Archive: Master and Apprentice--anyone else ask please
Summary: Qui-Gon learns a few lessons about passion and
consequences.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, much less these fine
characters--although I own a couple of action figures of them,
does that count? Probably not. Oh well, I refuse to make any
money off them in any event, so please don't sue me.
Notes: This story consumed my life this past summer, and I
very much appreciate the many, many people who let me talk out
the plot, who read snippets (even when the thought of Q/X made
them nauseous [g]), who listened to me whine, and who were very
supportive the whole time--especially poor Cori, who had to
listen practically every day all day [g]. Most of all, I want
to get down on my knees and worship at the feet of Kimdy and
Destina, two of the best beta readers the world has ever seen.
If you see any mistakes in here, it's certainly not for lack of
their trying to get me to see them. [g]
And to No Doubt, who recorded the song that led to me spending
hours pondering what Qui-Gon was like when he was young and
happier and open and hadn't been betrayed yet...I'm not sure if
I should say thank you or damn you.... ;-)
Also...there's a short sequel to this story on my website, and
a longer Q/O one in the works right now. Hope you enjoy!
Coarse, dark hair slid through tanned fingers. Bronzed hands
traveled down a long, pale column of a neck, across a wider
expanse of the creamy skin, down the back to rest on taut
flanks as the two separate beings fused together....
Qui-Gon closed his eyes tightly as if that would stop the
images that came unbidden to his mind; they were nothing more
than a sign of his own lack of control. What his student was
doing in his free time was the boy's own business and Qui-Gon
knew he should be ashamed of himself for listening in.
He drove the desires from his mind, replacing them with a
careful serenity that would not put him in danger of discovery
should his padawan sense his thoughts. Of course, to do that,
the boy would have to actually be home.
With a deep breath, Qui-Gon opened his eyes. He watched as the
first rays of the sun rose over the spire at the northeast
corner of the Jedi Temple. Morning was fast approaching and
there was still no sign of his padawan.
Just as his unease was sliding into worry, Qui-Gon felt his
padawan nearing their quarters. He turned toward the door as it
opened, allowing his disapproval to show on his face.
Xanatos' smile faded somewhat as he faced his master. "You're
up early," he commented calmly as he shed his robe.
"On the contrary, I am up quite late."
The robe landed in a careless heap on the chair. "And I
thought I was past the age when you had to wait up for me," he
joked as he sprawled gracefully onto the couch.
"As did I." Qui-Gon crossed his arms across his chest, his
frown deepening into a scowl. "Where have you been?"
"Out with friends." Xanatos laid his head back into spooned
hands, elbows sticking out, and smiled up at his master. "We
agreed I was old enough to come and go as I pleased."
"That was when I assumed you were old enough to know when it
was time to come home."
The smile disappeared from Xanatos' face. "I apologize Master.
If you have a problem with my late hours you need only say so."
The contrite tone was at odds with the relaxed, confident body
language.
Qui-Gon sighed. "See that you're home at a decent hour from
now on and we'll say no more about it," he said in a softer
tone.
"Yes, Master." He hastily covered his yawn. "Are we sparring
this morning, Master?"
After a moment's silence, Qui-Gon took pity on the boy. "We'll
spar this afternoon; your morning is free."
"Thank you." Xanatos rolled off the couch, standing easily.
With a quick bow, he headed for his room.
Qui-Gon watched him go without bothering to hide his
affection. He wasn't sure he was tough enough on the boy at
times. His padawan needed a strong hand guiding him.
The Jedi Master grimaced at the surge of need that arced
through him as the images he'd 'seen' earlier played through
his mind again, this time with his own hands gliding across the
smooth skin of his Padawan's body. He forced his mind to go
blank, locking that scene far away in his mind.
Unbidden, another memory resurfaced-- Xanatos lying on the
couch moments ago, pale face bathed by the sun, dark blue eyes
sparkling in the bright morning light.
How was he supposed to reprimand his apprentice while the boy
lay there, clearly satiated, exuding sexual satisfaction from
his nocturnal activities? Hiding his attraction to his padawan
was playing with fire; if the Council found out, he could be
removed as Xanatos' master. If his Padawan wasn't so close to
knighthood....
But he was. Approval of his apprentice's elevation to the rank
of knight was imminent. He had passed the initial tests with
flying colors; now all that remained were his trials. Qui-Gon
had already put in a request that the Council consider choosing
a date for Xanatos' trials. In fact, he'd put in two requests,
since his first had received no response.
At least he'd received no official response. Privately,
however, Master Yoda had voiced his concerns about Xanatos.
"Not ready for knighthood, is he. Too eager to follow paths
quicker and more pleasurable." The pronouncement still echoed
through Qui-Gon's mind, h aunting him. He was certain there was
no cause for alarm. Yoda did not know Xanatos the way Qui-Gon
did. There was no danger in enjoying life. Living in the moment
was an important skill for a Jedi and if Xanatos lived each
moment to the fullest he should be congratulated, not scolded.
And judging from the fleeting images and more persistent
feelings Xanatos transmitted through their bond, his Padawan
was definitely living life to the fullest.
The boy simply needed to find the balance between recreation
and duty, to see to it that he was not caught ill-prepared for
any sudden missions because he'd been out until dawn having
fun. Qui-Gon thought their talk today would take care of that
problem. Then the Council would have no reason to keep Xanatos
from his trials any longer.
A cloud passed in front of the sun, the sudden shift in light
drawing Qui-Gon out of his reverie. He yawned as the sleepless
night caught up with him. As he headed for his own room, he
tried not to think of all the possibilities Xanatos' knighthood
would bring about.
Qui-Gon was awakened mid-morning by a summons from his former
master. He pulled a cloak of serenity around himself and buried
his feelings for his padawan deep in his mind as he walked the
distance to Yoda's quarters.
The timing of the request for a meeting was distressing . He
could hide his feelings so well almost no one would be able to
sense them.
Almost no one.
He had never had to shield something like this from his
master--at least not since his padawan days. Now, of course,
his shields were much stronger. But not necessarily strong
enough to stop Master Yoda. As he arrived his master's door,
Qui-Gon hoped the strength of his shields wouldn't be tested
today. As usual, the diminutive master's expression was serene,
with not even a hint as to why he had called Qui-Gon to his
room.
"You wished to see me, Master?"
Yoda looked up at him, the movement deliberate and unhurried,
as usual. "Saw your padawan returning this morning, Qui-Gon."
He waited, but his master said no more, an old trick Qui-Gon
knew well and frequently used himself. "Yes?"
"Padawans are not generally allowed to come and go as they
please," Yoda continued after a moment.
"No, they aren't," Qui-Gon agreed.
His master watched him for another moment, then sighed,
putting his whole body into that one exhalation. "Asked again
that Xanatos be knighted, you did."
"The Council has come to a decision, then?" Qui-Gon asked,
knowing they had not. If the Council had decided, they'd be
having this meeting in the Council's chambers.
"Decided they have not." Master Yoda waved his hand toward the
floor. "Come down here you will." The words held a touch of
impatience. Qui-Gon knelt on one knee to meet his master's
eyes. "Know you my thoughts on this," Yoda continued.
"You don't believe Xanatos is ready to become a knight."
"Dangerous, he would be, if knighted now." Qui-Gon opened his
mouth to argue, but his master silenced him with a gesture.
"Final mission you must take the boy on."
"Final? Is this some sort of test?"
"Test it is not. Lesson it is. If learn what he needs to know
Xanatos does, knighted he will be."
"And if the Council decides he has not learned his lesson?"
His master's head dipped forward slightly, eyes sliding into
mere slits. "If lesson goes unlearned, all else will matter
not."
Typical cryptic Yoda message--vague warnings of doom that
could mean anything. Qui-Gon rose to leave.
"Wait. One more thing to tell you I have. " The old Master
looked carefully into Qui-Gon's eyes. "Tell him about this
conversation you cannot. Only to think this is a regular
mission, he is."
Qui-Gon nodded and rose from the floor. "Where is the mission,
Master?"
"Telos."
Xanatos' home world. A world where his father held much wealth
and power. So it was a test, then, no matter what Yoda wanted
to call it. The Council thought Xanatos would be tempted by
wealth, but Qui-Gon knew better. The boy had his own kinds of
pleasures, and money had never been part of them.
"Is that all?"
"So certain are you, then, that this will turn out as you
wish?"
"I know my padawan."
Yoda frowned. "Mmmm. We shall see. Leave in the morning, you
will. Sleep tonight, your padawan should."
"I will go prepare for the mission." At his master's nod,
Qui-Gon bowed and left quickly, before he give anything away,
if he hadn't already.
Qui-Gon returned to his quarters and began his research on the
mission. Normally, Xanatos would help, but he needed to sleep.
This mission would go well. Qui-Gon was determined to see that
it did.
Halfway through his research, he reached out across their bond
to see if the boy was still asleep. Contentment was the first
feeling he sensed...contentment combined with arousal.
Qui-Gon tried to pull back from the bond, but he was assaulted
with images from Xanatos' dream. He saw his naked apprentice,
head thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure. Those eyes opened
slowly, gazing fire down at Qui-Gon as Xanatos thrust into him
over and over, whispering "Master" repeatedly, like a liturgy.
With a gasp, Qui-Gon wrenched himself free of the vision.
While most students harbored such thoughts toward their masters
at one time, Xanatos had never shown any sign of infatuation,
and he was long past the age where such things were common.
So what were the boy's feelings, then? Boy? Qui-Gon laughed
softly. He could think of Xanatos as a boy, but he was very
much a man, and a desirable one at that. It was time Qui-Gon
stopped running away from that fact and faced it.
The image from Xanatos' dream floated through his mind again,
increasing his own arousal. Perhaps this was not quite the
right time to face his feelings after all, if this was the
effect a single image had on him. For now, he had to
concentrate on the mission. Xanatos would be a knight.
Once that happened, the rest would fall into place as the Force
willed.
That decided, he put down his datapad and headed off to take a
shower. A very cold shower. Then he could continue his research
with a clear mind.
It was mid-afternoon before Xanatos surfaced, still dressing
as he hurried out of his room. "Master, I apologize for
oversleeping. You should have woken me."
Qui-Gon looked up from his datapad, cursing silently as his
padawan's appearance--hair tousled, eyes half-lidded as he
shook off the last signs of sleep--quickly undid the effect of
the cold shower.
He hid the effect the boy had on him, conscious that Xanatos
was staring at him oddly. "I let you sleep," Qui-Gon stopped to
clear his throat, "because our plans have changed."
He waited, hoping his student hadn't sensed his thoughts.
Xanatos' face cleared of confusion as he nodded at the datapad
in Qui-Gon's hands. "We've a mission, then?"
Qui-Gon nodded, not trusting himself to speak as his
apprentice came around behind him to read over his shoulder.
Xanatos leaned over, his hands on his master's shoulders, his
breath warming Qui-Gon's ear as he read.
Faster than Qui-Gon could think to stop it, the dream he'd
witnessed slammed back into his mind. He fought it off,
banishing it to a place deep in his mind, then held his breath,
waiting.
The hands on his shoulders tightened their grip a bit; the
breathing in his ear shallowed. Then Xanatos released him,
moving away toward the kitchen. "So, we're going to Telos?
It'll be wonderful to see my home world again as an adult."
Was that a reminder to his master that he was no longer a
child? Qui-Gon shook his head. He was reading subtext into
every word and action now. He had to gain control. Quicker than
he would have liked, Xanatos reappeared, glass in hand. "Shall
I go and pack for us while you finish preparing, Master?"
Master. Again the dream came back, the whispered caress
Xanatos had made out of that word sending a sharp pang of
desire straight to Qui-Gon's groin. "Yes, please, Padawan."
A brief pause, an almost startled glance, and then his
apprentice disappeared back into his own room. Qui-Gon sighed
in relief, then put down his datapad. He could finish reading
in flight to Telos; right now he was more in need of
meditation. He would conquer this. He would. Any other outcome
was simply not acceptable.
If the few minutes after Xanatos had awakened had been
difficult, the evening was turning out to be sheer torture.
Given the upcoming mission and the reprimand he'd received that
morning, Xanatos had chosen to stay in for the evening.
Trust his apprentice to choose the absolute worst time to be
overly dutiful. Of course, it was exactly the right thing to
do. Xanatos would be well-rested for the mission, and Master
Yoda, who was no doubt keeping track of Xanatos' whereabouts,
would perhaps be mollified by the boy's decision.
Unfortunately, neither of these things was helping Qui-Gon
deal with his desire for his student. The errant thoughts he
had when Xanatos wasn't around were difficult enough,
especially combined with his knowledge of Xanatos' activities
and now even his dreams.
None of that compared to having his padawan underfoot. How was
he supposed to concentrate with Xanatos lounging on the couch,
showing far too much skin and eating khana fruit?
Qui-Gon barely managed to suppress a groan as Xanatos finished
the juicy piece of fruit and began licking his fingers one by
one, silky pink tongue darting out across the tip of a finger,
remaining in view longer to slide its way up the long length of
each digit.
Just as Qui-Gon was considering crossing the room and ripping
his student's clothes off, Xanatos rose and strode off into the
kitchen, the tantalizing sway of his hips testing Qui-Gon's
resolve once again. By the time Xanatos returned, still drying
his hands on a towel, Qui-Gon had decided it was time for a
hasty retreat to deal with his problem on his own.
He stood, quickly putting things away. "Is something wrong,
Master?" Xanatos asked, changing course and coming to stand
next to his teacher.
Qui-Gon took a step backwards, covering the action by reaching
for a data chip on the shelf behind him. "Nothing is wrong," he
answered as he stuffed the chip blindly into the pack. "I'm
very tired, and I'll need to be well-rested for the mission, so
I think I'll get some sleep now."
Even to his own ears he sounded like a babbling fool, but if
Xanatos noticed, he said nothing about it. "Here. I'll finish
packing this up. You go to bed."
The low, seductive voice, combined with the sizzle of heat as
Xanatos' hand grazed his own as the young man took the pack
from him, ripped away any protest Qui-Gon might have made,
along with the last of his composure. "Thank you," he said
huskily, then he hurried off to his room.
As his door shut behind him, he was stripping off his clothes.
He locked strong shields firmly in place in his mind as he
threw himself on the bed and reached for his erection. His hand
wrapped tightly around the rock hard shaft and began pumping it
mercilessly as he unlocked all his carefully hidden visions.
Xanatos, in the throes of passion, and a faceless man
thrusting into him as his padawan moaned in ecstasy. That same
man, now being thoroughly used by Xanatos as he uttered low
words describing everything he wanted to do to his willing
partner.
Another vision, this time of Xanatos receiving pleasure from
one man while pleasuring another. The thought of so many others
having had his Xanatos both angered Qui-Gon and aroused him at
the same time.
His mind drifted to the newest images, those from Xanatos'
dream that morning. Qui-Gon's hand sped up as he recalled the
sheer bliss on Xanatos' face, the passion in the single word
'Master' whispered repeatedly.
Finally, his thoughts rested on the one erotic image that was
real--Xanatos licking juice from his fingers moments ago.
Qui-Gon replayed the slow glide of that tongue as it moved up
each finger, leaving no part of it untouched.
He imagined that tongue trailing liquid fire up the length of
his needy shaft. Would Xanatos be as thorough as he had been
with his fingers? Would he taste every millimeter of skin there
until Qui-Gon was mindless with need, coherent thought beyond
him?
Or would he quickly cover the entire length, taking it deep
inside his mouth, surrounding Qui-Gon in wet heat and then
sucking his very life out of him through that one small opening
in his body?
His climax took him by surprise, a hoarse shout escaping his
mouth. Qui-Gon lay there for several moments, gasping for
breath as the waves of pleasure slowly calmed.
When he finally felt he could stand without his knees
crumbling beneath him, he rose from the bed and moved rather
shakily toward the shower, hoping that release would be enough
to see him through the mission. Force help them both if it
wasn't.
He was going to die from the pleasure, he was sure of it.
Qui-Gon shivered as he fell against the wall behind him, the
cool durasteel supporting his back at odds with the intense
heat in his body.
The heat was due to his padawan, who was currently focused on
Qui-Gon's erection and doing everything he could to increase
the temperature further. He laced his hands through Xanatos'
close-cropped hair, holding him there, thrusting into his
mouth, climbing closer and closer toward release.
Qui-Gon awoke with a start, gasping, his climax too close to
stop now. He gripped his erection relentlessly, letting the
dream play back through his mind as he slipped over the edge,
release flowing through his body, easing the tension that had
preceded it.
He threw his arm over his eyes, unwilling to face reality just
yet. His heart rate and his breathing slowed as the sweat
cooled on his body, and still he lay there, eyes covered. How
could he go on this last mission and not reveal himself?
The answer came swiftly--because he must. Xanatos would
be a Jedi Knight. And Qui-Gon would be his master until that
happened. Whatever might happen after would have to be put out
of mind until then.
He was a Jedi Master. He had the ability to control this. Now
he had to find it--fast.
Suppressing a sigh, he threw back the covers back and slipped
to the floor to meditate.
Morning dawned, and Qui-Gon found himself reluctant to leave
the relative safety of his room. Yoda had found a pilot with a
cargo ship full of droids who was willing to take them to
Telos. Hopefully the ship would be large enough to keep some
distance between himself and his padawan.
Living in close quarters with the young man was tough enough,
even with outside distractions keeping them both occupied.
Being stuck onboard a ship with him would prove to be a
difficult challenge.
A knock at his bedroom door had him sliding into his robe even
before he heard the soft voice on the other side. "Master, we
must leave if we're going to meet the ship."
"Coming," Qui-Gon called. He winced at his choice of words.
This would be a difficult journey indeed.
The ship was large enough, though not as large as Qui-Gon had
hoped. The pilot, a humanoid who looked to be about Xanatos'
age, met them at the hatch with a smile. "Stieg Wa," he said,
nodding in response to their slight bows. "That's my name, by
the way, not some kind of odd greeting or anything. Welcome
aboard."
"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Xanatos."
"Right, the Jedi. " He laughed, a brash sound that echoed off
the metal walls of the hallways he was guiding them through.
"As if I'd be picking up any other kind of passenger at a Jedi
Temple."
Qui-Gon ducked through one of the many doorways set at random
intervals in the halls. "Do you pick up many passengers?" He
hadn't been able to sense any other life forms on board.
Stieg Wa shook his head. "I usually carry cargo only--much
safer than passengers. Cargo is predictable. Well, most of the
time." He turned and grinned at them as he stopped. "This is
your room. Sorry I only have one, but like I said, I don't
usually have passengers. I owed Master Yoda, though, so here
you are."
"One room will be fine," Qui-Gon said politely as the pilot
moved away, calling over his shoulder for them to join him in
the cockpit when they were settled.
Mentally, he cursed his former master as he followed Xanatos
into the room. With an effort, he released his anger into the
Force. He could feel the curious gaze of his padawan, but he
refused to meet the younger man's eyes.
If it were possible, he would ignore Xanatos for the whole
week it would take them to get to Telos. But he couldn't ignore
his student. Even though he was ready to be a knight, there was
still much for the young man to learn. And much he could teach
his master as well.
Thoughts and sensations assailed him, vivid enough to stop him
mid-stride. Xanatos' dream from the previous day was the most
prevalent, having replayed itself so many times in Qui-Gon's
mind he imagined he could feel each thrust of the young body
into his.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon jolted back into reality. Xanatos was staring at him,
blue eyes wide, lips parted slightly. Try as he might, Qui-Gon
couldn't pull his focus away from those wet, inviting lips.
"Is something wrong, Master?" His voice was slightly
breathless, and through their training bond, Qui-Gon could feel
Xanatos' growing arousal, no doubt fed by his master's
emotions.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon regained enough control to slam his shields
back in place. Xanatos gasped as he was released from the
assault of his Master's feelings.
"Master?" he said again. "What--?"
"Excuse me, Padawan, I must go find...." He stopped, unable to
think of any excuse to leave beyond the truth--and that was the
one thing he couldn't say. "I'll meet you in the cockpit in
twenty minutes."
Ignoring the confusion on his student's face, Qui-Gon hurried
out the door. He tried three of the doors around their room
before he found one that was unlocked. He opened it, relieved
to see it was the bathroom he'd sought.
He locked the door quickly behind himself, jerking his
leggings down and grabbing his erection unmercifully. His mind
recalled those soft, inviting lips, committing every crease in
them to memory as he quickly brought himself to orgasm.
Gasping, Qui-Gon leaned back against the wall and slid down
onto the cool floor. He tilted his head back and rested it
against the wall, eyes closed. He was an adult, a Jedi Master,
and he was jerking off in a bathroom like a teenager. He had to
do something.
The trouble was, he was beginning to think there was only one
cure. And he would not, could not even contemplate that action.
Once he had composed himself into the image of the calm Jedi
Master, Qui-Gon made his way to the cockpit. As he approached,
he could sense a growing irritation in his padawan.
Frowning, he slowed as he drew close enough to hear the
conversation. "Well, kid, I don't know about that cushy Temple
of yours, but out here in the real galaxy, we have to pay our
way, and therefore we take the quickest route possible. So we
fly through pirate territory."
"It only takes four more days to go around," Xanatos said in a
sulky voice Qui-Gon barely recognized.
"And those four days add up to at least one less shipment I
can make a month, not to mention the wasted fuel. I didn't get
to be where I am by playing it safe. But don't worry, I'm not
stupid either. We'll be fine."
"I know we will be," Xanatos snapped. "Just don't
expect us to protect you!"
"Xanatos!" Qui-Gon took the last few steps into the room.
His apprentice's head whipped around, anger quickly replaced
by shame. "Master!"
"Apologize to Stieg Wa." He waited while the younger Jedi made
a suitably contrite apology, then continued, "Perhaps you
should go finish unpacking." Given the few belongings they
traveled with, that really wasn't necessary, but it would help
his apprentice save face. Ordering him to his room would do
nothing to help the situation.
"Yes, Master." Xanatos nodded to Stieg Wa, bowed to his
master, and left.
Qui-Gon turned to the pilot. "He has been under a great deal
of stress with his trials approaching."
"Trials? What'd he do, kill somebody for taking the long way
around town?"
"These trials are the final test to become a Jedi Knight,
something he's worked his whole life for." Qui-Gon forced the
annoyance out of his voice. "It can be a difficult time."
The pilot shrugged. "Sure, whatever. No skin off my back if
the kid gets a little testy. I was meaner than a rabid bantha
the last week before I tested for my pilot's license. Just
don't expect me to treat him any different."
"Of course. It will be a good lesson for him in holding his
temper," Qui-Gon said with a smile. He watched as Stieg Wa
began checking instruments on the wall panels. "Is something
wrong?"
"Looks like everything's fine. Just checking it over." He
pointed to a row of instruments. "These go to the cloaking
device. And those," he said, indicating another row, "go to an
alarm to warn me about approaching ships. We're going to need
both of those things fully functional if we run across
trouble."
Qui-Gon nodded. "It seems you have everything under
control--not that I expected anything less--so if you don't
mind, I'm going to go have a talk with my apprentice." The
pilot waved a hand in dismissal, so Qui-Gon turned and left to
seek out his padawan.
Qui-Gon paused at the door of their room, his hand above the
entry keypad, and took a deep breath before entering the code.
He stopped short just inside the door; his apprentice had done
a thorough job of the task he had been assigned, he couldn't
argue that. Clothing was scattered all over one of the two
small beds. Xanatos sat in the middle of the mess, accusing
eyes raised toward his master. "Is there another task you wish
me to perform, Lord Master?"
Stunned, Qui-Gon bristled at the cold anger in his
apprentice's voice. "That's quite enough, Padawan," he barked.
"I'll not have you take that tone with me."
"You ordered me out of there! In front of that pilot!
The man will be treating me like a nothing the rest of the
trip--as if he wasn't rude enough to me before!"
"Padawan! That is quite enough." Qui-Gon stared in shock at
the younger man. "The only one I saw being rude was you."
"I was simply informing the man that we could make it safely
to Telos without flying right through the middle of pirate
territory."
"You told him we would not protect him," Qui-Gon countered,
crossing to stand over his student. "We are sworn to protect,
Xanatos. I don't care what you think of Stieg Wa's decisions;
if it becomes necessary, you will protect him."
"Of course I will, Master," Xanatos answered immediately. "I
wouldn't really leave the fool to die. Not that he wouldn't
deserve it for getting us into the mess in the first place."
Qui-Gon frowned down at him. "What has gotten into you?"
The harsh laugh he received in response drew Qui-Gon down to
sit next to the young man. Dark blue eyes just inches from his
own clouded with something other than the anger that had filled
them moments earlier. "Really, Master, do you have to ask?"
Answers crowded Qui-Gon's mind, some of them too vivid for his
own good, but he squelched them all, choosing to pretend
ignorance. "If it's bothering you this much, then yes, I do."
That hollow laugh rang out again. "Which is the greater sin,
Master, being rude, or lying?" When Qui-Gon could find no
response, Xanatos leaned closer, lowering his voice to a near
whisper. "Do not tell me to be the model of a perfect padawan
while silently asking me to be anything but."
