A/N: Okay, looooong note here. It's good to know you're all still reading—thanks! I am surprised, though, at how much most of you hate Qui-Gon in my story. I mean, I never meant to portray him quite so badly. I always kind of thought of him as a tragic figure here. I mean, I have this whole rationale behind Qui-Gon's behavior but I really strive not to be didactic so I encourage you all to read this following chapter carefully and try to empathize a little with Qui-Gon. I grant that his actions do seem a bit out of character—after all, the Qui-Gon we all know and love would never, ever forsake Obi-Wan, right? I'm with you. But, I do note, that in TPM he does seem to push Obi-Wan aside. I honestly feel that he never intended to say Obi-Wan was ready for the Trials before the Council but that it was the only way he could train Anakin. I think if Anakin wasn't there, he would have waited at least a little while on Obi-Wan's Knighthood. This, to me, demonstrates the beginning of Qui-Gon's skewed attention. There is obviously a bit of a gap beginning to grow between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, hence their disagreement over Anakin. Obi-Wan makes amends, but, I may be alone in this, I felt they were rather superficial. And I definitely think that Qui-Gon forgot about Obi-Wan when he died, focusing all of his attention on Anakin. This does not sound like the loving, caring master we all think Qui-Gon should be. I assert that he was out of character in the movie and, had he lived, he would have become more out of character not because he's a bad guy but because he was overcome by circumstance. That's an explanation and not an excuse—the difference is important to note. But sigh…enough of that…I didn't mean to go into that much. Sorry. I also try to take the point of view of the Council in this chapter for awhile which I quickly discovered to be extremely difficult! I mean, how am I supposed to invent dialogue and thoughts for these beings who are supposedly the most brilliant and insightful beings in the galaxy. I mean, yikes! I get a little into my views on the nature of the Force and please don't read too much into that—I haven't spent a great deal of thought about this and it really just came off the top of my head inspired partially by the discussions we've been having in my philosophy class concerning the essence and existence of God. And, seeing as the Force is not real (at least not in the true Star Wars sense), I am writing about something utterly fictitious that I have no real expertise in. Take it for what you will. It has been one of the more interesting things to write. Thanks again for the reviews. Hope this chapter helps humanize Qui-Gon a little better.
Chapter 12
Although it had been a request, Qui-Gon knew his immediate presence before the Council was hardly optional. One of the teachers had herded Anakin away before Qui-Gon could speak to him, unquestionably purposefully. Qui-Gon had fought too many battles recently, and he knew he faced many more to come, and this hardly seemed like a cause to protest, even though he strongly desire to talk to the boy. After all, what right did he have, especially in light of what he would report to the Council? No, Qui-Gon knew had very few favors left with the wise Council, and it seemed foolish to use them before he needed to.
Briefly, he considered stopping at his quarters, but decided ultimately against it. For one, any reprieve he might find there would be too short lived to help his condition and would be counteracted by the length of the walk there. Besides, unconsciously he longed to avoid the quarters, since they were not his alone, but also the space he shared with Obi-Wan. He did not need another reminder.
He also considered stopping by the healer's wing, but it somehow seemed inappropriate. He had made his choices. His presence would not help Obi-Wan and it certainly would not help himself move beyond this point. Choosing apathy as a defense, he decided to make no effort to speak with Obi-Wan until the young man had fully recovered and Anakin's training had begun. To cling to grief would slowly ruin him—Xanatos' fall showed him that—and what was done with Obi-Wan was done. He could not let it affect Anakin. His indifference was not in cruelty or in a lack of love—because he did care for Obi-Wan, he always would—but rather in a desperate act of self-preservation. When all around you is drowning in a sea of confusion and despair, you quickly realize you only have so much room in your lifeboat. Hand selecting those whom you will save is never easy—it seems barbaric and impossible even—but when faced with the intensity of the situation it is nothing but necessary. To save anyone necessitates a hardening of the heart to some, even those you love. The hardness was Qui-Gon's only means of continuing his existence, and, as the years passed, the hardness would slowly petrify or melt—the two truly led to the same broken end. For the merciless impossibility already solidified in the past—in one moment he had forsaken Obi-Wan. In one brief and utterly wrong instant, he had made the choice. Or maybe it was no exact moment, but a culmination of moments, starting from meeting Anakin on Tatooine. From the first meeting he had been connected to the boy, propelled by the Force and his belief in the prophecy. It had changed him—how could it not? Anakin was the Chosen One, the prophetic balancer of the Force. This truth, which rang with the utmost clarity in his heart, outweighed everything else in his heart, his mind, and in the galaxy. He had lost himself to it without his conscious knowledge. It seemed as though he suddenly found himself enacting some predestined part in a play the Force crafted since the conception of time. Cognizant of his role, he struggled to fulfill it, attempting with all his will to mesh it into the ways and means of the life he already had.
