Sub Rosa

by Heavysaber



See headers, disclaimers, thanks, summary, etc. in previous part.

Go to previous part (100 Kb).



Qui-Gon downed the mug of tea, gone long cold by now, ignoring the awful taste. It left him a little breathless and he closed his eyes and calmed himself and his breathing. He opened his eyes and his gaze was drawn to the now dark screen. What he had witnessed... he could still see it, and in his ears there were still the echoes of...

The Jedi was grateful for all the lessons in discipline and self-control Yoda had drilled into him. Without his abilities he would be running to the Healers' section this very moment. But he wished he could just act on impulse, not being held in check by his education and his beliefs. It would have been so easy to crack some heads for that. Easy is the way to the Dark Side indeed. Qui-Gon snorted at the thought. Labeling emotions as 'good' or 'bad' was as far from the truth as the illusion that everything evil could be captured in such a simple concept.

He ejected the last chip and made a neat pile out of them. Seven in total. While he was viewing those he had constantly checked with the Force that Obi-Wan hadn't woken. What he had seen had left him, well, helpless and angry, feeling sick to his heart. He could deal with his anger; it was an emotion he could handle. But that left the helplessness that gnawed at him. There was always the possibility of meditation. Maybe that would be the wisest choice.

He picked up the comm-link and established the connection. Good, no automated response this time. Probably Yoda had already retired and...

"Yes?" came the hiss.

"Master, it's..."

"Of course, Padawan." Qui-Gon recognized a fair amount of irritation in his former Master's voice. He must have been asleep.

"Sorry that I woke you but I need to see you."

"Still at the reception I am, Qui-Gon."

"Then why did you activate your comm-link?"

"The reports, receive them you did?" Yoda didn't answer Qui-Gon's question.

"Yes, and watched them too. That's why I'm calling you." A suspicion materialized. "Did you know about their content?"

"Known it I have not. Guessed it I might have."

"I need to show them to you. Can you leave the reception, Master?"

"Over 800 years old I am. Enough reasons for a proper excuse it will provide."

"Please meet me in Master Mon-Ahan's quarters."

"Kill you she will, if her beauty sleep you interrupt," came a cackle over the link.

"Her Padawan is running the 'dead man' technique."

"Meet you there in ten minutes I will, Padawan. Not much expect of me you will, though. The boy... survived it he has." The connection went dead.

Qui-Gon sat back in his chair, putting the comm-link into his pocket. Yes, Obi-Wan had survived. Nonetheless, no one should have the right to harm a child like that. They had left their mark on him, scarred his soul. No wonder Healers and infirmaries scared the Sith out of his apprentice, not after the doubtless traumatic experiences he had had in his early childhood. Qui-Gon felt his fingernails dig painfully into the palms of his hands as he unconsciously clenched them into fists at the thought.

The Jedi put on his cloak, picked up the chips and - after a final check on Obi-Wan - left his quarters. Five minutes later he stood in front of his friend's place and activated the chime.

Emjay opened the door for him and jerked her head, indicating he should enter. In the lounge he found Ruben, standing at the opposite wall. He picked up the young man's calmness and relaxation. He was glad Emjay's apprentice had passed the critical points and was convinced he would end the procedure successfully. The Jedi Master nodded to him and Ruben acknowledged his greeting by closing and re-opening his eyes. Qui-Gon smiled and turned to Emjay. She'd closed the door and now leaned back against it.

"These are the reports," she stated. "And it's worse than you expected.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked, knowing it was.

"You're broadcasting your feelings loud and clear. I would have to be blind, deaf and probably dead not to recognize it. And you might want to check on your shields."

Qui-Gon grimaced and decided to buy some time, not being prepared to tell the story twice. He had to wait for Yoda's arrival. "Your Padawan is doing well."

"Excellent to be precise. He didn't even react to the chime."

"Impressive." He meant it, but his heart wasn't on this subject. Emjay realized it, too.

"Okay, Qui-Gon, let's skip the small-talk. You want me to watch the chips?"

"Yes, you and Yoda. I asked him to join us. He'll be here any minute."

Emjay grinned mischievously. "My house is your house, Qui-Gon."

"I couldn't risk waking Obi-Wan," he justified his decision. For the first time during the whole evening he realized how much he had taken for granted in his desperate attempt to protect and help his Padawan. He had dragged Yoda, head of the Council, out of an important meeting twice. He hadn't bothered to inform Emjay about his plans. Reckless. Without consideration for others or other issues apart from his apprentice's well-being.

"No, of course not. And it's a welcome distraction. The committee's reports are even more boring than the actual thing if that's possible."

Qui-Gon frowned at Emjay's words. "Welcome distraction is hardly the expression I would use to describe... this." He stared at the chips in disgust. He felt Emjay's gaze on him and looked up to face her. "Sorry, Emjay. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Always happy to serve as a punching bag for you." She smiled and pulled him down for a small embrace. Every time she did that Qui-Gon marveled at her strength. And, as usual, he was comforted by the gesture.

The door chimed again and Emjay went to let Yoda inside. Qui-Gon activated the computer in her sleeping chamber and prepared his demonstration. It wouldn't do Ruben any good if he witnessed what was to come, even if he only heard it. In a way, only hearing it would be even worse.

Qui-Gon had already marked the scenes he wanted to show them. He put the record on standstill and joined Emjay and Yoda in the lounge. The small being inspected the stoically standing apprentice and then threw Qui-Gon a look. "Memories this brings back, Qui-Gon?"

"Actually not, my Master. You never bothered to give me that much preparation for the Mejis."

"Need it you did not, Padawan. Waste of time it would have been. Too precious a resource it is." Qui-Gon was confused by the last sentence. Yoda never used such commonplaces without purpose. But right now he had no clue of what was on his former teacher's mind. And Yoda didn't leave him much time to puzzle it out.

"Speaking of waste... wonder how many patches you used on him I do," the old being asked his friend.

"The whole kit, Master Yoda," she answered and Qui-Gon could almost hear her adding, 'What kinda dumb question is this?' quietly in her mind.

"Done it two would have," Yoda chuckled and Qui-Gon nearly groaned as he got the meaning. When Emjay stared at them nonplussed Yoda raised his three-fingered hand and pointed at Ruben's midsection. The apprentice, fully aware of the goings-on reacted, triggering off a ripple of slight strokes. Emjay shot Yoda an accusing glance. Yoda was unimpressed and giggled. Ruben managed to get his control back in a matter of seconds. He really was a fighter.

"Let's leave him alone now. And next time I will choose a more appropriate place for this technique, something more... quiet. Maybe Coruscant's main port at noon." Emjay left them standing and walked into her chamber. They followed her, Yoda still giggling. Emjay fetched another chair and Yoda climbed onto it with surprising agility.

"I've indexed the most... informative places," Qui-Gon said. "I'll watch Ruben." With that he turned to leave.

"No need for that, Qui-Gon. I can easily monitor him from here," Emjay retorted.

"I'm sure you can, Emjay." The next second he was out and closed the door quietly. He didn't need to see the records a second time. He would never forget the images, nor the cries. Especially not the cries.

He sat down on the couch and began tidying the mess on the table in front of him. There was a peculiar assortment of food, drinks and data-chips. What was that? He took the object in his hands. A book. He leafed through it. Fairy-tales. Qui-Gon threw a look in Ruben's direction and smiled. That was just like Emjay. She had passed the time not only with reviewing committee reports. He found a marker near the end and started reading. First silently, then aloud. It was an unfamiliar feeling. At first his tongue tumbled slightly, unaccustomed to the task. But after a while the words came coherently and the sound of his own voice had a calming effect on him. And it shut out what he might hear from Emjay's sleeping chamber. Qui-Gon was so entranced by the reading he nearly missed the opening of the door.

Emjay stood in the doorway, a smile on her face. A smile that didn't reach her eyes. And her voice nearly cracked when she spoke. "I'll stay with Ruben now, Qui-Gon. We're through with the records. Yoda wants to talk with you in private."

He closed the book and put it down on the table. For a short moment he wondered if he would ever learn what became of Nibor and Namtab who wanted to catch the sun. "I thought you would join us."

Her friend never looked at him. "My place is here, Qui-Gon. I need to be with my Padawan." Qui-Gon remembered his own reaction to the records and understood. He squeezed her shoulder shortly and went into the other room.

