Series: Prime Priority - Part Four
Timeline: Takes place 22 days after the events of PP3 - First
Steps, but works fine as a stand-alone. Obi-Wan is
thirteen.
Archive: Yes
Fandom: Star Wars - The Phantom Menace
Pairing: none
Rating: PG-13
Category: drama, AU for the JA books
Feedback: Yes, please! To Heavysaber@hotmail.com
Summary: All that glitters is not gold.
WARNING: Anyone who has a problem with needles certainly
shouldn't read this.
Spoiler: For the JA books.
Disclaimer: Neither Obi-Wan Kenobi nor Qui-Gon Jinn are mine.
Please don't sue me, Mr. Lucas. I don't have anything except my
imagination and you absolutely can't have this!
Author's note: This story has been betaed by the wonderful Kat,
who again did the most amazing job and keeps my spirit alive. I
love you, Kat! All remaining mistakes in this story are purely
mine. I hold the copyright on them!
Story Dedication: This story is dedicated to Pumpkin; she knows
why...
When the unique smell of freshly brewed tea and coffee woke
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn in the early morning hours, he knew
that his Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi had either done something his
Master wouldn't like or wanted something same Master wasn't
likely to agree to. Either way, Qui-Gon had no intention of
letting the opportunity of one of Obi-Wan's breakfast creations
slip by. The Jedi Master was determined to relish one of the so
far rare occasions where his apprentice had risen before his
Master and Qui-Gon didn't have to wake the youth repeatedly,
who usually savored every single extra minute of sleep his
teacher granted him.
Qui-Gon rolled out of his bed and stretched his muscles in the
warm light of Coruscant's morning suns. He was now sure that
there was also the aroma of waffles and/or pancakes hanging in
the air. So this was what Obi-Wan had needed Qui-Gon's credit
chip for yesterday. He smiled, glad that his trust in the boy
had been affirmed once more. He rubbed the sleep out of his
eyes before he entered the living area to check if his nose was
as reliable as it used to be.
It turned out that it was. Albeit the Jedi Master had to
restrain a wince at the sight of the cooking-area, the looks of
the laid table promised to compensate for the catastrophe
formerly known as their kitchen. Since Qui-Gon had said more to
himself than to his student how much he envied Emjay for a
Padawan as skilled in the art of cooking as Ruben, Obi-Wan had
made it one of his personal goals to practice his own abilities
in this particular subject whenever his duties allowed it. The
Jedi Master only hoped he wasn't taking this too seriously. He
was supposed to become a Jedi Knight, not a chef.
"I wish you a wonderful morning, my Master," Obi-Wan greeted
him, smiling brightly, dressed in one of his new tunics. So far
nothing of his Padawan's features revealed the true intentions
Qui-Gon knew he had. He decided not to damp his student's mood
and to play along.
"Good morning to you too, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon followed the lead
of the inviting gesture his apprentice made towards the table
and sat down in his usual place, back to the window. The older
Jedi saw his questions as to the exact constitution of the
breakfast answered by the enormous variety of food Obi-Wan had
served. Apart from the coffee, tea, pancakes and waffles he had
already smelled, there were three different juices available,
more kinds of bread than he wanted to count, fresh fruits, more
cereals than they could eat in a week and about every sort of
topping one could buy down in the shops. Qui-Gon had to admit
that Obi-Wan really had put a lot of effort into his task of
appeasing his Master in order to either confess a misdeed or to
attempt to persuade him into something.
As usual, Obi-Wan took the seat across from his own and they
started eating in companionable silence, which was also not
unusual for neither of them was very talkative in the mornings.
Qui-Gon was wondering when his apprentice would make the first
step. He didn't have to wait long.
"Master?"
Here it comes, Qui-Gon thought. "Yes, Padawan?"
"Do you... I mean is there anything special you want me to do
tonight after our afternoon training?" Obi-Wan asked seemingly
casual.
"Not yet, but you know as well as I do that this can change
very quickly. Why do you ask?"
Obi-Wan wriggled on his chair. "Well... You see, I was
wondering if I...," the young apprentice stammered, obviously
unsure how to put his request.
"Just ask, Obi-Wan," the Jedi Master prompted.
The young Jedi inhaled deeply and followed his teacher's
advice. "I would like to watch the MSHL-game tonight. It's the
Coruscant Space Tigers versus the Alderaan Avengers." He nearly
fired these words out and after he'd ended his face only
signaled 'I did it. I may be dead now, but I did it'.
Qui-Gon waited a few seconds, enjoying every bite of the
delicious two waffles three toppings combination he had piled
up on his plate. Only when his apprentice's impatience nearly
screamed at him he said, pronouncing every word: "Coruscant
Space Tigers?" His Padawan nodded eagerly. "Versus the Alderaan
Avengers?" Another nod. "So?"
It took a second to get a reaction from his Padawan who had
literally held his breath for a few moments. "Master!" came
Obi-Wan's exasperated exclamation.
"Yes, Padawan?" Qui-Gon had a hard time keeping his voice
steady. Let alone holding back the smile that threatened to
show in his eyes and on his face.
Obi-Wan's face turned crimson. "I mean... I thought... this
game..." He stopped and tried again. "Everyone in the Temple
has been debating this game for days. I thought you knew how
important it is for the Tigers ---"
The older Jedi shook his head in disapproval. "How can a game
be important for our Order, Obi-Wan? Or for you? Regarding your
tight schedule a diversion like this shouldn't even be
discussed." With every word Obi-Wan lowered his head more.
Qui-Gon cleaned his hands meticulously. "Thank you for the
breakfast, Padawan. It's delicious." He rose and made for the
bathroom door, but turned after a few steps. "By the way,
Obi-Wan," he paused to wait for his apprentice's
acknowledgment.
"Yes, Master?" came the unenthusiastic reply.
"I'm quite sure the Tigers won't stand a chance. Not with
Gurian injured. Believe me. We'll see tonight how the Avengers
kick the Tiger's asses with a vengeance." Inwardly he counted
the seconds till his apprentice's face displayed first total
confusion, then utter disbelief, and eventually uncertain
delight. He made it to three.
"You mean... I may watch it?"
"Under one condition, my Padawan: I'm not going to hear one
word of complaint from you regarding the vaccinations we are
scheduled for tomorrow." Qui-Gon watched his apprentice
intently and inwardly scolded himself for using a trick like
blackmail to solve his problems. He saw how the cautious
delight changed to discomfort. But, as Qui-Gon had hoped, the
wish to watch this game was a little stronger than Obi-Wan's
need to openly protest against the injections. He also knew
that it wouldn't save him from the inconvenience in the end,
anyway, so the youth nodded.
"All right, Master. I guess, that's a fair price."
When Qui-Gon returned from the bathroom two minutes later to
resume his breakfasting, his student had regained some of his
good mood. He was happily decorating a pancake with syrups of
different colors.
"Master Mon-Ahan came here last night when you had retired,"
Qui-Gon informed his apprentice. "She and I made an appointment
for this afternoon's training session. We're planning on a
Padawan-exchange." The Jedi Master smiled at the puzzled look
on Obi-Wan's face.
"A what?"
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "Ruben sometimes needs someone who's
bigger and stronger than himself to spar with, and I think you
could only benefit from a little Force-control with Master
Mon-Ahan. So we'll change Padawans for some hours. Many Masters
use this method of training on a regular basis."
Obi-Wan looked hurt. "But you can teach me Force-control, too,
Master," he objected.
"Yes, but I'm not nearly as good in it as Emjay is. She brings
a thread through the eye of a needle without so much as looking
at it. Besides, you have to learn to be instructed by and to
work with other Masters than myself. Don't worry, Padawan.
It'll only be for a few hours."
The young Jedi clearly wasn't any happier with this
explanation, but he refrained from any remark that would
express his dislike of the arrangement. "I understand, Master."
"Now hurry up with your breakfast, Obi-Wan. I trust you don't
want to be late for your classes. And I have to participate in
that damn initiates committee. See you at lunch, Padawan." The
Jedi Master's gaze lingered on the still heavily laden kitchen
table. "I gather we won't have to cook for several days," he
sighed. "Do me a favor, Obi-Wan, and store everything away
before you go." As Obi-Wan's face lit up a little at the remark
Qui-Gon left his apprentice to fight the desperate battle to
diminish the supply of food.
In his room he quickly changed into a clean tunic and combed
his hair. He was a little early for his meeting and decided to
pick up Emjay. She was the chairwoman of the group and had
dragged Qui-Gon into it in the first place. And although he had
to agree that the initial idea had been a good one, the endless
discussions with the creche Masters and instructors were
leading nowhere. The entire experiment was a failure so far.
The Jedi Master reentered the living area and saw that Obi-Wan
had cleared away the last evidence of their luxurious
breakfast. "Have you taken your proteins?"
The youth turned and looked at him. "Yes, Master."
"Okay, then, I'll be off. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Obi-Wan's responding snort was cut short by the closing doors.
On his way to his friend's rooms Qui-Gon was lost in his
musings about this dreaded committee. It had all begun with
Emjay leading a class about basic Force-control for the
initiates. She had been shocked to see how much (or better how
little) previous knowledge the children had attended her class
with. So she had started a little investigation of her own, had
pulled a few strings here and there, and her closing report had
been so alarming that the Council had called this committee
into being and Emjay had been more than willing to take the
chair. That's how Qui-Gon had gotten involved into the matter.
And being honest with himself, he had to admit that he had
foreseen the dead end they were in now. More than seventy
children were brought to the Temple each year and the few
fistfuls of creche Masters and instructors didn't really have a
chance to properly look after them. It was the same problem
with the future Padawans. There simple weren't enough qualified
Masters available. That was also the reason why the Council
didn't like to see a Master without an apprentice or
Master-Padawan teams that didn't split up after the student's
Knighting. Lifebonded Masters were a problem too, because they
generally weren't able to form a decent Master-Padawan bond
with a theoretical apprentice.
To Qui-Gon's surprise the door to Emjay's and Ruben's quarters
stood wide open. And so did the windows, Qui-Gon saw when he
entered the rooms. The environmental control was humming
unhappily, almost unable to keep the air in the room breathable
for humans because of all the thin air that streamed in through
the open windows. He spotted Emjay's apprentice in the kitchen,
busied with the dishes. "Good morning, Ruben. Don't tell me
this Master of yours overslept."
"Greetings, Master Jinn. Not more than usual. She's in the
bathroom. Can I offer you something?"
The Jedi Master almost gasped. "Thank you, but no, thank you.
