Betrayal - Chapter 20Remembrances Laughter echoed in the cabin as Obi-Wan opened the door. His face turned back toward the two trailing him, shaking his head as his Learner and Qui-Gon followed him into the small space. "And then, Atel, he opened his eyes and asked if he was loud enough."
The Padawan snickered at that. "Master Jinn loved to play tricks on you then?"
He just chuckled. "A few times. I remember that particular moment because he had never shown any signs of mischief before." Obi-Wan shot his old Master an exasperated look of affection and the delight of old memories. "He had been pretending all along that he was asleep. Snoring louder than a Krayt Draigon just to impress my friends."
He had been so young, naive and concerned that Qui-Gon didn't want him, didn't like him and certainly thought of him as a nuisance. That moment had taught him just how much his Master cared.
"I couldn't believe that he was making a joke. It took me quite some time before I caught on." He glared at Qui-Gon, and then broke into a smile at the look of false innocence wreathing his Master's face. The low amused rumble told Obi-Wan that Qui-Gon remembered the moment with just as much affection. "And then he called my friend's Master to let her in on the deception. Garen didn't realize until weeks afterward that he had been duped."
"Ah, a trickster of Merit."
"Indeed he was." Sitting down, Obi-Wan pulled out the datapad and began scrolling through it. "And then there was that time with the nerfs and the speeder-bike..."
Smiling broadly, Qui-Gon began to mock-protest, "Padawan, you will have your Learner thinking I did nothing but play practical jokes throughout the whole of your apprenticeship." Turning toward Atel, he spread his hands in surrender. "I did not."
"You may not have overwhelmed me with sheer numbers but there were enough instances..." He gave a brief snort of disbelief. "My friends would often tease me about my stoic, somber Master but I knew better." He leaned toward his Learner, his voice dropping into a mischievous stage whisper. "Don't let him fool you. He has quite a dry wit." A flicker of dancing grey eyes and a fleeting grin. "He taught me well."
"I think, in this case, the Padawan has surpassed the Master." Droll affection laced Qui-Gon's reply.
Another pleased grin. "Never!" And Obi-Wan turned back to his work.
Atel blinked in surprise. The banter between the two was... unexpected, almost silly. Certainly, the teasing spoke of long years together but the intensity startled her. She hadn't remembered her Master ever being this relaxed and she wasn't quite sure how to react. Hesitant, she asked, "Master, what do you want me to do now?"
Her question brought Obi-Wan up short. He had been enjoying the moment, that brief respite of humor and quiet joy that he had so missed in the years since Qui-Gon left. But Atel's query pulled him back to the grinding now, not the bright past but the reality of the situation. Sighing as the laughter leached away into resignation, he nodded to her.
She was right. Time was fast flowing toward Coruscant and there was much still to do.
The Knight lowered his gaze to the datapad, a disquieted frown beginning to cut into his skin. Hard as it was, he realized that he must accept the fact that his old Master was not the innocent in all things. The saber's hard evidence lay in the cabinet beyond; the question of the slaves remained unresolved. And Qui-Gon would not be nearly as cooperative as he had been with the murders. Innocence can be a powerful motive in rooting out the truth.
But there were many truths here.
His glance flicked warily toward the now-impassive Bendu. It might be possible to downplay Qui-Gon's role in the actions of the Bendu group - difficult but possible - if he would be allowed to do so by his Master. However, knowing him as he did, it was quite likely that Qui-Gon would fight him on this. Still, he had to try.
He turned back to his waiting apprentice. "We have a long night ahead of us, Padawan. Now that the murder accusations have proved false, perhaps we can focus on the slavery issue."
She nodded once, serene in the knowledge that she had helped them unravel the more challenging puzzle; this problem should be quickly solved. Busying herself, she started to delve into the records, "I'll pull up all the..."
Jinn's low roughened voice interrupted her, sharp denial slicing the air. "No. Leave it."
Even as he turned toward the impossibly-stubborn man, Obi-Wan felt a swift flush of frustrated anger warming his face. He had hoped that he was wrong this time. But some things in the universe never change. His foolish Master would not accept help, not if it meant that someone else might suffer for it.
Obi-Wan sighed, thinking on how to persuade Qui-Gon, knowing that it was already useless but instead, it was Atel who spoke first.
"What?" The shock in her voice spoke volumes of her confusion. Surely, he couldn't be denying their aid in this, not after all they had been through.
Jinn shouldered the pointed stares with stoic ease. Leaning against the bulwark, arms folded tight across his chest, he deliberately did not meet their eyes. "Leave it alone. I have nothing to say on the matter. Let the Council members think what they want."
Obi-Wan shrugged, resigned to the inevitable. His Master would not change his position on the slavery issue once his mind was made up; he had learned that from long experience. Better just to drop the subject and move on. Rubbing at the tense scowl that had abruptly settled on his face, he turned away and began to pull up files on the laws of lightsaber use.
"And will you be discussing the sabers we found or do we have to leave that subject alone as well?" Obi-Wan tried and failed to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
In other times, he might have objected to the question and the tone with which it had been asked but now Qui-Gon was just relieved. He had thought that his old Padawan would have fought him more on the slave question but it was better for all concerned that it remain unresolved. He would accept the consequences; he had already accepted them. "I use them for training purposes only. Jedi lightsabers in the hands of Bendu would just confuse the people we are trying to help. And it is illegal to use them in public in any case. We are not Jedi, Obi-Wan, and we haven't been for many years."
Obi-Wan shook his head in denial. "You will always be a Jedi, Master."
But as the Bendu looked at him with regret, he said gently, "Not any more."