Qui-Gon swallowed painfully. His own forbidden desires were to
blame for Xanatos' riotous emotions. The next seven days spread
out before him, one long nightmare of trying to fight his own
demons as well as quell the reactions they caused in his
padawan.
The answer seemed so simple in that moment. He could lean
forward, capture those lips taunting him so close to his own.
Take what he wanted, what he now knew they both wanted, and the
volatile emotions would calm.
Such an easy solution. Such a pleasurable solution. He leaned
forward until his lips were almost there, savoring the sweet
breath from the mouth so close, tasting it, anticipating the
next taste he would have.
A knock at the door brought him back to his senses. He pulled
back suddenly, scarcely able to believe what he'd been about to
do.
"Midday meal will be served in my office, right next to the
cockpit, in five minutes," Stieg Wa called through the door.
"Be there, or be very hungry until evening meal."
The muted sound of the pilot's footsteps faded quickly,
leaving the two Jedi in silence for a long moment. "Master,
I--"
"We must go," Qui-Gon interrupted, hurrying to the door. "It
wouldn't do to be late."
He waited, hand on the door controls, until he heard the
rustle of fabrics as his apprentice rose from the bed. "Yes,
Master." Qui-Gon ignored the sulky tone that once again laced
the young man's voice. Considering that his own actions had put
it there, there was little he could say that would help. He
opened the door and turned down the hallway without looking
back.
Midday meal was one of the most uncomfortable experiences
Qui-Gon could remember. Stieg Wa told them a little about
himself, the route they were traveling, and the ship. Qui-Gon
listened with interest, or at least appeared to. The majority
of his mind was still trying to come to terms with the scene
with his padawan in their room.
Xanatos ate quickly, paying little attention to the pilot's
chatter, but not going so far as to be openly rude. Even if
Qui-Gon couldn't sense the young Jedi's emotions through their
training bond, the tightness around the corners of his mouth
and the barely-veiled anger in his eyes would have given them
away. The two of them were going to have to have a talk. Just
as soon as Qui-Gon figured out what to say.
Pushing those thoughts aside for now, Qui-Gon turned his
attention back to Stieg Wa. "Of course, like every old ship,
she has her drawbacks. I never had her fitted with sonics,
since I prefer a nice, long soak in real hot water myself. I
keep an extra tub in the 'guest' bathroom, just in case, so you
can bathe. Water's short, though, so I'll be cutting back, and
you'll only be able to fill it halfway once a day."
Qui-Gon felt a sharp rise in Xanatos' emotion, saw the look in
his eyes, and decided it would be prudent to get his apprentice
out of the room before another fight with the pilot ensued.
"I'm sure we can make do," Qui-Gon told Stieg Wa. "Thank you
for the meal. I hope you'll excuse us; it's time for our
afternoon katas."
"Sure. Evening meal's in here as well. I'll hunt you down when
it's ready."
The Jedi Master nodded absently, his attention on Xanatos, who
clearly knew he was being handled and didn't like it. "Padawan,
shall we?" After a moment's pause, Xanatos nodded curtly to the
pilot and followed his master out of the room.
The two Jedi walked slowly to their room, footsteps echoing
off metal in the silence. Neither seemed anxious to arrive at
their destination. The near kiss from that afternoon hung over
them like a heavy cloud. As they reached the door, Qui-Gon was
still searching for a solution to their problem that didn't
involve simply giving in, but the answer eluded him. How could
he start the discussion when he didn't have the answers? He
needed more perspective.
His mind made up, he turned to his padawan at the door. "I
want you to go inside and meditate on your anger. Find the
source and resolve it." He held up his hand when Xanatos would
have spoken. "Stay here. I expect to see a vast improvement in
your actions when I return." With that, Qui-Gon turned and
strode off down the hallway, trusting his apprentice to go into
the room and do as he was told.
He didn't stop until he reached a large cargo hold as far from
his room and his apprentice as he could get. There was limited
space in the hold, but it was enough to do some of the more
restrictive katas if he didn't use his lightsaber.
Two hours later, Qui-Gon collapsed onto the floor in a sweaty
heap. The familiar exercises had helped calm his mind, and he
was ready to see if meditation could bring him the answers he
sought. He shifted into a position more conducive to
meditation, legs crossed, arms resting lightly on his thighs.
Eyes closed, he let the Force flow through him as his mind
drifted without conscious direction.
He wanted Xanatos. An obvious fact, but he needed a place to
start, and the blunt admission was as good a place as any.
Master/Padawan infatuations were not uncommon, from either side
of the relationship. But they generally occurred earlier in the
apprenticeship.
These feelings for his padawan were fairly new. Only a few
months before, they had been working in a training room at the
Temple. Qui-Gon had corrected a sloppy defense move by his
student, and as the young man repeated the move, Qui-Gon's
attention had been more on the ripple of young, strong muscles
beneath pale, silky skin than the skill they were working on.
He'd had to have Xanatos repeat the move three more times
before he'd been able to pay enough attention to declare it
passable.
That night, the dreams had begun. His subconscious seemed to
be unable to stop seeking out Xanatos when the young man was
engaged in his pleasurable pursuits. It was as if he was tuned
directly into his apprentice's emotions, and the moment he
sensed Xanatos was aroused, Qui-Gon couldn't stop himself from
having a look.
He'd told himself it was a reaction to Xanatos' impending
knighthood, an attempt to find a way to hold on to his student,
that his physical reaction was just because it had been so long
since he'd been intimate with another person. So he'd gone out
and found a very accommodating man, and thought about Xanatos
the whole time, no matter how hard he'd tried to keep his mind
on the man beneath him. When that didn't stop him from
obsessing, Qui-Gon tried sleeping with a woman, with the same
results. Finally he'd had to face facts; he wanted Xanatos.
Which left him in the same place he'd started--enamored with
his padawan and without and idea what to do about it.
Unless...no, he could not give in, not even now that he knew
Xanatos felt the same.
His thoughts went back again to the snippets of the dream he'd
intercepted, focusing on the intense desire he'd sensed from
the younger man as he'd dreamed of taking his master, and the
answering desire it awakened in him.
All thought of meditating on a solution left him. He tried
desperately to center himself as his fingers itched to grab his
erection and relieve the pressure the mere thought of his
apprentice created. His hands, however, seemed to have a mind
of their own, creeping across his thighs, moving down--
"Master?"
Qui-Gon jerked out of his meditation, staring up into the
clouded eyes of his apprentice. "Padawan! Did I not tell you to
stay in our room?"
"Yes, Master." The words, the low voice, thick with an emotion
Qui-Gon couldn't quite put his finger on, cut straight to the
core of him. "But I felt something...a call...through the
Force." The younger man knelt suddenly, his hand falling to
Qui-Gon's thigh, nearly sending the Jedi Master running from
the room. Xanatos' tongue snaked out, wetting his lips.
"Is...is everything all right, Master?"
"I'm fine, Padawan." Qui-Gon paused to clear his throat,
trying not to stare at the tempting mouth. "You should go back
and finish your meditations."
Xanatos settled on his knees and tucked his legs beneath him.
His hands rested more firmly on his master's thigh. "I have
found the source of my turmoil, Master."
A raised eyebrow was Qui-Gon's only reply. He didn't trust his
voice enough to speak. The warmth of Xanatos' hands had quickly
spread to his now painful erection. "I wonder though,
Master...do you feel it too? Is that the call I felt?"
Midnight blue eyes burned into his, not so much demanding the
truth as daring him to lie. Qui-Gon stared wordlessly, losing
himself as that look changed to one of certainty. He sat there,
frozen, as Xanatos leaned closer, inviting pink lips moving in
until they captured Qui-Gon's in a soft, probing kiss.
Hands that had been intent on stroking his own flesh now
reached for his padawan. They slid up the young man's forearms
to the muscular biceps, tracing every muscle he'd been
responsible for forming.
He reached for Xanatos' neck to pull him closer, intent on
dragging him down until they were lying on the floor together,
until they could be pressed against each other from head to
toe.
"Hey, Jedi!" Stieg Wa's voice rang out from the corridor
outside the cargo hold.
Qui-Gon pushed his student away and jumped to his feet,
shocked at his own behavior, but Xanatos smiled up at him,
completely unashamed.
Stieg Wa entered the room. "Master Jinn, I've been looking for
you all over the ship. There's a communication from Master
Yoda."
"Thank you." Qui-Gon replied, sparing the pilot a glance.
"I'll be right there."
Stieg Wa nodded and left. Qui-Gon turned his attention back to
his student. "We'll talk about this later," he said quietly.
"Yes, Master." The smile on Xanatos' mouth widened.
"For now, stay here and run through some katas. Use the
exercise to release your anger with Stieg Wa. I trust you will
not let his barbs get to you again?"
Xanatos shook his head, still smiling. "No, Master."
"Good. Now, get to work."
"As it pleases you, Master," his apprentice replied as he
stood, the proper phrase taking on volumes of meaning when
combined with the look on his face.
Qui-Gon turned and left before the promise in those words
could entice him to stay.
For the next two days, Xanatos was as good as his word. Stieg
Wa's continuous teasing was met with a smile and silence, but
no anger. Though Jedi were not supposed to feel pride, Qui-Gon
took a certain amount of pleasure in the quick attitude change.
He would make a fine knight soon.
It was the only pleasure the Jedi Master would allow himself.
Despite Xanatos' obvious frustration, and his own slightly
better hidden desires, he refused to give into what he wanted.
What they both wanted. But it was getting more and more
difficult.
On the third morning, Qui-Gon was running through katas in the
cargo hold when he sensed a sudden spike of danger through the
Force. He barely had time to get to the door before an
explosion rocked the ship, sending crates of droids smashing to
the ground, the broken boxes cluttering the space where he'd
been exercising moments before. More blasts slammed into the
ship as ran to the cockpit. Xanatos hovered just outside the
control area, watching Stieg Wa intently. The pilot banged on
controls on the wall for a moment, scowled, then jumped into
his chair and began steering them in all different directions.
"What happened?" Qui-Gon asked, unable to stop himself, even
if the pilot did need to concentrate.
"Pirates," Stieg Wa responded grimly.
"Pirates? I thought you turned the cloaking device on when we
entered their space."
"I did."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Then how did they find us?"
"The cloaking device wasn't working. The indicators were on,
but the device itself had been tampered with." He glared over
his shoulder at Xanatos, making it clear who he thought had
deactivated the system.
"I told you, I didn't touch your cloaking device!" the younger
Jedi protested. "Or anything else on your ship! You know, if
you'd just stop being so stubborn and surrender to them we
might make it out of this alive."
Stieg Wa shot Xanatos a heated glare. "Listen, kid, the next
time I want your advice--"
"Now is not the time to argue about this," Qui-Gon
interrupted. "Can we help, Stieg Wa?"
"Just stay out of my way. That'll be help enough."
The two Jedi stood just outside the cockpit, hanging onto
handles built into the wall for a moment before Qui-Gon stepped
inside. Despite the ungracious reception of his offer to help,
he couldn't help himself. "He's coming up on the starboard
side."
There was only the briefest flicker of hesitation before Stieg
Wa moved to counter the unseen ship. After another warning from
the Jedi Master kept them from a close call, Stieg Wa grimly
indicated the co-pilot's seat. Qui-Gon took the seat, careful
to keep his hands off the stick and offer verbal comments only.
Grabbing control from an unsuspecting pilot never accomplished
anything.
Finally Stieg Wa managed to elude the pirates and sat back in
his chair, surveying the panels in front of him. "We're going
to need some repairs before we can go back to full power. I'm
afraid you're going to be a little late getting to Telos."
"That can't be helped," Qui-Gon said immediately. "What can we
do?"
"You're welcome to help me with the repairs," the pilot said,
nodding at Qui-Gon. "But I want your student here to keep his
hands off my ship. He's done enough damage already!"
"But I--"
Qui-Gon silenced his apprentice with a look. "Why don't you
wait for me in our room?" After a pause, the young man nodded
stiffly and stalked off. "What proof do you have that he
sabotaged your ship?"
"Proof? Nothing beyond the fact that you two are the only
other ones on here."
"Oh? Why him? Why not me?"
He laughed. "Because you didn't even notice when I told you
the wrong panels for the cloak and the warning device. Both of
them were tampered with--not from the cockpit--and by someone
who knows a lot more about mechanics than you. I'm betting your
apprentice knows a lot about them."
"He does. But that still doesn't mean he did it."
"Well unless we've got ghosts running around here that I don't
know about...."
The Jedi master thought for a moment. "You say the tampering
wasn't in the cockpit? Where was it?"
"Near the back of the ship. The source of power for both
devices was rerouted so only power to the indicator lights
worked."
"And you checked this before leaving port to pick us up?"
The pilot blinked. "Well...no. I checked it when I docked at
home because I was reading some power fluctuations. But I don't
normally check that on a pre-flight unless the ship's been
damaged. It's not something that goes wrong on a ship."
"So it could have been tampered with at any time since you
last docked at your home port."
"In theory, yes. But--"
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I suggest you take great
care before accusing Jedi--or anyone else for that matter--of
acts of sabotage. I understand you and Xanatos don't get along,
and that would make him your main suspect from your past
experience. But I've known him all his life, and he would not
do such a thing."
Their gazes clashed for long moments, then Stieg Wa nodded. "I
will make sure I have more proof before I accuse anyone again."
His eyes were shrouded, as if he was afraid to say more.
Qui-Gon excused himself and made his way to his room. Xanatos
was sitting on the bed, but he jumped up as his master walked
in. "Master, I would never be so foolish as to sabotage a ship
I was on. Surely he must see that?"
"I know, Xanatos. It's all right. I believe the ship was
tampered with before he left his home to pick us up."
The young man sighed in relief. "I was afraid he would
convince you I was guilty."
"Do you think I know you so little? Have some faith in me."
"No, Master, it's just that lately...."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment. They did not have time
to deal with this properly now. But he couldn't let it go.
"Lately?"
"You...no, we have both been...not ourselves."
An understatement. "You're right. But now is not the time to
talk about it. We need to help Stieg Wa."
Xanatos' lower lip slipped out further, testing Qui-Gon's
resolve to put duty over desires yet again. "He will not let me
help."
"I'm sure we can get him to find something for you to do.
Let's go talk to him." He turned, his padawan falling in line
beside him as they traced their way through the halls back to
the cockpit.
Stieg Wa was reluctant to allow Xanatos to touch his ship, but
after a little pushing on Qui-Gon's part, he relented.
"You can fix the wiring in cargo hold B. Part of the auxiliary
power's been damaged--one of the blasts from the pirates hit
it, but it's fixable."
Xanatos nodded and turned to leave. Stieg Wa placed a hand on
his arm to stop him. "I'll be checking your work after you're
through, so no funny business."
The young Jedi stiffened slightly, as he met the pilot's cool
gaze with anger, then he gained control. No emotion showed on
his face as he nodded again and left.
A small smile formed on Qui-Gon's face as he watched his
apprentice's retreating form. Xanatos had learned much about
controlling his anger on this journey. Perhaps that was the
lesson Yoda had wanted him to learn.
He roused himself out of his musings and turned back to Stieg
Wa. "What can I do to help?"
"The damage in the last cargo hold was more than just me
losing some of my shipment." Both men began walking toward the
back of the ship as he spoke. "The boxes are piled on a vent
that needs to be clear to allow ventilation. If I go to full
speed with that stuff lying there, the engine could eventually
overheat, the boxes would catch on fire--you get the idea?"
"You need the boxes moved," Qui-Gon said dryly, summing up the
long explanation.
"Right. There's a loader in the storage area, if you can get
to it. I'm sorry I don't have any droids that can help you, but
I never did trust those things much. They can be reprogrammed.
I'll haul 'em, but I try to avoid using them. Besides," he
added as they reached an intersection in the maze of hallways
and stopped, "I kind of like doing the work myself."
"I understand. And don't worry, I think I can handle moving
boxes."
Stieg Wa looked down at the floor, his cheeks tinged with
pink. "I realize it's probably bad form to give a Jedi Master a
menial task, but everything else that needs to be done is
technical work, and you can't even tell one set of indicator
lights from the other."
Qui-Gon smiled. "We frequently get handed 'menial work,'" he
responded. "We serve the Force in whatever way is needed."
"Then I'll just say 'thank you' and let you get to work." The
pilot returned Qui-Gon's smile and walked off, leaving Qui-Gon
to head the opposite direction toward the cargo hold.
Qui-Gon moved unsteadily down the hall, exhaustion hampering
his usual grace. He stumbled, and only a quick tug with the
Force kept him from spilling the tray in his hands. The
physical and mental exertion of moving the damaged materials in
the cargo hold, combined with his lack of sleep over the past
week, had him in a near sleep-walk state. He had to sleep
before they arrived at Telos. Or the pirates came back. Or he
fell over trying to walk.
Finally, he made it to the room he shared with his apprentice.
He stopped outside the door to center himself, then went
inside. Xanatos was there, sitting on his bed, staring at the
wall. He started to get up, but Qui-Gon shook his head. "Stay
where you are," Qui-Gon said as he sat the tray down on a small
table at the foot of the bed, then settled onto the floor next
to it. "Evening meal," he explained unnecessarily.
"The bed is far more comfortable than the floor, Master,"
Xanatos said as they both began to eat. "Will you not sit
beside me?"
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth quirked up as he waved a hand
toward his own body. "The bed would be far less comfortable to
sleep in if I were to transfer even a portion of all this dirt
onto it." Even though he had used the Force to move the most of
the rubble, dirt and dust had been everywhere, and the more
objects he moved, the more clouded the air around him had
become. "I've come through sandstorms cleaner than this."
Xanatos smiled. "Stieg Wa stopped by long enough to say we
could use a full tub of water this evening. Shall I draw you a
bath?"
"You go first. I fear the water will be completely unusable by
the time I finish."
"Are you sure?" Qui-Gon nodded, trying to ignore the pang of
desire that slid through him as he watched his apprentice
gather his things and leave the room, the silent grace of the
movements enough to affect him in his present state. How could
he possibly control himself in the time it would take to
complete this mission? He could barely manage half the trip to
Telos!
He settled himself into a comfortable position and fell into a
light meditative trance, hoping to find the answers he needed.
Master/padawan relationships were frowned upon, but mostly
ignored unless it caused problems in training. So what kept him
from simply giving in? Was it his own perverse need to be the
perfect Jedi? Even the detachment he had sought from the trance
couldn't keep Qui-Gon from frowning at that. It was not his
conscious wish to be perfect. Yet he strived for it daily
without a second thought. But this hesitation was more than
just that need to excel. Something inside of him balked at
taking the final step. If only he could figure out what it was.
A knock at the door brought him out of the trance. "Enter."
Stieg Wa opened the door and stepped inside, leaning against
the door jamb. "All of the repairs are done except for one. I
need to go outside the ship to do it, and there's a meteor
storm right now."
Qui-Gon could hear the occasional ping of meteors striking the
hull of the ship. "Are we in danger?"
Stieg Wa shook his head. "They're not big enough to do any
damage to the ship, but they'd rip a hole in a space suit in a
heartbeat. Meteor storms are common in this sector and usually
last for several hours; it'll be clear by morning, and I'll be
able to finish. Then we'll hit full power and be out of this
damned system."
"Very well," Qui-Gon nodded, only then noticing the stiffness
in his neck. He checked the time and realized he'd been in his
trance far longer than he'd thought. What was taking Xanatos so
long? "We'll see you in the morning, then?" he said, returning
his attention to Stieg Wa.
"Bright and early," the pilot responded with a grin. "Have a
good sleep," he added as he left, closing the door behind him.
"It certainly would be a refreshing change," Qui-Gon muttered
as he rose, his legs protesting the movement. He should go
check on his padawan. Just a quick peek in the door to see if
the young man was all right. Certainly he could handle that.
Resolve hardened and shields up tight, he left their room and
went to the bathroom. The door was unlocked, so he opened it
quietly and looked in. Xanatos was still in the bathtub, eyes
closed, sound asleep. His hair was damp, black strands clinging
to his forehead, such a contrast to the pale, almost
translucent skin. One long leg hung over the side of the tub,
as did a slender arm. How anyone could manage to look so
elegant asleep in a bathtub was beyond Qui-Gon.
He swallowed hard before he cleared his throat. "Xanatos." The
word came out in a hoarse whisper, despite his attempts to make
his voice sound normal. "Xanatos," he said again, his voice
stronger and clearer this time.
The young man stirred, dark lashes at the ends of white
eyelids fluttering open to reveal deep blue eyes. "Master?" He
shook his head and sat up, the leg disappearing back into the
tub. "I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep."
"It's all right, Padawan. We're both tired."
"Yes, Master." The words were emphatic, and Qui-Gon got the
sense he meant more than just physically tired. Then Xanatos
stood, and Qui-Gon lost the ability to speak. He'd seen that
body in his dreams, in his apprentice's dreams, but it had been
a while since he'd seen it in the flesh. He found himself
instantly hard, his body on fire as he stared at the young man
before him, watching the play of muscles beneath skin that
begged to be touched, possessed, marked....
His arousal must have seeped through his shields and along the
bond. Xanatos stopped in the middle of drying his hair and
turned dark eyes smoldering with an answering flame toward his
Master. Even if Qui-Gon hadn't seen the arousal in the younger
man's eyes, and felt it through their bond, the thick shaft
jutting out from his hips would have given his padawan away.
Not that he seemed anxious to hide any of the signs. "I'll wait
in the other room," Qui-Gon said quickly, rushing out the door
before he could reach out and grab what he wanted.
Qui-Gon gathered his things quickly, ready to leave as soon as
Xanatos was finished. When his apprentice returned to the room,
Qui-Gon lowered his eyes as he brushed past the young man, glad
of the clothing in his hands, certain he would not have been
able to resist touching him if his hands had been free.
He made it to the bathroom before he allowed the full extent
of Xanatos' affect on him hit him. His knees gave out, the door
supporting his back as he sunk to the floor, eyes closed,
breath coming fast. He was doomed. Not even Master Yoda's
controls could withstand this kind of assault.
But he would fight it as long as he could. He opened his eyes
and stood, stripping off the layers of clothes as he crossed
the short distance to the tub. Surprise registered as he saw
there was steam rising from the water. He thought back
carefully and realized Xanatos had only had about half a tub of
water. His padawan must have filled the tub the rest of the way
before returning to their room, so his master would have hot
water.
Affection for the young man grew inside him, mixing with the
desire until it became almost impossible to resist the urge to
go next door and claim what he knew would be his one day. But
not yet. He pulled off the last of his clothing and sank into
the water, sighing from pure physical pleasure as the heat
instantly soothed the aches in his muscles from his earlier
exertion. He drifted along for a while, neither asleep nor
awake, just living in every moment with no thought to the next.
He had no idea how long he had been in there when his padawan's
presence disrupted his peace. His eyes opened, meeting the
younger man's gaze instantly, fighting against the fire he
found there.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment, then Xanatos slowly
moved forward. "You were gone so long I thought you might have
fallen asleep as well." The words were low and seductive,
despite the innocent meaning.
"I...I was meditating." His padawan stood directly over the
bathtub now, but Qui-Gon made no move to conceal himself.
Xanatos' eyes moved down the length of his body, lingering on
the obvious erection.
"Meditating on what exactly, Master?" There was
amusement in the voice, and something else.
Determination.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath as his padawan slipped off his
tunic and reached for the drawstring on his pants, pulling the
tie loose in a slow, mesmerizing motion. At that moment, he
couldn't have moved if ten fleets of pirates had attacked the
ship. He could only sit and watch, anticipation barely allowing
him to keep from pulling the young man into the water, pants
and all.
At last, the pants slid down the length of those beautiful
white legs, past his line of sight. Xanatos stepped out of
them, then moved to sit on the edge of the tub, bracing one
hand on either side and leaning down, closer and closer to his
target. "The time for running has passed, Qui-Gon," he
whispered, his lips not quite touching those of his master.
With a groan, Qui-Gon reached up and pulled on the back of his
apprentice's head, bringing those lips down to meet his own.
His mouth was devoured as Xanatos invaded with his tongue,
demanding complete surrender and finding it, kissing him with
an almost brutal intensity. Qui-Gon heard himself whimper as
Xanatos pulled away, but the younger man simply smiled as he
rose enough to step into the water, settling himself with one
leg on either side of his master.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, biting his lip to keep himself from
coming right then and there. Xanatos seemed to sense his need
to gain control before continuing, waiting until Qui-Gon's eyes
opened and he reached for his apprentice, pulling him down for
another kiss.
Nothing, not any of the dreams he'd had, none of the
situations he'd visited through Xanatos' eyes, had prepared him
for the reality of that smooth skin sliding along his, the
water easing the friction, and at the same time increasing the
sensation. He could feel every hair, every goose bump, every
skin cell wherever he touched his padawan. And he touched
everywhere he could. His hands couldn't get enough of that
skin, running down his padawan's back, across the tight cheeks
down to the back of his legs and up again to move to his chest.