Do I want to know why all the windows are open?"
"Master made breakfast," Ruben answered in a
do-I-have-to-say-more voice. Yes, Qui-Gon thought smiling,
changing Padawans was certainly a good idea. He loved working
with Ruben. And being with Emjay would be a... valuable
experience for Obi-Wan, too.
Said Master appeared on the scene. "Making disparaging remarks
about your Master, Ruben?" she asked not very kindly. "Maybe
going a few days without breakfast would assist you in kicking
this habit."
Qui-Gon lifted an eyebrow at Emjay's tone, startled. She was
obviously in no good mood. Ruben didn't seem surprised, though.
"Never, my Master," he answered her question, bowing low to
stress his point and ignoring the fact that she had threatened
to starve him.
She threw her apprentice a long derogatory look before turning
her attention towards Qui-Gon. "Are we still having this
Padawan-exchange?"
"Good morning, Emjay. Yes, we are," he replied with some edge.
Two could play that game.
"Perfect. How did Obi-Wan take it?" Emjay was apparently beyond
any kind of criticism this morning.
"Not too badly. Although if it hadn't been for the little
manipulation he tried on me this morning it could have been
worse."
"Manipulation? Tell me."
They made their way out the door and Ruben spoke up before
Qui-Gon could answer. "Shouldn't we close the windows, Master?
Because of enza?"
That got Emjay started. "Enza? What the Sith are you talking
about?"
Ruben's eyes sparkled brightly. "Don't you remember what
happened to Knights Sothem and Nacnud last week? They left
their windows open and in flu enza."
The female Master rolled her eyes at her Padawan but Qui-Gon
could tell that she had a hard time hiding her amusement.
Sometimes being moody was a good thing, especially when it made
cheering someone up so much easier. Qui-Gon decided to support
Ruben in his task to change his Master's current mood so he
began with a detailed report of the morning's incidents. As was
to be expected, Emjay's attitude lit up against her will. She
was inwardly highly amused and her reluctant laughter was
contagious. "Bribed with your own resources, Qui-Gon. This
Padawan of yours is priceless."
He chuckled. "As is yours, Emjay," he said, smiling back to the
young man who followed them but who wasn't looking too happy.
Qui-Gon wondered what had happened this morning between Ruben
and his Master.
"Don't let me start on this subject, Qui-Gon, or our poor
committee members will run riot. Damn, this started so well,
but now we are stuck in useless discussions about the Masters'
rankings. But who am I telling this to?"
"Don't throw in the towel so soon, Emjay. I'm sure a solution
will present itself."
"You? Qui-baby, I know your opinion about... What did you call
them last time?"
"Bureaucratic baboons?" Qui-Gon supplied, deciding to let the
'Qui-baby' stuff slip. This time.
"Exactly. Okay, let's enter the arena," she said, opening the
doors of the large conference room where the meeting took
place.
Out of long habit Qui-Gon checked the contents of his tunic's
pockets before he changed into an older tunic for the upcoming
training session with Ruben, and put the other one into his
training bag. He looked forward to it, his muscles were stiff
and tensed from the long time spent sitting in that committee
meeting. A long, draining workout was exactly what he needed
now.
The uselessness, futility, and boredom of the committee had
only been interrupted once, when Emjay had filled Qui-Gon in
about this morning's affair between her and Ruben in the thirty
minute break she had called for around ten. She had made Ruben
go around to take orders from the other members and get the
little snacks and beverages from the cantina. It was rather
unconventional to use an apprentice like a droid but Ruben
hadn't protested in any way. Coming to that, he had presented
himself as the perfect Padawan during the meeting so far;
Qui-Gon hadn't once noticed him fidgeting or something of the
kind. Apparently, he knew that he was in some trouble with his
Master and after Emjay's briefing the Jedi Master wasn't
surprised.
"He came home very late in the night," the female Master had
begun her explanation when they were sitting alone at a small
table out of the way so no-one could overhear their
conversation. "Close to three. That's not unusual, he does that
from time to time and as long as it doesn't interfere with his
training I'm fine with it. He noticed that he had woken me and
came into my room to apologize and for the reassuring pat on
the back he likes to get. That's why I'm so certain about the
time. Next thing I knew was that it's past six in the morning
and that I'll be late for our committee. Ruben was, of course,
sound asleep the first time I pounded on his door and told him
to hurry. I took a shower and brushed my teeth and guess who's
not awake when I came out of the bathroom? Ruben. He knows that
I don't like to repeat myself so I went into his room and woke
him rather unpleasantly. I interpreted his murmured complaints
as signs that he was finally awake and so I started making
breakfast. I wasn't angry at him at that time but I was also
too tired to be amused, if you know what I mean."
She had continued after Qui-Gon's confirming nod. "When there
was no Ruben to be seen ten minutes later I felt the first tiny
flares of annoyance rising inside me. Running out of nice ways
to wake someone up, I filled a large bowl with ice-cold water
and emptied it over his head. That worked! Before he had a
chance to get a grip on himself I informed him that we were
already late for that damn committee and that he had better
hurry if he didn't want to see me really angry.
"I knew I had provoked him and I also know that he hates to be
provoked and therefore I wasn't surprised by the defiance I saw
in his features and felt along our bond. I chose to ignore it
and was almost out the door again when he said: 'I'm not
planning on going to that committee, Master. It was your idea
in the first place and I really don't see why I should waste my
time there.'"
Emjay had taken a deep, calming breath before she carried on.
"As you can imagine, that did it. Although I'm sure that I felt
a wave of regret for a split second before his shields snapped
in place, there was no way I could let this slip. I turned to
him, took on the best 'evil Master' pose I manage, and all but
growled: 'Young man, you have two choices right now. You either
get dressed immediately and join me at this meeting or I'll
make you.' With that I left the room to deposit the burning
remains of the breakfast. The rest you know," Emjay had ended,
obviously relieved that she had told the story to someone.
Ruben had returned from the cantina by then and was
distributing the drinks and snacks among the committee members.
Qui-Gon had thought about Emjay's story for a moment and
eventually had to smile, and after a second his friend joined
him. "I wouldn't go too hard on him for this, Emjay," the Jedi
Master had said. "You probably ripped him out of a deep sleep
phase, which makes everyone grumpy." She had only nodded in
response to his words.
Ruben had reached their table and was placing their tea and his
Master's small breakfast on the table before he had gracefully
knelt next to Emjay on the floor, being finished with his
deliveries and neglecting the empty chair. He had neatly folded
his cloak around himself, tucked his hands inside his sleeves
and kept his eyes on the ground; the embodiment of submission.
The Jedi Master had noticed that Ruben hadn't brought anything
to eat or drink for himself. Yes, Qui-Gon had thought, he
definitely knows that he is in trouble. "I will submit myself
to every punishment you deem fit, my Master," the young man had
said after a moment of silence as if to prove Qui-Gon's
assumption. Knowing his 'authority problem' one might wonder if
the young Jedi was only pretending; that he was just an
excellent actor devoting himself to his role as an obedient
student, but he had been Emjay's apprentice for over four years
now and so Qui-Gon was sure that Ruben wasn't acting in the
least. The young man loved and respected his Master and
followed her lead willingly, authority problem or no authority
problem.
In the end the only discipline Emjay had imposed on him was
that he was to practice the 'dead man' technique; beginning
after the game tonight and ending tomorrow morning, which was
quite a long period of time for this exercise and therefore a
particularly hard challenge for a Padawan of Ruben's age.
"Consider yourself lucky," Emjay had said. "that I overslept
myself today. Otherwise you could have forgotten about watching
this game."
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master," Ruben's reply had been. The
to-be-on-the-safe-side answer every Padawan was familiar with.
Lunch had been uneventful. Ruben and himself had settled for
some salad regarding the hard work-out they had planned and
they had tried to discuss the way the committee had developed
but it really seemed to be a hopeless point. Whichever way one
looked at it, the creche Masters could only work so hard. Same
went for the instructors from outside the Temple. But at least
everyone had realized that they had to find a solution for this
problem. The current situation was absolutely not acceptable.
Sighing, Qui-Gon brushed this line of thoughts aside and went
to get Obi-Wan who was slaving over some sort of navigational
exercise Master Mari-T'o had given him as homework. After lunch
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had made a short detour to their quarters
before the actual beginning of the Padawan-exchange. He
promised his young student to help him with his problem when
they got back, and the pair made its way out the door to meet
Emjay and Ruben in the upper practice arena in the first pylon.
They had split up in front of the gate to the arena and Emjay
had advised Qui-Gon to 'take it out' of her apprentice. Now she
and Obi-Wan were heading for the Force training room Emjay had
reserved for this occasion. Obi-Wan followed her silently
through the corridors and she used the few minutes they needed
to reach their destination to focus on the boy's feelings,
trying to establish some sort of makeshift connection between
the two of them. It couldn't be called a bond; it was more like
a temporary link. A weak link, nothing one could really rely on
but it was better than no connection at all. That Obi-Wan
wasn't participating in the provisional linking process didn't
make it any easier for the Jedi Master, but the fact that
Qui-Gon had only just started teaching him how to shield
allowed her to at least get some impressions of Obi-Wan's
emotions. Right now - not surprising at all - he was a little
scared and tense due to the new situation he was in. It was the
first time he was supposed to train with someone other than his
Master. Except, of course, for his classes but those were all
purely theoretical. A Padawan's Master was responsible for the
practical education of their student. Another subject that was
currently discussed in Emjay's committee.
They entered the small, windowless room in the middle of the
Temple and Emjay gave Obi-Wan a few seconds to take in all the
training tools on the various shelves and in the cabinets.
Presumably Qui-Gon had never been here with his apprentice
before to judge from the way the curious young man glanced
around. Her tall friend had never been a marked advocator of
these rooms. But they just served Emjay's purpose perfectly.
Objects of all forms and variations were waiting here to be
moved, piled up, flown around in complicated matrices, or
simply levitated by a dexterous Force user. If Qui-Gon
preferred to get his quarters messed up by a Padawan who got
disturbed while levitating a bowl of tomato soup from the
kitchen to the desk, that was not her problem.
Emjay settled down on the soft mat the room was covered with
and waved for Obi-Wan to follow her example. Obediently the
nervous young man knelt down across from her in the center of
the small room. He looked at her expectantly, apparently not
sure what to make of the circumstances. "I'm not going to bite
you, you know?" she said in an attempt to ease the tension. She
didn't get an answer and decided to bring in the bigger guns.
She reached inside her outer tunic and produced two lollipops,
offering one to Obi-Wan.
