Archive:
Master and Apprentice--anyone else ask please
Summary: Qui-Gon learns a
few lessons about passion and consequences.
Disclaimer: I don't own
anyone, much less these fine characters--although I own a couple of action
figures of them, does that count? Probably not. Oh well, I refuse to make any
money off them in any event, so please don't sue me.
Notes: This story
consumed my life this past summer, and I very much appreciate the many, many
people who let me talk out the plot, who read snippets (even when the thought of
Q/X made them nauseous [g]), who listened to me whine, and who were very
supportive the whole time--especially poor Cori, who had to listen practically
every day all day [g]. Most of all, I want to get down on my knees and worship
at the feet of Kimdy and Destina, two of the best beta readers the world has
ever seen. If you see any mistakes in here, it's certainly not for lack of their
trying to get me to see them. [g]
And to No Doubt, who recorded the song
that led to me spending hours pondering what Qui-Gon was like when he was young
and happier and open and hadn't been betrayed yet...I'm not sure if I should say
thank you or damn you.... ;-)
Also...there's a short sequel to this
story on my website, and a longer Q/O one in the works right now. Hope you
enjoy!
Coarse, dark
hair slid through tanned fingers. Bronzed hands traveled down a long, pale
column of a neck, across a wider expanse of the creamy skin, down the back to
rest on taut flanks as the two separate beings fused together....
Qui-Gon closed his eyes tightly as if that would stop the images that
came unbidden to his mind; they were nothing more than a sign of his own lack of
control. What his student was doing in his free time was the boy's own business
and Qui-Gon knew he should be ashamed of himself for listening in.
He
drove the desires from his mind, replacing them with a careful serenity that
would not put him in danger of discovery should his padawan sense his thoughts.
Of course, to do that, the boy would have to actually be home.
With a
deep breath, Qui-Gon opened his eyes. He watched as the first rays of the sun
rose over the spire at the northeast corner of the Jedi Temple. Morning was fast
approaching and there was still no sign of his padawan.
Just as his
unease was sliding into worry, Qui-Gon felt his padawan nearing their quarters.
He turned toward the door as it opened, allowing his disapproval to show on his
face.
Xanatos' smile faded somewhat as he faced his master. "You're up
early," he commented calmly as he shed his robe.
"On the contrary, I am
up quite late."
The robe landed in a careless heap on the chair. "And I
thought I was past the age when you had to wait up for me," he joked as he
sprawled gracefully onto the couch.
"As did I." Qui-Gon crossed his arms
across his chest, his frown deepening into a scowl. "Where have you been?"
"Out with friends." Xanatos laid his head back into spooned hands,
elbows sticking out, and smiled up at his master. "We agreed I was old enough to
come and go as I pleased."
"That was when I assumed you were old enough
to know when it was time to come home."
The smile disappeared from
Xanatos' face. "I apologize Master. If you have a problem with my late hours you
need only say so." The contrite tone was at odds with the relaxed, confident
body language.
Qui-Gon sighed. "See that you're home at a decent hour
from now on and we'll say no more about it," he said in a softer tone.
"Yes, Master." He hastily covered his yawn. "Are we sparring this
morning, Master?"
After a moment's silence, Qui-Gon took pity on the
boy. "We'll spar this afternoon; your morning is free."
"Thank you."
Xanatos rolled off the couch, standing easily. With a quick bow, he headed for
his room.
Qui-Gon watched him go without bothering to hide his
affection. He wasn't sure he was tough enough on the boy at times. His padawan
needed a strong hand guiding him.
The Jedi Master grimaced at the surge
of need that arced through him as the images he'd 'seen' earlier played through
his mind again, this time with his own hands gliding across the smooth skin of
his Padawan's body. He forced his mind to go blank, locking that scene far away
in his mind.
Unbidden, another memory resurfaced-- Xanatos lying on the
couch moments ago, pale face bathed by the sun, dark blue eyes sparkling in the
bright morning light.
How was he supposed to reprimand his apprentice
while the boy lay there, clearly satiated, exuding sexual satisfaction from his
nocturnal activities? Hiding his attraction to his padawan was playing with
fire; if the Council found out, he could be removed as Xanatos' master. If his
Padawan wasn't so close to knighthood....
But he was. Approval of his
apprentice's elevation to the rank of knight was imminent. He had passed the
initial tests with flying colors; now all that remained were his trials. Qui-Gon
had already put in a request that the Council consider choosing a date for
Xanatos' trials. In fact, he'd put in two requests, since his first had received
no response.
At least he'd received no official response.
Privately, however, Master Yoda had voiced his concerns about Xanatos. "Not
ready for knighthood, is he. Too eager to follow paths quicker and more
pleasurable." The pronouncement still echoed through Qui-Gon's mind, h aunting
him. He was certain there was no cause for alarm. Yoda did not know Xanatos the
way Qui-Gon did. There was no danger in enjoying life. Living in the moment was
an important skill for a Jedi and if Xanatos lived each moment to the fullest he
should be congratulated, not scolded. And judging from the fleeting images and
more persistent feelings Xanatos transmitted through their bond, his Padawan was
definitely living life to the fullest.
The boy simply needed to find the
balance between recreation and duty, to see to it that he was not caught
ill-prepared for any sudden missions because he'd been out until dawn having
fun. Qui-Gon thought their talk today would take care of that problem. Then the
Council would have no reason to keep Xanatos from his trials any longer.
A cloud passed in front of the sun, the sudden shift in light drawing
Qui-Gon out of his reverie. He yawned as the sleepless night caught up with him.
As he headed for his own room, he tried not to think of all the possibilities
Xanatos' knighthood would bring about.
Qui-Gon was awakened mid-morning by a summons from his former master. He
pulled a cloak of serenity around himself and buried his feelings for his
padawan deep in his mind as he walked the distance to Yoda's quarters.
The timing of the request for a meeting was distressing . He could hide
his feelings so well almost no one would be able to sense them.
Almost
no one.
He had never had to shield something like this from his
master--at least not since his padawan days. Now, of course, his shields were
much stronger. But not necessarily strong enough to stop Master Yoda. As he
arrived his master's door, Qui-Gon hoped the strength of his shields wouldn't be
tested today. As usual, the diminutive master's expression was serene, with not
even a hint as to why he had called Qui-Gon to his room.
"You wished to
see me, Master?"
Yoda looked up at him, the movement deliberate and
unhurried, as usual. "Saw your padawan returning this morning, Qui-Gon."
He waited, but his master said no more, an old trick Qui-Gon knew well
and frequently used himself. "Yes?"
"Padawans are not generally allowed
to come and go as they please," Yoda continued after a moment.
"No, they
aren't," Qui-Gon agreed.
His master watched him for another moment, then
sighed, putting his whole body into that one exhalation. "Asked again that
Xanatos be knighted, you did."
"The Council has come to a decision,
then?" Qui-Gon asked, knowing they had not. If the Council had decided, they'd
be having this meeting in the Council's chambers.
"Decided they have
not." Master Yoda waved his hand toward the floor. "Come down here you will."
The words held a touch of impatience. Qui-Gon knelt on one knee to meet his
master's eyes. "Know you my thoughts on this," Yoda continued.
"You
don't believe Xanatos is ready to become a knight."
"Dangerous, he would
be, if knighted now." Qui-Gon opened his mouth to argue, but his master silenced
him with a gesture. "Final mission you must take the boy on."
"Final? Is
this some sort of test?"
"Test it is not. Lesson it is. If learn what he
needs to know Xanatos does, knighted he will be."
"And if the Council
decides he has not learned his lesson?"
His master's head dipped forward
slightly, eyes sliding into mere slits. "If lesson goes unlearned, all else will
matter not."
Typical cryptic Yoda message--vague warnings of doom that
could mean anything. Qui-Gon rose to leave.
"Wait. One more thing to
tell you I have. " The old Master looked carefully into Qui-Gon's eyes. "Tell
him about this conversation you cannot. Only to think this is a regular mission,
he is."
Qui-Gon nodded and rose from the floor. "Where is the mission,
Master?"
"Telos."
Xanatos' home world. A world where his father
held much wealth and power. So it was a test, then, no matter what Yoda wanted
to call it. The Council thought Xanatos would be tempted by wealth, but Qui-Gon
knew better. The boy had his own kinds of pleasures, and money had never been
part of them.
"Is that all?"
"So certain are you, then, that
this will turn out as you wish?"
"I know my padawan."
Yoda
frowned. "Mmmm. We shall see. Leave in the morning, you will. Sleep tonight,
your padawan should."
"I will go prepare for the mission." At his
master's nod, Qui-Gon bowed and left quickly, before he give anything away, if
he hadn't already.
Qui-Gon returned to his quarters and began his research on the mission.
Normally, Xanatos would help, but he needed to sleep. This mission would go
well. Qui-Gon was determined to see that it did.
Halfway through his
research, he reached out across their bond to see if the boy was still asleep.
Contentment was the first feeling he sensed...contentment combined with arousal.
Qui-Gon tried to pull back from the bond, but he was assaulted with
images from Xanatos' dream. He saw his naked apprentice, head thrown back, eyes
closed in pleasure. Those eyes opened slowly, gazing fire down at Qui-Gon as
Xanatos thrust into him over and over, whispering "Master" repeatedly, like a
liturgy.
With a gasp, Qui-Gon wrenched himself free of the vision. While
most students harbored such thoughts toward their masters at one time, Xanatos
had never shown any sign of infatuation, and he was long past the age where such
things were common.
So what were the boy's feelings, then? Boy? Qui-Gon
laughed softly. He could think of Xanatos as a boy, but he was very much a man,
and a desirable one at that. It was time Qui-Gon stopped running away from that
fact and faced it.
The image from Xanatos' dream floated through his
mind again, increasing his own arousal. Perhaps this was not quite the right
time to face his feelings after all, if this was the effect a single image had
on him. For now, he had to concentrate on the mission. Xanatos would be a
knight. Once that happened, the rest would fall into place as the Force willed.
That decided, he put down his datapad and headed off to take a shower. A
very cold shower. Then he could continue his research with a clear mind.
It was mid-afternoon before Xanatos surfaced, still dressing as he hurried
out of his room. "Master, I apologize for oversleeping. You should have woken
me."
Qui-Gon looked up from his datapad, cursing silently as his
padawan's appearance--hair tousled, eyes half-lidded as he shook off the last
signs of sleep--quickly undid the effect of the cold shower.
He hid the
effect the boy had on him, conscious that Xanatos was staring at him oddly. "I
let you sleep," Qui-Gon stopped to clear his throat, "because our plans have
changed."
He waited, hoping his student hadn't sensed his thoughts.
Xanatos' face cleared of confusion as he nodded at the datapad in Qui-Gon's
hands. "We've a mission, then?"
Qui-Gon nodded, not trusting himself to
speak as his apprentice came around behind him to read over his shoulder.
Xanatos leaned over, his hands on his master's shoulders, his breath warming
Qui-Gon's ear as he read.
Faster than Qui-Gon could think to stop it,
the dream he'd witnessed slammed back into his mind. He fought it off, banishing
it to a place deep in his mind, then held his breath, waiting.
The hands
on his shoulders tightened their grip a bit; the breathing in his ear shallowed.
Then Xanatos released him, moving away toward the kitchen. "So, we're going to
Telos? It'll be wonderful to see my home world again as an adult."
Was
that a reminder to his master that he was no longer a child? Qui-Gon shook his
head. He was reading subtext into every word and action now. He had to gain
control. Quicker than he would have liked, Xanatos reappeared, glass in hand.
"Shall I go and pack for us while you finish preparing, Master?"
Master.
Again the dream came back, the whispered caress Xanatos had made out of that
word sending a sharp pang of desire straight to Qui-Gon's groin. "Yes, please,
Padawan."
A brief pause, an almost startled glance, and then his
apprentice disappeared back into his own room. Qui-Gon sighed in relief, then
put down his datapad. He could finish reading in flight to Telos; right now he
was more in need of meditation. He would conquer this. He would. Any other
outcome was simply not acceptable.
If the few minutes after Xanatos had awakened had been difficult, the
evening was turning out to be sheer torture. Given the upcoming mission and the
reprimand he'd received that morning, Xanatos had chosen to stay in for the
evening.
Trust his apprentice to choose the absolute worst time to be
overly dutiful. Of course, it was exactly the right thing to do. Xanatos would
be well-rested for the mission, and Master Yoda, who was no doubt keeping track
of Xanatos' whereabouts, would perhaps be mollified by the boy's decision.
Unfortunately, neither of these things was helping Qui-Gon deal with his
desire for his student. The errant thoughts he had when Xanatos wasn't around
were difficult enough, especially combined with his knowledge of Xanatos'
activities and now even his dreams.
None of that compared to having his
padawan underfoot. How was he supposed to concentrate with Xanatos lounging on
the couch, showing far too much skin and eating khana fruit?
Qui-Gon
barely managed to suppress a groan as Xanatos finished the juicy piece of fruit
and began licking his fingers one by one, silky pink tongue darting out across
the tip of a finger, remaining in view longer to slide its way up the long
length of each digit.
Just as Qui-Gon was considering crossing the room
and ripping his student's clothes off, Xanatos rose and strode off into the
kitchen, the tantalizing sway of his hips testing Qui-Gon's resolve once again.
By the time Xanatos returned, still drying his hands on a towel, Qui-Gon had
decided it was time for a hasty retreat to deal with his problem on his own.
He stood, quickly putting things away. "Is something wrong, Master?"
Xanatos asked, changing course and coming to stand next to his teacher.
Qui-Gon took a step backwards, covering the action by reaching for a
data chip on the shelf behind him. "Nothing is wrong," he answered as he stuffed
the chip blindly into the pack. "I'm very tired, and I'll need to be well-rested
for the mission, so I think I'll get some sleep now."
Even to his own
ears he sounded like a babbling fool, but if Xanatos noticed, he said nothing
about it. "Here. I'll finish packing this up. You go to bed."
The low,
seductive voice, combined with the sizzle of heat as Xanatos' hand grazed his
own as the young man took the pack from him, ripped away any protest Qui-Gon
might have made, along with the last of his composure. "Thank you," he said
huskily, then he hurried off to his room.
As his door shut behind him,
he was stripping off his clothes. He locked strong shields firmly in place in
his mind as he threw himself on the bed and reached for his erection. His hand
wrapped tightly around the rock hard shaft and began pumping it mercilessly as
he unlocked all his carefully hidden visions.
Xanatos, in the throes of
passion, and a faceless man thrusting into him as his padawan moaned in ecstasy.
That same man, now being thoroughly used by Xanatos as he uttered low words
describing everything he wanted to do to his willing partner.
Another
vision, this time of Xanatos receiving pleasure from one man while pleasuring
another. The thought of so many others having had his Xanatos both angered
Qui-Gon and aroused him at the same time.
His mind drifted to the newest
images, those from Xanatos' dream that morning. Qui-Gon's hand sped up as he
recalled the sheer bliss on Xanatos' face, the passion in the single word
'Master' whispered repeatedly.
Finally, his thoughts rested on the one
erotic image that was real--Xanatos licking juice from his fingers moments ago.
Qui-Gon replayed the slow glide of that tongue as it moved up each finger,
leaving no part of it untouched.
He imagined that tongue trailing liquid
fire up the length of his needy shaft. Would Xanatos be as thorough as he had
been with his fingers? Would he taste every millimeter of skin there until
Qui-Gon was mindless with need, coherent thought beyond him?
Or would he
quickly cover the entire length, taking it deep inside his mouth, surrounding
Qui-Gon in wet heat and then sucking his very life out of him through that one
small opening in his body?
His climax took him by surprise, a hoarse
shout escaping his mouth. Qui-Gon lay there for several moments, gasping for
breath as the waves of pleasure slowly calmed.
When he finally felt he
could stand without his knees crumbling beneath him, he rose from the bed and
moved rather shakily toward the shower, hoping that release would be enough to
see him through the mission. Force help them both if it wasn't.
He was going to die from the pleasure, he was sure of it. Qui-Gon shivered
as he fell against the wall behind him, the cool durasteel supporting his back
at odds with the intense heat in his body.
The heat was due to his
padawan, who was currently focused on Qui-Gon's erection and doing everything he
could to increase the temperature further. He laced his hands through Xanatos'
close-cropped hair, holding him there, thrusting into his mouth, climbing closer
and closer toward release.
Qui-Gon awoke with a start, gasping, his
climax too close to stop now. He gripped his erection relentlessly, letting the
dream play back through his mind as he slipped over the edge, release flowing
through his body, easing the tension that had preceded it.
He threw his
arm over his eyes, unwilling to face reality just yet. His heart rate and his
breathing slowed as the sweat cooled on his body, and still he lay there, eyes
covered. How could he go on this last mission and not reveal himself?
The answer came swiftly--because he must. Xanatos would be a Jedi
Knight. And Qui-Gon would be his master until that happened. Whatever might
happen after would have to be put out of mind until then.
He was a Jedi
Master. He had the ability to control this. Now he had to find it--fast.
Suppressing a sigh, he threw back the covers back and slipped to the
floor to meditate.
Morning dawned, and Qui-Gon found himself reluctant to leave the relative
safety of his room. Yoda had found a pilot with a cargo ship full of droids who
was willing to take them to Telos. Hopefully the ship would be large enough to
keep some distance between himself and his padawan.
Living in close
quarters with the young man was tough enough, even with outside distractions
keeping them both occupied. Being stuck onboard a ship with him would prove to
be a difficult challenge.
A knock at his bedroom door had him sliding
into his robe even before he heard the soft voice on the other side. "Master, we
must leave if we're going to meet the ship."
"Coming," Qui-Gon called.
He winced at his choice of words. This would be a difficult journey indeed.
The ship was large enough, though not as large as Qui-Gon had hoped. The
pilot, a humanoid who looked to be about Xanatos' age, met them at the hatch
with a smile. "Stieg Wa," he said, nodding in response to their slight bows.
"That's my name, by the way, not some kind of odd greeting or anything. Welcome
aboard."
"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Xanatos."
"Right, the Jedi. " He laughed, a brash sound that echoed off the metal
walls of the hallways he was guiding them through. "As if I'd be picking up any
other kind of passenger at a Jedi Temple."
Qui-Gon ducked through one of
the many doorways set at random intervals in the halls. "Do you pick up many
passengers?" He hadn't been able to sense any other life forms on board.
Stieg Wa shook his head. "I usually carry cargo only--much safer than
passengers. Cargo is predictable. Well, most of the time." He turned and grinned
at them as he stopped. "This is your room. Sorry I only have one, but like I
said, I don't usually have passengers. I owed Master Yoda, though, so here you
are."
"One room will be fine," Qui-Gon said politely as the pilot moved
away, calling over his shoulder for them to join him in the cockpit when they
were settled.
Mentally, he cursed his former master as he followed
Xanatos into the room. With an effort, he released his anger into the Force. He
could feel the curious gaze of his padawan, but he refused to meet the younger
man's eyes.
If it were possible, he would ignore Xanatos for the whole
week it would take them to get to Telos. But he couldn't ignore his student.
Even though he was ready to be a knight, there was still much for the young man
to learn. And much he could teach his master as well.
Thoughts and
sensations assailed him, vivid enough to stop him mid-stride. Xanatos' dream
from the previous day was the most prevalent, having replayed itself so many
times in Qui-Gon's mind he imagined he could feel each thrust of the young body
into his.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon jolted back into reality. Xanatos
was staring at him, blue eyes wide, lips parted slightly. Try as he might,
Qui-Gon couldn't pull his focus away from those wet, inviting lips.
"Is
something wrong, Master?" His voice was slightly breathless, and through their
training bond, Qui-Gon could feel Xanatos' growing arousal, no doubt fed by his
master's emotions.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon regained enough control to slam his
shields back in place. Xanatos gasped as he was released from the assault of his
Master's feelings.
"Master?" he said again. "What--?"
"Excuse
me, Padawan, I must go find...." He stopped, unable to think of any excuse to
leave beyond the truth--and that was the one thing he couldn't say. "I'll meet
you in the cockpit in twenty minutes."
Ignoring the confusion on his
student's face, Qui-Gon hurried out the door. He tried three of the doors around
their room before he found one that was unlocked. He opened it, relieved to see
it was the bathroom he'd sought.
He locked the door quickly behind
himself, jerking his leggings down and grabbing his erection unmercifully. His
mind recalled those soft, inviting lips, committing every crease in them to
memory as he quickly brought himself to orgasm.
Gasping, Qui-Gon leaned
back against the wall and slid down onto the cool floor. He tilted his head back
and rested it against the wall, eyes closed. He was an adult, a Jedi Master, and
he was jerking off in a bathroom like a teenager. He had to do something.
The trouble was, he was beginning to think there was only one cure. And
he would not, could not even contemplate that action.
Once he had composed himself into the image of the calm Jedi Master, Qui-Gon
made his way to the cockpit. As he approached, he could sense a growing
irritation in his padawan.
Frowning, he slowed as he drew close enough
to hear the conversation. "Well, kid, I don't know about that cushy Temple of
yours, but out here in the real galaxy, we have to pay our way, and therefore we
take the quickest route possible. So we fly through pirate territory."
"It only takes four more days to go around," Xanatos said in a sulky
voice Qui-Gon barely recognized.
"And those four days add up to at least
one less shipment I can make a month, not to mention the wasted fuel. I didn't
get to be where I am by playing it safe. But don't worry, I'm not stupid either.
We'll be fine."
"I know we will be," Xanatos snapped. "Just don't
expect us to protect you!"
"Xanatos!" Qui-Gon took the last few steps
into the room.
His apprentice's head whipped around, anger quickly
replaced by shame. "Master!"
"Apologize to Stieg Wa." He waited while
the younger Jedi made a suitably contrite apology, then continued, "Perhaps you
should go finish unpacking." Given the few belongings they traveled with, that
really wasn't necessary, but it would help his apprentice save face. Ordering
him to his room would do nothing to help the situation.
"Yes, Master."
Xanatos nodded to Stieg Wa, bowed to his master, and left.
Qui-Gon
turned to the pilot. "He has been under a great deal of stress with his trials
approaching."
"Trials? What'd he do, kill somebody for taking the long
way around town?"
"These trials are the final test to become a Jedi
Knight, something he's worked his whole life for." Qui-Gon forced the annoyance
out of his voice. "It can be a difficult time."
The pilot shrugged.
"Sure, whatever. No skin off my back if the kid gets a little testy. I was
meaner than a rabid bantha the last week before I tested for my pilot's license.
Just don't expect me to treat him any different."
"Of course. It will be
a good lesson for him in holding his temper," Qui-Gon said with a smile. He
watched as Stieg Wa began checking instruments on the wall panels. "Is something
wrong?"
"Looks like everything's fine. Just checking it over." He
pointed to a row of instruments. "These go to the cloaking device. And those,"
he said, indicating another row, "go to an alarm to warn me about approaching
ships. We're going to need both of those things fully functional if we run
across trouble."
Qui-Gon nodded. "It seems you have everything under
control--not that I expected anything less--so if you don't mind, I'm going to
go have a talk with my apprentice." The pilot waved a hand in dismissal, so
Qui-Gon turned and left to seek out his padawan.
Qui-Gon paused at the door of their room, his hand above the entry keypad,
and took a deep breath before entering the code. He stopped short just inside
the door; his apprentice had done a thorough job of the task he had been
assigned, he couldn't argue that. Clothing was scattered all over one of the two
small beds. Xanatos sat in the middle of the mess, accusing eyes raised toward
his master. "Is there another task you wish me to perform, Lord Master?"
Stunned, Qui-Gon bristled at the cold anger in his apprentice's voice.
"That's quite enough, Padawan," he barked. "I'll not have you take that tone
with me."
"You ordered me out of there! In front of that pilot!
The man will be treating me like a nothing the rest of the trip--as if he wasn't
rude enough to me before!"
"Padawan! That is quite enough." Qui-Gon
stared in shock at the younger man. "The only one I saw being rude was you."
"I was simply informing the man that we could make it safely to Telos
without flying right through the middle of pirate territory."
"You told
him we would not protect him," Qui-Gon countered, crossing to stand over his
student. "We are sworn to protect, Xanatos. I don't care what you think of Stieg
Wa's decisions; if it becomes necessary, you will protect him."
"Of
course I will, Master," Xanatos answered immediately. "I wouldn't really leave
the fool to die. Not that he wouldn't deserve it for getting us into the mess in
the first place."
Qui-Gon frowned down at him. "What has gotten into
you?"
The harsh laugh he received in response drew Qui-Gon down to sit
next to the young man. Dark blue eyes just inches from his own clouded with
something other than the anger that had filled them moments earlier. "Really,
Master, do you have to ask?"
Answers crowded Qui-Gon's mind, some of
them too vivid for his own good, but he squelched them all, choosing to pretend
ignorance. "If it's bothering you this much, then yes, I do."
That
hollow laugh rang out again. "Which is the greater sin, Master, being rude, or
lying?" When Qui-Gon could find no response, Xanatos leaned closer, lowering his
voice to a near whisper. "Do not tell me to be the model of a perfect padawan
while silently asking me to be anything but."
