Master Apprentice Archive A Light to Get Me There Quick search:

Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan

Rating: R for this chapter, NC-17 overall

Notes: Thanks to Helens and David for the beta.

Feedback: Feedback of any sort is welcome, including concrit.

Summary: This is an AU where everything is just a bit turned-around from what we're familiar with. The Republic is a shambles, the Order in ruins, and Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi has been sent on a mission to find all Force-sensitives and bring them to the Temple. When he follows a flicker of Force-energy to a hole-in-the-wall sparring ring on a backwater planet and finds a young man named Qui-Gon Jinn, his life takes an unexpected turn.

Obi-Wan hated these missions. He knew why they were necessary, had even been one of the first to champion the idea to the Council, arguing that the only way to rebuild their ranks was to actively recruit. And of course it wasn't the wealthier, more developed planets that were most likely to have high percentages of untrained Force-sensitives; no, those were the ones where parents dutifully brought their children to the Temple.

Which was why Obi-Wan was here, on the third backwater planet in as many months. Another one whose name - Eires - he'd never even heard a year ago.

The mission had been a success so far; there were eleven children back on the ship, ranging in age from under a year old to seven or eight. Once found, they were no longer Obi-Wan's responsibility; his orders were to hand them over to Master Shar'n and her droid helpers immediately so they could begin their education. The arrangement suited Obi-Wan just fine. The children tugged at him, the Force flowing off and winding in tendrils around his ankles. It made it easier to find Force-sensitives - one reason Obi-Wan had been sent despite everything - but he was always afraid that if he spent too much time with them, one would latch on.

No one he'd found here was all that strong, but no matter how weak, every Force-sensitive must be brought to the Temple. Eires was small, at least. Only two major cities - if you could call them that - which meant they would be out of here within another week at most. With luck he'd be back on Coruscant by the end of the month.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and reached out through the Force to the gaggle of street urchins. Nothing. One of them called out to him as he left, something unintelligible in a native dialect, but Obi-Wan didn't look back.

He kept walking, keeping his mind open, as close to meditation as one could get under these conditions. Hard to tell if the Force was leading him or if it was just his imagination. After a few more twists and turns, he found himself down one of the dirtiest streets he'd come across yet - little more than an alley - and then it was obvious. Bright and demanding, coming from a wretched hole-in-the-wall across to his left.

It was loud inside, and crowded, and if Obi-Wan stood on his toes, he could just barely see what was going on in the center of the room. Two men - no, boys, nearly grown - were sparring, circling around each other looking for an opening. As Obi-Wan used the Force to nudge the men in front of him aside, the taller of the two boys jerked his head, looking straight at Obi-Wan.

And in that split second of distraction, the other boy's fist connected with his jaw and he stumbled backwards, stepping out of the rough circle on the ground.

The crowd roared, not sounding at all pleased, and Obi-Wan guessed that this boy had been the favorite. It didn't matter; his career in sparring was over tonight whether he won or lost.

"Name?" Obi-Wan asked, bringing up a blank form on his datapad.

The boy looked up at him sullenly, coldpack pressed to his swollen jaw. He shifted on the wooden stool and picked at the hem of his shorts. "You made me lose."

"How could I have done that? Name?"

"Jinn," the boy said, and then frowned. "I just felt you. Or something. Like...I don't know. I couldn't not look."

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, jotting down 'highly sensitive?' next to the boy's name. "Just Jinn? That's a surname, isn't it?"

"It's Qui-Gon, but no one calls me that. 's not an easy name to yell in a fight, you know. Gotta get 'em cheering for me." He grinned and Obi-Wan sighed.

"You won't be fighting anymore." Not like that, anyway. "You're coming with me."

"What do you- no. No, I can't." The boy's face fell, and he looked ready to bolt. "I won't."

"You have a special talent," Obi-Wan said, falling into a slightly modified version of the speech usually reserved for the parents of those the Jedi took. "The Republic needs those like you. You will return with me to the Temple and begin your training, and one day you will be a Jedi knight, perhaps even a master."

The boy didn't look convinced.

"It's an honor to be chosen."

"I like it here. I like fighting."

Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair. The boy was coming with him, no question about that, but Obi-Wan would prefer he come willingly. "Have you ever seen one of these?" he asked, holding out his lightsaber.

The boy peered at it. "Wossit, some kind of blaster?"

"Have a look." Obi-Wan tossed it to him and the boy caught it easily. Good reflexes. To be expected; according to the owner of this place, tonight's match was the boy's first loss.

"Here, there's no way to turn it on!"

Eyebrows raised, Obi-Wan held out his hand for the lightsaber. "Are you sure?"

"It's just a fancy looking stick, is all."

Obi-Wan grinned and the blade came to life in his hand. "Still sure?"

"How'd you do that?"

"You'll learn how," Obi-Wan said. "You'll even get your own after a while."

It was easy after that. The boy sat perched on his stool, coldpack lying forgotten on the floor as he examined the lightsaber. He'd found the controls finally, but Obi-Wan wasn't about to tell him it was keyed to his own Force signature. No matter how the boy tried, he'd never be able to bring it to life. It kept him occupied, though, as he answered the rest of Obi-Wan's questions absently. He was sixteen standard years, parents dead for half of that. No close ties.

"Not even the proprietor of this fine establishment?"

"The what?"

"The owner of this," Obi-Wan waved his hand, "...place. I believe he said his name was Zeth. He mentioned something about you living here?"

"Nah," the boy still didn't look up, "he's all right. Took me in when my folks died - Ridian flu, if you're taking notes. Lots of people died, too, not just them."

The epidemic had been noted in the planetary report. It rarely hit children. And where better to find children for the Temple than a planet full of orphans?

"He'll miss the credits I bring in, that's for sure." The boy shrugged. "That's all he's really interested in."

The lack of ties was good; the Temple would be pleased about that. It was his age that was troubling. At sixteen he should be nearing the end of his training, not just beginning. But with the order decimated and the Republic in ruins, they couldn't afford to be choosy.

They didn't stay long on Eires after that, though Obi-Wan's estimate of a week turned out to be optimistic. Still, after ten days of searching and only one more child found - a baby this time, come straight on the heels of a toddler not even out of diapers yet; her parents were only too happy to give her up - Obi-Wan had finally received permission from Master Yoda to return to Coruscant.

The holocom had cut out several times, and when it did work, the signal was full of static. At one point he'd spent a good five minutes talking to a headless Yoda. It was enough to make Obi-Wan look forward to getting home.

Sighing as he entered his quarters, he hung up his cloak and sat down at the tiny desk. The whole ship was tiny and cramped, which hadn't been a problem on the journey out, but now it was tiny and cramped and filled with small children.

Not that Obi-Wan disliked children. They had their place, and that place was somewhere other than wherever he was. Unfortunately on the ship, they were unavoidable; even when he couldn't see them, he could feel them, and it gave him a headache. None of them knew how to shield, of course, and many were too young to learn. Their thoughts and feelings, the turmoil of having been uprooted from their homes, battered at Obi-Wan's nerves and left him feeling exhausted and raw. How anyone could stand to work in the creche was beyond him, if it was like this all the time.

Picking up his stylus, he began filling out the remaining forms detailing the mission. Chances were no one would read the reports, but it was comforting somehow. The Republic was a shambles, the Order in ruins, but bureaucracy, bureaucracy was like a cockroach. It survived anything.

A knock at the door startled him, and when he looked up he was surprised to find several hours had passed. Force, what now?

"Coming," he said, his voice sounding weary to his own ears; he should have meditated before starting in on the forms. Stretching, he pushed himself up and crossed the room - all of a few steps - and he wasn't surprised to see Jinn standing there when the door slid open. Not 'Jinn', he reminded himself, 'the boy'. Don't start giving them names, now, or the next thing you know, you'll be taking a padawan.

He looked nervous, shifting from foot to foot, and he peered curiously over Obi-Wan's shoulder, trying to get a look at his quarters. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Obi-Wan said automatically, stepping back to let the boy in. He gestured towards the bed - the only other seat aside from his chair - and sat back down at his desk. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, no, I...uh..." The boy shrugged and gave Obi-Wan a little half-smile. "I just thought... I mean, it's kinda boring being shut up with a bunch of little kids, you know? So I thought, uh, maybe I could keep you company for a bit."