Perhaps that was his greatest folly—his belief that his actions would somehow make or break the prophecy. After all, why should he need to fight for destiny to be unraveled properly—shouldn't destiny, by its very nature, unfold on its own accord by will of only the Force? But these concepts are too abstract, too universal to be ingrained into the mortal conscious. If not for the tragic side-effects of his actions, Qui-Gon attempts to advance the will of the Force might have been noble. But the nobility melted obscurely in the consequences. In his quest to appease the Force, he had sacrificed the essence of what he had been before. So preoccupied with Anakin and the future, he had no means left to maintain that which he was already bound to. Obi-Wan suffered as a result. In grief, reason flees. In desperation, simple truths perish. When faced with the burden of a mistake that overwhelms and conquers the soul, only two options remain to attain absolution—complete surrender or complete abdication. Both options relinquish all control to something greater, but to what is fundamentally different. Complete surrender consisted on the deconstruction of the conscience, stripping a man totally of his ability to move on until absolution can occur. In this, absolution is essential to moving on, without it, one becomes forever stagnant and lost to grief. Abdication seems the less noble of the two, often branded as the heartless path. But this view is too harsh and unfair to the broken heart. When the grief stacks against one so irrevocably, it is not uncommon for survival instincts to kick in. Surrender can bring the most satisfying cleansing and the best healing, but it is the more dangerous. For in surrender, there is always the possibility of being denied the absolution so basically needed. This loss of control daunts even the bravest, often spurring them to think first of themselves. Instead of finding absolution in humility before the wronged, they therefore seek to find it in the passage of time. It required that no amends be made—the wrong is left untreated. Instead, in an act of self-reliance and self-preservation, one moves on. When pulled by his sense of duty to Anakin and to the Force, this clearly was the only real choice Qui-Gon could make in all practicality. He would continue to live and love and learn. And someday—some distant day—he would ask for Obi-Wan's forgiveness, as the wrong would be soften and blurred by the passage of time..
But that was the future, and he could not afford to sacrifice the moment. The walk to the Council chambers passed speedily in his reverie. Finding himself at the door, he stopped, evening his breathing. A quick reflective moment allowed him to compose his thoughts and emotions, and, gathering the Force about him, he requested permission to enter the Council chambers.
Upon entering, the Council members' eyes gazed upon him with an overly indifferent manner. But Qui-Gon knew better than that. For the Masters, acute eyesight was not necessary, for they bored into him with the Force. He could feel them probing his mind, his heart…his soul. And they could already sense the bitter truth he could not hide.
"What is the report?" Mace Windu asked finally. They all knew it—Qui-Gon had no means to disguise it. Yet they would make him say it.
Qui-Gon drew a shaky breath. "The battle was a success. With the alliance formed with the Gungans, the Naboo prevailed, captured the Viceroy and destroyed the mother ship. Peace has come to the planet, as well as a new understanding between its two species."
It was all true but vague. His unforthcoming attitude did not unsettle the Council members. Remaining impassive, Ki-Adi-Mundi said, "We know this much of the mission already. We would like to hear the details. What of the Sith? What of young Anakin Skywalker? What of your unfortunate encounter during your return to Coruscant?"
None of those were topics that Qui-Gon wished to discuss. Somehow, Qui-Gon sensed, the Council always knew the details of the reports he gave before he ever divulged anything. Within seconds of his entry into the room, they had all been surely able to decipher the unseen complications of the mission. Yet, in their infinite wisdom, Qui-Gon noted wryly to himself, the Council believed in a type of confessional. Hearing mission reports did little to benefit them, yet it had a profound impact on the Jedi who stood before them. Verbalization of events and facts required a different level of comprehension and reflection. While he was a Padawan, the Council had intimidated him initially. Standing in their presence made him nervous, whether or not he had anything at all to say. Then, as a young Knight, he had grown to have an air of calm when surrounded by them, eagerly embracing their words and their wisdom. But there was more than words to the Council's methods, he quickly realized. After his first thorough failure of a mission, he had returned to the Temple disillusioned and distraught. Instead of peace, he had left war. Upon entering the Council room, he had been unable to meet the Masters eyes. News of the situation had spread across the galaxy, and Qui-Gon had no doubt that the Council already knew what he would report. But, with gentle insistence, they forced him to relate every detail. When he was finished, his heart beat raggedly in defeat, but his soul felt absolved. In review of the events, Qui-Gon realized he had done his duty completely. He could not bear the blame for a war that sprung out of years of hatred. Finally meeting Master Yoda's eyes, he had seen empathy and understanding—the little old troll had known all along. Ever since then, Qui-Gon had not faced the Council apprehensively, but honestly. Until today. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon began again, "While trying to retake the Palace, we encountered the Sith—the same being that attack us on Tatooine. The Queen and her party escaped toward the Throne Room and the pilots had taken off to engage the battle in space. Obi-Wan and I then began our fight with the Sith.
