Disclaimer: We don't own Star Wars.

Full summary: Sequel to Sooner or Later. At last Anakin has a proper Master one he loves and trusts, QuiGon Jinn. In the midst of their complicated romance, they're put to their first test as a team when there's a sudden slew of attacks on the Temple. QuiAni

Warnings: Slash, future shota, JA reference.

Pairing(s): Eventual Qui-GonxAnakin (subdued GarenxObi)

Fic type: AU, romance

Bizarre speaks: Well, I finally did it. I finally, actually, forgot to update. Sorry about that children. We're almost to the end of Volume TWO. Oh noes. And with yesterdays little spaz out all the hits are gone. We have to start back at the beginning. Meaning? Plug my story shamelessy? Please?

Chosen
Volume Two
The Heir
Chapter VI: Rehabilitation

Personal journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi-Knight of the Jedi Order:

02/24/04-24 BBY-10:00

Coruscant, the Jedi Temple

Master Yoda asked that I take a Padawan learner. I told him no. He just stared at me impassively. I wanted to yell, to strike his little green face and tell him never!

I will never take an apprentice. I am not putting some kid through that kind of pain. Always trying to please a cold dispassionate Master. Am I just as cold and unreachable as any of them, as that damned stupid rock Qui-Gon gave me? I hope Anakin threw it at him.

I am not bitter, not really. But my heart is cold and hardened. I couldn't give to a Padawan. Hell, I can't even give my heart to Garen, my best friend. And he has stood by me, all this time, too. I guess it's right to offer him my body.

When he arrived at the hospital Qui-Gon found Anakin being well tended to. The Healer was grim. Ani had yet to stop coughing. The Jedi Mistress was trying to fix that. Qui-Gon came to stand beside Anakin's bed, watching the Healer patiently, not wishing to interrupt. Once Anakin calmed some she hooked up an oxygen feed.

"He'll live," she told Qui-Gon bluntly. "But, don't expect him to be up to par for a while."

"Thank you, Mistress," Qui-Gon bowed. He turned a bemused look on Anakin. The recuperation period would not be fun.

Anakin reached up to wipe some sweat from his forehead. "Did you get him, Master?" The apprentice was annoyed at having been taken out of the fight so quickly, embarrassed for abandoning his Master.

"Yes," Qui-Gon replied. "The Council has him in a holding cell."

The Padawan tugged at his Master's hand. Qui-Gon sat down on the edge of the bed. "And you, you alright, Master?"

"I am fine," Qui-Gon smiled patting Ani's hand gently.

"Not hurt or anything?" It was amazing. He'd been poisoned and the only thing on his mind was whether his Master was hurt. Such is the way of the Jedi.

"Don't worry, Padawan," Qui-Gon soothed. " I can take care of myself."

"I know," the kid sighed. Then making a risky move he kissed Qui-Gon's knuckles briefly. "But, I was worried." He made a valiant effort to sit up. His stomach muscles were cramped up from all the coughing. "I can't help worrying about you." He whispered.

"Rest," the Master instructed, pushing Ani down gently.

"I hate bed rest," the boy complained, though he didn't fight the urging. It seemed to be Qui-Gon's solution every time he got sick. It was good inspiration to stay healthy.

"Rest and it will soon be over," Master Jinn assured him with a smile.

"Stay and keep me company, Master," the Padawan teased.

"For a while," the old man agreed. Then he would make sure the Sith, Shaden, was properly contained.

"Mmm…thank you," Ani coughed again, his already stiff muscles protesting.

When Anakin eventually fell asleep Qui-Gon went to check with the Council. To make sure all was on track. He arrived in the middle of Shaden Cormin's trial. The Council had assembled swiftly, deeming this worthy of immediate attention.

The youthful Sith lord was not cooperative, though. Shaden merely took their questioning in silence, idly fingering his bound wrists.

The Council admitted Qui-Gon eagerly. The questioning was getting nowhere. A new perspective wouldn't hurt.

"I believe, Shaden, it would be in your best interest to answer freely," Qui-Gon told the boy quietly.