Emjay almost smiled at the expression of utter disbelief in the
boy's eyes. That had obviously been not at all what he had
expected. Obi-Wan first looked down to the offered lollipop,
than up to Emjay again, than curtly shook his head. "Master
says I shouldn't eat candy."
Emjay frowned and made a mental note that she had to have a
serious talk with Qui-Gon regarding his nourishing habits
towards his Padawan. Out loud she said: "Obi-Wan, if I recall
correctly, your Master and I are having a Padawan-exchange
right now. Meaning that - at least for the moment - you're my
apprentice. And as your current Master I order you to eat this
lollipop and enjoy it." She waved the item in question until
the boy had taken it. She smiled contentedly and unwrapped her
own lollipop. Obi-Wan didn't need another hint what to do with
the object and began to lick at it enthusiastically. The joy
with which he undertook this told Emjay that Qui-Gon's student
had a sweet tooth, no matter what this stubborn Jedi Master
tried to drill into him.
"Cranberry flavor," the female Master stated around a mouthful
of lollipop. They ate in silence for a few minutes and Emjay
carefully weighed up whether to start with the exercises they
had come here for, or the conversation Qui-Gon and herself had
agreed yesterday night that she should have with Obi-Wan. In
order to get the uncomfortable stuff off her hands she decided
in favor of the conversation. She tried again to get an idea of
Obi-Wan's feelings right now and she found him a little more
calm than only a few minutes ago. A good sign.
"Obi-Wan?"
"Yes, Master Mon-Ahan," he answered, not fast enough to appear
frightened.
"Do you know what a L'Biras Anad is?" she asked him, knowing
that he didn't. As was to be expected he shook his head and
gave her a curious glance, his thirst for knowledge awakened.
"It's something like a substituting Master, the direct
translation would be Guardian Master," she explained. Obi-Wan
frowned and shook his head, indicating that he had no idea what
she was talking about. And probably that he wasn't even sure he
wanted to know what she was talking about.
Emjay decided to try it another way. "You understand that your
Master is one of the most skilled in the Order?" Obi-Wan nodded
reverentially. "And you realize that because of this he gets
sent to the most demanding and dangerous of missions?" Another
nod, confused this time. "What I'm trying to say is," she
continued, "that sometimes he won't be able to take you with
him." Obi-Wan looked at her intently but kept his silence. "He
might get injured one day. Or worse." Realization dawned on the
boy's face, then it displayed sadness. Emjay hated herself for
taking from Obi-Wan the illusion of his Master's immortality.
And omnipotence for that matter.
Obi-Wan swallowed before he answered. "So you're saying that I
have always to take care of him? To protect him? I will,
really," he assured her.
Amazing, Emjay thought, how Obi-Wan's first concern had been
for his Master and not for himself. A selfless young man
indeed. "I'm sure you will, Obi-Wan. I'm sure you would give
your own life to protect your Master's." The boy nodded
anxiously and there wasn't the shadow of a doubt in his eyes
about it. "But what I actually meant was: What will become of
you if something happens to him? Or more likely: Where will you
stay if he's forced to leave you here for a few weeks or even
months?"
Obi-Wan needed some time to think about Emjay's question and
she was willing to give him all the time he required, meanwhile
enjoying her lollipop. She thought that cranberry flavor hadn't
been the best of choices for Qui-Gon would see their blue
tongues and undoubtedly make the correct conclusions. But what
the Sith, he would know anyway.
"I suppose I could stay at our quarters and attend my normal
classes. And I could eat in the cantina, I guess," Obi-Wan
eventually said.
Emjay nodded. "But Qui-Gon would neglect his duty towards you
if he just left you alone like this. Don't forget, Obi-Wan,
you're his prime priority now. In fact, you are not only his
prime priority but also his secondary and even tertiary
priority. And only after those follow the Order and the
missions. Your Master is responsible not only for you, Obi-Wan,
but also for your correct education. And even if he can't see
to it himself, he has to make sure you're properly looked
after. You can hardly return to the creche for a few weeks now,
can you?"
The boy shook his head and the sad and desperate expression on
his face nearly broke Emjay's heart. "You mean another Master
would be assigned to take care of my training?"
The Jedi Master nodded, astonished at how quickly Obi-Wan had
drawn the logical connection. "Another Master or - in
exceptional cases - a Knight, correct. But the decision of who
this substituting teacher is lies with Qui-Gon."
"Then who is it?"
"So far, Master Yoda. Because he was Qui-Gon's Master."
"You mean I would have to stay with Master Yoda?" the young man
asked, shocked, paling at the mere thought.
Emjay chuckled softly. "Yes, but rest assured. Since I've known
Yoda he's never eaten a Padawan. Nevertheless, you could ask
Qui-Gon to change the agreement."
Understanding lit up the youth's face. "You're talking about
yourself, aren't you, Master Mon-Ahan?"
She smiled knowingly. "You're very smart, Obi-Wan, and you're
also right. And if it interests you: If something should happen
to me the responsibility for Ruben will be allocated to your
Master. It would just be a case of returning the favor. But
Qui-Gon leaves the choice to you so I suggest you give the
matter thorough consideration before you make your decision,
okay?"
"I will, Master Mon-Ahan. May I ask another question?"
"I believe you just have, but yes, go ahead," she said
good-naturedly.
"You already have an apprentice to train and the Code forbids
expressly that one Master takes on two apprentices at a time."
Yes, Emjay thought to herself, Qui-Gon has most certainly
picked one intelligent young man here. "It's all right when the
other Master is just away for some time. And if the worst case
occurs it's only a temporary solution until a new, permanent
Master can be found," she informed him.
Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully and Emjay decided that this had
gone far enough. "Okay, I've surely given you enough food for
thought. Shall we start with the exercises now?"
They began with the lessons the initiates were introduced to in
the classes for Force-control. Obi-Wan moved balls of various
sizes from one shelf to the other. It was a repetition of a
beginners' course and after a few minutes of effortless
demonstration the young Jedi showed the first signs of
impatience. More and more of his concentration was wasted on
hiding his restlessness than on the actual task.
"Padawan Kenobi." Emjay acknowledged the slight widening of
Obi-Wan's eyes at the use of that expression and deliberately
ignored it. "Padawan Kenobi, follow me through here. We have to
start with the familiar and the known before we can discover
the new. We are no runaways. What we leave behind is as
precious as what we may find." Still sensing some reluctance in
the young man she added, "You wouldn't start your lightsaber
training with a free-style, would you?" Obi-Wan's face turned a
light shade of red and he shook his head decisively. Emjay
sighed, "Why is it that every lecture related to lightsabers
and fighting is so easily devoured by you apprentices? I gather
it would be easier if any exercise was executed with a drawn
lightsaber..."
The apprentice swallowed hard. "I am sorry, Master Mon-Ahan.
Can I begin anew?"
"I wasn't mad at you, Obi-Wan. You are doing well. I know that
the education in the creche isn't perfect, it's just a second
best. That's why I'll be talking basics over and over again.
Regard the Force as an additional limb. Like it's a third hand
or a another leg or ---"
"--- or a second brain?" the young Jedi supplied cautiously.
"Well, that's an interesting thought." Emjay smiled, glad to
see her apprentice-for-one-afternoon relaxing again. "But I
won't get philosophical now. There are one or two exercises
that might fascinate you after all."
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and closed his eyes shortly before
he resumed his former task. He repeated the practice until
Emjay sensed that it was done with nonchalance; like one would
brush away a lock fallen out of place or pick up lint from a
freshly cleaned floor.
That completed, Emjay introduced Obi-Wan to more delicate
problems. "It's easier to work with those crude, unbreakable
objects than more fragile items, of course. That will be your
next step. And now you won't only transport them but balance
them out in the air, something like holding the tension."
The young man began to refocus his attention. Emjay retreated
to her role as a mere watcher as he worked with the glassy
objects she had placed before him. Sweat formed on his forehead
and his breathing became more strained. Emjay was content with
his performance. It wouldn't take many sessions until Obi-Wan
learned that the various Force applications only differed in
the attitude attached to them. It was only a matter of
perspective. Size didn't matter, strength didn't matter,
intentions didn't matter...
"Watch out," Emjay called out, simultaneously directing her
attention to the shallow dish hovering in the middle of the
room, about a meter above the floor. She leveled it out with a
nudge of the Force, careful not to clash with Obi-Wan's
concentration he held on the fragile object. It was filled with
blue liquid that betrayed every unsteady movement. The Jedi
Master loved to work with the dish. It didn't only fulfill its
task as an indicator for the skill of the Force user, it was
also beautiful.
As soon as she had saved the dish from toppling and spilling
its contents she drew back, leaving it to Obi-Wan to regain
control. The young man was close to exhaustion. "You may let it
down now, Obi-Wan. I think it's time for a small break." She
produced two small bottles of juice from the bag she had
brought with her and handed one of them to Obi-Wan who had
settled down on the floor and cautiously dipped his right index
finger in the blue liquid of the training item. "It's only
colored water, Padawan Kenobi. Nothing of value."
The young man took the bottle and hesitated a second before he
opened it. "Thank you, Mater Mon-Ahan." He took a long sip and
then fixed his attention on the Jedi Master who had sat down
opposite him, her back resting against the wall.
"Spill it, Obi-Wan," she told him. The apprentice gazed first
at her, then at the bottle in his hand suspiciously.
Emjay laughed softly. "No, I mean tell me what's on your mind."
He joined in the laugh. "Why was that so hard?"
"Rephrase your question, Padawan, and the answer will reveal
itself to you," she said in perfect mimicry of a certain Jedi
Master. Stunned by the imitation of Qui-Gon's expression
Obi-Wan just stared at Emjay. She grinned. "Come on, Obi-Wan,
you already know the answer. It's not the exercise that's
hard," she used her teasing tone to nudge the young man out of
his consternation.
Obi-Wan slowly nodded and smiled. "It's me. I was trying too
hard."
"Congrats, young man, the jackpot is all yours. It's all in
your head, in your imagination. Regardless of the insufficient
training you've had so far you must have heard that one
thousands of times."
"True, Master. But what's in my head is my only reality."
Emjay kept herself from drawing a sharp breath. Not so much the
statement had caught her by surprise, it was more Obi-Wan's
tone. It was the first time he had spoken to her unguardedly.
And called her Master. She chuckled. "Now where have you
borrowed that one from? May I quote you on it?"
Obi-Wan grinned. "It's all yours, Master Mon-Ahan."