"The Sith was powerful, more so than I had anticipated. But I was confident that with both Obi-Wan and I fighting together, we could defeat him. However, we were separated, and when I faced the Sith on my own, I was severely injured."
His voice was uneven, his throat tight. He continued on anyway, calling upon the Force for strength. "Obi-Wan then engaged the Sith alone. For awhile he was fueled by the Dark side, and when he finally caught himself, the Sith took advantage of the situation and gained the upper hand. I still am unsure how Obi-Wan managed to regain himself, but he did. He defeated the Sith. He then proceeded to save my life at the risk of his own health. We were both found some time later by the royal guards and taken to the healer's wing. I was immersed in bacta and recovered as expediently as my wounds allowed. Obi-Wan was stuck in a deep coma until I was well enough to help him out of it."
The Council nodded along with his account, as if they had expected or already known these details. "Can you explain to us what happened when you left Naboo?" Adi Gallia prompted.
The only way to control the overwhelming emotions was to numb them, which he continued to do in desperation. He spoke now in an uncontrolled timber, his mouth unsure of what words the mind had placed in it. "Upon our recovery, Obi-Wan and I gathered Anakin and began to return to Coruscant. We hadn't made it very far when we were attacked by a Trade Federation vessel. They disabled our engines and began boarding. Obi-Wan fixed the engines, and then stayed to hold the droids from reaching the cockpit where Anakin worked to get the ship into hyperspace."
"You trusted a young boy to make the jump to hyperspace?" Ki-Adi asked.
"Yes. Anakin has proven to be a more than competent pilot, and his actions were nothing short of heroic during the Battle of Naboo," Qui-Gon explained. He didn't admit to the bond and the sense of confidence he gained in knowing the boy's heart and mind. Not yet. Not just yet. The Council members appeared satisfied by the explanation and allowed him to continue. "Anakin made the jump to hyperspace and within seconds we were out of range and the remaining droids were rendered inactive. Obi-Wan had managed to destroy most of them already. However in the process he was…"
"This is how he was wounded," Mace assumed.
The grief and sorrow flooded him anew, too strongly to thwart. "Yes," he said, his voice grating and raw against his throat. Everyone had praised Anakin's heroics, but could he now deny Obi-Wan's? But his denial didn't matter, nor did his acceptance. He had rejected Obi-Wan, and that was something he could never fix.
"Did you think he was able to handle that many droids?" Plo Koon asked.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. He could still feel the impassive, unbending, merciful and yet merciless stares upon his frame. "I did not think of it at all," he finally said.
"You did not think of your own Padawan's well being?" Mace asked, knowing what answer Qui-Gon would be forced to give.
He would finally have to admit it to them. His respect for them was deep and their approval was paramount to the veracity of Anakin's future. He tried to retract that last thought, thinking how cruelly ironic it was to the young man in the healer's wing. "I was already forming the Master/Padawan bond with Anakin. By the time Obi-Wan was injured, our bond was broken."
"On both ends?" Ki-Adi questioned, not to be unkind, but to have the truth be known to everyone, including Qui-Gon.
"No." Qui-Gon's voice was nearly inaudible. To break the Master/Padawan bond was the ultimate betrayal of trust. Qui-Gon himself had felt his loss when his first apprentice had turned. And now he had inflicted it—with its years of heartbreak and sorrow and solitude—onto the young man who had loved him most.
"Breaking the bond between the Master and Apprentice is a serious issue," Mace said. "It is not permitted by the Code unless one has already been betrayed. Did Obi-Wan betray you?"
"No. He was faithful to the end."
His words echoed painfully in the silence that followed. "Great pain, you have inflicted," Yoda finally spoke, having remained uncharacteristically silent. His voice was grave, not laced with its usual mystery. "Great pain, you have caused. Remorse, you feel?"
"Of course," Qui-Gon replied.
"Weak comfort remorse will be for the lost Padawan," Yoda admonished. His rebuke was sharp and unyielding to Qui-Gon's turmoil. "A crime against the Code, this is. But more importantly, a crime against Obi-Wan Kenobi, this is. How do you defend yourself?"