Another time, another place and his Padawan might have argued with him but not now. "You know that the Council will contend that they are still illegal since you made them without the Order's permission. Why then did you not hide them? They were placed where even a crèche baby could have found them."
All serene submission to his fate tempered Qui-Gon's reply. "Obi-Wan, the sabers were meant to be found. Just as I am meant to be taken to the Temple. It is the will of the Force, my young Jedi Knight."
"The Force asks much of you."
It had been so from the day he entered the Temple and would remain until he passed into the Force. And so he answered, "Always."
With that, Obi-Wan turned off his datapad and began to rise, seemingly done with asking questions. But Atel was concerned. The investigation could not be finished yet; there were still matters to discuss. Exasperated at the surprising turn of events, she protested, "Master, I don't understand. What about the slaves? We can't just let Master Jinn go before the Council without some explanation."
Jinn's sharp retort was flat and uncompromising. "Padawan Sl'etah, I've already stated that I have nothing to say about this issue. Please accept this."
But Atel would have none of it. "You can't be serious."
"Perfectly serious."
His response only made her more confused and a little angry. Staring at him with incredulity, she could not believe that he would ignore the dangers here. "Master Jinn, if we say nothing about the accusation of slave trading, if we say nothing in your defense, then you will certainly be imprisoned, perhaps for years."
Qui-Gon looked away, out into the pulsing light of endless space. His face was impassive, his voice flat. He appeared to be carved from unyielding granite. "There is nothing to say. There is no proof that I deal in slaves. You have nothing concrete, nothing but innuendo. No bills of transportation, no slave papers. No records. Nothing but the accusation of one vengeful man that I had helped send to prison. Not an especially good witness. And I am within my rights to refuse to talk about it."
The Padawan's eyes grew huge as she listened to Jinn speak such foolishness. Shaking her head, she turned and protested to Obi-Wan. "Master, you know him better than I. Can't you do something?"
But her Master said nothing, just stood there apparently deep in thought, all the while frowning at the Bendu. Finally, when the two men continued to remain silent, she just grumbled, "All that work and he will go to prison for a long time if we don't get him to change his mind." Glaring at Jinn, she said, "If I were Master Obi-Wan, I wouldn't take no for an answer."
Her blind faith in his abilities reminded Obi-Wan of just how important this was. His Master must be made to see reason. "I understand that you are trying to protect the runaways but the slave hunters will latch onto this information and find the slave routes just by tracking your old flight records. Surely you must know this."
"Enough, Obi-Wan."
Glacial cold voice and ice blue eyes glared at the Knight but Obi-Wan would not be deterred. "No, it is not enough. Atel is right. You will go to prison for years if we cannot find a way around this. This is not justice, this is..."
"In the eyes of the Republic, it is. Your protests will only give them the fuel to punish you. I will not allow it." The frigid stance melted into heated words as Qui-Gon scowled his opposition. He turned toward his old Padawan, his rough hands clenched in an effort to keep still, when all he wanted to do was shake some sense into the foolish, devoted Knight.
"Allow it? Allow it, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan stalked forward, intent on throttling the misguided fool of a Master. "How I choose to deal with the Council is my affair."
"And this is mine. The answer is no." With that, Qui-Gon deliberately turned back toward the window and stood there, rigid as stone, immovable.
The Jedi let out a deep growl of frustration. "You.... Qui-Gon Jinn, you are the most stubborn man I have ever met."
When the obstinate Bendu ignored him, his broad back a great wall of blue tunic, Obi-Wan huffed in protest. Then the younger man turned away and sat down on the bed, a thoughtful frown crowding his face. He studied his old Master, looking at the long silvered hair, the large fingers half-curled in disquiet, the stern purpose in his stance. Shaking his head, clenching his jaw in worry, Obi-Wan looked down to find the datapad in his hand. And he grew pensive, seeing all and nothing, the silence in discolored tatters, surrounding him like a ragged, ill-fitting cloak.
But Atel would not be quiet. She moved to the porthole and stood there, arms tight across her chest, her eyes flashing deep purple in challenge. And whispered her displeasure at Jinn. "He is only trying to help you."
He looked down at the indignant apprentice, standing there so defensive, so protective of her Master. He sent a fleeting gaze toward a silent Obi-Wan before returning to Atel. "He would do better to help himself. And you."
She pointed out, "He only wants to do what is right."
"I know." Nodding, his voice softened as he accepted the rebuke.
"You are not worthy of him." She glared at him, daring him to disagree.
But he only acknowledged her truth. "I know."
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There was nothing more to be said. The studious avoidance of questions and answers lengthened into greyed silence. Almost tangible, that quiet seemed a shredding shroud - its decayed threads harsh against the mouth, the clouds of dusty disbelief catching at the back of the throat with might-have-beens and why-nots and worry.
Of the three, Obi-Wan seemed the most silent. Atel had tried to engage him in conversation but he would not answer and she finally gave up. Instead, he sat alone on the far bed, legs tangled in meditative pose, somber, looking at no one. Deeply breathing, slate-grey eyes dulled in contemplation, he seemed the very picture of serenity. But it would be a lie. Beneath it all, the doubt and unacknowledged guilt of what the morrow would bring pulled at his heart, no matter how much he would wish it otherwise. Still, he tried over and over again to reach a quiet tranquility within the Force - without success.
Qui-Gon knew that he could do nothing to help his old Padawan - the man had to find his own way clear - and so he continued to stare out the window, deep in thought. Determined to give them the space they needed, to allow them the time to accept what he had already accepted - that he was bound for prison, one way or another - he stood there, stoic and alone, waiting. And tried to defeat his own demons.
