Chapter 13: Conflictions and Affiliations

"Obi-Wan has finally drove you out of the apartment?"

Qui-Gon chuckled a smile over the comment. "If anyone, it would be me that would drive Obi-Wan out."

Jedi Knight Tahl had one of the droids pull out a chair for Qui-Gon. "Take a seat, old friend," she gestured and Qui-Gon graciously accepted the offer. "If not Obi-Wan, what brings you to my door?"

Qui-Gon resigned, his hands on his knees as he stared off for a moment. "I had to get away for a moment," he admitted. "Away from Jedi business and be amongst friends."

"Or friend," Jedi Tahl pointed out as they were the only two occupying the room.

"My closest friend."

They stayed silent for a moment, before recognizing what the silence meant. But, Tahl quickly turned away to reach for her datapad. "As your closest friend," she began, swallowing a little hard, "I'm obligated to ask what's wrong."

Qui-Gon scratched underneath his chin. "I came across something I found wrong," he confided. "Something that I cannot approve."

Tahl's threw an astutely grin to Qui-Gon. "Did you and the Jedi Council get into another argument?"

"No."

Tahl paused, her hand gently moving down her armchair, feeling the ends. Her gaze soften, but her curious voice remained. "Does it have to do with the two mysterious Jedi Knights?"

Qui-Gon's brows rose, but it did not surprise him that Tahl knew. "Yes."

Tahl hummed an understanding. "I see—well, I sense," she corrected as she let her fingertips brush underneath her eyes. "The Jedi Temple have been spreading a lot of rumors about those two. I have yet to meet them. In fact, very little have." Her crystal eyes moved back to her datapad, hand running over the front. "I heard you are helping them on a mission."

Qui-Gon watched as she moved her fingers along the pad as vibrations informed her of what she searched and the answers. "That is true," he replied, "but I can tell you no more. It involves very delicate matter."

"The delicate matter being the attacks on the Temple?"

Qui-Gon said nothing, which only seemed to make Tahl smile more. "I know you too well, Qui-Gon," she said. "But—do not worry. I will not speak of anything you say."

"I know," Qui-Gon confirmed and he looked squarely in Tahl's eyes. "Of everyone in the Temple, I trust you the most."

Tahl made no reaction to the comment. She typed on her datapad, eyes still on the screen though she could not see anything it reported. "So, you still planning to tell me what is upsetting you? Or you just going to mope?"

"I'm not here to wallow," Qui-Gon assured her. "Like I said, I just needed to be around a friend." He breathed deeply for a moment, gathering his thoughts together. His eyes flickered back to Tahl. "I'm not happy with how the two Jedi Knights work."

Tahl peaked over her shoulder, listening as Qui-Gon continued. "When discussing the mission," he explained, glancing away. "They both…they both acted more like soldiers and not peacekeepers.

"They talked strategies and planned out possible attack points," Qui-Gon continued and then he peered up to Tahl's face, his throat constricting a little as he spoke. "They're soldiers more than they are Jedi Knights. They even somewhat admitted it."

Tahl turned completely in her chair by the time Qui-Gon was done. Her gaze fell on him with understanding and sympathy. "You're disappointed," she said. It was not a question. It was a fact.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Disappointed, yes—but not in them."

"But in yourself," Tahl added, to which Qui-Gon bowed his head. "Why?"

Hearing Jedi Kenobi and Anakin speak of attack plans and defensive structures was like having a lightsaber stab him in multiple places. This is not how he wanted to raise Obi-Wan. He did not want his padawan to become a soldier. Jedi Knights were to be peacekeepers. Not soldiers.

Yet, spending an hour with them brought the horror crashing down on Qui-Gon. During the whole planning, he remained silent, his heart growing weaker every minute the duo spoke of strategies. How did he let Obi-Wan fall? How could he let Obi-Wan be turned into a solider?

Qui-Gon rubbed his temples, thinking. "I'm disappointed in how I approached them," he said. "All they see is war and I'm afraid I cannot make them see it otherwise. That is why I'm disappointed."

