reason he was willing to consider this was the chance
to improve the lives of the people of Citharin II. My
people. He didn't own them, but he did feel a fierce
protectiveness. That they looked upon him as their leader only
served to validate this protective streak.
Today was Planting Day, the day that everyone in the small
community, regardless of other responsibilities, aided the
farmers with sowing the important crops. Even the Ahj. He had
released Finnea and Tristan from planting to meet the guests.
He could have released himself, he knew, but felt it was a more
important example to be out here. He would see them all at
night meal. He knew also that he was avoiding the Jedi
representative. He wondered who had been sent. Whose skills
were deemed necessary to deal with him? He would find out soon
enough.
The Jedi come today.
The boarding ramp had just touched the ground as the two robed
figures, one very tall and one very short, disembarked. With
his hood still up, Qui-Gon could sense rather than see his
apprentice's excitement. Although Anakin had been his Padawan
for two years, he was still quite young for missions.
Remembering his early missions with Master Yoda, he granted the
boy some leniency in his demeanor, vowing to calm him only if
he started bouncing up and down.
The people standing at the bottom of the ramp appeared to be
from two of the three tribes of Citharin II. The male was tall,
with dark hair and eyes, common to the Gallan tribe. The girl,
no more than 18 standard years, was smaller boned, slightly
built and had the fair coloring that represented prominent
traits of the Keth tribe. Although he had never heard of a Keth
with such vividly shaded red hair.
When they were within speaking distance of the waiting
emissaries, the two Jedi removed their hoods. Qui-Gon felt the
girl's shock through the Force before he saw it register on her
face. Her composure returned, but her eyes remained wide
throughout his introductions. The girl knows who I am.
The Gallan man stepped forward, nudging the girl out of her
shock and into a polite bow.
"I am Tristan Trevin of Gallan. This is Finnea Rogan, associate
to the Governing Ahj." Trevin glanced at the girl and raised
his eyebrows. Apparently, she was not holding up her end of the
greeting. Why has my presence thrown her off so? Possibly I
bring uncomfortable memories. Indeed, even thinking about
those memories caused his heart pain.
The girl finally spoke, "We welcome you Sirs to our community.
I will take you to your rooms. The Ahj has stated that you
should receive everything you need. I hope we can make you
comfortable."
"I am sure whatever accommodations you can provide will be more
than adequate. We require very little." Qui-Gon kept his voice
calm to reassure the girl.
"Ahj Rogan regrets that he is not here personally to greet you,
but he never misses a Planting Day. He will see you at night
meal." The girl appeared calmer now while performing her
official duties.
"We have no wish to interrupt a ritual of your people, Lady
Rogan." Qui-Gon did not add that they knew very little of the
Citharin Tribes. Citharin I had not been aligned with the
Republic, nor would it ever be following the actions taken by
the dominant tribe. He knew he was ill prepared for this
mission. He had found out about it and demanded he and his
Padawan come mere hours before lift-off. His time during the
journey here had been spent giving Ani instruction and staring
blindly at the mission data pad. Qui-Gon had read the history
of the Four Tribes of Citharin, the dominant tribe's gradual
rise to power, enslavement and attempted genocide of members of
the other three. He had already known these facts.
It was when he had reached the part about a small resistance
movement gaining momentum through the heroic actions and
untimely death of its leader that his heart had paused and he
had been unable to continue. He knew the results. The martyred
rebel leader's death had served as an impetus for a ferocious
uprising that had helped turn the tide of the enslavement. When
word had escaped about their successes, the new leader had been
able to implement complex negotiations with the Republic Senate
that had led to a mass exodus to forge a new life on a nearly
barren planet. The martyr, Obi-Wan Kenobi of Keth, would remain
forever in the songs and hearts of those that fought with him.
Now a representative of the Jedi has been sent to determine the
eligibility of Citharin II to enter the Republic. In return,
Angelus Rogan, the Governing Ahj, had a proposal in return
concerning the establishment of a Jedi Temple. Qui-Gon could
handle all this blindfolded and gagged. This wasn't his true
motivation for coming here. He had come to say good-bye. And he
wanted Ani to learn something more of the man he feels he's
replacing.
Finnea showed the Jedi Ambassadors to their rooms at the house.
She explained some of the custom while giving them a tour,
pausing to smile frequently at Anakin, who was unused to being
made so welcome in someone's home. "The Ahj hosts many Tribal
dinners and receives a few off-world guests here. His private
quarters are kept separate," she said gesturing to a set of
double doors at the end of one hallway. "He wanted you to know
that you are welcome to use anything in the house you need.
There's a library, kitchen, common room in the house. Practice
hall and gardens are in the back."
"We appreciate his hospitality. We could have stayed on our
transport."
"Oh no, he wouldn't hear of it. The Ahj has great respect for
the Jedi. He wishes to show you that respect in every way."
Qui-Gon glanced at the data pad he was holding before asking,
"Your surname is Rogan. Then you are related to the Ahj?"
The girl hesitated briefly before smiling, "Yes, I am." Then,
as if needing to provide more clarity, "Angelus Rogan is my
father."
"Then-" Qui-Gon cut himself off. He didn't need to go into this
now, didn't need to bring up past pain. He redirected, "you are
his sole assistant?"
The previously silent Trevin interrupted Finnea's answer.
"There is a Tribal Council to assist the Ahj in whatever tasks
need accomplishing to govern the community. Finnea takes care
of Ahj Rogan's personal needs in the house."
"I meant no offense by implying otherwise." Qui-Gon punctuated
his remark by bowing to the stiff young man. "We wish to learn
as much about your culture as we are able while we are here.
Our databanks carry only the sketchiest details."
"I'm sure Ahj Rogan will explain everything you wish to know."
The level tone used didn't mask fully the distaste Trevin
seemed to feel at the idea.
"And we can begin by explaining that while the Ahj is the
primary Governing leader of all of Citharin, that is through
the people's choice. He is answerable to the tribal council as
are the other two tribal leaders. There is no longer a dominant
tribe." Finnea moved forward to regain her footing as guide,
leading the three Jedi into a small alcove. "Your rooms are
right here. Feel free to freshen up or wander about until
mealtime. I have a quick errand to run, but I will be back soon
should you need anything. We will eat in about one hour." At
those words she touched her fingertips briefly to her
breastbone, brought them up to her lips, and outwards toward
the Jedi before she took her leave.
It was quickly decided that Qui-Gon and Anakin would share the
larger of the two rooms. Anakin was not used to being far from
his Master's side and didn't want a room of his own. The young
Padawan glanced out the windows of their room and noticed a
familiar red-haired figure hurrying away from the house.
"Where do you think she's going, Master?"
Qui-Gon, lost in thought, barely heard his apprentice. "Hmm?
Probably to tell her father that we are here." He started
unpacking his things. They didn't know how long they would be
here. Jedi tended to carry little on missions, but Qui-Gon
always brought one personal item with him when he felt the
mission was safe enough. He would never risk bringing something
he might have to leave behind, but he doubted they would be
rushing to their transport in the dead of night on this
mission.
He felt oddly at peace here. Perhaps being near these people,
with whom Obi-Wan had shared the last few years of his life,
settled him in a way he hadn't been in a long time. He looked
at the book of poetry he had brought along this time. It seemed
fitting that he should bring the last gift Obi-Wan had given
him, without explanation, just a shy smile. He had never found
out the occasion of the gift. Events had unfolded over the
following weeks that would precipitate losing Obi-Wan forever.
He had known that his apprentice would be upset at the news
filtering in from his home planet. When the Tanth tribe had
proclaimed dominance over the remaining three, Obi-Wan had
begged Qui-Gon to request Jedi intersession. Qui-Gon had tried,
but had already known there would be none, as Citharin had not
been a Republic planet. Had indeed refused the invitation to
join the Republic, further disallowing any representatives from
landing or any more of their children to be tested by the Jedi.
Obi-Wan had been the last Citharin child raised at the Temple.
And although he had lived there for fifteen years, he had still
felt ties to his home. Fear and anger had radiated off his
Padawan for weeks. He had tried to distract Obi-Wan, to talk to
him, and demand more work. Nothing had succeeded. Finally he
had let the boy patch in a comm link to his family.
Apparently what he had heard wasn't good. Qui-Gon had left him
alone for the evening to give him some privacy. An evening out
with friends had been a pleasant change from the resentment he
had been constantly deflecting. He had returned late to find
their shared quarters dark, Obi-Wan's light saber resting on
the table over a note. One he had read so often it was burned
in his memory.
Master,
I know you think this is stupid and that I am young and
foolish, but I can only hope one day you will understand. My
parents have disappeared. Half of my Tribe family is dead. I
cannot sit here and think of everything you have taught me
about being a Jedi and DO NOTHING. I have chosen my destiny in
this matter after much meditation. I know I can help or
everything I have learned has no purpose. Always know that
being your Padawan has been the greatest gift of my life. No,
you have been the greatest gift. I hope we can meet again one
day as friends and you will find it in your heart to forgive
me. I'm sorry I let you down, but I have to do this. Thank you
for all that you've done.
Obi-Wan
Eight years ago, Obi-Wan had walked out of his life, severing
their training bond, and their ties to each other. Five years
ago, Qui-Gon had received word that a resistance assault team,
led by his former apprentice, had been caught in an explosion
during a raid. There had been no survivors.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and reached for his center through the
Force. There was no need to expose Anakin to the depths his
grief had reached. His current Padawan was sensitive enough as
it was. Qui-Gon hoped that the time would come during this trip
when he would finally be able to make peace with his memories
of Obi-Wan.
The shiny brightness of red hair was all he saw at first. He
wiped the sweat out of his eyes and smiled at Finnea as she
approached, chest heaving with exertion. She waved her hand at
him impatiently; whether willing him not to speak yet, assure
him that she was all right, or both, he wasn't sure. He just
took a sip from his water flask and waited patiently for her to
find her voice. He was good at waiting, but time was getting
short.
"I assume the Jedi is settled. What is your impression?"
Finn glared at his impatience and took her time catching her
breath. "My Ahj," using his title to signify the importance of
what she was about to say, "About the Jedi, there's something
you should know."
Qui-Gon and Anakin gathered in the dining room as instructed.
Trevin of Gallan was present, as were two others he did not
know. Finnea flitted around the table straightening flatware.
Qui-Gon was reminded of her momentary nervousness at the
landing pad. Something was off here. He stretched his senses
outward, and found no darkness here, but did make a discovery
that surprised him.
"Did you think you were the only special ones here?" The tone
was light, but when he turned towards it, he saw that the eyes
were not. The young man stood with a woman who could only be
his sister. They both had the pale skin and black hair
associated with the Zaron tribe. Both also had bright green
eyes that turned up at the corners. While the woman was older
and carried her beauty with a preening consciousness, her
brother leaned against the wall and gazed steadily at him.
Qui-Gon had the distinct impression he was looking at an exotic
cat whose permission should be sought before petting. He bowed
politely to them.
"I apologize if I intruded on your privacy. I was just trying
to get a feel of the place. I had no idea you were
Force-sensitive."
"We just have a touch of it. Nothing to get all puffed up
about," the woman answered glancing sharply at her brother.
"Finnea's the only one in the room with any true gift." At that
second there was the sound of breaking glass. Finnea jumped
forward to stop any more wine glasses from falling, but a
domino effect seemed to have started, with glasses toppling
over, knocking into glasses, and hitting silverware. Qui-Gon
put out a gentle push with the Force, stopping any more
carnage. He smiled at the distressed young woman.
The girl tried to smile back, but her hands continued shaking
as she tried to put everything right. Anakin moved forward to
help, but the young Zaron man and Trevin were already there
picking up broken shards. The Zaron woman directed by pointing
out missed pieces. Qui- Gon reached out to Finnea with his mind
and his hand to try to calm her, but this very attempt seemed
to agitate her further as she re- straightened already straight
flatware while murmuring hurried apologies.
"Does this mean it's not time to eat yet?" The clear voice rang
out with such an undertone of good humor that Qui-Gon barely
had time to register the familiarity of the accent before
turning to the newcomer, grateful for the interruption.
Suddenly, his world was falling away beneath him.
The Ahj surveyed the pandemonium of the room appreciatively.
"Well done Finnea. You've managed to distract everyone
sufficiently so my tardiness went unnoticed."
Trevin cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention except
the Jedi Ambassador, who wouldn't stop staring at the Ahj.
"Master Jinn may I present the Ahj of Keth, Angelus-"
"Forget it, Tris, this man knows who I am," Obi-Wan cut in.
"Finn, you okay now?" Although he spoke to the girl, his eyes
didn't leave the tall Jedi in front of him.
"Yeah Obi, I'm okay. I think the table's safe for eating off
of, too."
"Good then, let's sit."
Obi-Wan fought to keep his voice even, but he knew his eyes
were silently asking the man in front of him to let him lead
this. All answers will come in time. I promise, my
Master. He couldn't believe that he was actually hungry,
but after throwing up all that he had eaten at Finnea's news,
he wasn't surprised. He had known the news would get back to
Qui-Gon after the Jedi contingent arrived, he had hoped not to
have his past come rushing at him quite so suddenly. He
realized that the table was silent, everyone watching him for
some signal to begin.
"We don't stand much on ceremony here. Everyone serve yourself.
Finn, could you pass me the wine?"
Finn handed him the bottle with a 'don't you dare get drunk'
look. Obi-Wan started to respond with an innocent smile, but
his gaze caught the grave expression on his former Master's
face. Guilt, hard and sharp, lanced through his gut.
He wanted to cry out, to fall on his knees at the man's feet,
to do anything to wipe the look of stunned hurt off the older
man's face. Get over it, Kenobi.
"Please, eat. I promise I'll explain everything later." His
words were directed at all of his guests, but he could look at
no one but Qui-Gon.
Dinner started quiet, strained. Finnea remembered finally to
introduce Elya and Erad Fenks of the Zaron Tribe to Anakin and
Qui- Gon. Elya tried to ask Anakin a few questions about what
being a Jedi Apprentice was like, but the boy appeared
flustered at the attention. Obi-Wan wondered that she'd never
asked him these questions. He realized that he was so far
removed from being a Padawan that he was surprised he
remembered ever being one. Finnea looked miserable. He tried to
get her attention, but she ignored him. When she spoke, Obi-Wan
realized she was suffering from guilt of her own.
"I didn't really lie to you before," she told Qui-Gon, "Angelus
Rogan is...was...my Father. Since his death, Obi-Wan has been
my guardian."
Obi-Wan smiled at her. "Finn is the best thing I've gotten out
of all this." He waved his hands in the air to indicate what
"all this" meant. "She'll be having her Blessing Way in a month
though. Then she's free to leave me," he mock sighed.
"Oh, please. If I left, who would feed you?"
"I've been quite capable of feeding myself for quite some time
now, my dear. I'm sure I would survive should you decide to
move out"
"That would only work if you live off of air!"
"No, then Letti would feel sorry for him and he would be eating
at our house all the time," this from Tris.
"Why do I get the distinct impression that you will all join
forces against me if I continue with this?" He normally
discouraged Finn from speaking so irreverently in front of
off-world guests, but hoped in this case it would ease some of
the tension.
"Face it, Obi-Wan," Elya threw out, "you take care of other
people, not yourself."
Obi-Wan continued with a mournful tone, "You know, I'm
beginning to feel insulted here. This is how my guests treat me
in my own home."
Suddenly, like a burst of light in the dim tension of the room,
someone giggled. Obi-Wan turned immediately to the source of
the sound, and smiled at the boy ducking his head.
"Look, even the boy apprentice laughs at me." He winked at
Anakin, who then smiled back. Some of the heaviness in the air
lifted and Obi-Wan exhaled a very visible sigh of relief. He
touched Finn's hand briefly in thanks. Without her presence, he
was sure he would have sat mute and unresponsive throughout the
meal. He looked around and noticed that everyone seemed to be
finished picking through their meals.