The Jedi master circled one of the younger man's nipple with
his finger, feeling it harden into a stiff peak. But he wanted
more.
Qui-Gon pulled away from the kiss, lips moving down Xanatos'
chin to nibble on his neck, taking small nips until he worked
his way around to the juncture of the young man's neck and
shoulder. There he stopped, sucking hard on the skin,
determined to mark the paleness with his own dark brand,
savoring the feeling as his apprentice arched against him,
crying out with pleasure.
At last he pulled back and looked at the red patch, decided it
would do, and continued his journey, raising his apprentice up
higher onto his lap, intent on reaching those dark nipples with
his mouth. Their erections slid against each other as Xanatos
rose higher, tearing loud gasps from both of them. Qui-Gon
found one nipple with his mouth and began to worship it with
his tongue, tracing circles around it, teasing the hard nub
there, worrying it with his lips.
Xanatos laced his fingers through Qui-Gon's hair, his hold so
tight it hurt. The pain aroused Qui-Gon further, and he sought
to return the favor, biting down on the tip of the nipple in
his mouth and tugging gently, causing just enough pain to
quicken the pace of Xanatos' hips as he rocked against his
master, the motion shooting flames through Qui-Gon's entire
body. He longed to sheath himself inside the willing body he
held, to bury himself in that warmth.
His padawan caught the intent of that thought and smiled,
reaching behind himself and inserting one finger in his own
tight opening, closing his eyes in pleasure as he slid his own
finger in and out. The shocking action pushed Qui-Gon beyond
the point of no return, his lips capturing Xanatos' as he
replaced the young man's finger with two of his own. He
swallowed his apprentice's groan as two fingers became three
and Xanatos pushed himself as far down on those fingers as he
could. "More," he sighed against his master's lips.
Qui-Gon removed his fingers and lifted Xanatos up, positioning
the young man over his master's shaft. He held onto the last
thread of his control enough to look into his padawan's eyes,
to be absolutely sure this was what he wanted. Xanatos' only
answer was to lower himself onto Qui-Gon's erection, inching
down slowly until they met skin to skin, Qui-Gon buried as far
inside his apprentice as he could go.
They stayed that way for a long moment, not moving, committing
this first time to memory. Then Xanatos whispered softly, "Oh,
Master. Qui-Gon...." The words broke the spell, and they began
to move as fast and as hard as they could, knocking half of the
water out of the tub in their driving need for completion.
Their mouths met in hard kisses, lips and tongues seeking to
devour each other just as their bodies were doing below.
Xanatos pulled out of the kiss and leaned back, arms supporting
him from elbows to hands on the side of the tub, and shifted
his position slightly, changing the angle of his master's
erection inside him.
Both men cried out at the sensation, quickly returning to that
hard, fast pace. Xanatos let go of the tub with one hand,
reaching down to enclose his own erection with his hand,
pulling and tugging at his shaft with as much energy as he
could. He came quickly, the reflexive tightening of his muscles
around Qui-Gon's erection bring the master over the brink as
well. They rode the waves out together, hips slowly undulating
after the initial overwhelming pleasure subsided, seeking to
pull every last drop of feeling out of the moment.
Finally, Xanatos collapsed against his master's chest, lips
nuzzling his neck weakly as they both let their breathing slow
naturally, in no hurry to end this joining. After they had both
calmed somewhat, Qui-Gon rubbed a finger over the mark of
possession at the base of Xanatos' neck. "Mine," he whispered,
not a question, not a claim, just a simple statement of fact.
Xanatos raised up enough to meet his eyes. "As you are mine."
He could feel the younger man's erection firming again as he
pulled him forward, meeting his lips in a bruising kiss as they
began all over again.
Eventually the water grew cold, and the hour late. Still,
Qui-Gon roused his sleeping apprentice with reluctance, placing
a kiss on the temple closest to him and whispering the young
man's name.
Xanatos stirred, then settled more comfortably against his
master's body. The movement brought Qui-Gon's desire rushing
back full-force, but he held it in check. "The water is cold,
Padawan. We need to go back to our room."
"But I'm comfortable here." Xanatos' lips moved against
Qui-Gon's neck as he spoke, further fuel to the fire Qui-Gon
was barely holding in check to begin with. "Besides," he added,
raising his head to smile wickedly at his master, "we can keep
each other warm."
Qui-Gon accepted one kiss before pushing his apprentice away.
"Yes, we can. But not here. Up. Now."
Xanatos did as he was told, lower lip stuck out in silent
protest. As soon as he stood he wrapped his arms around
himself, shivering. "It's cold!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Qui-Gon had pulled
a large bath sheet around his back and was drying off, but
Xanatos had other ideas. He took advantage of Qui-Gon's open
arms to trace a line down the center of his chest before
leaning in until their skin touched completely from shoulders
to knees.
Qui-Gon put his arms around the young man, wrapping them both
in the large sheet. "What are you doing?" he asked. His tone,
however, failed to even hint at sternness, as Xanatos' chest
slid along his own, creating almost unbearable friction.
"Getting warm," Xanatos replied with a wicked grin, rubbing
against his master once more before leaning in for a kiss. His
hand traveled down Qui-Gon's back, slipping between his cheeks
to test the opening there.
Qui-Gon groaned, his arms dropping to his sides as he pulled
away from the warm body. "Our room," he said softly, as he
wrapped another bath sheet around his apprentice. "I'll be
along in a minute."
"Come with me now," Xanatos requested, tugging at his master's
arm.
"Stieg Wa could see us. It's too risky."
The pout turned into a frown. "You're ashamed. Of this--of
us."
"No. I simply want this part of our lives to be for us. Not
for the Jedi--at least until you are knighted." He caressed
Xanatos' cheek. "I will not have your knighthood tainted by
idle talk. You deserve better than that."
The quiet determination of those words seemed to reassure the
young man. He nodded, wrapping the sheet tightly around
himself, picked up his clothes, and left quickly. Qui-Gon
emptied the tub, cleaned up what water hadn't drained into the
grates in the floor, then gathered his own clothing and left.
He barely had time to shut the door to their room before
Xanatos was on him, lips and hands demanding as he pulled
Qui-Gon toward the nearest bed. The clothing fell from
Qui-Gon's hands, then the sheet disappeared as well, leaving
them both naked as they tumbled onto the bed, Xanatos writhing
underneath his master, burning thin trails of fire down the
older man's back with his nails.
"I want you," Xanatos gasped, in between tastes of Qui-Gon's
shoulder and neck. "Want..." a pause to slide his hand down
Qui-Gon's back to the small opening between his cheeks, "inside
you." He thrust one finger into the opening, biting down on
Qui-Gon's shoulder as the master arched up with a gasp. "Now.
Please."
Qui-Gon groaned in response, pushing back against that finger,
trying to take it as far inside himself as he could. "Yes," he
breathed, thrusting harder as Xanatos inserted two fingers,
then three. He shuddered as they touched a spot deep inside him
that sent sharp arcs of pleasure coursing through him. His mind
began to replay the dream he'd seen while his padawan slept
back at the Temple. "Inside me," he growled, pulling away from
that maddening touch with effort, and sliding onto the floor,
dragging his apprentice with him.
For a moment Xanatos glared, angry to have lost the closeness
of skin on skin, then he realized what his master intended. A
wicked grin spread across his face. "Yes, Master." Qui-Gon
rolled over onto his stomach, then raised himself up onto his
knees and elbows, resting his forehead on the smooth durasteel
floor, the coolness of the metal helping him to calm his heated
body a little.
Xanatos' hands landed on his master's hips, causing the older
man to shiver as they slid slowly up his sides, to his
shoulders. A warm chest slowly lined the length of Qui-Gon's
back, warming him again quickly as his apprentice resumed
biting at his neck and shoulders. The younger man was moving
his hips against his master's backside, his erection sliding
teasingly in and out of the space between his cheeks. Qui-Gon
reared his head back, offering more of his neck, but Xanatos
moved his lips away, kissing his way down his master's spine
until he reached the small of the man's back.
Slowly, Xanatos traced a wet line down between Qui-Gon's
cheeks, parting them with his hands to gain better access. He
thrust his tongue into the opening there, wetting his master to
make the entry easier. Xanatos moved away suddenly but before
Qui-Gon had time to protest, he was back, and Qui-Gon swallowed
a whimper as his padawan's erection pushed at his opening,
meeting the resistance with firm pressure.
A moment more, and then Xanatos won out, breaking the surface
to rest just inside his master's tight channel. The burn of the
invasion warred with the pleasure of finally having this man
inside him. As his padawan began to slowly sink further into
him, the burn began to fade, replaced more and more by the
overwhelming satisfaction of being taken, and by the intense
pleasure Xanatos was broadcasting through their bond.
Passion swirled around them and through them, increasing in
waves as they fed off each other's desire. Qui-Gon could sense
they were both about to reach the pinnacle, wanted to slow down
and draw it out, but couldn't. He came with a hoarse shout,
felt his padawan follow him into ecstasy, both of them riding
out the wave of bliss before collapsing onto the floor.
As their breathing began to return to normal, Qui-Gon started
to realize the floor was very cold and very hard. He smiled
when he moved and Xanatos groaned in protest. "Not to sound
redundant, Padawan, but it's cold down here."
Qui-Gon felt his apprentice smile against his back. "If you
are cold, then perhaps I did not fulfill my end of this
bargain," Xanatos said lazily.
"That was most definitely not the problem," he
answered, then moved again. "The bed would be warmer, not to
mention far more comfortable."
The younger man sighed. "I suppose you are right. But only if
you plan on sleeping in the same bed as me. Otherwise I'm not
letting you up."
"Well, it would definitely be warmer if we shared body heat."
"I'll show you body heat," Xanatos growled, writhing against
his master.
"Padawan...bed. To sleep," he added, just in case he
was misread.
Xanatos pouted, but he let his master up from the floor. "As
long as I can sleep in your arms, that will have to do."
"I wouldn't have you anywhere else," Qui-Gon said immediately,
leaning in for a long kiss before he turned off the lights.
"Sleep," he reminded softly.
"Yes, Master." They climbed onto the bed, not bothering with
clothing, and curled up together under the blanket. Qui-Gon
listened as his padawan's breathing quickly fell into sleep
patterns. He tried to follow the young man into slumber, but
couldn't quite relax enough. The enormity of what they'd done,
and what they'd have to do to keep it quiet, weighed down on
him, heavy in the dark silence.
It was a long time before he slept.
He knew before he was fully awake. Before he remembered,
without even opening his eyes, Qui-Gon was aware he was wrapped
in his padawan. He could feel the young man's distinctive
presence in the Force, could smell him with every breath, could
feel the smooth skin of Xanatos' forehead against his chin and
lips, his hair tickling Qui-Gon's nose. And he could feel warm
skin touching his own all the way down his body--an arm wrapped
around his chest, a side warming his stomach, a leg draped over
both of his own, and the soft flesh between his apprentice's
legs that began to harden as Qui-Gon moved against all that
tempting skin.
Xanatos stirred, and Qui-Gon felt the young man smile against
his shoulder, then place a quick kiss there. The master's eyes
remained closed as lips were replaced by a tongue that traced a
line of wet heat down to one nipple, as a deft hand made its
way lazily down Qui-Gon's torso to his growing erection. The
tongue followed the hand's path, stopping now and then to take
little bites as it delved lower. Fingertips teased the master
moments before his padawan's mouth engulfed him, sending him up
in flames.
"Xan--" the word cut off with a groan as Xanatos sucked hard,
reaching down to tease Qui-Gon's balls now as he worked his
magic with his mouth. Qui-Gon threaded his fingers through his
apprentice's short hair, barely managing to restrain himself
from gripping the young man's head to the point of unbearable
pain as he slowly began to thrust into that oh-so-talented
mouth.
The knock at the door elicited a groan of a different kind.
Qui-Gon's hips stilled, and his eyes flew open, but Xanatos
refused to stop. "Yes?" Qui-Gon managed to choke out, hoping it
was loud enough for Stieg Wa to hear, because he didn't think
he could manage another word.
"Breakfast in twenty minutes. Then I'm going to get started on
the last of the repairs."
"Thank--" A quick biting of his own lip kept Qui-Gon from
shouting as Xanatos slipped two fingers inside him, even as the
young man continued his work with his mouth. Somewhere in the
distant real world, Qui-Gon heard Stieg Wa's footsteps grow
fainter and fade, not that it mattered much. He couldn't have
stopped himself from responding at this point if his life had
depended on it.
He closed his eyes again, holding onto his sanity even as
Xanatos tried to drive him crazy. His mind supplied the image
he'd seen in the brief moments his eyes had been open. Xanatos,
dark head between Qui-Gon's legs, pale skin spread out below,
pink lips covering his erection, a look of sheer pleasure on
his face. And one long look into the black eyes rimmed with
deepest blue, a look of total possession. Of desire. Of
ownership.
The wealth of passionate feeling behind that last emotion was
enough to send Qui-Gon over the edge, as he arched his back and
came, dimly aware of his padawan holding on for the ride.
After, he lay there for several minutes, just breathing until
he could think again. When he finally returned to some
semblance of coherency, it was to find his apprentice stroking
himself, face buried in Qui-Gon's hair, body alongside his
master, touching every inch of the way.
Wordlessly, Qui-Gon slid down the young man's body and took
his shaft all the way into his mouth, swallowing around the
tip. Xanatos arched up, his hips inches off the bed as he
climaxed with a shout of his master's name, then collapsed back
onto the bed. Qui-Gon crawled back up next to him, gathering
him in his arms.
Xanatos' breathing finally slowed enough to allow him to
speak. "Good morning, Master."
Qui-Gon laughed. "That it is indeed."
They lay there for a few more minutes, Qui-Gon steadfastly
refusing to think of consequences. The ramifications of this
could stay in the back of his mind and needle him all they
wanted; he wasn't bringing them out into the light of day. Not
yet. There would be time for that later. "We must get up," he
said at last, placing a kiss on his padawan's head and sitting
up in the bed.
"Why?" The sulky tone was at odds with Xanatos' actions, as he
followed his master's example and stood, reaching for his
clothes.
"Because Stieg Wa has breakfast ready. And I've seen you when
you're hungry."
Xanatos grinned then, a dangerous light in his eyes as he
finished pulling on his pants. He stalked over to his master,
wrapping his arms around the older man. "I'm hungry now," he
growled as he fastened his lips to Qui-Gon's shoulder.
"For food, Padawan." The tone was forceful, but Qui-Gon was
slow to push the young man away. He did finally extricate
himself, and the two of them finished dressing and headed out
to find Stieg Wa.
Breakfast was a quick affair, all of them anxious to be out of
the Landor system and away from the pirates. Stieg Wa finished
first, dumping his dirty dishes in the cleaning unit before the
Jedi had finished half of their own meals. "I'm going to suit
up and finish the repairs on the platform. We should be ready
to leave shortly."
"Be careful," Qui-Gon said. Stieg Wa was an experienced pilot,
and had no doubt done things like this numerous times, but any
trip outside the ship in a space suit carried an extra risk.
There was no such thing as too much caution.
The pilot grinned. "I always am."
As Qui-Gon finished his breakfast, he felt his padawan's gaze
on him the whole time. He steadfastly refused to look at the
young man, but after a few minutes of that intense scrutiny, he
had to say something. "Padawan...."
"Yes, Master?" The polite words held a silky undercurrent of
pure sex that sent Qui-Gon's pulse racing.
"You must control yourself," Qui-Gon admonished, finally
meeting Xanatos' eyes. "Others will be looking for signs of our
relationship. If we are to keep it secret until your
knighthood, you must bury your feelings deep."
Xanatos' eyes narrowed to thin slits. "Am I not even allowed
to look at you when we are alone?"
"When we are alone you may do as you please," the Jedi master
answered, a shiver running through him at the thought of things
that might please his padawan. "But Stieg Wa could return at
any moment."
"Stieg Wa does not have any Force ability. He wouldn't be able
to sense anything from me."
"He wouldn't need to. Anyone with eyes could figure out
exactly what you were thinking just now."
Xanatos took a deep breath. "I will endeavor to be more
careful in public in the future, my Master." His voice now held
a sulky note, a sign of the willfulness the young man had never
quite outgrown. In truth, Qui-Gon had not pushed him to subdue
that trait nearly as much as the rest of the Order would have
dictated. He had found from personal experience that sometimes
a little willfulness was more of a help than a vice when it
came to dealing with the Council.
"We'd best get this cleaned up and prepare to leave," Qui-Gon
said, taking his dishes to the cleaner. "We'll need--"
A sharp blast to the side of the ship interrupted him, sent
him flying across the room, almost into his apprentice's lap.
"The pirates--Stieg Wa!" Qui-Gon yelled, already running for
the door.
Xanatos was right behind him. "There's only one more suit
where he is. I'll get one from the other hatch and meet you
back there as soon as I can."
Qui-Gon nodded, turning down the hall toward the back of the
ship as his padawan went the other way. He made it to a
porthole close to the dorsal platform in time to see Stieg Wa,
hurrying toward the door. Qui-Gon braced himself against the
wall as another blast rocked the ship. He regained his balance
and looked out the porthole again to see Stieg Wa clutching his
arm, unable to cover the blaster hole in his suit. Pirates were
already rocketing over to the ship, jet packs on the back of
their space suits making it a quick journey.
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out with the Force,
intending to fend off the pirates until Stieg Wa could get back
to the door. When he looked again, however, the pirates had
reached the ship unhindered. He frowned, then concentrated
harder, but to no avail.
"Sith!" Qui-Gon put the Force problem aside to wonder about
later. He looked around, found a space suit, and began the
laborious task of putting it on as his apprentice rounded the
corner.
"What are you doing?" Xanatos demanded. "Have you lost your
mind?"
"I'm going out there to save him!"
Xanatos looked out the porthole. "You can't go out there! The
pirates are already on their way--if you go out there they'll
capture you too."
"I won't leave him to be captured!" Qui-Gon pulled the suit up
and started sealing it shut.
Xanatos knocked his master's hands away, ripping the seals
off. "You can't take them all! And I won't let them take you!"
Qui-Gon fought him, neither man able to accomplish anything
while they battled. "Padawan! I will save him!" He
managed to shove Xanatos off, but before he could get to the
door, his apprentice had a firm grip on his arm.
"You can't! Look!" Xanatos jerked him roughly over to the
window. "They have him! And if we don't leave they'll have us
too. Do you know what Jedi go for on the black market?"
"I--" His training gnawed at him, urging him to stay and
fight, but the pirates were closer to their own ship than Stieg
Wa's, and he could not face all of them and the guns of
their ship and hope to win.
"Master. Qui-Gon. We must go." He pulled on his
master's arm, tugging him toward the escape pods. After a
moment, Qui-Gon nodded. He took one last look at Stieg Wa,
being carried back to the pirate ships by one man, while three
more began opening the hatch that would lead them to the
hallway the Jedi were standing in, then turned silently,
following his padawan to the pods.
They made it there in seconds. Xanatos picked the first one,
yanking the hatch open and dragging his master inside, almost
as if he were afraid Qui-Gon would change his mind. Only when
the hatch was sealed and the pod had jettisoned did Xanatos
allow his grip on Qui-Gon's arm to loosen. Not that he let the
older man go--instead he climbed onto him, facing him in the
odd bench-like seat that tilted slightly, enabling the padawan
to stare down at his master. "I thought I might lose you," he
breathed.
"I'm still here," Qui-Gon reminded him with a shaky smile.
Xanatos' answer was to kiss his master soundly.
After a few moments, Qui-Gon pushed him back. "We need to set
the coordinates before we drift too far."
"They're already set. I set them myself after the first
attack."
Qui-Gon frowned at him, a faint sliver of unease working into
his mind. "Why would you do that?"
"Are you kidding? After we'd been attacked once and were
sitting dead in pirate space? The odds were against us. And I
always leave a back door, even when the odds are good."
A reasonable point in favor of the action. Qui-Gon shoved the
unease away, focusing instead on the fact that they were now
safe, even if the same could not be said for Stieg Wa. The pod
had a homing beacon that they didn't dare turn on, but no com
equipment. He would have to contact the Temple when they
reached Telos and have knights sent to track Stieg Wa. The
pilot had been captured serving the Jedi; he would not just be
left to his fate. Not without a fight.
"Master," Xanatos sighed, tucking his face into the crook of
Qui-Gon's neck. "Promise me you won't take risks like that
again."
"I shall do what I must." He relented slightly as his
padawan's arms tightened around him. "But I will promise to be
careful."
Xanatos raised his head to look down at him. "Then I will hold
you to that," he said earnestly. He lowered his lips to meet
Qui-Gon's, placing a relieved kiss there, then looked over his
own shoulder at the control panel. "We have two days till we
reach Telos," he said, returning his attention to his master, a
dangerous gleam in his eyes. "What shall we do to occupy
ourselves in the meantime?"
"We shall meditate," Qui-Gon answered. He knew what his
padawan was hinting at. He could feel the young man's growing
erection against his own, sense Xanatos' relief at their escape
and need to feel everything, to know they were both unharmed
and quite alive. And he felt the same need growing inside
himself.
However, they needed to conserve their strength, and be fully
aware of everything around them. Sex with Xanatos, in any form,
tended to shut out the rest of the galaxy. And Qui-Gon needed
to meditate on the problem he'd had with the Force on the ship.
"Hm...perhaps we can meditate later?" the young man replied,
rubbing his hips against Qui-Gon's.
The Jedi Master wavered, but his resolve held. "Padawan. We
must keep our attention focused on our surroundings." He hated
to see the hurt look in Xanatos' eyes as the rebuke hit home,
but he had no choice. In normal situations, Xanatos was hard to
deter when he wanted something. In this kind of situation,
Qui-Gon knew he would be nearly impossible, but Jedi Master
refused to waiver.
After a moment, Xanatos realized his pouting wasn't going to
work. "Yes, Master," he growled, giving in, but not even
pretending to be gracious about it. "But I'm not moving."
"Fine." They could meditate like this--there was precious
little space to sit as it was. The pod was cramped and cold,
meant for survival, not for comfort, and at least this way they
would conserve heat. "But meditate," he commanded firmly.
"Focus your attention outward, and be alert for danger."
"Yes, Master." The tone was even angrier, but Xanatos did as
he was told, closing his eyes and curling into his master.
Qui-Gon sensed him settling into a light trance, sending out
tendrils of the Force, searching for possible problems.
Qui-Gon allowed himself one moment to breathe in his
apprentice's scent before he settled into a trance himself,
finding no problems with his Force connection, but putting the
question of that earlier difficulty aside as he kept watch
while they made their way to Telos.
Qui-Gon settled back on the bed with a sigh and closed his
eyes. After two days cramped up in the escape pod, they'd made
it to Telos, but he'd had to call the Council and deal with
Stieg Wa's capture and the sticky questions it created. He'd
managed to get away without having to answer too many directly.
He still hadn't figured out what happened to his Force
abilities on the ship, and he wasn't anxious to answer
questions regarding his apprentice in any capacity.
He reached for his neck, kneading the muscles there, trying to
relax them. Every muscle in his body ached--whoever designed
those escape pods must have meant them for Ewoks. He could use
a massage. A very long massage. Xanatos had gone off with his
father as soon as they'd been rescued from the pod and brought
back to Thani. The capital of Telos had much to offer in the
way of entertainment, but Qui-Gon much preferred the solitude
of his room. Or the company of his apprentice, if the young man
ever showed up.
As if on cue, Xanatos walked in. Qui-Gon watched as he crossed
quickly to the bed, flopping down on his stomach with his head
propped on his fist, and studied his master. "Sore, Master?"
"Those pods aren't built for any person of normal height, much
less two tall men."
Xanatos grimaced sympathetically, reaching out to rub
Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I'm a bit sore myself. But I know what
will fix that."
"Hmmm?" Qui-Gon responded, leaning into the soothing touch of
his padawan's hand and closing his eyes again.
"The chau'baq."
His eyes opened again. "The what?"
"Chau'baq. It's a large tub, with hot water, and--well, I'll
show you. Come on." He tugged on his master's arm, pulling him
into a sitting position, then moving away from the bed. He
crossed to Qui-Gon's pack and searched through it, then
frowned. "I think there were some...just a minute." Qui-Gon
stared after him, eyes fixed on the empty doorway until Xanatos
returned. "Here," his apprentice said, dropping a garment on
the bed. "Put that on and meet me in the lounge. Down the hall
to the right, third door on the left."
The Jedi master eyed the flimsy garment warily. "Why?"
A gleam entered Xanatos' eyes. "If I stay in this room while
you change, I suspect neither of us will be leaving for a
while."
"There is that," Qui-Gon agreed softly, a smile finally
crossing his lips. "I'll meet you in a few minutes."
Xanatos nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him,
and leaving Qui-Gon to contemplate the rather small amount of
fabric he'd been left with and just what he was getting himself
into.
Qui-Gon made his way slowly down the hall, pausing to admire
the statues that lined the marble floor. The hallway was just
like the rest of the house--rich and impressive. And cold, he
added as a draft blew by, causing him to pull his robe tighter.