Qui-Gon swallowed
painfully. His own forbidden desires were to blame for Xanatos' riotous
emotions. The next seven days spread out before him, one long nightmare of
trying to fight his own demons as well as quell the reactions they caused in his
padawan.
The answer seemed so simple in that moment. He could lean
forward, capture those lips taunting him so close to his own. Take what he
wanted, what he now knew they both wanted, and the volatile emotions would calm.
Such an easy solution. Such a pleasurable solution. He leaned forward
until his lips were almost there, savoring the sweet breath from the mouth so
close, tasting it, anticipating the next taste he would have.
A knock at
the door brought him back to his senses. He pulled back suddenly, scarcely able
to believe what he'd been about to do.
"Midday meal will be served in my
office, right next to the cockpit, in five minutes," Stieg Wa called through the
door. "Be there, or be very hungry until evening meal."
The muted sound
of the pilot's footsteps faded quickly, leaving the two Jedi in silence for a
long moment. "Master, I--"
"We must go," Qui-Gon interrupted, hurrying
to the door. "It wouldn't do to be late."
He waited, hand on the door
controls, until he heard the rustle of fabrics as his apprentice rose from the
bed. "Yes, Master." Qui-Gon ignored the sulky tone that once again laced the
young man's voice. Considering that his own actions had put it there, there was
little he could say that would help. He opened the door and turned down the
hallway without looking back.
Midday meal was one of the most uncomfortable experiences Qui-Gon could
remember. Stieg Wa told them a little about himself, the route they were
traveling, and the ship. Qui-Gon listened with interest, or at least appeared
to. The majority of his mind was still trying to come to terms with the scene
with his padawan in their room.
Xanatos ate quickly, paying little
attention to the pilot's chatter, but not going so far as to be openly rude.
Even if Qui-Gon couldn't sense the young Jedi's emotions through their training
bond, the tightness around the corners of his mouth and the barely-veiled anger
in his eyes would have given them away. The two of them were going to have to
have a talk. Just as soon as Qui-Gon figured out what to say.
Pushing
those thoughts aside for now, Qui-Gon turned his attention back to Stieg Wa. "Of
course, like every old ship, she has her drawbacks. I never had her fitted with
sonics, since I prefer a nice, long soak in real hot water myself. I keep an
extra tub in the 'guest' bathroom, just in case, so you can bathe. Water's
short, though, so I'll be cutting back, and you'll only be able to fill it
halfway once a day."
Qui-Gon felt a sharp rise in Xanatos' emotion, saw
the look in his eyes, and decided it would be prudent to get his apprentice out
of the room before another fight with the pilot ensued. "I'm sure we can make
do," Qui-Gon told Stieg Wa. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll excuse us;
it's time for our afternoon katas."
"Sure. Evening meal's in here as
well. I'll hunt you down when it's ready."
The Jedi Master nodded
absently, his attention on Xanatos, who clearly knew he was being handled and
didn't like it. "Padawan, shall we?" After a moment's pause, Xanatos nodded
curtly to the pilot and followed his master out of the room.
The two Jedi walked slowly to their room, footsteps echoing off metal in the
silence. Neither seemed anxious to arrive at their destination. The near kiss
from that afternoon hung over them like a heavy cloud. As they reached the door,
Qui-Gon was still searching for a solution to their problem that didn't involve
simply giving in, but the answer eluded him. How could he start the discussion
when he didn't have the answers? He needed more perspective.
His mind
made up, he turned to his padawan at the door. "I want you to go inside and
meditate on your anger. Find the source and resolve it." He held up his hand
when Xanatos would have spoken. "Stay here. I expect to see a vast improvement
in your actions when I return." With that, Qui-Gon turned and strode off down
the hallway, trusting his apprentice to go into the room and do as he was told.
He didn't stop until he reached a large cargo hold as far from his room
and his apprentice as he could get. There was limited space in the hold, but it
was enough to do some of the more restrictive katas if he didn't use his
lightsaber.
Two hours later, Qui-Gon collapsed onto the floor in a
sweaty heap. The familiar exercises had helped calm his mind, and he was ready
to see if meditation could bring him the answers he sought. He shifted into a
position more conducive to meditation, legs crossed, arms resting lightly on his
thighs. Eyes closed, he let the Force flow through him as his mind drifted
without conscious direction.
He wanted Xanatos. An obvious fact, but he
needed a place to start, and the blunt admission was as good a place as any.
Master/Padawan infatuations were not uncommon, from either side of the
relationship. But they generally occurred earlier in the apprenticeship.
These feelings for his padawan were fairly new. Only a few months
before, they had been working in a training room at the Temple. Qui-Gon had
corrected a sloppy defense move by his student, and as the young man repeated
the move, Qui-Gon's attention had been more on the ripple of young, strong
muscles beneath pale, silky skin than the skill they were working on. He'd had
to have Xanatos repeat the move three more times before he'd been able to pay
enough attention to declare it passable.
That night, the dreams had
begun. His subconscious seemed to be unable to stop seeking out Xanatos when the
young man was engaged in his pleasurable pursuits. It was as if he was tuned
directly into his apprentice's emotions, and the moment he sensed Xanatos was
aroused, Qui-Gon couldn't stop himself from having a look.
He'd told
himself it was a reaction to Xanatos' impending knighthood, an attempt to find a
way to hold on to his student, that his physical reaction was just because it
had been so long since he'd been intimate with another person. So he'd gone out
and found a very accommodating man, and thought about Xanatos the whole time, no
matter how hard he'd tried to keep his mind on the man beneath him. When that
didn't stop him from obsessing, Qui-Gon tried sleeping with a woman, with the
same results. Finally he'd had to face facts; he wanted Xanatos.
Which
left him in the same place he'd started--enamored with his padawan and without
and idea what to do about it. Unless...no, he could not give in, not even now
that he knew Xanatos felt the same.
His thoughts went back again to the
snippets of the dream he'd intercepted, focusing on the intense desire he'd
sensed from the younger man as he'd dreamed of taking his master, and the
answering desire it awakened in him.
All thought of meditating on a
solution left him. He tried desperately to center himself as his fingers itched
to grab his erection and relieve the pressure the mere thought of his apprentice
created. His hands, however, seemed to have a mind of their own, creeping across
his thighs, moving down--
"Master?"
Qui-Gon jerked out of his
meditation, staring up into the clouded eyes of his apprentice. "Padawan! Did I
not tell you to stay in our room?"
"Yes, Master." The words, the low
voice, thick with an emotion Qui-Gon couldn't quite put his finger on, cut
straight to the core of him. "But I felt something...a call...through the
Force." The younger man knelt suddenly, his hand falling to Qui-Gon's thigh,
nearly sending the Jedi Master running from the room. Xanatos' tongue snaked
out, wetting his lips. "Is...is everything all right, Master?"
"I'm
fine, Padawan." Qui-Gon paused to clear his throat, trying not to stare at the
tempting mouth. "You should go back and finish your meditations."
Xanatos settled on his knees and tucked his legs beneath him. His hands
rested more firmly on his master's thigh. "I have found the source of my
turmoil, Master."
A raised eyebrow was Qui-Gon's only reply. He didn't
trust his voice enough to speak. The warmth of Xanatos' hands had quickly spread
to his now painful erection. "I wonder though, Master...do you feel it too? Is
that the call I felt?"
Midnight blue eyes burned into his, not so much
demanding the truth as daring him to lie. Qui-Gon stared wordlessly, losing
himself as that look changed to one of certainty. He sat there, frozen, as
Xanatos leaned closer, inviting pink lips moving in until they captured
Qui-Gon's in a soft, probing kiss.
Hands that had been intent on
stroking his own flesh now reached for his padawan. They slid up the young man's
forearms to the muscular biceps, tracing every muscle he'd been responsible for
forming.
He reached for Xanatos' neck to pull him closer, intent on
dragging him down until they were lying on the floor together, until they could
be pressed against each other from head to toe.
"Hey, Jedi!" Stieg Wa's
voice rang out from the corridor outside the cargo hold.
Qui-Gon pushed
his student away and jumped to his feet, shocked at his own behavior, but
Xanatos smiled up at him, completely unashamed.
Stieg Wa entered the
room. "Master Jinn, I've been looking for you all over the ship. There's a
communication from Master Yoda."
"Thank you." Qui-Gon replied, sparing
the pilot a glance. "I'll be right there."
Stieg Wa nodded and left.
Qui-Gon turned his attention back to his student. "We'll talk about this later,"
he said quietly.
"Yes, Master." The smile on Xanatos' mouth widened.
"For now, stay here and run through some katas. Use the exercise to
release your anger with Stieg Wa. I trust you will not let his barbs get to you
again?"
Xanatos shook his head, still smiling. "No, Master."
"Good. Now, get to work."
"As it pleases you, Master," his
apprentice replied as he stood, the proper phrase taking on volumes of meaning
when combined with the look on his face.
Qui-Gon turned and left before
the promise in those words could entice him to stay.
For the next two days, Xanatos was as good as his word. Stieg Wa's
continuous teasing was met with a smile and silence, but no anger. Though Jedi
were not supposed to feel pride, Qui-Gon took a certain amount of pleasure in
the quick attitude change. He would make a fine knight soon.
It was the
only pleasure the Jedi Master would allow himself. Despite Xanatos' obvious
frustration, and his own slightly better hidden desires, he refused to give into
what he wanted. What they both wanted. But it was getting more and more
difficult.
On the third morning, Qui-Gon was running through katas in
the cargo hold when he sensed a sudden spike of danger through the Force. He
barely had time to get to the door before an explosion rocked the ship, sending
crates of droids smashing to the ground, the broken boxes cluttering the space
where he'd been exercising moments before. More blasts slammed into the ship as
ran to the cockpit. Xanatos hovered just outside the control area, watching
Stieg Wa intently. The pilot banged on controls on the wall for a moment,
scowled, then jumped into his chair and began steering them in all different
directions.
"What happened?" Qui-Gon asked, unable to stop himself, even
if the pilot did need to concentrate.
"Pirates," Stieg Wa responded
grimly.
"Pirates? I thought you turned the cloaking device on when we
entered their space."
"I did."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Then how did
they find us?"
"The cloaking device wasn't working. The indicators were
on, but the device itself had been tampered with." He glared over his shoulder
at Xanatos, making it clear who he thought had deactivated the system.
"I told you, I didn't touch your cloaking device!" the younger Jedi
protested. "Or anything else on your ship! You know, if you'd just stop being so
stubborn and surrender to them we might make it out of this alive."
Stieg Wa shot Xanatos a heated glare. "Listen, kid, the next time I want
your advice--"
"Now is not the time to argue about this," Qui-Gon
interrupted. "Can we help, Stieg Wa?"
"Just stay out of my way. That'll
be help enough."
The two Jedi stood just outside the cockpit, hanging
onto handles built into the wall for a moment before Qui-Gon stepped inside.
Despite the ungracious reception of his offer to help, he couldn't help himself.
"He's coming up on the starboard side."
There was only the briefest
flicker of hesitation before Stieg Wa moved to counter the unseen ship. After
another warning from the Jedi Master kept them from a close call, Stieg Wa
grimly indicated the co-pilot's seat. Qui-Gon took the seat, careful to keep his
hands off the stick and offer verbal comments only. Grabbing control from an
unsuspecting pilot never accomplished anything.
Finally Stieg Wa managed
to elude the pirates and sat back in his chair, surveying the panels in front of
him. "We're going to need some repairs before we can go back to full power. I'm
afraid you're going to be a little late getting to Telos."
"That can't
be helped," Qui-Gon said immediately. "What can we do?"
"You're welcome
to help me with the repairs," the pilot said, nodding at Qui-Gon. "But I want
your student here to keep his hands off my ship. He's done enough damage
already!"
"But I--"
Qui-Gon silenced his apprentice with a look.
"Why don't you wait for me in our room?" After a pause, the young man nodded
stiffly and stalked off. "What proof do you have that he sabotaged your ship?"
"Proof? Nothing beyond the fact that you two are the only other ones on
here."
"Oh? Why him? Why not me?"
He laughed. "Because you
didn't even notice when I told you the wrong panels for the cloak and the
warning device. Both of them were tampered with--not from the cockpit--and by
someone who knows a lot more about mechanics than you. I'm betting your
apprentice knows a lot about them."
"He does. But that still doesn't
mean he did it."
"Well unless we've got ghosts running around here that
I don't know about...."
The Jedi master thought for a moment. "You say
the tampering wasn't in the cockpit? Where was it?"
"Near the back of
the ship. The source of power for both devices was rerouted so only power to the
indicator lights worked."
"And you checked this before leaving port to
pick us up?"
The pilot blinked. "Well...no. I checked it when I docked
at home because I was reading some power fluctuations. But I don't normally
check that on a pre-flight unless the ship's been damaged. It's not something
that goes wrong on a ship."
"So it could have been tampered with at any
time since you last docked at your home port."
"In theory, yes. But--"
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I suggest you take great care before
accusing Jedi--or anyone else for that matter--of acts of sabotage. I understand
you and Xanatos don't get along, and that would make him your main suspect from
your past experience. But I've known him all his life, and he would not do such
a thing."
Their gazes clashed for long moments, then Stieg Wa nodded. "I
will make sure I have more proof before I accuse anyone again." His eyes were
shrouded, as if he was afraid to say more.
Qui-Gon excused himself and
made his way to his room. Xanatos was sitting on the bed, but he jumped up as
his master walked in. "Master, I would never be so foolish as to sabotage a ship
I was on. Surely he must see that?"
"I know, Xanatos. It's all right. I
believe the ship was tampered with before he left his home to pick us up."
The young man sighed in relief. "I was afraid he would convince you I
was guilty."
"Do you think I know you so little? Have some faith in me."
"No, Master, it's just that lately...."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes
for a moment. They did not have time to deal with this properly now. But he
couldn't let it go. "Lately?"
"You...no, we have both been...not
ourselves."
An understatement. "You're right. But now is not the time to
talk about it. We need to help Stieg Wa."
Xanatos' lower lip slipped out
further, testing Qui-Gon's resolve to put duty over desires yet again. "He will
not let me help."
"I'm sure we can get him to find something for you to
do. Let's go talk to him." He turned, his padawan falling in line beside him as
they traced their way through the halls back to the cockpit.
Stieg Wa was reluctant to allow Xanatos to touch his ship, but after a
little pushing on Qui-Gon's part, he relented.
"You can fix the wiring
in cargo hold B. Part of the auxiliary power's been damaged--one of the blasts
from the pirates hit it, but it's fixable."
Xanatos nodded and turned to
leave. Stieg Wa placed a hand on his arm to stop him. "I'll be checking your
work after you're through, so no funny business."
The young Jedi
stiffened slightly, as he met the pilot's cool gaze with anger, then he gained
control. No emotion showed on his face as he nodded again and left.
A
small smile formed on Qui-Gon's face as he watched his apprentice's retreating
form. Xanatos had learned much about controlling his anger on this journey.
Perhaps that was the lesson Yoda had wanted him to learn.
He roused
himself out of his musings and turned back to Stieg Wa. "What can I do to help?"
"The damage in the last cargo hold was more than just me losing some of
my shipment." Both men began walking toward the back of the ship as he spoke.
"The boxes are piled on a vent that needs to be clear to allow ventilation. If I
go to full speed with that stuff lying there, the engine could eventually
overheat, the boxes would catch on fire--you get the idea?"
"You need
the boxes moved," Qui-Gon said dryly, summing up the long explanation.
"Right. There's a loader in the storage area, if you can get to it. I'm
sorry I don't have any droids that can help you, but I never did trust those
things much. They can be reprogrammed. I'll haul 'em, but I try to avoid using
them. Besides," he added as they reached an intersection in the maze of hallways
and stopped, "I kind of like doing the work myself."
"I understand. And
don't worry, I think I can handle moving boxes."
Stieg Wa looked down at
the floor, his cheeks tinged with pink. "I realize it's probably bad form to
give a Jedi Master a menial task, but everything else that needs to be done is
technical work, and you can't even tell one set of indicator lights from the
other."
Qui-Gon smiled. "We frequently get handed 'menial work,'" he
responded. "We serve the Force in whatever way is needed."
"Then I'll
just say 'thank you' and let you get to work." The pilot returned Qui-Gon's
smile and walked off, leaving Qui-Gon to head the opposite direction toward the
cargo hold.
Qui-Gon moved unsteadily down the hall, exhaustion hampering his usual
grace. He stumbled, and only a quick tug with the Force kept him from spilling
the tray in his hands. The physical and mental exertion of moving the damaged
materials in the cargo hold, combined with his lack of sleep over the past week,
had him in a near sleep-walk state. He had to sleep before they arrived at
Telos. Or the pirates came back. Or he fell over trying to walk.
Finally, he made it to the room he shared with his apprentice. He
stopped outside the door to center himself, then went inside. Xanatos was there,
sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. He started to get up, but Qui-Gon shook
his head. "Stay where you are," Qui-Gon said as he sat the tray down on a small
table at the foot of the bed, then settled onto the floor next to it. "Evening
meal," he explained unnecessarily.
"The bed is far more comfortable than
the floor, Master," Xanatos said as they both began to eat. "Will you not sit
beside me?"
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth quirked up as he waved a hand
toward his own body. "The bed would be far less comfortable to sleep in if I
were to transfer even a portion of all this dirt onto it." Even though he had
used the Force to move the most of the rubble, dirt and dust had been
everywhere, and the more objects he moved, the more clouded the air around him
had become. "I've come through sandstorms cleaner than this."
Xanatos
smiled. "Stieg Wa stopped by long enough to say we could use a full tub of water
this evening. Shall I draw you a bath?"
"You go first. I fear the water
will be completely unusable by the time I finish."
"Are you sure?"
Qui-Gon nodded, trying to ignore the pang of desire that slid through him as he
watched his apprentice gather his things and leave the room, the silent grace of
the movements enough to affect him in his present state. How could he possibly
control himself in the time it would take to complete this mission? He could
barely manage half the trip to Telos!
He settled himself into a
comfortable position and fell into a light meditative trance, hoping to find the
answers he needed. Master/padawan relationships were frowned upon, but mostly
ignored unless it caused problems in training. So what kept him from simply
giving in? Was it his own perverse need to be the perfect Jedi? Even the
detachment he had sought from the trance couldn't keep Qui-Gon from frowning at
that. It was not his conscious wish to be perfect. Yet he strived for it daily
without a second thought. But this hesitation was more than just that need to
excel. Something inside of him balked at taking the final step. If only he could
figure out what it was.
A knock at the door brought him out of the
trance. "Enter."
Stieg Wa opened the door and stepped inside, leaning
against the door jamb. "All of the repairs are done except for one. I need to go
outside the ship to do it, and there's a meteor storm right now."
Qui-Gon could hear the occasional ping of meteors striking the hull of
the ship. "Are we in danger?"
Stieg Wa shook his head. "They're not big
enough to do any damage to the ship, but they'd rip a hole in a space suit in a
heartbeat. Meteor storms are common in this sector and usually last for several
hours; it'll be clear by morning, and I'll be able to finish. Then we'll hit
full power and be out of this damned system."
"Very well," Qui-Gon
nodded, only then noticing the stiffness in his neck. He checked the time and
realized he'd been in his trance far longer than he'd thought. What was taking
Xanatos so long? "We'll see you in the morning, then?" he said, returning his
attention to Stieg Wa.
"Bright and early," the pilot responded with a
grin. "Have a good sleep," he added as he left, closing the door behind him.
"It certainly would be a refreshing change," Qui-Gon muttered as he
rose, his legs protesting the movement. He should go check on his padawan. Just
a quick peek in the door to see if the young man was all right. Certainly he
could handle that.
Resolve hardened and shields up tight, he left their
room and went to the bathroom. The door was unlocked, so he opened it quietly
and looked in. Xanatos was still in the bathtub, eyes closed, sound asleep. His
hair was damp, black strands clinging to his forehead, such a contrast to the
pale, almost translucent skin. One long leg hung over the side of the tub, as
did a slender arm. How anyone could manage to look so elegant asleep in a
bathtub was beyond Qui-Gon.
He swallowed hard before he cleared his
throat. "Xanatos." The word came out in a hoarse whisper, despite his attempts
to make his voice sound normal. "Xanatos," he said again, his voice stronger and
clearer this time.
The young man stirred, dark lashes at the ends of
white eyelids fluttering open to reveal deep blue eyes. "Master?" He shook his
head and sat up, the leg disappearing back into the tub. "I'm sorry, I must have
fallen asleep."
"It's all right, Padawan. We're both tired."
"Yes, Master." The words were emphatic, and Qui-Gon got the sense he
meant more than just physically tired. Then Xanatos stood, and Qui-Gon lost the
ability to speak. He'd seen that body in his dreams, in his apprentice's dreams,
but it had been a while since he'd seen it in the flesh. He found himself
instantly hard, his body on fire as he stared at the young man before him,
watching the play of muscles beneath skin that begged to be touched, possessed,
marked....
His arousal must have seeped through his shields and along
the bond. Xanatos stopped in the middle of drying his hair and turned dark eyes
smoldering with an answering flame toward his Master. Even if Qui-Gon hadn't
seen the arousal in the younger man's eyes, and felt it through their bond, the
thick shaft jutting out from his hips would have given his padawan away. Not
that he seemed anxious to hide any of the signs. "I'll wait in the other room,"
Qui-Gon said quickly, rushing out the door before he could reach out and grab
what he wanted.
Qui-Gon gathered his things quickly, ready to leave as
soon as Xanatos was finished. When his apprentice returned to the room, Qui-Gon
lowered his eyes as he brushed past the young man, glad of the clothing in his
hands, certain he would not have been able to resist touching him if his hands
had been free.
He made it to the bathroom before he allowed the full
extent of Xanatos' affect on him hit him. His knees gave out, the door
supporting his back as he sunk to the floor, eyes closed, breath coming fast. He
was doomed. Not even Master Yoda's controls could withstand this kind of
assault.
But he would fight it as long as he could. He opened his eyes
and stood, stripping off the layers of clothes as he crossed the short distance
to the tub. Surprise registered as he saw there was steam rising from the water.
He thought back carefully and realized Xanatos had only had about half a tub of
water. His padawan must have filled the tub the rest of the way before returning
to their room, so his master would have hot water.
Affection for the
young man grew inside him, mixing with the desire until it became almost
impossible to resist the urge to go next door and claim what he knew would be
his one day. But not yet. He pulled off the last of his clothing and sank into
the water, sighing from pure physical pleasure as the heat instantly soothed the
aches in his muscles from his earlier exertion. He drifted along for a while,
neither asleep nor awake, just living in every moment with no thought to the
next. He had no idea how long he had been in there when his padawan's presence
disrupted his peace. His eyes opened, meeting the younger man's gaze instantly,
fighting against the fire he found there.
Neither of them spoke for a
long moment, then Xanatos slowly moved forward. "You were gone so long I thought
you might have fallen asleep as well." The words were low and seductive, despite
the innocent meaning.
"I...I was meditating." His padawan stood directly
over the bathtub now, but Qui-Gon made no move to conceal himself. Xanatos' eyes
moved down the length of his body, lingering on the obvious erection.
"Meditating on what exactly, Master?" There was amusement in the
voice, and something else.
Determination.
Qui-Gon took a deep
breath as his padawan slipped off his tunic and reached for the drawstring on
his pants, pulling the tie loose in a slow, mesmerizing motion. At that moment,
he couldn't have moved if ten fleets of pirates had attacked the ship. He could
only sit and watch, anticipation barely allowing him to keep from pulling the
young man into the water, pants and all.
At last, the pants slid down
the length of those beautiful white legs, past his line of sight. Xanatos
stepped out of them, then moved to sit on the edge of the tub, bracing one hand
on either side and leaning down, closer and closer to his target. "The time for
running has passed, Qui-Gon," he whispered, his lips not quite touching those of
his master.
With a groan, Qui-Gon reached up and pulled on the back of
his apprentice's head, bringing those lips down to meet his own. His mouth was
devoured as Xanatos invaded with his tongue, demanding complete surrender and
finding it, kissing him with an almost brutal intensity. Qui-Gon heard himself
whimper as Xanatos pulled away, but the younger man simply smiled as he rose
enough to step into the water, settling himself with one leg on either side of
his master.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, biting his lip to keep himself from
coming right then and there. Xanatos seemed to sense his need to gain control
before continuing, waiting until Qui-Gon's eyes opened and he reached for his
apprentice, pulling him down for another kiss.
Nothing, not any of the
dreams he'd had, none of the situations he'd visited through Xanatos' eyes, had
prepared him for the reality of that smooth skin sliding along his, the water
easing the friction, and at the same time increasing the sensation. He could
feel every hair, every goose bump, every skin cell wherever he touched his
padawan. And he touched everywhere he could. His hands couldn't get enough of
that skin, running down his padawan's back, across the tight cheeks down to the
back of his legs and up again to move to his chest. The Jedi master circled one
of the younger man's nipple with his finger, feeling it harden into a stiff
peak. But he wanted more.