"Let us go somewhere less formal to talk," he suggested.
Finn spoke up, "I've set up the garden as it's so nice
outside."
"You think of everything, Finn. Come, everyone."
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan let Finnea lead the way to the back
of the house. The lighter tone the meal had ended with was gone
again in anticipation of the coming story. Anakin stepped up
beside him and looked up at him.
"Stay with us, Padawan," he said as he placed his hand on the
boy's shoulder.
He watched Obi-Wan's tense back walking ahead of him, unable
now to let the man out of his sight, for fear that he would
disappear in a haze of fantasy. Erad approached Obi-Wan,
casually placed his hand on his arm, and leaned in to tell him
something. Obi-Wan nodded in response to whatever it was. They
walked through the common room, through a set of double doors,
and into paradise.
"Welcome to my active meditation center," Obi-Wan announced as
they entered a small area, enclosed by a high rock barrier.
Against the walls were more species of plant than Qui-Gon could
catalogue in the evening light. Smaller stones sectioned off
several patches of the yard from each other. Each section
contained a different flowering plant, but some of the plants
refused to be contained within their enclosures and had grown
outward, taking up residence inside other sections. One plant
with silvery-white blossoms had even grown out so far as to
entwine its stems in the vine-like plants that covered the
outer walls. Qui-Gon stood, looking at the riot of life and
color and inhaled the strong energy that emanated from the
area. Energy that echoed of Obi-Wan.
"I used a little Force push to get it started, but it's taken
on a life of its own since then. I just come out here to weed
and keep the more dominant plants from choking out the weaker
ones."
Qui-Gon spoke for the first time since dinner began, startling
everyone. "It's beautiful." It was all he could think to say.
"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan's voice was so soft and uncertain
that Qui-Gon wanted to cry. Though he didn't know if it was due
to the tone or the use of the title 'Master.'
There was a patio area under an awning in which stood a table
and several chairs. Each took a seat while Finnea served tea.
Erad passed around a flask. Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan pouring a
good amount into his cup while pointedly ignoring the glare
directed at him from Finn. Qui-Gon waited with everyone else.
This was Obi-Wan's story to tell and the pace was his to set.
Obi-Wan took a sip of his tea, then a bigger sip. Then he
leaned forward, placed his cup on the table and placed his
elbows on his knees. Staring down at his dangling hands, he
began to speak in the near monotone that for his former Padawan
usually indicated either a boring recitation of facts or
extreme emotional detachment.
"When I showed up at the scene, things were pretty bad. I'm not
going to bore you with all of the details, since it is only
specific ones you are after," a pointed look in Qui-Gon's
direction, then back down, "anything else you would like to
know is available in our historical databanks."
He took another large swallow of tea, held his cup out to Erad
for a straight brandy refill, and then continued. "Two years
after my arrival, things were even worse. Our rebellion was
strong and well organized, but there were more people working
in the mines than free. More people dying than living. We were
able to make some off- world contacts, shuttle families to
other planets, hide others, but that was too slow and everyone
was loosing hope.
"Angelus, Tristan and I were working day and night, trying to
figure out some way to break through. We had realized that the
chance of regaining any sort of control of Citharin was
impossible. The Tanth tribe was wealthy, powerful and they had
weapons," another swallow of tea, "lots of them. To say morale
was low is a gross understatement. People were accepting their
slavery, as if they didn't have a choice. And the way things
were going, they didn't."
"That's not true, Obi-Wan," interrupted Tris, "the people
weren't that fatalistic, they were waiting. They knew you would
think of something."
"What they thought was wrong," Obi-Wan cut Tristan off. "They
placed too much faith in something they believed about me.
Their Kid Jedi Hero, come to save the day!"
The amount of self-loathing in Obi-Wan's voice hit Qui-Gon's
ears as aural poison. Obi-Wan reached for his cup again, but
seemed to change his mind, looking back down at his hands. When
he began talking again, the monotone had returned.
"Angel came up with the original idea, but all three of us
worked on it. We had to do something big. Something dramatic,
that would get the attention of not only the Tanth leaders, but
also the slaves that had lost hope. We decided to blow up one
of the mines. It was difficult to plan. The mines were heavily
guarded and worked almost around the clock. They were also a
symbol of oppression, pain, illness and death. We began what
became months of planning," at this Obi-Wan sighed, looking at
Tristan to continue.
Qui-Gon studied Tristan Trevin. The man was handsome in a
brooding way, taller and broader than Obi-Wan. He seemed older
as well, but Qui-Gon supposed this could be due to the man's
more reserved nature. He appeared to choose his words carefully
and Qui-Gon sensed this was not a man given to emotional
outbursts of any sort. He had already guessed that Trevin was
part of the faction against Republic involvement on Citharin
II. But he had also worked with Obi-Wan for years, in truth
more years than Qui-Gon had. He had to keep from wincing at the
idea that all of these people knew Obi-Wan better than he.
"We wanted to pick one of the mines that was less populated,"
Trevin began, "one that didn't have 'round-the-clock teams
working, but important enough to put a dent in production. We
spent months researching, sending out scout teams," a quick
glance to Obi-Wan, "correlating scraps of information from our
inside people. Our normal level of insurrection didn't
decrease, but the head teams put in overtime. Word began to
spread in the underground, word of something big. Just the
rumor of something happening was stirring everyone up."
"Basically, we reached the point of no return," Obi-Wan, having
consumed another cup of tea, continued, "even if we couldn't
find a suitable target, we realized that we had to do
something. Resistance was spreading on the basis of a rumor,
and more people were risking their lives, running away from the
camps to join us." Suddenly, Obi- Wan's voice dropped, "So many
were counting on this, we had to go through with it. I was
supposed to lead the team to our chosen target, my Force
abilities to be put to good use, for once."
Wrapped up in the story, even if he could guess the outcome,
Qui-Gon didn't notice Finnea get up and kneel in front of
Obi-Wan until she spoke.
"It is not your fault that you weren't there. You were
injured." Her voice was calm and her eyes clear as she forced
Obi-Wan to look at her, "Listen to me. Not your fault."
Obi-Wan continued his story while staring into his ward's eyes,
as if drawing strength from their green depths. "I was severely
injured just previous to our target date. We couldn't move back
the attack date, as the mine was set to go into full
production. I insisted on going anyway. Angel wouldn't hear of
it. He...I wasn't up to full strength yet, and he was adamant
about going in my place. He was feeling a bit vengeful about my
injuries." Obi-Wan surprised Qui-Gon by smiling slightly at
Finnea, and pushing her hair behind her ear. "He was the
bravest fool I'd ever met. After he died, I promised myself
that I would try to raise his equally brave daughter to be a
little less foolish than either of us."
Obi-Wan nodded to Finnea and she turned around so she was
sitting on the ground between Obi-Wan's legs facing the circle,
and finished the story.
"It turns out that one of the informants was double-crossing
us. As soon as the explosion team went in, the entrance to the
mine was blocked. The team had a choice: blow the mine anyway,
or become prisoners of the Tanth and probably be put to death.
They made the only choice they could." Even though her voice
was soft, her tone was pragmatic.
Qui-Gon marveled at her strength and realized that she would
have made the same choice. Indeed, every person sitting around
the table would have done that exact thing. It was a very Jedi
response. Survival was preferred, but the success of the
mission must come first. He wondered if this was an innate
quality of the resistance fighters, or something Obi-Wan had
taught them all.
Obi-Wan sighed. There was so much more he wanted to tell him.
But suddenly, he was exhausted. A full day of planting in the
sun, coupled with the stress of this evening was wearying. He
reached down and absently stroked Finnea's bright red hair,
finding one of the many small braids she had and toying with
it. It's not that he hated talking about what happened. It was
all over; there was nothing he could do about it, and nothing
he could do to change the past.
The assembled group was quiet, only the occasional sipping of
tea could be heard above the insect noises of the night. He
knew the story had to end. The past re-examined for all its
beauty and ugliness. There was no other way to lay ground for
the future of his people. The Jedi didn't have to settle here
and build their Temple, but Citharin II had to become a part of
the Republic. Otherwise, they were too vulnerable, small and
weak. A ready target for those that desire the real riches this
land could provide.
All of a sudden, he wished he were alone with Qui-Gon, back at
their quarters, mulling over the intricacies of some past
failed mission. He had to remind himself, nothing could change
the past. It's over. My life with him is over, best I give
him the explanation he deserves so we can both move on. So,
he cleared his throat and continued.
"I never realized my death would have such an impact. I don't
know why the mission specs were never changed. The Tanth that
survived the explosion swore that I had been there; I had died
there. I don't know. Suddenly, I was a dead hero and Angelus
was the one sitting in an infirmary bunker on the South
Continent.
"I don't know how I let myself get talked into it. I guess at
the time, it seemed the best idea. I wasn't too fond of myself
in those days. I no longer had to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, failed
Jedi apprentice, failed resistance leader, he was dead. And
that was fine by me. Angelus Rogan was an amazing man and a
gifted leader. I only wish his death could have inspired
everyone the way mine did. He was certainly more deserving of
it."
Obi-Wan was tired of talking, tired of evading Qui-Gon's
scrutiny. Tired; and maybe a little drunk. Suddenly, the story
was tired too. Unreal. There was more to it, of course, but he
didn't want to go into it all. Not tonight. Plus, the man's
unwavering gaze was becoming disconcerting. He couldn't recall
any time in his Padawan days when he had commanded such rapt
attention from his Master. He will let me keep talking all
night. That thought brought new guilt. Tired of guilt, too.
"How did you learn about our request? I placed it over a year
ago."
Qui-Gon started. He was not expecting the direct question, but
supposed it wasn't out of place. "Yoda brought it to my
attention. It had originally been assigned to another Knight,
and I asked to accompany him. The other Knight requested
reassignment at the last minute," He cleared his throat,
"according to Master Yoda."
Obi-Wan snorted.
"I don't know any specific reason why the Council took so long
to respond, except that the Republic is changing. Knights are
spread thin. It's complicated." Qui-Gon knew this was a feeble
explanation, but it wasn't proper exposing the problems of the
recent years to people he didn't know. "I do know that your
planet intrigues at least one member of the Council, since he
pushed this assignment forward."
"Sometimes I wonder..." Obi-Wan didn't finish the thought. He
had his suspicions about the extent of Yoda's involvement in
all of this. Qui-Gon didn't need to know that. Didn't need to
know that Yoda has most likely known about his faked death all
along. Only Yoda could reveal that. The double dose of such a
betrayal would only serve to hurt Qui-Gon further. The fresh
guilt this revelation caused forced his hand.
"I need to speak with Master Jinn in private, if everybody
doesn't mind excusing us."
Obi-Wan stared at the vine-covered walls as chairs scraped
around the two men. Murmured goodnights and thanks went
unnoticed. Anakin was conscripted to help clean up the dining
room. Then they were alone. Obi-Wan still wouldn't look at
Qui-Gon, affording the Jedi a chance to study the younger man
by the light of two small lamps glowing around the area. He
looked both different and similar to what Qui- Gon would have
expected. He had grown several inches, but as expected, was not
tall. His shoulder-length hair was still the same auburn-ginger
shade, but had glints of highlights from long days in the sun.
The eyes weren't even the same. Their mutable sea color seemed
harder, colder, offset by a thin scar that curved under one
socket. There was a scar on the opposite side of his face too,
curving along the side of his mouth, creating the illusion of a
smile line. Overall, he embodied power honed by long hours of
work and a hard view of life.
Qui-Gon couldn't blame him this hardness. As a Jedi, he had
negotiated too many treaties not to recognize the same look on
the face of every person on the losing side of the table. No
matter the outcome, every incursion ends in imbalance. Some
party retains more power. Somebody loses more than they would
like. In spite of any difference in race or species, the faces
always looked the same.
Qui-Gon was so intent on studying Obi-Wan's features in the
gathering darkness that when the younger man spoke, his voice
was disembodied. "I'm sorry, Master."
"For what?"
Obi-Wan still wouldn't look his way. "For not trusting that you
could help me and leaving you, letting you down. For not
contacting you and letting you know that I was all right. For
letting you think I was dead. For not...for not having the
courage to face you with my failure."
"What failure?"
Finally, Obi-Wan turned to look at him, his expression
incredulous. "What failure? I feel now that my whole life in
regard to you has been one long lesson in accepting my
shortcomings." A sharp laugh. "The irony of it is I went from
the Temple to the Agri-Corps, back to the Temple only to find
out that I should have stayed with the plants. I could have
saved everybody a whole mess of trouble."
"And where would the people here be now?" Qui-Gon was surprised
that even confronting Obi-Wan like this, still shocked and
hurt, he could easily revert into teaching mode.
"Don't start that. You and I both know that things might have
turned out exactly the same if I had never left the Temple.
Hell, they might have turned out better."
"But you don't know that. All you know is that you saved the
lives of over two thousand people. That is all that really
matters, in the end."
Obi-Wan was looking at him like he had sprouted antennae. "I
don't believe this. I'm trying to apologize to you. Guilt has
been eating at me. And you're turning all this into one of your
lessons. Hold on, I'll go get your Padawan. Maybe he can learn
something new tonight."
Qui-Gon chuckled, startling even himself. "I have missed your
sense of humor, Obi-Wan. I know this isn't what you expected
when you found out I was here."
"When have you ever done the expected, Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon was pleased to see a familiar glint in the too cold
eyes at last. He allowed another chuckle to escape. "I was
going to come after you, you know. I was going to find you and
figure something out."
"Why didn't you?" Obi-Wan's cool tone could not hide the
neediness behind the question.
"My Master stopped me. He said that you had forged your own
destiny. One you were meant to fulfill. And he said that I
would see you again, if the Force willed it. That was little
comfort. I was still determined, so he responded the only way
he knew. He sent me on a mission."
"Ah. Duty before personal needs."
"Yes, and you know Yoda loves nothing more than to be right."
"Which he usually is," Obi-Wan grumbled. "What did he tell you
then, when I died?"
"Foresee this, I did not. Most sorry, I am. Comfort you can
take in the freedom of his spirit in the Force."
Obi-Wan wanted to laugh at the impression. But he didn't let
himself. Couldn't allow this easily regained camaraderie with
his former master. There was still too much to do and too much
at stake. He looked around and realized that the lamps' fuel
had spent and he couldn't see the edges of the garden anymore
or determine the outline of Qui-Gon's shape in the dark. And he
was still tired. He had done all he was willing to do tonight.
"It's late and you must be fatigued from your journey. There is
much to do tomorrow. That is, if you're truly interested in
looking into our request?"
"I am," Qui-Gon answered, slightly shaken by Obi-Wan's abrupt
change in tone.
"Good then. I will see you in the morning. Goodnight, Master
Jinn." At that, Obi-Wan stood and went inside, knowing that he
was being rude, but suddenly needing to get away. He found
Finnea in the common room, waiting for him. He held up a hand
and walked past, out the front door and into the black night.
Qui-Gon stepped into the common room after taking a few moments
to compose himself. This strange exchange had unnerved him.
Although it had appeared subdued on the surface, there had been
a hostile undercurrent that he couldn't place. He was lost in
thought, wondering about the source Obi-Wan's anger when
Finnea's voice brought him around.
"Anakin went to bed. He said to wake him if you need him. I
think he's worried about you." She reached out and placed a
gentle hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"
Her concern touched him. This girl didn't even know him. Her
loyalty must surely rest with her guardian, who was agitated,
but she radiated a sense of calm assurance.
"Obi-Wan?" He couldn't help asking.
"He stepped out for a little while. He likes to walk around the
village at night. He says it reminds him of the important
things in his life. Can I get you anything? Some tea?"