Unwilling to wander around in the skimpy short pants Xanatos
had left him with, he'd opted to wear his robe as well.
Undoubtedly it was much warmer in this chau'baq Xanatos was
luring him to. The thought of warmth and his padawan lured him
down the hall and through the door. The room was indeed warmer,
and held a pleasant scent Qui-Gon couldn't quite place. He
followed the sound of quiet voices and a faint bubbling noise
around a corner to find his padawan sitting in a large tub next
to his father.
Xanatos turned as Qui-Gon approached the tub. "Master! I was
beginning to think you were lost."
"I was admiring the statues in the hall. You have a lovely
home, Crion."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I have had much time alone to travel
and collect art over the years."
"Won't you join us, Master?" Xanatos held his braid in his
hand, sliding it through the water surrounding him. "The water
is very soothing; I hardly feel any of the aches from being in
that pod now."
His apprentice stretched, leaving Qui-Gon fighting both the
memories of the last time he'd shared a tub of hot water with
the young man, and the sight of all that glistening wet skin.
The bubbling of the water was, thankfully, keeping everything
below it from view. If he'd been faced with the entire form of
his padawan at once...well, he would do what he needed to do to
ensure that they were not discovered, but it would have
strained him.
As he dropped his robe and stepped into the tub, Qui-Gon
noticed Xanatos was the picture of composure. His father sat
next to him with no idea of what was going through the young
man's head. But any Force user would have been slammed with the
emotions rolling from him in waves.
Qui-Gon frowned at his padawan as he sat down opposite him, a
warning to strengthen his shields. Emotions released into the
Force with such intensity could have side effects on anyone
around them. Xanatos' mouth tightened and his eyes darkened,
but the emotions eased until they were barely noticeable.
Admiring the ability it took to close such strong feelings off
so quickly, Qui-Gon sent his padawan a smile, but it was met
with a cool gaze. Before Qui-Gon could wonder about that look,
it was gone, replaced by a cheerful smile as Xanatos talked to
his father.
With a mental shrug, Qui-Gon leaned back and closed his eyes,
pushing his hair onto the shelf behind him as he sank down
until the hot water covered his shoulders up to his neck. The
bubbles in the water were created by jets of air that shot out
of various spots in the side of the tub. He leaned against four
of them, letting them massage all of the knots out of his back.
Jets near the bottom of the tub worked out the pains in his
legs. Within minutes he was more relaxed than he'd been
since...since his time in the bathtub with Xanatos.
He pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment,
the soothing heat of the water, the pounding of the jets at his
aching muscles, the foot trailing its way up his leg--
Sith! Only years of training kept Qui-Gon from jumping out of
the water. If he didn't know better he'd swear Xanatos was
trying to kill him! One of his eyes cracked open enough to look
at his apprentice, whose attention was totally focused on his
father. At least it appeared that way. And yet, one of his feet
was slowly making its way up Qui-Gon's calf, across his knee
and down the length of his thigh. It stopped at the barrier of
the shorts, then one toe dipped under the fabric and ran along
the edge, pressing against the skin.
That touch of skin on skin sensitized by the swirling water
raised goose bumps all over Qui-Gon's body. He nearly gasped
when the foot disappeared, but it quickly reappeared, tracing
the outline of his erection through his shorts. He did gasp
then, mouth opening just far enough for water to sneak in, and
he coughed. Both men turned to him, almost identical
expressions of curiosity on their faces. "Are you all right,
Master?" Xanatos asked, tone solicitous and polite, even as
that foot grew bolder, massaging the swollen flesh beneath the
fabric.
"Fine." Somehow Qui-Gon managed to keep his voice even as he
sat there, being brought nearly to an orgasm by his
padawan--right in front of the young man's thankfully oblivious
father. Just when he thought he would no longer be able to stop
himself, the foot retreated, drawing itself back down his leg
and away.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, focusing his energies on
dispersing his lust without causing an orgy nearby. He managed
to get his need down to a bearable level, to where he did not
have to concentrate on controlling his breathing when he felt
it again.
This time Xanatos let his toenails lightly scrape up the side
of Qui-Gon's leg, all the way to the edge of the fabric. The
young man shifted, a natural movement in the midst of his
conversation, but a move that in reality gave him more reach.
His entire leg drifted over Qui-Gon's for a moment before the
foot grazed his renewing erection.
The foot slid downward, below his shaft to caress the opening
behind it through the fabric. Qui-Gon couldn't suppress a
shiver at that feeling, and at the memories that assailed him.
He couldn't take anymore. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon stood,
stalking over to the stairs and stepping out of the chau'baq.
"I feel much better," he said as he busied himself pulling on
his robe, neatly avoiding Crion's eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry
to break up the reunion, but I need my Padawan for a few
things. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course." Crion nodded to his son as the Xanatos rose and
followed his master out of the room. Qui-Gon couldn't look at
his padawan as he strode down the hall to his room, but he knew
the young man was right behind him. He could feel him there,
feel the heat pulsing between them.
Qui-Gon threw the door open, only to hear it slam shut just as
quickly. His world spun, and he found himself shoved up against
the door, the polished wood smooth against his cheek and his
chest as his robe was yanked from his shoulders. His hair was
shoved aside as teeth grazed at his neck, a wet braid slid
along his back, and he heard a rip, followed by cool air on his
hips. The shorts, he realized dazedly; Xanatos had ripped them
off.
Then he lost coherent thought as one thumb made its way into
his opening, working the muscle there easily. The thumb was
replaced with a knuckle, the width of the bent finger
stretching him further as he writhed against the door.
"Please..." Qui-Gon grated out, breathing hard as he thrust
back onto those fingers, wanting more.
Xanatos stopped his assault on his master's neck long enough
for two words. "Please what?"
"Inside me...you. Now!"
The young man laughed harshly, biting on Qui-Gon's neck. "It's
not nice to demand," he murmured, lips moving against his
master's skin. "But as it happens," he added, "I want to be in
you."
He moved away long enough to remove his own shorts, and then
he was inside his master in one quick thrust. Qui-Gon cried
out, his hands sliding down the door to reach for his own
erection, but Xanatos stopped him.
"Mine," the padawan grated out, still moving inside his master
as he pinned both Qui-Gon's arms to the wall and held them
there. Qui-Gon bit his lip as he was repeatedly pounded into
the door, the sensation of his rock-hard erection sliding
between the wood and his stomach just enough to leave him
wanting more. Much more.
Over and over, the friction of the cool door and the heat of
his own skin, the thickness sliding in and out of his body, the
sensation of teeth, lips and tongue all over his shoulders and
neck, and of hot, damp skin along the length of his back slowly
drove him toward insanity. He tried to move his hands again,
but Xanatos pushed them against the door even harder, keeping
them there with a bruising grip. Finally Xanatos let go of his
arms, reached down to his hips and pulled them away from the
door leaving Qui-Gon to brace himself against the door or fall
down. The Jedi Master howled as Xanatos thrust deeper into him
at a new angle, stroking a place inside of him that set him on
fire.
And then Xanatos' hands were on him, and that was the
beginning of the end. He climaxed with such a force it shook
him to the core, took him completely out of himself for what
felt like forever, and at the same time not nearly long enough.
He was surprised to still be standing when it was over. His
legs and arms held him up until Xanatos came inside him with a
hoarse shout, his teeth sinking into Qui-Gon's shoulder. They
both collapsed to the floor, Xanatos wrapped around his master,
holding tightly as if he had no intention of ever letting go.
Eyes closed, savoring the moment, Qui-Gon felt lips moving
against his neck. "Mine," his padawan breathed, tongue reaching
out to slide along his nape.
"Yes," he responded softly, his arms tightening on the ones
gripping his midsection. He could not deny that he was owned;
to ignore the truth would be far too dangerous.
Lips moved on him again, tracing a lazy line down his shoulder
before Xanatos stilled, nose pressed against his master's back,
breathing deeply, drawing out the moment for as long as it
could last.
Eventually, they separated, dressing for evening meal despite
Xanatos' insistence that he'd really rather stay in the room.
Privately, Qui-Gon agreed with him, but it wouldn't help
matters to encourage his padawan to forsake duty for pleasure.
He reminded the young man to calm himself inside and out, so
that no outward signs of their deeper relationship would be
detected--by Force users, or by Xanatos' father. The idea of
explaining any of this to Crion was not high of Qui-Gon's list
of things not to do.
As Qui-Gon pulled on his tunic, he realized that steeling
himself not to show any signs of the last half hour was not
going to be easy. The textured fabric grazed over the bruises
and bites his padawan had left on his back and shoulders, a
constant reminder that left him half-hard by the time he was
finished getting dressed. He'd have to remember not to move
much at the evening meal.
Owned. That thought slipped through his mind again. The marks
of his ownership would be evident to anyone who saw him without
his tunic. But he didn't need to see them. There were already
much deeper marks on the inside.
"Master?" Xanatos stood at the door, the picture of calm.
Qui-Gon felt the Force around his padawan, but could sense no
trace of the young man's emotions.
"Let's go." As Qui-Gon brushed past him, Xanatos reached out,
running a finger over a particularly sensitive mark on
Qui-Gon's shoulder. The Jedi master barely suppressed a shiver,
frowning at the young man, who grinned up at him.
The presence of a passing servant kept Qui-Gon from further
action. He put the situation aside to deal with later. For now,
he concentrated on controlling his own reactions and dealing
with his duties.
Xanatos led the way to the dining hall, a cavernous room lined
with holopaintings by some of the best artists in the galaxy.
Qui-Gon recognized one gold-framed work that he had seen
before, in the palace on D'vrai. Something about the way the
shapes shifted had unsettled him then, and his reaction this
time was no different.
Or perhaps it was just current circumstances that were
unsettling.
Crion sat at the end of a table that could easily seat several
dozen guests, beckoning the two Jedi to the chairs on either
side of him. As he took his seat, Qui-Gon eyed the painting
again. It had to have cost a small fortune. Telos seemed to be
doing quite well financially--why would they need to
renegotiate the terms of their contract with Nardir? He had no
way of knowing, not until he visited the other planet and saw
for himself what was going on in both places. He would have to
make arrangements to visit Nardir soon.
A servant put a plate down in front of Qui-Gon and spread the
Jedi Master's napkin across his lap. He picked up his spoon and
tasted the soup before she could help him with that as well.
"You have an excellent cook, Governor."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I became so accustomed to fine food
wherever I traveled that I confess I had to search far and wide
for a cook who could match that quality. But I found one, and I
pay him well to ensure he does not leave."
"I can see why. This is excellent."
Crion tasted the soup himself and smiled. "I would have
thought as Jedi you would eat like kings wherever you go," he
said, more to his son than to Qui-Gon.
"Hardly," Xanatos answered. A rueful smile curled his lips.
"We do well occasionally, but for the most part it's either
space rations, or our hosts assume we are minimalists who care
nothing for comfort or good food, and we get bland, tasteless
drivel."
"Padawan...." At the subtle rebuke, Xanatos looked down at his
soup and began eating with great concentration. "So, your
travels," Qui-Gon continued, returning his attention to Crion.
"Are you away on official business a great deal?"
"Sometimes official business. And sometimes pleasure. I'm
alone here, and there isn't much to do, even in a house as
well-appointed as this one."
They ate in silence for several moments, the clink of forks on
plates and scrape of glasses on the table the only sound in the
quiet surrounding them. As the main course was being served,
Qui-Gon brought up the subject he was most interested in. "So,
when are the negotiations scheduled to start?"
"In a week," Crion answered, waving his hand in a dismissive
gesture. "Unless they change their minds again. Four times they
have moved the date."
"They are reluctant to negotiate?"
"They say the agreement is fair, and there is no need, but
they will if they must. Still, they put it off. They are hoping
to change my mind. They will not."
Qui-Gon looked around the room. "You seem to be doing well
enough. Is the contract really that unprofitable?"
"It is not about profit. It is about fairness. The current
contract was negotiated four generations ago. The scientists of
Telos are giving up their vast knowledge for well below what it
is worth, and as Governor, I won't allow it to continue."
Before Qui-Gon could respond, Xanatos stepped in. "Please. We
just spent days cramped in an escape pod, we have a wonderful
meal in front of us, and this is the first time I've seen my
father in years. Couldn't we find something more pleasant to
discuss?"
Crion turned a wide smile on his son. "Certainly. Business
will wait. What would you like to talk about?"
As father and son talked about various things, Qui-Gon ate his
meal in silence, listening for any sign that might tell him
what made him uneasy about this situation. He would have to
figure it out soon, he realized, with a worried look at his
student. Faint stirrings of danger were whispering to him
through the Force, and he had to know if they involved the
negotiations, or something far more personal.
Or both.
Meditation brought Qui-Gon little comfort. After hours on his
knees, he knew his unease centered on the budding relationship
between Xanatos and his father. He'd had time to sift through
the observations he'd made at dinner and paid close attention
to the easy rapport between the two men. The family connection
could account for that, and simple curiosity could be the only
reason Xanatos was so fascinated by the stories of his
ancestors, and even more enamored of stories of his father's
wealth and travels.
So why did these things bother him so much?
For the twelfth time, Qui-Gon checked the windows in his room,
looking for some sign of Xanatos. He wasn't in his
room--Qui-Gon had checked several times. But he was fairly
close, that much Qui-Gon could tell through their bond, he just
didn't know where. And he wasn't about to go searching for his
padawan like a befuddled master or a possessive lover.
The moon was full, lighting the courtyard and the gardens with
a pale white light that gave an eerie quality to the landscape.
There were flowers, trees, and shrubs, and beyond that a grove
of trees, but no sign of his apprentice.
The younger man's actions at evening meal had left Qui-Gon
with a choice. He could say nothing, and wait to see what
developed, or he could attempt to divert Xanatos before he
became too immersed in his father's world. His first instinct
was to rein the young man in. Yoda should never have sent them
on this mission; there was a reason Jedi barely knew their
parents. The fact that Yoda sent them was the only thing to
give him pause. Had this been what his own master had foreseen?
Did the ancient Jedi realize what Xanatos would feel when he
saw his father again? Had he foreseen Xanatos' desire for a
father being more important than his dedication to the
Jedi--and to his Master?
Jealousy surged through Qui-Gon, and he concentrated his
efforts on it for a moment, sitting on the bed, cross-legged,
feeding the emotion out into the Force. He had to make his
decision with a clear mind, focus on what was best for his
padawan. His own feelings could not affect his actions.
Right. And Yoda could have a sudden growth spurt tomorrow. It
was nearly impossible for him to separate his own wants and
desires from Xanatos' needs.
He knew his apprentice wanted him, but did the young man
really need him? Xanatos was an adult, too old to need a father
figure. And it wasn't as if he'd had any trouble finding sex
before now, so, good as it was between the two of them, he
didn't necessarily need his master for that. Crion could fill a
place in Xanatos' life that Qui-Gon himself no longer occupied.
He'd made that decision himself when he'd taken the young man
into his bed--or rather his bath. But what about a father, one
he'd never really known? Could Qui-Gon compete with that kind
of blood tie?
So it was a competition now, was it? Qui-Gon stood and crossed
to the window again, staring out at the moon. He did not need
to compete with Crion. Xanatos needed no father; getting closer
to his blood father would not stand in the way of his link with
Qui-Gon. And yet in making a decision to get closer to his
father, Xanatos would jeopardize so much. His relationship with
Crion could not grow easily if Xanatos were traipsing around
the galaxy doing the work of the Jedi--they would never see
each other. Which would mean....
Qui-Gon closed his mind to that idea. No need to think that
far ahead into improbable situations over the young man's
simple curiosity about his family. Xanatos had worked his whole
life to become a Jedi; he would not risk that on a whim.
The door opened, and the subject of his musing walked in.
"Master! I thought you would be asleep by now."
One eyebrow cocked up. "And were you planning to wake me?"
"Well," the young man said silkily, shedding his cloak as he
crossed to the window, "the thought had crossed my mind."
Xanatos leaned in for a kiss, which Qui-Gon gave before
withdrawing reluctantly. He hated sounding like an inquisitor,
but he felt the need to ask, "Where have you been?"
"With my father. He wanted to show me the stables after
evening meal, and then we came back to his rooms and talked."
Xanatos slipped out of his master's arms and began shedding
clothing on the way to the bathroom. "He told me about my
mother, and about Telos, family history...things I'd never
known."
Qui-Gon followed. "And you were talking with him about family
all this time?"
"Of course." Xanatos' face disappeared behind a tunic as it
was raised over his head and then tossed to the ground. "You
didn't think I was off having my way with someone else, did
you?" He grinned as he took the few steps that brought him
right up to his master, arms reaching out before he was quite
there to draw Qui-Gon into an embrace. Another kiss, this one
more serious. "I have what I want," he murmured, voice husky,
before his lips sought his master's again. "Care to join me in
the shower?"
"I shouldn't."
Xanatos stepped out of his leggings and tossed them across the
bathroom with his foot, leaving Qui-Gon to stare at the expanse
of pale skin, and the half-erect shaft in the center of it all.
"You should," he said, stepping closer.
Qui-Gon backed away, reaching down to pick up his student's
fallen clothing. "You've made a mess."
"Leave it," Xanatos said with a dismissive wave. "The servants
will get it tomorrow."
"You're getting used to that rather quickly."
The young man shrugged, taking the tunic from his master. "If
they're there, might as well make use of them. Otherwise they
could be out of a job. And that would benefit no one."
"Don't get too used to them. We'll be gone soon enough, and
it'll be back to space rations and cleaning up for ourselves."
"But not tonight," Xanatos said softly, tossing the tunic onto
a nearby stool and running his fingers lightly down Qui-Gon's
chest. "Tonight, we have a nice room, a comfortable bed, and a
large shower with real hot water. Why waste it?"
Hands went around his side, as Xanatos stepped closer to run
his hands up his master's back. Their erections touched
briefly, eliciting a gasp from Qui-Gon, who crumbled under the
assault of his own senses. He leaned down to lick his padawan's
lips, tracing the entire mouth with his tongue, which snaked
through the young man's lips into his mouth, finding its mate,
chasing it around briefly before Xanatos stepped back. His
fingers slid along his master's arm; he caught Qui-Gon's hand
and pulled him backwards to the shower stall.
The shower took a moment to warm, but Qui-Gon didn't notice as
he kissed his padawan with increasing passion. He ran his hands
down the young man's back, lingering over the firm mounds below
his hips before his hands traveled back up to twist into the
soft, black hair. He used his hold to guide Xanatos back under
the spray of water.
Qui-Gon ran his fingertips over his student's neck, his hand
catching in the braid that he impatiently tossed aside on his
way to his goal. His fingers stroked down the smooth chest,
stopping to tease the nipples there into hard nubs. Desire
surged through him at the sight of the young man's head tipped
back under the water that ran over his face, plastered his hair
back, emphasizing the fine, delicate bone structure covered in
flawless skin. His face was like a statue, carved to perfection
by a great artist.
Fascinated, Qui-Gon watched the rivulets run off the young
man's cheeks. His tongue snaked out and interrupted the flow of
water; he tasted minerals, and the essence of his lover. He
followed the jaw line up to Xanatos' ear, tracing the outside
before sucking on the lobe. A small bite, and then he kissed
his way across his padawan's cheek down to his mouth. Their
lips fused, blocking out the water, tongues meeting in a long,
slow kiss.
Qui-Gon grappled for skin, trying to pull the young man
closer. Finally, he turned them both around and drove his
student against the wall, pressing Xanatos' body as close as he
could. He reached down between them to find the young man's
erection and stroked the length of it as he rubbed his own
against Xanatos' thigh.
Hands grasped at Qui-Gon's back as Xanatos bucked against the
firm pressure of Qui-Gon's body. Water pounded against his
lower back as he released Xanatos' lips and fastened his mouth
on the joint of neck and shoulder.
As Xanatos' fingertips dug into Qui-Gon's skin, a loud,
hitching breath escaped the padawan's throat. He undulated his
hips, causing his erection to slide hot and hard across his
master's palm. Qui-Gon kissed his way down the younger man's
chest, across his stomach, heedless of the water that poured
into his hair as he knelt and fastened his lips over the head
of his padawan's shaft. He took the tip in and swirled his
tongue around the edges.
Xanatos whimpered when Qui-Gon released him, and again when
Qui-Gon closed his lips around the straining erection once
more. Qui-Gon slid his lips down to the wiry curls at the base
of Xanatos' cock, then back until only the crown was encased in
the wet heat of his mouth. His padawan gripped his head, urging
him forward again, and Qui-Gon complied, taking him in and
pulling back again and again, adding suction to the motion.
Xanatos growled low in his throat, his hands almost painfully
tight in his master's hair now, allowing no movement beyond the
steady back and forth rhythm that was driving the younger man
toward completion. He climaxed with a shout, thrusting deep
into Qui-Gon's mouth and holding him in place until he was
done.
Qui-Gon rose to give Xanatos a luxuriant kiss, so his padawan
could taste his own essence on his master's tongue. Xanatos was
heavy Qui-Gon's arms, sated from his own release, and easily
turned in Qui-Gon's arms. He was pressed face first against the
shower, his legs spread invitingly, water running down his
back, into the crevice between his legs.
Force, but he was beautiful. Qui-Gon followed the path of the
water with his tongue, pulling apart Xanatos' cheeks to lick at
the water trapped there. At his padawan's sharp gasp, he licked
again, and again, the soft moans he could hear above him as
much of a rush as sex itself.
He tightened his grip on Xanatos' hips and slowly pushed his
tongue into the small hole. Xanatos cried out, and his hips
bucked back against Qui-Gon's mouth, pushing the tongue in
further. Need urged Qui-Gon to move faster, so he rose and
reached for the soap to lather his erection. He let himself
revel in the sensation, but only briefly before he entered his
padawan carefully until they were pressed flesh to flesh.
At the entry, Xanatos truly came alive, head turning, neck
straining as he found his master's lips. He took one long kiss
then drew his head away. He braced himself and thrust back,
meeting Qui-Gon's hips with powerful force. Qui-Gon ran his
hands across his padawan's chest, and touched his lips to
Xanatos' shoulder. Exquisite pressure built inside him, filling
his body until he thought he could no longer bear it. He came,
holding Xanatos tight against the wall, release washing through
him like a drug, leaving him a little intoxicated and already
thinking about the next dose.
They stood there, locked together, for several moments, the
only sound their ragged breathing and the patter of the shower
against the wall. Finally Qui-Gon became aware that the water
against his legs was turning cold, and he reluctantly pulled
away from his padawan. He turned to stand under the spray, face
tilted up as he let the liquid cascade down his body, cooling
the last of the heat that was threatening to rise up again. He
felt Xanatos' hands, on him, sliding slickly down his back and
realized the young man was washing him. He leaned back against
his apprentice, giving the young man access to his chest, but
when Xanatos would have ventured further, Qui-Gon stopped him.
"We need sleep," he murmured, turning to face his padawan,
giving him a soft kiss before maneuvering him under the water.
Xanatos stood under the spray, eyes locked with his master's as
Qui-Gon washed him. When he was done, they stepped out of the
shower and dried off, tumbling into the bed soon after.
They moved around a little, adjusting their position until
Xanatos' head lay on his master's chest, and settled down to
sleep. Or so Qui-Gon thought.
"Master, how do we proceed with the negotiations only a week
away?"
Qui-Gon shifted, enjoying the scrape of Xanatos' cheek against
his skin. "We leave for Nardir in the morning, to get a feel
for their side, then come back in a day or two to await the
first meeting."
"Might I...is it possible for me to stay here while you go to
Nardir?"
"Stay here? Why?"
"I could monitor things from this end, get an idea for what
the people of Telos think of this negotiation. And, I must
confess," he looked up, dark eyes turned pure black in the
faint moonlight from the window, "I would like a few days to
get to know my father. I may never have this chance again."
For a long moment, Qui-Gon stared down at his padawan, his
instincts at war. If Xanatos became too attached, he could
decide to forsake his trials and remain on Telos. But the
decision was his to make, not Qui-Gon's. And the desire to put
him on the next transport off the planet was ridiculous. Yoda
wanted Xanatos to make his own choice. So Qui-Gon would have to
let him. "You may stay. Just keep in contact with me, and let
me know anything you find that might be a problem."
"Thank you." Xanatos reached up to kiss him once on the lips,
then snuggled back into his side and quickly fell asleep.
As Qui-Gon lay there in the bed, listening to Xanatos' slow,
even breaths, he remembered sleepily that he had planned to
talk to the young man about his attitude. Ah, well, it could
wait. No use in waking him up for a conversation they could
easily have when Qui-Gon got back from Nardir.
Decision made, he pulled Xanatos closer and fell asleep
breathing in the scent of his padawan.
Qui-Gon left a sleeping Xanatos with a kiss early the next
morning. He wandered the streets of Thani, observing the early
morning crowds as they rushed off to work. According to the
information supplied by the Council, eighty percent of the
population worked in some kind of professional capacity--a
curiously large number for any society. Any necessary manual
labor, such as serving the Governor or waiting on tables, was
limited to service staff and paid considerably well--more than
in many other places he'd visited. Most of the servants he'd
seen so far had been off-worlders.