Qui-Gon clenched his jaw tightly. "The bond I have formed with Anakin started without warning and without my knowledge. The connection between us was stronger than anything else. It was stronger than anything I could fight. The Force brought us together, and I cannot fight the Force."
"Such a bond, the Light does not encourage." The subtlety was not lost on Qui-Gon.
"Anakin is the Chosen One," he stated, his voice regaining some of its strength. "His connection with the Force is deeper and more natural than any other being we have encountered."
"Request approval for his training, do you?" Yoda croaked, looking dispassionately into Qui-Gon's eyes.
"Yes."
"And what do you wish for your old Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"
The comment made Qui-Gon's breath catch in his throat.
"Without a Master, become a Knight, he cannot."
"Obi-Wan has proven himself…he has defeated the Sith."
"You have said yourself that he still has much to learn of the Living Force," Mace pointed out. "You also admit that he nearly gave in to the Dark side during his battle with the Sith."
"He controlled his anger and fear in the end," Qui-Gon argued. "He has proven himself able to resist it. Nearly any Jedi would be tempted by it. And he has also proven that he is capable of utilizing the Living Force. He will further perfect these skills in time. He should be granted permission to undergo the Trials."
"Under whose tutelage?" Ki-Adi wondered.
"Only one chance, he had," Yoda said simply. "And broke it, you did."
His eyes squeezed shut, Qui-Gon's heart dropped into his stomach. It had not occurred to him that Obi-Wan would fall short of Knighthood by the loss of the bond. "Do no punish Obi-Wan for my choices," he whispered.
"We will have to discuss this matter in more depth," Mace said. "We all need to meditate on what has transpired. Especially you, Qui-Gon."
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and meekly nodded. "I request permission to go off planet for a few days. I need to meditate away from everything here. I cannot truly focus if surrounded by so many distractions."
They all knew his unsaid words. He needed to be away from Anakin. The bond was too strong and too new to be ignored through even deep meditation. "Agree with you, we do," Yoda said. "Leave, you must. Meditate, you must. Understand the consequences of your actions, you must."
He had been reprimanded before. He had broken the rules before. But the error was much more severe, much more costly, and the ramifications perhaps more tragic than he had first realized. Nodding humbly, he exited the room, hoping to find redemption somewhere in the meditations that awaited him.
***
The interview with Qui-Gon resonated despondently in the silence of the Council room. For a moment, they all sat in silence, focusing their thoughts in brief meditations, drawing on the Force and their intuitive abilities. The Force, so thick and eminent within the chamber, reverberated off the walls in a symphony of reason and emotion. Each member added their own tune to the whole, but instead of blending together haphazardly, they mixed somewhat inexplicably in harmony. Just as most people without being well versed in music fail to appreciate the magnificence of an orchestra, so it was that those who lacked sensitivity and understanding of the Force could not acknowledge the splendor of the Force between these Jedi Masters.
And, like each instrument of an orchestra, each Master on the Council added their own distinct flare to the union of the Force. Except, for the Council, there was no conductor, unless the abstract sense of the Force on a whole. Intuitively, each member simply knew when to speak, like unwritten cues for their complex opus.
To break the discussion open, Mace Windu, his dark head raised gravely, began with a foundational statement. "The situation is immensely and unpredictably complex."
Murmurs of agreement rippled across the room. "The implications are not just for Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin, not even just for the Jedi anymore, but rather the galaxy," Depa Billaba noted.
"The Jedi Order is designed to protect and preserve the Republic," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "This has always been our primary function and goal, and it is still worthy after all this time. However, we cannot fail to realize that for our services to be effective, the Order must be invariably in order itself. For if we are lacking, we cannot provide adequately. Our shortcomings as an Order are caused by the shortcomings of individuals. Therein lays the necessity to care for and instruct our own. We cannot address the issues of the galaxy without address the issues within the Order. And we cannot quell the debates within the Order until we manage the trials of each individual."
"There are three individuals," Adi Gallia said. "Now completely interconnect by circumstance."
"Circumstance is the way the Force works in the galaxy," Windu reminded them. "It is true that the Force has brought them together—Qui-Gon is valid in that assertion."
"We are getting dangerously close to the question of the goodness of the Force," Plo Koon interjected. "Can the Force will pain and suffering?"
"The Force can aid it," Gallia said.
"We are truly debating two points here," Windu pointed out. "We are discussing the essence of the Force and the existence of the Force. The Force, in its essence, must be ultimately good, or we would have no means with which to trust it. We believe it moves us and works us into the places and situations we need to be. But the existence of the Force—that is different. Its existence is like a raw energy—an energy that is not readily seen, but when access can be used for good and evil. It supplies the galaxy with the power to move and live as they please. Those who live for good, convert the energy positively. Those who live evilly convert the energy negatively. The darkness knows no limitations, therefore can excel over goodness. It has done so for centuries. The current state of the Republic is not an accident—the Dark side of the Force is growing, more so when another person chooses to kill instead of save, to hate instead of love."
