Part 2
At any rate, they had tried to.
A week earlier, they had returned to Coruscant after what had, in both their opinions, been an irritating mission at best, complicated by exhaustion. Several warring factions on Nelth V, to which freezing planet they had been sent, served to break down negotiations - resulting in a whole-sale riot which the Jedi Master, in a rare fit of irritation, had described as a 'no holds-barred brawl - and one in which our younglings would have conducted themselves better.'
Obi-Wan had not felt so charitable. A gash in his side caused during said 'brawl' had not made things any better - he had to admit that it might have been worse, if Qui-Gon had not despatched his attacker in short order. As it was, the injury had been serious enough to force him to spend the hours travelling back home in a healing trance. Returning to the city-planet invoked mixed feelings in him - he was glad to step inside the Temple, which had a calming influence on him - but had he been given a choice to spend a week in meditation, or a day at the healers - he would have taken the first choice without a murmur.
Events, however, had proceeded fairly smoothly. Qui-Gon left to meet the Council, having assured himself that Obi-Wan received medical treatment - fortunately, the latter's presence had not been insisted upon. The apprentice had submitted, after extracting a promise from Healer Han'yaie that a ward would not be named after him.
Reports, meetings and de-briefings followed, and a day later, the council had pronounced itself satisfied with the proceedings - excepting the riot. It was the tentative opinion of one or two honoured members that this could have been avoided. Fortunately, Master Windu and Yoda put their foot and claws down for once, claiming that all had been done that could have been done, and if the citizens of Nelth V derived amusement from butchering themselves against all reason - it was cold enough for that - then so be it.
And Qui-Gon had left, filled with relief that the demands of protocol had been satisfied.
The master's thoughts had then returned to his apprentice as he watched over Obi-Wan, recovering from the after-effects of Nelth V. Two days later Obi-Wan returned to normal - he seemed to have recovered his appetite, at any rate - and the master decided that they would proceed with their lawful pursuits. As far as possible.
Their day had begun ordinarily - considering both master's and apprentice's reputation for seemingly normal situations turning awry. Qui-Gon had risen at his usual unearthly hour, and had succeeded in rousing his drowsy apprentice - he had simply Force-rolled the young man out of bed, sheets floating in mid-air.
Obi-Wan briefly considered a show of in-subordination - but decided against it. Irritation was extremely un-Jedi-like...and might, possibly, result in hours of meditation on his wrong-doings. And meditation, he decided, was the last thing he wanted to do. Sleep, now, he mused. That wouldn't be too bad.
"Obi-Wan," came the call of his master's voice from the kitchen. "I'm not going to allow you to take up permanent residence within your sleeping quarters, so you may as well step out."
Obi-Wan stifled a yawn and dragged his unco-operative legs into the refresher.
Qui-Gon walked out from the kitchen, in time to see his apprentice vanish through the doorway, sleep-robe trailing along the floor. Smiling, he set out the dishes on the tiny, space saving table in the common living area.
I wonder if he's ready for it, he mused. I was, when I first encountered it...but then, I was considerably older. Old enough to concede defeat. I wonder if-
His ponderings came to an abrupt end as Obi-Wan walked into the living area, fully dressed. "I'm ready, Master." He turned his attention to the braid falling to his chest, intent on adjusting it.
Qui-Gon paused in the midst of re-arranging the plates, looking at him. An incident had chosen to unfold within his mind...
Delra Ti.
A not-so-popular little planet, tucked away in a corner of the Decura Sector. The Temple had sent them both to pick up a contact - why he had chosen such a place to be picked up had not been revealed to them. Ambush had occurred as they were hurrying all a narrow cliff-path towards their ship, waiting on a broader ledge - within a second, master and apprentice conferred among themselves, reaching a decision. Obi-Wan would hold the attackers at bay, while Qui-Gon rushed the shivering 'contact' to safety.