Why would the people of Telos need more money? The clothes
they wore fit perfectly, and were made of fabrics he knew to be
expensive. Most of them had flawless hair, well-kept bodies and
faces, and the best material possessions available. The
advertisements around the town were for shows and exhibits
generally seen in places such as the more well to do areas of
Coruscant. Even the street cleaners wore tailored uniforms. It
was clear the citizens of Telos were benefiting from the
current contract with Nardir.
He pondered that idea as he hired a small one-man craft to fly
himself to Nardir. A borrowed ship flown by one of the
Governor's pilots was not the best way to enter the planet
opposing Telos--anything he said to the Nardirians would
certainly be reported directly back to Crion. And after the
little bit of Thani society he'd seen today, Qui-Gon wasn't
sure he'd want his comments making their way back to Telos.
It was a relatively short trip from Thani to Sarta, the
capital of Nardir. Qui-Gon docked his ship and made his way
through the streets of the city, noting the differences between
the midday crowds of Sarta and the citizens he'd observed that
morning in Thani. The Nardirians were mostly working class
people who supplied the labor, materials and factories to carry
out the designs and ideas of the Telosians. A profitable
relationship for both worlds, though the contract had been
thought to favor the Telosians, a fact which made Crion's
decision to renegotiate that much more surprising.
Now that he could see with his own eyes just how much the
contract favored Telos, Qui-Gon wondered anew why Crion would
think it needed to be changed. He must be making a fortune
himself with the current situation. And it wasn't very likely
the Governor was planning to call for a contract that was more
fair to the Nardirians.
Qui-Gon looked around at the low buildings lining the main
street. A variety of businesses had signs hanging over the
doors or painted into windows, advertising goods, services, and
more than a few eating establishments. No one was expecting
him, so he had time to wander and eat before seeking out the
official government representatives. He chose a busy little
cafe for his midday meal.
Pleasant smells and loud conversations greeted him as he
walked in. There were booths off to one side, all full, and a
few tables spaced inches apart from one another. A long counter
ran along the window. Qui-Gon took one of the few empty seats
at the counter and listened to the conversations around him
while he waited. Most of them revolved around families and
work; he wondered if he would hear similar discussions in
restaurants in Thani.
A server handed him a menu and hurried on her way to wait on
others. He quickly made a selection and went back to
eavesdropping until she arrived to take his order. While he
waited for his food, the crowd began to thin out as people
returned to work. By the time his food arrived, the restaurant
was half-empty, and the server was moving much slower than
before.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "This is fine, thank you." He looked
around as another group headed for the door. "Does this place
always clear out so fast?"
The server shrugged. "Midday meal is over. They all have to
get back on time so they get all their hours in. Some of them
barely make enough to get by as it is. Don't know what they'll
do if those galactic bullies on the other planet end up taking
even more money."
"Are you referring to the renegotiation of the contract
between Telos and Nardir?"
"You call it renegotiation. I call it legal space pirating.
But then you don't have to see these people come in here day
after day and hear their problems."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "They don't make enough at the
factories?"
"All I know is what I hear," the woman said hesitantly.
"Beyond that, I really couldn't say."
Apparently she had decided she'd said too much. Or maybe she'd
noticed the clothes and realized he was a Jedi. Qui-Gon let her
off the hook as he tasted the food and smiled encouragingly.
"This is very good."
"Thanks, I'll tell the cook. Let me know if you need anything
else," she replied before hurrying off again.
The food was delicious, and Qui-Gon made quick work of it.
After he paid, he wandered a little further down the street,
but there was so little activity he didn't think he would learn
much more out there. He decided to make a quick com call back
to Xanatos before heading to the government complex. There was
a booth on the next corner designed to allow com calls in
relative privacy from the street, so he stepped inside and
pulled out his comlink.
"Yes, Master?" Xanatos answered quickly, his voice husky
across the comm.
"What have you been up to, Padawan?"
"Sleeping, Master. Apparently I was very tired after last
night."
Qui-Gon smiled. "I wonder why."
"You left without waking me," Xanatos pouted.
"You were sleeping so soundly I couldn't bring myself to wake
you. I'll be back soon enough."
"When?"
"I'm not sure. Possibly tonight. I'll let you know after I've
spoken with the local representatives."
"Fine, but if you're not back, I'm going to sleep in your
bed."
At that, Qui-Gon laughed. "What's wrong with yours?"
"It doesn't smell like you."
"And mine does, even after the servants have been in to
clean?"
"Yes."
He laughed again. "Very well, then. If I'm not back, you may
sleep in there."
"Come back anyway."
"We'll see. I must go. Behave yourself until I return."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon put the comlink away, still smiling as he pushed open
the doors to the booth, welcoming the rush of air. The silence
was helpful when talking on a comlink, but the glass booth was
rather warm with the sun beating down on it.
He made his way to the government complex slowly, wandering
through a park, enjoying the sounds of birds, the chatter of
the people taking a day off, and even the occasional hum of a
hovercraft as it sped toward a parking lot. He looked closely
at the area around him. The trees and grass were much more
natural in this park. In Thani, the parks were cultivated,
carefully planned and trimmed to perfection; in Sarta grass
grew seemingly at random, and the trees and bushes in the parks
were round and full. Various and assorted forms of wildlife
dashed around from one hiding place to another, sometimes
stopping long enough to pick up a gift of food from one of the
citizens having a late midday meal in the park.
The government complex was just on the other side of the park.
It was the most impressive building Qui-Gon had seen in the
city, yet it still managed to blend with the natural
surroundings. He could see no intentional design for the
area--everything seemed to be placed in some sort of haphazard
manner, and yet it worked better than the designed city of
Thani. And the Living Force was stronger here than it had been
anywhere he'd visited on Telos.
He walked into the building, surprised at the lack of
security. One lone guard sat at a desk just inside the main
doors. She didn't bother to look up from her reader as Qui-Gon
approached. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to meet with the Governor."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Not a specific one; however, he will see me."
At that she finally looked up, saw his clothes, and realized
he was a Jedi. "Oh, the Governor's offices are down the hall
and to the left," she said, straightening her uniform. "The
suite at the end."
"Thank you," he replied with a brief nod. He found the
offices, hesitating for the briefest of moments to focus on the
task ahead before entering the door.
A petite humanoid woman sat behind the desk, staring intently
at a computer terminal. When the door clicked shut, she looked
up. "Hello. How can I help you?"
"I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I'm here to see Governor
Tashi."
"Oh, of course, Master Jinn. If you'd like to have a seat I'm
sure the Governor will be out very soon." She pushed a button
on a com unit and spoke quietly into a hand-held receiver, then
turned back to Qui-Gon. "Is there anything I can get you while
you wait?"
"No, thank you."
She nodded and went back to work at her terminal, the quiet
click of the keys the only sound for several moments. Finally,
a dark-haired man rushed into the reception from the back of
the suite. "Master Jinn. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm
Governor Tashi."
"I have only been here a short time, and I was not expected.
It's good of you to see me on short notice."
"It is good of you to come." The Governor peered up at
Qui-Gon. "If you'll follow me, we can talk in my office."
Qui-Gon followed the smaller man through a maze of hallways to
a spacious office in the back of the suite. Once inside, the
Governor closed the door and waved a hand at a seat in front of
his desk. "Please, sit."
"Thank you." Qui-Gon took the seat and waited to see how Tashi
would begin.
"So, you're here about the negotiations?" The governor leaned
back in his chair. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me why Telos
wishes to renegotiate the contract?"
The Jedi master shook his head. "I don't know, Governor. I am
only an impartial observer, here to get the Nardirian side of
the negotiation so that I have all the facts to help facilitate
your negotiations."
"Which is the Jedi way of saying, 'I'm not going to tell you
anything I've figured out.' Very well. My people were desperate
when they signed the original contract with Telos. We had a
planet rich in materials, but no way to convert those materials
into goods we needed to survive. They agreed to the stipulation
that only Telos could open renegotiations because they had to."
He spread his hands out, palms up. "From my point of view, this
could be a beneficial event."
"Some of your people seem to think differently."
The Governor sighed. "The people are convinced Telos would
only open negotiations if it were to end up more profitable for
Telos in the end. They are tired of working for years and
having little to show for it, and now they think there will be
even less when this contract is changed."
"But you don't share their views?"
"I am counting on the Jedi to ensure a fair arrangement."
Qui-Gon acknowledged the man's trust with a nod. "Thank you.
But there is only so much we can do. We are merely
facilitators."
"We?"
"My apprentice is back on Telos. He will also be attending the
negotiations." Qui-Gon thought it best not to bring up the real
reasons for Xanatos staying behind. Best not to let these
people know the young man was a Telosian, much less the son of
the governor. "We thought we could work more efficiently
gathering information separately for a day."
"Only a day? But surely you will stay for evening meal. And
you must accept the hospitality of our governor's quarters for
the night. The guest rooms are quite nice, even for a place
that must seem like the back end of nowhere after being on
Telos."
After a moment's hesitation, Qui-Gon nodded his acquiescence.
Duty before personal desires. He had to remember that. It was
only one night.
"I'm coming over there."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Padawan. You will stay where you are--out of
sight of the Nardirians until the negotiations. There's less
chance for them to realize you're Telosian before the meetings
start if you are not seen until then."
"Then come home." The easy way Xanatos referred to Thani as
"home" only served to make Qui-Gon more anxious to get back
there. His apprentice needed reminders of who he was and whose
agenda he served. Perhaps they could go to Dagobah before
returning to Coruscant. Nowhere was the Living Force more
prevalent than his own master's home world, and it offered few
distractions. Qui-Gon would have to talk to Yoda about the side
visit before he and Xanatos left Telos.
"I cannot. The Nardirians would never trust me if I spent less
than a day here and spent a week on Telos. It's suspicious
enough that you are not here with me."
"Then I will come there."
"No. Stay where you are. It's only for one night, Xanatos. One
night, and then I'll be back."
A long silence stretched across the space between them, so
long Qui-Gon wondered if his comlink was malfunctioning. "All
right," Xanatos answered finally. "But I don't like it."
"Nor do I," Qui-Gon agreed. "I must go--there's an official
function I have to attend. I will contact you again later."
"Promise?"
"Promise." With that, he clicked off the com and stuffed it
into one of the pockets of his robe before hurrying off to find
the grand dining room.
After the rich, heavy food at the Governor's quarters, the
Nardirian fare was a welcome change. Qui-Gon savored the tangy
fish, concentrating on the taste to keep himself in the moment,
and his thoughts from straying to his apprentice.
"So, you're the great Jedi come to save Nardir."
Qui-Gon turned to the councilman seated to his left. "Excuse
me?"
The man waved a hand toward the head of the table. "Governor
Tashi has told us all about how the Jedi would ensure the
results of the negotiations would be in our favor."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon studied the man, wondering what kind of game he
was playing. "And how am I to do that, Councilman Yo?"
"By forcing the Telosian government to adhere to the fairness
that all self-respecting governments in the Republic strive
for, thereby causing them to adjust the contract so that Nardir
gets its fair share of the profit from our association," Yo
recited. "Or so Tashi says."
"I'm afraid I am only here as a facilitator, Councilman. I
cannot force anyone to do anything."
Yo snorted. "I suspected as much. Ever since Tashi cast off
his bonded mate and took another into his home, he has touted
this negotiation as his glory day, hoping to distract the
public from his shame with thoughts of money."
"His shame?" The report given to him by the Jedi Council had
mentioned the Governor of Nardir had recently dissolved a bond
and then bonded with another, but no mention had been made of
anything shameful. "There was a scandal?"
"Of course! One does not dissolve a bond. And to do so
publicly, while leading the people...such a thing is unheard of
on this planet. Nardirians mate for life, Jedi--did your
preparation for this negotiation fail to mention that?"
It had, but Qui-Gon refrained from admitting it outright.
"Most species mate for life, but even so a disolvement is not
always such an unusual event."
"Perhaps elsewhere that is true. But here we take our bonds
very seriously. I would never do such a thing to my wife, nor
would any self-respecting Nardirian." Yo looked at Tashi again
and laughed harshly. "The promise of a better contract now that
he requested the Jedi is the only reason Tashi is still in his
office." He studied his plate for a moment before casting a
sidelong glance at Qui-Gon. "There are those who never believed
him in the first place. His failure with these negotiations
could be cause enough to remove him. By force, if necessary."
Qui-Gon acknowledged that statement with a brief nod before
turning to the dessert that had just been placed in front of
him. So the outcome of these negotiations could be the catalyst
for a civil war on Nardir. Wonderful.
Certainly no pressure for everything to go perfectly.
After a fitful night's sleep and meetings with several
government members the following morning, Qui-Gon found himself
in his rented ship on his way back to Telos. As he walked back
to the Governor's quarters, he was struck again by the perfect
falseness of his surroundings. The contrast to Nardir was even
more obvious after being surrounded by the natural beauty on
Sarta.
A young man sitting at the bottom of the steps to the
Governor's quarters reminded Qui-Gon of Xanatos and the
resemblance speeded his step. As Qui-Gon drew closer, the young
man looked up, saw him and stood. With a start, Qui-Gon
realized it was Xanatos, dressed in a deep blue jacket
and pants. White cuffs and a small white collar peeked out from
the edges of the dark material, a color of blue that nearly
matched the eyes that lit up as Qui-Gon stopped in front of
him.
"Master!" Xanatos moved as if to embrace Qui-Gon, then stopped
suddenly and bowed instead. "It is good to have you back."
"It is good to see you as well, Padawan." They turned as one,
climbing the steps toward the main doors. "Though it has only
been one day since I left."
Xanatos reached out, his fingers grazing his master's arm as
he straightened his own sleeve. "A very long day."
"Yes, it was at that."
"So what was the situation on Nardir?"
"How do you mean?" Qui-Gon answered question with question,
mindful of the openness of the hallway and who could be
listening.
Xanatos clasped his hands behind his back. "Will the
Nardirians be difficult during the negotiations?"
"I'm not sure what you mean by 'difficult,' Padawan. I imagine
they will simply be looking out for their own interests, as
will the Telosians."
"Ah, so we should plan for a nice, long stay while they argue,
then?"
"We shall see." Qui-Gon responded as they reached his room.
Xanatos followed him through the door and closed it behind
them, waiting until the older man had put his bag down before
spinning him around and trapping him against the bed. "I missed
you, Master."
"And I you," Qui-Gon answered, allowing his student to lean in
for one kiss before he turned toward the bed, pushing Xanatos
back with his body. He felt the flash of anger and hurt shoot
through his padawan.
"Is there a problem, Master?" Xanatos asked, his tone formal
as he stepped back a few paces.
Qui-Gon finished unpacking the items in his travel bag and
placing them on the bed beside it, each movement deliberate as
he chose his words carefully. "You are out of uniform," he
answered finally, turning to face his apprentice.
"My father bought these for me. We aren't on duty, so I
thought--"
"We are on duty," Qui-Gon interrupted. "We're on a mission,
and you are here to represent the Jedi, not the Governor of
Telos. If you don't want to wear the Jedi uniform, you can
always go home." Not that he really had any intention of
sending Xanatos home, but the need to wear the Jedi uniform, to
show their objectivity, should have been obvious to his
apprentice.
Xanatos' eyes blazed with anger. "Home? This is my
home!" The young man took a deep breath. "Or at least it was
once."
Fear swelled inside Qui-Gon, the worries about Xanatos and his
father returning in a rush. "You are too close to this
situation," he said, voice tightly controlled. "Perhaps it
would be best if you went back to Coruscant after all."
"Master, no!" Xanatos took the few steps forward that left him
practically touching his master. "I wore the clothes because I
thought they would please you. I'll be happy to change back
into my robes." He reached out one hand, cupping Qui-Gon's
cheek. "Just please don't send me away from you."
Qui-Gon searched the deep blue eyes, no longer certain when
his apprentice was being completely honest--or entirely
trusting of his own judgment in the matter. He found no signs
of deception lurking in Xanatos' gaze.
Finally, Xanatos broke the silence. "You would send me away
from you, separate us, over clothing?" The pleading in his
voice was now combined with a fair amount of anger. "You would
deprive us both of this?" He leaned in, licking at his master's
lips for a moment before parting his mouth and delving inside,
molding his lips to Qui-Gon's in a fierce kiss.
Qui-Gon shoved his travel bag and clothing out of the way,
scrambling back onto the bed and dragging his padawan with him.
Xanatos straddled his master's lap, his rear pressed against
Qui-Gon's groin, and rocked slightly, drawing a growl from the
older man, who grabbed his arms and pulled him down for another
kiss.
Several moments later, Xanatos pulled back to remove his
jacket and shirt. "I can stay, then?" he asked as he began
removing Qui-Gon's tunics.
"You can stay," Qui-Gon agreed. "But I want you in Jedi robes
from now on."
"Really, Master?" Xanatos replied with a grin. "I thought you
wanted me wearing nothing right now."
The Jedi Master's eyes narrowed. "Xanatos...."
"Yes, Master," the young man answered dutifully, leaning down
to tease one of Qui-Gon's nipples with his tongue. "Jedi robes.
Understood." He bit down lightly, causing Qui-Gon to arch up
and put more pressure on his suddenly hard shaft.
Qui-Gon rolled, turning Xanatos onto his back and pinning the
young man beneath him. Maybe he should just keep him trapped
like this until the negotiations. At least then he couldn't get
into trouble. And no one needed to worry about what kind of
clothes he was wearing.
Xanatos went to work on Qui-Gon's leggings, thoughts of
clothing quickly forgotten as they stripped theirs away and put
the outside world aside, lost in each other.
For the next few days, Qui-Gon kept a close eye on his
padawan. Xanatos was on his best behavior--the model of a
perfect padawan. Which only worried his master more.
At his best, Xanatos was never the perfect padawan. The
perfect student as far as grades and learning, perhaps, but he
was always a little too independent, a bit too amused by his
own faade. Now...nothing. He acted the same, but the sense of
amusement was gone. In public, he was almost detached. And in
private he was more intense than ever. Qui-Gon had bruises that
matched his padawan's fingers in several places from times in
the past few days when the young man had held on to him as if
he never intended to let go.
Teaching a padawan was not supposed to involve breaking his
spirit, no matter what some of the masters at the Temple
thought. It worried the Jedi Master that he might have broken
his apprentice completely in the act of trying to keep him.
He looked back over his shoulder once more. Xanatos stood just
behind him, face serene, dark blue eyes cool, surveying the
hangar with detachment.
Qui-Gon checked the lists of arrivals. Still several minutes
before the Nardirian contingent was due to arrive--enough time
for a lesson. Perhaps it was time to shake his padawan up a
bit. He concentrated on the previous night, building up a wave
of lust inside himself, and then sent the emotion through their
bond in a rush.
Xanatos' eyes widened, and his lips parted, tongue darting out
to moisten them briefly. He threw a frustrated glance at his
master before averting his eyes and exerting control over his
feelings. A moment more, and he was the perfect padawan
again--almost. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his
lips, one that just barely reached his eyes.
With a smile of his own, Qui-Gon faced front to watch the
Nardirian shuttle land. The situation was looking better
already.
"It was a good start, wasn't it, Master?"
Qui-Gon paused in the middle of shedding his tunics. "What
was?"
"Evening meal. My father and the Nardirians were getting along
nicely. That bodes well for the negotiations, does it not?"
"Perhaps. We shall see how they get along when there is a
contract on the table." Tunics and boots dealt with, Qui-Gon
turned to Xanatos, who was sitting on the bed, still fully
clothed. "You are wearing entirely too much clothing, my
padawan."
The young man blinked out of his reverie and smiled up at his
master. "Say that again."
"What?"
"'My padawan.'" He reached up and caressed Qui-Gon's cheek. "I
love the way your voice sounds when you say that here, with no
one else around."
Qui-Gon sat next to him and leaned in, mouth close to Xanatos'
ear. "My padawan," he said softly. He delighted in the shiver
that raced through the young man's body. "My padawan," he
growled again, tongue reaching out to trace the shell of his
apprentice's ear. When he reached the lobe, he stopped to
nibble at it while hastily removing the layered tunics Xanatos
wore.
"My master," the young man breathed as he pulled at his boots
until they came off. Their lips met as each man fumbled with
the other's leggings, tugging and shoving until they were both
naked. Qui-Gon fell back onto the bed, legs still dangling over
the side, pulling Xanatos along without breaking the kiss.
Xanatos' tongue dipped into his master's mouth, mapping the
textures there before withdrawing slowly to wander down
Qui-Gon's chin, along the strong column of his neck, nipping at
the muscle that strained as Qui-Gon arched up against him.
Xanatos circled one brown nipple slowly before sucking on the
tip until it was hard. Qui-Gon writhed in pleasure beneath him
as the second nipple was given the same treatment. Sparing a
second for a grin up at his master, Xanatos continued his trip
down his master's stomach, across his navel, lowering himself
to his knees on the floor to make his way through the patch of
dark curls below.
Without warning he took the length of the older man's shaft
completely in his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the pressure of
the suction he employed. Qui-Gon arched up violently, as he
grabbed his padawan's head and held it in place as he thrust
into Xanatos' mouth, lost in intense pleasure.
He came quickly, pumping his hips into the talented mouth
until he could no longer move. Qui-Gon lay there, gasping for
breath, his relaxed legs offering no resistance as Xanatos
pulled them onto his shoulders and slipped a finger inside him,
stretching the muscle in preparation for his entry.
There was a grin on his padawan's face as he watched his
master writhing and bucking beneath him. Qui-Gon fought off the
haze of passion enough to ask, "Something amuses you?"
"Only that it is somewhat of a novelty to do this in a bed, my
Master." He looked down at his feet on the floor and added, "Or
at least mostly in a bed."
Qui-Gon smiled. "We shall have to try it again sometime."
"Yes. But for now...." Xanatos entered him in one quick
thrust, hitting a spot that sent lightening-quick pleasure
arcing through him, and he lost himself again to the feelings
churning inside.
The moment Qui-Gon woke the next morning, he realized
something was wrong. A quick check assured him that all inside
the room was well. The door was closed, his lightsaber was on
the table next to him, and his padawan was asleep in his arms.
So what was the problem?
Then he heard the raised voices in the hallway. He sat up,
rousing Xanatos as he moved away to concentrate on the voices.
He knew the loudest one--Crion's voice was unmistakable. The
others were not familiar enough that he could make them out
from here, but they were coming from the direction of the
Nardirians' rooms.
"Master?" Xanatos asked, voice husky with the remnants of
sleep. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure." Qui-Gon climbed out of bed and pulled on his
leggings and boots and reached for his robe, pulling it closed
tightly to hide his bare chest. "But we'd better go check it
out."
Xanatos followed his master's example and threw on his
leggings and boots. He was still pulling on his robe as Qui-Gon
opened the door. The Nardirians were only a few doors down from
the rooms the Jedi had been given, easily visible as soon as
Qui-Gon walked out of the room. Crion was standing with the
three representatives from Nardir and a half-dressed woman that
Qui-Gon recognized as one of the servers from the dining room.
All of them fell silent as the Jedi approached, except for the
woman, who was sobbing quietly into the blanket she held around
her shoulders. "What happened?" Qui-Gon asked.
Councilman Yo stared at the ground. The other two Nardirians
glanced at each other before Councilman Trar, the senior of the
two, answered, "It is a matter for Nardirian justice, Master
Jinn. Nothing you need to concern yourself over; however, I
fear we are going to have to postpone the negotiations a few
more days."
"Postpone again?" Crion bellowed. "These negotiations have
been postponed three times already. The contract ends in one
week--if there is no agreement, Telos will find its materials
elsewhere."
The fact that it was a rather empty threat apparently made no
difference to Yo. "I doubt that Telos will be able to find a
contract that benefits them as greatly as this one does
already!"
"That is not the point. The negotiations must go on as
planned. You cannot postpone them just because one of your
representatives slept with someone!"
"If I may interrupt," Qui-Gon interjected quickly, using the
Force behind his voice to ensure their silence. "We were
brought here to facilitate a smooth negotiation. If someone
would explain what happened it is possible we could salvage
something out of this predicament."
Crion sighed as he turned to face the Jedi Master. "When
Councilman Yo did not show up for an early meeting with his
colleagues, they came to check on him and found him in bed with
Merlena. That is all that happened."
Qui-Gon turned to Yo, who was still staring at the ground.
"Councilman Yo, what happened?"
"I do not know. The young lady knocked on my door to give me a
drink and turn down the bed, as she did for my fellow
councilmen. I remember nothing beyond that until they woke me
this morning and she was there...." He shook his head, unable
or unwilling to say more.
"Now they want to go home because of what he did," Crion
complained. "He did it on purpose, I swear it!"
Qui-Gon studied the accused councilman. He sensed the
Nardirian's confusion. And his shame. If he had indeed slept
with the woman, it hadn't been with an ulterior motive. "Surely
you do not all need to go back to Nardir for this? Could
Councilman Yo return to your planet while the rest of you
remain to work on the negotiations?"