Qui-Gon pulled away from the kiss, lips moving
down Xanatos' chin to nibble on his neck, taking small nips until he worked his
way around to the juncture of the young man's neck and shoulder. There he
stopped, sucking hard on the skin, determined to mark the paleness with his own
dark brand, savoring the feeling as his apprentice arched against him, crying
out with pleasure.
At last he pulled back and looked at the red patch,
decided it would do, and continued his journey, raising his apprentice up higher
onto his lap, intent on reaching those dark nipples with his mouth. Their
erections slid against each other as Xanatos rose higher, tearing loud gasps
from both of them. Qui-Gon found one nipple with his mouth and began to worship
it with his tongue, tracing circles around it, teasing the hard nub there,
worrying it with his lips.
Xanatos laced his fingers through Qui-Gon's
hair, his hold so tight it hurt. The pain aroused Qui-Gon further, and he sought
to return the favor, biting down on the tip of the nipple in his mouth and
tugging gently, causing just enough pain to quicken the pace of Xanatos' hips as
he rocked against his master, the motion shooting flames through Qui-Gon's
entire body. He longed to sheath himself inside the willing body he held, to
bury himself in that warmth.
His padawan caught the intent of that
thought and smiled, reaching behind himself and inserting one finger in his own
tight opening, closing his eyes in pleasure as he slid his own finger in and
out. The shocking action pushed Qui-Gon beyond the point of no return, his lips
capturing Xanatos' as he replaced the young man's finger with two of his own. He
swallowed his apprentice's groan as two fingers became three and Xanatos pushed
himself as far down on those fingers as he could. "More," he sighed against his
master's lips.
Qui-Gon removed his fingers and lifted Xanatos up,
positioning the young man over his master's shaft. He held onto the last thread
of his control enough to look into his padawan's eyes, to be absolutely sure
this was what he wanted. Xanatos' only answer was to lower himself onto
Qui-Gon's erection, inching down slowly until they met skin to skin, Qui-Gon
buried as far inside his apprentice as he could go.
They stayed that way
for a long moment, not moving, committing this first time to memory. Then
Xanatos whispered softly, "Oh, Master. Qui-Gon...." The words broke the spell,
and they began to move as fast and as hard as they could, knocking half of the
water out of the tub in their driving need for completion. Their mouths met in
hard kisses, lips and tongues seeking to devour each other just as their bodies
were doing below. Xanatos pulled out of the kiss and leaned back, arms
supporting him from elbows to hands on the side of the tub, and shifted his
position slightly, changing the angle of his master's erection inside him.
Both men cried out at the sensation, quickly returning to that hard,
fast pace. Xanatos let go of the tub with one hand, reaching down to enclose his
own erection with his hand, pulling and tugging at his shaft with as much energy
as he could. He came quickly, the reflexive tightening of his muscles around
Qui-Gon's erection bring the master over the brink as well. They rode the waves
out together, hips slowly undulating after the initial overwhelming pleasure
subsided, seeking to pull every last drop of feeling out of the moment.
Finally, Xanatos collapsed against his master's chest, lips nuzzling his
neck weakly as they both let their breathing slow naturally, in no hurry to end
this joining. After they had both calmed somewhat, Qui-Gon rubbed a finger over
the mark of possession at the base of Xanatos' neck. "Mine," he whispered, not a
question, not a claim, just a simple statement of fact.
Xanatos raised
up enough to meet his eyes. "As you are mine."
He could feel the younger
man's erection firming again as he pulled him forward, meeting his lips in a
bruising kiss as they began all over again.
Eventually the water grew cold, and the hour late. Still, Qui-Gon roused his
sleeping apprentice with reluctance, placing a kiss on the temple closest to him
and whispering the young man's name.
Xanatos stirred, then settled more
comfortably against his master's body. The movement brought Qui-Gon's desire
rushing back full-force, but he held it in check. "The water is cold, Padawan.
We need to go back to our room."
"But I'm comfortable here." Xanatos'
lips moved against Qui-Gon's neck as he spoke, further fuel to the fire Qui-Gon
was barely holding in check to begin with. "Besides," he added, raising his head
to smile wickedly at his master, "we can keep each other warm."
Qui-Gon
accepted one kiss before pushing his apprentice away. "Yes, we can. But not
here. Up. Now."
Xanatos did as he was told, lower lip stuck out in
silent protest. As soon as he stood he wrapped his arms around himself,
shivering. "It's cold!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you."
Qui-Gon had pulled a large bath sheet around his back and was drying off, but
Xanatos had other ideas. He took advantage of Qui-Gon's open arms to trace a
line down the center of his chest before leaning in until their skin touched
completely from shoulders to knees.
Qui-Gon put his arms around the
young man, wrapping them both in the large sheet. "What are you doing?" he
asked. His tone, however, failed to even hint at sternness, as Xanatos' chest
slid along his own, creating almost unbearable friction.
"Getting warm,"
Xanatos replied with a wicked grin, rubbing against his master once more before
leaning in for a kiss. His hand traveled down Qui-Gon's back, slipping between
his cheeks to test the opening there.
Qui-Gon groaned, his arms dropping
to his sides as he pulled away from the warm body. "Our room," he said softly,
as he wrapped another bath sheet around his apprentice. "I'll be along in a
minute."
"Come with me now," Xanatos requested, tugging at his master's
arm.
"Stieg Wa could see us. It's too risky."
The pout turned
into a frown. "You're ashamed. Of this--of us."
"No. I simply want this
part of our lives to be for us. Not for the Jedi--at least until you are
knighted." He caressed Xanatos' cheek. "I will not have your knighthood tainted
by idle talk. You deserve better than that."
The quiet determination of
those words seemed to reassure the young man. He nodded, wrapping the sheet
tightly around himself, picked up his clothes, and left quickly. Qui-Gon emptied
the tub, cleaned up what water hadn't drained into the grates in the floor, then
gathered his own clothing and left.
He barely had time to shut the door
to their room before Xanatos was on him, lips and hands demanding as he pulled
Qui-Gon toward the nearest bed. The clothing fell from Qui-Gon's hands, then the
sheet disappeared as well, leaving them both naked as they tumbled onto the bed,
Xanatos writhing underneath his master, burning thin trails of fire down the
older man's back with his nails.
"I want you," Xanatos gasped, in
between tastes of Qui-Gon's shoulder and neck. "Want..." a pause to slide his
hand down Qui-Gon's back to the small opening between his cheeks, "inside you."
He thrust one finger into the opening, biting down on Qui-Gon's shoulder as the
master arched up with a gasp. "Now. Please."
Qui-Gon groaned in
response, pushing back against that finger, trying to take it as far inside
himself as he could. "Yes," he breathed, thrusting harder as Xanatos inserted
two fingers, then three. He shuddered as they touched a spot deep inside him
that sent sharp arcs of pleasure coursing through him. His mind began to replay
the dream he'd seen while his padawan slept back at the Temple. "Inside me," he
growled, pulling away from that maddening touch with effort, and sliding onto
the floor, dragging his apprentice with him.
For a moment Xanatos
glared, angry to have lost the closeness of skin on skin, then he realized what
his master intended. A wicked grin spread across his face. "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon rolled over onto his stomach, then raised himself up onto his knees and
elbows, resting his forehead on the smooth durasteel floor, the coolness of the
metal helping him to calm his heated body a little.
Xanatos' hands
landed on his master's hips, causing the older man to shiver as they slid slowly
up his sides, to his shoulders. A warm chest slowly lined the length of
Qui-Gon's back, warming him again quickly as his apprentice resumed biting at
his neck and shoulders. The younger man was moving his hips against his master's
backside, his erection sliding teasingly in and out of the space between his
cheeks. Qui-Gon reared his head back, offering more of his neck, but Xanatos
moved his lips away, kissing his way down his master's spine until he reached
the small of the man's back.
Slowly, Xanatos traced a wet line down
between Qui-Gon's cheeks, parting them with his hands to gain better access. He
thrust his tongue into the opening there, wetting his master to make the entry
easier. Xanatos moved away suddenly but before Qui-Gon had time to protest, he
was back, and Qui-Gon swallowed a whimper as his padawan's erection pushed at
his opening, meeting the resistance with firm pressure.
A moment more,
and then Xanatos won out, breaking the surface to rest just inside his master's
tight channel. The burn of the invasion warred with the pleasure of finally
having this man inside him. As his padawan began to slowly sink further into
him, the burn began to fade, replaced more and more by the overwhelming
satisfaction of being taken, and by the intense pleasure Xanatos was
broadcasting through their bond.
Passion swirled around them and through
them, increasing in waves as they fed off each other's desire. Qui-Gon could
sense they were both about to reach the pinnacle, wanted to slow down and draw
it out, but couldn't. He came with a hoarse shout, felt his padawan follow him
into ecstasy, both of them riding out the wave of bliss before collapsing onto
the floor.
As their breathing began to return to normal, Qui-Gon started
to realize the floor was very cold and very hard. He smiled when he moved and
Xanatos groaned in protest. "Not to sound redundant, Padawan, but it's cold down
here."
Qui-Gon felt his apprentice smile against his back. "If you are
cold, then perhaps I did not fulfill my end of this bargain," Xanatos said
lazily.
"That was most definitely not the problem," he answered,
then moved again. "The bed would be warmer, not to mention far more
comfortable."
The younger man sighed. "I suppose you are right. But only
if you plan on sleeping in the same bed as me. Otherwise I'm not letting you
up."
"Well, it would definitely be warmer if we shared body heat."
"I'll show you body heat," Xanatos growled, writhing against his master.
"Padawan...bed. To sleep," he added, just in case he was misread.
Xanatos pouted, but he let his master up from the floor. "As long as I
can sleep in your arms, that will have to do."
"I wouldn't have you
anywhere else," Qui-Gon said immediately, leaning in for a long kiss before he
turned off the lights. "Sleep," he reminded softly.
"Yes, Master." They
climbed onto the bed, not bothering with clothing, and curled up together under
the blanket. Qui-Gon listened as his padawan's breathing quickly fell into sleep
patterns. He tried to follow the young man into slumber, but couldn't quite
relax enough. The enormity of what they'd done, and what they'd have to do to
keep it quiet, weighed down on him, heavy in the dark silence.
It was a
long time before he slept.
He knew before he was fully awake. Before he remembered, without even
opening his eyes, Qui-Gon was aware he was wrapped in his padawan. He could feel
the young man's distinctive presence in the Force, could smell him with every
breath, could feel the smooth skin of Xanatos' forehead against his chin and
lips, his hair tickling Qui-Gon's nose. And he could feel warm skin touching his
own all the way down his body--an arm wrapped around his chest, a side warming
his stomach, a leg draped over both of his own, and the soft flesh between his
apprentice's legs that began to harden as Qui-Gon moved against all that
tempting skin.
Xanatos stirred, and Qui-Gon felt the young man smile
against his shoulder, then place a quick kiss there. The master's eyes remained
closed as lips were replaced by a tongue that traced a line of wet heat down to
one nipple, as a deft hand made its way lazily down Qui-Gon's torso to his
growing erection. The tongue followed the hand's path, stopping now and then to
take little bites as it delved lower. Fingertips teased the master moments
before his padawan's mouth engulfed him, sending him up in flames.
"Xan--" the word cut off with a groan as Xanatos sucked hard, reaching
down to tease Qui-Gon's balls now as he worked his magic with his mouth. Qui-Gon
threaded his fingers through his apprentice's short hair, barely managing to
restrain himself from gripping the young man's head to the point of unbearable
pain as he slowly began to thrust into that oh-so-talented mouth.
The
knock at the door elicited a groan of a different kind. Qui-Gon's hips stilled,
and his eyes flew open, but Xanatos refused to stop. "Yes?" Qui-Gon managed to
choke out, hoping it was loud enough for Stieg Wa to hear, because he didn't
think he could manage another word.
"Breakfast in twenty minutes. Then
I'm going to get started on the last of the repairs."
"Thank--" A quick
biting of his own lip kept Qui-Gon from shouting as Xanatos slipped two fingers
inside him, even as the young man continued his work with his mouth. Somewhere
in the distant real world, Qui-Gon heard Stieg Wa's footsteps grow fainter and
fade, not that it mattered much. He couldn't have stopped himself from
responding at this point if his life had depended on it.
He closed his
eyes again, holding onto his sanity even as Xanatos tried to drive him crazy.
His mind supplied the image he'd seen in the brief moments his eyes had been
open. Xanatos, dark head between Qui-Gon's legs, pale skin spread out below,
pink lips covering his erection, a look of sheer pleasure on his face. And one
long look into the black eyes rimmed with deepest blue, a look of total
possession. Of desire. Of ownership.
The wealth of passionate feeling
behind that last emotion was enough to send Qui-Gon over the edge, as he arched
his back and came, dimly aware of his padawan holding on for the ride. After, he
lay there for several minutes, just breathing until he could think again. When
he finally returned to some semblance of coherency, it was to find his
apprentice stroking himself, face buried in Qui-Gon's hair, body alongside his
master, touching every inch of the way.
Wordlessly, Qui-Gon slid down
the young man's body and took his shaft all the way into his mouth, swallowing
around the tip. Xanatos arched up, his hips inches off the bed as he climaxed
with a shout of his master's name, then collapsed back onto the bed. Qui-Gon
crawled back up next to him, gathering him in his arms.
Xanatos'
breathing finally slowed enough to allow him to speak. "Good morning, Master."
Qui-Gon laughed. "That it is indeed."
They lay there for a few
more minutes, Qui-Gon steadfastly refusing to think of consequences. The
ramifications of this could stay in the back of his mind and needle him all they
wanted; he wasn't bringing them out into the light of day. Not yet. There would
be time for that later. "We must get up," he said at last, placing a kiss on his
padawan's head and sitting up in the bed.
"Why?" The sulky tone was at
odds with Xanatos' actions, as he followed his master's example and stood,
reaching for his clothes.
"Because Stieg Wa has breakfast ready. And
I've seen you when you're hungry."
Xanatos grinned then, a dangerous
light in his eyes as he finished pulling on his pants. He stalked over to his
master, wrapping his arms around the older man. "I'm hungry now," he growled as
he fastened his lips to Qui-Gon's shoulder.
"For food, Padawan." The
tone was forceful, but Qui-Gon was slow to push the young man away. He did
finally extricate himself, and the two of them finished dressing and headed out
to find Stieg Wa.
Breakfast was a quick affair, all of them anxious to
be out of the Landor system and away from the pirates. Stieg Wa finished first,
dumping his dirty dishes in the cleaning unit before the Jedi had finished half
of their own meals. "I'm going to suit up and finish the repairs on the
platform. We should be ready to leave shortly."
"Be careful," Qui-Gon
said. Stieg Wa was an experienced pilot, and had no doubt done things like this
numerous times, but any trip outside the ship in a space suit carried an extra
risk. There was no such thing as too much caution.
The pilot grinned. "I
always am."
As Qui-Gon finished his breakfast, he felt his padawan's
gaze on him the whole time. He steadfastly refused to look at the young man, but
after a few minutes of that intense scrutiny, he had to say something.
"Padawan...."
"Yes, Master?" The polite words held a silky undercurrent
of pure sex that sent Qui-Gon's pulse racing.
"You must control
yourself," Qui-Gon admonished, finally meeting Xanatos' eyes. "Others will be
looking for signs of our relationship. If we are to keep it secret until your
knighthood, you must bury your feelings deep."
Xanatos' eyes narrowed to
thin slits. "Am I not even allowed to look at you when we are alone?"
"When we are alone you may do as you please," the Jedi master answered,
a shiver running through him at the thought of things that might please his
padawan. "But Stieg Wa could return at any moment."
"Stieg Wa does not
have any Force ability. He wouldn't be able to sense anything from me."
"He wouldn't need to. Anyone with eyes could figure out exactly what you
were thinking just now."
Xanatos took a deep breath. "I will endeavor to
be more careful in public in the future, my Master." His voice now held a sulky
note, a sign of the willfulness the young man had never quite outgrown. In
truth, Qui-Gon had not pushed him to subdue that trait nearly as much as the
rest of the Order would have dictated. He had found from personal experience
that sometimes a little willfulness was more of a help than a vice when it came
to dealing with the Council.
"We'd best get this cleaned up and prepare
to leave," Qui-Gon said, taking his dishes to the cleaner. "We'll need--"
A sharp blast to the side of the ship interrupted him, sent him flying
across the room, almost into his apprentice's lap. "The pirates--Stieg Wa!"
Qui-Gon yelled, already running for the door.
Xanatos was right behind
him. "There's only one more suit where he is. I'll get one from the other hatch
and meet you back there as soon as I can."
Qui-Gon nodded, turning down
the hall toward the back of the ship as his padawan went the other way. He made
it to a porthole close to the dorsal platform in time to see Stieg Wa, hurrying
toward the door. Qui-Gon braced himself against the wall as another blast rocked
the ship. He regained his balance and looked out the porthole again to see Stieg
Wa clutching his arm, unable to cover the blaster hole in his suit. Pirates were
already rocketing over to the ship, jet packs on the back of their space suits
making it a quick journey.
Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out with
the Force, intending to fend off the pirates until Stieg Wa could get back to
the door. When he looked again, however, the pirates had reached the ship
unhindered. He frowned, then concentrated harder, but to no avail.
"Sith!" Qui-Gon put the Force problem aside to wonder about later. He
looked around, found a space suit, and began the laborious task of putting it on
as his apprentice rounded the corner.
"What are you doing?" Xanatos
demanded. "Have you lost your mind?"
"I'm going out there to save him!"
Xanatos looked out the porthole. "You can't go out there! The pirates
are already on their way--if you go out there they'll capture you too."
"I won't leave him to be captured!" Qui-Gon pulled the suit up and
started sealing it shut.
Xanatos knocked his master's hands away,
ripping the seals off. "You can't take them all! And I won't let them take you!"
Qui-Gon fought him, neither man able to accomplish anything while they
battled. "Padawan! I will save him!" He managed to shove Xanatos off, but
before he could get to the door, his apprentice had a firm grip on his arm.
"You can't! Look!" Xanatos jerked him roughly over to the window. "They
have him! And if we don't leave they'll have us too. Do you know what Jedi go
for on the black market?"
"I--" His training gnawed at him, urging him
to stay and fight, but the pirates were closer to their own ship than Stieg
Wa's, and he could not face all of them and the guns of their ship and
hope to win.
"Master. Qui-Gon. We must go." He pulled on his
master's arm, tugging him toward the escape pods. After a moment, Qui-Gon
nodded. He took one last look at Stieg Wa, being carried back to the pirate
ships by one man, while three more began opening the hatch that would lead them
to the hallway the Jedi were standing in, then turned silently, following his
padawan to the pods.
They made it there in seconds. Xanatos picked the
first one, yanking the hatch open and dragging his master inside, almost as if
he were afraid Qui-Gon would change his mind. Only when the hatch was sealed and
the pod had jettisoned did Xanatos allow his grip on Qui-Gon's arm to loosen.
Not that he let the older man go--instead he climbed onto him, facing him in the
odd bench-like seat that tilted slightly, enabling the padawan to stare down at
his master. "I thought I might lose you," he breathed.
"I'm still here,"
Qui-Gon reminded him with a shaky smile. Xanatos' answer was to kiss his master
soundly.
After a few moments, Qui-Gon pushed him back. "We need to set
the coordinates before we drift too far."
"They're already set. I set
them myself after the first attack."
Qui-Gon frowned at him, a faint
sliver of unease working into his mind. "Why would you do that?"
"Are
you kidding? After we'd been attacked once and were sitting dead in pirate
space? The odds were against us. And I always leave a back door, even when the
odds are good."
A reasonable point in favor of the action. Qui-Gon
shoved the unease away, focusing instead on the fact that they were now safe,
even if the same could not be said for Stieg Wa. The pod had a homing beacon
that they didn't dare turn on, but no com equipment. He would have to contact
the Temple when they reached Telos and have knights sent to track Stieg Wa. The
pilot had been captured serving the Jedi; he would not just be left to his fate.
Not without a fight.
"Master," Xanatos sighed, tucking his face into the
crook of Qui-Gon's neck. "Promise me you won't take risks like that again."
"I shall do what I must." He relented slightly as his padawan's arms
tightened around him. "But I will promise to be careful."
Xanatos raised
his head to look down at him. "Then I will hold you to that," he said earnestly.
He lowered his lips to meet Qui-Gon's, placing a relieved kiss there, then
looked over his own shoulder at the control panel. "We have two days till we
reach Telos," he said, returning his attention to his master, a dangerous gleam
in his eyes. "What shall we do to occupy ourselves in the meantime?"
"We
shall meditate," Qui-Gon answered. He knew what his padawan was hinting at. He
could feel the young man's growing erection against his own, sense Xanatos'
relief at their escape and need to feel everything, to know they were both
unharmed and quite alive. And he felt the same need growing inside himself.
However, they needed to conserve their strength, and be fully aware of
everything around them. Sex with Xanatos, in any form, tended to shut out the
rest of the galaxy. And Qui-Gon needed to meditate on the problem he'd had with
the Force on the ship.
"Hm...perhaps we can meditate later?" the young
man replied, rubbing his hips against Qui-Gon's.
The Jedi Master
wavered, but his resolve held. "Padawan. We must keep our attention focused on
our surroundings." He hated to see the hurt look in Xanatos' eyes as the rebuke
hit home, but he had no choice. In normal situations, Xanatos was hard to deter
when he wanted something. In this kind of situation, Qui-Gon knew he would be
nearly impossible, but Jedi Master refused to waiver.
After a moment,
Xanatos realized his pouting wasn't going to work. "Yes, Master," he growled,
giving in, but not even pretending to be gracious about it. "But I'm not
moving."
"Fine." They could meditate like this--there was precious
little space to sit as it was. The pod was cramped and cold, meant for survival,
not for comfort, and at least this way they would conserve heat. "But meditate,"
he commanded firmly. "Focus your attention outward, and be alert for danger."
"Yes, Master." The tone was even angrier, but Xanatos did as he was
told, closing his eyes and curling into his master. Qui-Gon sensed him settling
into a light trance, sending out tendrils of the Force, searching for possible
problems.
Qui-Gon allowed himself one moment to breathe in his
apprentice's scent before he settled into a trance himself, finding no problems
with his Force connection, but putting the question of that earlier difficulty
aside as he kept watch while they made their way to Telos.
Qui-Gon settled back on the bed with a sigh and closed his eyes. After two
days cramped up in the escape pod, they'd made it to Telos, but he'd had to call
the Council and deal with Stieg Wa's capture and the sticky questions it
created. He'd managed to get away without having to answer too many directly. He
still hadn't figured out what happened to his Force abilities on the ship, and
he wasn't anxious to answer questions regarding his apprentice in any capacity.
He reached for his neck, kneading the muscles there, trying to relax
them. Every muscle in his body ached--whoever designed those escape pods must
have meant them for Ewoks. He could use a massage. A very long massage. Xanatos
had gone off with his father as soon as they'd been rescued from the pod and
brought back to Thani. The capital of Telos had much to offer in the way of
entertainment, but Qui-Gon much preferred the solitude of his room. Or the
company of his apprentice, if the young man ever showed up.
As if on
cue, Xanatos walked in. Qui-Gon watched as he crossed quickly to the bed,
flopping down on his stomach with his head propped on his fist, and studied his
master. "Sore, Master?"
"Those pods aren't built for any person of
normal height, much less two tall men."
Xanatos grimaced
sympathetically, reaching out to rub Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I'm a bit sore myself.
But I know what will fix that."
"Hmmm?" Qui-Gon responded, leaning into
the soothing touch of his padawan's hand and closing his eyes again.
"The chau'baq."
His eyes opened again. "The what?"
"Chau'baq. It's a large tub, with hot water, and--well, I'll show you.
Come on." He tugged on his master's arm, pulling him into a sitting position,
then moving away from the bed. He crossed to Qui-Gon's pack and searched through
it, then frowned. "I think there were some...just a minute." Qui-Gon stared
after him, eyes fixed on the empty doorway until Xanatos returned. "Here," his
apprentice said, dropping a garment on the bed. "Put that on and meet me in the
lounge. Down the hall to the right, third door on the left."
The Jedi
master eyed the flimsy garment warily. "Why?"
A gleam entered Xanatos' eyes. "If I stay in this room while
you change, I suspect neither of us will be leaving for a while."
"There
is that," Qui-Gon agreed softly, a smile finally crossing his lips. "I'll meet
you in a few minutes."
Xanatos nodded and walked out, closing the door
behind him, and leaving Qui-Gon to contemplate the rather small amount of fabric
he'd been left with and just what he was getting himself into.
Qui-Gon made his way slowly down the hall, pausing to admire the statues
that lined the marble floor. The hallway was just like the rest of the
house--rich and impressive. And cold, he added as a draft blew by, causing him
to pull his robe tighter. Unwilling to wander around in the skimpy short pants
Xanatos had left him with, he'd opted to wear his robe as well.
