AN: This is a fic that will cover roughly thirty-five years of Qui-Gon Jinn (later Lord Pacifus)'s life, including some eventual QuiObi. I apologize for my poor characterization re: Dooku and Palps/Sidious, certain canon-y things had to be changed in order for my dear sweet Paci's story to work at all. Plus I've just not ever been all that good at writing them, tbh. But I'm trying. Sort of. Most of this is pretty canon-divergent, anyway. I mean, it's a Sith AU involving Qui-Gon. But I hope I'll at least do them justice over the course of this fic.
Updates are going to be slow, but I WILL be finishing this fic (and the other ones I've got started, promise.)
Qui-Gon felt his chest swell with pride as his Master spoke to the Council about his heroics on their recent mission. He was just two weeks shy of his seventeenth birthday and in just his first year of intensive one-on-one training with his Master he'd grown by leaps and bounds. Physically, emotionally, and with the Force. He was stronger than he'd ever imagined he could be as still a very young man, and he cut an imposing figure beside his Master.
Together, Qui-Gon Jinn was certain that he and Master Dooku were capable of handling any situation that the galaxy or the Force might throw at them.
Unfortunately, Qui-Gon was wrong.
From that particular meeting with the Council, the Master and Padawan were off to the municipal spaceport to leave on another mission, the Padawan walking slightly behind the Master and carrying both of their bags. It was grunt work that many Masters didn't force upon their Padawans, but Qui-Gon didn't complain. Truthfully, he didn't mind. He knew that he had his Master's respect, even if he was treated like a glorified pack mule at times.
"Where are we off to this time, Master?" he asked as they approached the ship that would take them away from Coruscant. He'd been paying attention in the council chamber, really he had, but he could swear they hadn't mentioned where they would be going, not even once.
Of course, there was always a chance that his mind had been wandering.
Dooku's pace faltered, but only slightly. Only another Jedi would notice. Qui-Gon, of course, noticed, and immediately felt like a fool. Clearly he had missed something important. Such shame.
"Think, Qui-Gon. It will come to you." His Master's tone was cold, but not harsh. It was a tone that Qui-Gon hadn't heard in a long while, but to which he was well accustomed.
"Yes, Master," he said, sighing softly and looking to the ground. If he cleared his mind, perhaps it would come to him.
He stayed behind Dooku as they boarded the ship and took their seats. Good, he thought. If I can meditate, I can revisit the meeting in my mind and figure out where we're kriffing going.
As the ship took off, both he and Dooku relaxed and slipped into a light meditative trance. Qui-Gon liked it when they meditated together. Meditating with his Master was like breathing. It was comfortable, familiar. Calming.
"Bandomeer," Dooku murmured, his voice barely audible. Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open. We can't really be—he thought. "We're on our way to Bandomeer."
The teenager remained silent, but he drew himself out of the meditative state before he was ready. Looking at Dooku, he found himself feeling even more ashamed than he had when Dooku had not-so-subtly alerted him that he'd missed vital information in the meeting with the Council. He was a Jedi, or at least he was training to be one.
Jedi didn't fear certain planets because of their reputations. Jedi did their job and didn't complain. Didn't shrink back in fear. Didn't take their own preferences into account when it came to what they had to do.
So why did the idea of going to Bandomeer fill Qui-Gon with such dread?
It would be many hours before Dooku would return to full consciousness, and when he did he found that Qui-Gon had fallen asleep curled around their bags. He couldn't help but smile at the comical sight of his lanky Padawan trying so hard to make himself small.
He yawned and stretched before standing and heading for the galley. There were only a few other scattered passengers in the general seating area where the Jedi had seated themselves, but every cabin on board was full. It was serving as a good exercise in humility for his Padawan, but Dooku wished the Temple could have made alternate travel arrangements for them.
The galley was cleaner than the rest of the ship that Dooku had observed thus far, which wasn't saying much. They'd chosen the least stained seats they could find, but that wasn't saying much, either. He wasn't sure whether they should trust the food served there, but he knew they wouldn't find much to their liking once they reached Bandomeer. Best to get something in their bellies now.
When he returned with a tray of food for Qui-Gon and himself, he found that the teenager had shifted from his seat to the floor and was now sleeping with his ass up in the air and his nose pressed firmly into the carpet. Their bags were still clutched tightly to his belly. Dooku sighed. That boy could sleep through anything.
"Qui. Qui-Gon, wake up." At first, Qui-Gon simply continued to quietly snore, blissfully unaware that he'd even fallen from where he'd been sitting. "Qui-Gon."
A slightly pained grunt emitted from the young man's chest as he was jolted from his slumber by his Master's condescension. "M- Master?" he murmured, slowly lifting his face. Dooku's lip curled in disgust as he looked down at his Padawan. There was a rather large amount of dried blood covering his mouth and nose, which was bent at a strange angle.
"Qui-Gon, how did you manage to sleep through breaking your nose?" he demanded with an impatient sigh. "This is utterly ridiculous."
"I- unh…" The teenager slowly got to his knees, then his feet. "I'm not entirely certain, Master. I'm sorry, Master."