"We have been witnesses to a serious offense, Master Jinn; we
must go back and give testimony. To sleep with a woman out of
wedlock is bad enough; to sleep with one when already bonded is
a crime." Trar moved to Yo's side. "Gather your belongings. We
leave for Nardir at once."
After he watched Yo go into his room, Qui-Gon turned back to
Trar. "What will happen to him?"
"He will return to Nardir to stand trial. If he is found
guilty, he will be sentenced accordingly. And as witnesses, it
is the duty of Natni and myself to return with him. Suitable
replacements will be sent for the negotiations in a few days,
when they have had time to fully prepare."
"Days? This is ridiculous." Crion turned to the Jedi.
"Qui-Gon, tell them to stay."
"I have no authority over them, Governor. If they feel they
must return, I cannot stop them."
For a moment, Crion looked as if he would argue, but he
relented. "Fine. Go if you must."
Trar cleared his throat. "There is one other thing. We would
like to take the girl with us. She has committed an offense--"
"No!" Crion answered quickly. "She is a Telosian citizen under
my employ. If there is to be any kind of punishment, I will
deal with it. But you will not take her. It is out of the
question!"
"Very well," Trar answered reluctantly as Yo returned with his
bag. "We will leave at once, and be in touch about our
replacements."
They watched the Nardirians leave in silence. When they were
completely out of sight, Crion turned to the shaking woman.
"There will be no punishment. You will be demoted, however. You
knew how important these negotiations were to our people, and
yet your sense of duty failed you."
The woman stared at the floor, her voice barely above a
whisper as she responded, "I am sorry, Governor."
"I know. Go on now. You'll report to the kitchens later this
morning."
"Thank you sir." She bowed quickly and ran off toward the
servants' quarters.
As Crion watched the woman go, Qui-Gon sensed an air of
satisfaction about the man that was at odds with his proclaimed
upset at the postponement of the negotiations. Before he could
think on it further, Crion turned back to face him, taking in
his appearance. Then he turned to his son, who had been
standing silently beside Qui-Gon all along, and noticed his
state of undress under his robes. His eyes flickered to the
open doorway of the one room they'd both emerged from.
Qui-Gon's room.
Qui-Gon watched with apprehension as understanding dawned on
Crion's face. He fixed the Jedi Master with a furious stare
then stalked off without a word, leaving Qui-Gon to wonder just
what the man would do with the information. If he called the
Council and asked for new negotiators because of his newfound
knowledge, it could be the end of Xanatos' chance to be a
Knight. Which would leave the young man here, on Telos, where
Qui-Gon had no doubt Crion wanted him.
"Master?" Xanatos placed a hand on Qui-Gon's arm, pulling him
toward the room. "We should finish getting dressed."
"Of course." They returned to the room in silence. As they
were dressing, Qui-Gon decided to bring it out into the open.
"He knows."
Xanatos didn't even pretend not to know what he meant. "Leave
him to me. I can handle him."
"What do you mean, 'handle'?"
"He wants me to be happy. When he realizes that you and the
Jedi are what make me happy, he will not stand in the way. You
have nothing to fear from him."
Qui-Gon let it go at that for the time being. Any action would
only serve to make them look guilty. But he resolved to be very
careful. And very watchful.
For the rest of the day, Qui-Gon again kept a close eye on his
padawan. He watched as Xanatos teased his father out of his bad
mood at breakfast. He watched the young man joke with a few of
the servants, listened as they called him "Young Master
Xanatos" and he didn't correct them. Technically the title was
still his due as the son of the Governor, but Xanatos' easy
acceptance of it was troubling.
They sparred that afternoon. Xanatos gave it his full effort,
drawing on the Force as easily as he breathed and making it
difficult for his master to beat him, but Qui-Gon sensed it was
more about winning the game than it was about using the Force
for defense. There was a fierceness in Xanatos' fighting and an
enjoyment in every little victory that was not appropriate for
a Jedi.
As they finished sparring, one of the servants came in and
informed them that Crion was about to deliver a message to the
Telosian people in the holo room, if they cared to watch.
Qui-Gon glanced questioningly at Xanatos.
"He said nothing to me this morning about an announcement,"
Xanatos said with a shrug.
Qui-Gon nodded to the servant, who led them both to a large
office, with a desk and various adornments that seemed to serve
only to make the person who sat there look important. Several
holo recorders sat at the other end of the office, trained on
the desk.
Crion joined them, giving Qui-Gon a cool look. "Master Jinn,
it is good of you to be here. I am about to let my people know
why the negotiations have stalled. They are anxiously awaiting
the outcome of the negotiations, and I fear if I do not tell
them something they will grow quite angry."
"Then perhaps you should tell them something that will ease
their worries," Qui-Gon agreed.
"Yes. Please, have a seat." He gestured toward a row of chairs
to one side, out of view of the holo recorders, but near the
desk. "We begin in just a moment."
The two Jedi sat as Crion situated himself behind the desk,
checking his appearance in a mirror and going over his notes
one last time before he clicked a button on his desk. Bright
lights flicked on from the camera area, and after a moment to
adjust to the glare, the Governor hit another switch, and the
holo recorders began to whir.
"My fellow Telosians, I bring you news that may be unsettling.
The negotiations have again been stalled. The representatives
sent by the government of Nardir encountered a problem this
morning that forced them to return home. They promise to
contact us in a few days with the names of replacement
negotiators."
He paused for effect, schooling his features in a stern
manner. "I assure you, the negotiations will go on in a few
days. There is nothing to be concerned about. We will have the
contract we deserve. Thank you."
The switches were turned off, and the room was once more
silent and relatively dark after the harsh glare of the lights.
"This will hopefully keep the people from any acts of
aggression toward Nardirians who are on planet," Crion said as
he made his way to the chairs.
"That was broadcast into every home?"
"Yes, and into the areas with public screens. The news
programs will replay it as well." He frowned at Qui-Gon as if
daring him to question anything. "My people are very well
informed."
"I can imagine," Qui-Gon said dryly.
Crion turned toward the door. "It is time for the evening
meal. Let us adjourn to the dining hall."
Xanatos followed immediately, leaving Qui-Gon to trail behind.
This promised to be one of the most uncomfortable meals he'd
ever been through--he was certainly in no hurry to get to it.
The evening meal was followed by a musical concert. Normally
Qui-Gon loved music, but he found he could not concentrate. His
mind was preoccupied with all that had happened. There was
still something off about the Nardirian scandal from that
morning.
He found it hard to believe that the man who so honestly
scorned Governor Tashi for treating his bond so casually would
suddenly find a serving girl so irresistible that he was
willing to go against his own code, as well as his country's
law. Perhaps the woman herself would have a few answers. He
would have to track her down and see if she could be of some
help. One way or another, he was determined to get to the heart
of what had happened.
Xanatos leaned over to whisper, "Is something wrong, Master?
Would you prefer to leave?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm fine," he whispered back. "Let's
stay and listen."
His apprentice said no more, but Qui-Gon noticed Xanatos was
now watching him as much as Qui-Gon had been watching the young
man all day. The Jedi Master released his anxiety into the
Force and willed himself into a state of calm. After a few
minutes, Xanatos relaxed and turned his attention back to the
music, leaving Qui-Gon no choice but to do the same.
"Padawan...are you happy being a Jedi?"
Xanatos looked up from the chair, the boot he had just pulled
off his foot dangling from his hand in mid-air. "Of course,
Master. Why wouldn't I be?"
Qui-Gon sat down on the bed, the doubts he'd had during the
day first in his mind. "I've watched you today, and you seem so
much happier here than you have been in recent months. It made
me wonder if you were questioning your decision to be a Jedi."
"I never decided to be a Jedi; I have simply always been one.
It is who I am," he replied, removing the other boot and
joining his master on the bed. "If I am happier here, then it
is because of you. Our new relationship gives me a peace that I
have never known before."
"You're sure that is all it is?"
Xanatos smiled. "Shall I convince you?" he asked as he leaned
in to kiss his master deeply. Qui-Gon gave in and let himself
be distracted, but as he lay there in the dark, long after
Xanatos had fallen asleep, he realized that he may have been
seduced, but he was still not convinced.
It was a long time before he managed to find sleep.
All through the morning meal, Qui-Gon listened to the easy
conversation between Crion and Xanatos without really hearing
the words. The tone was enough, and if it hadn't been, the
similarities in the voices, combined with the thickening of
Xanatos' accent would have been telling all on their own.
The young man fit in without an effort here. He was accepted,
admired, waited on. It would be so easy for him to give up
everything he'd worked for and stay.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yes, Padawan?"
"Father was asking if I would like to see my mother's
hometown, as it's not far from here. We'd only be gone a couple
of hours. May I go?"
"Certainly. I'll see you both at the midday meal then?"
"Yes, of course. Thank you." Xanatos stood as his father did,
bowed to his master, and they left.
Qui-Gon stared down at the mostly uneaten food on his plate.
He was being foolish. He could do nothing to alter Xanatos'
path. It was his padawan's choice, and Qui-Gon could not choose
for him. If he decided to leave the Jedi, then so be it.
Best to focus on something he could affect. That thought in
mind, he left the table in search of the kitchens, and the
servant he thought might know more than she was telling.
A few questions in the kitchen had him more concerned about
the incident. Merlena had never been assigned there. One of the
other kitchen workers said she'd been assigned to a kitchen at
one of the offices in the middle of the city.
More curious than ever, Qui-Gon strolled the streets, careful
to appear as though he was any other visitor to the city. He
was convinced Crion was behind the incident, and if he was
right, the Governor would likely have him followed.
He quickly identified his two watchers and lost them before
making his way to the office building where Merlena was
supposed to be working. It was easy enough to get into the
kitchen; he'd made a habit of using kitchens as his entry to
buildings. They were busy and generally had numerous entrances,
which made slipping in unnoticed a simple feat.
Once inside, he quickly located the woman was standing over an
oven, her face flushed. She looked less than happy. He stepped
up to her, looking around for anyone who might be paying too
much attention to them. When he found no one, he called out her
name.
She turned, startled, then bowed. "Master Jinn! I did not
expect to see you again. What brings you to this place?"
"I was looking for you. After what happened yesterday, I was
concerned. Are you all right?"
She held out her hands, palms up, glanced down at her
sweat-dampened dress, and lifted her limp hair. "Do I look all
right?"
"Then you are not happy here?"
Merlena laughed. "Only a fool would be happy here. No, I am
not happy, sir, and I have my own stupidity to thank for it. I
should have known better."
"So you did know what your actions would do to the
negotiations if you were caught?"
"Of course. But he put me up to it. Came to my room
that afternoon and told me it was my duty to Telos, and that
there'd be a big, fat promotion in it if I just went in there
and played my part. And then when it was over, the Governor
banished me to this place."
"The Governor talked you into framing the Councilman?"
She laughed again, the sound more harsh this time. "The
Governor, be seen talking to a servant in her room? Ha! No,
sir, it was his son that came to me about it."
"His son?" Qui-Gon barely managed to force the words out.
"Xanatos?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, then held up her arm,
pointing at four fading bruises. "Shook me so hard he left
these as a reminder to keep my mouth shut. And I would have, if
he'd done as he'd promised."
"You're sure it was Xanatos?"
"No one in that household could mistake anyone else for that
one. His arrival was heralded as some kind of miracle. The
entire staff was ordered to treat him like royalty."
She'd lied the morning before. Was she lying now? The idea
that Xanatos....
"Who knows about this?"
"Nobody. I haven't been allowed to talk to any of my friends,
and I don't trust the people around here not to turn me in. But
you, you might be able to help me. The Jedi are known for
helping people, that no-good son of the Governor aside, and I
don't want to spend the rest of my life working in this place."
He ignored her comment about Xanatos for the moment. He had to
think, to see if he even believed it could be possible. "I'll
see what I can do. Thank you for telling me."
"I'll testify, if you want--if you can get me off the planet
after."
"I don't think it will come to that." He wasn't anxious for
her accusations to become public, true or not. "Thank you
again."
Qui-Gon slipped out of the kitchen as easily as he'd slipped
in. He wandered the streets, ending up on a bench in one of the
perfectly planned parks Thani was known for. He'd known Xanatos
was getting along with his father, but could Crion really have
talked him into doing this?
How badly would Xanatos have to want his father's approval, to
be driven to cooperating in such a nasty scheme? It would mean
he'd gone against the code, against his training, lied to his
master....
It couldn't be true. The woman was lying; it was that simple.
He would go back to the Governor's quarters, tell his padawan
about it, and they would uncover the real truth together.
Xanatos would open his eyes and see his father for what he
really was--a greedy, power-hungry manipulator. And then they
could turn this mission over to someone else and leave.
His mind made up, Qui-Gon rose and headed for the Governor's
quarters.
Qui-Gon checked his room first, but Xanatos wasn't there. He
wandered through the maze of hallways toward the exercise room,
when he passed by the door to Crion's study. The door was
slightly open, and he could hear Crion speaking. Perhaps the
governor knew where Xanatos was.
He reached the door and raised his hand to knock, but the next
words he heard stopped him. "We'll have to bide our time until
the army arrives." That was definitely Crion. But who was he
talking to? Qui-Gon pulled out his comlink and flicked the
setting to record. It was usually used for notes on a report,
but it would work for this as well. "It'll be a close call, but
I think we can manage."
"When does the army arrive?" Xanatos. Qui-Gon nearly dropped
the comlink. So it was true. The logical part of his mind
accepted the fact, even as the rest of him rejected it. It made
sense--he was taken by his father and his father's power, and
he'd been led astray. There was still hope for him.
With a strength he hadn't known he possessed, Qui-Gon shoved
his emotional reactions to the revelation aside and paid
attention to the conversation again.
"That was the soonest they could be here," Crion said.
"You should have hired someone closer."
Something was slammed down on wood. "Perhaps you would have
liked to handle that little arrangement as well? You handled
everything else so nicely. With the exception of your
'master'."
"What?"
"Jinn is suspicious."
"He knows nothing. Just leave that to me. Now, do you think
your announcement will make the people angry enough for war?"
Qui-Gon stifled a sigh that was more of a half-sob. His
padawan was in there, calmly discussing a war he was in the
middle of instigating. This couldn't be real. He would have
known before now if it were really happening. It had to be a
dream.
"...announcement on camera. Once I do that, the people will be
straining to go to war. Telos will have the science, the
resources, and the factories, and the people will be rich. The
fools will love me for it, and they'll never realize how much
wealth I gain from it."
"We gain, Father. We."
"Of course. Assuming your master doesn't mess this up."
"I told you to leave him to me. I can handle him. I've handled
him so far, haven't I?"
Handled? Now Qui-Gon was past upset and he could feel the
anger building up inside. He struggled to keep his mind clear
of the muddying power of the anger as he listened to Crion
respond. "You never mentioned that 'handling' him involved
sleeping with him."
At least that hadn't been part of the plan. Or not a part
ordered by Crion at any rate. Satisfaction coursed through him
at the hurt he could hear in the Governor's voice. The man was
upset that his son had been sleeping with his master. Good.
"Whatever it takes," Xanatos answered coldly. "Speaking of
which, I should go find him."
Footsteps grew louder as Xanatos headed toward the door.
Qui-Gon turned off the recorder on the comlink and ducked into
the nearest room, waiting until the footsteps faded away down
the hall before he ventured out.
So, Xanatos was in league with his father. Qui-Gon could try
to deny it all he liked, he could reason, rationalize, make
excuses, but in the end, the result was the same. The young man
had given into the lure of power and money. It might not be
possible to save him.
But he had to try.
He would play along, pretend like nothing happened, and then
tomorrow, during the broadcast, he would strike. Qui-Gon
glanced down at the comlink, still in his hand, and put it away
carefully. The words it contained would ensure that Crion
damned himself in front of his own people tomorrow. Until then,
all he could do was wait. And shut himself off from emotion.
The slightest hint that he knew what was going on and there was
no telling what would happen.
It was going to be a long day.
With the use of Force-enhanced speed, Qui-Gon just managed to
beat Xanatos to the bedroom. He hurried into the bathroom, only
to came right back out as his apprentice entered. "Good
afternoon, Padawan." The normal, even tones of his own voice
surprised him.
"Good afternoon, Master," Xanatos replied with a bow. "Did you
enjoy your walk?"
"It was certainly interesting." He met his padawan in the
center of the room, leaning down for a kiss. "How was your trip
with your father?"
"It was wonderful! I feel like I have more of a sense of my
history now. I've always had the tradition of the Jedi to
ground me, but adding this to it is almost like having a whole
new life."
Or exactly like it. Qui-Gon wondered if they'd really even
gone to his mother's birthplace. More likely they'd gone off
somewhere to plan their war. Anger and betrayal threatened to
overtake his sense of duty, but he ruthlessly squashed them.
Time enough later to feel the pain, plenty of time when he was
either helping Xanatos break away from the dark, or....
No. He wouldn't consider the alternatives. For now, he had to
act his part. And if he'd learned anything as a Jedi, it was
how to act. The skill had come in handy often on missions. If
he pulled this one off, he should get an award.
"Master?" Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no. I was just thinking about midday meal. I haven't
eaten today." Nor did he want to, but he had to keep up
appearances.
"Neither have I. Shall we see if we can raid the kitchen?"
Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Excellent idea."
They ate together at a table in the kitchen, discussing the
differences between Telos and some of the other planets they'd
been to. Qui-Gon could almost believe the conversation he'd
heard earlier was a sick dream, and that this was any other
mission. Xanatos acted as if nothing had changed. Of course, to
him, nothing had changed. To him, Qui-Gon was still a fool,
following along wherever his apprentice chose to lead him.
Once again, he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He
couldn't afford the distraction and pain they would cause.
Xanatos would sense his emotions, and it was imperative that
Xanatos not realize his master knew his plans. Or at least part
of them.
"Do you know if Crion has heard from Nardir?"
"He has not, and it worries him," Xanatos answered. "He thinks
they are stalling in hopes that he will call the negotiations
off." A hard note entered his voice as he added, "If they are,
they'll be disappointed."
"Padawan..." Qui-Gon reprimanded. The young man's feelings
came as no surprise, but the fact that he'd allowed them to
show indicated just how confident he was he'd fooled his
master. However, under normal circumstances, he would chastise
his apprentice for such a comment, so he had to say something.
The young man frowned. "I am simply commenting on my father's
actions, Master."
"It is not the words I have a problem with, but the tone. We
are supposed to be neutral parties here."
"He's my father. Do you really think the Nardirians will
believe I'm completely neutral if they find out?"
With a sigh, Qui-Gon rose from the table. "If they find out
you are his son, we will deal with it. I'm sure Master Yoda
thought about that before he sent us here." Privately, he
wondered if his master had thought any of this out. If he'd
known what was going to happen, why hadn't he at least said
something?
Again he pushed the questions aside. If his plan failed--not
that he had any intention of letting that happen--then this
would be the last day he would spend with his padawan. That
thought was quickly buried. If all went as he intended, then he
would need a strong relationship with Xanatos to get through to
him and help him back to the right path.
With that in mind, he resolved to spend the rest of the
afternoon with his padawan. It would be a solid memory for the
two of them to build on afterwards.
And he could keep an eye on the young man.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook his head faintly. He needed a switch to turn off
his emotions. "I was just thinking about what we should do for
the rest of the day."
"Well, I was hoping to show you something later, but not until
after evening meal."
Suspicion reared its ugly head, but this time he distanced
himself from his emotions enough to keep from feeling anything
his apprentice would notice. He examined the possibilities. It
was doubtful Xanatos would give him advance notice if he were
planning to spring some sort of trap. Whatever plan the young
man had for the evening was probably relatively harmless.
Not that he intended to let his guard down for a moment.
"Perhaps we should spar a while then?" Qui-Gon suggested.
Xanatos relied a great deal on his connection through the Force
to his master when they sparred, using it when possible to gain
advantages by reading Qui-Gon's moves ahead of time. The
connection that method required between them often made his
apprentice easier to read; perhaps he could learn more about
Xanatos' plans.
"I like that idea." A smile lit up Xanatos' face. Qui-Gon
noticed how quickly his apprentice could smile when the
sentiment didn't reach his eyes. Only the smiles that emerged
slowly seemed to be genuine.
Assuming, of course, that any smile Xanatos gave him was real.
Qui-Gon began gathering up his empty plates and cups, raising
an eyebrow at Xanatos when he did not follow suit. The young
man sighed, but picked up his mess and took it to the sink
before following his master out of the kitchen.
They went back to Qui-Gon's room and changed before heading to
the exercise room. The spacious room held only a few pieces of
equipment that were easily moved aside to leave them plenty of
space to maneuver.
After defeating Xanatos twice, Qui-Gon realized he was not
going to learn anything more from his apprentice's mind. When
had the young man's shields become so strong? How much had he
been hiding from his master--and for how long?
Fine, so he couldn't learn anything about the plans. He could
still learn, however, and prepare himself for possibilities he
wouldn't have even considered just a day earlier. He had to
prepare himself for any eventuality. So he studied Xanatos'
fighting style, looking for weaknesses, and further distanced
himself from the pain such precautions would have caused if
he'd allowed himself to feel it.
Two more matches, one of the victories nearly going to Xanatos
as Qui-Gon intentionally gave the young man openings. It
allowed him to see how his apprentice would react to various
approaches, and at the same time it gave the young man more
confidence, a false sense of security that could work to
Qui-Gon's advantage if, Force forbid, he had to face his
padawan in a real fight.
"Enough," Qui-Gon panted as he helped his apprentice up from
his narrow defeat.
"Afraid I will defeat you if we spar again?" The teasing
comment held a note of pride.
"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate--"
"--hate leads to suffering. I know, Master. Still, I've found
that sometimes a little fear is a good thing; it makes you
careful. Under the right circumstances, it can keep you alive."
Qui-Gon reached for a towel and wiped his face. "Perhaps."
Another piece of insight to file away for the future. "There is
such a thing as being too careful, however. Sometimes you have
to take a few risks to achieve your objectives."
"You can't achieve anything if you're dead."
"There is no death, there is only the Force." It was a debate
they'd had more than once since Xanatos had stopped deferring
to everything his master said and begun expressing his own
point of view. Given his new view of his apprentice, however,
the argument took on new layers of meaning. "Your thoughts on
the subject have some merit. On the other hand, sometimes death
is the only way to achieve your goal. What then?"
"Then I'd say it depends on whose death achieves the goal."
The comment was callous, something a master should definitely
take his apprentice to task for, but Qui-Gon didn't
particularly care to do so. Still, appearances must be kept. "I
think we both need time to meditate," he said sharply. "You
should think about your feelings on that subject, and how they
fit into the Jedi code."
"Yes, Master." A stiff bow followed the reluctant response.
"Shall we meditate here?"
"Have you a better place in mind?"
"The gardens. I don't believe you've seen much of them since
our arrival. They're very beautiful."
Qui-Gon nodded, fairly certain Xanatos wouldn't try anything
in the gardens in broad daylight, despite the new confidence he
now noticed. "Very well, the gardens it is."
The gardens were indeed beautiful, a mass of riotous colors
that probably made orderly designs when viewed from the air.
Viewed from the ground, however, the perfection of design was
less obvious here than in the other parks of Thani. The flowers
made nothing more than a jumble of color, as if someone had
thrown various paints on the greenery. The smell they created
was overpowering.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, pushing aside the
cloying smell and opening himself up to the Force. It was
strong here amidst so much life; perhaps if he had come here
sooner to meditate he would have felt the warnings from the
Force about his apprentice's plans.
No, it would do him no good to agonize over everything he had
missed, and how he had almost failed his student and the Jedi
order. He hadn't missed it entirely, and there was still time
to stop what had not yet occurred.
He reached out through the Force for his padawan's presence,
sensed the calm contentment the young man was projecting as he
meditated beside his master. Was he truly feeling that way in
his meditation, or had he progressed so far in his control of
the Force that he could project any feeling he desired? Either
ability only served to underline his strength in the Force.
Xanatos was more than ready to be a knight, if Force ability
were the only requirement. There were areas in which he
actually surpassed his own master.
However, Xanatos lacked that which mattered most in many
situations--experience. Mastery of the Force mattered very
little if you did not know when and how to use it to your best
advantage. Qui-Gon knew his student's weaknesses, had seen many
of them reinforced when they'd sparred earlier. Unless, of
course, Xanatos had been holding back, giving a deliberately
inferior performance to lull his master into a false sense of
security.
All right, so Qui-Gon would have to go into whatever happened
expecting Xanatos to be weaker, but not counting on it. He
could make that adjustment in his plans. He could do just about
anything if it meant stopping Crion's plans and saving his
padawan.
Enough thinking. He deepened his breathing more and let go of
conscious thought, drifting along in the Force, recharging
himself for whatever lay ahead. He would need all his strength.
He only hoped all his strength would be enough.
By the time they finished their meditations, Qui-Gon and
Xanatos had to rush to the evening meal. Crion was already
seated when they arrived in the dining hall, barely glancing up
from his first course as they sat down on either side of him.