Undoubtedly it was much warmer in this chau'baq Xanatos was luring him
to. The thought of warmth and his padawan lured him down the hall and through
the door. The room was indeed warmer, and held a pleasant scent Qui-Gon couldn't
quite place. He followed the sound of quiet voices and a faint bubbling noise
around a corner to find his padawan sitting in a large tub next to his father.
Xanatos turned as Qui-Gon approached the tub. "Master! I was beginning
to think you were lost."
"I was admiring the statues in the hall. You
have a lovely home, Crion."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I have had much
time alone to travel and collect art over the years."
"Won't you join
us, Master?" Xanatos held his braid in his hand, sliding it through the water
surrounding him. "The water is very soothing; I hardly feel any of the aches
from being in that pod now."
His apprentice stretched, leaving Qui-Gon
fighting both the memories of the last time he'd shared a tub of hot water with
the young man, and the sight of all that glistening wet skin. The bubbling of
the water was, thankfully, keeping everything below it from view. If he'd been
faced with the entire form of his padawan at once...well, he would do what he
needed to do to ensure that they were not discovered, but it would have strained
him.
As he dropped his robe and stepped into the tub, Qui-Gon noticed
Xanatos was the picture of composure. His father sat next to him with no idea of
what was going through the young man's head. But any Force user would have been
slammed with the emotions rolling from him in waves.
Qui-Gon frowned at
his padawan as he sat down opposite him, a warning to strengthen his shields.
Emotions released into the Force with such intensity could have side effects on
anyone around them. Xanatos' mouth tightened and his eyes darkened, but the
emotions eased until they were barely noticeable.
Admiring the ability
it took to close such strong feelings off so quickly, Qui-Gon sent his padawan a
smile, but it was met with a cool gaze. Before Qui-Gon could wonder about that
look, it was gone, replaced by a cheerful smile as Xanatos talked to his father.
With a mental shrug, Qui-Gon leaned back and closed his eyes, pushing
his hair onto the shelf behind him as he sank down until the hot water covered
his shoulders up to his neck. The bubbles in the water were created by jets of
air that shot out of various spots in the side of the tub. He leaned against
four of them, letting them massage all of the knots out of his back. Jets near
the bottom of the tub worked out the pains in his legs. Within minutes he was
more relaxed than he'd been since...since his time in the bathtub with Xanatos.
He pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment, the
soothing heat of the water, the pounding of the jets at his aching muscles, the
foot trailing its way up his leg--
Sith! Only years of training kept
Qui-Gon from jumping out of the water. If he didn't know better he'd swear
Xanatos was trying to kill him! One of his eyes cracked open enough to look at
his apprentice, whose attention was totally focused on his father. At least it
appeared that way. And yet, one of his feet was slowly making its way up
Qui-Gon's calf, across his knee and down the length of his thigh. It stopped at
the barrier of the shorts, then one toe dipped under the fabric and ran along
the edge, pressing against the skin.
That touch of skin on skin
sensitized by the swirling water raised goose bumps all over Qui-Gon's body. He
nearly gasped when the foot disappeared, but it quickly reappeared, tracing the
outline of his erection through his shorts. He did gasp then, mouth opening just
far enough for water to sneak in, and he coughed. Both men turned to him, almost
identical expressions of curiosity on their faces. "Are you all right, Master?"
Xanatos asked, tone solicitous and polite, even as that foot grew bolder,
massaging the swollen flesh beneath the fabric.
"Fine." Somehow Qui-Gon
managed to keep his voice even as he sat there, being brought nearly to an
orgasm by his padawan--right in front of the young man's thankfully oblivious
father. Just when he thought he would no longer be able to stop himself, the
foot retreated, drawing itself back down his leg and away.
He breathed a
quiet sigh of relief, focusing his energies on dispersing his lust without
causing an orgy nearby. He managed to get his need down to a bearable level, to
where he did not have to concentrate on controlling his breathing when he felt
it again.
This time Xanatos let his toenails lightly scrape up the side
of Qui-Gon's leg, all the way to the edge of the fabric. The young man shifted,
a natural movement in the midst of his conversation, but a move that in reality
gave him more reach. His entire leg drifted over Qui-Gon's for a moment before
the foot grazed his renewing erection.
The foot slid downward, below his
shaft to caress the opening behind it through the fabric. Qui-Gon couldn't
suppress a shiver at that feeling, and at the memories that assailed him.
He couldn't take anymore. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon stood, stalking
over to the stairs and stepping out of the chau'baq. "I feel much better," he
said as he busied himself pulling on his robe, neatly avoiding Crion's eyes as
he spoke. "I'm sorry to break up the reunion, but I need my Padawan for a few
things. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course." Crion nodded to his son
as the Xanatos rose and followed his master out of the room. Qui-Gon couldn't
look at his padawan as he strode down the hall to his room, but he knew the
young man was right behind him. He could feel him there, feel the heat pulsing
between them.
Qui-Gon threw the door open, only to hear it slam shut
just as quickly. His world spun, and he found himself shoved up against the
door, the polished wood smooth against his cheek and his chest as his robe was
yanked from his shoulders. His hair was shoved aside as teeth grazed at his
neck, a wet braid slid along his back, and he heard a rip, followed by cool air
on his hips. The shorts, he realized dazedly; Xanatos had ripped them off.
Then he lost coherent thought as one thumb made its way into his
opening, working the muscle there easily. The thumb was replaced with a knuckle,
the width of the bent finger stretching him further as he writhed against the
door.
"Please..." Qui-Gon grated out, breathing hard as he thrust back
onto those fingers, wanting more.
Xanatos stopped his assault on his
master's neck long enough for two words. "Please what?"
"Inside
me...you. Now!"
The young man laughed harshly, biting on Qui-Gon's neck.
"It's not nice to demand," he murmured, lips moving against his master's skin.
"But as it happens," he added, "I want to be in you."
He moved away long
enough to remove his own shorts, and then he was inside his master in one quick
thrust. Qui-Gon cried out, his hands sliding down the door to reach for his own
erection, but Xanatos stopped him.
"Mine," the padawan grated out, still
moving inside his master as he pinned both Qui-Gon's arms to the wall and held
them there. Qui-Gon bit his lip as he was repeatedly pounded into the door, the
sensation of his rock-hard erection sliding between the wood and his stomach
just enough to leave him wanting more. Much more.
Over and over, the
friction of the cool door and the heat of his own skin, the thickness sliding in
and out of his body, the sensation of teeth, lips and tongue all over his
shoulders and neck, and of hot, damp skin along the length of his back slowly
drove him toward insanity. He tried to move his hands again, but Xanatos pushed
them against the door even harder, keeping them there with a bruising grip.
Finally Xanatos let go of his arms, reached down to his hips and pulled them
away from the door leaving Qui-Gon to brace himself against the door or fall
down. The Jedi Master howled as Xanatos thrust deeper into him at a new angle,
stroking a place inside of him that set him on fire.
And then Xanatos'
hands were on him, and that was the beginning of the end. He climaxed with such
a force it shook him to the core, took him completely out of himself for what
felt like forever, and at the same time not nearly long enough.
He was
surprised to still be standing when it was over. His legs and arms held him up
until Xanatos came inside him with a hoarse shout, his teeth sinking into
Qui-Gon's shoulder. They both collapsed to the floor, Xanatos wrapped around his
master, holding tightly as if he had no intention of ever letting go.
Eyes closed, savoring the moment, Qui-Gon felt lips moving against his
neck. "Mine," his padawan breathed, tongue reaching out to slide along his nape.
"Yes," he responded softly, his arms tightening on the ones gripping his
midsection. He could not deny that he was owned; to ignore the truth would be
far too dangerous.
Lips moved on him again, tracing a lazy line down his
shoulder before Xanatos stilled, nose pressed against his master's back,
breathing deeply, drawing out the moment for as long as it could last.
Eventually, they separated, dressing for evening meal despite Xanatos'
insistence that he'd really rather stay in the room. Privately, Qui-Gon agreed
with him, but it wouldn't help matters to encourage his padawan to forsake duty
for pleasure. He reminded the young man to calm himself inside and out, so that
no outward signs of their deeper relationship would be detected--by Force users,
or by Xanatos' father. The idea of explaining any of this to Crion was not high
of Qui-Gon's list of things not to do.
As Qui-Gon pulled on his tunic,
he realized that steeling himself not to show any signs of the last half hour
was not going to be easy. The textured fabric grazed over the bruises and bites
his padawan had left on his back and shoulders, a constant reminder that left
him half-hard by the time he was finished getting dressed. He'd have to remember
not to move much at the evening meal.
Owned. That thought slipped
through his mind again. The marks of his ownership would be evident to anyone
who saw him without his tunic. But he didn't need to see them. There were
already much deeper marks on the inside.
"Master?" Xanatos stood at the
door, the picture of calm. Qui-Gon felt the Force around his padawan, but could
sense no trace of the young man's emotions.
"Let's go." As Qui-Gon
brushed past him, Xanatos reached out, running a finger over a particularly
sensitive mark on Qui-Gon's shoulder. The Jedi master barely suppressed a
shiver, frowning at the young man, who grinned up at him.
The presence
of a passing servant kept Qui-Gon from further action. He put the situation
aside to deal with later. For now, he concentrated on controlling his own
reactions and dealing with his duties.
Xanatos led the way to the dining hall, a cavernous room lined with
holopaintings by some of the best artists in the galaxy. Qui-Gon recognized one
gold-framed work that he had seen before, in the palace on D'vrai. Something
about the way the shapes shifted had unsettled him then, and his reaction this
time was no different.
Or perhaps it was just current circumstances that
were unsettling.
Crion sat at the end of a table that could easily seat
several dozen guests, beckoning the two Jedi to the chairs on either side of
him. As he took his seat, Qui-Gon eyed the painting again. It had to have cost a
small fortune. Telos seemed to be doing quite well financially--why would they
need to renegotiate the terms of their contract with Nardir? He had no way of
knowing, not until he visited the other planet and saw for himself what was
going on in both places. He would have to make arrangements to visit Nardir
soon.
A servant put a plate down in front of Qui-Gon and spread the Jedi
Master's napkin across his lap. He picked up his spoon and tasted the soup
before she could help him with that as well. "You have an excellent cook,
Governor."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I became so accustomed to fine food
wherever I traveled that I confess I had to search far and wide for a cook who
could match that quality. But I found one, and I pay him well to ensure he does
not leave."
"I can see why. This is excellent."
Crion tasted the
soup himself and smiled. "I would have thought as Jedi you would eat like kings
wherever you go," he said, more to his son than to Qui-Gon.
"Hardly,"
Xanatos answered. A rueful smile curled his lips. "We do well occasionally, but
for the most part it's either space rations, or our hosts assume we are
minimalists who care nothing for comfort or good food, and we get bland,
tasteless drivel."
"Padawan...." At the subtle rebuke, Xanatos looked
down at his soup and began eating with great concentration. "So, your travels,"
Qui-Gon continued, returning his attention to Crion. "Are you away on official
business a great deal?"
"Sometimes official business. And sometimes
pleasure. I'm alone here, and there isn't much to do, even in a house as
well-appointed as this one."
They ate in silence for several moments,
the clink of forks on plates and scrape of glasses on the table the only sound
in the quiet surrounding them. As the main course was being served, Qui-Gon
brought up the subject he was most interested in. "So, when are the negotiations
scheduled to start?"
"In a week," Crion answered, waving his hand in a
dismissive gesture. "Unless they change their minds again. Four times they have
moved the date."
"They are reluctant to negotiate?"
"They say
the agreement is fair, and there is no need, but they will if they must. Still,
they put it off. They are hoping to change my mind. They will not."
Qui-Gon looked around the room. "You seem to be doing well enough. Is
the contract really that unprofitable?"
"It is not about profit. It is
about fairness. The current contract was negotiated four generations ago. The
scientists of Telos are giving up their vast knowledge for well below what it is
worth, and as Governor, I won't allow it to continue."
Before Qui-Gon
could respond, Xanatos stepped in. "Please. We just spent days cramped in an
escape pod, we have a wonderful meal in front of us, and this is the first time
I've seen my father in years. Couldn't we find something more pleasant to
discuss?"
Crion turned a wide smile on his son. "Certainly. Business
will wait. What would you like to talk about?"
As father and son talked
about various things, Qui-Gon ate his meal in silence, listening for any sign
that might tell him what made him uneasy about this situation. He would have to
figure it out soon, he realized, with a worried look at his student. Faint
stirrings of danger were whispering to him through the Force, and he had to know
if they involved the negotiations, or something far more personal.
Or
both.
Meditation brought Qui-Gon little comfort. After hours on his knees, he knew
his unease centered on the budding relationship between Xanatos and his father.
He'd had time to sift through the observations he'd made at dinner and paid
close attention to the easy rapport between the two men. The family connection
could account for that, and simple curiosity could be the only reason Xanatos
was so fascinated by the stories of his ancestors, and even more enamored of
stories of his father's wealth and travels.
So why did these things
bother him so much?
For the twelfth time, Qui-Gon checked the windows in
his room, looking for some sign of Xanatos. He wasn't in his room--Qui-Gon had
checked several times. But he was fairly close, that much Qui-Gon could tell
through their bond, he just didn't know where. And he wasn't about to go
searching for his padawan like a befuddled master or a possessive lover.
The moon was full, lighting the courtyard and the gardens with a pale
white light that gave an eerie quality to the landscape. There were flowers,
trees, and shrubs, and beyond that a grove of trees, but no sign of his
apprentice.
The younger man's actions at evening meal had left Qui-Gon
with a choice. He could say nothing, and wait to see what developed, or he could
attempt to divert Xanatos before he became too immersed in his father's world.
His first instinct was to rein the young man in. Yoda should never have sent
them on this mission; there was a reason Jedi barely knew their parents. The
fact that Yoda sent them was the only thing to give him pause. Had this been
what his own master had foreseen? Did the ancient Jedi realize what Xanatos
would feel when he saw his father again? Had he foreseen Xanatos' desire for a
father being more important than his dedication to the Jedi--and to his Master?
Jealousy surged through Qui-Gon, and he concentrated his efforts on it
for a moment, sitting on the bed, cross-legged, feeding the emotion out into the
Force. He had to make his decision with a clear mind, focus on what was best for
his padawan. His own feelings could not affect his actions.
Right. And
Yoda could have a sudden growth spurt tomorrow. It was nearly impossible for him
to separate his own wants and desires from Xanatos' needs.
He knew his
apprentice wanted him, but did the young man really need him? Xanatos was an
adult, too old to need a father figure. And it wasn't as if he'd had any trouble
finding sex before now, so, good as it was between the two of them, he didn't
necessarily need his master for that. Crion could fill a place in Xanatos' life
that Qui-Gon himself no longer occupied. He'd made that decision himself when
he'd taken the young man into his bed--or rather his bath. But what about a
father, one he'd never really known? Could Qui-Gon compete with that kind of
blood tie?
So it was a competition now, was it? Qui-Gon stood and
crossed to the window again, staring out at the moon. He did not need to compete
with Crion. Xanatos needed no father; getting closer to his blood father would
not stand in the way of his link with Qui-Gon. And yet in making a decision to
get closer to his father, Xanatos would jeopardize so much. His relationship
with Crion could not grow easily if Xanatos were traipsing around the galaxy
doing the work of the Jedi--they would never see each other. Which would
mean....
Qui-Gon closed his mind to that idea. No need to think that far
ahead into improbable situations over the young man's simple curiosity about his
family. Xanatos had worked his whole life to become a Jedi; he would not risk
that on a whim.
The door opened, and the subject of his musing walked
in. "Master! I thought you would be asleep by now."
One eyebrow cocked
up. "And were you planning to wake me?"
"Well," the young man said
silkily, shedding his cloak as he crossed to the window, "the thought had
crossed my mind."
Xanatos leaned in for a kiss, which Qui-Gon gave
before withdrawing reluctantly. He hated sounding like an inquisitor, but he
felt the need to ask, "Where have you been?"
"With my father. He wanted
to show me the stables after evening meal, and then we came back to his rooms
and talked." Xanatos slipped out of his master's arms and began shedding
clothing on the way to the bathroom. "He told me about my mother, and about
Telos, family history...things I'd never known."
Qui-Gon followed. "And
you were talking with him about family all this time?"
"Of course."
Xanatos' face disappeared behind a tunic as it was raised over his head and then
tossed to the ground. "You didn't think I was off having my way with someone
else, did you?" He grinned as he took the few steps that brought him right up to
his master, arms reaching out before he was quite there to draw Qui-Gon into an
embrace. Another kiss, this one more serious. "I have what I want," he murmured,
voice husky, before his lips sought his master's again. "Care to join me in the
shower?"
"I shouldn't."
Xanatos stepped out of his leggings and
tossed them across the bathroom with his foot, leaving Qui-Gon to stare at the
expanse of pale skin, and the half-erect shaft in the center of it all. "You
should," he said, stepping closer.
Qui-Gon backed away, reaching down to
pick up his student's fallen clothing. "You've made a mess."
"Leave it,"
Xanatos said with a dismissive wave. "The servants will get it tomorrow."
"You're getting used to that rather quickly."
The young man
shrugged, taking the tunic from his master. "If they're there, might as well
make use of them. Otherwise they could be out of a job. And that would benefit
no one."
"Don't get too used to them. We'll be gone soon enough, and
it'll be back to space rations and cleaning up for ourselves."
"But not
tonight," Xanatos said softly, tossing the tunic onto a nearby stool and running
his fingers lightly down Qui-Gon's chest. "Tonight, we have a nice room, a
comfortable bed, and a large shower with real hot water. Why waste it?"
Hands went around his side, as Xanatos stepped closer to run his hands
up his master's back. Their erections touched briefly, eliciting a gasp from
Qui-Gon, who crumbled under the assault of his own senses. He leaned down to
lick his padawan's lips, tracing the entire mouth with his tongue, which snaked
through the young man's lips into his mouth, finding its mate, chasing it around
briefly before Xanatos stepped back. His fingers slid along his master's arm; he
caught Qui-Gon's hand and pulled him backwards to the shower stall.
The
shower took a moment to warm, but Qui-Gon didn't notice as he kissed his padawan
with increasing passion. He ran his hands down the young man's back, lingering
over the firm mounds below his hips before his hands traveled back up to twist
into the soft, black hair. He used his hold to guide Xanatos back under the
spray of water.
Qui-Gon ran his fingertips over his student's neck, his
hand catching in the braid that he impatiently tossed aside on his way to his
goal. His fingers stroked down the smooth chest, stopping to tease the nipples
there into hard nubs. Desire surged through him at the sight of the young man's
head tipped back under the water that ran over his face, plastered his hair
back, emphasizing the fine, delicate bone structure covered in flawless skin.
His face was like a statue, carved to perfection by a great artist.
Fascinated, Qui-Gon watched the rivulets run off the young man's cheeks.
His tongue snaked out and interrupted the flow of water; he tasted minerals, and
the essence of his lover. He followed the jaw line up to Xanatos' ear, tracing
the outside before sucking on the lobe. A small bite, and then he kissed his way
across his padawan's cheek down to his mouth. Their lips fused, blocking out the
water, tongues meeting in a long, slow kiss.
Qui-Gon grappled for skin,
trying to pull the young man closer. Finally, he turned them both around and
drove his student against the wall, pressing Xanatos' body as close as he could.
He reached down between them to find the young man's erection and stroked the
length of it as he rubbed his own against Xanatos' thigh.
Hands grasped
at Qui-Gon's back as Xanatos bucked against the firm pressure of Qui-Gon's body.
Water pounded against his lower back as he released Xanatos' lips and fastened
his mouth on the joint of neck and shoulder.
As Xanatos' fingertips dug
into Qui-Gon's skin, a loud, hitching breath escaped the padawan's throat. He
undulated his hips, causing his erection to slide hot and hard across his
master's palm. Qui-Gon kissed his way down the younger man's chest, across his
stomach, heedless of the water that poured into his hair as he knelt and
fastened his lips over the head of his padawan's shaft. He took the tip in and
swirled his tongue around the edges.
Xanatos whimpered when Qui-Gon
released him, and again when Qui-Gon closed his lips around the straining
erection once more. Qui-Gon slid his lips down to the wiry curls at the base of
Xanatos' cock, then back until only the crown was encased in the wet heat of his
mouth. His padawan gripped his head, urging him forward again, and Qui-Gon
complied, taking him in and pulling back again and again, adding suction to the
motion. Xanatos growled low in his throat, his hands almost painfully tight in
his master's hair now, allowing no movement beyond the steady back and forth
rhythm that was driving the younger man toward completion. He climaxed with a
shout, thrusting deep into Qui-Gon's mouth and holding him in place until he was
done.
Qui-Gon rose to give Xanatos a luxuriant kiss, so his padawan
could taste his own essence on his master's tongue. Xanatos was heavy Qui-Gon's
arms, sated from his own release, and easily turned in Qui-Gon's arms. He was
pressed face first against the shower, his legs spread invitingly, water running
down his back, into the crevice between his legs.
Force, but he was
beautiful. Qui-Gon followed the path of the water with his tongue, pulling apart
Xanatos' cheeks to lick at the water trapped there. At his padawan's sharp gasp,
he licked again, and again, the soft moans he could hear above him as much of a
rush as sex itself.
He tightened his grip on Xanatos' hips and slowly
pushed his tongue into the small hole. Xanatos cried out, and his hips bucked
back against Qui-Gon's mouth, pushing the tongue in further. Need urged Qui-Gon
to move faster, so he rose and reached for the soap to lather his erection. He
let himself revel in the sensation, but only briefly before he entered his
padawan carefully until they were pressed flesh to flesh.
At the entry,
Xanatos truly came alive, head turning, neck straining as he found his master's
lips. He took one long kiss then drew his head away. He braced himself and
thrust back, meeting Qui-Gon's hips with powerful force. Qui-Gon ran his hands
across his padawan's chest, and touched his lips to Xanatos' shoulder. Exquisite
pressure built inside him, filling his body until he thought he could no longer
bear it. He came, holding Xanatos tight against the wall, release washing
through him like a drug, leaving him a little intoxicated and already thinking
about the next dose.
They stood there, locked together, for several
moments, the only sound their ragged breathing and the patter of the shower
against the wall. Finally Qui-Gon became aware that the water against his legs
was turning cold, and he reluctantly pulled away from his padawan. He turned to
stand under the spray, face tilted up as he let the liquid cascade down his
body, cooling the last of the heat that was threatening to rise up again. He
felt Xanatos' hands, on him, sliding slickly down his back and realized the
young man was washing him. He leaned back against his apprentice, giving the
young man access to his chest, but when Xanatos would have ventured further,
Qui-Gon stopped him.
"We need sleep," he murmured, turning to face his
padawan, giving him a soft kiss before maneuvering him under the water. Xanatos
stood under the spray, eyes locked with his master's as Qui-Gon washed him. When
he was done, they stepped out of the shower and dried off, tumbling into the bed
soon after.
They moved around a little, adjusting their position until
Xanatos' head lay on his master's chest, and settled down to sleep. Or so
Qui-Gon thought.
"Master, how do we proceed with the negotiations only a
week away?"
Qui-Gon shifted, enjoying the scrape of Xanatos' cheek
against his skin. "We leave for Nardir in the morning, to get a feel for their
side, then come back in a day or two to await the first meeting."
"Might
I...is it possible for me to stay here while you go to Nardir?"
"Stay
here? Why?"
"I could monitor things from this end, get an idea for what
the people of Telos think of this negotiation. And, I must confess," he looked
up, dark eyes turned pure black in the faint moonlight from the window, "I would
like a few days to get to know my father. I may never have this chance again."
For a long moment, Qui-Gon stared down at his padawan, his instincts at
war. If Xanatos became too attached, he could decide to forsake his trials and
remain on Telos. But the decision was his to make, not Qui-Gon's. And the desire
to put him on the next transport off the planet was ridiculous. Yoda wanted
Xanatos to make his own choice. So Qui-Gon would have to let him. "You may stay.
Just keep in contact with me, and let me know anything you find that might be a
problem."
"Thank you." Xanatos reached up to kiss him once on the lips,
then snuggled back into his side and quickly fell asleep.
As Qui-Gon lay
there in the bed, listening to Xanatos' slow, even breaths, he remembered
sleepily that he had planned to talk to the young man about his attitude. Ah,
well, it could wait. No use in waking him up for a conversation they could
easily have when Qui-Gon got back from Nardir.
Decision made, he pulled
Xanatos closer and fell asleep breathing in the scent of his padawan.
Qui-Gon left a sleeping Xanatos with a kiss early the next morning. He
wandered the streets of Thani, observing the early morning crowds as they rushed
off to work. According to the information supplied by the Council, eighty
percent of the population worked in some kind of professional capacity--a
curiously large number for any society. Any necessary manual labor, such as
serving the Governor or waiting on tables, was limited to service staff and paid
considerably well--more than in many other places he'd visited. Most of the
servants he'd seen so far had been off-worlders.
