" To the outside world we all grow old. But not to brothers and sisters. We know each other as we always were. We know each other's hearts. We live outside the touch of time."–

Obi Wan sat staring at the console on the sleek ship, comlink waiting idly in his hand. After nearly two years of apprenticeship, he had already learned many of his master's habits. The tall Jedi's extended absence and lack of communication suggested that somehow, somewhere, Qui Gon Jinn had stumbled upon yet another pathetic life-form. The young padawan closed his eyes and leaned back in the cushioned chair, hoping against hope that this latest hypothetical pet project would at least be lacking in such things as tentacles and teeth. It was unlike his master to remain out of contact for so long without a reason.

"Excuse me, young Jedi." The queen's handmaiden- Dorme, was it?- interrupted his brooding. "Her majesty requests your presence. We are receiving a transmission from Naboo."

Obi Wan nodded and followed the girl to the queen's receiving room. He bowed deeply and sat near the Captain of the Guard, glancing fleetingly at the young monarch while the technician patched the message through. Obi Wan had been astonished to learn that the ruler of the Naboo was barely a year older than him, but Queen Amidala had already proved herself to be both brave and compassionate, and worthy of her peoples' faith in her. Still, he sensed her pain and anxiety as her advisor's holoimage pled for her assistance. She may think it worth the risk to contact him personally. She would listen to Qui Gon if he was here- he always commanded respect and loyalty, even from people he'd just met. Obi Wan summoned his most authoritative tone. "Make no reply," he commanded, striding from the room. Then, for good measure, "make no transmissions of any kind."

Thankfully, Qui Gon was finally able to answer Obi Wan's comm. "Master," he breathed, relief and aggravation evident in his tone. "You've been out of contact for hours."

"I am sorry, Obi Wan. I've been attempting to negotiate for the parts we need. Were you aware that Toydarians are immune to mind influence where money is concerned?"

"I was not, Master, though I'll be sure to remember it the next time we're stranded on an uncivilized dustbowl," he quipped, then remembered the reason for his comm. "Master, we've had a transmission from an official on Naboo- a plea for help, though I sense it is a trick. I told the queen not to reply, but I fear she may become desperate where her peoples' lives are concerned."

"You did rightly, Padawan. It sounds like bait, to establish a connection trace."

Obi Wan was grateful for the confidence evident in his master's voice, but it still left them in a difficult position. "What if it is true, and the people are dying?"

Qui Gon sighed. "Either way, we are running out of time."

The connection ended, Obi Wan took to pacing restlessly around the ship's comm center. Though grateful for his master's faith in him, he still doubted himself. Often. And right now he sincerely doubted his ability to keep the queen from making a transmission. After all, he wasn't quite fourteen. His robes and cloak surely weren't enough to inspire obedience from anyone. His newly-build 'saber might do the trick, but it seemed to him that whatever intimidation he could count on from that corner would always be outweighed by the undignified dimples that marked the last vestiges of childhood on his adolescent face.

And there was something else- though they were many klicks apart for their conversation, Obi Wan had sensed that Qui Gon was keeping something from him. Something important. He'd felt a disturbance in the Force when they'd landed on this horrible, sand-covered world, and his master's secrecy was not a source of inspiration. Sighing, he turned his focus back to the present moment,where it belongs, padawan mine. After all, it wasn't as though there could be anything life-changing to be found in a place like this.

A cool breeze pulled at the dark cloak's hood, briefly obscuring the menacing visage beneath. Malice and hatred oozed from the figure, darkness streaked across his young face. The being was no man, but he'd long outgrown both childhood and innocence. A sneer formed on his lips. His master was powerful, and ruthless. All his short life he had trained for this moment, and now he would have his revenge. He turned his back on Coruscant's glittering skyline and strode purposefully toward the hangar bay. It was time for the Jedi to die.

Obi Wan willed his frustration into submission. Of all the ridiculous, foolhardy, spontaneous, Living Force-inspired Jedi in all the Order throughout a millennium's rich history, he was forsworn to the absolute Master. The was no other possible explanation for Qui Gon's plan to risk their ship parts, their very lives, on a slave boy. He attempted to release the bulk of his apprehension into the Force before he spoke into his comlink, willing his voice to an artificial calm. "What if this plan fails, Master? We could be stuck here for a very long time."