As Qui-Gon dipped a spoon into the soup, he felt eyes on him,
raised his head to see the anger in Crion's accusing gaze. He
met the other man's eyes calmly, refusing to feel the slightest
bit of guilt. Let the old man think what he pleased; any
influence Qui-Gon had ever had on Xanatos could only be better
than what Crion's manipulation had done to him in the short
time they'd been on Telos.
He forced himself to keep the anger out of his own eyes and
waited until Crion realized he would get no reaction. The older
man finally turned his attention back to his meal, leaving
Qui-Gon to eat in peace. Or as close to peace as he could get
after all he'd learned during the course of the day. Crion
spent the rest of the meal talking to his son, ignoring Qui-Gon
as if he wasn't even there.
At the end of the meal, Crion stood up. "Feel up to a walk,
son?"
"Sorry, father, I have other plans." Xanatos gave his master a
slight smile, one that hinted at further amusement behind it.
Crion spared one last glare for Qui-Gon before he shrugged and
grumbled something to his son about seeing him in the morning.
After Crion left, Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice. "Well?
What are these plans you've been teasing me with all day?"
"If I told you now it would ruin the surprise." The smile on
his face broke into a wide grin as he stood and moved around
the table to hold out his hand to his master. "Come. Let me
show you instead."
The rich, seductive tone of Xanatos' voice sent an involuntary
shiver through Qui-Gon's body. If only he could just ignore
everything else but the promise in his padawan's slow, sensuous
movements, the guarantee of pleasure he could read in the young
man's eyes. If only they could go back in time and refuse this
mission.
If only he didn't have to choose between duty and his padawan.
All the wishing in the world wouldn't change reality. Focus on
the present; that was all he could control. That thought in
mind, he took his padawan's hand and followed him out of the
house.
Xanatos led him back through the gardens to a path that took
them to a thick patch of drooping trees. He'd never seen this
area of the grounds before.
"This spot has always been reserved for the governor, his
family, and special guests. My father showed it to me not long
after we arrived." He parted the leaves and branches and walked
through, holding the branches aside until Qui-Gon joined him on
the other side. "It was just after dusk, and all I could think
was that I had to bring you here. But at night, when it would
be perfect."
The trees surrounding the area appeared wilted at first
glance, but as Qui-Gon reached out through the Force he felt
the strong sense of life thrumming from them, as well as from
the grass surrounding the centerpiece of the whole site--a
small lake, just barely too large to call a pond. He closed his
eyes, drinking in the sensation of the living Force, and with
it the smells of life everywhere. The trees--some of which held
a blooming flower that smelled sweet, almost like honey--the
sharp scent of the grass, and the faint smell of the water all
combined to shut out the over-processed world outside and
create an illusion that they were isolated from anyone or
anything.
As he opened his eyes again, he almost kept himself from
wishing that were the case. "This place is truly beautiful," he
said softly, unwilling to break the mood by speaking too
loudly.
"You haven't seen the best part," Xanatos whispered back. He
reached over with two fingers and tipped his master's head up
by his chin until the older man could see the sky.
Qui-Gon blinked at the beauty of the stars, brighter here than
anywhere he'd seen on Telos or Nardir. "They're amazing," he
breathed.
"Aircraft are carefully diverted from this section of
airspace, and lighting in the city has been designed to keep
the glow here to a minimum," Xanatos murmured as he circled
behind his master. His hand slid down the older man's check to
rest on his neck. "The intent was to create a place rulers
could go to shut out the world and be alone with their
thoughts." His mouth was close to Qui-Gon's ear now, lips
moving against the lobe, sending fine tremors down the Jedi
Master's spine. "Somewhere they could think on their decisions
with no distractions, and commune with nature when the
pressures of people become too much."
Hands tugged off Qui-Gon's robe. He twisted his neck, seeking
his padawan's eyes over his shoulder, but before he could say a
word, fingers touched his lips. "Shhh," Xanatos urged. "Don't
speak. Don't think. Just feel."
His outer tunic disappeared, followed by the under tunic,
fingers touching his bare skin as the clothing slid off,
creating tiny bumps all over, and then he was bare to the
waist. Xanatos' chest pressed against his master's back as his
hands slid slowly around Qui-Gon's sides, up his chest and back
down to rest at his waistband, fingering the tie there, but
making no move to loosen it.
Just as Qui-Gon was about to speak again, lips fastened on his
neck. He gasped in surprise, back arching automatically,
pushing his hips back against the younger man's erection,
obvious even through both of their leggings. Where lips had
robbed the Jedi master of speech, teeth momentarily robbed him
of coherent thought. His hands reached up to thread through the
dark hair of the younger man, the fingers of his right hand
latching onto the padawan braid, looping it around his
forefinger as he held his apprentice's head in place, urging
him to continue.
Xanatos' lips and teeth moved down Qui-Gon's shoulder, meeting
with little resistance as he loosened his hold enough to allow
the movement. The braid slipped through his fingers, but he was
too lost in sensation to bother to chase it. As long as those
magical lips and teeth continued their work, he would not
protest anything.
After a moment, Xanatos moved around in front of his master,
kissing his way across his master's shoulder, licking a line
down to one nipple. He tugged at the tip with his teeth, tongue
flicking across it lightly before he released it and moved
quickly to the other one. Once the young man had teased there,
he tasted his way down the middle of Qui-Gon's chest, stopping
to loosen the ties of his leggings and drag them down to the
tops of his boots.
The boots were removed carefully, with a light caress across
the bottom of each foot that sent twin lightning bolts of
pleasure straight to Qui-Gon's hardening shaft. He gripped his
padawan's head again, this time to keep from falling over from
sheer pleasure as Xanatos licked along the underside of his
erection.
A strangled sound escaped his throat as Xanatos stood, but
before Qui-Gon could protest further, his lips were captured in
a searing kiss. He pulled at his padawan's clothes, wanting the
sensation of skin against skin, needing to touch every inch of
the younger man.
Boots and clothes discarded, Xanatos slid his fingertips down
his master's arms, and grasped his hands to pull the older man
toward the lake, his gaze locked on Qui-Gon's face. They
continued into the water until it reached chest level, then
Xanatos stopped.
"Padawan--"
Again Qui-Gon's mouth was covered. "Shhh. No talking,
remember?" He gave his master no time to disobey, replacing his
hand with his lips, devouring the older man's mouth with his
own.
Qui-Gon stopped fighting his instincts and gave in. If this
was all he was to have.... That thought was enough to drive him
to tighten his arms around Xanatos' body, pulling him as close
as he could get. Their erections rubbed together in the water,
the slick wetness minimizing the friction, keeping the movement
from giving him the sensation he craved.
He reached down to wrap his hand around both shafts, but
Xanatos stopped him. "No."
Words denied him, Qui-Gon tried to turn his padawan around,
but Xanatos shook his head and held his ground. "Follow me." He
backed up a few more steps, pulling his master with him, then
stopped suddenly. Qui-Gon felt behind the younger man and
realized there was a large rock behind him, one that nearly
reached the top of the water.
He lifted Xanatos up onto the edge of the rock in one swift
movement, their lips meeting again in a frenetic kiss as
Qui-Gon impatiently tried to prepare the younger man for his
entry. Xanatos refused to wait, pushing his master's hands away
and pulling his hips closer, a silent plea.
With one last look into his padawan's eyes, Qui-Gon entered
him slowly. Xanatos leaned into his thrusts, speeding them,
lips and tongue meeting Qui-Gon's with a sense of urgency. The
Jedi Master's hands gripped his student's hips, as he fastened
his teeth on the younger man's shoulder, marking him with a
reminder that would last for days.
Their pace increased until they could move no faster. Xanatos
kissed his master deeply, then stretched back across the rock,
his body arching as Qui-Gon drove all the way into him, burying
himself to the hilt. Dimly, he felt the bruising pressure of
Xanatos fingers as they dug into his forearms, anchoring him to
meet each thrust with his own strength. The water moved around
them, the splashing the only sound save harsh breaths and
incoherent mumblings as the two Jedi drove toward completion.
One final thrust and Qui-Gon froze, spilling himself inside
his padawan, concentrating on the immense pleasure, drawing it
out as long as he could. Finally spent, he collapsed along the
length of his padawan's upper body for a moment, breaths coming
in gasps as he calmed himself.
He realized after a moment that Xanatos was still hard beneath
him, writhing against Qui-Gon's chest in an attempt to bring
about his own release. Qui-Gon smiled and kissed his way down
his padawan's chest to his shaft, taking the younger man all
the way into his mouth, sucking hard as he worked his head up
and down, bringing him over the edge in moments.
Qui-Gon covered his padawan's body with his own for a long
moment, his head on Xanatos' chest, breathing in the scent of
the young man. The water lapped at them in waves, cooling their
heated bodies as reality slowly intruded. Qui-Gon wondered just
what truth really beat in the heart he could hear pounding
beneath his ear. Part of him wished never to find out. If only
they could just live in this one moment in time, it could be
perfect.
Another second passed, and the moment was gone. Xanatos
stirred beneath him, pushing lightly to get his master to move
so he could stand up. His body slid against the older man's as
he rose from the rock, pausing for a last kiss before the young
man sidestepped and moved toward the shore. He kept hold of
Qui-Gon's hand, pulling him along. "We should go inside," he
said, handing Qui-Gon his leggings before reaching for his own
clothes.
"Yes. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow." A mastery of
understatement if ever there was one. It would be the biggest
day of his life. He would either win the battle, or lose the
war. And if he lost the war, with it went everything he'd cared
about for the last ten years.
It was a long, silent walk back to the main house.
Consciousness came slowly the next morning, beckoning like a
beacon of light through the dark haze of his dreams. As Qui-Gon
became more aware of his surroundings, he realized he was alone
in the big bed. The spot beside him was still warm, so his
padawan hadn't been gone long.
Just as he was about to get up and go search for the young
man, the door opened, and Xanatos walked in. "Good morning,
Master."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows as he saw the tray in his
apprentice's hands. "You brought breakfast?"
"You don't have to sound so surprised. It's not as if I cooked
it myself. I just brought it up from the kitchen."
"Isn't that what the servants are for?" Qui-Gon asked, teasing
as the young man placed the tray carefully on the bed and sat
down.
Xanatos grinned. "I admit I've been a bit casual about
accepting such an easy lifestyle, including my taking the
servants for granted. However, I have not forgotten how to take
care of my master," he added, leaning in for a kiss.
"You certainly have managed to take care of me." He suppressed
a shiver at the thought of just how far Xanatos might have gone
'taking care' of him if he hadn't discovered Crion's plan.
"An easy and rewarding job, I assure you." A longer kiss then,
before Xanatos rose from the bed. "Father is going on camera to
talk to the people again in just a little while, and he's
invited us to watch if we like."
"I would like that." In reality, he would have preferred to
use the Force to make his apprentice sleep and drag him off the
planet. But he did not have that option.
"Excellent! I'm going to take a shower while you eat. If you
eat fast, you're welcome to join me."
Qui-Gon watched the young man as he disappeared into the
bathroom, banishing the images of their previous joint shower
from his mind. He focused on his food, not hungry, not tasting
anything, but forcing himself to eat nonetheless. Without a
doubt, he would need his strength on this day more than ever
before.
He ate slowly, anxious to have a good reason for not joining
his padawan in the shower. As tempting as it was, he'd told
himself at the lake the night before that that part of their
life ended there. It would forever stay behind at that lake,
cut off from the rest of the galaxy, where he would not have to
deal with the memories or the desires.
Unless, of course, things went well, and he left the planet
with Xanatos in tow.
Shaking his head, he rose to dress. He could not think of
success or failure, and what either would mean. The fight would
end however it ended, and he had little control over that. The
Force would guide him, and things would happen as the Force
dictated.
Belief in a higher power certainly had its advantages.
Once dressed, Qui-Gon placed most of his belongings in his
pack, leaving just enough lying around that Xanatos wouldn't
notice. He could easily throw those few things into the pack
and make a quick escape if that became necessary. He also made
sure the recording from the previous day on his comlink was at
just the right point in Crion's speech. Then there was nothing
left to do but wait.
When his apprentice came out of the bathroom, Qui-Gon was
ready and sitting calmly on the bed. "You did not feel like
joining me?"
"Later," he said with a smile, kissing the younger man lightly
on the lips. "When we have time for a proper shower." He hoped,
as Xanatos smiled and turned for the door, that they would
actually have that option.
Crion was waiting for them in his study, the lights already
turned up for the holo recorders, the desk tidy and
presentable, no hint of chaos anywhere--a perfectly respectable
scene. The governor spared a quick glare for Qui-Gon before
smiling at his son in greeting. Xanatos nodded to his father as
he joined Qui-Gon in the seats near the desk, just out of reach
of the recorders.
As they waited for the introduction to finish and the holo
recorders to start carrying across the country, Qui-Gon felt an
urge to fidget unlike any he'd had since his padawan days. He
kept his hands still only with a supreme effort, and his feet
managed to tap impatiently no matter how much he tried to
control them. Xanatos glanced at him, raising his eyebrows at
the uncharacteristic impatience, but Qui-Gon gave him a blank
look, and projected just enough lust through the bond to give
the younger man the idea that his impatience had nothing to do
with the matter at hand.
Finally, the holo recorders began to whir. Crion smiled into
the main lens, then began to read his carefully prepared speech
from the scrolling screen just to the left of the recorder. "My
fellow Telosians, despite my many efforts to negotiate a fair
contract with the people of Nardir, they have once again
stalled the discussions and made no move toward another talk.
Given the games they have played with us over the last few
months, and their obvious desire to hang onto a contract where
they are the main beneficiaries as opposed to negotiating one
that is fair, I see no other course of action except to take
what is ours by force. I come before you today to announce that
if contract negotiations do not begin by the end of the day,
Telos will be instituting military action against Nardir."
A slight pause to allow the gravity of the situation to sink
into the minds of the people, then Crion continued. "I realize
many of you have friends on Nardir, and I hope, should we be
forced to take action, that no one will be harmed. I wish this
could be different; however, given the circumstances, the time
has come where we have no choice."
The time had indeed come. Qui-Gon jumped up, pulling his
lightsaber from his belt and using Force-enhanced speed to make
it to Crion's side before Xanatos could react. As he used the
Force to pin Crion to his chair, he held the 'saber at the
ready, his thumb on the switch, and spoke to the holo recorder.
"People of Telos, I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Your governor
lies. He has been the true cause of the delays in negotiations.
The contract with Nardir is more than fair; in fact, it
benefits Telos far more than your neighboring country. The
governor, however, seeks to force the people of Nardir to
submit to his own will and create more wealth for himself in
the process. But don't believe me--listen to him."
Qui-Gon flicked the comlink on and held it up to the
microphone. Crion's voice poured out into the room. "The people
already believe Nardir is to blame for the delays. Tomorrow, I
will tell them we have no other choice, and declare war through
an announcement on camera. Once I do that, the people will be
straining to go to war. Telos will have the science, the
resources, and the factories, and the people will be rich. The
fools will love me for it, and they'll never realize how much
wealth I gain from it."
He turned off the comlink. "I call upon you to vote to remove
your governor from office and elect an official who has the
best interests of Telos at heart instead of his own." With that
statement, Qui-Gon ignited his 'saber and severed the cords to
the recorders and the sound system, cutting off Crion's only
way of attempting to sway public opinion in his favor.
Crion immediately began sputtering, careful not to move too
close to the Jedi Master, but beyond monitoring his movement
somewhere in his mind, Qui-Gon gave him little attention. His
eyes met those of his apprentice, who was looking at him with
hurt and bewilderment. "Master, what has gotten into you? I
don't know how you could have come by such a horrible
recording, but I assure you--"
Qui-Gon resumed the playback on the comlink. "We gain, Father.
We."
"Of course. Assuming your master doesn't mess this up."
"I told you to leave him to me. I can handle him. I've handled
him so far, haven't I?"
He switched the sound off again, eyes never leaving his
padawan's. Slowly, the innocent look faded, and the anger
burning in the midnight blue gaze was nearly enough to convince
him then and there that the young man was beyond saving. "You
lied to me," Xanatos growled.
"Oh, and you were truthful to me?"
"An eye for an eye has never been the Jedi way."
"Nor has deception. Or lies. Or violence. Or personal gain. I
could go on."
Xanatos' eyes narrowed to mere slits. "I wouldn't if I were
you." He pulled out his own lightsaber, powering up the blade
and aiming it in Qui-Gon's direction. "You have five minutes to
get out of the palace."
For a long moment, Qui-Gon stared at the young man. "Come with
me," he whispered hoarsely at last, eyes pleading with his
padawan to make the right choice.
The young man laughed harshly. "Come with you? Back to a life
of servitude, of bowing to the Council's will and going
wherever they deem necessary for the rest of my days with no
real home or family?" He laughed again, then took a step
forward, all traces of amusement gone. "You have four and a
half minutes," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.
"Better run."
One last look, and Qui-Gon moved backwards out of the room,
protecting himself from the front, feeling out with the Force
to ensure he did not need protection from behind. He ran to his
room, put the rest of his things in his pack, and hurried out
of the residence in two minutes, not trusting Xanatos to give
him a full five minutes before coming after him. He could no
longer believe anything the young man said.
Perhaps he never should have believed anything Xanatos had
said. If he hadn't been so blind, it was possible none of this
would have had to happen.
He pushed his own feelings aside, living purely in each
moment, duty sustaining him when emotion would have ripped him
apart. Time enough to deal with everything that had happened
later, when he, Telos and Nardir were safe. Until then, Xanatos
was just another evil in the galaxy. And Qui-Gon was alone,
with no one to cover his back.
Or perhaps he was not completely alone after all. He rounded a
corner a block from the governor's quarters and ran into a
large group of citizens. The anger from the group was rippling
through the Force in waves, something he would have noticed
sooner if he had not been so wrapped up in his own thoughts.
The people stopped when they saw him. "Master Jedi," a young
blonde man began, "we wish to thank you for opening our eyes to
what has been going on for the last few months."
"Somehow I doubt you all came down here just to thank me.
Especially not with weapons."
The man's mouth tightened. "No. We're going to take care of
the governor ourselves."
"You're going to take care of him?" Qui-Gon counted the group.
"There aren't even thirty of you, and you're not trained. The
guards outside the governor's residence would defeat you before
you ever made it to the inner regions of the building."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But we have sat back and allowed him to do
as he pleases for too long, and we will be complacent no
longer."
"And a lot of good it will do your families during your
funerals." Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, thinking
quickly. This was his fault in so many ways. He had not paid
attention, and he had let things get out of hand. While he
wasn't the one to blame for the event, he was partly
responsible for the severity at this point. His eyes opened
again, and he knew what he had to do. "I will help you."
The man nodded. "You'll come with us then?"
"You can't storm in there like this. That hasn't changed. Even
my help would not be enough. You need to gather more forces and
plan."
"Every moment we waste he gets closer to gathering his army
and becoming unstoppable."
"I overheard his plans yesterday. The army is not due in until
tomorrow. Even a few hours will make all the difference to you
if you plan well."
After a long look at the other members of the group, the
leader nodded. "We will wait and plan. But only for a few
hours."
"Agreed. Do you have a place we can use as a headquarters?"
The man nodded. "Then let's go."
With Qui-Gon's help, it took only a few hours for the group of
citizens to come up with a plan to get into the residence and
get to the governor. Qui-Gon was fairly certain that Crion
would be in his study when they attacked; however small groups
were being dispatched to a few other key locations, just in
case he was elsewhere.
In the time it had taken to plan, their ranks had grown to
over sixty Telosians.
The blonde man who had first spoken to Qui-Gon had become the
leader by default, as he'd explained while they walked to the
makeshift headquarters. Denis had been a member of the
volunteer peacekeeping force as part of the mandatory country
service all Telosian citizens were required to perform. He and
four other men joined Qui-Gon at the rough map he'd drawn of
the governor's quarters.
"These are a few of my buddies from my peacekeeper days."
Qui-Gon glanced up at the group. "You were all peacekeepers?"
At their nods, he turned to Denis, "Good. Send one with each
detachment breaking off to find the governor." Denis agreed and
began explaining the mission as they walked off, leaving
Qui-Gon alone.
He took one last look at the map of the building he knew by
memory. They were ready. Or as read as they could be. So why
did he still feel so concerned?
Perhaps because he was sending over sixty mostly untrained
citizens into a battle. Or at least aiding them in the fight.
The fact that they would have gone anyway--and with fewer
numbers and less preparation--was irrelevant. He had helped
with the plan. Not to mention that his padawan was now one of
Crion's greatest strengths.
"Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon turned to see Denis heading toward him. "Yes?"
"It's time."
The entire group was looking at him as if waiting for
something. He realized they were expecting him to say a few
words before the battle. He'd heard leaders rally their troops
on several worlds when he'd been sent in peace and war had
broken out despite his best efforts, but he'd never had to do
such a thing. Jedi were trained warriors, true, but taught to
use that training in defense, not to lead attacks. But now...he
had no choice, at least none that his conscience would allow.
He was their best chance.
"One of the tenants the Jedi live by is peace over anger. I
ask only that you keep that ideal in mind as we go into this.
We are working for peace--do not allow your anger to rule you,
or you become what you fight." He paused to let his words sink
in. "May the Force be with us."
The rebels made it through the first line of defense on the
outer perimeter of the residence without difficulty. Two of the
search teams broke off to sneak in during the commotion the
main group would make fighting their way into the front
entrance. It was a good, sound plan based on what they knew of
the governor's quarters and Crion's plans. It would have been
nearly perfect.
If only Crion's hired army hadn't arrived ahead of schedule.
Qui-Gon had managed to subdue two guards when he looked up and
realized there were suddenly far more defenders than there
should have been. And they were wearing the wrong uniforms. One
visual sweep was enough to tell him the odds were not in the
favor of the rebels.
He found Denis fighting a member of the regular guard and
grabbed him, knocking the guard out before pulling Denis away.
"We have to pull back!"
"Why?"
"The hired army has arrived; we're outnumbered. We cannot
win."
"Yes, we can!"
He tried to pull away, but Qui-Gon held his arm tightly. "No,
we can't. Look!" The Jedi Master pointed at more reinforcements
entering the front lawn. "We have to leave!"
After a moment, Denis relented. "Fine. I'll go after the
groups that broke off. You get everyone else to safety." Before
Qui-Gon could protest, Denis was running around the corner. To
try to stop him would only call attention to his movements.
With a sigh, Qui-Gon began gathering the other rebels and
ordering them back to the headquarters. As he found the last
member in sight, Denis rejoined him. One quick look at the
blonde man's face told Qui-Gon all he needed to know. "Come
on," he said, clasping Denis' shoulder. "We have to go."
As they ran away, Qui-Gon looked back over his shoulder. A
flash in one of the windows caught his eye. With a shock, he
realized it was Xanatos, watching. And smiling.
He turned and ran without looking back again.
//It was bliss. No, it was better than bliss. There were no
words to describe the intense pleasure he felt as his padawan
rose up and down above him, surrounding his hardened shaft in
tight heat. Xanatos laughed, and Qui-Gon looked up to meet his
padawan's eyes, surprised to see nothing there but coldness.
"Padawan?"
"You're a fool," he said, still laughing, his words completely
at odds with his actions as he continued to ride his master.
"You didn't listen. They tried to warn you, but you never see
the future for your concentration on the present. And now they
will all pay for your nearsightedness. He will pay. Now
and in the future, and it will all be your fault. Take
that to your death."
Before he could even raise a question, Xanatos' hands wrapped
around his neck, cutting off his air. He struggled, but his
padawan was too strong. He could feel his consciousness
fading--//
"Master Jinn!"
Qui-Gon awoke with a jerk. He jumped up from his chair, nearly
knocking over the table as he yanked his shoulder away from
Denis' touch. "Sorry...I must have been dreaming."
"Must have been a bad one. I wasn't completely sure you
weren't dying for a moment."
"That makes two of us."
"Excuse me?"
He shook his head as he sat down again. "Never mind. Has
anyone else come back?"
"Three more. I think that's the last of them."
"Forty-four people. We lost twenty-one." The loss staggered
him. So many...all his fault. With an effort, he banished the
idea of blame. There was no use in blaming anyone. Blame only
served to hinder rational thought and action. He had to live in
the moment. Focus on the here and now.
//'...you never see the future for your concentration on the
present.'//
"How are you?" Qui-Gon asked, needing to concentrate on
something other than his own subconscious. Denis had been
subdued since they had returned to the headquarters. Not that
such a reaction was a surprise. It was one thing to storm off
to attack in the heat of rage; seeing the result of a battle
was something else entirely.
"I'm hanging in there." Denis took the seat next to him. "It's
strange...I wanted to take back my country. But now...is it
worth the cost? So what if the governor gets rich? Telos gets
rich right along with him. Is that such a bad thing?"
For a moment, Qui-Gon studied him. "Is that really how you
feel?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." He ran his hand through his hair,
eyes lowered to the table. "When I found the first group, I
couldn't make myself believe it. They were lying there, and
there was blood, and it was...it was horrible. I thought
nothing could be worse."
"I know. It's never easy."