"Have you even tried?"

Qui-Gon's lips fell to distraught frown as he thought about his young padawan and how he'll grow up to be a Jedi solider. "Yes," he replied. "I still am."

Tahl nodded once. "Then you must keep trying. Do not give up on them yet," she advised and then paused. "Do you know who their masters were?"

"No," Qui-Gon answer, a little too quickly, but Tahl didn't catch it.

She only murmured to herself. "That's unfortunate," she said. "Perhaps you could have spoken with them. Get an idea on how they were trained."

Qui-Gon nodded, again thinking of his own training with his padawan. "I think I have an idea."

Tahl cocked her head to her side. "There's still something that worries you," she said. "You can tell me Qui-Gon. I will not hold judgment."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily as he leaned back in his seat, looking at Tahl once again. Taking in her whole figure, he caught how the light glimmered her honey dark skin making it look sleek. Her dark, thick hair pulled into a messy bun, away from her crystal eyes that clouded her vision, but not her source to the Force. She was still beautiful as ever, but more so in her personality.

Since their days as initiates, Qui-Gon and Tahl had been good friends. Always trying to one up each other in a friendly competition, they grew into becoming one of the best Jedi Padawans in their generation. Though often busy serving their masters, they still tried to make time for each other, spending most of their free time with one another. Master Dooku warned Qui-Gon several times in regards to Tahl to the point that he often dragged Qui-Gon away to distant missions to keep him focused on the Force rather than his friend.

Qui-Gon understood Master Dooku's reasons. If the Council ever saw how close he and Tahl became, they would be expelled them from the Temple. Something neither he nor Tahl wanted. Even though their feelings haven't changed since the years passed, they remained platonic. On occasion, this aggravated Qui-Gon, but after the whole Xanatos incident, he agreed that he could not be with her. So, he sent himself away. To be alone.

But, here he was again. In her apartment. Talking like they were still young padawans. Sharing secrets and thoughts.

Qui-Gon dragged his hands to his knees. "I worry that the Jedi Order may become something it should not," he said. "That it may lose its way."

Tahl smirked again, though wider than before. "You're sounding like your old master," she said. "Did he contact you again?"

Qui-Gon thought back to the last time his master contacted him. It was a few months back. He wanted to catch up with his old padawan before departing for an undercover mission. It was brief—like most of his conversations with his old master. "Not since he left for his mission," he answered to Tahl's question.

"Always the political idealist," Tahl joked. "He should have become a politician instead of a Jedi."

"Maybe in another lifetime," Qui-Gon replied. "If he hadn't become a Jedi, he would have been a Count."

"Oh—yes…I'm aware."

Qui-Gon chuckled over how often his master made sure everyone around him knew of his heritage without even saying it outright. Unlike the other Jedi Knights in the temple, Master Dooku poised himself in a regal manner, demanding respect and attention while being charismatic and speaking in a language that sounded too aristocratic to be considered ever a Jedi Knight. Perhaps that is why he often went on undercover missions in high rankings of social hierarchy? He easily blended in well with politicians and royal parties with his fine tastes and delicate clothing.

Qui-Gon had been the opposite of his master, preferring regular Jedi-ordained clothes, enjoying the company of "hapless" creatures and spending his time in meditation or enjoying nature.

"Back to your original worry," Tahl directed, catching Qui-Gon's attention again. "Do you believe the Jedi Order is losing its way?"

Qui-Gon merely shrugged. "I don't know. But, from what I sensed from the Jedi Knights," he said. "It's heading in a direction I do not wish to take part of."

Tahl remained quiet for a long time, her warm smile fading rapidly. "Oh…Qui-Gon," she murmured. "You're serious!"

"I will not be a part of an order that turns Knights into soldiers," Qui-Gon stated. "I do not support war. And, I'll have not part of it."

"Qui-Gon—you're acting like it's going to happen," Tahl said, worried. "Did you have…a premonition?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No—you know I don't get those. Too invested in the Living Force to receive premonitions," he said. "No—this is just a feeling. A feeling I got when I was with the two Jedi Knights."