"No, thank you. May I ask what you are reading?" Wanting to re-
direct the conversation away from both himself and his former
apprentice, Qui-Gon glanced at the data pad in Finnea's hand.
"'Advanced Healing Techniques of Humanoid Pulmonary Systems?'
You're a healer."
She smiled. "In training, always in training. Eri, you know,
Erad Fenks? Well, his grandmother trained the Berra twins and
me before she passed away. Mostly I've been self-taught. I can
Force heal minor illnesses and injuries without problem, but
since there are only three of us here I get a lot of field
practice."
"That's a great deal of responsibility for someone so young."
"With all due respect, Master Jinn, but after some of the
fieldwork I've been exposed too, I passed up 'too young'
several years ago. And since Obi was barely older than I am now
when he showed up ready to fight a war, I would think you would
know better than to feel one's age limits the range of
responsibility one should have."
"My apologies, Lady Rogan. I certainly didn't-" he was cut off
by her laugh, and a light touch on his arm.
"No, Master Jinn. I'm the one who should be apologizing. Here
you are, just trying to make small talk and I jump all over
you. Obi always said the worst thing I picked up from him was
his defensiveness. Well that and his sense of humor. And if
you're going to give me life advice, you might as well stop
being so formal and call me Finn, like everyone else."
So this is where his young apprentice had disappeared. Into the
mind and spirit of this young woman. He suddenly felt
comfortable in her presence, as if he had known her for 13
years instead of the stranger that had walked out of the house.
Finn exuded all of the affection and confidence that Obi-Wan
had when they worked together. He sensed she also shared
Obi-Wan's strong sense of duty, unshakeable loyalty and a
thirst for knowledge. Oh, Obi-Wan, you've done well with her
indeed.
"Do you and your fellow healers work out of an infirmary?"
Though he was determined to re-read all of the mission data he
had skimmed, he wanted to take advantage of the warmth this
girl offered by seeking as much first-hand information as
possible.
"No." Finnea turned her body on the couch so that she was
facing him and absently tapped on her data pad. "Obi-Wan and I
have been working on a budget for Ahja Fenks and the Ways and
Means Committee. The Council told Obi that they should be able
to afford it this quarter, but Elya is the Chair of that
committee and has yet to give her approval."
"How have you managed all this time without someplace to house
the ill?"
The young healer smiled as if this had never been a worry of
hers. "We came here with next to nothing, Master Jinn-- nothing
of value anyway --and we have so much more than that now.
Everything comes in stages." She tapped the data pad harder for
emphasis. "Our crops just recently started turning a true
profit, we finally have a real school building. I don't mind
going from house to house until we can afford someplace for me
to work in."
Qui-Gon regretted his earlier statement about Finnea's age, for
she was wise far beyond her years. He had not realized that
this community was so disadvantaged and hoped he would be able
to make a full estimation of assets versus needs for the
Senate. It was an unfortunate truth that planets that would
require assistance usually must have something of value to
offer in return. He had yet to see what Citharin II could
offer.
Qui-Gon bade Finn goodnight and headed to his room. He hated to
break the moment, but the day's events were catching up to him
and he was sleepy. He wanted to wait up for Obi-Wan, but knew
any further conversation tonight would offer little more. He
was just pleased to see some proof that the apprentice he
remembered still existed in the man living here, even if just
as an imprint on the spirit of the girl he raised.
Obi-Wan stomped through the village square. All tiredness was
gone now as he paced the road in the center of town. He
couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong, just that something
felt off. Everything was the same, and yet slightly different.
Qui-Gon was here, but he wasn't Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was here, but
he wasn't Obi-Wan, Padawan Learner anymore. But he was acting
like it. He had almost fallen into old patterns with his former
master, who seemed very determined to make him feel
comfortable. Spirits above, I even called him 'Master.'
When he found out that Qui-Gon was the Jedi representative, he
was sure this was going to be one of the most difficult nights
of his life. To face him again. To have to try to explain. The
guilt. That was the worst. A certain amount of guilt he was
used to. Something small and alive that lived constantly inside
his chest. This had been overwhelming, heart-crushing guilt.
This was too much. It would have been easier if Qui-Gon had
been as Obi-Wan remembered. Sure, the infamous serenity was
remarkable, as usual. But after the shock had worn off, there
had been a light in the man's eyes and warmth in his voice that
Obi-Wan hadn't expected. The Master Obi-Wan remembered would
never have absolved his Padawan's actions so quickly. Of
course, Qui-Gon wasn't his Master anymore.
"Where is my Master?"
This was not the man he'd left eight years ago. This was an
entirely different creature altogether. Warm. Forgiving.
Caring. All right, I'm not being fair. His Master had
been warm and caring, but always with that aura of cool
reserve. Obi-Wan stopped pacing and sat on the steps leading
into the Administration Building. He hadn't reacted well at
all, especially by storming out of the house. The evening had
been going well enough. Well, not great. Retelling that story
brought back more than one negative emotion. Obi-Wan had
started to feel he was on display somewhere with a sign
underneath that read "Prodigal Padawan." Everybody's attention
had been so intense. Obi-Wan felt they had all been watching to
see if this time he would finally come unhinged.
Well, maybe he was crazy. Maybe confronting too many demons
from his past had finally caused him to lose his mind. He
wasn't feeling particularly calm and together right now. How
is it that I have one simple conversation with the man, a
conversation I've rehearsed about a thousand times, and now I'm
batty? That's how he felt. His heart was racing and some
voice in his head kept whispering, "Too close, too close." He
wanted to just shut down now, not go back, not have to look
into those all too forgiving eyes again and feel himself start
to lose control. This was not how this was supposed to happen.
Tomorrow, he would give him a tour of the village, explain why
the Temple should be built here, and show him some possible
sites. Not him, them. He has a Padawan now.
A Padawan, and a young one at that. There was something about
this boy. Something made Obi-Wan want to hold the child and
push him away at the same time. He seemed a sweet child, if a
little unsure of himself. Too bad there wouldn't be enough time
to get to know him. To figure out why Qui-Gon took another
Padawan. He started laughing at himself, an empty sound. Oh
and that burns you, doesn't it? I left. I'm the one that left
and created a new life for myself and I'm jealous because he
took another Padawan? That's sick, Kenobi. And completely
selfish. Best you stay away from the boy altogether, before you
taint him.
There wouldn't be time for any of that because Qui-Gon Jinn and
his Padawan would be leaving at the soonest possible moment.
Whether or not the Jedi would build their Temple here was
irrelevant. Citharin was managing to survive this long; it
would continue to do so. There was always something that could
be done. Something he could do.
Not feeling any more settled Obi-Wan headed home to a night of
sleeplessness.
Qui-Gon had gotten up with the sun to meditate. It helped to
calm him somewhat after a night of disturbing dreams in which
Obi-Wan stood before him looking as he had at eighteen, but
with the same scars on his face he had now. There was blood
pouring from his hands, which he held before him while
pleading, "Why did you not come after me, Master?" He was able
to release his guilt into the Force, accepting that he couldn't
change the past and was now staring again at a complete
stranger.
Obi-Wan was all business. "Master Jinn, I was thinking we would
check out some of the possible Temple sites first before it
gets too hot. Then, if you like, we can tour the village.
There's also a Council meeting after mid-meal that you and
Padawan Skywalker are welcome to attend. I'm sure they might
have some questions for you." Obi-Wan said all this serving
himself food while not meeting anyone's eyes.
Qui-Gon then knew this wasn't Obi-Wan talking to him. This was
the Ahj, playing his diplomatic role. Politely, if not coldly.
"That sounds like an appropriate schedule, Obi-Wan,"
deliberately using his name, "though it does seem a bit rushed.
Are you trying to get rid of us?" Qui-Gon tried to keep his
tone light and received the reaction he'd hoped for when
Obi-Wan looked straight at him.
The younger man said nothing, though.
"We need to take the recyclables to the transport speeder
before we do anything," Finn spoke up. "Tomorrow's trading day
and we have quite the pile-up here."
"What's trading day?" Anakin asked.
"We have established friendly trading relations with some
merchants from nearby planets. Once a month, several traders
come to push what they have, and we push what we have.
Hopefully, we all end up with what we need. Supplies, food,
spices." Finn shrugged. "Mostly personal items."
"Tomorrow is for household trading. Tristan usually handles any
trading for the Colony off-planet," Obi-Wan further explained.
"Any trading or sales brought by our crops takes place at
Agri-Centers throughout the system. Proceeds are then put into
sustaining the Colony, with some profits re-distributed to the
people."
"Do you not receive any trouble from individual farmers,
wanting more than is their fair share?" Qui-Gon was curious as
to the workings of this close-knit community.
"All arrangements were made by the council, the three tribe
leaders, with the explicit approval of all adult Citharin
living within the village," Obi-Wan answered evenly before he
got up from the table and started gathering sacks full of
clinking metal together.
"Master, can I help?"
"Of course, Anakin, if the Ahj could use it."
Obi-Wan, turning his head sharply at the use of his title,
nodded his assent. Anakin helped gather together two large and
four smaller sacks and followed Obi-Wan out the door. Qui-Gon
returned to his morning meal in silence.
"What does everybody do with all this stuff?" Anakin was
huffing to keep up with Obi-Wan before the taller man slowed
down.
"Tools, spare parts, sculpture, I don't really know. Somebody
always wants it, though. And Finn and I get what we need in
return."
Anakin was silent for a moment. As soon as the large transport
speeder came in sight, he spoke up, "Can I ask you a question,
Ahj Kenobi?"
"Only if you call me Obi-Wan."
"Well, Obi-Wan," shy now, "can I ask you about when you were
Master Qui-Gon's Padawan?"
Obi-Wan paused, and then loaded the two large sacks in the back
of the vehicle. "What do you want to know?"
"Did he let you do stuff for him? Like packing and making tea
and stuff?"
"Let me? It was pounded into my brain from my first initiate
days what was expected of Padawans. Why?"
"Well...I try to do stuff for him, but he won't let me. He says
it's not required, but it is, isn't it?"
"You're not his servant, Anakin. It just makes it easier for
him to take care of the big matters when you can take care of
the details. Right now that's making his meals and packing for
missions and keeping the quarters clean. Later it could mean
writing reports, scheduling. All manner of things."
Anakin handed Obi-Wan the last bag and chewed his lip for a
moment. Obi-Wan waited for him to speak.
"It's probably because I was a slave." Anakin's voice grew
quiet.
Obi-Wan crouched down and touched the boy's arm. "You were a
slave?"
Anakin nodded. "Master Qui-Gon found me and said I could be a
Jedi. He even told the council he would train me without their
approval, since they didn't want me. Nobody wants me there, at
the Temple. I think I'm doing everything right. But I must keep
doing something wrong, because they say I don't belong."
Anakin's voice was barely above a whisper now. "The other
Padawans. They don't like me too much. They say I'm weird. And
they say mean things about Master, too."
Fighting a surge of anger at that remark, Obi-Wan relaxed his
hold on Anakin's arm and lightly touched his chin, forcing the
boy's eyes to meet his. "Have you talked to your Master about
this?"
"No. It would just upset him more."
More? "He is your Master, it is his duty to look after
you. I know if you have anything that's bothering you, you have
to tell him. You can't hide it from him. And you certainly
can't lie to him."
"Would you? Tell him?" The voice held some hope.
"Anakin, I don't know if that's the best idea. Right now your
Master and I-"
Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan's hand, "I know you're having trouble
and I know you don't like him being here, but I also know you
still like him and he likes you and-"
"Hold on," Obi-Wan couldn't help but laugh a little at the
eager rush of words. He looked into the boy's eyes. "You can
sense things like that, can't you? Sense things about other
people that maybe they're hiding?" At the boy's reluctant nod
he continued, "So you're sensing a lot of bad feelings from the
other Padawans?"
"And some of the Knights and Masters, the Council members..."
"It's really that bad?"
"Yes, and I hate it there!" At that Anakin threw himself into
Obi- Wan's arms while he tried not to cry. Obi-Wan
automatically started to soothe the trembling boy while working
over everything he'd just heard. An earlier comment replayed
itself.
He gently pushed the small boy away to look again in his face.
"Anakin, how is it exactly Master Jinn found you?"
"Well, it's kind of a long story."
"Perhaps you can tell me the abbreviated version on the way
back. We need to get going." Obi-Wan started walking back to
the house, stopped suddenly, and sighed, "And I'll think about
talking to your Master."
They headed back to the house, Anakin's hand tucked into
Obi-Wan's. He had almost reached the end of the tale as they
were walking through the door, "And even though he was hurt
real bad, Master Qui- Gon killed the Sith, but I didn't know it
because I was trapped in the fighter and I accidentally blew up
the droid control ship, but that was a good thing 'cause the
Gungans..."
Obi-Wan steered Anakin towards the common room and stopped
short when he saw Qui-Gon sitting with Finn, their heads
suspiciously close.
"Telling secrets about me," he called out, interrupting both
Anakin and the conversation on the couch.
"Now Obi, you know you have no secrets," Finn joked back, "not
from me, anyway."
He looked over at Qui-Gon, who had pulled Anakin over to him.
"You killed a Sith?"
"Now who's telling secrets?" Qui-Gon smiled at his apprentice.
"Those aren't secrets, Master. They're a matter of Naboo public
record."
Obi-Wan sighed. Something was tugging at his memories, but he
didn't have time now to ponder it. "We need to get going if we
want to be back by mid-meal. And I personally don't want to
face the Council on an empty stomach," this with a wink to
Anakin, who giggled. He wanted to learn more about the Sith,
but reminded himself that the opportunity probably wouldn't
present itself before Qui-Gon left. He made a mental note to
pursue this knowledge later and steeled himself for the coming
day.
The morning passed with little conversation except various
comments Obi-Wan or Finn offered about each spot as they
stopped. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to study the planet's
topography. The miles of lavender-yellow hued canyons and
towering mountains served to break the monotonous sea of
hard-packed red dirt that stretched beyond the scope of vision
allowed by the speeder's position low to the ground. The air
was imbued with a stillness that occurred on planets with
little atmospheric change. The temperature was hot, but not
oppressive and the nights cooled considerably. There were
weather patterns here, Qui-Gon had read, but they usually
consisted of swift, violent storms that passed quickly and left
flooding and destruction in their wake. He was curious to see
how Obi-Wan mined the underground water caverns to irrigate the
community's extensive crops.
Qui-Gon was also anxious to tour the village. There existed
here an odd mixture of technology and primitivism. The report
about the planet described an almost subsistence-level
existence, but the technology used to survive here had to be
top of the line. Obi-Wan had always possessed high mechanical
skills that, when used in a pinch, had saved the two of them on
several missions. Qui-Gon knew, however, that part of the
reason this planet had never been colonized was because it was
considered uninhabitable. The Republic Search Committee had
determined that the cost of the necessary level of technology
was too high to use this planet even as a refugee settlement.
It was part of a small system that was considered out of the
way, with only one Republic planet, and that one was suspect.
L'Esthin had been admitted to the Republic before the Senate
had established more stringent standards. Its proximity to
several non- Republic planets, combined with the resources
gained form its membership, made it a haven for those engaging
in illegal businesses.
Qui-Gon knew Yoda would be awaiting his initial report and was,
in fact, probably impatient to hear from him. He had no idea
what to tell his former Master. Obi-Wan was proving to be a
study in contradiction and the very circumstances of this
planet's survival cast a questionable air about him. Qui-Gon
also realized that just knowing the facts behind the false
identity and faked death were not enough. This man had been his
Padawan, someone he had trusted with his life. Qui-Gon would
have to make sure to say just the right things in his report to
extend his stay as much as possible. Yoda had been fond of his
Obi-Wan, but was also suspicious by nature. If Qui-Gon were to
give any impression that Obi-Wan might be involved in something
unsavory, Yoda would insist that either he leave or other Jedi
get involved. Qui-Gon wanted neither. Contradictory or not,
Obi-Wan had once been the most important person in his life and
he was not going to allow others to interfere. Yet.
