A Close Companion
Qui-Gon Jinn stalked across the broad courtyard, his steps measured if a bit swifter than his usual wont. He wore an expression of impassive Jedi calm, but beneath the outward control seethed an inward tension that snapped and sparked in the Force like faulty plasma converters. It was a challenge to keep up with the imposing Jedi Master on an average day.
Today was no average day. Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi picked up his pace in a renewed effort to avoid lagging too far behind. His Master's vexation prickled in the Force; it seemed to Obi-Wan a veritable thunderhead in the plenum, about to break into sudden and unpredictable storm.
Obi-Wan had been apprenticed to the man long enough to know that venturing to comment at this juncture –on an average day- would be akin to courting that storm armed with a lightning rod in the middle of a lake.
Today was not an average day.
"Master?" he inquired, the simple appellation encapsulating multiple layers of meaning. Respect, overlain with concern, overlain with curiosity, overlain with confusion were all reflected in a solitary word.
The single grunt of response should have acted as ample warning to desist, like that first growl of thunder upon the darkening horizon.
"Master," Obi-Wan tried again, keeping his voice carefully pitched in a low, respectful tone. "What you said to the Premeria…"
"- is not up for debate, Padawan."
"Yes, Master."
That was sufficient to bridle the youth's tongue for all of a handful of minutes before he ventured into the taut silence once more.
"I don't understand," Obi-Wan broached the topic from a slightly less direct approach. "'A Jedi shall not know anger,'" he quoted softly.
"Ah," Qui-Gon allowed, and paused abruptly in his trek to face his apprentice. "You think I spoke in anger?"
The question, couched in that tone of voice, with that raised eyebrow, could be invitation to seek deeper truth; conversely it could be invitation to impale oneself upon one's own words. Obi-Wan bowed his head slightly, silently, before murmuring, "You said at the outset that little would be gained by provocation. Further, you said that as Jedi, we do not operate by means of…threat."
A fey light entered the tall man's gaze, and as suddenly as he'd stopped, Qui-Gon resumed his march toward the colonnade at the far end of the courtyard.
"That was no threat, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon assured his apprentice. "That was stated intent."
Cerulean eyes widened imperceptibly, and suddenly Obi-Wan found himself jogging along to catch up to his long-legged mentor.
"So you mean to carry out your…intention," Obi-Wan stumbled over the word briefly. "It will take the Hyora decades to rebuild with such…Republic strictures in place, will it not?"
"As you say, Padawan," Qui-Gon allowed, glancing aside at his young charge. His pique notwithstanding, he observed the grind of wheels in his pupil's mind. "It is, however, for the best outcome of all concerned."
"It still feels like…retribution, with all due respect, Master," the boy said at last, his voice soft with concern and confusion.
The Jedi Master's momentum came to a halt once more, just past the colonnade, and the late afternoon sun strikes the long, long shadows onto the ground ahead of them.
"It is true that a Jedi eschews anger as a path to Darkness," Qui-Gon stated neutrally. "However, not all anger is equal, Padawan-mine. Tell me, what does Master Seva say about Compassion?"
Padawan Kenobi straightend, now; his favorite history lessons are on the table and he does not disappoint, reciting from the famed Master's works. "'Indignation is close companion to Compassion; they are entwined. For Indignation evinces suffering and injustice; Compassion rectifies it.'"
"Indeed." A very slight smile twitched the corner of the older man's mouth. "True indignity is not directed at any sentient being; this crosses more fully into anger. It is, rather, a recognition of those circumstances requiring rectification. Once realized, we can never leave it to others to act."
"The Hyrhun," Obi-Wan mused aloud, and his mentor nodded.
"They are effectively being held as slaves by their own people. Recommending the Senate revocation of their charter will force the Hyora to release them as part of the terms of reintroduction to the Republic once the Senate – and the Council- are satisfied with their progress." Qui-Gon shrugged vaguely now, recommencing his walk to the hangar bay where their shuttle waited. "Hyoran society, compared to the Republic at large, is relatively young. I think they will correct their errors in time and be received back without overwhelming deleterious effect."
Obi-Wan trotted along after Qui-Gon, mulling over the entire confrontation.
"So…not anger. Indignation," he declared solemnly. His mentor had not tipped over some invisible line into heresy.
"From the lips of Master Chakora Seva himself," Qui-Gon confirmed wryly and the turbulent Force suddenly mellowed around them into gentle ripples. "Part of our oath as Jedi is to succor and benefit all sentient beings. Occasionally, Compassion needs a…swift kick in the posterior."
The pair of Jedi entered the Republic shuttle, and Obi-Wan immediately settled into the co-pilot's chair, briefly craning his neck to address his master, a mischievous light in his eyes.
"So you're saying that if I find Compassion lagging for a certain Padawan-learner, that I should…inspire it in the salles?"
A raised eyebrow and a sharp snort preceded the riposte.
"Indignation, Padawan-mine, not insubordination. You may consider the difference while running the Temple perimeter upon our return."
Obi-Wan slouched down in his seat. Apparently Compassion and Indignation had their limits.
"Yes, Master."