"And you're worried it may come true?"

Qui-Gon resigned in his seat. "I worry it may and that…that I may lose Obi-Wan to it."

And, the Jedi Master sagged in his seat. He managed to finally get to the truth of his anxieties. Losing Obi-Wan—failing another padawan—was something he knew he could not go through again. He told Master Yoda the same thing. He cannot bear to fail again, to be broken. Yet, he's met his padawan's older self. Seen what Jedi Kenobi is capable of doing. His padawan turned into something Qui-Gon enormously despised.

He failed his padawan.

As Qui-Gon dwelled, he felt a gentle wave of the Force comforting him. He looked up and saw Tahl's hand in the air, searching for him. Qui-Gon caught her hand with his own. Her fingers wrapped comfortably around his hand and a small smile beamed on her face. "Remember your own words, my dear friend," she said. "Live in the moment."

Qui-Gon stifled a chuckle as he smiled at Tahl. "Never had my own words thrown back at me."

Tahl kept her smile. "I'm not throwing it back, just reminding you that not everything is set in stone," she said. "And, as for Obi-Wan—that boy adores you. He'll follow you wherever you go. You won't lose him. No matter how hard you try."

Qui-Gon held Tahl's hand tightly, her words easing him into a better state of mind. She was always able to do that for him. Make him a better person, easing up his stoic behavior that he learned from his master.

They fell silent once again, still holding each other's hand. Neither willing to let go.

It was nice.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"

Anakin couldn't help that his mind was too busy thinking about the reasons why Qui-Gon ran out of the room. He kept coming up with different reasons, but none of them seemed to be true. Anakin flipped on his side, looking across the way to Obi-Wan, who had his head buried between the pillow and the couch's back.

"Why did Qui-Gon run away?" Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan groans muffled through the pillow. "Why do you think he ran away?"

Anakin huffed, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Why do you always answer my questions with a question?"

"Because I'm curious as to know why you're asking," Obi-Wan replied, drowsily. "Now—why do you think he ran away?"

"I don't know. I felt that he was—afraid or didn't like us or something—I don't know," Anakin sighed, thinking back to Qui-Gon face when he pried himself away from them. It almost felt like a rejection. Maybe it was rejection? No…it couldn't be. Qui-Gon wasn't like the rest of the Jedi Order. He didn't reject him. But still…

Anakin flung off his couch and nudged himself beside Obi-Wan, who protested. "Anakin!" he grunted as Anakin slid himself onto the couch, his shoulders pressed close into Obi-Wan's back. He forced Obi-Wan to turn, making more room for Anakin to fit decently on the couch. "This is ridiculous—"

"He didn't say a single word when we were planning on how to keep the Temple or your younger self safe," Anakin interrupted. "Not a single word."

"Okay."

"And, then after looking at some of the plans, he wanted to leave immediately," Anakin added. "Didn't even want us to tag along."

Obi-Wan shuffled himself on the couch, so that he rested half on his back and half on his side. "Did you ever think that maybe Qui-Gon doesn't want to hang-out with us all the time?"

Anakin snapped his head to Obi-Wan. "Why not?"

Obi-Wan rolled his head so that he could look at Anakin through the darkness. "Anakin, he doesn't know us," he said. "This isn't the Qui-Gon you met as a boy. To him, we are just another pair of Jedi Knights."

"No…he knows you!" Anakin disputed. "He seems comfortable with you."

"Hardly," Obi-Wan countered. "He looks at me like a stranger. I'm not the padawan he recognizes. He may recognize me by the name and Force Signature, but I'm still a stranger."

"At least he knows you," Anakin replied, grumpily. "He doesn't know anything about me. Just my name."

"And that you're a skilled pilot, mechanically adapt and a strong fighter," Obi-Wan noted. "You did show off those skills today."

Anakin grinned, remembering the look of Qui-Gon's impressed face when he fixed his comlink. "True…but, I don't want him to see me…I don't know…like a stranger."