They made one last stop before heading back. Obi-Wan had
started at the site farthest from the village, so this one
proved to be the closest. It differed from the others
dramatically, due to the towering mountain that dominated the
area. Obi-Wan stopped the speeder.
"We call this the Mountain of Mystery. If I were to pick a
location for a Jedi Temple, it would be here." Obi-Wan's voice
was quiet, almost reverent.
"Why is that?" Qui-Gon studied the high peak. Lack of water and
wind erosion had kept the surface full of crags.
"As you can imagine, when Tris and I were deciding where on the
planet to start the settlement, we had a difficult time. We
knew that no area was going to be ideal. We were just looking
for the least prohibitive spot." Obi-Wan scrubbed his hands
through his long hair and laughed ruefully.
"So what happened?"
"I had a vision of this mountain. I had never seen it before,
but I saw it perfectly in my mind, down to the fissures on the
eastern side. So we looked for the mountain and settled on the
largest piece of farmable land near by."
"You want the Jedi to settle here because of your vision of a
mountain?" Qui-Gon found that hard to believe. Obi-Wan had
shown little interest in any prescient elements of the Force in
the past, enjoying more the physical aspects.
Now Obi-Wan looked irritated. "No, I want the Jedi to settle
here because of what's inside the mountain."
Qui-Gon could sense the calming waves Finn was sending in her
surrogate father's direction. He wondered if that was her
primary job, keeping Obi-Wan from straying too far into anger.
Obi-Wan pushed off the hand patting his shoulder and jumped out
of the speeder. Finn sighed and followed him out, gesturing at
the two remaining to join her.
"We have no idea why no one's discovered this before," she
explained. "I can only assume there's some quality to the ore
that resists scanning. We never would have found it if Obi-Wan
hadn't been so obsessed with discovering why the Spirits called
him to it."
As the group approached the entrance Obi-Wan had already
entered, Qui- Gon felt a resonance of the Force emanating from
the mountain.
"Who are the Spirits?" Anakin asked.
Finn smiled down at him. "What you call the Force, people of
Citharin call the Spirits. We were never taught about the
Force, even though most of us can feel it and even work with
it. We were taught that the Spirits gifted certain of us, but
to abuse those gifts was a challenge to Them." The girl
shrugged. "Of the four tribes, fewer Tanth are gifted,
therefore their leaders used our beliefs to hold those of us
with gifts back from our true potential."
Qui-Gon was confused, "But Obi-Wan's parents brought him to the
Temple."
"Yes, and they were among the first to be enslaved for
'insulting' the Spirits when the Tanth came to power. Obi-Wan
told us that if even half of us had been aware of what we were
capable of, the Tanth would never have been able to enslave and
control us as they had."
Qui-Gon mentally reviewed the data he had re-read the night
before. "I thought the Tanth uprising was about economic power,
not religious persecution."
They had entered a crevice in the mountainside. Light from the
outside still filtered in at this point, but further was pitch
black. Finn stopped at the entrance, stooped to pick up a light
torch sitting on the ground, then turned to Qui-Gon.
"Isn't the first step in a quest for power of any kind to
pinpoint certain members of a population and separate them from
the rest? The persecution you are referring to was just the
starting point. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan's parents didn't hide
fast enough as my father and others had, and an example was
made of their eventual execution."
Suddenly, out of the murky depths of the tunnel they all heard,
"Are you coming, or what!"
Finn yelled back, "Coming!" She rolled her eyes at Qui-Gon, "He
was always this impatient, wasn't he?"
Qui-Gon didn't bother answering her question, just nodded while
he recalled their earlier conversation, the one that Obi-Wan
and Anakin interrupted. Finn had asked him questions about
Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. But not the ones he was expecting.
She seemed more curious about the physical and educational
aspect of his time at the Temple. Eventually, the conversation
had turned to what Obi-Wan had been like as a child, but then
the two had returned.
Qui-Gon touched her arm briefly to get her attention. "There's
so much I do not know about your culture and history. I think
it would help me to better understand things. Will you help
me?"
Finn didn't even bother asking what 'things' Qui-Gon was
talking about before giving her assent. She turned and led the
Jedi into the cave. The air became cooler the farther inward
they walked. The path was narrow, forcing the group to walk
single file. Qui-Gon pushed Anakin between himself and Finn. He
had been handed a light torch, but was able to make his way to
Obi-Wan by extending his Force sense outward. It wasn't Obi-Wan
he was able to perceive-- the young man was too tightly
shielded from him --but the aura of the cave. It exuded a
definite Force signature that grew stronger with each step
taken. They ended up in a rounded open space, Obi-Wan waiting
for them.
The walls of the cave sang with the Force, giving off nuances
that echoed of dancing light caught moments too late. Raising
the light torch, Qui-Gon could see ribbons of silvery light
veined in the cavern walls.
"What is it?" he asked.
"We don't know." Obi-Wan walked around the cavern, skirting the
edge while running his hand over the wall reverently. "Amazing,
isn't it?"
Anakin stepped up to a wall and traced one of the veins with
his finger. He cocked his head to one side as if listening to a
far away voice. His expression was full of wonder. He placed
the flat of one hand on the wall and closed his eyes. Qui-Gon
left him alone until he noticed the boy was swaying in place.
"Padawan?"
"Yes Master," the boy whispered.
"What are you feeling?"
"The Force, Master, it...it's moving in me."
Obi-Wan kneeled in front of the boy. "Almost as if every cell
in your body is vibrating?"
"You feel it that way too?" Anakin's voice sounded relieved.
"You probably feel it stronger than I do; your Force sense is
much greater than mine."
"I've never felt it like this before."
Obi-Wan took Anakin's hands in his own. "Come to the center
with me and just breathe deeply. You almost feel like you're
expanding in every direction."
As his two Padawans stood in the center of the cave, hands
joined, Qui-Gon followed their example and placed his hand on
the cave wall. He could detect a faint buzzing under his
fingertips, nothing to the degree that Obi-Wan and Anakin
described. He held his hand just above the surface and walked
around the perimeter of the cave. The vibrations were strongest
around the veins that glowed dully in the torchlight. He wanted
to ask questions, but the sight of this moment occurring
between his current and former Padawans silenced him. He
continued his visual survey until the two parted.
"Have you mined any of it?"
Obi-Wan's voice was less hushed, but more serene as he
answered, "A little. We have determined that it is metallic in
nature, difficult to manipulate, and definitely Force-enhanced"
That much he could guess, but, "How do you mean?"
"A demonstration is necessary by way of explanation. Meet me in
the training room after dinner and I'll show you."
Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon consider for a moment, and then nod his
head. This has always been one of his favorite places and he
would have loved to spend the rest of the afternoon here. The
only time he could truly sit in quiet contemplation, the
closest he ever came to meditation anymore, was in this cave.
There was too much to accomplish to linger, though. When he
gave the order for them to return, he wasn't able to keep the
regret from coloring his voice. He walked ahead of the group,
not wanting to meet anyone's eyes yet. With his Force-sense
heightened by the mountain, Obi-Wan was able to anticipate
Qui-Gon's hesitant touch to his arm and resisted flinching from
the contact.
"I would like to return here tomorrow and study this place some
more."
He answered, "Of course, Master Jinn. I'll make sure a speeder
is made available to you." Something inside of him recoiled
from the thought of losing this space to Jedi scholars, but he
knew this was his trump card. This will bring the Jedi here,
and Citharin to the Republic.
"The more I learn, the clearer my report to the Council will
be."
Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose at the mention of the report, but he
didn't comment. Instead, he shuffled the two Jedi ahead of him
onto the path to sunlight and heat.
Obi-Wan remained quiet during mid-meal and observed the chatter
surrounding him. Qui-Gon and Finn had hit it off in the last
day, though he was reluctant to admit this pleased him.
Anakin also appeared more relaxed since their exchange this
morning. Obi-Wan wondered if the time in the cave had calmed
him. He was still unsure about whether or not to bring up with
Qui-Gon his conversation with the boy. The misery radiating off
the apprentice had been so palpable, Obi-Wan could taste it. He
didn't know why this boy's circumstances were so different from
his own as a young Padawan. Only that Anakin had been found
late and had a lot of catch- up work to do, coupled with a very
powerful Force aura. Obi-Wan doubted that his comments would be
welcome. He was not Qui-Gon's friend, nor was he a Knight,
giving advice to his former Master. He was something undefined.
Yet Qui-Gon appeared to want to develop some sort of
relationship with him. Why can't I grant him that?
Obi-Wan had to finally admit he was a little pleased to have
Qui-Gon here. At first, he thought he was just content to be
able to show his Master that he had succeeded in some small
way. He wanted to show off the village, its growing community
of people and how much effort everyone put into keeping it
going. The tour this afternoon would prove how special this
place is. But he now knew some part of him was just happy to
see Qui-Gon, although he was a little distressed to see him
looking so tired and aged. His Master had always looked much
younger than his years, but now those years seemed to be
catching up to him. There was more silver in his hair and
pronounced wrinkles around his eyes. Yet he still moved with
the natural grace that infused his every motion. Even rising
from the table to grab some more bread, he appeared to glide
effortlessly.
Obi-Wan always used to compare himself to his Master. He had
known he would never be as tall, or as distinguished in
appearance. Seeing the older man again reminded him of the many
times he had tried to emulate him, tried to walk into a room
with that same manner of unconscious authority, or assume that
air of implacability. He knew then it would take a lot of work,
but now he was fully aware that it would never happen. Obi-Wan
has since developed his own way of walking into a room, and
worked hard to contain his many competing emotions beneath a
facade of neutrality. He usually failed. Watching the man he
had admired so reminded Obi-Wan of all he had once wanted to
be, but he refused to sink into melancholy. What he was
attempting here was right. Obi-Wan tried to push aside his
doubts and disjointed fears from the night before. Silly
Padawan, there is no try. He laughed quietly.
Obi-Wan joined in at the end of a conversation about the most
common rodents of Citharin II. When he did, Qui-Gon looked at
him, surprise evident on his face. Unlike last night, Obi-Wan
was relieved to see the smile on the older man's face. One of
those rare smiles that used to make him feel that the universe
contained only the two of them. In a split second, before he
could second-guess his actions, Obi-Wan caged the frightened
beast within and smiled back. Yes, he had to admit, he was
somewhat happy to be with the man again. Plus, being friendly
could only help his cause.
"The Council is meeting in fifteen minutes. We should get
going," he interrupted.
Qui-Gon was pleased to see a return of the good humor Obi-Wan
had only shown glimpses of last night. He wished they didn't
have to go to the Council meeting so he could take advantage of
this moment. He hoped the mood would last. But, taking into
account earlier comments made about the Council of Citharin, he
doubted it.
In walking to the Council chambers, Qui-Gon was able to get a
clearer idea of how the area was set up. His ship had landed at
the docking bay at what now appeared to be the North side of
the settlement. Obi- Wan's house was near where he had landed,
on the outer-most ring of a series of oval-shaped rings of
adobe homes. Each home had sufficient space for a garden and
smaller outbuildings. Walking toward the center of town,
Qui-Gon saw many of the villagers as they returned to their
different modes of work after their mid-meal. Each person they
passed greeted Obi-Wan warmly, some calling him by name, some
referring to his title. Most of these people looked at Qui-Gon
and Anakin with open curiosity. The general sense of the
community was positive, but wary. Obi-Wan, in turn greeted
everyone with equal warmth. No one tried to detain him, knowing
that the Council was meeting, but some requested his presence
at his earliest convenience. The young leader promised them all
time. Finn dropped out of the group, using this time to check
on several patients under treatment.
The Council met in the small domed Administration building in
the center of the town. The building was made out of the same
adobe-like material as the homes and most of the other
structures in the village. In the town center itself were some
newer-looking facilities constructed from modern metals, glass
and plasticrete.
As the trio walked through the hall leading into the meeting
room, Qui-Gon could not help the slight sense of trepidation he
felt. He was sure news had already spread about his previous
relationship to Obi-Wan and knew any impression gained from
this scrutiny of him would reflect on the Governing Ahj. They
walked into a cylindrical room to directly face a semi-circle
of nine pairs of eyes.
To his left, there were three separate chairs. Elya Fenks, the
Ahja of Zaron and Tristan Trevin, the Ahj of Gallan were
already seated. The third waited for Obi-Wan, who instead
stepped up to a waist-high structure made from tiny
multi-colored pieces of glass. Atop the structure, a five-sided
shield held a green flame within. Obi-Wan placed his hands over
the flame while murmuring quietly, then stepped back to stand
beside Qui-Gon and Anakin.
A councilor with black hair spoke up. "Take your seat Ahj
Kenobi, so that we may begin."
"I stand as the Petitioner, honored Councilor, and am here to
introduce the Jedi Ambassador, Master Qui-Gon Jinn." Obi-Wan's
voice held a slight note of defiance, as if he expected to be
challenged. Qui-Gon wondered if his former apprentice held as
much a reputation with this Council as his former Master did
with the Jedi Council.
"You've made your introduction, now please sit."
Obi-Wan remained standing. "I stand as the Petitioner."
A councilor of imposing size with a kind expression stared
steadily at the young man. "We understand that you requested
the Jedi presence, but your petition has been heard already.
Your duty here is as the Ahj of Keth."
"The Ahj of Keth is not present at these proceedings. I stand
before you as a citizen of Citharin."
If Obi-Wan had spoken to the Jedi Council in this manner, he
would have been dressed down immediately and reprimanded. This
Council seemed to almost respect Obi-Wan's forwardness. Qui-Gon
could see how Obi-Wan had commanded such respect. His sense of
duty was to the people of this community, not to a body
politic. A heavy quiet descended before acceptance was voiced.
"Very well, you may stand as the Petitioner."
At that, Obi-Wan stepped back so that Qui-Gon and Anakin stood
before the Council alone. Qui-Gon was unsure as to what to say
to open a discussion, so he allowed the enforced instinct honed
from over forty years of diplomacy to take over.
"Greetings to the Honored Council of Citharin, Ahj Trevin, Ahja
Fenks," at each mention, he bowed. "I am Qui-Gon Jinn and this
is Anakin Skywalker. I thank you for offering us your time and
welcome any questions you might have for us." He would answer
their questions honestly, but he would be damned before he
would try to sell the Jedi to a group of people who had been
taught the Jedi Order was made up of mind-warping wizards.
Similarly, he wasn't going to give the doubtful audience a
magic show to impress them of his abilities.
The questions were not offensive, but were indicative of the
suspicion these people had about the Jedi. Obi-Wan had most
likely done much to curb the more extreme views here, if only
through his actions during the resistance. Qui-Gon wondered
what Obi-Wan's answers had been to these questions. He
patiently explained the creche, the initiate training program,
and the apprentice choosing process. Anakin was even able to
answer a few questions about his training and what it entailed.
He found it odd that the interest was concentrated on the
academic and training aspect of the Jedi life, not the
ambassadorial. Qui-Gon wondered what Obi-Wan was plotting.
There had been talk about opening up a secondary Teaching
Temple away from Coruscant, but it had been no more than idle
speculation. How his former apprentice had heard this gossip
was of great interest to him.
Throughout the questioning, he was able to feel out some of the
opinions of the people gathered. His instincts about Tristan
Trevin were correct. The man radiated mistrust of the Jedi, but
Qui-Gon was unable to draw him out enough to pinpoint what --if
anything specific-- bothered him. A few seemed genuinely
interested. Still others, such as Elya Fenks, he could read
nothing from at all. Qui- Gon didn't know how Obi-Wan had
managed to convince the Council to approve this audience, but
he must have been quite influential.