"Thank you, Padawan," she bowed her head slightly. "You are
right, you form your own reality. However, your access to the
Force enables you to expand that reality indefinitely.
Force-control will be like a map to guide you. Improve your
skills and you won't get lost so easily."
"It sounds so simple."
"It is. And vital."
"Like breathing."
Emjay got up. "You ready to breathe once more? We still have an
hour."
"Master Mon-Ahan, may I ask you something..." Obi-Wan paused.
"Personal?" he added, remembering her former reaction to this
question.
"Just go ahead. I don't promise to answer it, though." She had
picked up the dish and placed it on the shelf. When there came
nothing from the young Jedi she laid a hand on his shoulder.
"What is it, young Padawan?"
"Did Ruben chose Master Jinn as his Guardian Master?"
Emjay studied Obi-Wan intently and reached out along the
fragile link to assess the motivation of this question. She
found a mixture of feelings there. She sighed. 'Just ask him.'
"Do you envy Ruben?"
Pure astonishment displayed on his face, then realization. "No,
no, it's not that. I just wanted to know if he was... allowed
to make the decision on his own."
"I understand." A personal question indeed. Emjay was amazed
how Obi-Wan managed to surprise her repeatedly. "No, I made the
decision. But this is Ruben's story to tell, not mine."
"Master Mon-Ahan, I didn't want to ---"
"No need for apologies, Obi-Wan, no harm done. It was your
right to ask, but it's just not mine to answer. Can we continue
with your exercises now?"
Obi-Wan smiled. "Yes."
After another hour of Force exercises the strange pair made its
way back to the training arena. Qui-Gon and Ruben were still
working, Emjay knew after a quick gathering of the Force.
Obi-Wan was in a good mood. To say he was relaxed would have
been an exaggeration but he was definitely much less nervous
than only two hours ago. "Are you looking forward to our dinner
tomorrow?" she asked him to start a conversation. Since
Obi-Wan's Athinai she and Qui-Gon had tried to find an evening
that suited both of them and after almost four weeks they were
finally going to have the promised dinner.
A shadow flickered over Obi-Wan's face. "Yes, Master Mon-Ahan."
"What's wrong? You'd rather eat alone with your Master?"
He shook his head hastily. "No. No, that's not it. It's
something unpleasant I have to face prior to the dinner."
Suddenly the truth began to dawn on the Jedi Master. "Ah," she
said. "The vaccination." She smiled knowingly.
"Yes," the youth said sadly. "I guess Healer Asdo'r can't wait
to get his hands on me. There wouldn't be a way to avoid these
injections, would there?" he asked only half-seriously,
presumably knowing that there wasn't.
Emjay frowned a little. "Well, there's certainly no way around
the shots but there's most definitely one to avoid the Healer.
Why don't you ask your Master to administer the medication?"
"That's possible?"
The Jedi Master shrugged. "Actually, it's more than possible.
It's common. Ruben has never seen a Healer for a shot. Besides,
you have to do it yourself on the missions, anyway. If I were
you I would just ask Qui-Gon to do it."
They reached the gate to the arena. "I will do that, Master
Mon-Ahan, thank you."
The sight that greeted them when Emjay opened the door didn't
surprise the female Master in the least. It wasn't every day
that the free style and kata winner of the Bhavani did a free
sparring with an apprentice that was not his own. And from the
looks of it they had pulled out all the stops. A small audience
had gathered around them and was watching the pair intently,
some probably sympathizing with poor Ruben because he didn't
stand a chance against Qui-Gon. She and Obi-Wan made their way
further into the huge room to watch the spectacle from the
front-line and Emjay was pleased to see how much of a fight
Ruben put up against his superior opponent.
The Jedi Code described fifty-seven possible defense moves for
a lightsaber fight but only twelve offense maneuvers. This,
Emjay thought, reflected the overall attitude of the Order
pretty precisely. On the other hand the Jedi had created their
own moves - both attack and retreat - over the last couple of
hundred years and added them to their repertoire. Even
something so static and obstinate as the ancient Jedi Code
couldn't hinder the times from changing and the Jedi from
evolving and developing.
Emjay decided that her apprentice needed all the help he could
get, told Obi-Wan he should stay where he was, and stepped
closer to the opponents, crossing her arms over her chest. For
a moment she was distracted by how fast Ruben was making
progress in his fighting skills. She herself wasn't nearly as
good with the saber as Qui-Gon was and so she figured that
Ruben would surpass her when he was about twenty. Well, that
was almost four years from now. Probably earlier if Qui-Gon
found the time to work with him more often. Emjay took a deep
breath and began to analyze her Padawan's movements.
"Watch your left leg, Ruben," she called out, feeling the short
wave of joy along their bond as her Padawan noticed her
presence. "You're leaving your right side wide open for
Qui-Gon's greater range if you place it forward like that in
the Joten KyRO attack form. Do it again."
Ruben interrupted his present technique to acknowledge his
teacher's instructions, and attacked his rival in the Joten
KyRO once more. His left leg stood far better this time and so
Qui-Gon wasn't able to run the counterattack he had used the
previous time. "Good!" Emjay exclaimed. "Now see that you stay
closer to Qui-Gon. The closer you are the harder is it for him
to outmaneuver you."
Emjay was glad that Qui-Gon kept the game fair by pretending
that he was oblivious of her instructions and tips for Ruben.
Although her apprentice gave his very best Qui-Gon was always
faster to either block Ruben's assault or to step aside and run
a counterattack. Emjay felt the intense level of concentration
her student was in and the sweat was not only running down his
face but sprinkling from his soaked tunic. Qui-Gon pushed the
young man to his absolute limits; and just a tad beyond them.
Just as she had asked him to do.
Suddenly their blades crossed and Ruben tried to push Qui-Gon
backwards and instead found himself sailing through the air
before Emjay even had a chance to warn him. "Dumb mistake,
Ruben. Never start playing power-games with someone who's so
obviously stronger than yourself. Qui-Gon would have to stand
extremely unfortunate for you to have a chance to throw him off
balance. You should have retreated immediately," she lectured
him while the young Jedi slowly - obviously near exhaustion -
came to his feet.
They continued for half an hour longer before Emjay decided
that it was enough. Her apprentice really was running on his
last resources now. She ordered him to her side and whispered
some instructions into his ear. Ruben smiled warily and
returned to a waiting Qui-Gon. "The Wai-hey-wai attack form one
last time. I'm thirsty."
She observed in amusement how Ruben followed her whispered
orders to the point. He assaulted Qui-Gon in the right manner,
Qui-Gon blocked the strike with a standard left to right
defense, countered - as Emjay had foreseen - with a blow to
Ruben's right shoulder but Ruben, instead of parrying the
strike, dodged it and brought his lightsaber up with all the
speed he could still manage. The tall Jedi Master was surprised
by the sudden change of tactics and failed to avoid the saber
totally, enabling his younger opponent to drive the yellow
blade right through his left shoulder. Emjay knew that this
particular maneuver was one of her friends rare weaknesses.
"Yes!" she cried out, while Ruben and Qui-Gon bowed to each
other and deactivated their weapons, Qui-Gon grimacing and
rubbing his undoubtedly hurting shoulder.
Suddenly Emjay became aware of her surroundings again. The now
dispersing crowd murmured and discussed the extraordinary scene
they had witnessed. The performance had been highly
entertaining even before she had intervened. But now - with the
unexpected ending of the exercise - Temple gossip would have
new fodder for several days. The great Qui-Gon Jinn
out-maneuvered by a young upstart. Emjay refused to imagine the
tale that would circle the Temple in a few weeks, knowing the
way Temple gossip used to get out of hand.
"Well done, Padawan." She ignored the sweat her apprentice was
bathed in and drew him into a short embrace. "Now I can die a
happy woman." Her words had been loud enough for Qui-Gon to
catch them and the Jedi Master only snorted at her remark. She
gave Ruben a pat on his back and a quick kiss on his left cheek
and then turned to her friend. "Can I have him back now?"
"You never let him go in the first place," Qui-Gon grimaced,
shaking his injured arm repeatedly, in vain trying to relax the
cramped muscles, while he gathered his stuff with his other
hand. "Do I recall correctly that this is the same young man
you wanted to starve this morning?" He turned to his own
apprentice. "Obi-Wan, would you be so kind as to massage my
shoulder tonight? I took quite the hit."
Obi-Wan nodded, smiling. "Of course, my Master."
The female Master grinned and shrugged her shoulders. "Even if
I wanted to... how is he supposed to rip off your rose-colored
glasses when he's undernourished, dear?" she teased and was not
disappointed.
"Why not? That fight was hardly a fair test. Your joining
forces couldn't be foreseen. You're supposed to be cross with
him." He paused but before Emjay could retaliate he continued.
"Don't say it!" he said in a low warning tone.
"Say what?" Emjay was all innocence now.
"Don't give me that look, Emjay. You know perfectly well what.
Expect the unexpected. Point taken." With that he hurried to
the shower section, still trying to rub some life into his
shoulder.
Emjay made sure none of her triumph showed in her face when she
turned to her apprentice who had waited silently. She indicated
with the nudge of her head that he was free to go now and
joined the young man on his way to the showers, following the
lead of his training partner. "I'm very pleased with your
performance, Ruben. Your fighting abilities improve with each
day."
"Thank you, Master, but I think I'll be sore for at least two
weeks."
Emjay thought about reminding him that he certainly wouldn't
move too much during the coming night while executing the 'dead
man' technique but got a hold on herself. No need to rub extra
salt into the wound. Suddenly Emjay remembered the initial
number of members their little group had consisted of and
turned around to look for Obi-Wan. She didn't have to look for
long. The young man in question was standing on the exact spot
where she had told him to stay. "Obi-Wan! Come here," she
ordered and the youth followed her instructions immediately.
"What the Sith were you still doing back there?" she asked when
he had reached her.
"Complying with your orders, Master Mon-Ahan," the boy answered
truthfully and Emjay was sure that there was a mischievous
twinkle in his eyes.
"Aha," she said with a little mischief herself. "And if I
ordered you to jump from the third pylon tomorrow you would do
it, right?"
"Of course not, Master Mon-Ahan. Because the Padawan-exchange
will be over by tomorrow. In fact, I believe it just ended." He
quickly cast his gaze down so Emjay couldn't see his
undoubtedly triumphant expression. She could slap herself.
Out-maneuvered by a thirteen year old, Emjay, she thought to
herself, you're really getting old.