But Atel was not so subtle. Tomorrow would bring about many changes for them all but it was the effects on her Master that had her most worried. And it was that worry that kept her glancing at him from beneath lowered lashes.
Amid all the uneasy silence, she had tried to keep busy. But after she finished repairing Obi-Wan's torn tunic and he had still said nothing, she finally had had enough. Sighing, she put away the cloth and gently touched his arm. The slightest edge of exasperation colored her voice, "Master, it's getting late. You've hardly slept in days and you need to rest for tomorrow's Council meeting." He looked at her, weary, his face stretched thin with the mission's concerns, "I know you haven't been meditating. Even a youngling would know that."
He looked as if he were about to protest, but then he glanced at the Bendu for a moment. Nodding once, he said, "You are right, Atel. A fresh start in the morning."
"Perhaps we could spar before breakfast, Master." She suggested, knowing how much he loved the give and take of lightsaber training. "There is a small gymnasium on the lower decks and it has been a while since we've practiced together."
"Very well. And shared meditation might be helpful."
She sent him a brilliant smile, hoping to ease his concern. "I would like that." Atel's eyes flicked toward Jinn. "I'll take the top bunk since I'm the shortest one here." Nodded toward the Bendu, she asked, "Your sleeping clothes are in the pack but we have nothing for him. Master Jinn could use the robe that the ship provided, I suppose."
Qui-Gon spoke up. "Thank you for your concern, Padawan. That will do fine." But when Obi-Wan started to speak, the Bendu held up his hand. "Tomorrow will be soon enough for further discussion. It has been a long day and I would like to get some rest."
The resolute tone in Jinn's voice told the younger man that nothing more would be gleaned by protesting, at least for tonight. With quiet acknowledgement, he merely nodded and turned away.
A quick flurry of preparation and then all was quiet - until well after midnight ship-time.
Obi-Wan woke with a start. It was silent in the cabin except for a soft snore that told him that his Padawan was still sleeping peacefully in the upper bunk. He looked about the room, trying to see what had startled him out of a much-needed rest. A subtle flash of movement by the window and he could see Qui-Gon's face; the random pulse of streaking starlines colored the sharp planes of frown and anxious eyes into chalk and charcoal.
The Bendu was leaning forward, his large hands splayed wide against the walls, pushing, driving forward as though trying to melt through the ship's skin and fly away. The aura of troubled meditation seemed to cloak him in doubt, the Force's usually crystal currents sweeping past in muddied movement.
Obi-Wan could feel the remorse, almost see it. He put his own misgivings aside. Like it or not, he knew that his Master would do what he thought was right, even to the sacrifice of his life if he thought the need great enough. But he also knew that uncertainty crept in with the quiet hours.
Accepting that he could not help but only support his Master in this, he got up silently and padded bare-foot to Qui-Gon's side. Standing there patient and still, he waited for him to achieve peace.
It was a long time coming. Finally, the Bendu drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Drawing upright, he seemed to gather the disciplined calm about him as if it were a protective cloak, shielding him. But he continued to gaze out at the vastness beyond, refusing to meet his Learner's eyes.
"Do you ever wonder why the Force asks so much of us, Obi-Wan?"
"Many times, Master." Then, he stood silent, waiting, giving Qui-Gon the space he needed to question the fast-approaching future and the consequence of choices made.
A heartbeat later, the Bendu murmured, "I do what I feel I must, no matter the cost." A muscle in his jaw ticked once, twice, his spirit's disquiet now apparent in bone and flesh. "But there are times when I wish it were otherwise."
"You would not be human if you had no doubts, Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan sent him a brief smile, one that offered warmth and fond memories to lighten the darkness. "Although I must admit that I thought you so thoroughly sure of yourself when I first became your student. No indecisions, no questions about who you were and your place in the Galaxy or mine."
With a low rumble of amusement and a quick shake of his head at the foibles of youth, Qui-Gon replied, "You were very young then, with your own uncertainties. Believe it or not, I frequently have doubts about my own decisions. My own heart had often led me astray and much of our history together should have taught you that."
Obi-Wan's grin grew wider. "Well, there were times..."
"My poor Learner." Qui-Gon's eyes lit briefly as he remembered their tumultuous past. But then the blue gaze clouded into regret. "Obi-Wan, I don't want to go to Coruscant, not like this - prison and the possibility of never seeing my family again..."
"Master, it's not too late." The hurried response was heartfelt but Qui-Gon just shook his head.
"No... the Force wills that I go to the Temple. I have no doubt of that. But I must admit that I am human enough to fear what lies ahead."
Obi-Wan was startled by the confession. His old Master rarely admitted to weakness and, in the past few hours, he had seemed so sure of the rightness of his actions, accepting the inevitability of it all with measured calm. But perhaps now he might listen to alternatives. "Qui-Gon, if you would only let me help you, the Council might be made to see reason."
The Bendu sighed into regret. "You fight for what you believe is right; I cannot fault you for that."
Turning to face him, Obi-Wan gazed at the weathered face and solemn eyes. "But you will still refuse."
"I know you mean well and a small part of me wishes I could accept." Laying one hand on the Jedi's shoulder, Qui-Gon squeezed slightly, warmth and homecoming in a simple touch, and then he let go. "Obi-Wan, of my own heart, I have many doubts but none about what I must do. Tomorrow, I will face the Council; the Force demands it. But I would prefer that you not be caught up in the inevitable cross-fire. Do not sacrifice your future for our past together."
Nodding in resignation, Obi-Wan said, "I think that Atel would agree with you."
