Suspicion

by Dr Squidlove ( drsquidlove@virginqueen.com )

Return to Chapter One

Chapter Two

The first morning of negotiations brought Qui-Gon's first opportunity to observe Obi-Wan in action. It was a preliminary meeting to discuss mineral shipping rights, and all of Saban's dominant mining interests were present, along with five of the twelve offworld companies enrolled in the Industry Conference.

There were over forty people seated around the ring of desks, and they all stood as Qui-Gon entered. Obi-Wan joined the others in the head-touch greeting this time, but the gesture was accompanied by a mocking smile. Such disrespect for a Jedi and the chosen mediator would earn him no favour with the locals, particularly those who remembered Qui-Gon's assistance during the floods, but Obi-Wan didn't seem to care. Qui-Gon ignored him and made his way to his own seat, realising with dismay that the seat left for him was directly across the circle from his former padawan.

Sollie was marked in Perkog's application files as being the senior delegate, but from their interaction, the hierarchy was not so clear. She only spoke a few times, interjecting to ask for clarifications. Most of the dealing was left to Obi-Wan, who charmed everyone with his quiet confidence and smiled more often and more openly in those two hours than he had through his entire apprenticeship. Qui-Gon barely knew this man. Before the opening introductions were complete, he'd created a mood where the representatives all forgot they were in competition and actually began cooperating to divide up the available business. By the end of the meeting, they were all deferring to Obi-Wan as their natural leader.

These were the negotiating skills Obi-Wan had learned Qui-Gon's side, at the level of easy skill he ought to have achieved after ten or fifteen years as an independent knight. Obi-Wan made a point of granting everyone in the room a little special attention - except Qui-Gon, to whom he was coldly polite. The mood dropped every time they interacted, until Qui-Gon decided he would do better simply to observe in silence.

Everyone seemed disconcerted by Obi-Wan's attitude, unsure where to place their loyalties. It was better, Qui-Gon thought, not to force them to choose.

When the meeting ended everyone lingered, talking in twos and threes. Qui-Gon answered questions, watching unobtrusively as the senior government official cornered Obi-Wan with a look that was openly disapproving. A hand waved in Qui-Gon's direction as he spoke, and Obi-Wan looked up in time to catch Qui-Gon's eye. They held a moment, and then Obi-Wan turned back to the official with a look that made his regard for Qui-Gon seem warm. His voice rose, just loud enough to be heard throughout the room. "I will accept the authority of any mediator Saban chooses, but I have no respect for Jedi."

Silence, as the room's attention fell on Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon hid his frown. Even he was surprised. It was a sloppy error for Obi-Wan to risk all the respect he had gathered through the meeting on a hope that Qui-Gon might grant him a scene. Qui-Gon had no intention of making himself the fool, so he simply waited, eyeing Obi-Wan as though he were a misbehaving child, until Obi-Wan gathered his casualness and sauntered out.

It was Sollie who eventually broke the silence, a forced smile on her face as she shuffled her datapads into her bag and brightly informed the room, "Though our mission prioritises specific work accountabilities, deliverables and outputs for which each team member is individually responsible, our behaviours are occasionally unrepresentative of the organisational aspirations of Perkog."

As if that answered everything, she followed him out.

Lunch was an informal affair, tables at the centre of the reception hall laden with spicy cold-weather food, the walls lined with plenty of tables and chairs so delegates could sit if they pleased. Most chose to stand, taking the chance to tend or extend their network of potential friends. Qui-Gon armed himself with a small selection of cakes and found a table of his own with a good view.

He had always loved to watch his padawan work a room. It was a subtle thing; Obi-Wan was far too reserved to command a group if he could avoid it, but by his late teens he had learned that he could befriend people one or two at a time, and make each one feel privileged to have shared his company. Qui-Gon had rarely left any kind of reception without hearing compliments on his padawan's intelligence and exquisite manners.

Watching those skills used in service to commercial gain was a blasphemy. Obi-Wan no longer had the charming innocence of youth, but now he had the gravity of age and he listened earnestly to each person who captured his attention. No doubt he was aware of Qui-Gon's scrutiny, but he conscientiously ignored him.