"Come here, Qui-Gon." When he sat down beside his former Master the small being activated the computer. The first entry again. Qui-Gon rose and was stopped by a harsh command. "Stay you will. Watch it you will." And he obeyed, as he had always done. Former Master? Obviously there was no such thing.

The screen became animated. Black and white images of a small room, bare of any furniture, bare of any decoration. Only a cupboard filled with various bottles and boxes and an examination table could be seen. The door opened and the room filled with cries and screams. Although the computer's volume was set low Qui-Gon wished he could protect his ears from them. But he knew Yoda wouldn't have it. A boy, not older than maybe three or four years was carried into the room, squirming in the arms of a man, dressed in the traditional healer's garb. The man nearly lost his hold on the child who tried to scratch and bite him. The little face was stricken with fear and desperation, wet with tears. The eyes were so prominent in the pale face, standing out huge and dark, capturing the attention of the viewers. Finally the healer called out a command and a second man appeared. His assistant.

The healer handed the boy over to the other man and barked a command. While the assistant held the child the healer went over to the cupboard and prepared several syringes. Another bark and the assistant brought the boy over to the examination table, pinning him down on it with several restraints. All the time the cries never stopped and when the child saw the syringe in the healer's hand his screams became even more desperate. The assistant held the little head down and the healer administered the shot quite brutally. The boy yelped a final time and then went quiet, his breathing frantic and strained. The men waited for the injection to take effect. Minute after minute the squirming lessened. The boy now sobbed and wailed a couple of times, but never screamed again. After about five minutes he just lay there, whimpering and trembling a little.

The healer prepared a second shot and injected the kid. The child didn't even flinch. The assistant removed the restraints, picked up the limp body and left the room, with the boy in his arms.

The setting changed and another room came into view, almost as barren as the first one. There was a bed inside it and the boy sat on it. In a corner, his back pressed against the wall behind him, his knees drawn up to his chin. He just stared ahead, frozen, devoid of any movement. His eyes were still huge and dark, but he didn't cry anymore. It could have been a freeze-frame it it weren't for the counter in the upper right of the screen and the movement of the boy's eye-lids now and then.

Yoda switched off the computer and the screen went blank. Qui-Gon shook his head. "How could they do that to him?"

"Read the accompanying reports you have?"

"Of course I did."

"So?"

"So what? Hyperactivity is hardly an excuse for such a treatment."

"Help him they did, didn't they?" Yoda's voice lacked any emotions.

"What? They didn't help, they... they..." he was at a loss of words.

"Under control they got him. Solved the problem they did."

"But at what cost? Obi-Wan will probably be terrified of infirmaries for the rest of his life. They hurt him, scared him!" Qui-Gon couldn't believe Yoda's reaction. He stood and started to pace the room.

"And cured him." Qui-Gon faced his former Master and Yoda continued. "Survived he has. Feel fine now he does. Change the past you cannot. Only take care of the present you can."

"What about those methods? Do they still use them? Did you know?"

Yoda sighed. "Interfere with the Healers I cannot. I will not. Perfection hard to come by it is. Best intentions is all we have."

"But..."

"No buts, Qui-Gon. Ever wondered you did what think about us the Healers might? The Jedi, not perfect they are either. Taking children from their family, training them to kill, punishing them, pushing them to the edge and beyond, cruel that may appear, too."

"If you don't want to help Obi-Wan why did you come here in the first place?" Qui-Gon said a little louder that necessary to the other Master.

"Understand you don't. Listen you didn't. To help Obi-Wan I need not. Your problem he is now. You are mine."

"I don't understand."

To Qui-Gon's disbelief Yoda grinned. "Say that I did. The problem, lie with you it does. Still you try to save the world. Accept that limitations you have, you must."

Qui-Gon just wanted to get out of this room. But he couldn't run away. He had to face what Yoda had confronted him with. He calmed his breathing and sat down again. He freed his mind of his agitation and all the questions tormenting him. Slowly he let Yoda's words sink in.

"Good. Good. Fight too many battles and lose the war you will. Taking care of Obi-Wan is your concern." He nodded to the screen. "That boy... Obi-Wan no longer is. Futile your anger is."

The tall Jedi hid his face in his hands. "I brought him to the Healer a few weeks ago. For the standard vaccination. He didn't like it and I thought it was pure obstinacy. He did well after all. But now... it seems to be sheer luck that he didn't go berserk. If I had only known then..."

"Discovering the truth you are. Guilt never a good advisor it is. Know about it you didn't. Not a few weeks ago, nor ten years."

"How do you know..." He interrupted himself. "You know me too well, Master. I should have known for years. Those children are strong in the Force. I should have picked up their stress."

"Shielding prominent for the Healers it is. Change their ways you cannot. As changing ours they cannot."

"And Obi-Wan?"

"His Master you are. A way you will find. The Force it will help you." Yoda laid a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "Return to him now you will."

Qui-Gon nodded. He collected the chips and ejected the one still inserted in the computer, and stowed them away into one of his pockets. "Good night, Master. And thank you for dressing me down," he said, subdued.

"Good night, Padawan." Qui-Gon felt Yoda's eyes on his back. Yes, a part of him would ever be Yoda's Padawan. And he was sure it wasn't the worst part of him.

Outside in the lounge he found Emjay, reading out loud for her apprentice. She stopped when he entered. "Thank you, Emjay." She smiled, and he felt that she had regained her control, too. "By the way, did they catch the sun?"

"No, they died in the attempt. But they left their mark on their home-world. Nibor and Namtab are regarded as heroes by their people."

"I must borrow this book sometime. I think Obi-Wan would like the tale."

"I'm sure he will, Qui-Gon. Good night." With a final nod to Emjay he left his friend's quarters. It would be perfect if Obi-Wan chose her as his Guardian. Well, maybe not perfect, but most certainly the next best thing.


On his way home Qui-Gon considered the pros and cons of telling Obi-Wan what had happened in his early childhood. The Jedi Master was sure that his apprentice's fear of Healers, infirmaries, and such sprang from those dreadful experiences. Even though he couldn't remember it, the Healers had all but abused him. Qui-Gon had just seen a small boy - more of an infant, actually - who panicked whenever someone in Healer clothes came in sight, and who practically screamed in agony when a hypo was even in the same room with him. On the few datachips in Qui-Gon's possession thirteen different incidents underlined this fact.

Qui-Gon's chest tightened and his stomach cramped when he thought about the possibility that there was another child treated like this right now. Treated without compassion, hurt without a word of comfort, and - at least in Obi-Wan's case - never a creche Master at his side who tried to give mental support via the Force. True, a child this age probably couldn't comprehend why it was pained, but a few calming words and a reassuring hand holding small and cold fingers wouldn't have hurt, would they? But Yoda was right; confronted with this accusation all the Healers would say was that a child this age also couldn't comprehend why it was ripped out of its cradle and the loved familiarity known as parents and home.

Sighing, the Jedi Master realized that all this wouldn't help him in making his decision whether to make Obi-Wan understand why he felt that subconscious angst or not. He silently entered his quarters to avoid waking his Padawan who was, thank the Force, still fast asleep. Qui-Gon immediately decided against waking him now to inform him just to ease his own aching heart. Tomorrow was definitely early enough, if at all. And even if I am going to tell him, Qui-Gon thought, there's no way he's going to see these records. Qui-Gon thought about checking on Obi-Wan but didn't want to risk waking him so he just gathered the Force once more and ascertained that his apprentice slept deep and dreamless for the moment. Satisfied, he took off his boots and cloak and settled down in his usual kneeling posture on the mat for a calming meditation, but after an hour of vain attempts to meditate, his mind still wasn't any more peaceful and the Jedi Master fancied, brushing his teeth, that this was going to be a long, restless night. He had been mistaken; he was asleep as soon as his head had touched his pillow.


When Qui-Gon knocked firmly on his apprentice's door the next morning before taking a shower, he welcomed the feeling that everything was back to normal. The feeling intensified when a drowsy Obi-Wan appeared from his room, murmured something unintelligible, which Qui-Gon always had optimistically identified as some sort of a morning greeting, and helped his Master preparing breakfast. As usual, the pair succeeded in keeping absolute silence until after breakfast.