They had settled down at Emjay's large kitchen table and were
reviewing the training in general and the effects of the
Padawan-exchange in particular. Ruben had prepared an
egg-omelet and put everything into it from bacon to noodles and
they were all four devouring it now. Both Ruben and Obi-Wan
were checking the time repeatedly in order not to miss one
second of the 'important' game they both were anxious to see.
Emjay had found an urgent message from Senator Valorum on her
account and would be leaving soon to an additional
contract-signing in a situation which she had mediated and
witnessed earlier this week. They had agreed that Ruben would
watch the game in Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's quarters so that
Qui-Gon afterwards could prepare him and begin the 'dead man'
technique; Emjay would pick him up from Qui-Gon's place when
she returned from her unexpected meeting.
When both apprentices had left to do some 'really urgent'
shopping for the game Emjay first had the opportunity to tell
Qui-Gon how her conversation with Obi-Wan had gone. The tall
Jedi Master was so happy about the outcome that he refrained
from any remark regarding Emjay's bribing methods. "I'm really
glad he took it so well, Emjay. I had feared the worst. But it
appears that we've made the right choice by letting you talk
with him."
The female Jedi nodded and swallowed before she answered.
"Obi-Wan's no dreamer, Qui-Gon. He knows that no one promised
him a rose garden. Just let the matter rest and he'll either
ask you for guidance or come to a decision all by himself. Both
should be fine with you," she stated and Qui-Gon nodded his
agreement to her words. "Oh, one more thing," Emjay continued.
"He has quite the issue with Healers, hasn't he?"
"He talked with you about it?" Everything Emjay had told him so
far about Obi-Wan's reactions and behavior hadn't surprised
him. But now he was nonplussed.
"Hm-hmmm, and he'll most likely ask you to inject him yourself.
Would you please enlighten me why you send him to a Healer for
this, anyway?" she asked, evidently not understanding his
motives. She stood and began working her way through some
drawers on her large desk. She murmured something
unintelligible.
Qui-Gon shrugged his broad shoulders, wincing as that reminded
him of one specific saber stroke. "I don't know," he said,
thinking. "No real reason, I suppose. Master Yoda made me go
there, too."
"Yeah, but Master Yoda has only three fingers!" she pointed
out, exasperation detectable in her voice. "Where's this cursed
'dead man' kit?" she asked herself in a low voice.
"No problem if you don't find it. I can as well use mine," he
offered right when she had found it before she brought it to
the kitchen, handing it over.
"However, Qui-Gon. You might want to check why your Padawan has
this reluctance altogether." She put on her cloak while Qui-Gon
carried the dishes over to the sink.
"Is there a special reason you want me to do that? Do you sense
something peculiar or is it just a hunch?"
"I don't know, Qui-Gon. Call it female intuition. It just seems
so uncharacteristic for him, that's all. Okay, I have to be
going. Tell Ruben... No, don't tell him anything," she
corrected herself just as the doors opened and the two young
men emerged. Emjay caught the dark-haired man at his braid,
demanding his attention. "Behave yourself, Padawan. I don't
wanna hear complaints when I pick you up later. Am I perfectly
clear?"
"Crystal, Master," Ruben answered, kept from nodding by the
tight grip on his braid. She squeezed his shoulder once and was
out the door in a flash with her usual drive.
Qui-Gon sighed for no particular reason. "Everyone ready?" Two
Padawans nodded confirmation. "Okay. Then let's move this to
our rooms."
Only fifteen minutes later Qui-Gon's quarters looked like
something out of a 're-organize your life' advertisement. Ruben
and Obi-Wan worked hand in hand to make the room 'game-ready'
as Ruben had put it. Although Qui-Gon didn't understand what
being 'game-ready' had to do with removing the living-room
table, placing various thick blankets on the ground, and
decorate them with enough food for three days but he also
wasn't sure he wanted to know and so he kept himself from
asking.
The preliminary reports had started and the two boys were in
the middle of the last-minute-preparations. The Jedi Master
began to wonder if he'd got more than he had bargained for when
he had allowed his Padawan to watch that cursed game. If he
hadn't been sure about the authenticity of the message Emjay
had received, he would have suspected her of having manipulated
the entire scene that exposed itself in front of his eyes. 'I
can handle this,' he scolded himself. 'I can. I'm... I'm a
Jedi.'
Despite the fact that there was only advertising to be seen and
nothing indicated that the 'game of the millennium' was about
to begin in less than five minutes, the two apprentices settled
themselves in front of the screen. Stupid little sketches were
shown, encouraging the spectators to buy ridiculous stuff such
as curtains that took on the color of the owner's current
lover's eyes or an insurance optimized for the widowed father
of three boys and two girls, none of them over the age of
fifteen, who lived in a relatively stable part of Coruscant and
only left his apartment on three days a week.
Undisturbed by the goings-on on the screen his two charges made
a final run for the kitchen to fetch their drinks they had
stored in the cooling section. They were back in a flash and
resettled down on the floor. Not an easy task regarding all the
stuff they'd placed on the blanket. Ruben held a large bowl of
salted popcorn in his hand, at a loss where to place it. "Take
that for a sec, Obi-Wan." Without waiting for a confirmation he
pushed it into the younger Jedi's hand and opened a bottle of
sparkling lemonade. Unluckily, the liquid was still too warm or
Ruben had just been too careless and both Jedi were covered
with a purple fountain. Qui-Gon who had settled on the couch
with a few datapads ready to inspect, just closed his eyes and
counted to ten, then made it twenty. He heard Emjay's
apprentice cursing under his breath. "Why do I bother to wear
anything else than bathing suits? Would spare me a lot of time
and cleaning tunics."
Qui-Gon opened his eyes just in time to observe Ruben and
Obi-Wan race into the bathroom. The Jedi Master fought the
image forming inside his head; he really didn't want to know
what was going on there. He concentrated on the first datapad,
the report of this morning's committee meeting, when the tone
of the transmission changed. He looked up; yes, the game was
ready to begin. There was a list of the players displayed on
the screen, each name enthusiastically exclaimed by the
commentator. The boys re-appeared, miraculously not knocking
themselves out on the bathroom door and all but tumbled down on
the floor. Simultaneously, they reached out for the remote, and
Obi-Wan, being victorious in capturing it, turned up the volume
by several notches.
The Jedi Master thanked the powers that be that the quarters
were soundproof. Though... considering the talks of the last
days everyone in the Temple seemed to be eager to witness the
match. After all it was the first final and the Tigers hadn't
won the title for over a decade. Nevertheless, this was too
much. "Obi-Wan, have you turned deaf without me noticing it?"
"Sorry, Master, but..." Round eyes stared at him; the young
Jedi was at a loss for words. Ruben didn't hesitate to supply a
proper argument.
"It's part of the fun, Master Jinn. It makes you feel the
arena's atmosphere." A fanfare thundered through the room,
announcing the players now invading the field, a perfect circle
of about fifty square meters. Amazingly enough the noise was
overrun by the shouts and exclamations of the apprentices who
had jumped up in total unison. Ruben produced a large scarf,
striped in yellow and black, and swung it over his head.
Qui-Gon thought about covering his ears with his hands but then
decided to use the Force to block out some of the noise. Maybe
he should retire to his room and leave the boys and his
quarters to an uncertain destiny. No, this was too intriguing
to witness.
The second the anthems started all noise died down. Ruben and
Obi-Wan sat down again and dug into the bowl with the popcorn.
"Yuck!" Ruben let go his handful. "These are drenched with that
damn lemonade." Obi-Wan didn't seem to be impressed and just
munched on. Qui-Gon wasn't surprised. There wasn't much food
that his Padawan would refuse, except maybe if it was still
moving.
"Where did you get that scarf?" the younger Jedi asked his
companion.
"I bought it, of course. The streets are full of vendors
selling this stuff. But don't tell my Master. She's an avid
Avengers fan."
"She is?" Obi-Wan voiced in shock. Both Ruben and Qui-Gon
turned in amusedment towards the younger apprentice and Obi-Wan
continued. "I didn't even know she was interested in Herron
ball."
"Well, she isn't that much but she goes on and on about how
cute the Avenger's team captain is. So she'd placed a bet on
'Borea and his boys' as Master calls them. She even arranged a
private bet with Yoda that the Avengers will beat the Tigers by
at least five point difference."
Figures. It was just like Emjay. And Yoda for that matter.
Qui-Gon was brought out of his musing by another fanfare. The
players took their positions on the field, awaiting the prime
referee's signal to start. At his gesture a horn sounded and
the offense lines of the two teams headed for the ball lying on
the spot in the exact middle of the field. 'Borea and his boys'
managed to block the Tigers successfully, captured the ball and
made for the first attack. Only the offense players could
score, the defenders of the teams were only allowed to hinder
them in their attempts to get the ball into one of the seven
baskets that surrounded the field. Each basket hovered in the
air, controlled by computers, and the height changed in
irregular intervals, due to a random pattern, thus making it a
game of chance to a certain extent.
During the course of the first of three periods the enthusiasm
in the arena died considerably down as the teams were too
closely matched. Both defense lines were in top condition and
the score after the first twelve minutes was only 4:6 in favor
of the Avengers.
"I'll get some fresh popcorn."
"Yes, and don't spare the salt," Obi-Wan called out after
Ruben, who had disappeared into the kitchen, the empty bowl in
his hands.
"What? You just had the entire bowl for yourself! How can you
still be hungry?"
"Well, I'm not. It's just... it's just the feeling of it..."
Qui-Gon shook his head and suppressed a sigh. His apprentice's
diet had been corrupted more than enough for one day. How could
Obi-Wan make a valid decision about accepting Emjay as his
L'Biras Adan when he was manipulated by all that sweet stuff
she and her Padawan supplied? He began reading his report. The
atmosphere was somewhat checked now. Both apprentices were
subdued by the relative lameness of the game and by the fact
that their favorite team had the disadvantage of two points.
Not much, but still...
Ruben came back and the two Jedi started a discussion of the
game, both devouring the snacks that surrounded them. The Jedi
Master stood and made his way over to the boys and grabbed with
his right hand into the popcorn filled bowl. He stared hard at
his astonished apprentice. "All these sweets aren't doing you
any good, Padawan. Especially not in these amounts." His voice
was stern and held a slight reprimand, but he was determined to
let the issue be and not to press the argument. Nonetheless,
he'd had to make his point. Chewing on the corn he went back to
the couch, settled down once more and shoved the apprentices'
voices to a distant point of his mind, concentrating on his
report. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Obi-Wan's hand
at first hesitatingly, then more and more confidently dug into
the popcorn again. Well, Obi-Wan was old enough and he'd been
warned.