"Brought Anakin to Qui-Gon, the Force did," Yoda said. "But caused the destruction of the bond between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, the Force did not. Served the Light side, this has not. However, change it, we cannot."
"So what do we do?" another member asked for the sake of contemplation.
"Obi-Wan has done no wrong," Billaba said. "He has proven himself worthy to be a Jedi Knight."
"But only the master can prepare a Padawan for the Trials," Koon said.
"Perhaps he has already undergone his Trials," Gallia suggested. "He has been faced with the Dark side. He did prevail. There is hardly a test we could impose that would even come close to equating to the battle with the Sith."
"But what of his mental state?" another asked. "We need to understand his reaction to the broken bond. Such a betrayal can be devastating."
"It is against the Code," Windu agreed. "So do we punish the master?"
"Punishment is not the way of the Jedi," Billaba said. "Simply justice."
"What is just in this case?" Koon asked. "Qui-Gon has betrayed his promise to his Padawan. This is forbidden. It would follow that he be expelled from the Order."
"Expulsion is extreme," Windu argued. "We have all fallen short of the perfection of the Force. No mistake, in terms of the Force, is better or worse. This situation may have already cost us one Jedi, do we truly want to expel another?"
"Guilt, he has admitted," Yoda said. "Admission, heals not the victim, but changes the accused."
"If Qui-Gon Jinn does remain a Jedi, should we grant him permission to train Anakin Skywalker?" Mundi asked.
"There is much mystery in the boy," Billaba commented.
"Not all mystery leads to evil," Koon continued.
"He is too old," Windu reiterated. "His training will not be as ingrained as it should be, no matter how sensitive he is to the Force."
"His control over his emotions will never be complete," Mundi added.
"The Force is not bound by our rules," Gallia said. "It works through everything, regardless of our stipulations. We have always known that we add mortal confinements to the Force. They are necessary and good, no one disputes that, but the Code allows room for the Force to lead."
"Is he the Chosen One?" Windu finally asked the pivotal question.
"He fulfills the requirements," Billaba said softly. "His midichlorian count exceeds anything we've ever seen before. As it is written, 'From a life of bondage, he will find freedom and prosperity.' He did win the podrace which not only gained him his freedom but safe passage for the Queen and her party to leave Tatooine. It is also written that he will "rise up from the blowing sands as a hope in a sea of desolation." This too is fulfilled by his home on Tatooine. And he was conceived immaculately."
"According to his mother," Mundi countered. "We have nothing but second hand information to verify that."
"And although he did win the podrace which won him his freedom, it was not by his own scheme. Jinn arranged for his freedom," Koon pointed out. "Are we bending the prophecy to fit him or viewing it plainly?"
"Much easier is it to speak prophecy," Yoda said. "Much harder it is to see it when it is realized."
"There are simply too many coincidences to merely ignore," Windu said.
"Too much value, we place on prophecy," Yoda told them with a shake of his head. "More focus should we have on our choices. Free will, do we not have?"
"Of course, Master Yoda," Billaba said. "But does his status not change if he is the Chosen One?"
"Meditate on that question, each of us must."
"Master Yoda is correct," Windu agreed. "I suggest we recess until tomorrow. We should spent the night in meditation, trying to discern the truth and the right course of action concerning Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and young Anakin Skywalker. Tomorrow, we will discuss this matter further. By the time Jinn returns from his meditation, we should be ready to hand down our decisions."
"How is Kenobi healing?" Gallia asked.
"He was submersed in bacta shortly before this meeting convened," Mundi reported. "Healer Truek said he expected Obi-Wan to be out of the bacta sometime tomorrow."
"We must talk to him as well," another said. "His mental state needs to be address before his future can be decided."
"Agreed," Windu said. "Master Mundi, would you care to keep apprised of Kenobi's condition?"
"Of course," Mundi said. "When he awakens, I will have Healer Truek contact me, and then I will discuss these unfortunate events with him."
"One of us needs to spend time with Anakin Skywalker," Billaba said.
"This responsibility, I will take," Yoda said.
"Very good," Windu said. "We will meet again tomorrow morning."
With nods of agreement, each member stood, gathering their thoughts before dispersing in silence to their respective quarters. It would be a long night of meditation and a long few days of deliberation. The matter was serious, not only for the three individuals involved, but, they could sense discreetly, for the fate of the entire galaxy.