"Obi-Wan, I wish you to work on the role kata I acquainted you with the day before yesterday alone this afternoon. On both the light and the shadow part."

His Padawan looked a little disappointed but tried to hide it. "Yes, Master. Will we have lunch together?" He was sorting through his datapads in his quest to connect the correct datapads with the classes they belonged to.

"I'm afraid not. Chancellor Ko'al bade Master Windu and me to witness the opening ceremony of this new Riding the Waves of Culture museum on Coruscant's second moon. But I trust this will be over in the late afternoon so our dinner with Master Mon-Ahan and Ruben is in no danger of being postponed again." Ready to leave for his first class, Obi-Wan looked at his Master a little uncertainly and Qui-Gon saw the unspoken question in his student's eyes. "Don't worry, Padawan. We'll have all the time we need to get this done," Qui-Gon tried to encourage him but his voice didn't have nearly the gentle tone he had intended to use. Accordingly, Obi-Wan didn't look in the least convinced, but bowed his respects and left. Great, Qui-Gon scolded himself, I should found a new class myself. Titled: How to effectively put off an important decision or conversation.


Almost time to go. Qui-Gon checked his appearance in the mirror again, looking for stains and tears in his tunic that miraculously materialized every time shortly before he had to attend important social occasions. No, not this time. With a sigh of relief he put on his cloak. Mace Windu hated waiting and had already called twice to make sure he would be on time.

Just the moment he wanted to leave his comm-link beeped. He shouldn't be surprised. He had already been spared changing his tunic. The infamous last-minute-call had been obligatory and unavoidable.

"Jinn," he snarled into the device. Yes, that definitely was the right tone. That should discourage the caller enough.

"I just love your voice when you're angry, dear." Qui-Gon buried his hopes of ending this soon. Emjay would be unimpressed by any of his tactics. "What is it? Your usual morning blues? Just to let you know, it's already almost noon."

Qui-Gon bit back the chuckle that threatened to escape his throat. "Mace is expecting me at the shuttle hangar. We are to attend ---"

"--- that culture thing?" Her laughter came over the connection rather loudly. "How did that old fox get you into this? He asked me two weeks ago to accompany him and I plainly refused. I had already wondered why he let me off the hook so easily."

"Mace didn't ask me. It was a request by the Chancellor himself."

"And who do you think told the Chancellor to ask you in the first place?" Another fit of laughter shook his friend. "Sorry, Qui-Gon, I didn't mean to ---"

He cut her short. "Of course you did, Emjay. I have to leave now."

"So who's hindering you? As far as I know talking and walking don't use the same parts of the anatomy. That's valid as far as our species is concerned. Although I recall meeting a Pendalar and they actually walk on their mouths. Looked rather peculiar. So if you ever need a silent hiking companion ---"

Again he interrupted her, following her advice and already making his way to the elevators. "Emjay, please, why did you call?"

"Ah, yes, my Padawan needs to know when you'll be here for dinner. He's going on and on about the perfect timing for something he calls a 'Rising Moon'. Whatever that might be."

"It's a souffle."

"Whatever. So, when can you get here?"

"Not before six."

He heard Emjay calling out to her apprentice. "Ruben says, he needs the exact time."

"Tell him seven will be fine for us." Again Emjay transferred that vital information to Ruben. Qui-Gon entered the elevator and punched in the destination.

"Okay, seven it is. See you tonight, Qui-Gon. And greetings to your lovely wife. Oh sorry, wrong holo-novel. Greetings to Obi-Wan."

"I won't see him before this afternoon, Emjay. And wait a second. How's Ruben?"

"He came out of the 'dead man' technique alive and kicking this morning. Now, that sounds strange. By the way, the next time you leave Yoda in my quarters tell me how to get rid of him efficiently. Somehow he ended up in my kitchen and stuffing food into himself, muttering that he'd had missed the reception's dinner because of you and he needed what he called a tiny snack. A tiny snack indeed, half my kitchen is pillaged. How can such a little being devour such quantities of food?"

"Emjay, I'm at the hangar now, sorry. We can talk tonight."

"Give Mace my compliments. Have fun." The connection was terminated. Qui-Gon stepped out of the car and he checked the time. Well, he needn't have worried. Two minutes before the appointed hour. Nonetheless, Mace was already waiting for him.

"Greetings, Qui-Gon. You are on time." Qui-Gon grimaced slightly. Why did he have to sound so surprised?

"Mace." He nodded to the fellow Master. The two men entered the waiting shuttle. Qui-Gon sat back in his seat, closing his eyes. He smiled, remembering his peculiar conversation with Emjay. Remarkable how well he fared with her, especially compared with the rather icy relationship between him and Mace Windu. He could respect the man for his skills and his achievements. But apart from that... He tried to imagine Mace talking about Yoda the way Emjay did. Impossible.

Qui-Gon grinned. What had she said about his former Master? How can such a little being devour such quantities of food? Not three weeks ago he had thought almost the same...



Qui-Gon had just settled himself down on the meditation mat in the living area of his quarters when Obi-Wan burst into the room like he was running for cover from an infuriated Mace Windu. He stopped dead when he realized his Master was meditating. He bowed suggestively and greeted his Master. "Good afternoon, Master. I'm sorry for disturbing you." Qui-Gon nodded shortly and raised a questioning eyebrow at his apprentice. If he wasn't completely mistaken, Obi-Wan's 'I'm sorry for disturbing you' had had a slight edge to it.

"Good afternoon, Padawan. If I recall correctly you had planned to spend some time with some of your friends?"

Obi-Wan headed for the kitchen while he answered. "Yes, but I'd forgotten that they were going to the fair in the upper Jirtu quarter." He poured himself a glass of juice. "Do you mind if I go to my room now? I'd like to study for the temporal mechanics exam next week instead." Obi-Wan obviously tried to sound nonchalant but Qui-Gon didn't miss his apprentice's strained tone. He was already on his way to his room when Qui-Gon's words stopped him.

"Obi-Wan, why didn't you ask for permission to go with them? Since you would have been in the company of other Padawans I probably would have let you go."

Obi-Wan made a sound that might have been a snort suppressed at the last moment. "You know, Master, it's sort of no fun going to a fair without so much as one credit." And this time his words definitely had an edge to them. His Padawan turned and walked into his room without waiting for an answer from his Master. Qui-Gon considered for a moment going after him and giving him a lecture about proper behavior towards his Master but decided against it after a few moments. He could feel his Padawans mental uproar and reminded himself that he had provoked such an outburst by not giving him any allowance. He sighed inwardly and concentrated on his meditations again.


Two hours later Qui-Gon finally decided to talk to his apprentice about this particular matter. Obi-Wan hadn't come out of his room since the incident. Qui-Gon rose from the mat and knocked on his Padawan's door. At first, there was no answer to his knocking and Qui-Gon wondered if his Padawan might have fallen asleep over his studies. He was about to reach out with the Force to check when he heard Obi-Wan's: "Yes?" The Jedi Master opened the door and took in the sight of his Padawan, lying on his bed on his stomach, surrounded by books and datapads. The tendency of young people to learn, read and write on their beds was still a mystery to him. What did they think a desk was made for?

"May I come in, Padawan? I'd like to talk to you about something." Qui-Gon kept his voice deliberately neutral.

"Of course, Master." The edge was gone from his voice but he still sounded a little unsure. Was he afraid his Master would punish him for his inappropriate behavior earlier? In the meantime Obi-Wan brought himself to a sitting position and moved some of the stuff on his bed to make room for his Master to sit down. Again Qui-Gon asked himself if youths knew what one could use a chair for except putting clothes over it. Nevertheless he seated himself next to Obi-Wan on his bed.

"Obi-Wan, about our discussion earlier..." he started but his apprentice interrupted him.

"I know, Master. My behavior was uncalled for. I'm sorry. It will never happen again. It's not my place to ---" He was stopped by Qui-Gon's upraised hand.

"That's not what I wanted to talk to you about, Padawan. Besides, we talked about your temper before, didn't we?" he continued after Obi-Wan's humble nod. "Would you have liked to go to that fair?" Another nod. "Then why didn't you ask for credits and permission to join your fellow Padawans?"

"I thought you wouldn't give me money for a fair anyway." Obi-Wan held his eyes down, avoiding the intense stare of his Master.

"What made you think that?"