"Give him time, Anakin. It's been a rough day for him. He just learned that his padawan is targeted by a Sith Lord and that his padawan and another Knight from the future returned to help stop that from happening," Obi-Wan reminded Anakin. "It's a lot to take in. For anybody."

Anakin thought over, recognizing that he could see why Qui-Gon would be a little distant from them. In fact, with Obi-Wan pointing all that out, Anakin was impressed that Qui-Gon managed to stay very sane and calm throughout the whole ordeal. "Okay—I understand, but I still don't like it," he admitted. "I just—I want him to be proud of me. To show him that he was right about me. That I'm a great Jedi Knight. That he wasn't wrong. Not disappointed, you know?"

Obi-Wan breathed deeply. "Yes—I know exactly what you mean."

Anakin propped up on the couch. "You don't think we disappointed him?"

Obi-Wan mulled, his lips moving as if he was chewing the question. "I cannot say," he said. "I don't think we disappointed him. I think…we may have overwhelmed him."

"With all our knowledge?"

"Something like that," Obi-Wan muttered.

Anakin fell back on the couch, feeling a little better than before and he stared up at the ceiling. A ceiling he recognized very much. A smile quirked on Anakin's lips. "It's funny looking up at this ceiling," he said and pointed to a portion that was halfway between them and the door. "It's been a while since I hadn't seen a black smudge right there."

Obi-Wan followed Anakin's direction. "Yes—I remember. Your droid backfired on you."

"It didn't backfire."

"You're quite right," Obi-Wan agreed, eyes reminiscing. "It just shot up all the oil in its contents right to the ceiling. Dirtied the whole place…and spoiled your new robes."

"Hey! I was building that droid to help us keep the apartment clean," Anakin reasoned. "That way we didn't have to worry about it and can focus on meditation or—"

Obi-Wan snorted. "Please! You built that droid to clean up your own messy room," he said. "You grew tired of me telling you to keep it tidy."

Anakin would have loved to countered Obi-Wan statement, but he couldn't. His master was absolutely correct. He built the droid to save himself time. Though, once he got the droid working, it did wonders to keep the place clean. It was not as good as C-3PO in cleaning or as good as R2-D2 in being an astrodroid. But, it did what he programmed it to do until it short circuited.

"Doesn't matter why I built it," Anakin said. "It helped us."

"It and all the other little droids you managed to trick into coming to our apartment," Obi-Wan commented. "I don't think there was a single droid left in the Temple that you hadn't managed to tweak."

Anakin smiled. "I left a few alone."

"Only because the Jedi Council forbade you to do anymore 'improvements," Obi-Wan reminded him, "which I was relieved."

Anakin curled his nose at the comment, but Obi-Wan kept speaking. "You were fine after a while," Obi-Wan said, "Especially when you got that little blue droid."

"You mean Artoo?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "You didn't care about the other droids after that," he said. "You only focused on it."

"Well—it's Artoo," Anakin said, matter-of-factly. "He's my little buddy. Didn't need another one."

"Oh yes…I know," Obi-Wan responded. "I remember you refusing to take another droid after losing Artoo. You searched the galaxy for the droid."

"You know why," Anakin said, not really liking Obi-Wan suggestion. "Artoo had a lot of information. Things the Separatists couldn't have. I needed to rescue him."

"And I remember agreeing," Obi-Wan replied, calmly. "But, I'm curious as to why you never erased the droid's memory as requested by the Jedi Order."

"Why do you think I didn't do it?" Anakin countered, a sneer emerging as he used Obi-Wan's deflection against him.

Obi-Wan didn't say anything at first. He dragged his fingers along his chin, before wiping his eyes to remove any signs of tiredness. "Short or long answer?"

"Short."

"Attachment."

Anakin cocked an eyebrow. "Attachment?" he repeated before groaning, "Not this lecture again…"

"You asked for my opinion," Obi-Wan warned to which Anakin greatly regretted. "You're attached to that blue droid because it reminds you of Padme."