"I knew those people! They were my friends!" He took a
deep breath. "And I sent them in there to die."
Qui-Gon put his hand over the other man's on the table. "They
went in there of their own choosing. You did not choose for
them."
"Then why does it feel like I did?" He didn't wait for an
answer before he continued. "I thought that was the worst thing
I'd ever see. And then I found the others. And they weren't all
dead. Yet."
Denis met Qui-Gon's eyes, and the Jedi Master felt the hollow
emptiness of that gaze down to his soul. "This guy came at them
with a sword like yours. He sliced the two who were left down
like they were nothing.
A sick feeling settled in Qui-Gon's stomach, one he doubted
he'd ever be free of again. "What did he look like?"
"Black hair, pale. Like something out of a nightmare, or a
vengeance play. He was pure evil, I can tell you that." Denis
truly looked at Qui-Gon then. "Now you look like you've seen a
ghost."
"Close enough. I know the man you saw. His name is Xanatos."
"Gone up against him before?"
"No. He was my student until yesterday." He didn't dare
mention anything else about their relationship.
A frown settled on Denis' face. "You taught him...?"
"Not to be that way, if that's what you're thinking. He's also
the son of the governor."
"I didn't even know the governor had a son."
"I took him away when he was just a baby."
Denis shook his head. "No offense, but I don't think whatever
you've been teaching him all these years did a lot of good."
"I am aware of that." Qui-Gon softened his tone as he picked
at an imaginary flaw on the table. "He wasn't always like this.
Or maybe he was and I just didn't see it. I'm not sure
anymore."
"Either way, he's going to be tough to beat now. Do you think
you can do it?" It was clear Denis was doubting more than just
ability.
"I will do what I must." He could do whatever needed to be
done, if it came to that. But he hadn't given up all hope just
yet. No matter what Denis had seen. "We should finish packing
up," Qui-Gon said at last, getting up from the table. "We'll
need to be out of here and heading for new headquarters in the
next hour now that everyone's arrived."
The two of them headed towards the others, discussing the
move, the revelation of Xanatos' origins buried, but not
forgotten.
A month. Days and then weeks of fighting, of going up against
Crion's hired army and being beaten every time. And now they'd
reached the milestone no one had thought possible. A full month
of fighting, and they were no closer to winning than they had
been the first day.
Qui-Gon's eyes passed over the beds where wounded rebels lay,
some healing, some dying. He knew there were several more rooms
just like this one spread out in various planning facilities
they'd set up in the outlying areas just beyond Thani, and it
pained him; pained him more still to think of the graves they'd
dug, the pyres they'd built, and the bodies they hadn't been
able to get to in order to do either.
Thousands had died. And he'd sent them all to their deaths.
Not because he was the leader--after that first battle he'd
refused to lead, leaving Denis to take over those duties. But
he'd stayed, despite Yoda and the Council attempting by every
means short of a direct order to get him back to Coruscant.
He'd stayed because it was his fault. He couldn't lead them,
but he could help.
And his help had been so much good to them so far. He'd given
such great assistance that there were fewer rebels now than
ever, and less chance of them winning--if they'd really had a
chance to begin with. But still he stayed. They all assumed it
was because he wanted to help, and he truly did, but the look
he often saw in Denis' eyes wouldn't let him forget the more
compelling reason he'd stayed.
Xanatos.
Whether he was still trying to save the young man, or just
wanted to see his mistakes through to the bitter end, even he
didn't know. He only knew that he had brought this on, or at
least had been partly responsible, through his blindness, and
through his training of his apprentice, so he had to stay and
do what he could to correct his mistakes. Xanatos' shielding
abilities were better than he'd realized--or better than his
apprentice had led him to believe--but he could still sense him
sometimes, a fact that could lead to a tactical advantage for
the rebels.
"Qui-Gon?" Denis laid a hand on his shoulder. "We're going out
in full force at dusk."
He looked at the man who'd been so eager to fight a month
before. Now...he just looked tired. And old. "The chances are
not good, you know."
"Maybe," he said, his face tightening. "But if we don't win,
then we'll die trying."
"Is that what they'd say if you asked them?" Qui-Gon
challenged, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the wounded.
"No one is here by force. Anyone can leave whenever they
like."
He started to argue then realized there was no point. "I'll be
ready by dusk."
Denis nodded and took a step back as it to leave, but then
stopped. "You understand why we have to do this, don't you?"
Qui-Gon nodded without looking up from the table. "But that
doesn't make it any easier to watch people die in a futile
effort I've seen far too many times on far too many worlds."
"It may not be so futile. You can't actually see the future,
can you?"
"No."
"Then you never know. One man can make the difference against
an entire empire if he just has the right weapon."
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth lifted slightly. "I've seen that
too," he admitted. A soft chuckle was Denis' only answer before
his footsteps faded away.
The rebels met at dusk, leaving their various hideouts to join
forces just on the outskirts of Thani, as close to the
governor's quarters as they could gather without being
discovered. Qui-Gon looked out at the assembled group, a
smaller group than any they'd had since the first week. Many
had died; others had fled back to their homes, the reality of
war too different from the idea they'd joined up with for them
to handle.
In truth, he was surprised at how many had stayed. These
people were mostly scientists and management types, not trained
soldiers, or even laborers. Their dedication to their country
was admirable. That dedication, however, was killing them off
at a rapid pace. He doubted that had been in Crion's plans, but
he also knew the man wouldn't mind much. Less people to oppose
him, and less people to share the wealth with after it was all
over, for there was little doubt that Crion would win.
Unless someone got to him first.
Denis finished giving out orders and rejoined Qui-Gon at the
front of the group. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as the Force has made me," Qui-Gon gave his standard
reply, then added, "Let's finish this."
He received a quizzical look from Denis, but the leader said
nothing, just gave the silent command to move forward.
They were spotted as they neared the residence, as usual, and
met soon after by the hired army. It was always the same; only
the direction of their arrival and the number of people
fighting changed.
It was soon obvious the outcome would be the same this time as
well. Qui-Gon fought the anger that rose up inside him at the
futile efforts.
And then he saw Xanatos. His apprentice was standing with one
of the generals of the hired army, giving orders. The young man
stopped suddenly, head turning in Qui-Gon's direction as if he
knew he was being watched.
Qui-Gon had shut down his side of the bond as much as
possible, but he did not try to hide from his apprentice's
view. After a moment Xanatos smiled, then turned to the general
and said a few more words before turning away. He walked off
toward the residence without another look back.
Once the young man was gone, Qui-Gon looked again at what he
could see of the battle. There was no other way to handle this.
With a deep breath, he began to work his way around to the
side of the battle, intent on making his way into the
governor's quarters without being detected. This would end
today. He would see to it.
With the battle raging on behind him, Qui-Gon hurried
carefully around the edge of the outer perimeter of the
governor's quarters. He knew exactly how close he could get
before he was spotted, and he skirted the edge of that
perimeter around to the back of the grounds. As he'd suspected,
there were few guards in the back, only four posted lookouts.
He evaded those easily as he made his way to the building.
During his first days at the residence, Qui-Gon had gone for a
walk and come across a door that was mostly grown over with
weeds. He'd later found the room the door led to from the
inside to find that it opened, with a little pressure. At the
time he'd assumed it was an old, forgotten entrance to the
cellar, and hadn't bothered to ask about it. Now he hoped he
was right.
With a careful adjustment of the lock mechanism, he was able
to push the door open. He sensed no one on the other side, but
he was cautious nonetheless, never sure just how well Xanatos
could shield himself. The cellar was as dark and dusty as he
remembered, the only light from a dirty window near the ceiling
on the far side of the room. He waited a moment, but he could
neither see nor sense anyone in the room, so he continued on to
the stairway.
The door at the top of the stairs presented a new problem.
Qui-Gon knew it would squeak when he tried to open it, and
while it was in a remote part of the residence, there was no
way to be certain someone nearby wouldn't hear it. He reached
out with the Force, but the area seemed empty.
Trusting the Force to alert him to any danger, he pushed on
the door, holding his breath for a moment when the expected
squeak sounded. When it passed, and no footsteps came running
down the hallway, he breathed a sigh of relief and continued
on.
With the battle going on outside, Crion would most likely be
making plans in his study. Since he trusted so few people,
there was only one other person likely to be in the room.
No matter. If Xanatos was there, Qui-Gon would deal with it.
Crion had to be stopped, no matter what it took. Preferably
without bloodshed--no matter how he felt about that--but one
way or another, this had to end.
After close calls with two guards, Qui-Gon made it to the
study. The door was closed, but not latched, so he pushed it
open silently. There was no one at the desk, or at the large
map that had been hung on the far wall, presumably to plot
strategy since the war had broken out.
"I expected you here much sooner."
Qui-Gon stiffened as the silky voice reached him from his
left. He took a few steps forward to clear the door and turned
his head. Xanatos was lounging on the low couch along the wall
behind the door. The sight of the padawan braid, still hanging
from behind the young man's right ear, surprised him, but after
a moment, he recovered. "And I expected your father to be in
here with you."
Xanatos laughed. "Of course you did. That's why you snuck in
the cellar and up the stairs and all the way into the middle of
the residence to his study, just to kill him."
"No! To arrest him." Killing Crion was not something he would
allow himself to anticipate, even if he had single-handedly
taken Xanatos away.
"You knew I wouldn't let that happen."
Qui-Gon took a step toward the couch. "I didn't know that. I
was hoping to reason with you. If you would just listen--"
"Reason? Listen?" The harsh laugh rang out again as Xanatos
rose gracefully and advanced on his master. "And why should I?
You left me here; didn't you want me to stay and be my father's
son?"
"What?"
"It seems fairly obvious," he growled, hands on hips. "I
wasn't good enough to be your apprentice after all, so you saw
your way out of having to tell me that, and you left me here."
Qui-Gon stared at the young man. "Left you here? I
asked you to come with me. You threatened me and told me
to get out."
"And you left! You were my master!" He took a step forward,
his face inches away from Qui-Gon, eyes glittering like dark
sapphite jewels. "It was your job to stay with me!"
"Not like this!" Qui-Gon grabbed his apprentice's arm. "Not to
help you destroy two worlds!" He paused for a ragged breath,
scrubbing his free hand across the top of his head. After a
moment, he continued in a quieter, if no less intense, voice.
"Come with me this time."
Xanatos stared for a moment, features set, just long enough to
make Qui-Gon wonder if he was truly considering the request.
Then, slowly, he shook his head. "I can't. I have to stay and
see this through."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened
them again to look down at the man who'd been his student, his
friend, and his lover. "Then you've made your choice, and there
is nothing I can do."
He turned to go, but Xanatos' next words froze him. "Stay with
me."
Stay? He couldn't. He knew that he couldn't. He had duties,
and even if that weren't the case, the path his padawan had
chosen was wrong. Xanatos would only get worse.
Unless Qui-Gon stayed and kept him under control.
His eyes closed again. The idea was so tempting. Memories
assailed him, threatened to overwhelm him, but reality won out
in the end. He hadn't been able to control the young man before
this; now it would be impossible. Xanatos had set his own path
to destruction, and there was nothing Qui-Gon could do to stop
him now. That time was long past.
"No," he said, eyes open and clear for the first time in what
seemed like forever. He turned to face his apprentice--no,
former apprentice--again. "You have chosen this for yourself,
and I will not stay here and be destroyed along with you."
"Destroy me?" Xanatos laughed. "You think this pitiful group
of rebels can destroy me? They are nothing!" His smile turned
into a sneer as he leaned closer, his nose almost touching
Qui-Gon's. "You...you might have had that power once. But not
now. "
Before Qui-Gon could react, Xanatos grabbed the older man's
head and pulled him into a brutal kiss, crushing his lips
against his teeth. He fought until the young man lessened the
pressure slightly, pulling Qui-Gon's lower-lip between his
teeth and biting before letting him go with one last, soft
kiss.
Xanatos grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
He looked at the scarlet streak left behind, then at the cut on
his former master's lip. Eyes locked with the older man's, he
licked the blood off slowly, deliberately. "Go on then, back to
the Jedi," he said finally, voice low and heated. "Back to no
money, no power, no home--no thanks! But be sure to think of
what you could have had here."
"There is nothing here that tempts me," Qui-Gon said levelly
before turning toward the door.
"Oh really?" Xanatos responded, chuckling. "I suppose that was
my imagination, then, your reaction to me projecting my
activities night after night, back on Coruscant? And my
dreams?"
Qui-Gon stopped, only steps away from the door. He needed to
leave.
But he had to find out the rest first.
"I see I have your attention now," Xanatos gloated. "You never
considered that maybe you found it so easy to read my desires
because I was sending them your direction?" He laughed. "You're
more of a blind fool than I thought."
"It changes nothing." He took another step toward the door.
"Perhaps not. But what about your inability to save Stieg Wa?"
Again he stopped. "What does that have to do with this?"
"Ever seen a pocket Force inhibitor? Handy little toy. Picked
it up off a man who tried to use it against me in a seedier
part of Coruscant--one of those areas you wouldn't be
caught dead in. Or is that anything other than dead in?"
"Force inhibitors are illegal."
"So is murder, but then the poor man didn't seem to see them
on the same level in the moment before I ran him through with
my 'saber."
The walls Qui-Gon had built around his emotions shook,
threatened to crumble, but he held firm. Later, when there was
nothing else on the line, he could examine how he'd been so
blind about someone he'd thought he knew so well. Now he had to
leave. One step at a time. He put his left foot in front of his
right.
"Pity about Stieg Wa. I hear the Jedi found him in a brothel
on Tranine."
Right foot in front of the left.
"Though I suppose that's not as important to you as your
failure as a master, being led around by the cock by a mere
padawan."
Left foot in front of the right, and he was at the door.
Xanatos' laughter followed him through the doorway and down the
hall.
Long after he could no longer hear it, the laughter echoed in
his mind.
Qui-Gon made his way to the front door, intent on nothing more
than leaving. The guards wouldn't think him dangerous if he was
leaving the residence, and if they did, he'd take care of them
one by one. In preparation for that possibility, he ignited his
lightsaber as he reached the final stretch of the hallway.
Two steps into the large entrance hall, he skidded to a halt.
Crion stood in the middle of the room, blaster in hand,
blocking the exit. "Where do you think you're going?"
"We both know you won't win this fight. Give up now and save
us both the trouble."
Crion laughed. "Give up? Why would I want to do that?"
"You had your chance." Qui-Gon raised his left hand, holding
his saber out defensively. With his right hand, he reached for
the Force to pull the weapon out of the governor's hand, but
nothing happened. He frowned and tried again, but still
nothing.
"Oh, did I forget to tell you that my son loaned me his Force
inhibitor? He thought I might need it."
Only then did he notice the strangeness, the absence of the
Force like a thick silence around him. "It seems Xanatos has
thought of everything."
Crion's eyebrows rose. "What, now you call him by the name I
gave him? No 'My padawan, my apprentice' titles? No, I suppose
you wouldn't want him to belong to you now, would you?"
"You put those ideas into his head, didn't you?"
"I didn't have to put anything into his head, Master
Jinn. I just didn't lie and tell him he was imagining any of
it--your possessiveness, the ridiculous traditions, the
clothing--none of it has anything to do with his abilities.
It's all to control him."
"It's to help him control himself. We are given this power so
we may serve. Everything else is secondary to that."
The older man laughed. "Well now he's serving himself, and not
you. Get over it."
"Fine. He can serve whomever he likes. He is no longer my
concern." A lie, but he'd learned that lies had their uses inn
the right situations. He tightened his grip on his 'saber,
ready to attack if necessary. "Just let me pass." Not that he
had any intention of leaving without dispatching of Crion, one
way or another, but the other man didn't know that.
"Just like that? You'll just leave and let us alone?" Crion
laughed loudly. "Forgive me if I have a hard time believing
that."
"Believe what you like, but I'm leaving."
Qui-Gon took three steps forward before the governor fired,
sending a blaster bolt right into the lightsaber. It bounced
harmlessly off the 'saber and burned a black mark into the wall
just over Crion's left shoulder. "You won't be able to stop
them all, not without your precious Force."
"Try me." Qui-Gon's mouth tightened. "I'm not your son."
"That is one thing I am well aware of." He fired again, three
quick blasts that Qui-Gon was able to fend off as he ran
forward, slicing the blaster in half and putting an end to its
usefulness. He held his 'saber inches from Crion's neck. "Turn
off the dampener and give it to me."
The governor swallowed carefully. "Very well." He dropped what
was left of his blaster and reached slowly into his pocket.
Qui-Gon tuned his ears into the sounds around him, listening
for any sign of Xanatos, since the Force would be of no help
until the dampener was disengaged. A sound like a footstep
caught his attention a second before Crion's hand came out of
his pocket.
It barely registered in his mind that the governor held not a
dampener, but a vibroshiv, before Qui-Gon sliced downward with
his lightsaber as he jumped back, narrowly avoiding the humming
blade of the vibroshiv as it thrust upward toward his chest.
His 'saber sliced through the bottom of Crion's neck and down
his chest before cutting the vibroshiv, along with the
governor's hand and his ring, into two pieces.
The vibroshiv and the ring clattered to the ground as Crion
fell dead at his feet. His wounds had cauterized instantly, a
clean kill, but the smell of burning flesh from the slice of
the 'saber was overpowering and growing stronger as the
vibroshiv blade set the rug on fire, and it burned into the
flesh of Crion's hand. Qui-Gon fought back the nausea even as
he heard an inhuman screech behind him.
"What have you done?" Xanatos screamed, igniting his own
lightsaber and rushing forward, charging at his former master.
Qui-Gon turned, meeting the downward swing of the younger
man's 'saber with his own weapon, blocking with a standard
move. "I defended myself," he answered quietly, guiding the
fight away from Crion's body while still allowing Xanatos to be
the attacker.
"Defense? A Jedi Master against one old man holding a blaster,
and you call killing him defending yourself?" Xanatos backed
him against the wall and their 'sabers locked, humming as his
former padawan glared at him through the crossed blades of
green and red light. "I'll see you dead for what you've done."
Anger threaded through his voice and turned his dark blue eyes
black.
"You won't find that as easy as you might think."
"Really?" Xanatos looked around wildly. "Feel that? Or rather,
do you not feel it? The Force inhibitor is still on. We are on
even ground now, Master." He made the word into an
insult.
Faster than thought, Qui-Gon shoved the younger man, sending
him backwards onto the floor with such a force he slid several
feet. The slide brought him into view of his father. After a
shaky breath, Xanatos crawled over to where the man had fallen.
He picked up the larger portion of Crion's ring out of the
fire, held it in front of him despite the faint hiss of the
glowing metal in his fingers. He stared at it for a moment
before turning to Qui-Gon. Without a word, Xanatos held the
ring up to his face and pressed it into his cheek, eyes full of
cold fury as the metal sizzled against his skin. "This is my
mark, an outward symbol to remind me. Every time I look into a
mirror, I will remember how you betrayed me."
"I betrayed you?"
"You took my father from me! Twice! I was denied the right to
know him as a child, and when I tried to know him as an adult,
you took that from me as well. All so you could put a leash on
me." He grabbed the vibroshiv, heedless of the fire, and
quickly severed his padawan braid, throwing it on the floor. It
skidded to a stop near Qui-Gon's feet as Xanatos rose,
advancing on Qui-Gon, 'saber first. "Pity my mother is dead;
you could've killed her too!"
Qui-Gon was familiar with his former apprentice's fighting
style, but rage made him less predictable. The master had to
rely on split-second decisions based on body language to stay
one-step ahead of his former apprentice. On and on they fought,
locked in a deadly dance, the scene a bizarre imitation of past
sparring sessions. Only this time, there were no holds barred.
Finally, when they'd both gone past the point of exhaustion,
Qui-Gon gained a slight advantage. Before Xanatos knew what was
happening, his lightsaber was on the ground, and he followed.
The green blade of Qui-Gon's saber gave the younger man's face
an eerie glow as it hovered just off his chin. "Go ahead,"
Xanatos taunted. "Do it. You know you want to. We're such a bad
family; don't you want to finish off the line? What if I was to
procreate?"
It would be so easy. One small thrust with the 'saber, or
maybe a quick slice. Xanatos had turned. He must be stopped, or
he would only cause pain to everyone he met. The path was
clear--there was only one way left to deal with it.
Moments passed, but Qui-Gon couldn't force himself to deal the
final blow. Xanatos began to laugh, a wild sound Qui-Gon had
never heard before. "You can't do it, can you?" He laughed
harder. "Big Jedi Master, and you can't kill me. Why? Because
you fancy yourself in love with me? Or just because it would be
too much failure for your poor ego to take?"
Qui-Gon pressed the blade of the 'saber a little closer, near
enough to the skin now to be uncomfortable, but Xanatos didn't
flinch. And still, he hesitated. All he had to do was kill the
young man and be done with it.
No use. He couldn't do it. With a sigh, Qui-Gon pulled the
blade back. "Get up."
"What, I'm not to be killed?"
"Not by me. You'll go back to the temple and stand trial."
The young man pushed himself up off the ground, dusting off
his leggings. "For what? Failing to live up to the great Master
Jinn's standards? Or not being good enough in his bed?"
"For murder," Qui-Gon replied, ignoring the barb. "Along with
a few other crimes."
"We have courts on Telos."
Courts that he could bribe, Qui-Gon was sure. "You are...were
a Jedi. You'll stand trial as one."
"Well...when you put it that way...."
Before Qui-Gon could stop him, Xanatos lashed out with his
fist, catching the older man on the jaw. He fell backward,
jumping up quickly, but not fast enough to stop his former
student. He ran to the door, but saw no sign of the young man,
so he checked the hallways. Still nothing. He searched half the
residence before he realized the truth and gave up.
Xanatos was gone.
"And you searched the entire residence?"
Qui-Gon met Mace Windu's eyes without flinching. "I searched
the entire city with help from some of the rebels. There was no
sign of my--of Xanatos. And the treasury was missing as well.
He must have had an escape route planned, just in case."
The seemingly permanent frown on Windu's face deepened, but he
said nothing else, so Qui-Gon continued. "I told the general of
the hired army that his employer was dead, so they left."
"Chosen a new governor, they have?"
"Yes, my master. The rebels nominated their leader, Denis, and
he was elected within days. As soon as their governor was in
place, I returned to the Temple." Where he had immediately been
called into the Council chambers, despite the fact that he'd
barely slept since the last battle, but he refrained from
mentioning that part.
"Very well," Windu said at last. "It is clear that there was
nothing you could have done to foresee these events, and you
did everything you could to make restitution once your padawan
turned."
Master Yoda clicked his walking stick against the floor, more
as a hint to Windu than for any practical reason, Qui-Gon
suspected, since Yoda was in his chair. "Sorry, we are, about
your Padawan, Qui-Gon. Difficult, this is for you."
"Thank you, Master," Qui-Gon replied with a small bow. "I am
dealing with the situation."
"Nevertheless, a rest you need."
"I wish to resume my duties, Master. I'm sure the Jedi are in
need of an experienced warrior somewhere." After all, they
always were.
Yoda's eyes narrowed, small moss-green slits in his wide face.
"Time, you require. Not all wounds heal as quickly as physical
ones."
Qui-Gon knew it was useless to argue, so he bowed again. "If
that is all...?"
"You are free to go," Mace Windu answered. He bowed yet again
and left the chamber, finally making his way to his rooms for
the first time since they'd left for the mission.
It was only once he was in the room that it hit him. Xanatos
was truly gone, lost to him forever, as a padawan, as well as
everything else. He glanced over at the closed door to the
young man's room, thinking that the room would need to be
emptied. Perhaps he would have droids do it for him. He had no
desire to go through his former padawan's belongings, now or
ever.
The doorbell chimed, and Qui-Gon called out the entry command
as he sat down, too well-trained in politeness to not answer
the door. His master shuffled into the room, the door closing
behind him. "How feel you?" Yoda asked as he reached Qui-Gon's
chair.
"I am fine."
"Lie to your master, you should not."
Qui-Gon snorted. "Apparently that's not a lesson easily
learned by our line."
"Xanatos' lies, not your fault. Forgive yourself, you must."
"And if I can't?" The words came out before he could stop
them.
"Think you you cannot?"
He shook his head. "I don't know." The next words were harder,
but he had to finish. "When I found him in the residence,
before the fight...he asked me to stay. And I thought about it.
Part of me wanted to stay."
"Wanted and did - same thing, they are not. Right thing, you
did, regardless of the cost." He laid his hand on Qui-Gon's
knee. "Jedi, you are, my padawan. Jedi, always, you will be."
"But not a very good one. Not lately. He was my student. He
could not have controlled me if I hadn't wanted it, at least on
some level."
Yoda sighed. "Perhaps. Powerful and seductive is the Dark.
Know better next time, you will.
"There won't be a next time."
"So sure, are you? We shall see. Much to teach, have you."
Qui-Gon nodded, but only out of habit. He was not convinced he
had anything at all to teach that should truly be learned. As
Yoda turned to leave, there was only one thing Qui-Gon was
truly convinced of.
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