Amused golden eyes flitted to the big Jedi. "Why would I help my enemies, Master Jinn," the Sith wondered, his tone perfectly polite.

"To spare yourself some trouble," the tall Jedi straightened up. "Your mission here was not completely successful, was it?" he met Shaden's gaze mildly. "Will your Master be pleased?"

"Obviously not," the defense snorted, "But, we really won't know how successful I was, till the biotoxin runs its course, will we? Will your apprentice be added to the list of casualties?"

"This is not about my apprentice," Qui-Gon shrugged. "This is about you. You can tell us who your Master is and we will show you mercy; or, you can refuse. I dare say that is an unpleasant option," his brows knit slowly. "You have committed a great affront to the Temple and the Jedi Order. You will not go unpunished."

The Sith looked like he was about to laugh. "Master Jinn," Shaden chuckled. "Don't be a fool. This has everything to do with your apprentice. My Master wants revenge for my predecessor. He will take what you hold most dear and make you suffer." He laughed louder, sharper. "My demise makes no difference to him. If you don't kill me he will eventually. Do not underestimate the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

Qui-Gon gave the excited boy a wry smile. Shaden wasn't going to tell them anything.

"It is against our Code to execute a captive prisoner," he glanced at Master Yoda. They conversed silently for a moment and Qui-Gon received permission to conclude. "But, neither can we allow you to return to your Master. Rehabilitation is our only option." He looked to the Council members for affirmation. One by one they reluctantly nodded.

Snickering, Shaden closed his eyes. His giggling slowly grew louder and louder until it was hard to tell if he hysterical or not.

"The Pyramid sees all!" he suddenly informed Qui-Gon, opening his eyes again. They flashed dangerously. "Darth Sidious will never give up, he will not lose! Sith never give up!" Aided by a powerful jolt from the Force he tugged mightily at his bindings. They fell to the ground, smoking. "I never give up." A black lightsaber slid down his sleeve and into his hands. "My Master saved me. If I am going to die it will be by his hand alone. Not yours."

While he spoke every Jedi but Yoda had drawn. The Sith had no idea what he was doing. All ways were blocked. He couldn't fight the entire Council. He had to try something…

With a flick of the other sleeve, he tossed a grenade toward the nearest window, warded by the blue-eyed Adi Gallia.

She managed to dodge the missile but her movement gave Shaden room to flee. He jumped for the gap. He hadn't counted on Mace Windu, though. The Jedi tackled him around the waist. They fell to the floor wrestling for position. The bigger Windu quickly got the upper hand, pinning the squirming Sith boy.

"Rehabilitation is going to be difficult," Adi commented irritably. "But, I think our Soul Healers will rise to the challenge."

Master Windu, Adi and Qui-Gon Jinn escorted the Sith personally. He was not going to escape them. Mace kept a vice grip on the kid. Shaden still managed a kick or two, which annoyed Windu.

"You Jedi are cruel," the captive informed them, still twisting and squirming. "At least we Sith have the courtesy to kill our victims. You are going to steal my life and hide behind your Code."

"I promise you," Adi murmured, "Once your rehabilitation has begun, none of that will matter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Shaden asked nervously.

No one would answer him. They just marched on through the darkened halls, entering a seldom-used wing of the Temple. Not many Jedi who turned to the Dark Side survived to be brought here.

A tall thin woman, with long blonde hair, approached them. She blinked all three of her large blue eyes while regarding the situation.

"Masters," she bowed.

"Mistress Aspic," the Jedi chimed reverently.

"This is Shaden Cormin, Mistress," Qui-Gon propelled the boy closer to the towering alien. "His rehabilitation may be a bit…intense."

"Intense?"

"Yes, Mistress," Master Jinn explained further. "Shaden is Sith."

"I see," Aspic gestured to one side and a syringe flew to her. "Fear not, little dark lord," she tried to smile gently, "I will take care of you." She reached for him with the needle, all the while cooing. "I am Mistress Malora Aspic, Shaden. I will take very good care of you." Her voice was melodious, hypnotic. The sudden sharp pain of the drug filled syringe was like the pluck of a harp at the end of her song.
Next...Epilogue