Anakin's heart jolted, a burst of hot anger licked his insides as he became rigid in responded. "We already discussed this, Obi-Wan," he gritted, trying to control the rising heat. "You and the rest of the Jedi made it perfectly clear. I'm to be alone."

"Not alone," Obi-Wan affirmed, his hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You're not alone, Anakin. You never will be, but you cannot grow an emotional attachment like that. It's too dangerous."

"I know."

"Yes—I know you know, Anakin. But I—"

Anakin's frown deepened and his fingers curled in agitation. Red rising to his cheeks, he snapped.

"I KNOW!"

His thunderous voice disturbed the Force. Anakin turned to get off the couch—away from Obi-Wan—when he saw that look on Obi-Wan's face.

It wasn't shock. Or hurt. Or scared. He acknowledged Anakin with a sad acceptance. "Yes," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "I know too."

Anakin didn't say anything for a moment, recollecting his memories of Obi-Wan and, of course, the blonde girl he met briefly—Satine. He joked around with Obi-Wan, calling the Duchess his girlfriend, which annoyed Obi-Wan immensely. But, Anakin could see right through his master's annoyance. Obi-Wan held a deep love for Satine. And, it never truly went away despite going their separate ways. Even after her death, Anakin saw the flame inside Obi-Wan's heart that he still held for her.

Perhaps, Obi-Wan did understand—but, unlike Obi-Wan, Anakin fought for Padme. Always will.

Anakin repositioned himself back on Obi-Wan's couch, taking a deep breath and letting his anger flow out of him. "Sorry Master," he said. "It's just…I know the rules."

"I'm sure you do," Obi-Wan replied before a cheeky grin spread on his face. "After all, I did spend a good portion of my life repeatedly telling you all the rules."

Anakin rolled his eyes at his master's tease. "Good-night, Obi-Wan."

"Good-night Anakin."

When Qui-Gon returned to the apartment, he was not expecting this.

As he quietly graced his apartment, lights all turned off, he took a few steps to his quarters when his eyes caught the sight of two forms, lumped together on a single couch. Qui-Gon paused, looking over how both Jedi Kenobi and Anakin squeezed themselves onto a single couch, sleeping soundly like they were in their own cots.

Qui-Gon leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as he studied the two Knights. Jedi Kenobi, pressed against the back cushion, slept on his side to make room for his much taller companion. They both slept back-to-back, with Anakin taking up much of the room. Jedi Kenobi, Qui-Gon noticed, had his fingers latched onto Anakin's utility belt, holding the younger Jedi in place to avoid falling face first onto the floor.

When the door closed behind Qui-Gon, they did not stir. Is this how they sleep? Qui-Gon wondered as he watched their chests rise and fall in gentle motions. Did they not know they could use the other couch? But, as Qui-Gon looked at the empty couch, he saw a blanket strewn over the backside. Someone slept there at one point and he guessed that it was Anakin who fled the couch. Were they not used to sleeping in separate beds?

It was strange for Qui-Gon to see how close and comfortable they were with each other. It was an odd concept. These two Jedi Knights—very in tuned with one another—held no regard to the old traditions. They had an implicit amount of trust and support for one another that deepened their bond. Qui-Gon (or anyone else in the Temple) have never seen such a bond of friendship like the one Jedi Kenobi and Anakin present.

Qui-Gon pulled away from the duo. He will talk more with them tomorrow. He should let them rest as well as he should. He stepped back, turning his feet to the direction of his quarters when his shoes on the floor squeaked.

In that one moment, Jedi Kenobi and Anakin's eyes were closed.

The next, they were opened.

Conscious and alert, they sprang into action like they were never asleep. The drowsiness washed away with a simple blink as they both ignited their lightsabers, raised in strike or defense position. Anakin moved swiftly, his blue lightsaber swung near Qui-Gon, stopping near his throat as the blue light hued his features.

"Qui-Gon?" Anakin said, his voice distressed.

Qui-Gon didn't dare nod, afraid he may burn his neck. "Yes, it's me."

