Chapter 8
Qui-gon watched the strange unidentified emotions flicker through the once familiar eyes. The last time he saw Obi-wan's eyes like that, was when he renounced Obi-wan from the Jedi Order. He still had no idea what possessed him that made him land the blow on Obi-wan's face.
The past event played back in his memory, as if it was happening again, right in front of his eyes. The iron smell of blood filled the air, the Governor laid in a heap, the distinct marks of a lightsabre slash apparent, criss-crossing the man's chest. The sickeningly sweet smell of charred flesh could be detected if you stepped closer to the corpse.
On the floor, still warm from the attack, laid a lightsabre. Obi-wan's lightsabre. Leaning on the wall, breathing heavily, was Obi-wan himself, looking flushed and dazed.
He remembered the horror, then anger that flowed through him, providing all the adrenaline he needed. Ignoring his padawan's weak protests, he grabbed the boy by the collar, dragging him out of the late Governor's estate. That was enough to inform the guards that the "culprit" would be punished, and they moved quickly out of the angry Jedi's path.
Betrayal screamed non-stop into his head, forming a smoke screen in front of him, enabling him to think clearly. His own self-pity engulfed him, making him belief that everyone in the world was out trying to hurt him. Not once, until it was too late, did it ever hit him that each "But…" DID actually hold a value. But even though his anger-fogged mind, he saw the haunting green eyes, and the picture burned itself deep down into his memory.
Now, the same green eyes stared at him, and all the word he wanted to tell his Padawan dissolved on his tongues.
"Master Jedi. I'm honored to fight at your side."
Qui-gon listened hard, trying to detect a trace of sarcasm, but found none. It was just a statement, it's lack of respect in tone contrasted with the words, but not to an extend which Qui-gon would call rude.
Before he could say more, Obi-wan walked over to the vacant seats, his group of men following him silently, bit eyeing Qui-gon with a look of caution. Even through his ex-padawan's confident footsteps, he noticed a slight limp that bothered Obi-wan's usual cat-like grace. His men were not better off either. Each one either favored a broken limb, or was decorated with numerous bandages. But like everyone else in the room, their eyes burned with determination.
"Bri. Glad to have you with us." The General greeted the young man with a nod. Wither he didn't hear Qui-gon call Obi-wan by his real name, or he chose to ignore it.
Obi-wan gave a sharp salute back in response, and the Gaderffii followed suite. Qui-gon would have grinned at the way his team followed Obi-wan, like little ducklings imitating a grown duck, but the seriousness of the situation prevented him.
Obi-wan sat down, his heart in his throat. He couldn't handle this. Tomorrow would be one of the most important days in his life, and a distraction, which made his own feeling cryptic, would be fatal.
He listened to the General talking, storing the information at the back of his mind, allowing himself to review in anytime late. A skill he learnt after the many years of studying in the Jedi Temple. The instruction for the Gaderffii in the "Great Battle" (so they called it) was quite simple. They were split into two groups. One group consisting of snipers, the second was filled by the rest. The first group would star the action first, bringing Dow all the officials, leaders, while the second group crept up on them in the time of confusion. The strategy brought a feral grin onto Obi-wan's face. Self-destruction with a little push was his favourite way of working. Why not make the enemy's own mistake bring him down? Through the information Loran infitrated, the enemies were spurred on by string competition, not unity. Ensigns followed orders without questions. With the leaders down, the enemy was definitely going to scatter.
Qui-gon was only half listening to the General talk. The rest of his attention centered on Obi-wan. He recognized the slight movement of agreement on Obi-wan's face. Each time during mission debriefings, Obi-wan would give Qui-gon his full attention, not expressing his opinions until he was finished talking. He missed the pure attention his former apprentice use to focus on him when he was giving instructions. Obi-wan never got a single detail wrong when it had anything to do with carrying out instructions. He was always alert to every words, every phrase. Thinking about the way his Padawan treated him, the total devotion and faith, he still couldn't believe his own actions. (*grins* sorry 'bout this "I can't believe I did this" repetitions).
The meeting ended soon enough, with the General's instructions for a goodnight's rest. Standing up, stretching, Qui-gon raised his head to looked for Obi-wan, but the seat he occupied was vacant.