Throughout the meal, he and Sollie worked as a polished team, seeking out the powerful, avoiding the lesser players. Between them it seemed they had already befriended all the most senior business leaders on Saban.

Qui-Gon's attention was caught by a group of locals across the room who were crowding in on a government official. Crop-growers, Qui-Gon remembered, no doubt annoyed at the minister's proposed tariffs. He threaded through the crowd to calm them, forgetting how close his path would take him to Obi-Wan until a soft laugh raised the hair on his arms. "Not at all, Madam, though if you were to ask me over a bottle of wine, I would likely be most tempted."

Qui-Gon forced his steps to continue unpaused. Ben Kenobi was not a Jedi; he had every right to flirt with whomever, however he wanted, but it was so alien to the life Qui-Gon had taught him. Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan was gone, years of careful tuition thrown away.

Qui-Gon almost faltered at the surge of anger in his mind. *He* had been thrown away.

Was that what bothered him so much? He had always presumed that it must have been something unendurable that drove Obi-Wan out of the Jedi. In those early years, when he hoped to find him around every corner, the picture in his mind had been of a broken man, begging another chance. To find him now, content and indifferent, was a blunt mockery of everything Qui-Gon had tried to teach him to hold dear.

Qui-Gon abandoned the minister to fight his own battle and slipped out to the icy night air on the balcony. Did Obi-Wan not have the right to choose his own path? Qui-Gon had always firmly believed that a good teacher taught his student to think, while a bad one imposed his own will. He had always considered himself the former, daring Obi-Wan - and Xanatos before him - to question and challenge all of his teachings. Obi-Wan had never had any trouble absorbing that particular lesson.

Apparently, it was the only lesson he'd taken with him.

By the second evening, all the offworld attendees had learned to dress to the weather and were more apt to linger along the balconies and through the gardens. More people greeted him, and Qui-Gon was glad to recognise a few of the friendly faces as delegates from the mineral shipping meeting. It seemed Obi-Wan's impertinence had not inflicted the damage he intended.

Qui-Gon reached the end of a balcony and stopped, holding his breath.

In the garden below Obi-Wan stood a discreet distance from the woman he'd been flirting with earlier, but her blush and her quiet giggle implied anything but discretion. She was half-sitting against the low brick wall that bordered the flowerbed, skirt hitched high despite the weather, leaning forward with all her attention settled on Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had checked her credentials after observing them at lunch: she was a powerful but lesser-known player in the mineworkers' consortium.

He hung back to watch with macabre fascination as his reserved padawan reached to drag a finger along her jaw and she left her perch to come to him, leaning in for a slow kiss. Obi-Wan put his hands on her buttocks to jerk her closer and she squeaked, breaking into more laughter. She wrapped one arm around his neck and buried her other hand in his beard, and the laughter disappeared into hungry kisses, the pair of them pawing so desperately they stumbled back into the wall. This time Obi-Wan's laughter joined her own, rich and warm, and soon she was tugging him towards the residential quarter, Obi-Wan following willingly.

Qui-Gon remained in the shadows.

Qui-Gon fought a yawn and pressed his thumb to yet another contract, handing it back and dismissing the delegate with a nod. He'd pored through Perkog's brief and vague history deep into the night, until weariness made his eyes cross, and then he'd taken himself to bed and lain awake long after that.

He had nothing. By appearance, Perkog was simply a remarkably successful new shipping company with a particularly diverse range of interests.

Qui-Gon beckoned for the next contract holder to be shown in, felt his stomach tighten as Obi-Wan strode up to present an infopad.

Qui-Gon took it with a long look, skimmed over the first screen. Perkog had secured a major export shipping deal with Saban's leading mining company. He raised an eyebrow. "You are purchasing a disused mine as part of the contract?"

"The Terkle Coast mine has infrastructure we can use for our major transport base. We will be giving a dying community a new industry."

"Most charitable."

Obi-Wan snorted. "Of course, I forgot that good works are the sole property of the Jedi. I'll put word through to my minions to begin raping and pillaging, shall I?"

"We know Perkog is corrupt." The accusation burst out, groundless, but Qui-Gon knew when to trust his instincts. "Your company's rise has been amazing to say the least."

Obi-Wan was unmoved. "I told you. I'm the best."