Why would the people of
Telos need more money? The clothes they wore fit perfectly, and were made of
fabrics he knew to be expensive. Most of them had flawless hair, well-kept
bodies and faces, and the best material possessions available. The
advertisements around the town were for shows and exhibits generally seen in
places such as the more well to do areas of Coruscant. Even the street cleaners
wore tailored uniforms. It was clear the citizens of Telos were benefiting from
the current contract with Nardir.
He pondered that idea as he hired a
small one-man craft to fly himself to Nardir. A borrowed ship flown by one of
the Governor's pilots was not the best way to enter the planet opposing
Telos--anything he said to the Nardirians would certainly be reported directly
back to Crion. And after the little bit of Thani society he'd seen today,
Qui-Gon wasn't sure he'd want his comments making their way back to Telos.
It was a relatively short trip from Thani to Sarta, the capital of
Nardir. Qui-Gon docked his ship and made his way through the streets of the
city, noting the differences between the midday crowds of Sarta and the citizens
he'd observed that morning in Thani. The Nardirians were mostly working class
people who supplied the labor, materials and factories to carry out the designs
and ideas of the Telosians. A profitable relationship for both worlds, though
the contract had been thought to favor the Telosians, a fact which made Crion's
decision to renegotiate that much more surprising.
Now that he could see
with his own eyes just how much the contract favored Telos, Qui-Gon wondered
anew why Crion would think it needed to be changed. He must be making a fortune
himself with the current situation. And it wasn't very likely the Governor was
planning to call for a contract that was more fair to the Nardirians.
Qui-Gon looked around at the low buildings lining the main street. A
variety of businesses had signs hanging over the doors or painted into windows,
advertising goods, services, and more than a few eating establishments. No one
was expecting him, so he had time to wander and eat before seeking out the
official government representatives. He chose a busy little cafe for his midday
meal.
Pleasant smells and loud conversations greeted him as he walked
in. There were booths off to one side, all full, and a few tables spaced inches
apart from one another. A long counter ran along the window. Qui-Gon took one of
the few empty seats at the counter and listened to the conversations around him
while he waited. Most of them revolved around families and work; he wondered if
he would hear similar discussions in restaurants in Thani.
A server
handed him a menu and hurried on her way to wait on others. He quickly made a
selection and went back to eavesdropping until she arrived to take his order.
While he waited for his food, the crowd began to thin out as people returned to
work. By the time his food arrived, the restaurant was half-empty, and the
server was moving much slower than before.
"Can I get you anything
else?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "This is fine, thank you." He looked
around as another group headed for the door. "Does this place always clear out
so fast?"
The server shrugged. "Midday meal is over. They all have to
get back on time so they get all their hours in. Some of them barely make enough
to get by as it is. Don't know what they'll do if those galactic bullies on the
other planet end up taking even more money."
"Are you referring to the
renegotiation of the contract between Telos and Nardir?"
"You call it
renegotiation. I call it legal space pirating. But then you don't have to see
these people come in here day after day and hear their problems."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "They don't make enough at the factories?"
"All I know is what I hear," the woman said hesitantly. "Beyond that, I
really couldn't say."
Apparently she had decided she'd said too much. Or
maybe she'd noticed the clothes and realized he was a Jedi. Qui-Gon let her off
the hook as he tasted the food and smiled encouragingly. "This is very good."
"Thanks, I'll tell the cook. Let me know if you need anything else," she
replied before hurrying off again.
The food was delicious, and Qui-Gon
made quick work of it. After he paid, he wandered a little further down the
street, but there was so little activity he didn't think he would learn much
more out there. He decided to make a quick com call back to Xanatos before
heading to the government complex. There was a booth on the next corner designed
to allow com calls in relative privacy from the street, so he stepped inside and
pulled out his comlink.
"Yes, Master?" Xanatos answered quickly, his
voice husky across the comm.
"What have you been up to, Padawan?"
"Sleeping, Master. Apparently I was very tired after last night."
Qui-Gon smiled. "I wonder why."
"You left without waking me,"
Xanatos pouted.
"You were sleeping so soundly I couldn't bring myself to
wake you. I'll be back soon enough."
"When?"
"I'm not sure.
Possibly tonight. I'll let you know after I've spoken with the local
representatives."
"Fine, but if you're not back, I'm going to sleep in
your bed."
At that, Qui-Gon laughed. "What's wrong with yours?"
"It doesn't smell like you."
"And mine does, even after the
servants have been in to clean?"
"Yes."
He laughed again. "Very
well, then. If I'm not back, you may sleep in there."
"Come back
anyway."
"We'll see. I must go. Behave yourself until I return."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon put the comlink away, still smiling as he
pushed open the doors to the booth, welcoming the rush of air. The silence was
helpful when talking on a comlink, but the glass booth was rather warm with the
sun beating down on it.
He made his way to the government complex
slowly, wandering through a park, enjoying the sounds of birds, the chatter of
the people taking a day off, and even the occasional hum of a hovercraft as it
sped toward a parking lot. He looked closely at the area around him. The trees
and grass were much more natural in this park. In Thani, the parks were
cultivated, carefully planned and trimmed to perfection; in Sarta grass grew
seemingly at random, and the trees and bushes in the parks were round and full.
Various and assorted forms of wildlife dashed around from one hiding place to
another, sometimes stopping long enough to pick up a gift of food from one of
the citizens having a late midday meal in the park.
The government
complex was just on the other side of the park. It was the most impressive
building Qui-Gon had seen in the city, yet it still managed to blend with the
natural surroundings. He could see no intentional design for the
area--everything seemed to be placed in some sort of haphazard manner, and yet
it worked better than the designed city of Thani. And the Living Force was
stronger here than it had been anywhere he'd visited on Telos.
He walked
into the building, surprised at the lack of security. One lone guard sat at a
desk just inside the main doors. She didn't bother to look up from her reader as
Qui-Gon approached. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to meet with the
Governor."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Not a specific one;
however, he will see me."
At that she finally looked up, saw his
clothes, and realized he was a Jedi. "Oh, the Governor's offices are down the
hall and to the left," she said, straightening her uniform. "The suite at the
end."
"Thank you," he replied with a brief nod. He found the offices,
hesitating for the briefest of moments to focus on the task ahead before
entering the door.
A petite humanoid woman sat behind the desk, staring
intently at a computer terminal. When the door clicked shut, she looked up.
"Hello. How can I help you?"
"I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I'm here to
see Governor Tashi."
"Oh, of course, Master Jinn. If you'd like to have
a seat I'm sure the Governor will be out very soon." She pushed a button on a
com unit and spoke quietly into a hand-held receiver, then turned back to
Qui-Gon. "Is there anything I can get you while you wait?"
"No, thank
you."
She nodded and went back to work at her terminal, the quiet click
of the keys the only sound for several moments. Finally, a dark-haired man
rushed into the reception from the back of the suite. "Master Jinn. I'm so sorry
to keep you waiting. I'm Governor Tashi."
"I have only been here a short
time, and I was not expected. It's good of you to see me on short notice."
"It is good of you to come." The Governor peered up at Qui-Gon. "If
you'll follow me, we can talk in my office."
Qui-Gon followed the
smaller man through a maze of hallways to a spacious office in the back of the
suite. Once inside, the Governor closed the door and waved a hand at a seat in
front of his desk. "Please, sit."
"Thank you." Qui-Gon took the seat and
waited to see how Tashi would begin.
"So, you're here about the
negotiations?" The governor leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, then, you can
tell me why Telos wishes to renegotiate the contract?"
The Jedi master
shook his head. "I don't know, Governor. I am only an impartial observer, here
to get the Nardirian side of the negotiation so that I have all the facts to
help facilitate your negotiations."
"Which is the Jedi way of saying,
'I'm not going to tell you anything I've figured out.' Very well. My people were
desperate when they signed the original contract with Telos. We had a planet
rich in materials, but no way to convert those materials into goods we needed to
survive. They agreed to the stipulation that only Telos could open
renegotiations because they had to." He spread his hands out, palms up. "From my
point of view, this could be a beneficial event."
"Some of your people
seem to think differently."
The Governor sighed. "The people are
convinced Telos would only open negotiations if it were to end up more
profitable for Telos in the end. They are tired of working for years and having
little to show for it, and now they think there will be even less when this
contract is changed."
"But you don't share their views?"
"I am
counting on the Jedi to ensure a fair arrangement."
Qui-Gon acknowledged
the man's trust with a nod. "Thank you. But there is only so much we can do. We
are merely facilitators."
"We?"
"My apprentice is back on Telos.
He will also be attending the negotiations." Qui-Gon thought it best not to
bring up the real reasons for Xanatos staying behind. Best not to let these
people know the young man was a Telosian, much less the son of the governor. "We
thought we could work more efficiently gathering information separately for a
day."
"Only a day? But surely you will stay for evening meal. And you
must accept the hospitality of our governor's quarters for the night. The guest
rooms are quite nice, even for a place that must seem like the back end of
nowhere after being on Telos."
After a moment's hesitation, Qui-Gon
nodded his acquiescence. Duty before personal desires. He had to remember that.
It was only one night.
"I'm coming over there."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Padawan. You will stay
where you are--out of sight of the Nardirians until the negotiations. There's
less chance for them to realize you're Telosian before the meetings start if you
are not seen until then."
"Then come home." The easy way Xanatos
referred to Thani as "home" only served to make Qui-Gon more anxious to get back
there. His apprentice needed reminders of who he was and whose agenda he served.
Perhaps they could go to Dagobah before returning to Coruscant. Nowhere was the
Living Force more prevalent than his own master's home world, and it offered few
distractions. Qui-Gon would have to talk to Yoda about the side visit before he
and Xanatos left Telos.
"I cannot. The Nardirians would never trust me
if I spent less than a day here and spent a week on Telos. It's suspicious
enough that you are not here with me."
"Then I will come there."
"No. Stay where you are. It's only for one night, Xanatos. One night,
and then I'll be back."
A long silence stretched across the space
between them, so long Qui-Gon wondered if his comlink was malfunctioning. "All
right," Xanatos answered finally. "But I don't like it."
"Nor do I,"
Qui-Gon agreed. "I must go--there's an official function I have to attend. I
will contact you again later."
"Promise?"
"Promise." With that,
he clicked off the com and stuffed it into one of the pockets of his robe before
hurrying off to find the grand dining room.
After the rich, heavy food at the Governor's quarters, the Nardirian fare
was a welcome change. Qui-Gon savored the tangy fish, concentrating on the taste
to keep himself in the moment, and his thoughts from straying to his apprentice.
"So, you're the great Jedi come to save Nardir."
Qui-Gon turned
to the councilman seated to his left. "Excuse me?"
The man waved a hand
toward the head of the table. "Governor Tashi has told us all about how the Jedi
would ensure the results of the negotiations would be in our favor."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon studied the man, wondering what kind of game he was
playing. "And how am I to do that, Councilman Yo?"
"By forcing the
Telosian government to adhere to the fairness that all self-respecting
governments in the Republic strive for, thereby causing them to adjust the
contract so that Nardir gets its fair share of the profit from our association,"
Yo recited. "Or so Tashi says."
"I'm afraid I am only here as a
facilitator, Councilman. I cannot force anyone to do anything."
Yo
snorted. "I suspected as much. Ever since Tashi cast off his bonded mate and
took another into his home, he has touted this negotiation as his glory day,
hoping to distract the public from his shame with thoughts of money."
"His shame?" The report given to him by the Jedi Council had mentioned
the Governor of Nardir had recently dissolved a bond and then bonded with
another, but no mention had been made of anything shameful. "There was a
scandal?"
"Of course! One does not dissolve a bond. And to do so
publicly, while leading the people...such a thing is unheard of on this planet.
Nardirians mate for life, Jedi--did your preparation for this negotiation fail
to mention that?"
It had, but Qui-Gon refrained from admitting it
outright. "Most species mate for life, but even so a disolvement is not always
such an unusual event."
"Perhaps elsewhere that is true. But here we
take our bonds very seriously. I would never do such a thing to my wife, nor
would any self-respecting Nardirian." Yo looked at Tashi again and laughed
harshly. "The promise of a better contract now that he requested the Jedi is the
only reason Tashi is still in his office." He studied his plate for a moment
before casting a sidelong glance at Qui-Gon. "There are those who never believed
him in the first place. His failure with these negotiations could be cause
enough to remove him. By force, if necessary."
Qui-Gon acknowledged that
statement with a brief nod before turning to the dessert that had just been
placed in front of him. So the outcome of these negotiations could be the
catalyst for a civil war on Nardir. Wonderful.
Certainly no pressure for
everything to go perfectly.
After a fitful night's sleep and meetings with several government members
the following morning, Qui-Gon found himself in his rented ship on his way back
to Telos. As he walked back to the Governor's quarters, he was struck again by
the perfect falseness of his surroundings. The contrast to Nardir was even more
obvious after being surrounded by the natural beauty on Sarta.
A young
man sitting at the bottom of the steps to the Governor's quarters reminded
Qui-Gon of Xanatos and the resemblance speeded his step. As Qui-Gon drew closer,
the young man looked up, saw him and stood. With a start, Qui-Gon realized it
was Xanatos, dressed in a deep blue jacket and pants. White cuffs and a
small white collar peeked out from the edges of the dark material, a color of
blue that nearly matched the eyes that lit up as Qui-Gon stopped in front of
him.
"Master!" Xanatos moved as if to embrace Qui-Gon, then stopped
suddenly and bowed instead. "It is good to have you back."
"It is good
to see you as well, Padawan." They turned as one, climbing the steps toward the
main doors. "Though it has only been one day since I left."
Xanatos
reached out, his fingers grazing his master's arm as he straightened his own
sleeve. "A very long day."
"Yes, it was at that."
"So what was
the situation on Nardir?"
"How do you mean?" Qui-Gon answered question
with question, mindful of the openness of the hallway and who could be
listening.
Xanatos clasped his hands behind his back. "Will the
Nardirians be difficult during the negotiations?"
"I'm not sure what you
mean by 'difficult,' Padawan. I imagine they will simply be looking out for
their own interests, as will the Telosians."
"Ah, so we should plan for
a nice, long stay while they argue, then?"
"We shall see." Qui-Gon
responded as they reached his room. Xanatos followed him through the door and
closed it behind them, waiting until the older man had put his bag down before
spinning him around and trapping him against the bed. "I missed you, Master."
"And I you," Qui-Gon answered, allowing his student to lean in for one
kiss before he turned toward the bed, pushing Xanatos back with his body. He
felt the flash of anger and hurt shoot through his padawan.
"Is there a
problem, Master?" Xanatos asked, his tone formal as he stepped back a few paces.
Qui-Gon finished unpacking the items in his travel bag and placing them
on the bed beside it, each movement deliberate as he chose his words carefully.
"You are out of uniform," he answered finally, turning to face his apprentice.
"My father bought these for me. We aren't on duty, so I thought--"
"We are on duty," Qui-Gon interrupted. "We're on a mission, and you are
here to represent the Jedi, not the Governor of Telos. If you don't want to wear
the Jedi uniform, you can always go home." Not that he really had any intention
of sending Xanatos home, but the need to wear the Jedi uniform, to show their
objectivity, should have been obvious to his apprentice.
Xanatos' eyes
blazed with anger. "Home? This is my home!" The young man took a deep
breath. "Or at least it was once."
Fear swelled inside Qui-Gon, the
worries about Xanatos and his father returning in a rush. "You are too close to
this situation," he said, voice tightly controlled. "Perhaps it would be best if
you went back to Coruscant after all."
"Master, no!" Xanatos took the
few steps forward that left him practically touching his master. "I wore the
clothes because I thought they would please you. I'll be happy to change back
into my robes." He reached out one hand, cupping Qui-Gon's cheek. "Just please
don't send me away from you."
Qui-Gon searched the deep blue eyes, no
longer certain when his apprentice was being completely honest--or entirely
trusting of his own judgment in the matter. He found no signs of deception
lurking in Xanatos' gaze.
Finally, Xanatos broke the silence. "You would
send me away from you, separate us, over clothing?" The pleading in his voice
was now combined with a fair amount of anger. "You would deprive us both of
this?" He leaned in, licking at his master's lips for a moment before parting
his mouth and delving inside, molding his lips to Qui-Gon's in a fierce kiss.
Qui-Gon shoved his travel bag and clothing out of the way, scrambling
back onto the bed and dragging his padawan with him. Xanatos straddled his
master's lap, his rear pressed against Qui-Gon's groin, and rocked slightly,
drawing a growl from the older man, who grabbed his arms and pulled him down for
another kiss.
Several moments later, Xanatos pulled back to remove his
jacket and shirt. "I can stay, then?" he asked as he began removing Qui-Gon's
tunics.
"You can stay," Qui-Gon agreed. "But I want you in Jedi robes
from now on."
"Really, Master?" Xanatos replied with a grin. "I thought
you wanted me wearing nothing right now."
The Jedi Master's eyes
narrowed. "Xanatos...."
"Yes, Master," the young man answered dutifully,
leaning down to tease one of Qui-Gon's nipples with his tongue. "Jedi robes.
Understood." He bit down lightly, causing Qui-Gon to arch up and put more
pressure on his suddenly hard shaft.
Qui-Gon rolled, turning Xanatos
onto his back and pinning the young man beneath him. Maybe he should just keep
him trapped like this until the negotiations. At least then he couldn't get into
trouble. And no one needed to worry about what kind of clothes he was wearing.
Xanatos went to work on Qui-Gon's leggings, thoughts of clothing quickly
forgotten as they stripped theirs away and put the outside world aside, lost in
each other.
For the next few days, Qui-Gon kept a close eye on his padawan. Xanatos was
on his best behavior--the model of a perfect padawan. Which only worried his
master more.
At his best, Xanatos was never the perfect padawan. The
perfect student as far as grades and learning, perhaps, but he was always a
little too independent, a bit too amused by his own faade. Now...nothing. He
acted the same, but the sense of amusement was gone. In public, he was almost
detached. And in private he was more intense than ever. Qui-Gon had bruises that
matched his padawan's fingers in several places from times in the past few days
when the young man had held on to him as if he never intended to let go.
Teaching a padawan was not supposed to involve breaking his spirit, no
matter what some of the masters at the Temple thought. It worried the Jedi
Master that he might have broken his apprentice completely in the act of trying
to keep him.
He looked back over his shoulder once more. Xanatos stood
just behind him, face serene, dark blue eyes cool, surveying the hangar with
detachment.
Qui-Gon checked the lists of arrivals. Still several minutes
before the Nardirian contingent was due to arrive--enough time for a lesson.
Perhaps it was time to shake his padawan up a bit. He concentrated on the
previous night, building up a wave of lust inside himself, and then sent the
emotion through their bond in a rush.
Xanatos' eyes widened, and his
lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten them briefly. He threw a frustrated
glance at his master before averting his eyes and exerting control over his
feelings. A moment more, and he was the perfect padawan again--almost. A hint of
a smile played at the corner of his lips, one that just barely reached his eyes.
With a smile of his own, Qui-Gon faced front to watch the Nardirian
shuttle land. The situation was looking better already.
"It was a good start, wasn't it, Master?"
Qui-Gon paused in the
middle of shedding his tunics. "What was?"
"Evening meal. My father and
the Nardirians were getting along nicely. That bodes well for the negotiations,
does it not?"
"Perhaps. We shall see how they get along when there is a
contract on the table." Tunics and boots dealt with, Qui-Gon turned to Xanatos,
who was sitting on the bed, still fully clothed. "You are wearing entirely too
much clothing, my padawan."
The young man blinked out of his reverie and
smiled up at his master. "Say that again."
"What?"
"'My
padawan.'" He reached up and caressed Qui-Gon's cheek. "I love the way your
voice sounds when you say that here, with no one else around."
Qui-Gon
sat next to him and leaned in, mouth close to Xanatos' ear. "My padawan," he
said softly. He delighted in the shiver that raced through the young man's body.
"My padawan," he growled again, tongue reaching out to trace the shell of his
apprentice's ear. When he reached the lobe, he stopped to nibble at it while
hastily removing the layered tunics Xanatos wore.
"My master," the young
man breathed as he pulled at his boots until they came off. Their lips met as
each man fumbled with the other's leggings, tugging and shoving until they were
both naked. Qui-Gon fell back onto the bed, legs still dangling over the side,
pulling Xanatos along without breaking the kiss.
Xanatos' tongue dipped
into his master's mouth, mapping the textures there before withdrawing slowly to
wander down Qui-Gon's chin, along the strong column of his neck, nipping at the
muscle that strained as Qui-Gon arched up against him.
Xanatos circled
one brown nipple slowly before sucking on the tip until it was hard. Qui-Gon
writhed in pleasure beneath him as the second nipple was given the same
treatment. Sparing a second for a grin up at his master, Xanatos continued his
trip down his master's stomach, across his navel, lowering himself to his knees
on the floor to make his way through the patch of dark curls below.
Without warning he took the length of the older man's shaft completely
in his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the pressure of the suction he employed.
Qui-Gon arched up violently, as he grabbed his padawan's head and held it in
place as he thrust into Xanatos' mouth, lost in intense pleasure.
He
came quickly, pumping his hips into the talented mouth until he could no longer
move. Qui-Gon lay there, gasping for breath, his relaxed legs offering no
resistance as Xanatos pulled them onto his shoulders and slipped a finger inside
him, stretching the muscle in preparation for his entry.
There was a
grin on his padawan's face as he watched his master writhing and bucking beneath
him. Qui-Gon fought off the haze of passion enough to ask, "Something amuses
you?"
"Only that it is somewhat of a novelty to do this in a bed, my
Master." He looked down at his feet on the floor and added, "Or at least mostly
in a bed."
Qui-Gon smiled. "We shall have to try it again sometime."
"Yes. But for now...." Xanatos entered him in one quick thrust, hitting
a spot that sent lightening-quick pleasure arcing through him, and he lost
himself again to the feelings churning inside.
The moment Qui-Gon woke the next morning, he realized something was wrong. A
quick check assured him that all inside the room was well. The door was closed,
his lightsaber was on the table next to him, and his padawan was asleep in his
arms. So what was the problem?
Then he heard the raised voices in the
hallway. He sat up, rousing Xanatos as he moved away to concentrate on the
voices. He knew the loudest one--Crion's voice was unmistakable. The others were
not familiar enough that he could make them out from here, but they were coming
from the direction of the Nardirians' rooms.
"Master?" Xanatos asked,
voice husky with the remnants of sleep. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure."
Qui-Gon climbed out of bed and pulled on his leggings and boots and reached for
his robe, pulling it closed tightly to hide his bare chest. "But we'd better go
check it out."
Xanatos followed his master's example and threw on his
leggings and boots. He was still pulling on his robe as Qui-Gon opened the door.
The Nardirians were only a few doors down from the rooms the Jedi had been
given, easily visible as soon as Qui-Gon walked out of the room. Crion was
standing with the three representatives from Nardir and a half-dressed woman
that Qui-Gon recognized as one of the servers from the dining room.
All
of them fell silent as the Jedi approached, except for the woman, who was
sobbing quietly into the blanket she held around her shoulders. "What happened?"
Qui-Gon asked.
Councilman Yo stared at the ground. The other two
Nardirians glanced at each other before Councilman Trar, the senior of the two,
answered, "It is a matter for Nardirian justice, Master Jinn. Nothing you need
to concern yourself over; however, I fear we are going to have to postpone the
negotiations a few more days."
"Postpone again?" Crion bellowed. "These
negotiations have been postponed three times already. The contract ends in one
week--if there is no agreement, Telos will find its materials elsewhere."
The fact that it was a rather empty threat apparently made no difference
to Yo. "I doubt that Telos will be able to find a contract that benefits them as
greatly as this one does already!"
"That is not the point. The
negotiations must go on as planned. You cannot postpone them just because one of
your representatives slept with someone!"
"If I may interrupt," Qui-Gon
interjected quickly, using the Force behind his voice to ensure their silence.
"We were brought here to facilitate a smooth negotiation. If someone would
explain what happened it is possible we could salvage something out of this
predicament."
Crion sighed as he turned to face the Jedi Master. "When
Councilman Yo did not show up for an early meeting with his colleagues, they
came to check on him and found him in bed with Merlena. That is all that
happened."
Qui-Gon turned to Yo, who was still staring at the ground.
"Councilman Yo, what happened?"
"I do not know. The young lady knocked
on my door to give me a drink and turn down the bed, as she did for my fellow
councilmen. I remember nothing beyond that until they woke me this morning and
she was there...." He shook his head, unable or unwilling to say more.
"Now they want to go home because of what he did," Crion complained. "He
did it on purpose, I swear it!"
Qui-Gon studied the accused councilman.
He sensed the Nardirian's confusion. And his shame. If he had indeed slept with
the woman, it hadn't been with an ulterior motive. "Surely you do not all need
to go back to Nardir for this? Could Councilman Yo return to your planet while
the rest of you remain to work on the negotiations?"