When the questions ended Obi-Wan stepped up again to stand
beside the Jedi. "As the Petitioner, I thank the Council of
Citharin for their time and effort."
"As we thank the Jedi Ambassador for his patience."
Qui-Gon realized that this was the end of the proceedings. He
bowed and thanked the Council and the two Tribal leaders before
turning to follow Obi-Wan out the door.
"Ahj Kenobi," Elya Fenks stopped them. "We do have another
matter to discuss."
Obi-Wan turned with an eyebrow cocked. Qui-Gon moved to keep
going, but a look from the younger man made him stop to wait.
"The Council has approved my application for a loan from the
coffers to be used in establishing a business for one of my
Tribes people." The Ahja's voice rang clearly in the small
room, her tone bordering on imperious.
Obi-Wan looked momentarily confused, and then schooled his
features quickly. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage,
Ahja Fenks. The last count of the coffers revealed little money
left for further ventures this quarter."
"Our audit showed a substantial enough amount for a small
restaurant." The young woman smiled at the Council. "The
Council knows how important it is for the people of these lands
to start business ventures of their own and become more
financially independent."
"Perhaps next quarter, Ahja, we will consider it, but as you
know, this quarter's profits were slated for the construction
of an infirmary." Obi-Wan's expression remained impassive, but
the glint in his eyes spelled certain trouble.
"And as you well know, my Ahj, that decision was reached when I
was unable to attend the meeting. In discussion with the Ways
and Means Committee, I found that you neglected to move through
the proper channels to obtain approval." Elya's voice was as
smooth as polished steel.
"The Council approved my petition, the application was placed
before the Committee before I ever brought it here"
"You did not, however, await my approval as the Chair of the
Committee before approaching the Council."
"You were off-planet until the deadline for applications. With
all due respect, Elya, I can't help but feel this borders on
Tribal favoritism." Obi-Wan had given up on impassivity at this
point, opting instead for studied exasperation.
"There is no favoritism in the Council's approval! Approval I
received after moving through the correct application process.
A process, I'm beginning to think, you feel you're exempt
from."
"We need an infirmary. I thought everyone agreed that we need a
centralized place for healing. Sometimes Finn and the Berra
twins wear themselves out running from home to home."
"We also need more established businesses to accommodate these
off- worlders you insist on hosting. And if the Jedi settle
here, we need to have more amenities than some trader's bar by
the hangar."
At this point, the rest of the council was forgotten as Obi-Wan
and Elya had turned and were speaking directly at each other.
No one else interfered. The nine Council members and remaining
Tribal leader were only watching coolly.
"Those same reasons are valid for the establishment of an
infirmary, as well." Obi-Wan's voice was rising.
"It has also come to my attention that many more members of the
Tribe of Keth hold independent businesses than other tribes. I
am only trying to balance the scales."
"But an infirmary wouldn't be a Tribal business. It would be a
vital aid for the entire community. We don't even have a bacta
tank here and second harvest is approaching."
A Council member interrupted, "The Council has decided that
set-up and maintenance of an infirmary is too cost-prohibitive
at this juncture. Our healers have already made statements to
the effect that the travel time from home to home has yet to be
a detriment to their work."
Obi-Wan turned to look in turn at each person in the room. "So
the decision has already been made, has it?"
Tristan Trevin spoke up in a soft voice. "We didn't conspire
against you, Obi-Wan. We're not leaving you out of the
discussion, either. Much time was spent in private session
considering every option. I apologize for any difficulty you
are having accepting this outcome."
Obi-Wan turned and bowed slightly to the Ahj. "I'm sure you put
a great deal of thought into this, Ahj Trevin." His dismissal
of the rest of the Council and of the Ahja did not go
unnoticed, but then again, that had probably been his
intention. "Of course, I bow to the will of the Council. If you
see that as the best course of measure, I have no argument to
sway you. Now, if there is nothing else, I promised our guests
a tour of the village." With that, Obi- Wan bowed deeply to the
room, turned and walked out. Qui-Gon and Anakin barely had time
to bow as well and follow him.
They caught up with a muttering Obi-Wan outside the building.
Qui- Gon didn't need to use the Force to see the man was
furious. Before anyone could speak, the voice of Elya Fenks
caught their attention.
"Obi-Wan, you must understand."
Obi-Wan whirled around to face her with his full wrath. "Oh, I
understand fully, Elya. I understand that an agreement was
reached without my input and after I had been assured-"
Elya interrupted in return, "You were assured nothing that was
permanent. The Council told you it would consider using the
funds for your infirmary. A venture, I might add, which even by
my most conservative estimates would have drained us of all our
profits!"
"My infirmary? My infirmary? I have no proprietary measures on
the good health of our people. And I have nothing personal to
gain from its construction."
"While I refuse to sit in there and be accused of Tribal
favoritism in front of the Council."
"No? What of other peoples' applications for funds, Elya? Did
you even bother to look at Sor-Ban's request for funds to build
his inn? Or how about Letti's insistence that the school must
expand and someone needs to be sent off world for training,
or-"
The heated voices of the combatants were suddenly silenced by a
sharp sound. All four heads turned toward the noise to see
Trevin standing on the steps of the Administrative building.
The sound repeated as he slapped down a flat stick that curved
at the end. Qui-Gon wasn't sure if it was a weapon or tool, but
the man looked like he could use it for either. When Trevin
spoke, it was in a tone of voice that brooked neither
interruption nor disagreement.
"Your argument is carrying all the way to the school. I for one
would like the children of this community to retain the respect
with which they view their leaders." He moved down the steps
and stopped halfway between Obi-Wan and Elya.
He turned to Obi-Wan, partially turning his back on the Zaron
woman, and spoke gently. "All applications for loans are
considered thoroughly by the entire Council, as you well know,
my Ahj. You refused to be on the Ways and Means Committee
because you admitted how you hated turning anyone down." At
Obi-Wan's reluctant nod he continued, "Zora Hursts is receiving
a loan that she will pay back. An infirmary would place
considerable strain on our precarious resources right now. You
know as well as anyone we can't afford that at this point in
time. We did decide to increase the budget for medical
supplies. This might be small comfort, but we wish to take care
of our people as well."
Allowing his friend to calm him, Obi-Wan nodded once more, then
turned to Elya and bowed before he spoke. "My apologies, Ahja
Fenks, for my harsh words and accusations. Please let there be
peace between us as we face the task of leading this community
together."
Elya responded, murmuring, "My Ahj, of course there is peace,"
before turning and retreating back into the building. Qui-Gon
couldn't blame her hasty retreat. Obi-Wan's anger had been
enough to deal with, without the snubbing from Trevin.
Trevin watched her leave without expression before turning back
to the assembled group. "Now I have a group of unruly children
awaiting their favorite scatterball coach." He smiled at
Obi-Wan. "I hope they won't be too disappointed to see me
instead."
"Well, once you've had the best," Obi-Wan answered with a
tentative laugh. "I'll make it a point to stop by and make sure
they are minding you."
"Most likely you will have to rescue me from their clutches,"
the other man responded with mirth in his eyes. He turned to
Qui-Gon and Anakin. "Master Jinn, Padawan Skywalker, thank you
both for your honest and informative answers to the Council's
endless questioning. They can be quite...thorough."
"Oh, Master Jinn is more than a little accustomed to handling
thorough Council queries," Obi-Wan stated lightly. Qui-Gon felt
a hint of pleasure at the faint note of pride in the man's
voice.
"Well then, I see where Obi-Wan picked up his talent for
negotiation."
Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon and then quickly looked away. To
Qui-Gon, it seemed as if the younger man was about to say
something, but instead started examining the stick in Trevin's
hands. Before either man could comment, Trevin was bidding them
all good day, commenting on the impatience of youth. Obi-Wan
turned toward the center of the square, away from the
Administration building, and started walking. He looked back at
Qui-Gon and Anakin.
"Are you coming, or what?"
Qui-Gon resisted the urge to repeat Tristan's comment,
following Obi- Wan. The trek was silent for the most part.
Qui-Gon extended his senses outward and encouraged Anakin to do
the same. There weren't many buildings in the center of town.
Aside from the Administration Building, the largest structure
was a rock-circled enclosure with five spires of varying
heights within. The tallest of the spires was twice Qui-Gon's
height, the shortest came to Obi-Wan's shoulder. There seemed
to be no logical placing to the spires, which were black and
highly reflective. As they neared, Qui-Gon could see that each
column was actually five-sided instead of cylindrical, and
inscribed with carved symbols that traveled up and down the
length of each side. Anakin reached out a hesitant hand towards
the nearest one, looking at Obi-Wan.
"It's all right. You can touch them, they're only glass."
Obi-Wan's voice held a hint of returning humor. He reached out
one of his own fingers and lightly traced one of the symbols
close to him. "These are the Towers of Five Truths. Not exactly
towers, I know, but they each hold a special power."
Anakin looked at him. "I thought you said they were only
glass."
"Not that kind of power, Ani. Each tower represents one of the
Five Truths: Sun, Spirit, Water, Earth, Wind. Not much
different from most cultures, but the Citharin based their
system of written language on these Truths. Each written word
in our language is built upon the basis of one of these
symbols." With that Obi-Wan again traced the curved figure
closest to him, set about the middle of that spire and slightly
larger than the ones above and below it.
"This is the mark of Loyalty, one of the Five Principles. It is
built using the symbols for Sun and Spirit. Everything you see
carved above and below it are created using this symbol."
"The Five Principles?" Anakin sounded on the edge of annoyance.
Obi-Wan laughed. "Don't worry, Ani. I'm not going to test you
later. They're just terms we use to describe the development of
our culture and mores. Every society has them."
Qui-Gon spoke up then. "Five Truths, Five Principles.
Everything is in groups of five, I see."
"True," Obi-Wan answered.
"But there were always only four tribes of Citharin. Most
cultures base their mythology on familiar terms."
The younger man smiled. "Yes, but those same cultures will make
room for universal unknowns, their gods or goddesses, or forces
of nature that elude rational explanation."
"So four of the truths are based on the Tribes. The fifth,
Spirit, is the Citharin unknown."
Obi-Wan nodded eagerly. "It's really quite fascinating once you
start studying the language, seeing which words come from which
symbols."
"I would like to see that."
"Oh, I've got a dozen tomes in the library at the house. As the
Governing Ahj, I'm the keeper of the ancient tongue. In fact,
those books and the towers were the first things I made sure to
bring to safety."
"That's quite a risk to take for mere objects." Qui-Gon knew he
was taking a chance with Obi-Wan's restored good humor, but he
was more than a little curious about this new spiritual side of
his former apprentice.
"These 'mere objects,' as you call them are the foundation of
everything we believe in. In order to rebuild our lives, we
needed that foundation."
"You believe it, Obi-Wan?"
In response, Obi-Wan didn't just look at him; the man stared at
him as if challenged. His eyes spoke of years of alienation and
Qui-Gon almost couldn't stand looking into them anymore. They
were so remote to him. Those same flat, cold eyes he had seen
last night that held memories he would never hear of and pain
he couldn't heal. Suddenly, he felt he was somewhere he didn't
belong. Before he could retract his question, the direct gaze
flickered away.
"I don't know what I believe anymore." His voice so quiet, only
the stillness of the air around them afforded Qui-Gon the
chance to hear it. "But I do know that I am a part of this
community. More than that, I'm their leader. And as such I have
a duty to protect what they believe."
"In protecting it, you've grown to understand and appreciate
it." This Qui-Gon could identify with. He had spent many long
missions on strange planets, learning custom and history. With
that learning would come valuable comprehension that would
enrich his view of those cultures.
Obi-Wan moved so that he was standing in the center of the five
Towers. He raised his arms until they were perpendicular to his
body and turned in a slow circle. His eyes were closed and the
expression on his face was almost as peaceful as it had been in
the cave earlier that day.
"I know that it is a beautiful, powerful, life-encompassing
system of belief. The complex simplicity of it awes me."
Qui-Gon was in awe as well, watching this spectacle. The late
sunlight gilded the younger man's hair, his slow turns creating
shifting shadows on the ground and glassine towers. His head
tilted to one side, Obi-Wan reached one hand out to brush his
fingertips against each tower as he turned, murmuring the names
of each as he touched them.
"Sun. Spirit. Water. Earth. Wind. Everything a person needs to
survive. We've survived on as little here, and our lives are
rich." He stopped turning at just the point to bring him
eye-to-eye with Qui- Gon. His eyes were once again flashing a
challenge. "Believing in this is no different than following a
set of rules just because some Jedi stated thousands of years
ago that it was the only set of rules to live by."
"You speak of the Jedi Code as if it were a set of arbitrary
ethics set down by one person to be blindly followed."
"Well, you've certainly treated the code as if it were
arbitrary, at times." Obi-Wan's expression was more curious
than challenging.
"Perhaps I have, in your view, but always with good reason,
Obi-Wan," he reminded the young man.
"Perhaps..." As the younger man's voice trailed off, Qui-Gon
felt a twisting of nostalgia, remembering similar debates that
used to fill their time between missions.
Before the discussion could continue, a shuffling sound caught
their attention as Anakin shifted from foot to foot. Obi-Wan
knelt on one knee before the boy, laughing. "This isn't what
you expected when I promised you a tour of the village, is it,
young Padawan?"
Anakin started, abashed that his discomfort had been
recognized. "No, it's okay, really."
"Nonsense. Your Master and I can debate ethics at the house.
Though," at this he leaned in with an eyebrow raised, "if
you're very lucky, we might run into someone else that doesn't
care for my opinions and you can see me argue once more today."
He laughed again and took the young apprentice's hand in his as
he led the way out of the center of the village. Qui-Gon
followed chagrined by the swiftly shifting turns of Obi-Wan's
mood.
The town was less visibly populated than it had been earlier.
Qui- Gon took the opportunity to examine the area for every
nuance and felt the strong pulses of the Force that emanated
from every household. This was truly a community of
Force-blessed people, he realized, each person's talents
varying in degree and abilities. Obi- Wan explained the
breakdown of responsibilities based on these strengths.
Regardless of ability, everyone put their efforts into keeping
the community running smoothly. The main focus of which was a
crop rotation that centered on tobacco, grains and legumes.
There was also a small crop of desert-friendly flowers, with
tiny purple blossoms and blue-green leaves. Obi-Wan explained
that the grains and legumes were mostly for local consumption,
the tobacco for trade. The Manya lilias were only used for
local ritual and decoration.
Due to the importance of the crops, there were very few private
businesses. There was a bar and a small inn near the hangar,
both of which were frequented by visiting traders. Qui-Gon
could see that those businesses were already filling up in
preparation of the coming trading day.
The hangar itself was the largest facility on the planet.
Inside there was an assortment of ships, speeders, transports,
shuttles, most bearing a series of interlocked symbols that
Qui-Gon recognized as the primary symbols Obi-Wan had just
shown them. Closer to the village proper were several small
businesses consisting mainly of dry goods stores and equipment
repair shops. Qui-Gon noted that there was no direct
competition between business owners, and that most business was
conducted on credit.
As the group made its way through the village, Qui-Gon noticed
more of the curious stares. No one seemed to want to engage
Obi-Wan directly in Qui-Gon's presence, but everyone responded
eagerly to their leader's greeting. Obi-Wan introduced everyone
they came into contact with, and Qui-Gon was pleased to see
that the wariness was directed mainly at him, not his
apprentice. This community valued its children above all else,
and extended to Anakin every courtesy. For his part, Anakin
responded with growing friendliness to these advances, a light
shining in his face Qui-Gon hadn't seen in quite some time. The
young apprentice even felt comfortable enough to let go of the
grip he had kept on Obi-Wan's hand throughout the tour.