Qui-Gon sent a quick glance toward the sleeping Padawan. "She has made her feelings quite clear."
"Too clear." Annoyance and love intermingled in the assessment of his young protégé.
"She does remind me of a mother sandpanther, fiercely defending her kitling against all danger." A soft chuckle seemed to escape the Bendu. "In a way, it is comforting to know that she cares for you that much." But then the amusement turned to worn regret, "I never wanted you to be alone, Obi-Wan. And you seem to partner well together."
He frowned at that. Concerned about what it might mean, he said, "Usually we do. But her jealousy still worries me."
"Even now, she believes that, in some small way, I am a threat to her. From her point of view, she is probably right." Qui-Gon looked at the gently-sleeping Padawan and nodded once, "But her fear of me will pass soon enough."
"And you will be gone."
"Yes." The emotions of the moment thinned as acceptance settled into his skin. It was time to put away his midnight doubts. There was no longer a place for them.
But, even as Qui-Gon nodded and turned away, the younger man stopped him. There was one burning question that might never be answered if he did not ask it now. And, although it had nothing to do with the investigation, it had a great deal to do with the past and his present.
"Qui-Gon..." Obi-Wan swallowed hard, then said, "Why didn't you ever try to contact me? All those years and not a word."
The Bendu blinked at his question, pained astonishment skittering across his face and settling into his somber eyes. "Padawan, I tried many times. There were never any replies. Until you told me about the punishment you received, I believed that you had decided to take my advice and move on."
"Do you know me so little then?" The frown burrowed deep, and resentment lingered there.
Qui-Gon shook his head in quick denial but then he caught the grey gaze and held it steady. He wanted no mistakes, no confusion about this and his words stressed his absolute conviction, "Obi-Wan, you were my brightest and best pupil, and a friend I missed very much. But you are also a realist. I knew that you would mourn my dismissal but you had a brilliant career ahead of you. If you remember, I was the one that suggested you not contact me and I thought you had decided to honor that. What else could I believe?"
Much as he wanted to deny it, it did make sense. But the resentment still lingered for a moment before muddying into perplexity. "I never received any messages."
"Obi-Wan...." Qui-Gon sighed, shrugging off old pain. "Each time I tried to contact you, I was told that you had accepted delivery and that there was no reply."
"Who told you such a thing?" The frown deepened, cutting into his face with sharpened edges. And the Force seemed to flow, fast and clouded, about the Knight as he realized that the years of denial and guilt had been based on lies - again.
Qui-Gon turned inward, recalling those arduous days long gone, the stoic acceptance of loss and the slow, ugly realization that Obi-Wan had not wanted to see his old Master again. But there was no mistake; he remembered it well. "The chief aide in Supreme Chancellor Palpatine's office. She was handling all of my correspondence for a while as a favor to Queen Amidala."
"Why not send it directly?" He could not understand why there was any need for an intermediary.
But the answer was simple. "Obi-Wan, I had very little money for hand-delivered messages and I was sure that any HoloNet transmissions that I could send would be rejected by the Temple's staff and even they cost more than a few credits this far out. The Supreme Chancellor was grateful for my help in the Battle of Naboo and, as a small token of his esteem as he put it, he arranged for my correspondence to get to Coruscant."
"That's odd." Another problem to ponder but a small thing in the midst of all the rest.
"I agree, but with all the problems I was facing at that moment, I thought it best." He sighed, "Besides, I believed that messages sent through the Chancellor's office might be more likely to be delivered."
"You were probably right. Politics play a large part in the Order now." The frown turned into one of thoughtful contemplation, "Once things have settled down, I'll try and find out what happened." But Obi-Wan still wanted to know why there had been no word in those first few months. It nagged at him, a kind of long-ago frustration and time-worn regret. "Master, when you left the Temple, it was almost as if you had vanished. I contacted friends, went to places I thought you might frequent but nothing. You were just gone..."
Qui-Gon folded his arms about him, phantom cold seeping into his bones as he remembered that bleak past. "I felt that I needed some time alone, far from friends and the hungry eyes of the curious - all eager to find out what had happened. I was... ashamed of my failure."
"Failure? Master, it wasn't your fault." Exasperation colored his voice.
"I know that now but at the time, it was unprecedented. There had never been Jedi dismissed without cause before. And I needed to consider out what I was going to do next."
Obi-Wan pointed out the obvious, "You could have contacted me."
"I did meditate on the possibility." The Bendu looked out into Hyperspace for a moment before gazing back at the grey, questioning eyes. He had wanted to reach out to his Padawan in that dark time. "But I realized that I should not communicate with you - not before the six month deadline. I was being followed, monitored and I did not want to pull you down with me."
"Qui-Gon, that would not have mattered to me."
He sighed at that. "But it did matter... to me. On the day the six months were up, the observations stopped. I sent messages via the Chancellor's office to you, to Dex and to Oddo and Astri and our other friends. But no replies." His mouth flattened at the remembrance of the frustration and helplessness he had felt when communications, even with his old friends, had broken down. "By the time I could afford to send my own messages, they had disappeared and the Temple.... well, let's just say the Temple was less than helpful in that regard."
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed at the changes within the Temple; it had been very different before the dismissals. "We were not allowed to correspond with former Jedi and, by then, I had been punished enough to stop looking...."
Qui-Gon reached out to shake the Knight, to make him understand that all was well between them, even after the hard years of loneliness and regret. "Obi-Wan, you are a brave and honorable man. And withstood more than most. Don't diminish what you have accomplished."