"You should have the healer take a look at your nose." In fact, Obi-Wan was surprised he hadn't had it seen to already. According to the reports he'd read, the state of medical care on Eires had been wanting even before the plague hit. Something as minor as a broken nose probably didn't even rate a visit to the medic.

"No way!" The boy gasped, hands flying up to cover his face.

"It wouldn't hurt."

"I like it like this," the boy said. He sat up straight, grinning broadly. "It was one of my first fights, and the odds were on the other guy. There was blood all running down my face and they thought I'd lose for sure, but I didn't bat an eye. I just kept fighting." He threw a couple punches to demonstrate, and added, "That's when I really started to get noticed."

Obi-Wan had to admit that it did suit him rather well. He was good looking in a sort of rough-hewn way, all lanky angles and shaggy brown hair, and already taller than Obi-Wan.

"If you're sure." Shrugging, Obi-Wan turned back to his desk, picking up his stylus and tapping the screen for the next form. After a few moments, he frowned and turned around again. He could feel the boy's presence, muted through his shields, and it was only then that he realized he hadn't been feeling it before.

"Were you shielding?"

The shields went up again. Clumsily. And if he paid attention, Obi-Wan could feel past them, but still they were there. The boy looked at him hopefully, and when Obi-Wan said, "Not bad," he was rewarded with a crooked grin.

"Master Shar'n showed me how. She showed some of the kids, too, but I was the only one who could do it."

"Good," Obi-Wan said. "Hopefully you won't be too far behind your age-mates, then."

"You aren't a master, are you?" the boy asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head, snorting. "Hardly. I'm a knight - that's a step below a master - but it's not that long since I was a padawan." It seemed like a lifetime ago, though, and Obi-Wan wondered how it was possible that he wasn't even ten years older than this boy. He felt weary, suddenly, and old.

"Master Shar'n's been telling me about the Jedi. It's not like how I thought at all. I never thought I'd see a Jedi and now I am one. It's pretty cool. Maybe better than being a famous fighter, even. I-" the boy broke off, finally realizing Obi-Wan wasn't paying attention. "I uh…"

"I need to finish up these reports..."

"Oh." The boy sounded disappointed. Felt disappointed, his shields dropping again. "Oh, sure. Didn't mean to bug you."

When he finally left, Obi-Wan propped his elbows on the desk and rubbed his Temples. At least they'd be home soon.

The first night back on Coruscant was enough to remind Obi-Wan why he'd been so eager to get away. Out on some nowhere planet like Eires he didn't have to deal with the cold shoulder from those he'd once called friends. On his way to his rooms he'd passed two knights in the corridor and as he'd approached, they'd fallen silent and looked at each other uneasily. He should have been used to it by now, but it still stung.

It was no better back in his quarters. He may have escaped the stares and whispers of his fellow Jedi, but he couldn't escape the memories that filled the rooms. It was a mistake to come back here; he should have had new quarters prepared, or at the very least seen if his old rooms were still available, the ones he'd kept but never used, preferring to spend his nights in his master's bed.

In the end he slept in the small bedroom that had been his in his first years as a padawan. It had been cleared out years ago when he'd ostensibly moved into his own quarters, but it still felt familiar. And after months on the ship, it even felt spacious.

His sleep was fitful, plagued by dreams, and he awoke several times drenched in sweat, having kicked off the covers. The third time it happened, he was hard, his legs splayed wide and echoes of his master's lips on his body. He jerked off quickly, keeping his mind blank, and then got up and went out on the balcony. He sat naked and cross-legged until he was stiff and chilled to the bone, finally giving up his attempts at meditation as a failure.

By then the sun was coming up. No use trying to get back to sleep now. He'd take a shower, make himself presentable, and give his report to the Council. That ought to keep my mind off things, anyway.

"He's too old."

"Too- but that's not what-" Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Master Windu, I was told to bring back any and all children who showed promise. He's strong, one of the strongest I found, and a quick learner. We need-"

"We don't have the time or the resources to train everyone at their own pace," Mace said. "Or do you think he should be put in classes with children half his age? According to Master Shar'n, he complained daily about the other children."