Although Qui-Gon had wondered not more than once who was
actually comforting whom during the walk.
He was pleased that his Padawan and Obi-Wan had warmed to each
other. He didn't know if the bond was based on more than their
shared familiarity of him, or some quality they recognized in
each other as familial. Anakin had become more and more
withdrawn over the past year. Qui-Gon attempted to breach his
unusual quiet, but the boy had insisted that nothing more was
wrong than the strain of trying to catch up in his studies.
He did work hard at his education, excelling in both his Force
training and his classes at the Academy. Qui-Gon had accepted
his explanation for the moment, but feared that he was ignoring
something more serious. Quite possibly, though, the boy was
experiencing nothing more than the moodiness that hit at the
onset of puberty. The previously muted emotions seemed freer
here, and he and Obi-Wan were more at ease in each other's
company than either was alone with him right now. He quashed
the feeling of envy at this thought, not even willing to
examine it.
The party neared what appeared to be the largest building in
the village itself. Sounds of laughter, shrieking, and play
drifted over the late afternoon air. Classes were over for the
day and children of various ages and sizes ranged across a play
area. There were several adults present, keeping a watchful eye
over the variety of games. Obi-Wan led the two Jedi towards a
four-sided court, their progress impeded by groups of children
that would throw themselves at their young leader.
Qui-Gon noticed that, while the adults in the community
respected and liked Obi-Wan, most treated him with deference
and distance. The children however, expressed their utter
devotion to the young man by swarming over him with group hugs
and thousands of questions. Obi- Wan, overwhelmed by the sheer
mass of bodies climbing on him, subsided to the ground laughing
fully. It was a musical sound that Qui-Gon had not heard in
over eight years. It made his heart ache like the painful
pleasure attained when the mouth tastes something it has long
desired. The youngsters quickly took notice of Qui-Gon and
Anakin and started to settle down, but again Anakin was the
result of close scrutiny. Obi-Wan was able to stand, but held
onto one young boy who had wrapped himself around his neck and
waist. Still chuckling some, Obi-Wan hugged the boy to him and
bade the children to be still. As a group, they obeyed.
"As I've been trying to tell you all, this is Master Jinn and
Padawan Skywalker. They are here-" As soon as the words were
out of his mouth, the questions started.
"Are you really a Jedi Master?"
"Can you fly?"
"What's a Padawan?"
"Do you have secret pockets in your robe?"
"What color is your light saber?"
"Hold it." Obi-Wan threw his hands up, stopping the flow. He
looked around the circle of children with affection. The young
boy wrapped around his torso whispered something in his ear,
then peeked at Anakin before tucking his face in the man's
neck. Obi-Wan whispered something back, smiling.
"I know you all have questions, but you're going to have to
show Master Jinn that you can be patient and maybe he'll come
back when I teach you all. Right now, we're going to check out
the scatterball practice." He turned, ushering the Jedi ahead
of him through the now recalcitrant group. He turned back and
fixed one young boy of about three years with his mock glare.
"And Ged-Desi, I've told you before that Jedi do not fly!"
They turned again at the boy's giggle and walked towards what
Qui-Gon assumed to be the scatterball field. It was divided
into quadrangles, each corner holding a net. The purpose of the
game seemed to be to catch one of several brightly colored
balls on the curved and flattened end of the stick and,
depending which of the four colors the ball is, swing the stick
so that the ball landed in the appropriate net. There were two
teams of six players each, with alternate players ringing the
low wall, shouting encouragement. Teams contained both boys and
girls, ranging in age from ten to fifteen.
Standing on the sidelines, Tristan Trevin was calling out
instruction and praise to various players. Obi-Wan set the boy
down and clasped Tristan's shoulder. The boy immediately ran to
the Gallan leader and threw his arms around the man's thighs.
Tristan looked down at the boy laughing.
"So, you managed to get your friend to bring you over here?"
"I missed you, Daddy." The boy's voice was high-pitched and
musical. Qui-Gon guessed his age to be around four standard.
"And I suppose sharing your mother with all the other children
isn't good enough for you, eh?" In response, the boy just shook
his head, rubbing his nose against the tall man's thigh. Trevin
ran affectionate fingers through his son's golden brown hair.
"Did you meet our guests then, Ben?" The boy shook his head
again, but then pointed at Anakin.
"Daddy, he's a real Padawan." Getting over his shyness then, he
turned to Anakin and smiled at him. "I'm gonna be a Padawan,
too." At this, Obi-Wan cleared his throat loud enough to be
heard. Ben glanced up at the sound and in all seriousness
added, "Force willing."
Qui-Gon extended his senses to the boy and found that he was
indeed strong in the Force. When he swept over the play area he
discovered that many of the children were highly Force
sensitive. Sadly, most of those whose abilities could warrant
training were too old to be considered for the Academy. He
glanced at Anakin and knew that if not for his stubbornness and
Anakin's rare midichlorian count, his fate would have been the
same as these children.
Except that these children had been rescued from their
impending slavery. They appeared happy and well cared for. In
fact, when Qui- Gon probed some more, he found rudimentary
shielding present in all of the older children and most of the
younger ones. He recalled the earlier comment Obi-Wan made to
the children in the schoolyard and turned to the younger man.
"You're training them." A statement more than question.
Obi-Wan's ability at shielding had always been superior to most
Jedi apprentices. And with his experience teaching at the
Academy when time permitted, he would make excellent
instructor.
Obi-Wan inclined his head in assent. "When I have time. Letti
Trevin and I have established a program of instruction that
works. We are coming to an impasse with some of the older ones
though." At that he pointed to an adolescent boy sitting on the
ground across the field. He turned to Tristan. "He get kicked
out again?"
Tristan nodded. "He never gets angry about it, but he also
never changes his tune."
"He Force-shoved someone?"
"Talish Rev, during the second of the tri-games. Almost broke
his arm. We had to call Finn."
"I'll go talk to him. Excuse me, Master Jinn."
Obi-Wan headed around the field toward the punished boy.
Tristan turned to the Jedi Master and filled him in. "Brio,
over there, lets his anger and drive get the best of him every
time he plays. We don't allow the use of the Force during
games. It just wouldn't be fair to the ones that don't have the
same abilities."
"Obi-Wan has done very well with their training."
"True, but his training can only go so far. And some of the
children, like Brio, are getting older. We honestly don't know
what to do with them." The man suddenly smiled as he looked
over Qui- Gon's shoulder. "Meanwhile my son is pestering your
apprentice to no end. Ben!"
Qui-Gon glanced back and saw young Ben Trevin had convinced
Anakin to hold him and was playing with his braid while
chattering away about light saber colors. At his father's call,
the boy looked over at the two men and smiled a charming smile.
Qui-Gon could see that this boy was probably a village
favorite, and would make a fine Jedi diplomat one day.
"Your son is quite...gifted," Qui-Gon told the other man,
searching for the right words.
Trevin smiled. "Yes, the Spirits have blessed us with a fine
son."
"He desires to be Jedi?" Perhaps this was the source of the
Gallan man's dislike of the Jedi.
His expression darkening momentarily, Trevin looked at the Jedi
with an unreadable expression. "Yes," he answered after a
lengthy pause, "he has wanted nothing else for over two years.
I used to think that one so young could never be that focused."
A bitter laugh followed this.
"Do you blame Obi-Wan?" Really, he had no right asking such a
question, but more than his nosiness was driving this
conversation.
"I honestly used to. Maybe I still would, but Obi-Wan doesn't
encourage the obsession." A hard exhalation of breath punctured
his comments. "Look, Master Jinn, I don't have anything against
the Jedi as a whole. Spirits, if it weren't for Obi-Wan's
abilities, my son and his mother would both have died in
childbirth." At this, Trevin looked fully at Qui-Gon for the
first time.
"That must make it all the harder to consider giving him up to
the Academy for instruction." Qui-Gon understood this man's
pain. It was made more acute by the fact that his people's
numbers had so drastically dwindled.
"Funny, Obi-Wan told me that if the Jedi ever did make it here
to study the mountain, that they would be able to pick Ben out
in a heartbeat." A rueful laugh. "I thought he was actually
encouraging me to hide him, or something." He looked at his son
with longing in his eyes. "I don't even know where he gets it.
Letti's gifted--Obi- Wan says more than she realizes--but I'm
not."
"I'm sure that you have many gifts of your own that you've
passed on to your son, Ahj Trevin." He noticed that, unlike
Obi-Wan, this man didn't balk at the use of his title. He had
been born and raised to leadership and carried his authority
with an unconscious grace. These were fine qualities indeed to
pass on to a bright youngster.
Qui-Gon's attention wavered to where Obi-Wan stood at the other
side of the field. He had taken over the coaching, and as a
result, his face appeared the most relaxed he had seen in the
past day. His former Padawan had frequently volunteered to help
the initiates in their 'saber training classes. His joy of
athleticism carried itself over into any physical activity and
this was no exception. Qui-Gon didn't doubt that the younger
man played this game as well as he coached it.
He watched with pleasure as the boys and girls on the field
responded to their coach's instruction with tightly reigned
excitement. The Ahj of Gallan turned and watched with him as
Obi-Wan demonstrated a particular line of defense, including
even the punished Brio in his instruction. Qui-Gon's reverie
was interrupted by the Ahj's quiet voice.
"I don't know how he does it." The admiration in the other man
was unmistakable. "He and Letti both have this ability to
teach. Anytime I comment on it Obi-Wan just waves me off and
says if he's any good it's because of..." When the man's voice
trailed off, Qui- Gon looked at him, eyebrows raised. Trevin
grinned at him. "You," he continued. "He's said that if he has
any skill at teaching at all, it is because he had a good
teacher. And I must admit, Master Jinn, you were not at all
what I expected. When I realized who you were, I thought you
were going to be more like him."
Across from them, Obi-Wan's expression was beaming as he ran
the length of the field, shouting encouragement at one of the
players, waving his arms to indicate his meaning. The Jedi
Master stifled a chuckle as he watched the excitable display.
No, Obi-Wan was not the picture of Jedi serenity that he
himself was presenting. But there was a part of him that wanted
to stretch his legs and run alongside the younger man, shouting
out his own tips.
"As a diplomatic team, Obi-Wan and I spent much time in each
other's presence. I'm sure we influenced each other more than a
little. But we have also spent the last eight years apart." He
tried to keep the sadness out of his voice at this. He changed
tacks before melancholy could overtake him, addressing an
unfinished topic between himself and the man next to him.
"Ahj Trevin, I'm not going to steal your son away from you. If
you've heard rumors to that end, let me reassure you that
happens only in cases where a child's abilities have placed
them in danger from their own families." At the Ahj's silence,
he continued, "I must warn you, though, that Ben has only about
two more years during which he will be accepted for training.
After that, he will be considered too old."
"Two years," the other man breathed.
"That's the maximum," Qui-Gon answered, not unkindly.
Both men looked over at the pair of boys now behind them.
Anakin was still holding Ben, who had managed to convince him
to undo his Padawan braid. The younger boy was running his
fingers through the longer tuft of hair that started above his
apprentice's right ear. Noticing his Master's attention, Anakin
smiled and shrugged. Ben cut off chatting about the plants in
his garden and waved at both men. Qui-Gon felt the Force sing
around the boy in a melody of colors.
"Daddy, Anakin has a blue light saber like Obi-Wan used to."
When Anakin put the boy down he walked up to Qui-Gon and craned
his tiny neck to look up at him. "Did you ever see Obi-Wan's
light saber?"
Qui-Gon crouched down so he was eye level with the boy. "Yes. I
helped him build it."
"Was it blue like the sky?"
"Yes, it was exactly the color the sky is here at mid-day."
"He doesn't have it anymore." This was said in a mournful tone.
"He lost it before he came home from the Temple." Qui-Gon was
touched by Ben's compassion, as he was thrown by the curious
choice of words. He was caught off-guard by the next question.
"Why did Obi-Wan lose his light saber?"
The answer came from above and behind Qui-Gon as the 'lost'
light saber's owner spoke up. "Because only Jedi carry light
sabers, Ben, and I am no longer a Jedi."
Ben turned his attention to Obi-Wan. "So, you lost it on your
way to your house?"
"No, I left it with Master Jinn before I left the Temple on
Coruscant."
Qui-Gon made ready to stand up, but was held in place by the
boy's insistent gaze. "Did you keep it, Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon was unsure as to how to answer. He had meant to have
this conversation privately with Obi-Wan, but decided to grab
the circumstances handed to him. "Yes. I still have it,
actually." He didn't add that he had it with him, brought for
the express purpose of performing a private memorial to his
Padawan.
Ben, excited by this news, ran over to Obi-Wan and climbed up
his legs to be held. "Obi-Wan, can I see it? Can I see your
light saber?"
Obi-Wan looked into the boy's dancing eyes and chuckled. To
Qui-Gon, it sounded choked. "That light saber doesn't belong to
me anymore, little man." At the boy's scowl, he tugged on a
piece of soft hair. "Besides, if I've told you once, I've told
you a thousand times, there's more to being a Jedi Knight than
what color your 'saber blade is."
Qui-Gon could only watch the interplay between Obi-Wan and his
little friend. He wanted to apologize for furthering Ben's
interest, but realized that any more mention of light sabers
would be unwelcome. So, like the diplomat he was, he held his
tongue and looked serene as his former apprentice's attention
was completely wrapped up in the will of a small child.
"Obi-Wan, when am I going to have my lessons again?"
"Soon, little man, just a few days."
"Can I come over now? Finn said I could."
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Without consulting me? I don't
think so." Then he smiled. "Besides, your mother's invited all
of us over for night meal tomorrow."
"Can Anakin come too?"
"Of course Anakin's coming." He turned to the young apprentice.
"Anakin, does your Master lock you in your room at night, or
are you allowed to join us for a social call?"
Anakin laughed and moved to stand by his Master. Qui-Gon rested
his hand on the boy's shoulder and replied, "I believe I can
release Anakin for the evening so that he may join us."
Ben started chatting to Anakin about his toys and games until
his father scooped him out of Obi-Wan's arms. "Time to wash up
before night meal, my son. We're going to see everyone
tomorrow."
Ben leaned in to Obi-Wan one last time, giving him a quick kiss
and snuggle and waved to Anakin and Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon looked
around and noticed that all of the village children were
heading to their respective homes. Obi-Wan and Anakin were once
again ahead of him, talking about desert plants and sand storms
as they headed back to the house. Qui-Gon knew that this was a
common thread for them now, this love of an unfriendly
environment. For as harsh as the living had been on Tatooine,
Anakin missed his home. Although much of that was tied up in
who had been left behind.
Qui-Gon released his remorse at his inability to liberate Shmi
as well as Anakin; it had become routine as breathing to feel
this guilt. He tried instead to concentrate on the way in which
the Force was weaving around this community. He breathed deeply
as he settled into a steady pace and started a walking
meditation.
Just as the sweet-smelling lotus blooms
Beside the road upon a heap of filth,
So does the discipline of the Jedi
Rise above those bound blindly
To the limitations of the world.
The day's heat was quickly dissipating as the sun started to
set. The sunsets here lacked the drama of those on other
planets. Without clouds or atmospheric moisture, or even
pollution to color the rays, streaks of gold were flaring out
from the earthen horizon. Qui-Gon felt the cooling air on his
skin like a kiss. He focused inwards at this center as his
outer senses stretched over the buildings of the village. The
interconnected pathways of every Force signature present glowed
like a mirage of wavering water in the distance. Each signature
touched another, even if only briefly, like the brushing of
hands in passing strangers. While keeping his outer sense
following each life string, his inner sense focused on all the
changes this past day has wrought.