"We have been
witnesses to a serious offense, Master Jinn; we must go back and give testimony.
To sleep with a woman out of wedlock is bad enough; to sleep with one when
already bonded is a crime." Trar moved to Yo's side. "Gather your belongings. We
leave for Nardir at once."
After he watched Yo go into his room, Qui-Gon
turned back to Trar. "What will happen to him?"
"He will return to
Nardir to stand trial. If he is found guilty, he will be sentenced accordingly.
And as witnesses, it is the duty of Natni and myself to return with him.
Suitable replacements will be sent for the negotiations in a few days, when they
have had time to fully prepare."
"Days? This is ridiculous." Crion
turned to the Jedi. "Qui-Gon, tell them to stay."
"I have no authority
over them, Governor. If they feel they must return, I cannot stop them."
For a moment, Crion looked as if he would argue, but he relented. "Fine.
Go if you must."
Trar cleared his throat. "There is one other thing. We
would like to take the girl with us. She has committed an offense--"
"No!" Crion answered quickly. "She is a Telosian citizen under my
employ. If there is to be any kind of punishment, I will deal with it. But you
will not take her. It is out of the question!"
"Very well," Trar
answered reluctantly as Yo returned with his bag. "We will leave at once, and be
in touch about our replacements."
They watched the Nardirians leave in
silence. When they were completely out of sight, Crion turned to the shaking
woman. "There will be no punishment. You will be demoted, however. You knew how
important these negotiations were to our people, and yet your sense of duty
failed you."
The woman stared at the floor, her voice barely above a
whisper as she responded, "I am sorry, Governor."
"I know. Go on now.
You'll report to the kitchens later this morning."
"Thank you sir." She
bowed quickly and ran off toward the servants' quarters.
As Crion
watched the woman go, Qui-Gon sensed an air of satisfaction about the man that
was at odds with his proclaimed upset at the postponement of the negotiations.
Before he could think on it further, Crion turned back to face him, taking in
his appearance. Then he turned to his son, who had been standing silently beside
Qui-Gon all along, and noticed his state of undress under his robes. His eyes
flickered to the open doorway of the one room they'd both emerged from.
Qui-Gon's room.
Qui-Gon watched with apprehension as understanding
dawned on Crion's face. He fixed the Jedi Master with a furious stare then
stalked off without a word, leaving Qui-Gon to wonder just what the man would do
with the information. If he called the Council and asked for new negotiators
because of his newfound knowledge, it could be the end of Xanatos' chance to be
a Knight. Which would leave the young man here, on Telos, where Qui-Gon had no
doubt Crion wanted him.
"Master?" Xanatos placed a hand on Qui-Gon's
arm, pulling him toward the room. "We should finish getting dressed."
"Of course." They returned to the room in silence. As they were
dressing, Qui-Gon decided to bring it out into the open. "He knows."
Xanatos didn't even pretend not to know what he meant. "Leave him to me.
I can handle him."
"What do you mean, 'handle'?"
"He wants me to
be happy. When he realizes that you and the Jedi are what make me happy, he will
not stand in the way. You have nothing to fear from him."
Qui-Gon let it
go at that for the time being. Any action would only serve to make them look
guilty. But he resolved to be very careful. And very watchful.
For the rest of the day, Qui-Gon again kept a close eye on his padawan. He
watched as Xanatos teased his father out of his bad mood at breakfast. He
watched the young man joke with a few of the servants, listened as they called
him "Young Master Xanatos" and he didn't correct them. Technically the title was
still his due as the son of the Governor, but Xanatos' easy acceptance of it was
troubling.
They sparred that afternoon. Xanatos gave it his full effort,
drawing on the Force as easily as he breathed and making it difficult for his
master to beat him, but Qui-Gon sensed it was more about winning the game than
it was about using the Force for defense. There was a fierceness in Xanatos'
fighting and an enjoyment in every little victory that was not appropriate for a
Jedi.
As they finished sparring, one of the servants came in and
informed them that Crion was about to deliver a message to the Telosian people
in the holo room, if they cared to watch. Qui-Gon glanced questioningly at
Xanatos.
"He said nothing to me this morning about an announcement,"
Xanatos said with a shrug.
Qui-Gon nodded to the servant, who led them
both to a large office, with a desk and various adornments that seemed to serve
only to make the person who sat there look important. Several holo recorders sat
at the other end of the office, trained on the desk.
Crion joined them,
giving Qui-Gon a cool look. "Master Jinn, it is good of you to be here. I am
about to let my people know why the negotiations have stalled. They are
anxiously awaiting the outcome of the negotiations, and I fear if I do not tell
them something they will grow quite angry."
"Then perhaps you should
tell them something that will ease their worries," Qui-Gon agreed.
"Yes.
Please, have a seat." He gestured toward a row of chairs to one side, out of
view of the holo recorders, but near the desk. "We begin in just a moment."
The two Jedi sat as Crion situated himself behind the desk, checking his
appearance in a mirror and going over his notes one last time before he clicked
a button on his desk. Bright lights flicked on from the camera area, and after a
moment to adjust to the glare, the Governor hit another switch, and the holo
recorders began to whir.
"My fellow Telosians, I bring you news that may
be unsettling. The negotiations have again been stalled. The representatives
sent by the government of Nardir encountered a problem this morning that forced
them to return home. They promise to contact us in a few days with the names of
replacement negotiators."
He paused for effect, schooling his features
in a stern manner. "I assure you, the negotiations will go on in a few days.
There is nothing to be concerned about. We will have the contract we deserve.
Thank you."
The switches were turned off, and the room was once more
silent and relatively dark after the harsh glare of the lights. "This will
hopefully keep the people from any acts of aggression toward Nardirians who are
on planet," Crion said as he made his way to the chairs.
"That was
broadcast into every home?"
"Yes, and into the areas with public
screens. The news programs will replay it as well." He frowned at Qui-Gon as if
daring him to question anything. "My people are very well informed."
"I
can imagine," Qui-Gon said dryly.
Crion turned toward the door. "It is
time for the evening meal. Let us adjourn to the dining hall."
Xanatos
followed immediately, leaving Qui-Gon to trail behind. This promised to be one
of the most uncomfortable meals he'd ever been through--he was certainly in no
hurry to get to it.
The evening meal was followed by a musical concert. Normally Qui-Gon loved
music, but he found he could not concentrate. His mind was preoccupied with all
that had happened. There was still something off about the Nardirian scandal
from that morning.
He found it hard to believe that the man who so
honestly scorned Governor Tashi for treating his bond so casually would suddenly
find a serving girl so irresistible that he was willing to go against his own
code, as well as his country's law. Perhaps the woman herself would have a few
answers. He would have to track her down and see if she could be of some help.
One way or another, he was determined to get to the heart of what had happened.
Xanatos leaned over to whisper, "Is something wrong, Master? Would you
prefer to leave?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm fine," he whispered back.
"Let's stay and listen."
His apprentice said no more, but Qui-Gon
noticed Xanatos was now watching him as much as Qui-Gon had been watching the
young man all day. The Jedi Master released his anxiety into the Force and
willed himself into a state of calm. After a few minutes, Xanatos relaxed and
turned his attention back to the music, leaving Qui-Gon no choice but to do the
same.
"Padawan...are you happy being a Jedi?"
Xanatos looked up from the
chair, the boot he had just pulled off his foot dangling from his hand in
mid-air. "Of course, Master. Why wouldn't I be?"
Qui-Gon sat down on the
bed, the doubts he'd had during the day first in his mind. "I've watched you
today, and you seem so much happier here than you have been in recent months. It
made me wonder if you were questioning your decision to be a Jedi."
"I
never decided to be a Jedi; I have simply always been one. It is who I am," he
replied, removing the other boot and joining his master on the bed. "If I am
happier here, then it is because of you. Our new relationship gives me a peace
that I have never known before."
"You're sure that is all it is?"
Xanatos smiled. "Shall I convince you?" he asked as he leaned in to kiss
his master deeply. Qui-Gon gave in and let himself be distracted, but as he lay
there in the dark, long after Xanatos had fallen asleep, he realized that he may
have been seduced, but he was still not convinced.
It was a long time
before he managed to find sleep.
All through the morning meal, Qui-Gon listened to the easy conversation
between Crion and Xanatos without really hearing the words. The tone was enough,
and if it hadn't been, the similarities in the voices, combined with the
thickening of Xanatos' accent would have been telling all on their own.
The young man fit in without an effort here. He was accepted, admired,
waited on. It would be so easy for him to give up everything he'd worked for and
stay.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yes,
Padawan?"
"Father was asking if I would like to see my mother's
hometown, as it's not far from here. We'd only be gone a couple of hours. May I
go?"
"Certainly. I'll see you both at the midday meal then?"
"Yes, of course. Thank you." Xanatos stood as his father did, bowed to
his master, and they left.
Qui-Gon stared down at the mostly uneaten
food on his plate. He was being foolish. He could do nothing to alter Xanatos'
path. It was his padawan's choice, and Qui-Gon could not choose for him. If he
decided to leave the Jedi, then so be it.
Best to focus on something he
could affect. That thought in mind, he left the table in search of the kitchens,
and the servant he thought might know more than she was telling.
A few
questions in the kitchen had him more concerned about the incident. Merlena had
never been assigned there. One of the other kitchen workers said she'd been
assigned to a kitchen at one of the offices in the middle of the city.
More curious than ever, Qui-Gon strolled the streets, careful to appear
as though he was any other visitor to the city. He was convinced Crion was
behind the incident, and if he was right, the Governor would likely have him
followed.
He quickly identified his two watchers and lost them before
making his way to the office building where Merlena was supposed to be working.
It was easy enough to get into the kitchen; he'd made a habit of using kitchens
as his entry to buildings. They were busy and generally had numerous entrances,
which made slipping in unnoticed a simple feat.
Once inside, he quickly
located the woman was standing over an oven, her face flushed. She looked less
than happy. He stepped up to her, looking around for anyone who might be paying
too much attention to them. When he found no one, he called out her name.
She turned, startled, then bowed. "Master Jinn! I did not expect to see
you again. What brings you to this place?"
"I was looking for you. After
what happened yesterday, I was concerned. Are you all right?"
She held
out her hands, palms up, glanced down at her sweat-dampened dress, and lifted
her limp hair. "Do I look all right?"
"Then you are not happy here?"
Merlena laughed. "Only a fool would be happy here. No, I am not happy,
sir, and I have my own stupidity to thank for it. I should have known better."
"So you did know what your actions would do to the negotiations if you
were caught?"
"Of course. But he put me up to it. Came to my room
that afternoon and told me it was my duty to Telos, and that there'd be a big,
fat promotion in it if I just went in there and played my part. And then when it
was over, the Governor banished me to this place."
"The Governor talked
you into framing the Councilman?"
She laughed again, the sound more
harsh this time. "The Governor, be seen talking to a servant in her room? Ha!
No, sir, it was his son that came to me about it."
"His son?" Qui-Gon
barely managed to force the words out. "Xanatos?"
She nodded. "Yes,
sir," she said, then held up her arm, pointing at four fading bruises. "Shook me
so hard he left these as a reminder to keep my mouth shut. And I would have, if
he'd done as he'd promised."
"You're sure it was Xanatos?"
"No
one in that household could mistake anyone else for that one. His arrival was
heralded as some kind of miracle. The entire staff was ordered to treat him like
royalty."
She'd lied the morning before. Was she lying now? The idea
that Xanatos....
"Who knows about this?"
"Nobody. I haven't been
allowed to talk to any of my friends, and I don't trust the people around here
not to turn me in. But you, you might be able to help me. The Jedi are known for
helping people, that no-good son of the Governor aside, and I don't want to
spend the rest of my life working in this place."
He ignored her comment
about Xanatos for the moment. He had to think, to see if he even believed it
could be possible. "I'll see what I can do. Thank you for telling me."
"I'll testify, if you want--if you can get me off the planet after."
"I don't think it will come to that." He wasn't anxious for her
accusations to become public, true or not. "Thank you again."
Qui-Gon
slipped out of the kitchen as easily as he'd slipped in. He wandered the
streets, ending up on a bench in one of the perfectly planned parks Thani was
known for. He'd known Xanatos was getting along with his father, but could Crion
really have talked him into doing this?
How badly would Xanatos have to
want his father's approval, to be driven to cooperating in such a nasty scheme?
It would mean he'd gone against the code, against his training, lied to his
master....
It couldn't be true. The woman was lying; it was that simple.
He would go back to the Governor's quarters, tell his padawan about it, and they
would uncover the real truth together. Xanatos would open his eyes and see his
father for what he really was--a greedy, power-hungry manipulator. And then they
could turn this mission over to someone else and leave.
His mind made
up, Qui-Gon rose and headed for the Governor's quarters.
Qui-Gon checked his room first, but Xanatos wasn't there. He wandered
through the maze of hallways toward the exercise room, when he passed by the
door to Crion's study. The door was slightly open, and he could hear Crion
speaking. Perhaps the governor knew where Xanatos was.
He reached the
door and raised his hand to knock, but the next words he heard stopped him.
"We'll have to bide our time until the army arrives." That was definitely Crion.
But who was he talking to? Qui-Gon pulled out his comlink and flicked the
setting to record. It was usually used for notes on a report, but it would work
for this as well. "It'll be a close call, but I think we can manage."
"When does the army arrive?" Xanatos. Qui-Gon nearly dropped the
comlink. So it was true. The logical part of his mind accepted the fact, even as
the rest of him rejected it. It made sense--he was taken by his father and his
father's power, and he'd been led astray. There was still hope for him.
With a strength he hadn't known he possessed, Qui-Gon shoved his
emotional reactions to the revelation aside and paid attention to the
conversation again.
"That was the soonest they could be here," Crion
said.
"You should have hired someone closer."
Something was
slammed down on wood. "Perhaps you would have liked to handle that little
arrangement as well? You handled everything else so nicely. With the exception
of your 'master'."
"What?"
"Jinn is suspicious."
"He
knows nothing. Just leave that to me. Now, do you think your announcement will
make the people angry enough for war?"
Qui-Gon stifled a sigh that was
more of a half-sob. His padawan was in there, calmly discussing a war he was in
the middle of instigating. This couldn't be real. He would have known before now
if it were really happening. It had to be a dream.
"...announcement on
camera. Once I do that, the people will be straining to go to war. Telos will
have the science, the resources, and the factories, and the people will be rich.
The fools will love me for it, and they'll never realize how much wealth I gain
from it."
"We gain, Father. We."
"Of course. Assuming your
master doesn't mess this up."
"I told you to leave him to me. I can
handle him. I've handled him so far, haven't I?"
Handled? Now Qui-Gon
was past upset and he could feel the anger building up inside. He struggled to
keep his mind clear of the muddying power of the anger as he listened to Crion
respond. "You never mentioned that 'handling' him involved sleeping with him."
At least that hadn't been part of the plan. Or not a part ordered by
Crion at any rate. Satisfaction coursed through him at the hurt he could hear in
the Governor's voice. The man was upset that his son had been sleeping with his
master. Good.
"Whatever it takes," Xanatos answered coldly. "Speaking of
which, I should go find him."
Footsteps grew louder as Xanatos headed
toward the door. Qui-Gon turned off the recorder on the comlink and ducked into
the nearest room, waiting until the footsteps faded away down the hall before he
ventured out.
So, Xanatos was in league with his father. Qui-Gon could
try to deny it all he liked, he could reason, rationalize, make excuses, but in
the end, the result was the same. The young man had given into the lure of power
and money. It might not be possible to save him.
But he had to try.
He would play along, pretend like nothing happened, and then tomorrow,
during the broadcast, he would strike. Qui-Gon glanced down at the comlink,
still in his hand, and put it away carefully. The words it contained would
ensure that Crion damned himself in front of his own people tomorrow. Until
then, all he could do was wait. And shut himself off from emotion. The slightest
hint that he knew what was going on and there was no telling what would happen.
It was going to be a long day.
With the use of Force-enhanced speed, Qui-Gon just managed to beat Xanatos
to the bedroom. He hurried into the bathroom, only to came right back out as his
apprentice entered. "Good afternoon, Padawan." The normal, even tones of his own
voice surprised him.
"Good afternoon, Master," Xanatos replied with a
bow. "Did you enjoy your walk?"
"It was certainly interesting." He met
his padawan in the center of the room, leaning down for a kiss. "How was your
trip with your father?"
"It was wonderful! I feel like I have more of a
sense of my history now. I've always had the tradition of the Jedi to ground me,
but adding this to it is almost like having a whole new life."
Or
exactly like it. Qui-Gon wondered if they'd really even gone to his mother's
birthplace. More likely they'd gone off somewhere to plan their war. Anger and
betrayal threatened to overtake his sense of duty, but he ruthlessly squashed
them. Time enough later to feel the pain, plenty of time when he was either
helping Xanatos break away from the dark, or....
No. He wouldn't
consider the alternatives. For now, he had to act his part. And if he'd learned
anything as a Jedi, it was how to act. The skill had come in handy often on
missions. If he pulled this one off, he should get an award.
"Master?"
Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no. I was just thinking about midday meal. I
haven't eaten today." Nor did he want to, but he had to keep up appearances.
"Neither have I. Shall we see if we can raid the kitchen?"
Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Excellent idea."
They ate together at a
table in the kitchen, discussing the differences between Telos and some of the
other planets they'd been to. Qui-Gon could almost believe the conversation he'd
heard earlier was a sick dream, and that this was any other mission. Xanatos
acted as if nothing had changed. Of course, to him, nothing had changed. To him,
Qui-Gon was still a fool, following along wherever his apprentice chose to lead
him.
Once again, he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He couldn't
afford the distraction and pain they would cause. Xanatos would sense his
emotions, and it was imperative that Xanatos not realize his master knew his
plans. Or at least part of them.
"Do you know if Crion has heard from
Nardir?"
"He has not, and it worries him," Xanatos answered. "He thinks
they are stalling in hopes that he will call the negotiations off." A hard note
entered his voice as he added, "If they are, they'll be disappointed."
"Padawan..." Qui-Gon reprimanded. The young man's feelings came as no
surprise, but the fact that he'd allowed them to show indicated just how
confident he was he'd fooled his master. However, under normal circumstances, he
would chastise his apprentice for such a comment, so he had to say something.
The young man frowned. "I am simply commenting on my father's actions,
Master."
"It is not the words I have a problem with, but the tone. We
are supposed to be neutral parties here."
"He's my father. Do you really
think the Nardirians will believe I'm completely neutral if they find out?"
With a sigh, Qui-Gon rose from the table. "If they find out you are his
son, we will deal with it. I'm sure Master Yoda thought about that before he
sent us here." Privately, he wondered if his master had thought any of this out.
If he'd known what was going to happen, why hadn't he at least said something?
Again he pushed the questions aside. If his plan failed--not that he had
any intention of letting that happen--then this would be the last day he would
spend with his padawan. That thought was quickly buried. If all went as he
intended, then he would need a strong relationship with Xanatos to get through
to him and help him back to the right path.
With that in mind, he
resolved to spend the rest of the afternoon with his padawan. It would be a
solid memory for the two of them to build on afterwards.
And he could
keep an eye on the young man.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook his head
faintly. He needed a switch to turn off his emotions. "I was just thinking about
what we should do for the rest of the day."
"Well, I was hoping to show
you something later, but not until after evening meal."
Suspicion reared
its ugly head, but this time he distanced himself from his emotions enough to
keep from feeling anything his apprentice would notice. He examined the
possibilities. It was doubtful Xanatos would give him advance notice if he were
planning to spring some sort of trap. Whatever plan the young man had for the
evening was probably relatively harmless.
Not that he intended to let
his guard down for a moment.
"Perhaps we should spar a while then?"
Qui-Gon suggested. Xanatos relied a great deal on his connection through the
Force to his master when they sparred, using it when possible to gain advantages
by reading Qui-Gon's moves ahead of time. The connection that method required
between them often made his apprentice easier to read; perhaps he could learn
more about Xanatos' plans.
"I like that idea." A smile lit up Xanatos'
face. Qui-Gon noticed how quickly his apprentice could smile when the sentiment
didn't reach his eyes. Only the smiles that emerged slowly seemed to be genuine.
Assuming, of course, that any smile Xanatos gave him was real.
Qui-Gon began gathering up his empty plates and cups, raising an eyebrow
at Xanatos when he did not follow suit. The young man sighed, but picked up his
mess and took it to the sink before following his master out of the kitchen.
They went back to Qui-Gon's room and changed before heading to the
exercise room. The spacious room held only a few pieces of equipment that were
easily moved aside to leave them plenty of space to maneuver.
After
defeating Xanatos twice, Qui-Gon realized he was not going to learn anything
more from his apprentice's mind. When had the young man's shields become so
strong? How much had he been hiding from his master--and for how long?
Fine, so he couldn't learn anything about the plans. He could still
learn, however, and prepare himself for possibilities he wouldn't have even
considered just a day earlier. He had to prepare himself for any eventuality. So
he studied Xanatos' fighting style, looking for weaknesses, and further
distanced himself from the pain such precautions would have caused if he'd
allowed himself to feel it.
Two more matches, one of the victories
nearly going to Xanatos as Qui-Gon intentionally gave the young man openings. It
allowed him to see how his apprentice would react to various approaches, and at
the same time it gave the young man more confidence, a false sense of security
that could work to Qui-Gon's advantage if, Force forbid, he had to face his
padawan in a real fight.
"Enough," Qui-Gon panted as he helped his
apprentice up from his narrow defeat.
"Afraid I will defeat you if we
spar again?" The teasing comment held a note of pride.
"Fear leads to
anger, anger leads to hate--"
"--hate leads to suffering. I know,
Master. Still, I've found that sometimes a little fear is a good thing; it makes
you careful. Under the right circumstances, it can keep you alive."
Qui-Gon reached for a towel and wiped his face. "Perhaps." Another piece
of insight to file away for the future. "There is such a thing as being too
careful, however. Sometimes you have to take a few risks to achieve your
objectives."
"You can't achieve anything if you're dead."
"There
is no death, there is only the Force." It was a debate they'd had more than once
since Xanatos had stopped deferring to everything his master said and begun
expressing his own point of view. Given his new view of his apprentice, however,
the argument took on new layers of meaning. "Your thoughts on the subject have
some merit. On the other hand, sometimes death is the only way to achieve your
goal. What then?"
"Then I'd say it depends on whose death achieves the
goal."
The comment was callous, something a master should definitely
take his apprentice to task for, but Qui-Gon didn't particularly care to do so.
Still, appearances must be kept. "I think we both need time to meditate," he
said sharply. "You should think about your feelings on that subject, and how
they fit into the Jedi code."
"Yes, Master." A stiff bow followed the
reluctant response. "Shall we meditate here?"
"Have you a better place
in mind?"
"The gardens. I don't believe you've seen much of them since
our arrival. They're very beautiful."
Qui-Gon nodded, fairly certain
Xanatos wouldn't try anything in the gardens in broad daylight, despite the new
confidence he now noticed. "Very well, the gardens it is."
The gardens were indeed beautiful, a mass of riotous colors that probably
made orderly designs when viewed from the air. Viewed from the ground, however,
the perfection of design was less obvious here than in the other parks of Thani.
The flowers made nothing more than a jumble of color, as if someone had thrown
various paints on the greenery. The smell they created was overpowering.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, pushing aside the cloying
smell and opening himself up to the Force. It was strong here amidst so much
life; perhaps if he had come here sooner to meditate he would have felt the
warnings from the Force about his apprentice's plans.
No, it would do
him no good to agonize over everything he had missed, and how he had almost
failed his student and the Jedi order. He hadn't missed it entirely, and there
was still time to stop what had not yet occurred.
He reached out through
the Force for his padawan's presence, sensed the calm contentment the young man
was projecting as he meditated beside his master. Was he truly feeling that way
in his meditation, or had he progressed so far in his control of the Force that
he could project any feeling he desired? Either ability only served to underline
his strength in the Force. Xanatos was more than ready to be a knight, if Force
ability were the only requirement. There were areas in which he actually
surpassed his own master.
However, Xanatos lacked that which mattered
most in many situations--experience. Mastery of the Force mattered very little
if you did not know when and how to use it to your best advantage. Qui-Gon knew
his student's weaknesses, had seen many of them reinforced when they'd sparred
earlier. Unless, of course, Xanatos had been holding back, giving a deliberately
inferior performance to lull his master into a false sense of security.
All right, so Qui-Gon would have to go into whatever happened expecting
Xanatos to be weaker, but not counting on it. He could make that adjustment in
his plans. He could do just about anything if it meant stopping Crion's plans
and saving his padawan.
Enough thinking. He deepened his breathing more
and let go of conscious thought, drifting along in the Force, recharging himself
for whatever lay ahead. He would need all his strength.
He only hoped
all his strength would be enough.