A fleeting acknowledgement of the gentle reproof, and then Obi-Wan let out a snicker, nodding at the irony. "So we are a pair then - the rogue who would protect his former Padawan by not breaking the rules and the rule-bound Jedi who insisted on breaking them."
"It appears that we are well-matched."
"I knew that the first day I met you." Exasperation and the hint of an amused cough brushed the air.
"And now you are a Jedi Knight, as you had always dreamed you would be. I am very glad. But enough for now. It is growing late."
The Bendu began to turn away, back to the bed he had left some time before but Obi-Wan stopped him with a firm hand. "Qui-Gon, before you go. I've missed our training sessions. Spar with me tomorrow."
Qui-Gon smiled, nodding his delight at the suggestion, "Of course. I've missed them, too. We shall see what you have forgotten."
Bright grey-green eyes lightened at the jest. "And what I have learned."
"Yes and what you have learned. I look forward to it."
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Obi-Wan was true to his word. In the early morning, Atel was awakened by a gentle jostle and the seemingly-overloud noise of "Good morning, Padawan." She had tried to turn over, her whole body aching to get just a few more moments of rest when her Master whispered into her ear, "You were snoring again last night."
She sent him a death-glare, "I do not snore." But Obi-Wan's face said otherwise, the cheeky grin pronouncing to all that she did indeed make unsavory sounds in her sleep and everyone in the cabin knew it. She rolled her eyes and growled, "I'm getting up, Master. Just give me a few moments, please."
Rubbing her eyes, she realized that the two men were already dressed and waiting for her. Her Master looked tired, as if he hadn't gotten much sleep and Jinn looked worse, but they seemed more serene somehow. As she shuffled into the refresher to clean up, she hoped that they both had come to terms with what this day would bring. For their sakes, she wished the journey would never end but, for her own, she would be glad to be home at last.
When she was finally ready, her Master informed her that they would be going down to the gym to spar. He had arranged for one of the small rooms to be available for an hour or so, enough time for a brief, intense workout. She was elated to hear that he was willing to spend some of this unsettling day with her, practicing lightsaber drills.
She was less happy to see Obi-Wan pick up Jinn's lightpike along with their sabers on their way out the door. The rules were clear-cut; the Standards for Jedi Behavior were very specific about evidence. No matter whether it pointed to innocence or guilt, it was to remain untouched. It was certainly not to be handled lightly or used in personal activities. But she did not protest. Her Master was aware of the rules and the penalties for violation and she certainly was not going to remind him of something that he already knew. Besides, it would not do to spoil the little time the two men had together. Better to keep quiet for now; it would be over soon enough.
And so a short time later, in the tiny exercise salon, the Jedi began to spar.
Master Jinn sat on the bench at the far side of the room, his face impassive, and watched them with intense concentration. In the few moments between sets, Atel could feel him studying their interactions, listening to the lessons that her Master would impart, and the calm way he corrected her mistakes. Jinn was difficult to read, however. She wasn't sure if he was enjoying the training exercises or thinking of his long-ago times with Master Obi-Wan.
But she was delighted. She had always loved these sessions, the give and take of saber duels and the care that her Master showed in her training. Today was no different. Obi-Wan was focused on the here-and-now as he had not been in many days. And she reveled in it.
It was some time later when Atel, soaked with sweat and breathing heavily, flopped onto the other end of the bench. One of the most grueling saber matches she had fought with her Master in quite a while and, except for a slight amused sparkle in his eyes, he was standing there, patient and unflappable, waiting for her to start again.
"Let me... let me catch my breath." She leaned forward, gulping air for a moment, trying to alleviate her body's desperate need for oxygen. Finally, she waved one hand, indicating defeat. "I admit it, Master. I need to practice more. Dusty files and investigation don't mix well with lightsaber drills." Taking another deep breath, she conceded, "Give me a minute, please."
Looking over at Master Jinn, Obi-Wan nodded back toward the panting Padawan. "Should I? Or do you think she needs a further lesson?" The laughter in his voice was barely contained and he was grinning.
The Bendu looked past him at the frazzled Atel and just shook his head, huffing slightly at the sight. His mouth quirked upward as he reminded Obi-Wan, "An enemy would not allow her any breathing space."
Obi-Wan chuckled, then shifted back to his apprentice and grabbed her hand, pulling her up. "Right then. Padawan, time to show me that you haven't gone soft in the week since we were at the Temple." Grinning, he spun his lightsaber in an infinity loop, and settled into first position. "And that your old Master hasn't gone soft as well."
Still puffing, Atel sent back a tired smile. "Never, Master. I'm sure you fight better than anyone else at the Temple." She tilted her head toward Jinn. "And maybe even better than Bendu Champions."
A low rumble of amusement from Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan mock-glared at him. "Perhaps, said Bendu would like to show my young Padawan how it's done."
"I would be delighted... to show all the young Padawans here how it is done."
Obi-Wan snickered at that. "So certain are you?" And then he gestured toward the lightpike, inviting Qui-Gon to join him.
With a regal nod, Jinn rose to his feet and scooped up the weapon, twisting the long handle a bit, almost as if he were gauging its weight. Then grasping it tightly with both hands, with a slight whisper of the Force and one thumb pressing on a small red circle, he pulled outward. Before their eyes, the pike disengaged - into two lightsaber handles.
The silence in the room was almost palpable. Astonishment, momentary confusion and above all, an itch to try it for themselves, this was indeed a weapon that called for exploration. But there was no time for that now.
Clipping one of the sabers to his belt, Jinn turned the other on, the glowing green blade bright with energy. As he moved to meet Obi-Wan in the center of the salon, Atel stepped backward, out of the way, and sat down.