The expectations he had arrived with had been shattered into
crystalline shards he now had to tread upon carefully. Each
piece refracted those expectations into a rainbow of hopes,
fears and uncertainty. He wanted to stop and examine each
glittering fragment, but knew he had to move on, so he saved
the image for later perusal.
His Force sense stretched tight, he was able to finally define
Obi- Wan's distinct Force signature. It glowed fiery white,
with muted tones of blue and brief jabs of red and black. The
bursts of darkness did not surprise him, but the intensity of
their existence did make him uneasy. He followed the threads of
his former student's spirit through the village. Its brightness
flowed in and out of each home and building, finally settling
over the entire community in a hazy mist. Obi-Wan had laid a
protective blanket over the entire community while keeping the
darkness away. But the Dark does not allow itself to be subdued
indefinitely, and Qui-Gon found its intricate webbing hovering,
waiting to ensnare the unsuspecting. Following the paths of
darkness, he sent out his own signature, wrapping it in and
among the minute threads, securing them in place, away from
everyone, as long as he was present.
As the trio neared the house, the Dark webbing became more
prominent, but was still contained. Overlaying the gossamer
skeins of anger, guilt and rage were bright golden streaks
tipped with green jewels of compassion, love and acceptance.
Finnea. Qui-Gon then realized that whatever personal demons
battled for control of Obi-Wan, his love of his surrogate
daughter kept them in check.
Qui-Gon cast inward and found the sharp pieces of his
expectations again. Closer inspection now revealed that the
breaks were made intentionally. Each sharp edge a threat of
danger. Each warning him away. Away from what? Obi-Wan?
Qui-Gon remained outside when they reached the house. His
outspread thoughts focusing back inward, his center spreading
outward to increase his awareness. He inhaled the cooling dusk
air and stretched out his arms, spreading each hand as far as
it would go. He held that breath in and made one of his
infamous split-second decisions.
He wasn't leaving here until he knew exactly what was going on.
Then he turned and went inside to join his companions for night
meal.
Qui-Gon entered the training room and looked around. The room
was large enough for sparring or training forms, with a high
ceiling for the aerials that Obi-Wan favored. Obi-Wan was
pacing at the opposite end of the room, seemingly lost in
thought, muscles tensed. Qui-Gon wondered, not for the first
time, if his former apprentice ever meditated anymore.
Qui-Gon removed his tunic and boots as Obi-Wan had. When he
stood, Qui-Gon saw for the first time a large tattoo resting
between Obi- Wan's shoulder blades. It appeared to be a series
of interlocking symbols surrounding an oval that contained a
larger symbol. Each arm was also adorned with a smaller ring of
symbols that encircled the bicep at the juncture where the
deltoid ended. Qui-Gon recognized many of the symbols from the
towers he had seen earlier in the day.
Obi-Wan turned when the intent of Qui-Gon's scrutiny brought
his awareness around. Qui-Gon held his gaze just long enough to
sense the other man's mood. The Force radiated outward from him
in waves of suppressed excitement, tinged with anxiety. Obi-Wan
held a staff in his hand that gleamed with the same dull sheen
as the ore in the cave. The staff was just shorter than Obi-Wan
and he held it with a practiced ease from long hours of use.
Obi-Wan approached Qui-Gon and watched the older man's eyes
shift from his arms to the staff, to his face. He felt a
strange sense of pleasure that the man should feel so off
guard. Qui-Gon was dressed ready to spar, but stood near the
entrance with his hands clasped in front of him. Obi-Wan took a
moment to study his former Master, as he hadn't before. In his
robes, Qui-Gon emanated power and serenity. Half undressed,
Qui-Gon was imposing. His frame seemed taller and broader, his
scarred chest giving every impression of the warrior that
resided in that body. He had tied back his long hair, accenting
his strong features. His face was impassive, but his eyes held
a light of curious interest. Obi-Wan couldn't resist the urge
to show off a little, twirling the staff as he walked towards
the door.
Qui-Gon spread out his arms and he looked to Obi-Wan as if he
was offering some sort of pre-fight benediction.
"I seem to be lacking the appropriate weapon."
Obi-Wan lifted his chin and said, "Your light saber will do."
"Light sabers cut through every known metal, Obi-Wan."
Showing off again, Obi-Wan twirled the staff, flipping it
between his hands. "This isn't a known metal."
Qui-Gon unclipped and activated his saber. He set it on its
lowest setting and touched the end of the staff. The blade
threw off sparks, but the staff was undamaged. He increased the
power setting in increments, each time to the same results. He
then placed the saber on its highest setting. The slightest
touch to skin would leave permanent and painful scarring. He
held his blade out, but didn't move it any closer. Snorting in
impatience, Obi-Wan brought the staff out to touch the light
saber. Bright green sparks flew in to the air and a familiar
hissing and sputtering sound filled the room. Obi-Wan held the
staff there for a long minute until Qui-Gon nodded. The staff
was undamaged. The younger man's mouth quirked upward quickly
before his features settled into an impassive stare.
Obi-Wan took the staff in both his hands and made the ritual
slashing gesture meant to open sparring. Qui-Gon hesitated.
Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow and made the gesture again. Qui-Gon
engaged.
As blows were exchanged, Obi-Wan threw himself into the dance.
Enthralled by the staff's effectiveness against the saber, it
took him a moment to grasp what exactly was occurring. He was
sparring. With Qui-Gon. Sparring again with the man whose skill
had been the benchmark of his abilities for most of his life.
Even eight years later, every move Obi-Wan made carried the
indelible mark of his instructor. This time lacked the
smoothness of earlier bouts. There was no training bond to aid
or guide. There wasn't the easy familiarity established after
years of daily training sessions. But there was symmetry to
their moves, a ghost of former exchanges haunting the edges.
Slashes and parries increased in pace. Soon both men's bodies
were covered in sweat. Obi-Wan Force shoved Qui-Gon back and
wiped the perspiration from his eyes. He could have closed his
eyes, he realized, and completed this match. The staff guided
his movements as surely as the Force. Qui-Gon's hair was wildly
out of place and his usual calm expression was belied by a
small smile that, from certain angles, appeared to be a
grimace. Obi-Wan aimed high to bring Qui-Gon's defenses up,
then twisted the staff towards his opponent's knees. Qui-Gon
caught on at the last moment, rolling out before the glancing
blow could disable him.
Obi-Wan could feel the Force moving through the staff and
thrumming up his forearms, giving him the boost he needed to
fight this formidable adversary. This was better than sparring
with Eri and definitely an improvement on training Finn. Energy
generated from both men's exertions seemed to take on a
physical presence, buffeting them with wave after wave of Force
backlash. Qui-Gon glowed with it, which took Obi-Wan's breath
away. He had to admit his Master was never more magnificent
than when engaged in battle. He exuded all of the confidence of
a man sure of his abilities honed by decades of training. Words
from his thoughts passed through Obi-Wan's head. Adversary.
Battle. Master. Momentarily unsettled, Obi-Wan faltered.
Qui-Gon pressed the advantage. Obi-Wan's back was now pressed
up against the far wall, holding his opponent off with all of
his skill and the length of the staff. Concede or die, which
would you prefer? Obi-Wan drew as much strength from the
staff as he could and pressed back, hoping to gain some
leverage. There, only a slight break, but good enough to launch
himself over the taller man's head, twisting around to land
facing Qui-Gon's back. Never concede. Qui- Gon turned in
time to block the downward blow.
The match continued at blurring speed, traveling the length of
the training room twice. Obi-Wan's every muscle was screaming
for respite. He was amazed again at the continued strength of
his competitor, but noticed a peculiarity developing in
Qui-Gon's movements. He recognized the motivation behind those
movements. Qui- Gon would never concede either. One man would
have to either strip the other of his weapon, or strike what
would be a killing blow. He spared a moment to wonder if
Qui-Gon had thought to lower the power of his saber as the
green blade slashed inelegantly towards him.
As Qui-Gon's parries became more desperate, Obi-Wan
concentrated on keeping himself at a safe enough distance and
focused on watching the man's subtle shifts in form, trying to
predict his next move. Observing the muscles that guided
Qui-Gon's arm, Obi-Wan became suddenly fixated on the slashing
pink scar caused by the Sith blade-- the blade that had been
double-sided, as a staff, according to Anakin's story. His
thoughts were interrupted by a desperate lunge from Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan hopped up and back and again was pressed against the
wall. Obi-Wan fought back with equal measure, but a Force shove
combined with a clever parry wrenched the staff from his hands.
Qui-Gon's saber now rested a hair's breadth from his throat.
Victory to the Master.
Qui-Gon leaned in, resting the palm of his hand against the
wall by Obi-Wan's head while attempting to catch his breath. He
didn't lower the blade, though. Obi-Wan could smell sweet,
earthy sweat and a sharp undertone of fear. Obi-Wan was as
startled by the fear as he was paralyzed by the blade still
held to his neck.
"Match, Master." He laid a gentle hand on Qui-Gon's arm and
kept his voice low.
Qui-Gon shook his head and came to. Finally taking notice of
the current situation, he jumped back, deactivating his 'saber
and throwing it to the floor. Each man fought to catch his
breath while regarding the other fixedly.
Obi-Wan walked over to the light saber and picked it up. He
checked the casing for damage and, finding none, started to
hand it back to Qui-Gon. Then, as an afterthought, he checked
the power setting. His breath left him in a gust when he saw
that the last setting had not been changed. The adrenaline rush
of the match left hurriedly, leaving only a coiled pit of fear
in its wake. Fear that quickly exploded into anger.
"What in all hells is your problem?"
Qui-Gon took the light saber from Obi-Wan's hand and looked at
it as if it would come alive.
"I didn't...I forgot-"
"You forgot? I could've lost a limb! What were you trying to
prove?"
"I wasn't trying to prove anything, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon could
still feel the fear that had overtaken him pulsating in his
bones, setting in a deep vibration. He wasn't sure if it was
the staff, or what it had represented, but seeing Obi-Wan flash
it around with such skill had unnerved him, had awakened
memories long buried. He kept his voice even and looked the
younger man in the eye. "I'm sorry, Padawan. Forgive me."
Obi-Wan's body snapped to attention. When he next spoke, his
voice was ice. "I am not your Padawan anymore, Master Jinn."
"Force, do you have to keep calling me that?" He was being
louder than he intended, not sure if it was in reaction to the
tone or the grating constant formality from someone he once
held so dear.
Obi-Wan kept his tone cool, showing no surprise at the change
in subject. "What would you have me call you then?"
Qui-Gon sighed while trying to release his lingering fear from
the bout and rising anger at the situation. Then he studied the
young man in front of him. His first thought was that Obi-Wan
bore too many scars for one so young. Aside from the two on his
face, there were several slashes on his right hand, three spots
on his abdomen that resembled poorly healed blaster wounds, and
a series of tiny white lines running down each side, starting
near his armpits and disappearing beneath the waistband of his
pants. At first these lines resembled tribal markings he had
seen before, but then he noticed how unevenly they were spaced,
and how one extended onto his torso to curl faintly around one
nipple. This cataloguing happened quickly, but took long enough
for Obi-Wan to start shifting, awaiting a response. He filed
away the visual inventory and took in a deep breath, willing
himself to step away from the tenseness of the situation.
He decided to redirect with a question of his own. "Obi-Wan,
are we not equals now?" Before he received an answer, Qui-Gon
moved to the middle of the room and kneeled, sitting back on
his heels. He placed his hands, palm up, on his thighs. A
gesture of peace. He wasn't sure why he had to do this now,
except that his own reaction to sparring with Obi-Wan had been
driven as much by his mistrust of the man as it had been by
past events.
Qui-Gon, tired of walking the knife-edge of uncertainty around
Obi- Wan, waited patiently for the man pacing the floor in
front of him to choose to indulge this conversation. Qui-Gon
breathed deeply, regaining the equilibrium he had found during
his earlier meditation. This was not a normal mission. It was
more personal. Qui-Gon was going to do whatever he could to
make it as personal as possible. When the anxiety within
Obi-Wan uncoiled, he sat down, mirroring the Jedi's stance.
Qui-Gon repeated his earlier question.
"Are we not equals, Obi-Wan? You are the leader of this
community. I am a representative of the Jedi, here to evaluate
the eligibility of your planet to enter the Republic."
Obi-Wan tilted his head, considering Qui-Gon's words. "I'm not
used to seeing things as such. No matter our current positions,
in my mind I have never been your equal."
"I suppose it all boils down to how you choose to view
yourself. You recall how leaders of some communities have
treated Jedi. Sometimes we were barely even acknowledged."
Obi-Wan gave a slight smile then shook his head, as if
dislodging the memory from his mind. Then he looked down and
shrugged, giving that as his only answer.
"Would you rather we both remain within the confines of our
positions, our titles?" Qui-Gon knew he was laying down a
gambit here and waited for the response. He received little
more than a brief shudder, then another shake of the head.
Exasperated now by the lack of verbal response, he pressed on.
"You called me Qui-Gon before you were my apprentice, can you
not bring yourself to do that now?"
Obi-Wan looked straight at his former Master. Why does he
keep insisting on bringing up the past like this? He then
understood that the only way to end this conversation was to
take part in it. "All I wanted then was the right to call you
Master. Using that title meant everything to me, so once I got
the chance to, I didn't want to stop."
"And now," he heard the other man ask, "what do you want now?"
Now, I want you to leave and forget you ever came here.
"I want you to understand that I'm not the same person who left
eight years ago."
Qui-Gon's tone was light when he responded. "I believe I can
safely assume that much."
Obi-Wan gave him an uneasy smile.
Qui-Gon continued. "You said in the letter you left me that you
hoped we could meet again one day and be friends. Can this not
be that day?"
Obi-Wan, unsettled at having his long-distant words come back
to him, chose his response carefully. "I was naive then, to
think that." He turned his head to avoid any hurt in Qui-Gon's
gaze. There was a silent moment. Obi-Wan thought this episode
might be over, but he then knew that this was one of his
Master's old tricks, sitting in serene silence until his
Padawan looked again at him. Obi-Wan obliged and was
unsurprised at the calm expression on the older man's face.
Qui-Gon's voice was equally calm when he spoke again. "That
isn't what you had hoped?"
A measure of honesty was allowed here, he knew. "I guess at the
time I wanted to act on this huge decision, but keep the
delusion that our relationship would remain unharmed."
Qui-Gon was now using his gentle teaching voice. Obi-Wan had to
resist the urge to wrap his soul in it. "You think too much
damage has been done for us to be friends?"
Angry now that despite Qui-Gon's talk of equality, old teacher-
student roles were being reasserted, Obi-Wan decided instead to
counter with a question of his own. "How can you trust me after
all I've done?" The answer, which came easily, as if already
decided, didn't surprise him.
"Maybe I do not. Do you think you can trust me?"
He thought about the past day. The current of fear during the
sparring match, the obvious problems with Anakin, all of it
spoke of something that was not right about his former Master.
But still, he was Qui-Gon Jinn, and it was instinct for Obi-Wan
to trust him. Obi- Wan, however, was not about to turn this
conversation to the older man's advantage. "I'm not really
sure. You did just try to kill me."
Obi-Wan smirked inwardly at Qui-Gon's easy smile. Padawan
Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi would have displayed every failure for
his Master's perusal and worked his butt off to regain any lost
trust. As an older apprentice, Obi-Wan had used his Master's
sense of humor to his advantage, breaking tense moments with
attempts at levity. If Qui- Gon could still be partially
manipulated by this, then so be it. Anything Obi-Wan could
still use to his future advantage was welcome.
"Were you angry with me for not coming after you, Obi-Wan?"
Trust the man to ask all the easy questions.
"No...Maybe. I was mostly angry at myself for getting into such
a mess." That was not a painless truth to admit.
"You could have left Citharin. I would have taken you back."