Qui-Gon didn't even finish his statement before Anakin deactivated his lightsaber, pocketing it back on his utility belt. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "Not used to someone sneaking into the apartment."

Qui-Gon relaxed now that he no longer was held by a lightsaber and he flashed his attention to Jedi Kenobi. His older padawan already pocketed his lightsaber, but still acted like nothing went amiss. That the whole scene was a normal, everyday situation.

"You okay, Qui-Gon sir?"

The Jedi Master turned back to Anakin, who had his head tilted and eyes peering at him. "I didn't nick you, did I?" Anakin queried, squinting to get a good look at Qui-Gon's neck.

Qui-Gon gently rubbed his neck, showing no blood. "No, but you came close," he said, truthfully. "Good reflexes."

A tiny smile bore on Anakin's face. "Thanks," he muttered. "But, sorry about that. Didn't think you were coming back tonight."

"Where else would I sleep?" Qui-Gon questioned, to which Anakin shrugged.

Jedi Kenobi steadily approached the two. "How did the meeting go with Master Yoda?" he inquired. "Did he manage to heal the memory disturbance?"

"I'm afraid that he spoke little on the matter of the assassin," Qui-Gon lied, remembering that he told them he went to search for Master Yoda. "I'll get a full report of it tomorrow."

"Then what did you discuss?" Anakin probed in a curious fashion.

Qui-Gon clamped a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "It is late," he stated. "And, I'm afraid we will have an early rise tomorrow. It is best we rest well tonight," His eyes bounced from Anakin to Jedi Kenobi and he gave a nod. "I'll tell you more in the morning."

The anxieties of the lie departed from his body as he turned away from Anakin and Jedi Kenobi. He had no interest in giving them false information or hopes. He'll tell them more in the morning—after his scheduled meeting with Master Yoda.

He heard Anakin's feet drag behind him while Jedi Kenobi whispered in his cultured voice that Qui-Gon could not even hear sentences. He assumed the Jedi was telling Anakin to sleep on his own couch.

Qui-Gon arrived in his little quarters that held very little furniture. Beside a bed, desk, dresser and a few plants, his room was nothing spectacular. But, it kept his mind at peace and allowed him sleep. Something he desperately needed in order to get his mind wrapped completely around the whole day.

He plopped on his bed and took off his shoes where he placed them neatly beside his bed. Once ready, he rolled onto his stiff bed, eyes looking straight up at the ceiling in deep thought.

So much of his world has changed. Ever since he stepped off the ramp that early morning, it all changed, flipped upside-down. With an older version of his padawan sleeping in the room over and a Sith Lord plotting to kill his padawan, it all felt ridiculous. How did all this occur in one single day? That's all it took. One day to change both his and his padawan's lives forever.

Qui-Gon exhaled. A difficult journey laid ahead for them.

Dooku was not surprised.

He didn't expect the bounty hunter to live up to his reputation. In fact, he expected betrayal. He figured the scrappy imbecile would become a chatter box instantly. So, it did not surprise him at all as he watched and listened to the idiot plead for his life and tell that Skywalker brat everything.

Though, he took precautions. He scattered the man's memory of him. It was such a jumble that even Master Yoda may find it difficult to piece together. It humored Dooku a little to know that he outsmarted his master.

Dooku did not become emotional over Codec's failure. If anything, his failure helped further Dooku's plans. Codec's actions gave Dooku exactly what he needed. The boy separated from his master and isolated from the rest of the Jedi Order.

It made Dooku's next course of action easier.

Dooku viewed the Jedi Temple from afar, the lights that streamed from the towering spires acted like a beacon. The only strongest, brightest light in the area that remained in a dull dark neighborhood. But, in a few years, that light will dim. It will be swallowed by the dark shadows, corrupting and abusing the power the Jedi let go. The honor of the Jedi will fall at the hands of greedy politicians. It should never had come to that, but the Jedi Order—the Jedi Council—allowed it. They became complacent. Unimaginative in what could make the Order better. Powerful.

Dooku gave one last look at the mighty Jedi Temple. It will all be over.

Soon.