"You're cheating these people."

"If I did, they'd thank me for it." Obi-Wan stopped and rubbed his beard as he gathered himself, and when he resumed the snap was gone. "I may not work by your standards, Master Jinn, but the people of this planet will give thanks for the day Perkog came. We have no plans to abuse them. The contract is good. You have no grounds to refuse it but personal ones."

They glowered at each other for a long moment, and it was Qui-Gon who finally looked down to examine the contract. It was true; aside from the size, this was no different from all the other contracts Qui-Gon had thumbed that morning.

Very well. Qui-Gon copied the file to the government database and pressed his thumb to the sensor square.

The mining and agricultural corporations of Saban were thanking Perkog already, vying for time with Obi-Wan and Sollie. The building and transport industries were lazily awaiting the resultant infrastructure deals. Effortlessly, by the end of the third day of negotiations Perkog had fixed themselves as the dominant exporter, leaving the other offworld companies to scrounge for minor players.

Their success made them unavoidable, which allowed Qui-Gon to keep a close eye on Obi-Wan. Less happily, it forced him to keep a close eye on Obi-Wan.

His liaison with the woman from the mines seemed to be over, and instead he had passed a good portion of the day sharing his charms with engineering and transport people, seeming to spend as much time telling them travel anecdotes as he did discussing Perkog's distribution needs.

Qui-Gon signed off deal after deal, never able to find reason to reject any of them. He looked forward all day to the close of business, when he could escape to the privacy of his room. It was a good plan, until he overheard Sollie inviting people to a small informal gathering. She seemed to interpret his look as suspicious, and she invited him as well, joking that he could police it for illegal dealing.

He should have refused the invitation. Surely, as mediator, he was bound to refuse the invitation to maintain impartiality. Obi-Wan's furious glance demanded he refuse the invitation.

He didn't.

And here he was, at the entrance to the enemy's lair.

Sollie threw open the door. "Come in, Master Jinn. We appreciate your presence. I presume you've already been familiarised with everyone here? It's fortuitous that you were incorporated, in truth - I hope you brought your lightsaber. The Prime Minister's change initiatives are under discussion, and it's developing into a frank diversion of opinions."

Qui-Gon followed her into the main room where over a dozen people were sitting in twos and threes, absorbed in canapes and chatter. Obi-Wan was laughing with the head of one of the major construction companies.

"Master Jinn!" Obi-Wan stood and greeted him with a plastic smile. "You are our mediator. Tell us - do you believe offworld investment in a planet is a healthy development?"

Qui-Gon hesitated as the other conversations in the room slowed. "Either side has its merits. As you know, the last thing a mediator should do is take sides."

"I don't know about that." Obi-Wan sat once more, and turned to his companion, taking up a bottle to refresh their drinks. "For all their pretence, Jedi take sides all the time. They push for the outcome that best pleases the Senate and their own sensibilities. They're the same as you or I or any other profitable company, only we are quite open about our self-interest."

Qui-Gon dipped his head, conceding, well-aware that every person in the room was listening avidly. "Would you care to tell us where you gathered so much knowledge of Jedi ways, Kenobi?"

Green flash fire in his eyes. "Experience. I have seen Jedi at work. You are avoiding my question."

Donning an _expression of deep contemplation, Qui-Gon allowed a few moments to wisely consider before addressing his retort to Obi-Wan's companion. "I have overseen more expansions like this one than you can imagine. I find some planets derive great benefit from offworld investment, and others have been harmed irreparably. The cultural and economic impacts have varied widely. If I can generalise at all, it tends to depend on the nature of the initial investors." He tipped his head to the construction magnate. "It is difficult to know yet whether your children will bless or curse this new era. I can only encourage you to choose your investors wisely."

The gentleman lifted his drink in salute. "Very diplomatic, Master Jinn. Very diplomatic."

The meal went much as Qui-Gon expected, business matters dutifully ignored while the hosts disguised research as small talk. Current events and cultural norms were gently probed, and Qui-Gon couldn't help but admire their subtlety, Sollie as much as Obi-Wan. If he weren't trained in the same diplomacy, he wouldn't have recognised it himself.