He felt Qui Gon's repressed chuckle across their bond and bristled slightly. "Well, my padawan, it's far too dangerous to call for help, and a ship without a power supply isn't going to get us anywhere." He paused, clearly waiting for his young apprentice to capitulate. Obi Wan sighed.

"Yes, Master. It shall be as the Force wills."

"It shall indeed." Another pause, one pregnant with foreboding. Obi Wan waited patiently. His master had been keeping something from him since they'd landed on this sand pit of a planet, and he felt Qui Gon's hesitation. Finally the deep voice came over the comm, almost as an afterthought. "And… there's something about this boy…"

Qui Gon abruptly ended the transmission, leaving Obi Wan with a very bad feeling about this mission, and the gamble they were taking to complete it, and, above all, the pathetic life form that had so captivated his mentor.

Hours later, the twin suns gently kissed the distant horizon, the cool of night settling as a welcome relief. Obi Wan took full advantage of the reprieve to flow through the kata he and Qui Gon had been working on. He sank into the Living Force, feeling the wildness of the desert planet, channeling it through his extensions, allowing his 'saber to become part of him. His master's decision to stay in town with the slave boy had given the padawan ample fuel for brooding the afternoon away, and now with a lengthy sigh he attempted to release the resulting jumble of emotions. The Force smoothed away his anxiety, his bad feeling, and the brief flare of jealousy he'd felt at the way Qui Gon had spoken about the boy- with an awe almost bordering on reverence.

He ended the kata in a lunge, 'saber parallel to the cooling sand, and breathed deeply of the warm air. For a brief moment, all was calm in the deepening twilight. Obi Wan looked up to watch the first stars appear and smiled briefly at a large meteor making a beautiful trail in the dusk- before realizing the size and trajectory were nothing like a meteor. It was a ship, small enough to be a mere shuttle, certainly carrying no more than a single passenger and an accompanying very, very bad feeling. He considered going after it until he saw how far away it would land. Even he knew better than to cross the desert at night, on foot, alone. He considered attempting to contact Qui Gon and thought better of it, smiling darkly to himself as he trudged back to the Naboo cruiser and determined that his master was likely far too busy for his padawan's inconsequential observations.

The day of the podrace came, and all on board the gleaming Naboo ship held their collective breath. Obi Wan did his best to project calm and confidence as he roamed the various rooms and corridors, but at the core of his being he was as nervous as the rest of them. They were taking a terrible risk, trusting their fate to a slave boy's podracing skills. A human slave boy's skills, at that. As unacquainted as he was with the sport, Obi Wan was at least aware enough to know that a human did not possess the reflexes to pilot a podracer. Unless, of course, that human was a Jedi. A stray though flitted across his mind- surely Qui Gon didn't believe the boy was Force-sensitive? And if he did, surely he wouldn't be crazy enough to ask the council to induct a ten year old child? Even the infamous maverick must have his limits… mustn't he?

At long last, the comlink in his hand buzzed faintly. "Master?"

"Good afternoon, padawan mine. How go things on the crippled ship?"

Obi Wan was in no mood for play. He tried desperately to keep his eyes in a forward facing position as he briskly replied. "Master, the race- is it over?"

"Race? Ah, yes. The Boonta Eve Race has been completed, and it was quite an exciting event." Qui Gon could be infuriating when he chose to be. His impatient apprenticed bounced on the balls of his feet, brows raised in welcoming salute of the statement that ought to naturally follow such a proclamation. When no further information was forthcoming, Obi Wan took a deep, centering breath. "I'm sure it was delightful, Master, but who won?"

"Who won? Why, Anakin, of course. Did I not tell you he would?"

"I believe your exact words, Master, were 'we must trust in the Living Force, padawan'."

"Ah. Close enough. For the record, I did know he would win. The parts for the ship are on their way to you as we speak. You will supervise the repairs while I finish up some business here in town."

Obi Wan leaned his head against the bulkhead with a longsuffering sigh. "With respect, Master, what could possibly be left that is so urgent we must delay our departure further? The queen will insist-"

"The queen will accept my decision and listen to my counsel, as should you, my young apprentice. I will return as quickly as I may. Oh- one more thing- please ask the steward to track down a few extra thermal blankets. He can place them in our cabin." Qui Gon cut the transmission as Obi Wan cringed outwardly, gritting his teeth against the logical conclusion behind his master's request. He took yet another deep centering breath and focused his attention on the present moment. The ship parts would be arriving momentarily, and he was more than ready to be off this desert planet for good.