Suddenly Qui-Gon jerked up. Both boys were standing in front of
the screen, both shouting at the top of their lungs. Most of it
was unintelligible and the Jedi Master could only pick up a few
words. "... idiot. Did you see this?" That came from Ruben,
intermingling with Obi-Wan's exclamation, "... must be blind
and deaf. He just didn't..." Qui-Gon got up and stood beside
his charges, trying to figure out what had happened. He was
supplied with ample information. He raised his hand in
submission and ordered Ruben to explain the situation. He
didn't get all of it but obviously the referee had decided to
disqualify the Tiger's top scorer because of a foul that only
he had seen.
"Damn it. There are only three minutes to go and the Avengers
are still leading by one point."
"Watch your mouth, Padawan. I won't have you talking like
that."
"But Master..."
"No buts, Obi-Wan. Either the two of you calm yourselves or I
will end this spectacle." Grumbling the two boys settled down
on the floor again, staring glumly at the screen where the
players could be seen in a heated discussion with the four
referees. The prime ref ended the scenario by a re-start of the
game and the men had to concentrate on their strategies.
Qui-Gon kept standing and watched the game intently. It seemed
to be a lost one for the Tigers. They had lost one of their
players, were a point behind, and the Avengers were in
possession the ball. Only two and half minutes more to go.
With a desperate move one of the Tiger's defenders captured the
ball and tossed it over to one of his team mates who headed for
the nearest basket. He feigned a throw to distract the Avengers
and ran over to the opposite basket, the defenders of the other
team at his heels. He threw the ball from quite a distance and
scored just a second before the horn signaled the end of the
game.
For a second the arena and the quarters lay in dead silence and
then the ear-deafening shouts began. Obi-Wan and Ruben all but
screamed and clung to each other in a weird dance of joy.
Qui-Gon threw them a stern look, but they were oblivious to it.
It took the referees some minutes to sort out the pandemonium
on the field. Finally the two captains presented the two
players who would play for the victory. It was the first final;
so there had to be a decision tonight. One player of each team
was nominated. The player who scored first achieved the victory
for his team. Borea was to represent the Avengers and Nuban the
Tigers.
Obi-Wan groaned at the choice. "Why him? He didn't score once
tonight!"
Ruben shook his head. "This is different. He's the best for one
on one fights. And he has the most experience."
"Meaning he knows the best tricks?"
"Exactly," Ruben grinned. He clutched his scarf, belying the
coolness of his words. Qui-Gon smiled at the young man's
eagerness. The Jedi Master was captured by the game despite
himself now and concentrated on the screen.
For the final time the ball was placed in the center of the
arena and both players got into position. At the signal, both
made for the ball. Borea was younger and faster so the Avenger
picked up the ball and looked around to pick a basket. Nuban
used these moments of hesitation, was on him in a flash and
attacked. He twisted the ball out of the Avenger's hands,
backed away two steps, turned and aimed for the basket nearest
to him. It seemed ages before the ball landed in the basket and
all spectators had stopped breathing during those vital
seconds. The final score flashed over the screen in the arena
and the Tigers' fans broke out in shouts and screams.
Qui-Gon didn't have to check on the apprentices to know they
were out of control now. Both were literally bouncing through
the quarters, laughing and shouting at each other without
bothering about what they were shouting. He just smiled at
their display of joy and liveliness.
Ruben and Obi-Wan were clearing away the major part of the mess
such a game naturally created as Ruben had explained to
Qui-Gon, while he himself prepared the technique Ruben was
supposed to practice. He set up the sensor devices which would
monitor Ruben's muscles tone and connected them with the little
computer that would control the patches on Ruben's body. The
purpose of the 'dead man' exercise was to keep the body in
total immobility, while one was simultaneously supposed to
watch one's surroundings alertly and - if one was good - regain
strength out of the process. It was a very demanding exercise
and most apprentices didn't like it very much, considered it
boring and inconvenient, not least because of the little shocks
they got every time they moved a muscle. The 'dead man'
exercise was generally used as a preliminary stage for the
Mejis.
Out of good sense Ruben asked to use the bathroom before
Qui-Gon attached the patches. The four primary sensors formed a
square now in one corner of the room, next to Qui-Gon's desk
and the Jedi Master started to program the little computer,
which he had placed on said desk. Obi-Wan watched him out of a
corner of an eye, curious about the procedure. Ruben came out
of the bathroom and looked a little doubtfully at the scene.
"You okay, Ruben?"
"Yes, Master Jinn. It's just that I haven't the slightest idea
how I'm supposed to get out of this alive." He began to strip
so that Qui-Gon could stick on the patches, glad that Ruben was
apparently accepting his penalty also at Qui-Gon's hands.
"One rises with a challenge, Ruben."
"That would be better said: One rises with one's Master's
expectations." The Jedi Master smiled at the remark and
gathered the sticky gel he would need to affix the patches to
the young man's body.
"Should I leave?" Obi-Wan quipped when Ruben was about to
finish undressing.
"Not for my sake," Ruben said when Qui-Gon didn't answer his
apprentice's question. "You might as well stay and learn what
your Master has in store for you once you're a few years
older." He took up a position in the middle of the room where
Qui-Gon had easy access to every region of his body. He seemed
relaxed and calm, Qui-Gon noticed nothing he should worry
about. He had crossed his hands over his stomach and was
waiting for Qui-Gon to apply the patches.
Qui-Gon sighed once more and decided to start with Ruben's back
side and squatted down behind the young Jedi. He took the first
patch from the small box - each one not bigger than a thumbnail
- and smeared some of the gel onto it before pressing it to the
back of the young man's right knee. Ruben winced ever so
slightly. "Shh," Qui-Gon tried to soothe him.
"It's okay. Just cold," Ruben explained his reaction.
It took three or four seconds until the gel had hardened and
the patch would stay in place on its own. All in all twenty
patches would be attached on sensitive areas on the human body,
including the genitals. Ruben endured the whole procedure
stoically, not even flinching when Qui-Gon spread his legs a
little further apart and gently affixed two patches on the most
delicate of spots and so Qui-Gon was through with it in under
five minutes. "Okay," Qui-Gon said. "Get dressed and then we'll
start."
While Ruben put his clothes back on, Qui-Gon explained to his
apprentice the basics of the 'dead man' training method.
Although Qui-Gon clarified more than once that the slight
shocks Ruben would receive from the patches weren't painful,
Obi-Wan still eyed the procedure suspiciously, obviously
convinced that it wasn't entirely delightful. The Jedi Master
hoped that Ruben's reaction would teach him better.
Finished dressing, Ruben resumed his position inside the
makeshift square, face to the closed kitchen door, indicating
to Qui-Gon that he was ready to begin the exercise. The Jedi
Master noticed with a raised eyebrow that the young man had put
on his cloak as well. "Why are you wearing your cloak, Ruben?"
he asked.
Ruben grinned a little sheepishly. "So I can put my hands
somewhere." Qui-Gon smiled. He knew what Ruben was talking
about. There had been times where Qui-Gon had actually felt
naked without his outer cloak just because he didn't know where
to rest his hands.
Qui-Gon was positively surprised by Ruben's bearing. He had
counted on a lot more resistance from this young man, who was
famous for his defiance. Ruben apparently trusted him more than
he had thought, but Qui-Gon wanted to make sure his outwardly
displayed calmness wasn't only mimed. He used the Force to
reach out to Emjay's apprentice but his touch was blocked by
Ruben's mental shields. They weren't particularly tight but on
a high standard level that prevented Qui-Gon's Force probe from
seeking any further.
Ruben shot the Jedi Master a short bold look and Qui-Gon
thought that he had finally managed to trigger the young Jedi's
defiance after all but after a split second Ruben hung his head
and deliberately lowered his shields to allow the Jedi Master
entrance to his mind. Qui-Gon carefully hid his amazement at
Ruben's cooperation; this was almost going too easily. He
suspected that Emjay had impressed on him to behave impeccably.
Qui-Gon found nothing disturbing. Ruben was tired from the
short night and the exhaustion of their training but otherwise
calm and only a little annoyed by the procedure. Qui-Gon nodded
to himself and saw no further reason to delay their beginning.
He walked over to his desk and laid his hand on the power
button of the device. "Okay, Ruben. Stand comfortably, try to
relax, and keep your head straight," he instructed the older
Padawan. Ruben complied and gave Qui-Gon a curt nod to affirm
his readiness. The Jedi Master activated the computer and while
Ruben remained absolutely calm, he saw his own apprentice
flinch fiercely on the living room couch where he had settled
down to study. From now on the sensors would monitor every
single muscle of Ruben's and transmit the data to the device,
which would, in accordance, activate the twenty patches on
Ruben's body should the young Jedi move. Those patches would
administer small amounts of electricity to the body, but not
enough to cause actual pain. Ruben would feel a superficial
inconvenience, reminding him of the fact that he had moved
which he wasn't supposed to do. Only movements of his pupils
and his eyelids were tolerated so the young man could watch his
surroundings (one of the basic intentions of the technique) and
wet his eyes. And of course, swallowing and breathing wouldn't
cause a reaction either.
Qui-Gon watched the young Jedi a few moments longer before he
suddenly remembered Emjay's hunch or whatever it had been. He
quickly activated his comm-station and filed a request for
Obi-Wan's complete medical record. The automatic reply assured
him his order would be fulfilled within the hour. Satisfied,
Qui-Gon wanted to head to the kitchen to make something warm to
drink.
"Master? Could you help me with this navigational problem now?"
Qui-Gon smiled and redirected his steps to join Obi-Wan on the
couch. Tea could wait.
Qui-Gon spent the time between his request and the arrival of
the record helping Obi-Wan with his homework. Not that he
needed a lot of assistance but Qui-Gon used the opportunity to
refresh his own knowledge. Every time the low humming tone
marked that electricity was floating through the patches,
Obi-Wan winced beside him. He didn't seem sure whether to throw
compassionate looks to Ruben or accusing glares to his Master.
"He didn't move, Master! I saw it; he didn't move and the
machine hurt him."
"Perhaps he just twitched a tow or a finger inside the sleeves.
And it's not hurting him, Obi-Wan," his Master explained for
what seemed the twenthieth time. If his apprentice asked one
more time if it really, really and absolutely wasn't painful,
he would interrupt the exercise, put one or two patches on
Obi-Wan, and activate the computer just to show him that it
indeed really, really and absolutely wasn't painful whatsoever.