By the time they finished their meditations, Qui-Gon and Xanatos had to rush
to the evening meal. Crion was already seated when they arrived in the dining
hall, barely glancing up from his first course as they sat down on either side
of him. As Qui-Gon dipped a spoon into the soup, he felt eyes on him, raised his
head to see the anger in Crion's accusing gaze. He met the other man's eyes
calmly, refusing to feel the slightest bit of guilt. Let the old man think what
he pleased; any influence Qui-Gon had ever had on Xanatos could only be better
than what Crion's manipulation had done to him in the short time they'd been on
Telos.
He forced himself to keep the anger out of his own eyes and
waited until Crion realized he would get no reaction. The older man finally
turned his attention back to his meal, leaving Qui-Gon to eat in peace. Or as
close to peace as he could get after all he'd learned during the course of the
day. Crion spent the rest of the meal talking to his son, ignoring Qui-Gon as if
he wasn't even there.
At the end of the meal, Crion stood up. "Feel up
to a walk, son?"
"Sorry, father, I have other plans." Xanatos gave his
master a slight smile, one that hinted at further amusement behind it. Crion
spared one last glare for Qui-Gon before he shrugged and grumbled something to
his son about seeing him in the morning.
After Crion left, Qui-Gon
turned to his apprentice. "Well? What are these plans you've been teasing me
with all day?"
"If I told you now it would ruin the surprise." The smile
on his face broke into a wide grin as he stood and moved around the table to
hold out his hand to his master. "Come. Let me show you instead."
The
rich, seductive tone of Xanatos' voice sent an involuntary shiver through
Qui-Gon's body. If only he could just ignore everything else but the promise in
his padawan's slow, sensuous movements, the guarantee of pleasure he could read
in the young man's eyes. If only they could go back in time and refuse this
mission.
If only he didn't have to choose between duty and his padawan.
All the wishing in the world wouldn't change reality. Focus on the
present; that was all he could control. That thought in mind, he took his
padawan's hand and followed him out of the house.
Xanatos led him back
through the gardens to a path that took them to a thick patch of drooping trees.
He'd never seen this area of the grounds before.
"This spot has always
been reserved for the governor, his family, and special guests. My father showed
it to me not long after we arrived." He parted the leaves and branches and
walked through, holding the branches aside until Qui-Gon joined him on the other
side. "It was just after dusk, and all I could think was that I had to bring you
here. But at night, when it would be perfect."
The trees surrounding the
area appeared wilted at first glance, but as Qui-Gon reached out through the
Force he felt the strong sense of life thrumming from them, as well as from the
grass surrounding the centerpiece of the whole site--a small lake, just barely
too large to call a pond. He closed his eyes, drinking in the sensation of the
living Force, and with it the smells of life everywhere. The trees--some of
which held a blooming flower that smelled sweet, almost like honey--the sharp
scent of the grass, and the faint smell of the water all combined to shut out
the over-processed world outside and create an illusion that they were isolated
from anyone or anything.
As he opened his eyes again, he almost kept
himself from wishing that were the case. "This place is truly beautiful," he
said softly, unwilling to break the mood by speaking too loudly.
"You
haven't seen the best part," Xanatos whispered back. He reached over with two
fingers and tipped his master's head up by his chin until the older man could
see the sky.
Qui-Gon blinked at the beauty of the stars, brighter here
than anywhere he'd seen on Telos or Nardir. "They're amazing," he breathed.
"Aircraft are carefully diverted from this section of airspace, and
lighting in the city has been designed to keep the glow here to a minimum,"
Xanatos murmured as he circled behind his master. His hand slid down the older
man's check to rest on his neck. "The intent was to create a place rulers could
go to shut out the world and be alone with their thoughts." His mouth was close
to Qui-Gon's ear now, lips moving against the lobe, sending fine tremors down
the Jedi Master's spine. "Somewhere they could think on their decisions with no
distractions, and commune with nature when the pressures of people become too
much."
Hands tugged off Qui-Gon's robe. He twisted his neck, seeking his
padawan's eyes over his shoulder, but before he could say a word, fingers
touched his lips. "Shhh," Xanatos urged. "Don't speak. Don't think. Just feel."
His outer tunic disappeared, followed by the under tunic, fingers
touching his bare skin as the clothing slid off, creating tiny bumps all over,
and then he was bare to the waist. Xanatos' chest pressed against his master's
back as his hands slid slowly around Qui-Gon's sides, up his chest and back down
to rest at his waistband, fingering the tie there, but making no move to loosen
it.
Just as Qui-Gon was about to speak again, lips fastened on his neck.
He gasped in surprise, back arching automatically, pushing his hips back against
the younger man's erection, obvious even through both of their leggings. Where
lips had robbed the Jedi master of speech, teeth momentarily robbed him of
coherent thought. His hands reached up to thread through the dark hair of the
younger man, the fingers of his right hand latching onto the padawan braid,
looping it around his forefinger as he held his apprentice's head in place,
urging him to continue.
Xanatos' lips and teeth moved down Qui-Gon's
shoulder, meeting with little resistance as he loosened his hold enough to allow
the movement. The braid slipped through his fingers, but he was too lost in
sensation to bother to chase it. As long as those magical lips and teeth
continued their work, he would not protest anything.
After a moment,
Xanatos moved around in front of his master, kissing his way across his master's
shoulder, licking a line down to one nipple. He tugged at the tip with his
teeth, tongue flicking across it lightly before he released it and moved quickly
to the other one. Once the young man had teased there, he tasted his way down
the middle of Qui-Gon's chest, stopping to loosen the ties of his leggings and
drag them down to the tops of his boots.
The boots were removed
carefully, with a light caress across the bottom of each foot that sent twin
lightning bolts of pleasure straight to Qui-Gon's hardening shaft. He gripped
his padawan's head again, this time to keep from falling over from sheer
pleasure as Xanatos licked along the underside of his erection.
A
strangled sound escaped his throat as Xanatos stood, but before Qui-Gon could
protest further, his lips were captured in a searing kiss. He pulled at his
padawan's clothes, wanting the sensation of skin against skin, needing to touch
every inch of the younger man.
Boots and clothes discarded, Xanatos slid
his fingertips down his master's arms, and grasped his hands to pull the older
man toward the lake, his gaze locked on Qui-Gon's face. They continued into the
water until it reached chest level, then Xanatos stopped.
"Padawan--"
Again Qui-Gon's mouth was covered. "Shhh. No talking, remember?" He gave
his master no time to disobey, replacing his hand with his lips, devouring the
older man's mouth with his own.
Qui-Gon stopped fighting his instincts
and gave in. If this was all he was to have.... That thought was enough to drive
him to tighten his arms around Xanatos' body, pulling him as close as he could
get. Their erections rubbed together in the water, the slick wetness minimizing
the friction, keeping the movement from giving him the sensation he craved.
He reached down to wrap his hand around both shafts, but Xanatos stopped
him. "No."
Words denied him, Qui-Gon tried to turn his padawan around,
but Xanatos shook his head and held his ground. "Follow me." He backed up a few
more steps, pulling his master with him, then stopped suddenly. Qui-Gon felt
behind the younger man and realized there was a large rock behind him, one that
nearly reached the top of the water.
He lifted Xanatos up onto the edge
of the rock in one swift movement, their lips meeting again in a frenetic kiss
as Qui-Gon impatiently tried to prepare the younger man for his entry. Xanatos
refused to wait, pushing his master's hands away and pulling his hips closer, a
silent plea.
With one last look into his padawan's eyes, Qui-Gon entered
him slowly. Xanatos leaned into his thrusts, speeding them, lips and tongue
meeting Qui-Gon's with a sense of urgency. The Jedi Master's hands gripped his
student's hips, as he fastened his teeth on the younger man's shoulder, marking
him with a reminder that would last for days.
Their pace increased until
they could move no faster. Xanatos kissed his master deeply, then stretched back
across the rock, his body arching as Qui-Gon drove all the way into him, burying
himself to the hilt. Dimly, he felt the bruising pressure of Xanatos fingers as
they dug into his forearms, anchoring him to meet each thrust with his own
strength. The water moved around them, the splashing the only sound save harsh
breaths and incoherent mumblings as the two Jedi drove toward completion.
One final thrust and Qui-Gon froze, spilling himself inside his padawan,
concentrating on the immense pleasure, drawing it out as long as he could.
Finally spent, he collapsed along the length of his padawan's upper body for a
moment, breaths coming in gasps as he calmed himself.
He realized after
a moment that Xanatos was still hard beneath him, writhing against Qui-Gon's
chest in an attempt to bring about his own release. Qui-Gon smiled and kissed
his way down his padawan's chest to his shaft, taking the younger man all the
way into his mouth, sucking hard as he worked his head up and down, bringing him
over the edge in moments.
Qui-Gon covered his padawan's body with his
own for a long moment, his head on Xanatos' chest, breathing in the scent of the
young man. The water lapped at them in waves, cooling their heated bodies as
reality slowly intruded. Qui-Gon wondered just what truth really beat in the
heart he could hear pounding beneath his ear. Part of him wished never to find
out. If only they could just live in this one moment in time, it could be
perfect.
Another second passed, and the moment was gone. Xanatos stirred
beneath him, pushing lightly to get his master to move so he could stand up. His
body slid against the older man's as he rose from the rock, pausing for a last
kiss before the young man sidestepped and moved toward the shore. He kept hold
of Qui-Gon's hand, pulling him along. "We should go inside," he said, handing
Qui-Gon his leggings before reaching for his own clothes.
"Yes. We have
a big day ahead of us tomorrow." A mastery of understatement if ever there was
one. It would be the biggest day of his life. He would either win the battle, or
lose the war. And if he lost the war, with it went everything he'd cared about
for the last ten years.
It was a long, silent walk back to the main
house.
Consciousness came slowly the next morning, beckoning like a beacon of light
through the dark haze of his dreams. As Qui-Gon became more aware of his
surroundings, he realized he was alone in the big bed. The spot beside him was
still warm, so his padawan hadn't been gone long.
Just as he was about
to get up and go search for the young man, the door opened, and Xanatos walked
in. "Good morning, Master."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows as he saw the
tray in his apprentice's hands. "You brought breakfast?"
"You don't have
to sound so surprised. It's not as if I cooked it myself. I just brought it up
from the kitchen."
"Isn't that what the servants are for?" Qui-Gon
asked, teasing as the young man placed the tray carefully on the bed and sat
down.
Xanatos grinned. "I admit I've been a bit casual about accepting
such an easy lifestyle, including my taking the servants for granted. However, I
have not forgotten how to take care of my master," he added, leaning in for a
kiss.
"You certainly have managed to take care of me." He suppressed a
shiver at the thought of just how far Xanatos might have gone 'taking care' of
him if he hadn't discovered Crion's plan.
"An easy and rewarding job, I
assure you." A longer kiss then, before Xanatos rose from the bed. "Father is
going on camera to talk to the people again in just a little while, and he's
invited us to watch if we like."
"I would like that." In reality, he
would have preferred to use the Force to make his apprentice sleep and drag him
off the planet. But he did not have that option.
"Excellent! I'm going
to take a shower while you eat. If you eat fast, you're welcome to join me."
Qui-Gon watched the young man as he disappeared into the bathroom,
banishing the images of their previous joint shower from his mind. He focused on
his food, not hungry, not tasting anything, but forcing himself to eat
nonetheless. Without a doubt, he would need his strength on this day more than
ever before.
He ate slowly, anxious to have a good reason for not
joining his padawan in the shower. As tempting as it was, he'd told himself at
the lake the night before that that part of their life ended there. It would
forever stay behind at that lake, cut off from the rest of the galaxy, where he
would not have to deal with the memories or the desires.
Unless, of
course, things went well, and he left the planet with Xanatos in tow.
Shaking his head, he rose to dress. He could not think of success or
failure, and what either would mean. The fight would end however it ended, and
he had little control over that. The Force would guide him, and things would
happen as the Force dictated.
Belief in a higher power certainly had its
advantages.
Once dressed, Qui-Gon placed most of his belongings in his
pack, leaving just enough lying around that Xanatos wouldn't notice. He could
easily throw those few things into the pack and make a quick escape if that
became necessary. He also made sure the recording from the previous day on his
comlink was at just the right point in Crion's speech. Then there was nothing
left to do but wait.
When his apprentice came out of the bathroom,
Qui-Gon was ready and sitting calmly on the bed. "You did not feel like joining
me?"
"Later," he said with a smile, kissing the younger man lightly on
the lips. "When we have time for a proper shower." He hoped, as Xanatos smiled
and turned for the door, that they would actually have that option.
Crion was waiting for them in his study, the lights already turned up for
the holo recorders, the desk tidy and presentable, no hint of chaos anywhere--a
perfectly respectable scene. The governor spared a quick glare for Qui-Gon
before smiling at his son in greeting. Xanatos nodded to his father as he joined
Qui-Gon in the seats near the desk, just out of reach of the recorders.
As they waited for the introduction to finish and the holo recorders to
start carrying across the country, Qui-Gon felt an urge to fidget unlike any
he'd had since his padawan days. He kept his hands still only with a supreme
effort, and his feet managed to tap impatiently no matter how much he tried to
control them. Xanatos glanced at him, raising his eyebrows at the
uncharacteristic impatience, but Qui-Gon gave him a blank look, and projected
just enough lust through the bond to give the younger man the idea that his
impatience had nothing to do with the matter at hand.
Finally, the holo
recorders began to whir. Crion smiled into the main lens, then began to read his
carefully prepared speech from the scrolling screen just to the left of the
recorder. "My fellow Telosians, despite my many efforts to negotiate a fair
contract with the people of Nardir, they have once again stalled the discussions
and made no move toward another talk. Given the games they have played with us
over the last few months, and their obvious desire to hang onto a contract where
they are the main beneficiaries as opposed to negotiating one that is fair, I
see no other course of action except to take what is ours by force. I come
before you today to announce that if contract negotiations do not begin by the
end of the day, Telos will be instituting military action against Nardir."
A slight pause to allow the gravity of the situation to sink into the
minds of the people, then Crion continued. "I realize many of you have friends
on Nardir, and I hope, should we be forced to take action, that no one will be
harmed. I wish this could be different; however, given the circumstances, the
time has come where we have no choice."
The time had indeed come.
Qui-Gon jumped up, pulling his lightsaber from his belt and using Force-enhanced
speed to make it to Crion's side before Xanatos could react. As he used the
Force to pin Crion to his chair, he held the 'saber at the ready, his thumb on
the switch, and spoke to the holo recorder. "People of Telos, I am Jedi Master
Qui-Gon Jinn. Your governor lies. He has been the true cause of the delays in
negotiations. The contract with Nardir is more than fair; in fact, it benefits
Telos far more than your neighboring country. The governor, however, seeks to
force the people of Nardir to submit to his own will and create more wealth for
himself in the process. But don't believe me--listen to him."
Qui-Gon
flicked the comlink on and held it up to the microphone. Crion's voice poured
out into the room. "The people already believe Nardir is to blame for the
delays. Tomorrow, I will tell them we have no other choice, and declare war
through an announcement on camera. Once I do that, the people will be straining
to go to war. Telos will have the science, the resources, and the factories, and
the people will be rich. The fools will love me for it, and they'll never
realize how much wealth I gain from it."
He turned off the comlink. "I
call upon you to vote to remove your governor from office and elect an official
who has the best interests of Telos at heart instead of his own." With that
statement, Qui-Gon ignited his 'saber and severed the cords to the recorders and
the sound system, cutting off Crion's only way of attempting to sway public
opinion in his favor.
Crion immediately began sputtering, careful not to
move too close to the Jedi Master, but beyond monitoring his movement somewhere
in his mind, Qui-Gon gave him little attention. His eyes met those of his
apprentice, who was looking at him with hurt and bewilderment. "Master, what has
gotten into you? I don't know how you could have come by such a horrible
recording, but I assure you--"
Qui-Gon resumed the playback on the
comlink. "We gain, Father. We."
"Of course. Assuming your master doesn't
mess this up."
"I told you to leave him to me. I can handle him. I've
handled him so far, haven't I?"
He switched the sound off again, eyes
never leaving his padawan's. Slowly, the innocent look faded, and the anger
burning in the midnight blue gaze was nearly enough to convince him then and
there that the young man was beyond saving. "You lied to me," Xanatos growled.
"Oh, and you were truthful to me?"
"An eye for an eye has never
been the Jedi way."
"Nor has deception. Or lies. Or violence. Or
personal gain. I could go on."
Xanatos' eyes narrowed to mere slits. "I
wouldn't if I were you." He pulled out his own lightsaber, powering up the blade
and aiming it in Qui-Gon's direction. "You have five minutes to get out of the
palace."
For a long moment, Qui-Gon stared at the young man. "Come with
me," he whispered hoarsely at last, eyes pleading with his padawan to make the
right choice.
The young man laughed harshly. "Come with you? Back to a
life of servitude, of bowing to the Council's will and going wherever they deem
necessary for the rest of my days with no real home or family?" He laughed
again, then took a step forward, all traces of amusement gone. "You have four
and a half minutes," he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up. "Better
run."
One last look, and Qui-Gon moved backwards out of the room,
protecting himself from the front, feeling out with the Force to ensure he did
not need protection from behind. He ran to his room, put the rest of his things
in his pack, and hurried out of the residence in two minutes, not trusting
Xanatos to give him a full five minutes before coming after him. He could no
longer believe anything the young man said.
Perhaps he never should have
believed anything Xanatos had said. If he hadn't been so blind, it was possible
none of this would have had to happen.
He pushed his own feelings aside,
living purely in each moment, duty sustaining him when emotion would have ripped
him apart. Time enough to deal with everything that had happened later, when he,
Telos and Nardir were safe. Until then, Xanatos was just another evil in the
galaxy. And Qui-Gon was alone, with no one to cover his back.
Or perhaps
he was not completely alone after all. He rounded a corner a block from the
governor's quarters and ran into a large group of citizens. The anger from the
group was rippling through the Force in waves, something he would have noticed
sooner if he had not been so wrapped up in his own thoughts. The people stopped
when they saw him. "Master Jedi," a young blonde man began, "we wish to thank
you for opening our eyes to what has been going on for the last few months."
"Somehow I doubt you all came down here just to thank me. Especially not
with weapons."
The man's mouth tightened. "No. We're going to take care
of the governor ourselves."
"You're going to take care of him?" Qui-Gon
counted the group. "There aren't even thirty of you, and you're not trained. The
guards outside the governor's residence would defeat you before you ever made it
to the inner regions of the building."
"Maybe. Maybe not. But we have
sat back and allowed him to do as he pleases for too long, and we will be
complacent no longer."
"And a lot of good it will do your families
during your funerals." Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, thinking quickly.
This was his fault in so many ways. He had not paid attention, and he had let
things get out of hand. While he wasn't the one to blame for the event, he was
partly responsible for the severity at this point. His eyes opened again, and he
knew what he had to do. "I will help you."
The man nodded. "You'll come
with us then?"
"You can't storm in there like this. That hasn't changed.
Even my help would not be enough. You need to gather more forces and plan."
"Every moment we waste he gets closer to gathering his army and becoming
unstoppable."
"I overheard his plans yesterday. The army is not due in
until tomorrow. Even a few hours will make all the difference to you if you plan
well."
After a long look at the other members of the group, the leader
nodded. "We will wait and plan. But only for a few hours."
"Agreed. Do
you have a place we can use as a headquarters?" The man nodded. "Then let's go."
With Qui-Gon's help, it took only a few hours for the group of citizens to
come up with a plan to get into the residence and get to the governor. Qui-Gon
was fairly certain that Crion would be in his study when they attacked; however
small groups were being dispatched to a few other key locations, just in case he
was elsewhere.
In the time it had taken to plan, their ranks had grown
to over sixty Telosians.
The blonde man who had first spoken to Qui-Gon
had become the leader by default, as he'd explained while they walked to the
makeshift headquarters. Denis had been a member of the volunteer peacekeeping
force as part of the mandatory country service all Telosian citizens were
required to perform. He and four other men joined Qui-Gon at the rough map he'd
drawn of the governor's quarters.
"These are a few of my buddies from my
peacekeeper days."
Qui-Gon glanced up at the group. "You were all
peacekeepers?" At their nods, he turned to Denis, "Good. Send one with each
detachment breaking off to find the governor." Denis agreed and began explaining
the mission as they walked off, leaving Qui-Gon alone.
He took one last
look at the map of the building he knew by memory. They were ready. Or as read
as they could be. So why did he still feel so concerned?
Perhaps because
he was sending over sixty mostly untrained citizens into a battle. Or at least
aiding them in the fight. The fact that they would have gone anyway--and with
fewer numbers and less preparation--was irrelevant. He had helped with the plan.
Not to mention that his padawan was now one of Crion's greatest strengths.
"Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon turned to see Denis heading toward him.
"Yes?"
"It's time."
The entire group was looking at him as if
waiting for something. He realized they were expecting him to say a few words
before the battle. He'd heard leaders rally their troops on several worlds when
he'd been sent in peace and war had broken out despite his best efforts, but
he'd never had to do such a thing. Jedi were trained warriors, true, but taught
to use that training in defense, not to lead attacks. But now...he had no
choice, at least none that his conscience would allow. He was their best chance.
"One of the tenants the Jedi live by is peace over anger. I ask only
that you keep that ideal in mind as we go into this. We are working for
peace--do not allow your anger to rule you, or you become what you fight." He
paused to let his words sink in. "May the Force be with us."
The rebels made it through the first line of defense on the outer perimeter
of the residence without difficulty. Two of the search teams broke off to sneak
in during the commotion the main group would make fighting their way into the
front entrance. It was a good, sound plan based on what they knew of the
governor's quarters and Crion's plans. It would have been nearly perfect.
If only Crion's hired army hadn't arrived ahead of schedule.
Qui-Gon had managed to subdue two guards when he looked up and realized
there were suddenly far more defenders than there should have been. And they
were wearing the wrong uniforms. One visual sweep was enough to tell him the
odds were not in the favor of the rebels.
He found Denis fighting a
member of the regular guard and grabbed him, knocking the guard out before
pulling Denis away. "We have to pull back!"
"Why?"
"The hired
army has arrived; we're outnumbered. We cannot win."
"Yes, we can!"
He tried to pull away, but Qui-Gon held his arm tightly. "No, we can't.
Look!" The Jedi Master pointed at more reinforcements entering the front lawn.
"We have to leave!"
After a moment, Denis relented. "Fine. I'll go after
the groups that broke off. You get everyone else to safety." Before Qui-Gon
could protest, Denis was running around the corner. To try to stop him would
only call attention to his movements.
With a sigh, Qui-Gon began
gathering the other rebels and ordering them back to the headquarters. As he
found the last member in sight, Denis rejoined him. One quick look at the blonde
man's face told Qui-Gon all he needed to know. "Come on," he said, clasping
Denis' shoulder. "We have to go."
As they ran away, Qui-Gon looked back
over his shoulder. A flash in one of the windows caught his eye. With a shock,
he realized it was Xanatos, watching. And smiling.
He turned and ran
without looking back again.
//It was bliss. No, it was better than bliss. There were no words to
describe the intense pleasure he felt as his padawan rose up and down above him,
surrounding his hardened shaft in tight heat. Xanatos laughed, and Qui-Gon
looked up to meet his padawan's eyes, surprised to see nothing there but
coldness.
"Padawan?"
"You're a fool," he said, still laughing,
his words completely at odds with his actions as he continued to ride his
master. "You didn't listen. They tried to warn you, but you never see the future
for your concentration on the present. And now they will all pay for your
nearsightedness. He will pay. Now and in the future, and it will all be
your fault. Take that to your death."
Before he could even raise
a question, Xanatos' hands wrapped around his neck, cutting off his air. He
struggled, but his padawan was too strong. He could feel his consciousness
fading--//
"Master Jinn!"
Qui-Gon awoke with a jerk. He jumped
up from his chair, nearly knocking over the table as he yanked his shoulder away
from Denis' touch. "Sorry...I must have been dreaming."
"Must have been
a bad one. I wasn't completely sure you weren't dying for a moment."
"That makes two of us."
"Excuse me?"
He shook his head
as he sat down again. "Never mind. Has anyone else come back?"
"Three
more. I think that's the last of them."
"Forty-four people. We lost
twenty-one." The loss staggered him. So many...all his fault. With an effort, he
banished the idea of blame. There was no use in blaming anyone. Blame only
served to hinder rational thought and action. He had to live in the moment.
Focus on the here and now.
//'...you never see the future for your
concentration on the present.'//
"How are you?" Qui-Gon asked, needing
to concentrate on something other than his own subconscious. Denis had been
subdued since they had returned to the headquarters. Not that such a reaction
was a surprise. It was one thing to storm off to attack in the heat of rage;
seeing the result of a battle was something else entirely.
"I'm hanging
in there." Denis took the seat next to him. "It's strange...I wanted to take
back my country. But now...is it worth the cost? So what if the governor gets
rich? Telos gets rich right along with him. Is that such a bad thing?"
For a moment, Qui-Gon studied him. "Is that really how you feel?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." He ran his hand through his hair, eyes lowered
to the table. "When I found the first group, I couldn't make myself believe it.