Obi-Wan's temper kicked in a bit again and his voice was a little louder than strictly necessary. "You said so yourself! You said I would only get allowance for things I need." In spite of his tone Obi-Wan still didn't dare to look up.

"Padawan!" Qui-Gon replied in a warning tone. A second later he continued in a normal voice: "But even a Jedi needs some recreation from time to time, Obi-Wan. You should have asked." Qui-Gon exhaled audibly and got up from the bed. "I thought about having dinner out today, Padawan. Would you care to join me?"

Qui-Gon had to suppress a smile when Obi-Wan's head shot up and his eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "You mean that?" But Obi-Wan answered his question himself. "Yes, I would like that very much, Master."

"Very well then. Shower, put on a fresh tunic and then we're ready to go." Without waiting for an answer from his apprentice, the Jedi Master turned and left the room with long, swift strides.


Half an hour later the pair left their quarters to wait for an airbus on one of the platforms surrounding the Jedi Temple. Obi-Wan walked on his Master's left side, always one pace behind as befitted an apprentice. On their way to the platform they met a couple of other Jedi, among them Master Emjay Mon-Ahan and her Padawan Ruben Gotz. They saw them coming from a way off and they finally met in the middle of a long corridor leading to the gates.

"Qui-Gon! Tell me what I wanna hear! My impertinent Padawan needs a lesson." Emjay called. She swiftly grabbed a handful of sugar-covered-almonds from a cone said Padawan was holding in his hand. He tried to pull the cone away but wasn't fast enough.

"Hey!" Ruben exclaimed. "These are my almonds! Get your own!" Though he was only sixteen, he already towered over Emjay, a relatively small woman.

"Okay!" Emjay replied, munching on the almonds. "I won't eat anymore of your almonds and yesterday was the last time you used my Uhiray bathing-oil."

"That's not fair!" Ruben protested but wasn't quite able to keep the smirk from his face.

Before Master Mon-Ahan had a chance to retort something like: 'Life's seldom fair' Qui-Gon interrupted their dispute. "What would you like to hear, Emjay?" The male Jedi Master was smiling, too. Emjay and Ruben were having another one of their verbal confrontations.

Master Mon-Ahan was chewing on some more almonds and so Ruben answered Qui-Gon's question in her place. "When we saw you heading for the gate to the airbus, my Master and I made a little bet as to whether you were going to the fair or not." Ruben ate some of his almonds before they were out.

"So give," Emjay added, running another attack at Ruben's cone.

Qui-Gon feigned a desperate sigh. These two were absolutely fabulous. Trust Emjay Mon-Ahan to bring some humor into the most boring of situations. And her Padawan wasn't exactly slowing her down. "We are going to have dinner. In the Terminol-section, I thought. Does that satisfy ---" 'your curiosity, Emjay' he had wanted to say but was interrupted by Master Mon-Ahan's cursing and a triumphant laugh from Ruben.

"Thank you, Master Jinn! You just rescued me from two weeks of laundry-duty." Ruben and Emjay slowly resumed their steps along the corridor and so did Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. Still, they could follow Emjay's and Ruben's discussion for a while longer.

"Only over my dead body, Ruben. No chance I will do the laundry alone for two weeks!"

"The wager was your idea, Master, and I believe just a minute ago you were about to make a remark as to the fairness of life?"

"I really should discipline you more often, Ruben."

"Whatever you say, Master. Would you like another almond?" Ruben's remark was followed by a slapping sound. Probably Emjay's hand on his posterior.

Despite himself, Qui-Gon just had to laugh softly. Those two were absolutely hopeless. When they had reached the platform Obi-Wan could no longer hold onto his curiosity. "Those two are Master and Padawan?"

Qui-Gon looked down at his young apprentice while they were waiting for the bus to arrive. "Yes, they are. A quite successful pair, I might add."

The youth's eyes expressed pure disbelief. "But... But the way he talks to Master Mon-Ahan!"

"I know what it looks like, Padawan. But believe me when I say he has the utmost respect for her. It's just her way of training and educating him. Remember what I told you, Obi-Wan. No two Master-Padawan bonds are alike."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered and a minute later the bus arrived to take them to the Terminol-section.


Qui-Gon had picked a nice little restaurant on the top of one of the higher buildings in the Terminol-section. He had been here before and though the waiters didn't know him he was recognized as Jedi and they were given a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant with a spectacular view over the skyline. Qui-Gon smiled to himself. Sometimes being a Jedi definitely had its advantages. The Jedi Master knew that many Jedi came here to eat on a regular basis.

Obi-Wan was looking around curiously, taking in as much as he could. The Jedi Master knew from first hand experience that the Initiates had only very rare opportunities to leave the Temple, and so the young Padawans couldn't wait to get out of it. And this was the first time Qui-Gon had left the Temple together with his new apprentice and thus a very special occasion not only for him but especially for the boy. Obi-Wan was broadcasting his excitement quite strongly but Qui-Gon decided against reprimanding him for it. The excitement would lessen automatically when he got out of the Temple more often.

A waitress brought the menu cards and asked if they had already decided on something to drink. Qui-Gon answered in the negative. She smiled and left.

"What should I drink, Master?" Obi-Wan looked over the huge variety of available beverages, he had undoubtedly never heard of three quarters of them and actually tasted even less.

"As long as there is no alcohol in it, Padawan, you can drink whatever you like. Same goes for your choice of food." Obi-Wan didn't look one bit happier than before his question. Qui-Gon chuckled softly. This really must be quite the experience for his young apprentice. Obi-Wan asked him a couple of times what something was and the Jedi Master answered to the best of his knowledge. Finally Qui-Gon gestured the waitress that they were ready to place their orders. She congratulated them on their choices and disappeared towards the kitchen.

Obi-Wan was awfully quiet, Qui-Gon noticed. "Something wrong, Padawan?"

"No, Master, not at all. On the contrary. I'm really enjoying this." And after a moment, he added: "Thanks for taking me." The Master could see that he meant it.

"We will have a lot of opportunities to dine together in the future, my young Padawan. You can be certain of that." Obi-Wan only nodded in response and then continued to stare out the window or watch the waiters and waitresses bustling around in the restaurant.

Qui-Gon would have liked a conversation but for the moment he couldn't think of one thing to say to his apprentice and so he stayed silent. Shortly after their dinner had arrived the Jedi Master could suddenly feel a very familiar Force matrix and he smiled.

"What is it, Master?" his apprentice wanted to know, showing he hadn't missed his teacher's smile.

"Master Yoda is here, Obi-Wan."

"What? Where?" The young Padawan immediately straightened up and looked nervously - almost fearfully - around. Qui-Gon laughed softly.

"Not here in this room, Obi-Wan. But he is close by," he informed his student.

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly. "How do you know?"

"I told you about the special bond between Master and Padawan, right?" At Obi-Wan's nod he continued, "Well, Yoda is my former Master. Our bond's still quite strong so - for example - I can sense when he's around."

"So he knows that we're here as well?"

Qui-Gon thought about that for a moment. "He knows for sure that I am here. As to you, he will suspect it, but I don't think he knows your matrix so well yet." Qui-Gon was glad to answer Obi-Wan's questions. He very much appreciated his eagerness for knowledge. He intended to do everything to encourage this.

"Did he sense you earlier than you did him, Master?" Between his questions Obi-Wan managed somehow to eat his dinner.

"Not much earlier, no."

"But he has the highest midi-chlorian count of all Jedi."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that he's in every way superior to all the other Jedi. For example, picking up a familiar Force matrix is very much about feeling the living Force around you. And in this special art Master Yoda and I are almost equally skilled."

Obi-Wan nodded and thought about that for a moment, which gave Qui-Gon the chance to eat some bites before his apprentice's questioning continued. "Did Master Yoda want you to know that he is here?"

The Jedi Master swallowed and took a sip of the light wine he had ordered for himself. "If he hadn't wanted anyone to feel his presence, he would have shielded himself. As would I if I had wanted not to be recognized."

"Can you tell exactly where he is?"

"No," Qui-Gon laughed softly again. "Only that he's near by. Probably even in this building."

"And can you tell what he's doing?"

Qui-Gon shook his head again. "No, only what he's feeling; and that only as long as he wants me to know."

Obi-Wan had almost finished his dinner by now. "And may I ask what he's feeling right now?"