"What are you apologizing to me for?" Dooku asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're the one who has to deal with a broken nose now. Go clean yourself up. I have a meal for us. I figure it's best if we eat now before we arrive."
Qui-Gon nodded and hurried off to the fresher. Dooku sighed heavily as he sat down, waiting for his Padawan to return. With a little help from the Force, Qui-Gon managed to straighten his nose more or less before returning to his seat.
"One of these days that ability of yours to sleep in any position like that is going to really end up hurting you, Qui," Dooku said as he handed a plate of food to the teenager. Qui-Gon nodded and looked at the floor.
"I know," he said. "I'm trying to be better about not falling asleep like that, but…" Dooku sighed and rolled his eyes, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"I can't exactly fault you for falling asleep, Qui-Gon," Dooku said, pushing the food around his plate. The food available on board was decidedly unappetizing. "Once we're on Bandomeer, we're going to be quite busy. It's probably good to get your sleep now."
The teenager gave a reserved but dopey grin as he looked back up at his Master. It was moments like this that made him glad that it was Dooku that had chosen him. They were more alike than his Master liked to admit, although Qui-Gon found he had no reservations when it came to the food he was served. In fact, he found it difficult not to scarf down what he'd been given even now as he processed the shame and embarrassment he felt at how he'd woken up.
Qui-Gon jerked awake as the ship lurched and shifted, signaling that it was preparing to land. He found himself wondering just how many more flights that particular ship would be able to make before it would require some rather serious maintenance.
He also found himself wondering whether the pilot had ever landed a ship before as he found himself face-to-floor once more. Sharp pain radiated from his nose outward, and he knew that he'd broken it again. Or was it further?
As he stood up and brushed himself off, he heard a rare sound. It was one that he wasn't entirely used to hearing yet. It wasn't often that he heard his Master laughing, after all. It was a subtle noise, likely not picked up by any of the other passengers in the little seating area, but Qui-Gon heard it.
"All the grace of a bantha," said the Master. Qui-Gon grinned. "I can't wait for the rest of your body to catch up with how fast your legs have been growing." A pause. "I can't imagine I'm as eager for that day as your nose is, however."
That was it. Qui-Gon doubled over laughing, very nearly pitching forward again as the ship finally landed with the exact same amount of grace that the Padawan had shown thus far. It was then that Dooku stood. Slender fingers worked to set right his cloak as he watched his Padawan mimic his actions. Somehow, Dooku knew that there would come a time that he would miss moments like this.
He never thought it would be so soon.
Qui-Gon was grateful that his Master wasn't expecting very much of him so far. After they disembarked, the teenager followed his Master dutifully, carrying their bags and keeping his head down. He knew they were there to aid in some manner of peace talks. That was almost always what their missions involved, after all.
Eyes down, ears open, his Master's words echoed in his mind as he listened to a miner plead with them to Do Something.
"That is what we are here to do, Aaji. To help. Tomorrow, when negotiations start, Qui-Gon and I will ensure that you have a safe space to voice your concerns and demands."
"Anfernon won't listen, you fool!" the miner, Aaji, replied, stepping out in front of Dooku and forcing both Jedi to stop short. Her violet eyes blazed with a passionate fire the likes of which Qui-Gon had never seen before as she glared at his Master. He quickly averted his gaze, waiting for his Master to reply. Dooku met her gaze, unblinking, and waited for her to move. She did not.
"It is not the Jedi's place to interfere. We are merely peacekeepers, Aaji. We are not here to force anyone's hand."
"Then what kriffin' good are you?" Aaji demanded. "What's the point of having you here at all?"
"Would you prefer it if we took our leave?" Dooku asked, raising an eyebrow. Qui-Gon's brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of why his Master would so willingly abandon their mission.
Aaji sighed heavily, throwing up her arms in a gesture of hopelessness. Qui-Gon felt a pang of sadness for her situation. For the miners' situation in general. He knew that theirs was a particularly hopeless one. It could have been his fate, to rot on Bandomeer.
Not a particularly likely fate, he knew, but still possible nonetheless. He'd always been among the more gifted of his peers, having managed to form a deeper connection with the Living Force than any of them. Than any Jedi, arguably, than those on the High Council. No, Qui-Gon had never really had reason to fear that he'd be sent to a planet like Bandomeer, forced off the path to becoming a Jedi, abandoned by the closest thing he'd ever really had to an actual family… But three of the Initiates that he'd counted as his friends had.
Aaji escorted them to a small apartment that was to serve as their quarters for the duration of their stay, scowling at them the whole way but keeping silent now that Dooku had made his intentions clear. Qui-Gon couldn't help but feel for her. He wanted to help her. He didn't even know what her situation was, but he knew that it was dire if she was so insistent to the Jedi that they do something to help.
"If you need anything, well…" Aaji said as she gestured into the small space the Jedi were to share. "Maybe Anfernon will take pity and offer you a reasonable loan rate since you're Jedi." She chuckled darkly as she pushed past them and wandered down the long, dimly lit corridor.