There were ten in all - ten brawny yellow-brown beings, brandishing weapons in both hands - aided by a horn on their foreheads - a peculiar part of their anatomy, of which they seemed inordinately proud. It had its uses, certainly, as Obi-Wan found out. Keeping twenty odd weapons and ten horns from making contact with his body did not exactly fall within the bounds of a sparring exercise. Still...
Qui-Gon watched the battle out of the corner of his eye, as he helped their contact within the ship. As soon as he was certain that the humanoid was safe, he ran out, his light sabre activated.
Obi-Wan had managed to route out four of their attackers, and Qui-Gon joined him in pushing their way through four more. Each found themselves engaged in fighting the last two - who seemed to possess a single-mindedness worthy of a Jedi, as far as battle went. Neither would yield ground, and the master saw his apprentice tiring. Obi-Wan sported two or three impressive injuries on his arms and one on his forehead - it was time to end this.
The master swung his blade neatly in an arc through the air, and as expected, the Delran threw his own battle-axe to counter the blow. A swift kick in the abdomen brought him to his knees, and the light sabre crashed down, neatly cleaving the axe in two.
Nine down. One to go. Unless Obi-Wan had finished him-
He had not.
Qui-Gon swung around to see Obi-Wan fall back at a mighty swing of the Delran Battle-axe, and clutch the craggy mountain-face for support. Quelling a brief spurt of unease, the master launched himself against the last Delran warrior.
To the left. Slash. Block. Left again. Advance. Block. Regain stance and...
Strike.
There. It was done. Not dead, but that hand would never raise a battle-ax again. He drew a deep breath, suddenly feeling weak as the moment passed. Now for Obi-Wan. Stumbling a little - his ankle had twisted itself, he remembered vaguely, and there was blood soaking his tunic from a gash in his arm - he took a step towards the cliff-face.
"Padawan, are you alright?" he tried to reach his apprentice through the Force, assessing his injuries. "What-"
He was tired, and he hadn't been careful. He had been worried about Obi-Wan - and that was probably why he hadn't sensed the last Delran stagger to his feet, raising his battle-axe...
...with his left hand.
Oh, how stupid - especially for a Jedi Master, he remembered thinking idly, as he watched the enemy swing his weapon into the air. He was too close.
Too near, yet too far, Obi-Wan.
His arms felt like lead. Cannot raise my sabre. Wonder why. Oh yes, blood-loss.
I wonder if it's too painful...
There was an other-wordly shriek from somewhere behind him - to his right. Something streaked past him in a whirl of brown and tan. He blinked.
Obi-Wan?
The whirling dervish resolved into a young man -a young man who suddenly materialised in front of the Delran. His sapphire sabre rose to meet the Delran axe - swished into the air, leaving a trail of blue - cut into the weapon - as well as the Delran himself.
The battle ax clattered to the ground in five pieces. The Delran looked down on himself, surprised at the blood that had suddenly appeared on his stomach. Mouth agape, he fell into a crumpled heap.
Qui-gon fell to his knees, considerably weakened. -Obi-Wan...-
The young man twirled around on his heels, his robe fluttering behind him in a graceful arc, his boots scrunching on the earthen floor. His right hand was well away from his body, still holding the activated light-sabre, the blue colour enhancing glittering blue-green eyes. The setting sun of Delra Ti fell beneath the horizon, sending soft, golden rays over the cliff-path, lending an aura of pure light to his form for a brief moment.
An angel of light, Qui-gon thought inconsequentially. Now I know what they look like.
And then there was nothing.
"Master?" Obi-Wan was waving his hands in front of Qui-Gon's face, chuckling. "Coruscant to Master Jinn, who seems to have lost his bearings..."
Qui-Gon snapped back to the present, heaving a deep breath.
"Focus, master," intoned his padawan. "The here and now. It is only the present that matters..."
Qui-Gon smiled, swatting a napkin at the chuckling apprentice.
What have I been thinking? Of course the boy is ready.