"You may ask anything, Obi-Wan, like I told you before. To answer your question: I could reach out with the Force now, mentally touch Yoda and find out what he's feeling. But this would be a violation of his privacy. It's against the Code to do so without a very good reason." Qui-Gon, too, was finished with his dinner now. "But there are occasions where a Jedi involuntarily sends his feelings through the bond. For instance: Imagine I'm very sad about something and fail to raise my shields accordingly. Then Master Yoda would pick up on my distress and probably contact me immediately, wanting to know what's wrong." He smiled at this thought.

"And vice-versa?"

Qui-Gon chuckled again. "Theoretically, yes. But Master Yoda's shields are usually always appropriately raised. He only sends emotions and thoughts if he wants to."

"Thoughts? You mean, you and Master Yoda can actually communicate via your bond?"

"Yes and no. Yoda and I both can send and receive any kind of emotion. Reassurance, sympathy, humor. Things like that. But you can't think of it as a real conversation. We are also able to send pictures, but those are usually very vague and blurry. For example, I could contact Master Yoda now and ask him if he would like to join us. It's just that I wouldn't actually ask him. This is really hard to explain, Obi-Wan. You will understand all this better when our bond has strengthened." He paused when the waitress came again to gather their plates and brought them the dessert cards instead.

Obi-Wan lifted a questioning eyebrow, a gesture he had already picked up from his Master. As Master, as Padawan, Qui-Gon thought in amusement. "If you would like a dessert, Obi-Wan, feel free to choose whatever you like." And after a moment. "Do you want me to?"

"Master?"

"Contact Yoda." Obi-Wan instantly went pale again and the Master added quickly, "He won't bite you, Obi-Wan. He's just another Jedi who happens to have been my Master."

"Who happens to be the head of the Council, also," his Padawan exclaimed and Qui-Gon once more had to laugh about his apprentice's words. And then Obi-Wan surprised him. "You would like him to be here, wouldn't you?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, Obi-Wan, I would."

"Do you promise not to discuss my training while we're here?"

This made the older Jedi laugh heartily. He nodded and then reached out to his former Master who seemed to have only been waiting for an invitation. He sent confirmation toward his former student. "He's on his way. He'd waited for that since he first sensed my presence."

The boy nodded, very serious all of a sudden. "Do you like to have Master Yoda around?" he wanted to know.

"Sometimes more, sometimes less, to tell the truth, Padawan. Master Yoda and I had some tough times together in which we apparently couldn't agree on one single thing."

"I hope this won't be the case with us, Master. And I hope our bond will become as strong as the one you have with Master Yoda."

"So do I, Padawan, so do I." He wanted to add something but Yoda chose this moment to enter the restaurant and he decided to delay this particular serious discussion. Instead he gathered a third chair from the table next to theirs. Obi-Wan moved to get up but Qui-Gon gestured to him to stay seated. They were not in the Council chamber, after all. And not even in the Temple, for that matter.

"Good evening, my Master," Qui-Gon greeted the small Jedi.

"Good evening, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan added quickly which earned him a 'just relax' look from Qui-Gon.

"Good evening," snorted the green being now. "What good should there be on an evening where a poor old Jedi Master has to wait nearly an eternity until he's invited to dinner table of his former Padawan?" Yoda settled down on the additional chair Qui-Gon had provided and without a word of gratitude took the dessert card Qui-Gon offered him smiling.

"Obi-Wan and I were in the middle of an important discussion when I first noticed your presence, Master. Besides, you could have come up without an invitation."

The only response to his words was a snorted grunt from behind the dessert card which Yoda was checking out thoroughly. Qui-Gon felt a wave of distress from his Padawan. He didn't think Obi-Wan had sent it deliberately for he hadn't yet tried sending emotions through their bond. Nevertheless, Qui-Gon sent a wave of calmness and reassurance back. There was no need for Obi-Wan to be nervous.

Then, finally, the old Jedi Master laid his dessert card aside. "Chosen, have you?" he asked Qui-Gon.

"I won't have a dessert, my Master. Only some tea." After another disparaging snort, Yoda turned to Obi-Wan and asked him the same question.

"I haven't made up my mind yet, Master Yoda. I don't know most of the desserts offered." Despite his nervousness Obi-Wan's voice was firm and steady.

"Choose for you, then let me, young Kenobi," Yoda replied and gestured to the waitress.

Qui-Gon winced slightly when Yoda ordered a double portion of hot chocolate pudding with fruits for his apprentice and a huge variety of different ice-cream flavors for himself. Don't argue with your former Master when your apprentice is present, Qui-Gon reminded himself. Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to eat all this, anyway. Yoda leaned back in his chair, studying his former student. "Decided, have you, which categories you will compete in at this year's Bhavani?" Qui-Gon suppressed a sigh. Had he really have had any doubts Yoda would bring this topic up?

"Actually, I was planning not to compete at all. There's the high possibility that I won't be on the planet during the Bhavani, after all." It was a lame excuse and Qui-Gon knew it as soon as it had left his mouth. And so did Yoda.

"Worry about that, I would not, my Padawan. Make sure you'll be here, I will. Deny your new Padawan the chance to see you in the Bhavani-competitions you cannot."

Before Qui-Gon could answer, the waitress returned with their desserts. Qui-Gon wondered for the thousandth time how many stomachs this little green being next to him had. With amusement Qui-Gon observed how Obi-Wan's eyes went wide at the sight of the huge bowl filled with steaming chocolate pudding, sweet fruits swimming around in it.

"Subscribed you already to the single kata competition I have. Running a very high bet that defend your title you will, I am," Yoda remarked lightly after he had eliminated two of the ice-cream balls. Qui-Gon choked on his tea, covering his mouth with the back of his right hand. His former Master simply must have been kidding!

Obviously undisturbed by Qui-Gon's reaction, Yoda reached for the boy's bowl. "Trade, we will. A long time it has been since I tasted this specialty." The human Master only shrugged when Obi-Wan shot him a look. There was no way to oppose Yoda's wishes. A lesson he had learned long ago. Nonetheless, he was determined not to let Yoda's plans for the Bhavani, or to be more precise, his own role in them, go uncommented on.

"You subscribed me to the single katas?" Qui-Gon said, a little irritated. "If I recall correctly it needs my signature to do that."

"Your Master I am, Qui-Gon. So subscribe you I can." While Yoda fished in the pudding for the best fruits, Obi-Wan silently enjoyed the ice-cream as well as the exchange between the two Jedi Masters.

"You're my former Master, Master. May I remind you that I can make decisions on my own since I'm Knighted?"

"Rubbish! Start you will. Like to see you in one-on-one battle as well, I would." Yoda changed the bowls again, digging into the ice-cream, but Obi-Wan for once seemed sated and put his spoon aside. Qui-Gon suddenly noticed the dark rings under his student's eyes. It was time to get home but on the other hand Qui-Gon had no intention of letting his Master get away with this. Not this time, anyway.

"All right," he conceded. "Fifty-fifty."

That got Yoda's attention. "What?"

"If I win the single katas, which I seriously doubt, fifty per cent of your win is mine. That's only fair." His tone brooked no argument. If his Master could use filthy paths, so could he.

"Blackmailing illegal it is on Coruscant, Padawan." Yoda stated sternly, but Qui-Gon wasn't impressed by it. Not after being his apprentice for over ten years.

"And so is faking a signature," he countered dryly, sipping on his tea, knowing that this was one of the very rare occasions where he had won an argument with his Master. Former Master, he corrected himself.

Yoda only snorted very disparagingly and Qui-Gon had a hard time keeping his amusement in check. Yoda hated admitting defeat. Eight hundred years old or not. The spirit had cooled down considerably after that and Qui-Gon had paid the check not five minutes after the ancient Master had managed not only to finish his ice-cream but Obi-Wan's dessert as well.

Naturally, he also had to pay for their ride back to the Temple. During the ride Qui-Gon wondered if he would have to carry his apprentice back to their quarters, for the young man barely managed to keep his eyes open. All these new experiences had tired him out more than his Padawan would admit. Obi-Wan hadn't said one word since Yoda's question about his choice for dessert and Qui-Gon was beginning to believe that it might have been a mistake to invite the old Master. He certainly preferred the highly spirited and inquisitive Obi-Wan over the subdued one he had become after Yoda's arrival. The tall Master wasn't sure, though, if his former Master had noticed the effect his appearance had had on the young Jedi.



