Chapter 8

Sweat trickled down Obi-Wan's right temple. Another afternoon of saber practice, and mentor and student were well into the lesson. He and Qui-Gon were taking a short break. Taking a deep breath, he happened to glance up into the long gallery running the side of this particular practice hall. The public was welcome to view practice sessions. It was a gesture of good will from the Jedi to the populace of Coruscant, and to the people they served. It was also understood that it was not there as an ego-builder or to cause inattentiveness. Normally during the day there were a few observers scattered in the seats. Today Obi-Wan's eyes stopped on a familiar-looking figure. The small woman was wrapped in a pale cloak and hood but there was no mistaking who it was. It was not the first time he'd seen Valia Traxis up there. Her gray eyes widened slightly and her body seemed to stiffen as she saw him looking at her. He tried not to glare, and turned away quickly. Qui-Gon had not once looked in the direction of the gallery.

"Your fruit lady friend is here." Obi-Wan spoke softly, not looking directly at his master.

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he turned to study his student. He'd caught the sardonic tone in his voice. It was not like Obi-Wan. She could be your friend as well, he thought. Obi-Wan glanced at him, and looked away again.

"Yes, I was aware of Valia quite some time ago." Qui-Gon casually mopped his sweating forehead.

Obi-Wan couldn't resist another glance up at her. He gestured toward her with his head. "Why is she here? Why is she watching us? She's watching you, isn't she, Master? She is going to be a distraction!"

Qui-Gon experienced a spurt of dismay at his student's outburst. Obi-Wan's voice had carried to several nearby Jedi students. He sighed. The observation was unfortunately too close to the truth. Qui-Gon's ulterior motive for inviting Valia to the observation gallery was to test himself to see if he could practice and teach without being affected by her. He could, but it took effort to completely ignore her. A vague sorrow at having to do so lingered each time. Now Obi-Wan's opinion of her presence had lately become all too plain. The sullen looks, the bold questioning of where he was going every time he left the temple and where he had been when he returned, and the growing bad attitude in his student were becoming intolerable. As if he didn't have enough to do battling himself. He relaxed his jaws, unclenching his teeth, letting go of his anger. It was time to teach his padawan lesson or two in concentration and end this impudence.

"Have you practiced that back-hand parry we were working on last week?"

"A little, but I didn't--"

"Then we'll do more right now." Qui-Gon flung down the towel and picked up the training saber he had been using today. They were using the low-powered sabers less and less in their workouts, graduating to the real weapons. These would burn if the blade struck, but would not kill like the ones they usually carried. Obi-Wan moved quickly to pick up his own weapon. A tingle of warning went through him as he warily faced his master. There was now something dangerous flickering in Qui-Gon's eyes. Obi-Wan swallowed hard and assumed a ready stance. Then Qui-Gon lunged at him, forcing him to immediately defend himself using a backhanded thrust. Having barely deflected that, he was forced to counter another and yet another lightning swing. Other blows were interspersed with the attacks meant to force him into using and strengthening the move he was not skilled in.

Qui-Gon's blade was a blur, his hair flying, his booted feet barely touching the floor. A sheen of sweat appeared on his bare chest and shoulders. Several younger practicing students stopped what they were doing to watch. The harsh buzzing song of swinging sabers echoed in the room. The blades cracked and sparked against each other.

Obi-Wan performed a completely unnecessary backflip to narrowly escape the scorching heat of a swing to his waist. This was the exact kind of flashy move Qui-Gon had expected him to do in the presence of a rapt audience, and something he had been trying to train out of him. Qui-Gon was in his face the instant he landed, driving him across the floor. Obi-Wan gathered himself to rise to this challenge, and began to move from the defensive position to an offensive one. He called upon the Force and the suppleness of his arms and swung at Qui-Gon with renewed strength. Now it was Obi-Wan driving his master across the wide floor, using his body to snap speed into every swing. He felt the exhilarating fire of his youth and ability. Qui-Gon retreated, still forcing his student into a backhanded defense every chance he could.

Obi-Wan stretched out his blade and managed to achieve a light graze across Qui-Gon's ribcage. He noted the red welt that appeared a minute after his score. He savored a second of satisfaction. He'd get to show Miss Traxis exactly what he was made of today.

Qui-Gon was now anchoring the duel in place. He was concentrating intently on his student's performance. Then he saw the opening he had been waiting for and snaked out his arm. The next thing Obi-Wan saw was the opposite wall of the one he'd been facing, and it was strangely upside down. He was twisted in mid-air and landed heavily on his backside. His left arm flopped down, released from Qui-Gon's iron grip. His weapon clattered to the floor, spinning away. Stunned, he felt prickly heat on the back of his neck. He did not need to turn around to know his master stood behind him, the tip of his saber pointed at the base of his skull. Had this been a mortal enemy, he would have long been dispatched quickly and efficiently execution style. Swallowing his humiliation he sat on the floor a few seconds more, and then turned to face his tall teacher. Qui-Gon's face and body visibly relaxed. He released his battle tension with several slow, deep breaths. But a stern ire still shone in his eyes.

"A distraction for who, my Padawan?"

Obi-Wan dropped his eyes with creeping shame. He could not deny to himself or to his master that he'd been bent on impressing Lia. But surely Qui-Gon must know he wasn't doing it out of an interest of his own in her. He had just gotten a little cocky. Come to think of it, he'd been more than a little cocky lately. He knew a sudden shame for the way he'd been behaving toward Qui-Gon. His master was teaching him a lesson, a valuable one that could some day save his life.

"What is the lesson here, Obi-Wan?" came the soft question.

Still sitting on the floor and staring down at the very hard surface of it, Obi-Wan tried to think of a suitable answer. "Don't lose focus on the task at hand. Don't be distracted by...surroundings."

"Anything else?"

Obi-Wan sighed. "Don't show off. And don't ever, ever forget where your non-saber hand is."

Qui-Gon's expression softened. "That would about cover it." He flicked off the saber and extended a hand to help Obi-Wan off the floor. Trying not to wince from pain, Obi-Wan gripped Qui-Gon's forearm and stood. He felt his composure returning. He deliberately turned his back on the viewing gallery. Not even now did Qui-Gon acknowledge its existence or who sat in it. He studied the opposite wall. "It seems I've heard nothing but impertinence from you lately," he said softly. "It does not become you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan stared at the wall too. "I'm sorry for my disrespect, Master." Qui-Gon turned to bore holes with his gaze into his student. This disrespect will end now. Show any for her and I will most certainly toss you on your butt again, the look said.

"Some of your questions do not deserve an answer." Such as the ones regarding how thirsty he was. "Others...I have none to give you because I just don't know the answer." He was referring to Obi-Wan's outburst of a few minutes ago. And the unspoken questions that hovered every time they were around Lia. "I am trusting that this... fascination I have with Valia will be resolved in time. I ask you to do the same, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon was smiling, but Obi-Wan saw the weariness of an inner struggle in his eyes. He felt a surge of worried affection for him. He nodded, knowing this situation was far from over. He knew if Qui-Gon wanted anything to do with this woman there would be no stopping him. He may not like it, but he decided to do his best to trust his master as he'd done for the last five years and be patient.

He also knew he was going to have an incredibly bruised ass tomorrow unless he visited the healers later. Hopefully without having to do much explaining. He couldn't resist one more question. "Can you show me how you did that?"