The older Padawan did well. Once the Jedi Master had to
deactivate the machine with a tendril of the Force. It had gone
off repeatedly and Ruben had tried to shift his weight from one
foot to the other. As it turned out, his right calf had cramped
and Qui-Gon had massaged it a while and then made Ruben walk in
circles for a few minutes until his muscles had relaxed again
before reactivating the device.
Ruben himself wasn't too fond of the whole situation, but
either didn't dare to protest or knew it was futile and saved
his breath. Either way, Qui-Gon was very pleased with the young
man so far although he foresaw that Emjay would have to call an
end to the exercise before the morning. It was most unlikely
that a sixteen year old apprentice could make it through the
entire night.
As if that thought had triggered it, Ruben heaved a sigh,
producing the programmed reaction from the device. Instead of
falling back into his trance-like stance like he'd been able to
do so far, the young man became more and more restless. Qui-Gon
reached out with the Force and the first thing that touched his
mind was the horror of his own apprentice. He shoved it aside,
gently but firmly, and scanned for Ruben's feelings. He found
the young Jedi highly alerted; something was wrong. The initial
movement hadn't been physically generated, Qui-Gon was sure of
that.
Cautiously he forced Ruben to take down the shields the
apprentice had built up again, unintentionally it seemed, as if
in a reflex to protect himself. His probing was successful and
a clear picture formed in the Master's mind. Emjay. Ruben
reached out for his Master, almost desperately. In a split
second Qui-Gon was at Ruben's side, switching off the computer.
Ruben relaxed a little and slumped forward. The bigger man
feared he might faint and grabbed his shoulders, steadying him.
He felt the body still trembling. The young man's eyes were
dilated as if he'd just awoken from a dream.
"What... Whe... Where is my Ma...ster?" he brought out with
difficulty, staring hard at Qui-Gon.
The Jedi Master touched the apprentice's cheek with his left
hand and said quietly, "Try to remember, Ruben. Where are you?"
He sent out calming thoughts and pictures to support the effect
of his talking. All the time he was aware of Obi-Wan's presence
but there was no time to change that now. First he had to get
Ruben back. Somehow his own Padawan realized he was of no help
and retreated, both mentally and physically. Qui-Gon was
relieved when the strain on their bond relaxed and Obi-Wan
backed away. The Jedi Master nearly smiled.
Ruben blinked several times and his eyes took on their normal
deep brown color. "Master Jinn... What happened?"
"You lost control during the 'dead man' technique, Ruben." He
let go of the apprentice's cheek, but let his other hand stay
in place; a rather symbolic gesture since the young man had
regained his hold on himself.
"My Master... she hasn't returned yet from her assignment?" If
this should have been a statement it was an insecure one.
Qui-Gon scanned Ruben's condition once more and found the
source for the young man's feeling. Fear. Fear that Emjay had
left him here for the entire night. Fear of abandonment.
Qui-Gon smiled reassuringly. "I'll expect her any minute now.
It's not that late... and you know how tenacious bureaucratic
issues can be."
Ruben nodded eagerly, as if the very movement could convince
him of the truth the Jedi Master had offered him. "Shall we
continue now?"
The older Jedi marveled at the young man's spirit. He was a
fighter for sure. Qui-Gon suppressed an 'If you feel up to it'
and was about to re-activate the computer when Obi-Wan appeared
at his side.
"Is he all right?"
"He is fine, Obi-Wan," Ruben supplied, stressing the first
word, and grinned. "You can trust your Master's words. This
isn't hurting a bit."
Qui-Gon saw from his Padawan's expression that he refused to
let go of his doubts. Stubborn. Qui-Gon shook his head. Or
determined. Whatever word he chose to characterize his student,
mere talking wouldn't help here.
"May I prove it to him, Ruben?"
The older apprentice nodded, his eyes sparkling. "Padawan,
stretch out your arm and roll up the sleeve." After a moment's
hesitation the young Jedi followed his order. Qui-Gon shoved up
the sleeve of Ruben's left arm a little, removed the patch and
re-fixed it on his Padawan's arm, a little above the wrist.
"Ready?" he asked. Obi-Wan nodded once, slowly.
Qui-Gon activated the program. "Move a bit, Ruben." The older
Padawan complied and Obi-Wan's eyes rounded in astonishment.
"But that was..." he paused, staring at Qui-Gon, nonplussed,
"nothing..."
His Master gave him a told-you-so look, deactivated the
machine, re-applied the patch to Ruben's arm once more and
watched his Padawan return to his books, clearly relieved
judging by the spring in his steps. Qui-Gon sighed audibly.
When he looked up he found Ruben grinning mischievously.
"Kids," Emjay's apprentice stated. Qui-Gon couldn't hold back
his own amusement any longer and smiled. He nearly tousled the
young man's hair but instead he only gave him a slight pat on
his shoulder.
"Ready?" and after Ruben's affirmation he switched on the
program. Qui-Gon reached out with the Force once more. Yes,
there shouldn't be any problems. The apprentice was relaxed and
calm. The Jedi Master rubbed his eyes and returned to his desk.
Leaning back in his chair he observed his two charges. Obi-Wan
was obviously content now, a look of concentration on his face
as he solved the problems Qui-Gon had pointed out to him. And
Ruben just stood there, breathing regularly, the heaving of his
breast the only movement apart from the occasional blink of his
eyes. As if nothing had disturbed his trance in the first
place. Emjay could be proud. And Qui-Gon was proud to be his
Guardian. It was more than getting the opportunity to train
with a more advanced educated, challenging, and older partner,
although this had been the most prominent reason for taking
over certain aspects of Ruben's training. In good time Obi-Wan
would be just as demanding as a fighting partner, but for the
time being Qui-Gon enjoyed his sessions with Emjay's Padawan.
But it was more than that. He actually liked the young man. He
had spirit, wasn't easy to handle and had a mind of his own.
Qui-Gon smiled. Ruben had the potential to become an
exceptional Jedi. If he overcame his weaknesses... Emjay would
see to that, Qui-Gon was sure.
He was ripped out of his cogitation by a signal from his desk
computer. He suspected that the data he had made the
application for had arrived. He wasn't mistaken. He downloaded
the record into a datapad and settled with it and the tea he
had finally managed to brew on the couch. He didn't share
Emjay's concerns but it wouldn't hurt to check, would it?
During the next fifteen minutes or so Qui-Gon's frown deepened
steadily and he could feel a lump building and growing in his
stomach. According to this record, Obi-Wan had repeatedly spent
several days in the infirmary when he was about three and a
half years old. This wasn't the reason for the lump, the reason
was that there was no cause given. Neither was any comment made
as to the treatment or medication. This fact itself wasn't so
remarkable, either. The fact that it happened repeatedly was.
Apparently, Obi-Wan had spent several weeks in the infirmary.
Not in a row but with interruptions of sometimes just a day or
once a whole week. It seemed Emjay's intuition had proven
legitimate after all.
"Obi-Wan? Come here to me, please." His student complied,
leaving his books on the floor where he preferred to study, and
joined his Master on the couch with a questioning twinkle in
his eyes. "Padawan, have you ever spent any length of time in
the Healer-building?" Qui-Gon asked straight away and the
youth's eyes widened in shock and his skin paled a shade or
two.
"No! Master, no. Never! Thank the Force," Obi-Wan said without
thinking before he realized what he had said and flushed. "I...
I meant, no I've never had to stay there overnight, Master, and
I'm thankful for it because I don't... like the infirmary very
much, Master," Obi-Wan shyly admitted a fact Qui-Gon had been
aware of since their second day together.
The Jedi Master smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring and
ruffled his Padawan's hair. "I know, Obi-Wan. It's all right,
don't worry. It was just a question." He dismissed Obi-Wan to
his homework again, his brain working double shifts. He had
feared (or hoped?) that the boy had forgotten about the
incident. He immediately discarded the possibility that his
apprentice had lied about his ability to remember the event. He
was as sure that Obi-Wan had told the truth as he was sure that
he owed Emjay a thorough thank you. Unfortunately Qui-Gon liked
neither of the two remaining possibilities, which were a) that
someone had - deliberately or not deliberately - entered false
information into Obi-Wan's medical record or b) that someone
had 'forgotten' to record the additional data for a very good
reason. A reason Qui-Gon had yet to find out about.
The 'dead man' device made its buzzing sound again and Qui-Gon
looked up to check on Ruben. The young Jedi was smiling and the
Jedi Master knew that Emjay was back. Not even a minute later
the door chime sounded and Qui-Gon opened the door for his
fellow Master. She threw him a odd look and the tall Master
suspected that she could probably read something about the knot
in his stomach on his face.
Ruben got another shock from the patches and that finally drew
Emjay's attention to her exhilarated apprentice. The female
Master deactivated the machine and her Padawan instantly used
his regained physical freedom to lower his head so he could
rest his forehead on her shoulder. Qui-Gon had to smile at that
scene; however self-confident Ruben might appear, he still
needed the strength and the guidance of his Master desperately.
Most people outside the Temple underestimated the bond between
Master and Padawan by far. Jedi apprentices could never do what
they did without the mental and personal support from their
Masters. They were children who were denied childhood and
instead taught to negotiate, to mediate, and to fight. And
sometimes to kill.
Jedi Masters were required to be mother, father, teacher,
trainer, and best friend all simultaneously for their Padawans.
A Jedi apprentice without their Master was like a carriage
without a horse. Sometimes the Master was like a single
prospering flower in a garden of weeds. Qui-Gon could still
vividly remember how hopelessly he had depended on Yoda. There
had been times where the ancient Master had been the only
reason for Qui-Gon to continue his training in the field
instead of volunteering for the AgriCorps. Especially at times
when they had waded their way through another bloodbath they
hadn't been able to prevent.
"You shielded," Ruben accused after a few seconds of silence.
"I'm sorry, Padawan. But that damn Senator with his
old-fashioned perspectives really pissed me off. And I didn't
want to disturb you with my emotions running wild like they
did. Did you behave?"
Ruben lifted his head and looked over to Qui-Gon, who
deliberately kept his features expressionless, and then nodded
a little uncertainly. "I think so, Master." His Master nodded
approvingly and gently squeezed the young man's shoulders.
Qui-Gon suddenly realized that he wanted to talk to Emjay about
what he had found out and that he didn't want to do it in front
of the two apprentices. Obi-Wan was so quiet and respectful
that the Jedi Master had almost forgotten him. "Obi-Wan, please
help Ruben to pack up the sensors and the computer. Emjay?