The shuttle pilot landed the little craft turbulently on Silver Water, Coruscant's second moon, and Qui-Gon was roughly pulled out of his memories. He was thankful that Mace hadn't disturbed him on the short trip, being deep in his own thoughts as it seemed. As they stood, the two tall men looked at each other, preparing themselves for a boring day at yet another opening. Being Jedi didn't only consist of saving the Galaxy and rescuing the young beautiful princess from the evil dragon.

"Mace, you owe me for this one." Qui-Gon leaned towards the dark man, keeping his voice low.

The Council member raised his eyebrows. "I owe you?" His forehead wrinkled into a frown. "If you think any of this is my doing you are mistaken, Qui-Gon."

"Spare me this; I talked to Emjay."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Qui-Gon paused to greet the dignitaries that came up the ramp to accompany them to the museum. Quite impressive, a full version Guard of Honor. Well, every rumor about the museum being the prestige object of the Senate seemed to be true.

As the two Jedi followed the Guard Mace whispered to Qui-Gon. "You have to understand, Qui-Gon. This is important for the Council."

"For the Council or for you, Mace?" The look he got from his fellow Master clearly informed him that there was hardly a difference. "You could have asked me."

"And you would have agreed to come?" Windu asked, disbelieving.

"No." Qui-Gon had a hard time suppressing his amusement at the other man's frown. "Well, I might have." No need to anger the man. The day ahead would be hard enough as it was. "Still, you owe me." With that the two Jedi Masters entered the vast halls of the newly erected building, filled with diplomats of all known cultures that constituted the Republic. Qui-Gon scolded himself for his derogatory attitude. After all, the museum had been planned as a symbol of the Republic's unity. The thought alone deserved a little well-meaning from his side. Maybe he would even enjoy it; one could hope.


In the end they barely made it back to the Temple before seven. They wouldn't have, Qui-Gon knew, if Mace hadn't had an appointment of his own at seven. Qui-Gon rushed to his quarters and when he entered, he found himself short one Padawan and plus one nervous wreck. Obi-Wan was practically running towards him when he let himself in.

"Master! At last!"

Qui-Gon did the first thing that occurred to him at the sight of his nearly hysterical apprentice: He knelt and cupped the agitated boy's cheeks in both hands. "I'm here now, Padawan. Don't concern yourself any longer. It doesn't matter if we are ten minutes late for dinner."

"Thought something had happened. And Master Mon-Ahan has called twice and I didn't know what to tell her... And your comm-link was deactivated and so..." he trailed off, freeing himself from Qui-Gon's soft grip, and instead moved forward to embrace his Master in a surprisingly firm hug.

Qui-Gon cursed himself. He had deactivated his comm-link during the reception and forgotten to put it back on during their flight back. "Yes, but everything is okay now, Obi-Wan. Calm down." He gently patted the youth's back for a few moments before reaching into his tunic, producing a datapad, and gently pushing his apprentice away. "Obi-Wan, I have an errand for you to run. I need you to go to Healer Asdo'r's protege or assistant or to whomever you'll meet there and deliver this message. He or she will give you the necessary equipment for our vaccinations in return. Can you do this?"

Obi-Wan wiped away some tears and nodded firmly. "Yes, Master. Do you get to get one, too?"

"Yes, so our cycles will be adjusted. Makes it easier to keep track on 'em. And now go. We'll meet in Master Mon-Ahan's quarters. I'll go there as soon as I have used the bathroom and put on a more comfortable tunic."

The young apprentice nodded once more and was out the door.


Emjay greeted him with a bright smile and immediately relieved him of the bottle of Nuridat he had brought. "Hi Qui, you're late. Ruben says, Nuridat doesn't go too well with Rising Moon but it will do. Where's this charge of yours?"

"Hello Emjay, I'm sorry, I'm glad it'll do, and at the Healer's, getting those hypos."

His friend nodded. "Have you told him?"

"No, I couldn't. And I'm not sure I should. At least not yet," he answered a little sadly.

"I'm convinced that you'll make the right decision. You're his Master, you'll know when and if at all the time is right." With that the subject was closed for the evening.



Considerate, Emjay and Ruben hadn't laid the table yet and so Obi-Wan could place everything he had brought on the dining table when he returned ten minutes later. Qui-Gon noticed that his hands were a little shaky. Prior to Obi-Wan's arrival, Qui-Gon had told Emjay how he had planned this to happen and so his friend knew what she had to do. Having restricted Ruben to 'his' kitchen as Emjay had put it, both Masters intended to get this over with as soon as possible.

Feeling a little uneasy himself, Qui-Gon wordlessly lay down on the couch, and bared the upper half of his posterior. He hoped that it would encourage and reassure Obi-Wan when he saw how his Master had to tolerate the same inconvenience he would have.

Emjay's Master had had a medical education and so her hands were well skilled in this. Also keeping her silence, she knelt down before the sofa, preparing her task. Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon saw his apprentice as he watched the procedure from a healthy distance. He looked ready to flee from the room. Emjay had noticed it, too. "Obi-Wan? Step closer, please. You need to learn how this is done in case Qui-Gon gets injured on a mission or something." Her tone was matter-of-fact, giving away nothing of her feelings. At first, Obi-Wan came closer reluctantly but then seemed to get a grip on himself and knelt down next to the female Master, determined to watch and learn.

Qui-Gon felt the coolness of the disinfectant Emjay was using and a few seconds later how she - professionally and rather unceremoniously - entered his gluteal muscle, on the sting's heels the unpleasant burning and tearing pain as she emptied the hypo's cylinder. Force, but it hurt. Even Qui-Gon had to clench his teeth in order to keep still and quiet. The Jedi Master figured that starting to groan in pain wouldn't exactly help Obi-Wan.

It was over soon enough and the procedure repeated on his other buttock with the second injection. He couldn't suppress a sound of relief when Emjay was finally finished and he could get up from this humiliating position. While fastening his pants, he caught a look from Obi-Wan; half sympathetical and half afraid of what was to come. Obi-Wan had received the first vaccination on his second day as Qui-Gon's apprentice and now had to get the two counter injections in order to complete the inoculation. On that first occasion Obi-Wan's behavior had been more than acceptable but Qui-Gon was sure that this had been caused by Obi-Wan's first acknowledgment of their newly established bond. Having in mind the scenes of the records he had watched the previous evening, Qui-Gon feared that it might be much worse tonight because there wouldn't be anything to distract Obi-Wan this time.

"I'll be in the kitchen, helping Ruben with dinner," Emjay excused herself and Qui-Gon thought that she would be lucky if Ruben didn't kick her out of the kitchen after thirty seconds, but he refrained from making the according remark.

A heaved breath from his apprentice caught his attention and Qui-Gon was even more relieved than glad that he couldn't only see fear but also trust in Obi-Wan's eyes. Bravely, the young Jedi rose from his kneeling pose and started to lie down on the couch, following his Master's example, but Qui-Gon stopped him. "No, Obi-Wan. You don't need to lie down; you may stay standing if you like." Qui-Gon was determined to avoid anything that might trigger off those deeply buried memories torturing his apprentice. Towering over him while he administered the injections wasn't a situation he wanted Obi-Wan to be confronted with.

His Padawan looked a little doubtfully at him and Qui-Gon cautiously sat down at the dining table, beginning to prepare the two shots Obi-Wan would receive. Qui-Gon gave his apprentice a smile and bade him to come over with a small movement of his head. Obi-Wan complied hesitantly but came to stand next to his sitting Master, watching how he finished his preparations. Qui-Gon reached up and quickly squeezed a trembling shoulder. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" Obi-Wan nodded once and lowered his pants unasked, knowing what his Master expected of him. "Bend over the table a little and rest some of your weight on your arms so you can relax the muscles in your backside," the Jedi Master ordered gently. The apprentice inhaled very deeply and, again, did as his Master had told him.

Qui-Gon applied the disinfectant, ignoring Obi-Wan's slight wince. "Please enumerate the prime numbers for me, Obi-Wan. Start with the lowest and work your way up." The older Jedi hoped that this would not only distract Obi-Wan, but also calm him a little.