She was glad for the respite but, more importantly, she was curious to see just how two of the best swordsmen of the age would spar. She didn't have long to wait.
As soon as her Master indicated that he was ready, the Force gave a tiny tremor of warning and then Jinn was on him, attacking with such ferocity that Atel couldn't believe that the match would last more than a few seconds. But Obi-Wan was not to be defeated so easily. He inched away, his lightsaber glowing high then low, meeting the other in a great shower of brilliance. As he neared the wall, he suddenly stepped backward, half-crawling up, using momentum and his ability in the Force to shiver across the surface and down again.
He landed at Jinn's left side. Obviously he knew of the Bendu's weakness; the merest whisper of hesitation in Jinn's swing allowed Obi-Wan to move away. Now, her Master had more room to maneuver and he began to parry swiftly, deflecting all but strongest of thrusts. As he twisted around, Atel could see the absolute concentration in his face, the frown deep-cut, the grey eyes vivid with the reflected glow from the sabers. Another lightening-swift maneuver and it seemed almost as if both men were encased in luminescence, azure and emerald a complex pattern of joy and blinding energy. In her mind's eye too, she could see the Force's currents as it surged and spun around the two men, their use of the living energy fluctuating with need.
It seemed an eternity in the fiery tempest of the saber dance.
Then a tear in the woven light and Obi-Wan was flying over Jinn's head, sword slashing down even as he soared. But the salon's bulkhead was too low for such aerials. Instead of sailing across the air in a graceful arc, he thrust one leg straight up and pushed against the ceiling to increase his speed downward. He tucked abruptly, then hit the floor and rolled away. In the blink of an eye, he was standing upright again and, graceful as a felinoid, his lazersword angled to meet the green blaze of Qui-Gon's saber.
It was Jinn's turn to shift backwards, seemingly on the defensive but really using movements and his own sense of the Force to draw out his opponent and make the younger man reach just a little too far. But Obi-Wan was no longer a Padawan Learner. Experienced with a decade of Knighthood behind him, he had learned to know his own strengths and his weaknesses. He would not be caught unawares, even by his old Master.
Obi-Wan began to grin, the frown long-gone now, as he matched saber movements with Qui-Gon. The thrust and parry of their blades was almost too fast to follow, the brilliance of green and blue making ghosts of light in the air. But it was clear that they were both enjoying the fight; Jinn's half-smile matched his Learner's joy.
Atel could feel the exhilaration pulsing between them. The Force seemed to sing with it. But it also brought her a kind of forlorn regret, almost grief. Master Obi-Wan had never connected like that with her, never shared such intensity in fighting or studying or, frankly, anything. It was almost as if he had hidden something from her, perhaps even from himself, and only now was it coming out as the two men sparred.
It hurt to watch. She looked down abruptly at her small hands, clenched and beginning to ache. She did not remember closing her fists but she opened her fingers deliberately, trying to tamp down the sorrowed emotions. Staring at the skin, so calloused and rough with training. Her Master had helped train those hands, the kindness and patience of a decade of service seen in the flesh.
And now she was filled with regret. She knew that her time with Master Obi-Wan was coming to an end. The whispers of trials and Knighthood had not gone unnoticed but she was not sure she was ready to leave him. They had so much more to accomplish, so much more to talk about, so much more to share.
It might already be too late. Lost moments, lost chances...
With that thought, she looked up again to see her Master sweep out, his leg connecting with the Bendu's. But even as Jinn tumbled gracefully to the floor, he grabbed onto Obi-Wan's tunic, trying to pull him down as well. The Jedi began to fall forward but, at the last moment, he was able to use one leg as leverage and remain half-kneeling. Clearly the victor, he held his blade close to the older man's throat; a wide grin wreathed Obi-Wan's face as he demanded, "Do you yield?"
"Padawan, do you think you've won?" Even though it seemed he had lost the battle, sparkling amusement and a hint of triumph held in the azure eyes of the Bendu.
Obi-Wan let out a sharp snort and shifted his blade closer to Jinn's skin. "Of course. I have my saber at your throat. Could there be any other answer?"
"Look down." Chuckling, he nodded toward Obi-Wan's torso. There, nestled in the stomach of the startled Knight, was the unlit half of the lightpike, its handle clearly seen. Apparently, the match was a draw. They had both lost and... they had both won.
With a great bark of laughter, Obi-Wan turned off his lightsaber and collapsed next to Jinn. "Good match, Master. I haven't had such a saber bout like that since you left. You were always the finest swordsman at the Temple."
"You have done well since I last crossed blades with you." Jinn's brilliant blue eyes were intense with pride and the satisfaction of seeing his Padawan Learner become such an accomplished Jedi.
Obi-Wan's grin made him seem years younger. "Merely practicing what you taught me, Master." With that, he scrambled to his feet, and leaning forward, offered one hand to the Bendu. Even at Jinn grasped it and was pulled up, Obi-Wan's smile grew wider, cheeky and teasing. "And adding a few things of my own since that time."
Qui-Gon just shook his head, "So I see."
With one hand extended, Obi-Wan indicated the gleaming handle still attached to the Bendu's belt. "Your latching mechanism for the pike is quite intriguing. I'd like to try it if I may. And... perhaps get a few lessons of lightpike technique."
"That might be wise, Padawan."
As the two Jedi gathered before him, Jinn pulled off the saber and, with an exaggerated movement, shoved the other half of the pike into a small latch-lock, twisting it. With a subtle snick, the weapon became seamless once more. Placing it gently into Obi-Wan's hands, he reminded him, "Although from what I've seen, you don't need much instruction. Your battle with Anakin proved that."