With an attentive ear, he learned a surprising amount about the local climate, all the details that could not be gleaned from the briefing files. Of course the Prime Minister had won favour with the commercial sector by opening trade, but she had also been effective in calming the objections of the wider public. It was a fairly typical closed world, curiosity for the rest of the galaxy curbed by well-meant racism. The people were concerned with education, the environment and social justice, but good intentions were easily put aside when it came to short-term economic growth.

Qui-Gon waded into the conversations slowly, wary of reigniting the games from the shipping rights meeting. As long as he kept far from Obi-Wan, though, it turned out to be a remarkably pleasant evening. It took a good while to put the locals at ease with socialising with the mediator, but by the time they finished their meal, three were eagerly grilling Qui-Gon about the galaxy they were soon to meet. They wanted to know how many planets Qui-Gon had visited and which were the strangest and if other planets' peculiar social customs might infect their own.

Later in the evening, Sollie joined him at the main table, settling into a chair opposite him. "I must apologise for my colleague's manner, Master Jinn." She smiled, as smoothly as Obi-Wan. "He takes issue with your integration in our private arena. Please don't take it personally. He's never been favourable to Jedi."

Not never. "You countenance his behaviour?"

She waved her hand in dismissal. "Challenging the authority of the designated mediator is not Perkog's core business strategy, but I have no doubt Ben has informed you - he's our most effective network facilitator. In any order, it's not within my purview to countenance his methodology. He conducts himself with general autonomy, and I have no seniority over him."

That was interesting. "I was led to believe this was your venture."

She grinned. "The overview team leadership role absolutely falls to me, though it would more accurately be termed an administrative designation. He was assigned to partner me, and I'm hardly surprised. Saban is key to our company's expansion strategy, and as you can observe, Ben is the man to deliver the product."

"How long have you known him?"

"I met him when I joined the Perkog team a half-year ago, though I would hesitate to suggest that our professional relationship extends into the personal arena. He has accompanied me in a consultancy role at occasional trade events."

They both looked to the corner where their subject was sitting with a wiry, balding gentleman who was only vaguely familiar. He had his hand on Obi-Wan's knee as Obi-Wan talked low in his ear.

Another flirtation? Already?

"He's a private one, our Ben." She slid back in her seat, forcing Qui-Gon to return proper attention. "You seem rather focussed, if you'll permit the evaluation. He's hardly the only operator in the galactic market to distrust Jedi value objectives. "

"And you?"

"I've never found a situational drive for an informed analysis. The concept seems comforting enough, a warming bedtime tale for children. I will say this: you're selling the image effectively. You're a solid advertisement for Jedi patience, the way you've been absorbing Ben's rudeness."

She grinned, and he nodded, vaguely. He didn't need to know what was going on in that dim corner. "You are aware that your company is drawing suspicion?"

"We are an aggressively successful operator and the dominant new entrant to a previously locked marketplace. I would be surprised if we didn't. It's an exciting challenge, but at the end of the day we will earn the loyalty of this market, Master Jinn. Our success is implemented with savvy business competency and a policy of respect for our workers and clients. Did Ben tell you we will be driving ten percent of our profits back into education?"

"Ten percent?" Qui-Gon did not bother to hide his scepticism.

Sollie shrugged, twisting in her chair. "Gulledin Corporation has agreed to take the burden of construction costs; we'll be funding the human resources and supplies. Parents who take pride in their children's education are workers who take pride in their jobs. Family values are a key priority in Perkog's mission statement. Regional financial distribution provides stronger returns than money in the workers' own pockets."

"Schools are hardly your domain."

"Diversification is a core component to sustainable success."

"You mean indispensability is."

"It's good business practice." She beamed.

"I am sure there is great advantage in controlling the infrastructure that supports your employees."

She simply laughed. "You are very cynical, Jedi Master Jinn. You are so very much like Ben."

The light words washed like a chill down Qui-Gon's spine. "I am nothing like your Mr Kenobi."

She reached across the table to give his arm an affectionate squeeze. "I wish you two could sit down together and talk. You would be surprised at how much you have in common."

Gulledin Corporation.

The man with the wandering hands.

Qui-Gon forced his gaze to stay on Sollie, away from Obi-Wan's seduction. He wasn't sure he even needed to check the files to confirm it.