Could I have a private word with you in the kitchen and no,
it's not about Ruben." His friend nodded and he led the way to
the kitchen, handing her the datapad he had worked with when
they were inside. The female Master studied it for some moments
and then nodded slowly.
"It's nothing clearly indicative but it's sure as Sith strange.
Have you decided what to do in the matter? Have you talked with
Obi-Wan about it?"
"Obi-Wan doesn't remember it and I figured it wiser to keep it
that way for now. I'm planning to pay a visit to the Healers
and demand to see the visual records of those times. Actually,
I was just waiting for your return so I could go. I have a bad
feeling about this, my friend, but I can't put my finger on
it."
"I know what you mean," she said compassionately. "By the way,
did Ruben really behave?"
Qui-Gon inclined his head curtly. "He did. I was relieved and
surprised how little resistance I encountered during the
exercise."
She smiled ruefully at him. "You know, Qui-Gon, I think you're
the only one who's able to handle him at least somehow. He
fought the authority of every other Master I let him work with
so far."
"I take that as compliment."
"Okay, then let's go," was all Emjay answered before making her
way to the living area again to collect her Padawan so they
could leave.
Qui-Gon gathered his own cloak from the wardrobe. "Padawan,
I'll be gone for an hour or so. I expect you to be in bed when
I return, all right?"
Obi-Wan looked up from his studies, a frown on his face. "But I
thought you wanted me to massage your shoulder, Master?"
"Another time, Obi-Wan. Not tonight. Sleep well." Emjay and
Ruben also wished Obi-Wan a good night and the three Jedi were
on their way to the elevator. Qui-Gon nodded his farewell to
the other two when they entered the first car. He waited for
the next one for he needed to go in the opposite direction.
"Good hunting," was all Emjay said for a good bye.
Half an hour. It had taken half an hour to get through to
Healer Refron's personal assistant. Qui-Gon didn't worry that
anything of his built-up impatience, his increasing concern
over his Padawan's past and above all his pent-up anger was
showing in his words or his expression. He knew he looked...
composed outwardly. Years of training and experience enabled
him to let others see what he wanted them to see.
"All I can do for you, Master Jinn, is give you an appointment
with Healer Refron. He's unavailable now." The Gorian showed
white sharp teeth in what was obviously a friendly smile. The
Jedi Master only saw a mocking grin.
"I don't need an appointment, not with your superior, nor with
another being who informs me that he, she or it isn't allowed
to grant me my request. All I need are those reports - the
complete files. No is not an acceptable answer."
"It's the only answer I am entitled to give you, Master Jinn. I
will introduce your... case to Healer Refron and he'll get in
contact with you as soon as he returns from his home planet."
The tall Jedi Master took two steps forward, straightening his
back. He had refused to sit down and listen to another
variation of polite excuses and evasive explanations. All that
was getting him nowhere. All he had learned by now was that
there was something wrong. Unluckily Gorians were completely
Force insensitive. Well, there were other means. And Qui-Gon
wouldn't hesitate to employ those.
"I don't think this will be necessary, Karaldim." He gave the
Healer's assistant a curt nod and left, certain the man would
use the comm-link as soon as he had left the room. Well,
Karaldim wasn't the only one who would have another
conversation...
On his way to Yoda's quarters he activated the device to get in
contact with his former Master. An automated recording informed
him that the old Jedi had deactivated his personal comm-link.
Qui-Gon suppressed a curse and made another call. In answering
his inquiry the Council's secretary refused to pass on his
request. He spared himself an answer and headed for the
Council's pylon. One more 'Sorry, your request cannot be
granted,' and he'd probably lose his control after all.
With long strides he hurried through the corridors and entered
another elevator. During the ride he reflected upon the
arguments he had used on the various personal and not so
personal assistants and on the assistants of assistants. Every
single reason he had given them had been countered by
non-committal smiles. With every excuse his own determination
had grown. Now his desire to find out what had happened to his
Padawan had turned into a need that blocked out any other
thought.
This was going to be a first. Never before he had consciously
taken advantage of his relationship to Yoda, the head of the
Council. To be honest, there had never been the need for
exploiting this fact. After all, utilizing one's connections
was the top gun of diplomacy. A weapon that had become rusty in
Qui-Gon's hands. Now he was ready to wield it, for the sake of
the most important person in his life. The thought of Obi-Wan
made his heart ache and his breathing laborious. His futile
attempts to access those cursed reports might have damaged his
pride. His helplessness angered him. All those feelings didn't
matter. All that did matter was that he had to uncover the
truth. For Obi-Wan's sake. To help his apprentice. Nothing else
mattered.
Qui-Gon exited on the floor the lounges were located. He
reached out with the Force and went on, almost running. Ah, the
terraces. They gave access to an impressive view, especially at
night. Yoda often held congregations there.
The Jedi didn't need long to spot his former Master in an
animated discussion with the dignitaries of various species.
What looked like an informal meeting was a social occasion of
some importance; otherwise Yoda wouldn't have deactivated his
comm-device.
The old being looked up, acknowledging Qui-Gon's presence. He
stopped in mid-sentence and excused himself, making his way to
his former apprentice. Qui-Gon was relieved he didn't have to
drag him out of the room, though he had been prepared to do
just that.
"Follow me you will," Yoda stated and passed him on his way to
another meeting area. When the two of them were out of earshot
the old Jedi faced Qui-Gon. "A good reason you need to explain
this." He was clearly annoyed.
"Obi-Wan."
Yoda's stern gaze softened somewhat. Still all of his aura said
'This better be good'."Dragged me out of a diplomatic reception
to tell me name of your apprentice, have you?"
Qui-Gon swallowed the smart remark and only needed a few
minutes to enlighten his former Master, telling him of Emjay's
suspicion and his futile investigation. It was hard to
recognize a frown on Yoda's wrinkled face but Qui-Gon felt
astonishment and not just a little anger in the ancient being.
"Return to your quarters. Those reports, delivered to you they
will be. Within this hour."
"Thank you, my Master," Qui-Gon replied, a considerable part of
the tension he had been under dissolving into nothingness. He
didn't wait for another remark from Yoda, certain there would
be none. In a very short time he would know.
Back in his own rooms, Qui-Gon was pleased to see that the
lights were dimmed, the living area had been cleared up a
little, and Obi-Wan had retired. He quietly opened his
student's door to peek in, but although the lights were off the
young Jedi wasn't asleep. "Master?" he voiced carefully.
"Yes, my Padawan?" Leaving the lights off, Qui-Gon sat down on
the corner of the bed. The incoming illumination from the
living area was enough to see the strained expression on
Obi-Wan's face. "What's troubling you?"
"It's about the vaccination," the young man admitted shyly and
then added hastily, "but it's not a complaint, really!" before
Qui-Gon could remind him of the promise he had made that
morning. The Jedi Master didn't say anything, just calmly sat
there. He started gently stroking Obi-Wan, waiting for the
young man to find the right words, albeit he probably already
knew what this was about. "I... I was wondering if maybe you
could..."
"Administer it?" Qui-Gon supplied and Obi-Wan nodded, flushing,
obviously a little ashamed. "Of course, I will, Padawan, if you
prefer it. Had I known how you feel about it I would have
injected you the first time myself, too," he assured him, when
the strained expression on Obi-Wan's face turned into a
relieved one.
A brief check via the Force disclosed Obi-Wan's state of mind;
obviously Qui-Gon's honest and carefree answer to his plea had
destroyed his embarrassment, on the other hand a low throbbing
of fear seemed to accompany his student's gratitude. The Jedi
Master didn't give in to his impulse to stay. To prevent his
student from interrupting Qui-Gon's inspection of the files he
was expecting, he needed Obi-Wan asleep. Better to leave him
alone.
"Sleep now, Obi-Wan. It was an eventful day." He smirked a
little at the expression. 'Eventful' was a colorless
description. But then his lack of eloquence was hardly
something he had a mind to reflect on now.
"Yes, Master. And thank you." Obi-Wan stifled a yawn.
"No need to thank me, Padawan. Good night." He stood up and his
shadow fell on the young Jedi's face. Qui-Gon had never allowed
himself to follow the dangerous paths of superstition, but at
that moment... Obi-Wan looked so young and vulnerable and the
man's determination to protect him was so overwhelming that he
hastily left the room, closing the door behind him. If he only
knew... Well, he wouldn't have to wait much longer.
He fled into the only occupation he could think of right now.
Making tea had always been kind of a ritual for him. The
familiar preparations calmed him, telling him there still was
sanity and normality to be found in this universe. Obi-Wan's
request... he had been expecting it, of course. Nonetheless it
had been like placing a finger in an open wound. And it was
futile to linger on the fear he had been unable to take from
his Padawan. He had to open some closed doors and follow some
dark leads before he would able to attack Obi-Wan's dread.
The water started boiling and Qui-Gon prepared the first
infusion. When he was about to dispose off the liquid the chime
went off. He nearly burnt himself in his successful attempt to
prevent the tea pot from breaking as he had set it down hard in
the sink.
The tall man hurried into the living area. "Enter." It was
Karaldim, holding a stack of data chips in his hands. How
typical of Yoda. Qui-Gon knew the small being's temper from
first hand experience and now felt almost sorry for the man.
Almost. The assistant hardly meet Qui-Gon's inquiring stare.
Well, Qui-Gon thought a little meanly, if the prophet refused
to come to the mountain, the mountain would have to come to the
prophet.
"Master Jinn, here are the requested reports. Copies of them to
be precise. They're yours to keep." Karaldim handed him the
items, finally looking up, waiting for a reply.
Take the damn chips and kick him out, a small devil on his left
shoulder told Qui-Gon. Although there wasn't the appropriate
opponent on his other shoulder the Jedi settled for staring the
assistant down, before he let him off the hook.
"Thank you for the pains you've taken on my behalf." Knowing
Yoda that shouldn't be too far from the truth. Still, the
bureaucrat had displayed the stamina to present him with the
information as if everything had gone according to standard
procedure.
Kaldarim left, sparing him any further exchange of polite
remarks. Qui-Gon placed the chips on his desk and went into the
kitchen once more, pouring himself a large mug of tea. He
didn't bother to make a second infusion, he would probably need
the stimulating effect of a strong brew.
Settling down in front of his computer he took a sip and
grimaced at the bitterness. Stimulating or not, that was
disgusting. He set the mug aside and, after confirming that his
Padawan was asleep, inserted the first chip. Show time, he
thought, wondering for a second if cynicism was an emotion
allowed for Jedi. He stared at the screen. The first entry
appeared.
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