"It is best to be prepared. And I still have much to learn."
Jinn bowed slightly, acknowledging the wisdom of such caution. There were predators out there, killing former Jedi; experience in this kind of weaponry could help save lives. The past few years had made that very clear.
Pointing toward the center of the lightpike, Qui-Gon began to explain, "Its most vulnerable spot is dead-center and you would be well-advised to try and disable it at that point. Although the pike can split into two sabers, often a hit at its centerpoint can fry some of the circuitry of one or both blades." He nodded toward his old Learner. "You were able to do this quite well with Anakin's pike but, with a more experienced individual, you might have had a great deal of trouble. Most suitably-trained users will try and protect its center, knowing the vulnerability. Caution is key with this weapon. Remember that, Obi-Wan."
Atel stood silently, watching her Master treasure this time together, gathering the memory to hold to him when the Bendu was gone. The connection between the two was palpable, the learned lessons of a lifetime holding true. In the shimmering now of the Force, she could almost see beyond Obi-Wan's worn face and shoulder-length ginger hair to the ghostly image of a waist-length braid - as if he were a Learner once more and she was merely a spirit intruding on the moment. Not even there.... and suddenly she needed to get away, to regain her center.
She began to sidle back, away from the two, hoping to reach the door without notice but Obi-Wan called out, "Padawan, where are you going?"
Before he could protest further, she replied, "Forgive me, Master but I will be right back. I need to use the 'fresher."
He shook his head, sighing at the interruption. "Don't be long, Atel. This may be important."
With a slight bow, she turned away even as the murmur of lessons continued.
"The long handle can get in the way of your swing. Jedi are used to a much smaller device, one that can be pulled around easily with one hand but swiveling something this large sometimes requires two hands. That is a liability, especially if you are being attacked at more than one position. Here..."
With an audible sigh, Atel slid through the door and it closed behind her.
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*Jealousy is not the Jedi way.* She chided her mirrored self, her dark eyes huge in the subdued light of the 'fresher. *This is ridiculous. He is not sending you away or hurting you or being anything but a kind and attentive Master.*
But her flushed face stared back, reflected in the glass above the sink, mocking her unbalance. *So he is focused on his old Master. That is as it should be.*
She leaned down, hiding from her own image, focusing instead on her cramped hands so busy with the flowing tap water. As she began to splash her face with the cool, refreshing liquid, she tried to tamp down on the unwanted emotions. Envy and contempt of her own inability to control it warred with each other.
*Jinn will be gone soon and it will all go back to how it was before this damnable mission.* But she wasn't listening, even to herself.
Frowning, she looked again into the glass. The droplets slid down her skin, looking for all as if they were aching tears, and she let them paint her cheeks for just a moment. *Absurd little Padawan. This is beneath you.*
Still arguing, her jaw hard-clenched, she jerked out a warm towel and patted her face dry, roughly wiping at taut skin. Accusing eyes in the reflection, she frowned frost at the sight, *You should be beyond such foolishness.*
Savagely thrusting the unwanted feelings aside, she drew in a deep breath and then centered herself, gathering calm, standing tall and resolute before the mirror. Breathing in once, twice more, she stared at the reflection with new determination, reminding herself of just what she was and what she must do.
*You are a Jedi. Act like one.*
She pushed out the 'fresher door and moved down the hallway to the salon. Surprisingly, before the windowed door were two individuals, a mother and her 10 year old son, watching the movement within. In the reflections, through the transparasteel, she could see that Jinn and her Master had gotten beyond the lecture and were practicing, the clash of saber and pike a stirring battle of brilliant color.
Atel heard the little boy exclaim, "Mom, it's the Hero of Naboo. Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I read about him in history class. Do you know him, Mom?"
The woman smiled indulgently, "No, Lin. I've never met the man. Are you sure?"
Lin was watching the battle with avid brown eyes. "Yeah, they had a holovid of him with that glowing sword thing. Wizard! Wait til I tell the kids back home. Do you know who that other guy is?"
The mother seemed to be as enthralled with the fight as the child. "I don't think so, Lin. He's not wearing Bendu blue either, so he's probably not from Naboo. I wonder who he is." Then she looked up to see Atel coming towards them.
The Padawan nodded slightly, acknowledging their presence and moved to open the door when the child's voice rang out. "Are you going in there?" When she smiled and whispered "Yes", the little boy's eyes turned wide.
Quickly and with just a touch of awe, he asked, "Do you know him... Master Jinn?"
When she nodded, he was suddenly peppering her with rapid questions. "Are you a Bendu, too? My Dad says that they are really great people. He said that they helped us get rid of those droid invaders during the Great Battle. Were you there?" He demanded to know.
Atel was both charmed by the child and rather appalled by the implications. The Jedi had not known of the invasion; Naboo was too far away and too unimportant to send over-extended Knights to help. "No, I wasn't there. I was too young."
The young one just shrugged and nodded. "Oh, I wasn't even born yet." Then he straightened up, all eagerness to share the information he had about the champions of Naboo. "But I'm going to be a Bendu when I grow up. My Dad says that anyone can join them and help people who need it."
"I believe that anyone can." The Padawan was growing reluctant to discuss this further; her Master would be wondering where she was. And the subject was unsettling, even from this exuberant child.
But, as she moved to open the door once more, the boy said, "My Dad says that you don't have to have special powers. They take anyone. And they help poor people. Not like those stuck-up Jedi."
"Jedi?" Atel stilled, frowning at the words.