Qui-Gon rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck. Still nothing.

Obi-Wan's conquest at the party was a senior director in Gulledin Corporation, Perkog's generous new partner in education enterprise. He was also a family man, married with four young children. It seemed Obi-Wan really was very good at what he did.

But loose morals weren't a crime on Saban, nor was flirtation between businessmen, so Qui-Gon had gone on to download everything Yoda's researchers had found on Perkog, and he'd been glued to the terminal ever since. There were the first stirrings of pre-dawn outside, crying birds, early workers hurrying past, and he'd found nothing.

The company had managed a surprising reach in their brief year, striking deals on planets scattered from the Outer Rim all the way into Coruscant. There were strong routes for smuggling goods, but if that was their hidden business, then they'd hidden it well. The company was diverse; mostly trade of everything from minerals to livestock to medical supplies, but there was construction, too. Security. A little agriculture.

There was something going on; every hour made Qui-Gon more positive. He flashed through branch files. It was all too neat. No large corporation ascribed to the letter of the law. They cut corners and trusted lawyers to smooth their errors behind them. They had disputes with other companies. They had failures. Perkog had nothing.

Obi-Wan was not the only employee with a lost past, however. There was scant background on quite a few, Sollie included. The upper echelons of the company were entirely shadowed. Nameless, faceless.

Qui-Gon didn't trust that at all.

Qui-Gon hovered at the corner, jiggling slightly to keep warm, feeling entirely too conspicuous. The corridors between the residential buildings were deserted, everyone attending negotiations, as the mediator would be expected to do.

His mandate as mediator was not sharply defined. The specific legal parameters were no doubt well-understood by the Sabani who had fulfilled the role in the past, all of whom had prior experience as conference participants. No one had seen a need to put assumed knowledge in writing.

And so it was that Qui-Gon had a little room to decide his own parameters. Investigation of suspicious elements was definitely included. Stealing into the private quarters of traders was most likely not.

These, however, were extraordinary circumstances, and Obi-Wan was a curiosity for more than his role in Saban's expanding industry.

Qui-Gon had checked the scheduling carefully; Perkog was in discussion with an on-planet transport network. He had a few hours to be sure Obi-Wan was occupied, and a very small gap between his own meetings. And yet it was some time before he double-checked his shielding, broke from his corner to override the entry computer and slid quietly into Perkog's apartment.

They were meticulously neat, as Obi-Wan had always kept his space in the Temple. Either Obi-Wan controlled the apartment, or Sollie was as bad as he was. Giving in to a moment of curiosity, Qui-Gon circled to Sollie's door and peeked in. One eyebrow shot up. He hadn't seen so many clothes strewn about in such a limited space since Xanatos was a boy.

It was all clothes, though, a few accessories. He tip-toed his way carefully through the mass, but there was nothing to find in here.

Back in the main room, he picked up pads that had been left on the small table and scrolled through. Most of the files he'd already hacked from Perkog's database; he downloaded the rest.

Further in, to Obi-Wan's sleeproom door, pushed it open and froze.

Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan facing away from the door, on his knees on the bed with his face buried in the groin of a young man. Both were naked, Obi-Wan's strong fingers spreading the youth's legs wide, and the youth's own fingers buried in Obi-Wan's thick golden hair. Not a sound between them but the occasional gasp from the stranger, his head thrown back to bury dark curls in the pillow, his eyes closed. Obi-Wan's soft round buttocks pointed to Qui-Gon, his knees planted wide to expose his low, gold-furred balls.

Qui-Gon near-stumbled as he withdrew, catching sight of the boy's clothes lying tangled by the door, trousers still caught in the boots - the green-trimmed uniform of an accommodations attendant.

He forced himself to pause in the main room, to be sure he hadn't been seen. An "Oh!" broke the quiet, not Obi-Wan's voice, and then another, and a sudden merry giggle.

That was more than enough to propel Qui-Gon outside, where the cold bit at his skin. He closed his eyes to breathe it deep, folding his arms into his cloak. Gold hair trailing from swinging balls up the wide crevice, to the pinched dark hole.

Qui-Gon needed to meditate.

On to third part