Obi-Wan thought back to those times, when he had gone from a
self- assured Jedi apprentice to a scared boy in the space of a
heartbeat. He thought about all of the pain he had endured and
the blood on his hands, of the constant taste of fear in the
back of his throat like bile, of the hammering headaches that
have never fully left him and the once ever-present need to
prove himself to a band of untrusting strangers. He recalled
the bonds of unconditional love he had eventually been offered
and the life-long friendships that had been forged. And now he
looked down the road of his uncertain future and knew that he
wouldn't have changed a thing.
"No, I couldn't. I was in over my head, but I had made a
commitment to this cause. For once, I had to see a commitment
through to the end." Obi-Wan judged the truth behind his words.
At one time, Qui- Gon had been his only hope for a future with
the Jedi. He had held such hope and faith in his youth that a
bond had forged between them even before their pairing was
official. Before Qui-Gon had even wanted it. He had broken that
bond and the trust that had accompanied it and had allowed a
painful lie to persist rather than face the fact of his
abandonment of his Master. At least guilt from that wouldn't
gnaw at him anymore.
"I am pleased that you know I'm not dead."
"As am I, Obi-Wan." The relief that colored the older man's
voice was plain. In the space of that one moment of truth,
Obi-Wan felt an ease to the ache he had forgotten he was
feeling at not being able to read his former Master through
their defunct bond.
"Obi-Wan, can we start anew? Obi-Wan to Qui-Gon?"
Obi-Wan started slightly at the question and pondered what such
a friendship would entail: stilted letters about the harvest
and Anakin's training, the occasional visit, becoming less
frequent as the Jedi team reached a stage of readiness for the
never-ending onslaught of missions, things always left unsaid
that could grow into resentments. That would not be a
friendship. It would be an acquaintanceship. He would rather be
dead in the other's eyes.
"I'm not sure that is an endeavor we should pursue at this
moment." He marveled at how easily he could slip into mimicking
his Master's speech patterns after only a day in the man's
presence. Yet another reason to avoid the tempting invitation,
Obi-Wan would not lose his independence to this commanding man.
Qui-Gon watched the other man cock his head, and bid Finn to
enter the room. So they're bonded on some level. Not
surprising, considering the strong relationship between the
two. He quelled the irrational jealousy that threatened to
rise at the thought of Obi-Wan bonded to anyone else.
"My pardons for interrupting. My Ahj, there is a high priority
comm on hold for you at the house."
"Thank you, Finn. Keep them on hold. I'll be there in a
moment."
Instead of rising to leave, Obi-Wan regarded him speculatively.
Qui- Gon raised an eyebrow, an invitation to speak freely.
After the briefest of hesitations, the younger man spoke in a
rush. "Anakin asked me to speak to you about something, but I'm
not going to. I never promised him I would because I don't
think it's my place." He raised a hand at Qui-Gon's unvoiced
objection. "It isn't my place," he repeated. "But you need to
talk to him. He's...he just has some things he needs to tell
you." A shrug. "I do need to take this comm, so if you'll
excuse me." He stood up and headed for the door.
Before exiting, he turned back. "For what it's worth, I enjoyed
sparring with you." Then he was gone.
Qui-Gon rose from his seated position and stretched. He checked
on Anakin through their bond and found the boy deep in evening
meditation. He decided that dissemination of this conversation
would be more easily attempted if he joined his apprentice. The
effects of the endless activity of the day suddenly descended
upon him. Every ounce of his physical and mental being
desperately demanded sleep. There would be plenty of time to
traverse the hidden mines of Obi- Wan's life tomorrow. Still
stretching overworked muscles, Qui-Gon headed back to the
house.
Obi-Wan locked the door to his quarters and sat at the
communications panel in his office. He checked the bounced
relays that would scramble any return trace before looking at
the sender's name. Damn. He set the return to voice only
and switched it on.
"Bawain."
"Ah, Ser Bawain," the too smooth voice at the other end
intoned, "I was wondering if I'd lost you."
"Cut the dramatics, Dartoub. What do you want?"
"I have a new client for you, recommended by our friends. It
could promise to be a very promising partnership."
"I don't form partnerships. Who are these people and what do
they want?"
"I am transferring the preliminary information now." The screen
in front of him began scrolling data. Obi-Wan read quickly
before deleting. He heard Dartoub's voice and focused back on
the call. "As I was saying, Bawain. A very promising
partnership."
"They're offering too much money. I don't trust it."
"People who have money to burn don't recognize the value of
it." A momentary beat, then, "They specifically requested you.
They wanted the best, they said, and are willing to pay for
it."
Obi-Wan thought about the amount of money offered. It would
more than cover the initial cost of an infirmary, including a
sizeable store of bacta. And tobacco harvest was approaching.
"I'll be there in two days. The usual place."
Before he signed out, he commed back in. "And Dartoub? No
tricks this time. You don't get your cut until after I get full
payment. Bawain out."
He sat back in his chair and evaluated his options. He hated
going into a job cold, but Dartoub only set him up with new
clients if they were recommended by someone known to both of
them. He would just have to tread more carefully than usual. He
had two days to get to L'Esthin. Best to start packing
immediately.
First, he made two calls and summoned Finn. When she arrived,
it was to find him in his bedroom, elbow deep in his travel
bag.
"Oh no," was all she could say.
"Don't you knock, Finn?"
"I...you told me to come in."
"I told you to come to my room, not to override the lock and
waltz inside."
Finn hung her head. "Apologies, my Ahj. I won't do it again."
He sighed. They had this conflict repeatedly. He would have to
find a way to maintain some semblance of privacy in this house.
Putting a lock on his door obviously hadn't done the trick. He
shook his head and attended to the matter at hand.
"In answer to your earlier comment, oh yes. I should be gone
seven days or so."
"Or so?"
"New clients." He placed a finger on her lips to silence her
concerns. "Eri will be accompanying me." At her nod, he went
into his closet and keyed the lock on the back wall. When the
door slid open, he pulled out the storage locker that held his
weapons. He opened it and began selecting blasters and charge
clips. Since Citharin II tried to maintain a weapon-less
society, he would have to hide his choices in his bag until he
was off world.
"What about Master Jinn?" Her question caught him off guard. He
realized that he had wiped all thought of his guests as soon as
he started getting ready.
"You'll just have to tell him that I had some pressing trade
business to attend to. And shield like the Sith when you do
that. He can smell a lie in a heartbeat."
"I can't do that, Obi. I can't entertain them and lie to them
especially knowing he could catch me." Finn's eyes confirmed
the panic in her voice.
Obi-Wan placed a hand on her shoulder and sent as much calm as
he could spare towards her. "Relax. You don't have to entertain
him, just see to his needs. He does have a mission to attend
to, and Tris will be available to help him. As for the other,
he won't call you on a lie, even if he catches you in the
middle of one. He'll just await my return to confront me."
Calmed, Finn became chagrined. "You know I'd never do anything
to jeopardize you, Obi."
He gave her a quick hug. "I know. Look, with any luck, they'll
leave before I even get back. Don't worry. You'll do great." He
thought for a moment. "Have him teach you something. He's an
amazing teacher. And don't forget about dinner at the Trevins'
tomorrow. Oh, and I've left a list of supplies we definitely
need from the traders."
With that, he shouldered his bag, placed a kiss on his
daughter's forehead and slid out the back door of his quarters
that led to the gardens. He paused once to inhale the smells
and colors of his creation before heading toward the center of
town.
When Obi-Wan reached the Administration building, Tristan was
already there, sitting on the outside steps. He nodded in
greeting and sat beside his friend, hugging his chest against
the cold night air. He looked over the town square, noting the
night shadows cast by the bright moon. The Five Towers stood
out ominously, belying their meaning, the Tower of Wind hidden
completely in the shadow of Spirit. All the businesses were
dark. Everyone was at home, sleeping or preparing for bed. Days
on Citharin started early, even those not involved in the crops
were going to awaken to attend the trading bazaar by the
hangar.
Tristan's voice broke the silent air. "I thought it would be
busier here. With Planting Day and Trading Day so close
together this cycle."
Obi-Wan considered his friend's words. Not what was said, but
the meaning behind the statement. Tristan was a quiet man, not
given much to idle conversation, but instead a maker of
observations. "You thought it would be busier because of the
Jedi. Everyone wanting to put on a show."
"I am a little surprised that there wasn't more of a fuss."
Tristan, like Obi-Wan kept his gaze on the sculpture garden in
front of him. "You did discourage that, though. Before they
showed up." At that, he turned to look at the leader's profile.
"I have never met a Jedi that likes a big commotion. And more
than any other, Qui-Gon Jinn is not a fan of pomp and
circumstance." Obi- Wan recalled the imperceptible sigh that
would escape his Master every time they were expected to
participate in or observe some ostentatious parading or ritual.
When he was very young, Obi-Wan had loved these glittering
displays of a country's wealth or artistry. As he aged,
however, he too would long for the simple comfort offered by
his home at the Temple.
"I like him."
Obi-Wan nodded, knowing that this admission was a big one to
make. "There isn't really much to dislike about the man. Unless
you have a problem with dedication, honesty and diplomacy."
"I'm afraid I didn't make a very good impression on him when he
arrived. I was a bit...stiff."
"Don't worry, he'll never let on if he doesn't like you,"
Obi-Wan laughed.
"Comforting."
Obi-Wan looked fully at his friend. The best friend he's been
having for the last three years, in spite of their rocky
beginning. He knew that, should anything ever happen to him,
Tristan would be able to take over leading the community, and
would do so with a more even temper than Obi-Wan usually
displayed. He used to try purposefully to push the other man's
buttons, to test his limits. But Tris would only retreat
further into the quiet formality he wore like the best Jedi
Masters. That thought caused a chuckle.
"I was just thinking that, if circumstances had been different,
you would have made a great Jedi Knight. You've got the perfect
temperament." He responded to the other man's questioning look.
Tristan made a scoffing noise. Both men sat quietly for a
moment before Tristan broke the silence.
"He said two years, Obi."
Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. "I've been telling you as much for a
while, Tris."
"I suppose I had foolishly hoped Ben would grow out of his
obsession. Instead, he's become even more focused." Tristan
shook his head. "Letti thinks we should just let him go back.
Back with your Jedi."
Obi-Wan's heart constricted at the thought. Ben wasn't his
child, but he had a bond with the boy that had formed at his
birth in a desperate attempt to keep the fragile infant alive.
He had been named as Ben's guardian, as he had been for Finn
before Angel had died. Every child in the village had a
guardian named, in case of the death of the parents. Even now
it still happened as a holdover from less certain days.
"He needn't go, you know. His life could be just as fulfilling
doing something else," he offered to his friend.
"You are the one that always told me everything happens for a
reason. That you came to us, that we survived when so many
others died. All of it due to some amorphous Force that,
according to you, has some will of its own." Tristan spit the
words out.
"I have found that, when I have opened myself up to what it's
trying to tell me, the Force guides me to where I need to be.
Not necessarily where I want to be, mind you. But the ultimate
decision was always mine to make." Unaccustomed to his friend's
outbursts, Obi-Wan decided to ride this one out as best he
could.
"And what will happen, if I ignore this guidance?"
"Nothing bad is going to happen to you. The Force doesn't
punish people, Tris."
"But..."
"But, things always seem to have this way of working out
according to its will. If Ben is meant to be a Jedi, he will
be. Somehow."
Tristan sighed. "I'm being selfish, aren't I?"
"No, you're being a father who loves his only son." Do you
love him enough to let him follow his destiny? That
question would never be asked. Obi-Wan could never ask a parent
to give up their child, but he had the sneaking suspicion the
issue would re-assert itself in other families soon. More
Force-blessed children have been born since their exodus to
freedom. More in three years than Obi-Wan thought possible.
Tristan pulled his knees to his chest in a self-protective
gesture. He was looking away from Obi-Wan again, up at the
brilliantly lit night sky. "Am I keeping you?"
Obi-Wan wondered briefly if Tristan was speaking to him, or to
the Spirits, but decided to answer anyway. "Nah. I told Eri to
give me a few. I knew you would want to talk after I saw you
with him today."
"I do like him," Tristan repeated from earlier. "Do you? I only
ask because you don't act like you do."
Obi-Wan thought for a minute before answering.
"He's...different from when I was his apprentice. Less
omnipotent, in a way. What can I say? He was everything to me
for five years. I thought he was magnificent, brilliant.
Perfect. Maybe now I'm just seeing that he's not."
It was Tristan's turn to chuckle. "Ah, it's hard to see your
idol for the human being he is, isn't it? Poor Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan gave a light punch to his friend's arm and then smiled.
He joined his friend's perusal of the stars, noting the
constellations the community had spent many nights making up
names for. He missed the togetherness of those first nights
here, joined around the communal bonfire, choosing names for
every canyon, mountain, insect, and rodent. The freedom of such
an act had been euphoric. Every member had felt they were
playing a pivotal role in the development of their new home.
Now he was asking them to take a step many of them feared would
take away some of that power and freedom. And yet, they trusted
him, Obi-Wan Kenobi, enough to follow him on this path. He
prayed to the Spirits that this trust would not be in vain.
Tristan brought him back to the here and now. "When will you
return?"
"I'm estimating seven days." He checked his timepiece. "And I
should get going." Still, he hesitated. He regretted that there
never seemed to be enough time for these quiet talks anymore. A
few more minutes wouldn't hurt. "I never lied to him before,
Tris. And now, everything I tell him is covered in lies."
Tristan gave him a gentle smile. "Not everything, Obi. You're
just being hard on yourself, as usual."
The young leader sighed and rested his chin on his knees. "Will
you look after him? I mean, just, you know, keep an eye on him.
Finn's such a softie sometimes, something irregular could
escape her notice."
Tristan nodded, looking at his friend out of the corner of his
eye. "Yeah, that's what we all call her, Finnea the Pushover."
That earned another punch to the arm. "Careful, Ahj Trevin,
your sense of humor is showing."
"Elya always did say you would be a terrible influence on me."
"Really? I must have missed those Council meetings." He stood
and gathered his bags. He took a moment to adjust everything,
reluctant to leave.
"Can I ask you a question, Obi-Wan?"
"Of course, my friend."
"Are you taking this job now to run away?"
He reflected on his earlier decision, made hastily on the heels
of that conversation with his former Master. "If I sat down and
thought about it, the answer would probably be yes. But it
wouldn't be the only reason I'm going."
Tristan nodded and stood with him. He reached out and grasped
Obi- Wan's shoulder. "Good Journey to you, my friend."
Obi-Wan bowed back and touched his fingertips to his chest,
completing the ritual leave-taking. "May the Spirits watch over
you in my absence." As he turned to walk away, he heard Tristan
start walking in the opposite direction.
He walked to the eastern edge of the village to where Eri was
waiting with a speeder. The further from the center of town he
got, the darker the night seemed. He didn't need light, though,
to find his way. He has been traversing the dark paths of this
planet for years, and has always known when to use the Force to
aid his journey.
He heard the low hum of the speeder that would take him to the
concealed landing pad in Sorrow Canyon, so named for the
tear-like structures created by magma flow from an unknown era.
Eri didn't need to turn to sense his approach. His own
abilities in the Force made him an effective lookout and
Obi-Wan made sure to teach him the skills he would need to be a
trustworthy back up as well.
"You ready?" Eri pitched his voice to just be heard over the
speeder's purr.
Obi-Wan turned and looked back in the direction of his house.
Was he running away? He tried to imagine what he would have
done had it been any other Jedi representative, or if Jedi
weren't here at all. Then he remembered Finn's infirmary and
knew he would have made the same decision. It had just been
easier to make with Qui-Gon Jinn sleeping down the hall. His
gaze swept the homes in front of him, each containing a person
that trusted him. My people. He turned and climbed into
the passenger seat of the speeder.
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