"Don't try to make it seem as if you're doing this for his sake. What are you going to do with him, then?" Obi-Wan turned to Master Yoda. It was no use arguing with Mace, but the other might still come around. "He's already mastered basic shielding techniques." Well, mastered might be exaggerating a bit, but they didn't need to know that. "He'll catch up quickly."

"Too set in his ways, the boy is," Yoda said. "Know you too well the problems of those raised not in the Temple."

Obi-Wan blanched, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "You can't mean-"

"Unless you're offering to train him yourself, there is nothing we can do with him," Master Billaba interrupted. "And I will state for the record that I do not believe you should be allowed to train a padawan, though I'm sure there are some," she glanced pointedly at Yoda, "who would champion the idea. A position will be found for him on Coruscant; we won't turn him out on the streets, but neither are we prepared to send him back to his home planet."

This isn't right! _You're_ the ones who are set in your ways. Nothing's changed at all, Obi-Wan didn't say. He pressed his lips together, feeling ill. This wasn't about the boy at all, but he was the one who would suffer for it.

"I promised him," Obi-Wan said eventually. "He didn't want to come, but I talked him into it..."

"Decided, the Council has."

It wasn't his problem, Obi-Wan told himself. Yes, he'd brought the boy here with promises of becoming a Jedi. He hadn't been lying. He'd believed it was true. It wasn't his fault.

Anyway, they'd provide for him. Find him a job or something. It all seemed a little vague, but it would work out, surely. And Coruscant was definitely a step up from Eires. Several steps. A whole flight of stairs, even. Whatever the boy's fate, it had to be better than what he'd had.

Obi-Wan should just forget him. The Council had made their decision; they'd take care of it from here on out. He didn't have to find out where the boy was staying, or go explain to him in person.

He didn't, so he really couldn't figure out why he was here, pressing the comm button and saying, "It's Obi-Wan Kenobi. I need to speak with you."

"Obi-, I mean Knight Kenobi," the boy's voice crackled over the speaker. "I didn't- hang on, uh," and then the door slid open and there he stood, wearing crisp, new Jedi tunics and a wide grin.

Bloody hell.

Steeling himself, Obi-Wan said, "May I come in?"

"Of course!" He stepped back to let Obi-Wan in, and as the door slid shut again, he bounced nervously on the balls of his feet and said, "Do you want anything? I mean water or...tea or something? I think that's all I have. It's just- there's not really a real kitchen or anything."

"Water will be fine," Obi-Wan said, more to shut him up than anything. The room was small, not a suite, and aside from the narrow bed there was nowhere else to sit. Perhaps he ought to stand, anyway.

The boy handed him a glass and then stood there awkwardly for a few moments before flopping down on the bed. Obi-Wan leaned against the wall and took a drink, wishing it were something a bit more alcoholic. "I met with the Council today," he said finally. "They er... I'm afraid there's been a bit of miscommunication..."

"Miscommunication? About what?"

"The Council thinks you're too old." There, he'd said it. That wasn't so hard after all. "I was under the misimpression that I was to bring back anyone - any children, I mean - who showed talent, as you certainly do, regardless of age. However, by 'any', they apparently meant any under some unspecified age that's less than sixteen." Obi-Wan couldn't help the bitterness that crept into his tone. It was just like them to pull something like this. He shouldn't have been surprised.

"I don't understand," the boy said. "What do you- are you sending me back, then?"

"Not exactly..."

"You're coming with me," Obi-Wan said, and when the words were out, he felt just as surprised as Qui-Gon looked.

"Coming with you…?" Qui-Gon leaned forward, his excitement palpable. "You mean like, as your padawan?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Get your things. You'll be in my quarters from now on."

"Right." Shooting to his feet, Qui-Gon pulled open a drawer and started grabbing pants and tunics and dumping them on the bed. "Won't take long."

His mind racing, Obi-Wan watched Qui-Gon pack. He just had to convince Yoda, and surely that couldn't be too hard. Mace and the others would abide by Yoda's decision. And how hard could it be to train someone, anyway?

"O- Knight Kenobi?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm ready," Qui-Gon said, hefting his bag. He cocked his head, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. "Should I call you Master?"

Obi-Wan swallowed, mouth dry. "Yeah. I suppose you should."

TBC