They were lying there, and there was blood, and it was...it was horrible. I
thought nothing could be worse."
"I know. It's never easy."
"I
knew those people! They were my friends!" He took a deep breath. "And I
sent them in there to die."
Qui-Gon put his hand over the other man's on
the table. "They went in there of their own choosing. You did not choose for
them."
"Then why does it feel like I did?" He didn't wait for an answer
before he continued. "I thought that was the worst thing I'd ever see. And then
I found the others. And they weren't all dead. Yet."
Denis met Qui-Gon's
eyes, and the Jedi Master felt the hollow emptiness of that gaze down to his
soul. "This guy came at them with a sword like yours. He sliced the two who were
left down like they were nothing.
A sick feeling settled in Qui-Gon's
stomach, one he doubted he'd ever be free of again. "What did he look like?"
"Black hair, pale. Like something out of a nightmare, or a vengeance
play. He was pure evil, I can tell you that." Denis truly looked at Qui-Gon
then. "Now you look like you've seen a ghost."
"Close enough. I know the
man you saw. His name is Xanatos."
"Gone up against him before?"
"No. He was my student until yesterday." He didn't dare mention anything
else about their relationship.
A frown settled on Denis' face. "You
taught him...?"
"Not to be that way, if that's what you're thinking.
He's also the son of the governor."
"I didn't even know the governor had
a son."
"I took him away when he was just a baby."
Denis shook
his head. "No offense, but I don't think whatever you've been teaching him all
these years did a lot of good."
"I am aware of that." Qui-Gon softened
his tone as he picked at an imaginary flaw on the table. "He wasn't always like
this. Or maybe he was and I just didn't see it. I'm not sure anymore."
"Either way, he's going to be tough to beat now. Do you think you can do
it?" It was clear Denis was doubting more than just ability.
"I will do
what I must." He could do whatever needed to be done, if it came to that. But he
hadn't given up all hope just yet. No matter what Denis had seen. "We should
finish packing up," Qui-Gon said at last, getting up from the table. "We'll need
to be out of here and heading for new headquarters in the next hour now that
everyone's arrived."
The two of them headed towards the others,
discussing the move, the revelation of Xanatos' origins buried, but not
forgotten.
A month. Days and then weeks of fighting, of going up against Crion's hired
army and being beaten every time. And now they'd reached the milestone no one
had thought possible. A full month of fighting, and they were no closer to
winning than they had been the first day.
Qui-Gon's eyes passed over the
beds where wounded rebels lay, some healing, some dying. He knew there were
several more rooms just like this one spread out in various planning facilities
they'd set up in the outlying areas just beyond Thani, and it pained him; pained
him more still to think of the graves they'd dug, the pyres they'd built, and
the bodies they hadn't been able to get to in order to do either.
Thousands had died. And he'd sent them all to their deaths. Not because
he was the leader--after that first battle he'd refused to lead, leaving Denis
to take over those duties. But he'd stayed, despite Yoda and the Council
attempting by every means short of a direct order to get him back to Coruscant.
He'd stayed because it was his fault. He couldn't lead them, but he could help.
And his help had been so much good to them so far. He'd given such great
assistance that there were fewer rebels now than ever, and less chance of them
winning--if they'd really had a chance to begin with. But still he stayed. They
all assumed it was because he wanted to help, and he truly did, but the look he
often saw in Denis' eyes wouldn't let him forget the more compelling reason he'd
stayed.
Xanatos.
Whether he was still trying to save the young
man, or just wanted to see his mistakes through to the bitter end, even he
didn't know. He only knew that he had brought this on, or at least had been
partly responsible, through his blindness, and through his training of his
apprentice, so he had to stay and do what he could to correct his mistakes.
Xanatos' shielding abilities were better than he'd realized--or better than his
apprentice had led him to believe--but he could still sense him sometimes, a
fact that could lead to a tactical advantage for the rebels.
"Qui-Gon?"
Denis laid a hand on his shoulder. "We're going out in full force at dusk."
He looked at the man who'd been so eager to fight a month before.
Now...he just looked tired. And old. "The chances are not good, you know."
"Maybe," he said, his face tightening. "But if we don't win, then we'll
die trying."
"Is that what they'd say if you asked them?" Qui-Gon
challenged, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the wounded.
"No one
is here by force. Anyone can leave whenever they like."
He started to
argue then realized there was no point. "I'll be ready by dusk."
Denis
nodded and took a step back as it to leave, but then stopped. "You understand
why we have to do this, don't you?"
Qui-Gon nodded without looking up
from the table. "But that doesn't make it any easier to watch people die in a
futile effort I've seen far too many times on far too many worlds."
"It
may not be so futile. You can't actually see the future, can you?"
"No."
"Then you never know. One man can make the difference against an entire
empire if he just has the right weapon."
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth
lifted slightly. "I've seen that too," he admitted. A soft chuckle was Denis'
only answer before his footsteps faded away.
The rebels met at dusk, leaving their various hideouts to join forces just
on the outskirts of Thani, as close to the governor's quarters as they could
gather without being discovered. Qui-Gon looked out at the assembled group, a
smaller group than any they'd had since the first week. Many had died; others
had fled back to their homes, the reality of war too different from the idea
they'd joined up with for them to handle.
In truth, he was surprised at
how many had stayed. These people were mostly scientists and management types,
not trained soldiers, or even laborers. Their dedication to their country was
admirable. That dedication, however, was killing them off at a rapid pace. He
doubted that had been in Crion's plans, but he also knew the man wouldn't mind
much. Less people to oppose him, and less people to share the wealth with after
it was all over, for there was little doubt that Crion would win.
Unless
someone got to him first.
Denis finished giving out orders and rejoined
Qui-Gon at the front of the group. "Are you ready?"
"As ready as the
Force has made me," Qui-Gon gave his standard reply, then added, "Let's finish
this."
He received a quizzical look from Denis, but the leader said
nothing, just gave the silent command to move forward.
They were spotted
as they neared the residence, as usual, and met soon after by the hired army. It
was always the same; only the direction of their arrival and the number of
people fighting changed.
It was soon obvious the outcome would be the
same this time as well. Qui-Gon fought the anger that rose up inside him at the
futile efforts.
And then he saw Xanatos. His apprentice was standing
with one of the generals of the hired army, giving orders. The young man stopped
suddenly, head turning in Qui-Gon's direction as if he knew he was being
watched.
Qui-Gon had shut down his side of the bond as much as possible,
but he did not try to hide from his apprentice's view. After a moment Xanatos
smiled, then turned to the general and said a few more words before turning
away. He walked off toward the residence without another look back.
Once
the young man was gone, Qui-Gon looked again at what he could see of the battle.
There was no other way to handle this.
With a deep breath, he began to
work his way around to the side of the battle, intent on making his way into the
governor's quarters without being detected. This would end today. He would see
to it.
With the battle raging on behind him, Qui-Gon hurried carefully around the
edge of the outer perimeter of the governor's quarters. He knew exactly how
close he could get before he was spotted, and he skirted the edge of that
perimeter around to the back of the grounds. As he'd suspected, there were few
guards in the back, only four posted lookouts. He evaded those easily as he made
his way to the building.
During his first days at the residence, Qui-Gon
had gone for a walk and come across a door that was mostly grown over with
weeds. He'd later found the room the door led to from the inside to find that it
opened, with a little pressure. At the time he'd assumed it was an old,
forgotten entrance to the cellar, and hadn't bothered to ask about it. Now he
hoped he was right.
With a careful adjustment of the lock mechanism, he
was able to push the door open. He sensed no one on the other side, but he was
cautious nonetheless, never sure just how well Xanatos could shield himself. The
cellar was as dark and dusty as he remembered, the only light from a dirty
window near the ceiling on the far side of the room. He waited a moment, but he
could neither see nor sense anyone in the room, so he continued on to the
stairway.
The door at the top of the stairs presented a new problem.
Qui-Gon knew it would squeak when he tried to open it, and while it was in a
remote part of the residence, there was no way to be certain someone nearby
wouldn't hear it. He reached out with the Force, but the area seemed empty.
Trusting the Force to alert him to any danger, he pushed on the door,
holding his breath for a moment when the expected squeak sounded. When it
passed, and no footsteps came running down the hallway, he breathed a sigh of
relief and continued on.
With the battle going on outside, Crion would
most likely be making plans in his study. Since he trusted so few people, there
was only one other person likely to be in the room.
No matter. If
Xanatos was there, Qui-Gon would deal with it. Crion had to be stopped, no
matter what it took. Preferably without bloodshed--no matter how he felt about
that--but one way or another, this had to end.
After close calls with
two guards, Qui-Gon made it to the study. The door was closed, but not latched,
so he pushed it open silently. There was no one at the desk, or at the large map
that had been hung on the far wall, presumably to plot strategy since the war
had broken out.
"I expected you here much sooner."
Qui-Gon
stiffened as the silky voice reached him from his left. He took a few steps
forward to clear the door and turned his head. Xanatos was lounging on the low
couch along the wall behind the door. The sight of the padawan braid, still
hanging from behind the young man's right ear, surprised him, but after a
moment, he recovered. "And I expected your father to be in here with you."
Xanatos laughed. "Of course you did. That's why you snuck in the cellar
and up the stairs and all the way into the middle of the residence to his study,
just to kill him."
"No! To arrest him." Killing Crion was not something
he would allow himself to anticipate, even if he had single-handedly taken
Xanatos away.
"You knew I wouldn't let that happen."
Qui-Gon
took a step toward the couch. "I didn't know that. I was hoping to reason with
you. If you would just listen--"
"Reason? Listen?" The harsh laugh rang
out again as Xanatos rose gracefully and advanced on his master. "And why should
I? You left me here; didn't you want me to stay and be my father's son?"
"What?"
"It seems fairly obvious," he growled, hands on hips. "I
wasn't good enough to be your apprentice after all, so you saw your way out of
having to tell me that, and you left me here."
Qui-Gon stared at the
young man. "Left you here? I asked you to come with me. You threatened me
and told me to get out."
"And you left! You were my master!" He took a
step forward, his face inches away from Qui-Gon, eyes glittering like dark
sapphite jewels. "It was your job to stay with me!"
"Not like this!"
Qui-Gon grabbed his apprentice's arm. "Not to help you destroy two worlds!" He
paused for a ragged breath, scrubbing his free hand across the top of his head.
After a moment, he continued in a quieter, if no less intense, voice. "Come with
me this time."
Xanatos stared for a moment, features set, just long
enough to make Qui-Gon wonder if he was truly considering the request. Then,
slowly, he shook his head. "I can't. I have to stay and see this through."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again
to look down at the man who'd been his student, his friend, and his lover. "Then
you've made your choice, and there is nothing I can do."
He turned to
go, but Xanatos' next words froze him. "Stay with me."
Stay? He
couldn't. He knew that he couldn't. He had duties, and even if that weren't the
case, the path his padawan had chosen was wrong. Xanatos would only get worse.
Unless Qui-Gon stayed and kept him under control.
His eyes
closed again. The idea was so tempting. Memories assailed him, threatened to
overwhelm him, but reality won out in the end. He hadn't been able to control
the young man before this; now it would be impossible. Xanatos had set his own
path to destruction, and there was nothing Qui-Gon could do to stop him now.
That time was long past.
"No," he said, eyes open and clear for the
first time in what seemed like forever. He turned to face his apprentice--no,
former apprentice--again. "You have chosen this for yourself, and I will not
stay here and be destroyed along with you."
"Destroy me?" Xanatos
laughed. "You think this pitiful group of rebels can destroy me? They are
nothing!" His smile turned into a sneer as he leaned closer, his nose almost
touching Qui-Gon's. "You...you might have had that power once. But not now. "
Before Qui-Gon could react, Xanatos grabbed the older man's head and
pulled him into a brutal kiss, crushing his lips against his teeth. He fought
until the young man lessened the pressure slightly, pulling Qui-Gon's lower-lip
between his teeth and biting before letting him go with one last, soft kiss.
Xanatos grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked
at the scarlet streak left behind, then at the cut on his former master's lip.
Eyes locked with the older man's, he licked the blood off slowly, deliberately.
"Go on then, back to the Jedi," he said finally, voice low and heated. "Back to
no money, no power, no home--no thanks! But be sure to think of what you could
have had here."
"There is nothing here that tempts me," Qui-Gon said
levelly before turning toward the door.
"Oh really?" Xanatos responded,
chuckling. "I suppose that was my imagination, then, your reaction to me
projecting my activities night after night, back on Coruscant? And my dreams?"
Qui-Gon stopped, only steps away from the door. He needed to leave.
But he had to find out the rest first.
"I see I have your
attention now," Xanatos gloated. "You never considered that maybe you found it
so easy to read my desires because I was sending them your direction?" He
laughed. "You're more of a blind fool than I thought."
"It changes
nothing." He took another step toward the door.
"Perhaps not. But what
about your inability to save Stieg Wa?"
Again he stopped. "What does
that have to do with this?"
"Ever seen a pocket Force inhibitor? Handy
little toy. Picked it up off a man who tried to use it against me in a seedier
part of Coruscant--one of those areas you wouldn't be caught dead in. Or
is that anything other than dead in?"
"Force inhibitors are illegal."
"So is murder, but then the poor man didn't seem to see them on the same
level in the moment before I ran him through with my 'saber."
The walls
Qui-Gon had built around his emotions shook, threatened to crumble, but he held
firm. Later, when there was nothing else on the line, he could examine how he'd
been so blind about someone he'd thought he knew so well. Now he had to leave.
One step at a time. He put his left foot in front of his right.
"Pity
about Stieg Wa. I hear the Jedi found him in a brothel on Tranine."
Right foot in front of the left.
"Though I suppose that's not as
important to you as your failure as a master, being led around by the cock by a
mere padawan."
Left foot in front of the right, and he was at the door.
Xanatos' laughter followed him through the doorway and down the hall.
Long after he could no longer hear it, the laughter echoed in his mind.
Qui-Gon made his way to the front door, intent on nothing more than leaving.
The guards wouldn't think him dangerous if he was leaving the residence, and if
they did, he'd take care of them one by one. In preparation for that
possibility, he ignited his lightsaber as he reached the final stretch of the
hallway.
Two steps into the large entrance hall, he skidded to a halt.
Crion stood in the middle of the room, blaster in hand, blocking the exit.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"We both know you won't win this
fight. Give up now and save us both the trouble."
Crion laughed. "Give
up? Why would I want to do that?"
"You had your chance." Qui-Gon raised
his left hand, holding his saber out defensively. With his right hand, he
reached for the Force to pull the weapon out of the governor's hand, but nothing
happened. He frowned and tried again, but still nothing.
"Oh, did I
forget to tell you that my son loaned me his Force inhibitor? He thought I might
need it."
Only then did he notice the strangeness, the absence of the
Force like a thick silence around him. "It seems Xanatos has thought of
everything."
Crion's eyebrows rose. "What, now you call him by the name
I gave him? No 'My padawan, my apprentice' titles? No, I suppose you wouldn't
want him to belong to you now, would you?"
"You put those ideas into his
head, didn't you?"
"I didn't have to put anything into his head,
Master Jinn. I just didn't lie and tell him he was imagining any of
it--your possessiveness, the ridiculous traditions, the clothing--none of it has
anything to do with his abilities. It's all to control him."
"It's to
help him control himself. We are given this power so we may serve. Everything
else is secondary to that."
The older man laughed. "Well now he's
serving himself, and not you. Get over it."
"Fine. He can serve whomever
he likes. He is no longer my concern." A lie, but he'd learned that lies had
their uses inn the right situations. He tightened his grip on his 'saber, ready
to attack if necessary. "Just let me pass." Not that he had any intention of
leaving without dispatching of Crion, one way or another, but the other man
didn't know that.
"Just like that? You'll just leave and let us alone?"
Crion laughed loudly. "Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that."
"Believe what you like, but I'm leaving."
Qui-Gon took three
steps forward before the governor fired, sending a blaster bolt right into the
lightsaber. It bounced harmlessly off the 'saber and burned a black mark into
the wall just over Crion's left shoulder. "You won't be able to stop them all,
not without your precious Force."
"Try me." Qui-Gon's mouth tightened.
"I'm not your son."
"That is one thing I am well aware of." He fired
again, three quick blasts that Qui-Gon was able to fend off as he ran forward,
slicing the blaster in half and putting an end to its usefulness. He held his
'saber inches from Crion's neck. "Turn off the dampener and give it to me."
The governor swallowed carefully. "Very well." He dropped what was left
of his blaster and reached slowly into his pocket. Qui-Gon tuned his ears into
the sounds around him, listening for any sign of Xanatos, since the Force would
be of no help until the dampener was disengaged. A sound like a footstep caught
his attention a second before Crion's hand came out of his pocket.
It
barely registered in his mind that the governor held not a dampener, but a
vibroshiv, before Qui-Gon sliced downward with his lightsaber as he jumped back,
narrowly avoiding the humming blade of the vibroshiv as it thrust upward toward
his chest. His 'saber sliced through the bottom of Crion's neck and down his
chest before cutting the vibroshiv, along with the governor's hand and his ring,
into two pieces.
The vibroshiv and the ring clattered to the ground as
Crion fell dead at his feet. His wounds had cauterized instantly, a clean kill,
but the smell of burning flesh from the slice of the 'saber was overpowering and
growing stronger as the vibroshiv blade set the rug on fire, and it burned into
the flesh of Crion's hand. Qui-Gon fought back the nausea even as he heard an
inhuman screech behind him.
"What have you done?" Xanatos screamed,
igniting his own lightsaber and rushing forward, charging at his former master.
Qui-Gon turned, meeting the downward swing of the younger man's 'saber
with his own weapon, blocking with a standard move. "I defended myself," he
answered quietly, guiding the fight away from Crion's body while still allowing
Xanatos to be the attacker.
"Defense? A Jedi Master against one old man
holding a blaster, and you call killing him defending yourself?" Xanatos backed
him against the wall and their 'sabers locked, humming as his former padawan
glared at him through the crossed blades of green and red light. "I'll see you
dead for what you've done." Anger threaded through his voice and turned his dark
blue eyes black.
"You won't find that as easy as you might think."
"Really?" Xanatos looked around wildly. "Feel that? Or rather, do you
not feel it? The Force inhibitor is still on. We are on even ground now,
Master." He made the word into an insult.
Faster than thought,
Qui-Gon shoved the younger man, sending him backwards onto the floor with such a
force he slid several feet. The slide brought him into view of his father. After
a shaky breath, Xanatos crawled over to where the man had fallen.
He
picked up the larger portion of Crion's ring out of the fire, held it in front
of him despite the faint hiss of the glowing metal in his fingers. He stared at
it for a moment before turning to Qui-Gon. Without a word, Xanatos held the ring
up to his face and pressed it into his cheek, eyes full of cold fury as the
metal sizzled against his skin. "This is my mark, an outward symbol to remind
me. Every time I look into a mirror, I will remember how you betrayed me."
"I betrayed you?"
"You took my father from me! Twice! I
was denied the right to know him as a child, and when I tried to know him as an
adult, you took that from me as well. All so you could put a leash on me." He
grabbed the vibroshiv, heedless of the fire, and quickly severed his padawan
braid, throwing it on the floor. It skidded to a stop near Qui-Gon's feet as
Xanatos rose, advancing on Qui-Gon, 'saber first. "Pity my mother is dead; you
could've killed her too!"
Qui-Gon was familiar with his former
apprentice's fighting style, but rage made him less predictable. The master had
to rely on split-second decisions based on body language to stay one-step ahead
of his former apprentice. On and on they fought, locked in a deadly dance, the
scene a bizarre imitation of past sparring sessions. Only this time, there were
no holds barred.
Finally, when they'd both gone past the point of
exhaustion, Qui-Gon gained a slight advantage. Before Xanatos knew what was
happening, his lightsaber was on the ground, and he followed. The green blade of
Qui-Gon's saber gave the younger man's face an eerie glow as it hovered just off
his chin. "Go ahead," Xanatos taunted. "Do it. You know you want to. We're such
a bad family; don't you want to finish off the line? What if I was to
procreate?"
It would be so easy. One small thrust with the 'saber, or
maybe a quick slice. Xanatos had turned. He must be stopped, or he would only
cause pain to everyone he met. The path was clear--there was only one way left
to deal with it.
Moments passed, but Qui-Gon couldn't force himself to
deal the final blow. Xanatos began to laugh, a wild sound Qui-Gon had never
heard before. "You can't do it, can you?" He laughed harder. "Big Jedi Master,
and you can't kill me. Why? Because you fancy yourself in love with me? Or just
because it would be too much failure for your poor ego to take?"
Qui-Gon
pressed the blade of the 'saber a little closer, near enough to the skin now to
be uncomfortable, but Xanatos didn't flinch. And still, he hesitated. All he had
to do was kill the young man and be done with it.
No use. He couldn't do
it. With a sigh, Qui-Gon pulled the blade back. "Get up."
"What, I'm not
to be killed?"
"Not by me. You'll go back to the temple and stand
trial."
The young man pushed himself up off the ground, dusting off his
leggings. "For what? Failing to live up to the great Master Jinn's standards? Or
not being good enough in his bed?"
"For murder," Qui-Gon replied,
ignoring the barb. "Along with a few other crimes."
"We have courts on
Telos."
Courts that he could bribe, Qui-Gon was sure. "You are...were a
Jedi. You'll stand trial as one."
"Well...when you put it that way...."
Before Qui-Gon could stop him, Xanatos lashed out with his fist,
catching the older man on the jaw. He fell backward, jumping up quickly, but not
fast enough to stop his former student. He ran to the door, but saw no sign of
the young man, so he checked the hallways. Still nothing. He searched half the
residence before he realized the truth and gave up.
Xanatos was gone.
"And you searched the entire residence?"
Qui-Gon met Mace Windu's
eyes without flinching. "I searched the entire city with help from some of the
rebels. There was no sign of my--of Xanatos. And the treasury was missing as
well. He must have had an escape route planned, just in case."
The
seemingly permanent frown on Windu's face deepened, but he said nothing else, so
Qui-Gon continued. "I told the general of the hired army that his employer was
dead, so they left."
"Chosen a new governor, they have?"
"Yes,
my master. The rebels nominated their leader, Denis, and he was elected within
days. As soon as their governor was in place, I returned to the Temple." Where
he had immediately been called into the Council chambers, despite the fact that
he'd barely slept since the last battle, but he refrained from mentioning that
part.
"Very well," Windu said at last. "It is clear that there was
nothing you could have done to foresee these events, and you did everything you
could to make restitution once your padawan turned."
Master Yoda clicked
his walking stick against the floor, more as a hint to Windu than for any
practical reason, Qui-Gon suspected, since Yoda was in his chair. "Sorry, we
are, about your Padawan, Qui-Gon. Difficult, this is for you."
"Thank
you, Master," Qui-Gon replied with a small bow. "I am dealing with the
situation."
"Nevertheless, a rest you need."
"I wish to resume
my duties, Master. I'm sure the Jedi are in need of an experienced warrior
somewhere." After all, they always were.
Yoda's eyes narrowed, small
moss-green slits in his wide face. "Time, you require. Not all wounds heal as
quickly as physical ones."
Qui-Gon knew it was useless to argue, so he
bowed again. "If that is all...?"
"You are free to go," Mace Windu
answered. He bowed yet again and left the chamber, finally making his way to his
rooms for the first time since they'd left for the mission.
It was only
once he was in the room that it hit him. Xanatos was truly gone, lost to him
forever, as a padawan, as well as everything else. He glanced over at the closed
door to the young man's room, thinking that the room would need to be emptied.
Perhaps he would have droids do it for him. He had no desire to go through his
former padawan's belongings, now or ever.
The doorbell chimed, and
Qui-Gon called out the entry command as he sat down, too well-trained in
politeness to not answer the door. His master shuffled into the room, the door
closing behind him. "How feel you?" Yoda asked as he reached Qui-Gon's chair.
"I am fine."
"Lie to your master, you should not."
Qui-Gon snorted. "Apparently that's not a lesson easily learned by our
line."
"Xanatos' lies, not your fault. Forgive yourself, you must."
"And if I can't?" The words came out before he could stop them.
"Think you you cannot?"
He shook his head. "I don't know." The
next words were harder, but he had to finish. "When I found him in the
residence, before the fight...he asked me to stay. And I thought about it. Part
of me wanted to stay."
"Wanted and did - same thing, they are not. Right
thing, you did, regardless of the cost." He laid his hand on Qui-Gon's knee.
"Jedi, you are, my padawan. Jedi, always, you will be."
"But not a very
good one. Not lately. He was my student. He could not have controlled me if I
hadn't wanted it, at least on some level."
Yoda sighed. "Perhaps.
Powerful and seductive is the Dark. Know better next time, you will.
"There won't be a next time."
"So sure, are you? We shall see.
Much to teach, have you."
Qui-Gon nodded, but only out of habit. He was
not convinced he had anything at all to teach that should truly be learned. As
Yoda turned to leave, there was only one thing Qui-Gon was truly convinced of.
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