"One, two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-three," his Padawan obediently started to count and Qui-Gon placed his left thumb next to the spot where he wanted to break the skin, gently pressing it harder into the flesh for half a second, then releasing it and repeating the action a couple of times until he felt the tensed muscle relax slightly. Obi-Wan jumped a little when Qui-Gon drove the needle in and shut his mouth abruptly.

"Keep counting, Obi-Wan." This time his apprentice needed a second or two before he obeyed and Qui-Gon first began to push the cylinder down ever so slowly, when Obi-Wan had reached thirty-seven and had relaxed his tensed muscles again. His voice got more and more strained as the pain in his backside increased and his counting slowed accordingly, but he managed to keep still and had reached sixty-one by the time Qui-Gon was finished with the first shot. The Jedi Master's amazement at how his Padawan had endured the first shot from Healer Asdo'r so well grew with every passing second. Fortune favors fools, Qui-Gon thought; it had been sheer luck that Obi-Wan hadn't hit the ceiling right there and then.

The Padawan had taken a step back and a few deep, calming breaths and now resumed his former position, facing the second demon that was waiting for him. Obi-Wan certainly had pluck, all right. "Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon said softly, "please come and stand on my other side." He took a long look at Obi-Wan's face when the youth quickly changed sides and Qui-Gon didn't like how pale his apprentice was; all the blood had drained from his face. He surely was on the edge. The Jedi Master clenched his jaw and took the second hypo. The sooner they got this over with the better for Obi-Wan. "Start counting again, Obi-Wan," he said.

"No, please!" his apprentice exclaimed pleadingly, but it was the panic in Obi-Wan's voice that made Qui-Gon reach up instantly to stroke the youth's head.

"Shh. It's okay. We're almost done. You don't have to count if you don't want to. Just try to keep still, then."

Obi-Wan whispered a relieved "thanks," and fixed his eyes on his own hands again, which left perspiration marks on Emjay's dining table.

Qui-Gon carefully repeated his thumb procedure and could only describe the sound Obi-Wan gave when he pricked him for the second time as a squeak. "Shh. Almost over," the Jedi Master soothed again, but he didn't think Obi-Wan was acknowledging the words, let alone reacting to them. He kept his gaze stoically on his apprentice's face while he cautiously pressed the liquid inside him, and Obi-Wan's silent weeping made it all the harder for the Jedi Master. Qui-Gon thought that he was probably almost as relieved and glad as his Padawan was when he finally pulled the needle out.

He pushed the injection-kit aside and sat down on the table, ignoring his own throbbing backside, and pulled his exhausted apprentice into his arms. Qui-Gon thought that Obi-Wan would cry for a few minutes but the boy surprised him yet again when he pushed back after only a few seconds, a forced smile on his lips. "It's okay, Master, really," the young Jedi said and Qui-Gon used the Force to verify the statement. When Obi-Wan used a lappet of his tunic to dry his face from the tears, Qui-Gon realized with a compassionate smile that Obi-Wan was embarrassed at having cried here in Emjay's quarters shortly before they would have dinner.

"Okay, Obi-Wan. Why don't you go to the bathroom and clean your face a little, hm?" He considered for a moment adding a phrase like 'You did well' or 'I'm proud of you' but figured that this would only increase his student's discomfort. Obi-Wan nodded gratefully and walked slowly to the room his Master had pointed out, after fastening his pants just like Qui-Gon had done only a few minutes ago, although the Jedi Master was sure that it felt like hours for both of them. This could have been worse, far, far worse. He resolutely heaved a heavy sigh and quickly got rid of the hypos. No need to remind Obi-Wan of it any longer.


A quarter of an hour later the table was set and Ruben had proudly presented the first of five courses he had planned for this evening. Qui-Gon marveled at the young man's appearance. He did look tired and worn out; nonetheless there was a sparkle in his eyes and he smiled broadly. Obviously he enjoyed cooking, regardless of all the teasing remarks he made about it, especially when referring to his Master. For starters he'd made Raabig eggplants which were basically normal eggplants filled with a Raabian specialty. To say it was delicious was an understatement. The aroma alone was overwhelming.

Although Obi-Wan was obviously trying to appear normal and participate in their small talk, his pale and strained face spoke volumes to all of them and even some of Ruben's better jokes didn't manage to bring a smile to Obi-Wan's lips.

In a lingering silence, Qui-Gon suddenly felt a gathering of the Force as Emjay and Ruben exchanged some sort of signal. He frowned and was anxious to see what the two of them had concocted. He didn't have to wait long to get an answer to his question.

"Obi-Wan?" Ruben spoke up and continued after the youth had lifted his head and looked at him curtly. "You know that there will be this rematch between the Tigers and the Avengers the day after tomorrow, the second final, don't you?" Qui-Gon's apprentice only nodded unenthusiastically once, his mind clearly not entirely on the subject, but Ruben didn't let himself get discouraged. The Jedi Master wondered where this was heading. "You see, Master and I had tickets for box seats but she just informed me that she wouldn't be able to join me. A reception or something, wasn't it, Master?"

Qui-Gon's head shot up and he simply stared blankly at Emjay while she answered with a sad smile on her face. This simply couldn't mean what he thought it meant. "A conference, Padawan, not a reception. An important leaders conference, I might add." Emjay had always been a good liar and it seemed Ruben had learned that particular lesson extremely well, Qui-Gon thought, unable to break his stare.

"Yeah, whatever," Ruben carried on. "In any case... I was wondering if you would care to join me, Obi-Wan?"

Emjay and Ruben could absolutely not be serious about this. Emjay liked Herron in general and the team captain of the Avengers in particular and now she was going to sacrifice this to cheer Obi-Wan up? Also, the sacrifice wasn't only on Emjay's side. Qui-Gon would bet that Ruben wasn't fond of playing nanny for a younger Padawan which would be precisely what he would have to do. Furthermore, the Jedi Master didn't even dare to think what Emjay had paid for box tickets and how many strings she had had to pull to get her hands on them to begin with!

Qui-Gon didn't know how long he had stared at his friend like this but calculating from the mischievous grins on Emjay's and Ruben's faces it certainly had been longer than necessary to start looking dumb. A tug on his left sleeve slowly brought him out of his numbness.

"Master?" Another tug and Qui-Gon ordered his brain to engage. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had spoken to him. With an effort he removed his gaze from Emjay and turned his head to look at his apprentice. "Master, may I go?" At first, Qui-Gon was so startled at the sight of his apprentice's overjoyed features that he forgot to answer which immediately damped the joy on Obi-Wan's face. Suddenly something snapped inside his head and he found that he could speak again.

"Of course, you may, Obi-Wan. As long as Ruben will keep an eye on you."

"It would be my pleasure, Master Jinn," Ruben answered faster than Obi-Wan could ask him. Qui-Gon wasn't sure whether to thank or curse his friend when Obi-Wan broke out in shouts of buoyancy. At last his gratitude won the battle; after all their little scheme had worked out perfectly and that alone deserved some credit.

As did the marvelous food on his plate. He finished the eggplants and grabbed the large water pitcher for the second time, refilling his glass. Emjay's Padawan sure knew how to spice up the simplest meal. Up till now he had avoided the wine. There was ample time for savoring it later on. Four courses to go. Qui-Gon didn't even dare to think about the time Ruben had put into this.

"When will your classes end? I want to be in the arena as early as possible. They've got a whole program running before the game starts."

Qui-Gon knew it was his turn to answer Ruben's question once more, even before he felt his apprentice's stare. "There are only classes in the morning. I have scheduled additional sessions with two of the creche Masters, but they can easily be postponed. That would mean a crowded schedule for about two weeks, Obi-Wan."

His Padawan's excitement didn't lessen a bit. Not that he had intended to quench his student's enthusiasm. "It's worth it, Master. The second final will be the last game in this season." He took a bite from his plate and after swallowing it he added, "and I've never been to the arena before." His voice finally proved how touched he was by Emjay's and Ruben's invitation.

"I'll pick you up at two. We can get in at half past and with our tickets we won't have to queue up." Ruben stood and loaded himself with the remnants of the first course.

Obi-Wan jumped up, supporting the older apprentice in the insurmountable task to clear away the four plates, bowls and the nearly empty water pitcher. "Do you think Gurian will be fit by then?"