Lin's mother tried to hush her son. She could see that this stranger in beige tunics was growing upset with all his chatter. But he ignored her, the excitement pushing him further. "Yeah, my Dad says that the Jedi only help rich people or Senators or people who are powerful. You know, people who can buy them off. My Dad says..."
"Lin'el Baettee, that's quite enough." Sharply said, the words finally stopped his torrent of enthusiastic information. "I'm sure this nice woman doesn't want to hear about what your Dad says."
But the Padawan did want to hear the rest of it. Perhaps, the Council should know about what is spoken among the ordinary people. After all, it was really the citizens of the Republic that fund the Jedi Order and it was the Mandate of the Order to help those in need - never mind that it was the Senate that determined whose need came first. "That's alright. I'm always interested to hear what others have to say about the Jedi."
Carefully, the boy sent a glance in his mother's direction. He would say nothing else if she was upset but, instead, she gave a hesitant nod of approval. "Dad says that the Jedi should watch out because people don't want them around, not if they aren't going to help poor people."
With that, Atel sighed, trying to gently correct the boy. "Jedi help many types of people, including poor ones. Maybe your Dad is mistaken."
But Lin'el would have none of it. Frowning at the idea that his father was not perfect, he grumbled, "My Dad knows everything. He said that the Jedi were like..."
"Lin, enough." The woman was going increasingly uneasy. This was becoming a very bad idea to talk to strangers about things spoken among their own. "My apologies, miss. My son needs to learn to keep quiet about things said at home. I will make sure he doesn't bother you again."
Atel said gently, "He was no bother. But perhaps you might tell your husband that the Jedi help more than just the powerful and rich."
Frowning at the statement, Lin's mother asked, "How would you know?"
"Because I am a Jedi."
The woman turned pale, her brown eyes looking at the Padawan in stunned disbelief and then she stammered something about getting breakfast and began to hustle her son down the hallway. Whining that he wanted to finish watching the Bendu fight the Jedi, he went very reluctantly, dragging his feet along the carpet in protest. But even as they disappeared around the corner, Lin'el's eyes kept darting back toward Atel, curious and accusing. The boy had believed his father's words. And that unsettled Atel more than a hundred politicians' speeches ever could.
She stood there for a moment, trying to calm her thoughts. Finally pushing open the door, she saw that her Master and Jinn had already completed one set of drills and were starting on a second. She sat down on the bench, watching them, saying nothing, thinking nothing. They seemed to be enjoying the work-out.
And all she wanted to do was go home.
She was still silent when the men had completed the saber lessons. Her Master asked if she was ready to practice but she just smiled and shook her head. When he started to insist, there was a quiet knock on the door, interrupting him; apparently, their time was at an end and others wanted to use the salon.
Obi-Wan shrugged his disappointment and gathered up the weapons. As the three began walking towards the cabin, her Master and Jinn talked about saber techniques and uses for different weapons among the Naboo but Atel remained thoughtful, only half-listening.
When they arrived back at their tiny quarters, her Master suggested that they get cleaned up and then go to breakfast in the dining hall. They took turns using the water shower - true luxury on a star cruiser - and Jinn was able to use the sonic cleaner for his only and, by this time, sweaty clothes. While the Bendu was busy, Obi-Wan tried to engage her in conversation but she merely replied, "You should use the time to be with Master Jinn. I'll still be here when the mission is over."
He frowned at that. "Padawan, something is troubling you. What is wrong?"
A thoughtful tightening of the mouth and then she looked away. "Wrong? Nothing, Master. It's just that I will be glad to be back at the Temple and home."
Sighing at the thought of what lay in wait there, he replied, "We will be there soon enough."
But Atel just nodded absently. "Take care of Master Jinn, then. He needs you more than I do at the moment."
"Padawan, I think that you might need..." And then, with perfect timing, the 'fresher door opened and Jinn stepped out. Without a word, she grabbed her tunics and brushed past the Bendu. She did not want to think about the mission or the day's end or anything else. She did not like being so unsettled. She knew she was being childish but she wanted the comfort of home. Home....
When she finally emerged from the 'fresher, Obi-Wan gave her a strange look but did not press her for answers. They were all hungry after the activity in the salon so they had a late breakfast in the main dining room and lingered there, the men talking of inconsequential things and sharing memories of days long gone. Atel listened to the conversation, nodding at all the right places, watching the pair.
Eventually, they were thrown out, and returned to the room to share a quiet meditation. Master Obi-Wan insisted that Jinn show her some of the older methods of connecting with the Living Force through tranquil contemplation; these were no longer taught at the Temple and, while Obi-Wan was not strong in that area, Master Jinn was. The Padawan had hesitated with that. Her last foray into the Force had ended badly and she was not eager to repeat the performance but she was persuaded to try. Thankfully, the darkness and prophetic visions did not reappear.
And, as the day drew to an end and the center of the Republic grew closer, the men's conversation lagged and finally stilled. The Bendu and his old Padawan stood shoulder to shoulder at the window, silent, waiting.
At last, the random lines of Hyperspace faded back into unwinking pinpoints of mere starlight. The ship started to turn slowly, the cruiser a regal lady of the stars gliding downward toward the bejeweled planet. As it skimmed past the dusky horizon on its way to the surface, for a moment, the fading sun's light gilded the room with slow luminescent and painted the men soft gold.
The cabin turned dark once more as the vessel continued to descend. Shuddering in atmospheric protest on its long, slow drift toward the port, the ship's movement reached a crescendo of vibration before gentling into its berth. And then all movement stopped and it was quiet.
They had reached Coruscant. To Chapter 21 |