Ruben shrugged his shoulders, nearly toppling the pile of plates he was holding. Suppressing a curse he steadied his load. "He might. I hope he will be; he just deserves it. Being the top player during the entire season and then to miss the finals. Seems hardly fair. I saw the press conference. That man was close to..." The voice trailed off as the two Padawans left the living area.

Qui-Gon opened his mouth, but Emjay intercepted him. "No, Qui-Gon, don't. I know what you want to say, what you feel right now. Sometimes boys just have to be boys. And Obi-Wan needed this. Badly. So, just forget about it. And now we'll have this dinner. With no 'thank you for your sacrifice looks' from you. I consider you a good friend. And I like Obi-Wan, very much. That's the last I will say or hear about this whole thing. That's an order. Period. Enjoy yourself."

"Yes, Ma'am. Just make sure that I laugh at the right places."

"You bet." Both broke out in laughter and as the two apprentices returned Ruben frowned slightly, staring down at the plates he was holding. "It sure isn't the food. Master forbade me to put anything into it that would have psychological side effects."

Emjay and Qui-Gon wiped away some tears, fighting to regain some of their dignity. Ruben and Obi-Wan placed their dishes onto the table. "Starling Fish, fresh mind you. Only steamed, with an assortment of herbs. Nothing that would change its original flavor."

"Sixteen year old, uhhh?" Qui-Gon remarked.

"Fascinating, isn't it? Maybe someone meddled with his records. But I decided not to ask too many questions. Padawans that can cook are hard to come by."

Obi-Wan shot looks between the two grown-ups and his fellow apprentice. Qui-Gon felt a little uncertainty in his Padawan. He thought he knew what troubled him. Despite what he had told him about the pair his student wasn't yet accustomed to the way Emjay treated her Padawan. Well, he would learn quickly that Ruben had his own weapons of defense.

The young man proved him right the next second. "And so hard to entertain. Cooking is an art and artists need inspiration and spirit to do wonders. Would you hand me the wine, Master?" Qui-Gon grinned as he saw Obi-Wan catching his breath.

"Don't bother yourself with it, Padawan. It's far from needing a refill. You may just relax and enjoy the dish, Ruben." Trust Emjay to parry every move of her apprentice. Their verbal exchanges were as skillful as any lightsaber training fight. A glimmer of understanding appeared in his own Padawan's eyes and Obi-Wan's body lost some of its tension. If it hadn't been for Emjay's order he would have given her another grateful look.

This time Qui-Gon tasted the wine; it perfectly matched the fish. He felt the warmth spreading through him and for the first time during the last two days he felt safe enough to let go of his defenses and relax. After the third course, a pasta loaf Ruben had created all on his own, he started to tell a small anecdote he had witnessed a few days ago.

"The room was crowded and the audience all expectant. The appointed speaker for that day was supposed to be the highlight of the seminar. Master Noram is rhetorically brilliant and his ideas are... well, unusual. We all waited for him to start. You could almost feel the tension." He paused to register the attentiveness of his own audience. Even Emjay seemed enraptured. "So he climbed up to the micro and shuffled through his papers. He adjusted the device and began. 'Good Morning.' Before he could go on someone behind him answered, 'Morning.' For a second the audience was stunned. But then all could see the janitor appear on the platform, busy mopping the ground. Noram just stared at the man, totally at a loss. The crowd broke out in laughter, cheers and applause. You should have seen Noram's face. It was priceless. He never got around to giving his speech. He'd totally lost it." Qui-Gon grinned at the memory. Emjay broke into a fit of laughter.

"I'd have loved to see that. Force! I can almost hear it." Ruben grinned broadly and stood to fetch the next course. Obi-Wan just stared at his Master and swallowed. Qui-Gon smiled at him and touched his cheek fleetingly. That broke the astonishment and the boy joined in the laughter.

Ruben came back and presented the dessert, the souffle he had called Rising Moon. "The name is not my invention. And I don't know where it comes from. But it's... It's... Well, just taste it and tell me what you think." He placed the tiny dishes in front of everyone and settled down behind his own portion. The next minutes were filled with 'ahhs' and 'ohhs' and Qui-Gon - despite his vast experience with culinary items - had to admit that the dish was most definitely one of the finest he had ever tasted.

Emjay was the first to find her voice. "This is a winner, Padawan. It will come in handy the next time I need to convince Yoda to change the Temple politics." She tugged her apprentice's braid gently. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan hurried to give their heartfelt compliments. The tall Jedi shuddered at the thought of another course but it turned out to be an assortment of cheeses and fruits, the traditional final part of a dinner.

After the third yawn in a row from his Padawan Qui-Gon prepared to leave soon. "Emjay, I think we must go now. It's past Obi-Wan's bedtime already."

His friend smiled understandingly. "Thank you for your company. I needed it. Business has been hard these last weeks."

Qui-Gon stood and his apprentice followed suit. "Thank you, Ruben. It was... beyond description."

"You're welcome, Master Jinn. Cooking is an art that has to be shared, not hidden."

"Wise words, young man. Wish your insight in some of your other studies were that clear," his Master remarked dryly. Grinning, Ruben disappeared into the kitchen, turning in the doorway once more.

"I'll pick you up, then, Obi-Wan."

"Yes. And thanks, Ruben."

"You're welcome," the other apprentice simply stated and vanished into the other room.

"Shouldn't we help him with the mess?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan, Ruben and I just clear the table tonight and do the cleaning in the morning." After a short pause Emjay added, "Together."

Obi-Wan smiled, stretched out his hand, and said seriously. "Thank you, Master Mon-Ahan. Good night." The female Jedi took the hand and squeezed it firmly.

"As Ruben said, you're welcome, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon, who witnessed the whole scene, was surprised that Obi-Wan didn't let go of Emjay's hand. She knelt down to face the boy. "Is there anything else?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes pools of darkness in his pale face. "I... I'd like you to be my L'Biras Anad, Master Mon-Ahan." He still clung to her hand.

"I'm honored, Obi-Wan. And glad." The seriousness didn't leave the apprentice's face. Emjay frowned. Qui-Gon kept his silence, waiting. It wasn't for him to interfere. "Yes?" she finally encouraged the young apprentice.

"You... I... I want you to know that I didn't do it because of the tickets." Obi-Wan sighed audibly when he got that out.

Emjay was nonplussed. "You what?" She broke into laughter and drew the youth into a tight embrace. "I'd never have thought that, Obi-Wan." She let go of him. "And now you better leave. Your Master looks like he's dead on his feet."

Obi-Wan grinned and nodded eagerly. Qui-Gon threw his friend a pointedly grateful look. "Good night, Emjay." She opened the door for them and the next second the two Jedi were on their way home, Obi-Wan walking a little behind his Master. Both kept their silence. Qui-Gon wished he knew what was on his apprentice's mind right now. He didn't want to spy, though. The feelings he received through the bond were promising. Relief and contentment. And amusement.

"Master?"

"Yes, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon slowed his pace until Obi-Wan was at his side.

"Do you think she believed me? That I didn't do it because of the tickets?"

"I am sure of that, Obi-Wan."

"Me too."

Qui-Gon let the following silence linger for a few moments. "When did you decide it then?"

The answer came without hesitation. "When she came last night to fetch Ruben." Qui-Gon understood; it pleased him to see that his Padawan judged his friend by her actions and not by her sometimes rude words.

"Ruben is very dear to her. I was glad when she found him so quickly after her first Padawan was Knighted."

Obi-Wan looked at his Master. "Ruben is only her second Padawan?" Qui-Gon nodded his confirmation. "But she's older than you are, Master. And I'm your third. How is that possible?"

Qui-Gon laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "There's nothing mysterious about it. My first apprentice and I spent less than a year together."

A slight ripple in the Force told him that Obi-Wan was shocked by his answer. The reason for it was revealed by his apprentice's next remark. "Dead?" was the only thing he brought out.

"No, Obi-Wan, Kar-Khut isn't dead. Far from it. Actually she just got promoted to senior Knight." He smiled down at his Padawan. "Next time she is back in the Temple you'll probably meet her."

"I would like that, Master. But why was she only with you for such a short time?"

"Well, your assumption that she was dead wasn't that far from the truth. Her Master died in the line of duty and the Council thought that she wasn't ready to face the Trials just then. So I came into play." His apprentice looked up at him, smiling radiantly. Master and Padawan walked home, together.



- the end -