Chapter 42: Too Late

Qui-Gon stared. From Obi-Wan's prone form on the floor to his hand. It was all he looked at it.

At first, the feeling was righteous. When he struck Obi-Wan and silenced his vile words, he felt powerful. The Force grew stronger within him, almost the feeling of invincibility.

Then, he looked passed his hand and saw Obi-Wan. His young apprentice laid on the floor, motionless. A blotch of red, blue, purple smeared on the side of his face, spreading from where he struck on his cheek to the rest of his face. There was no counter-attack or block. He fell crudely on the floor, banging his head against a part of the chair before landing helplessly on the floor. And when Qui-Gon took all of that in, the rush of power depleted instantly and was refilled with momentous regret.

Obi-Wan was alive. That much he sensed through their bond, but injured. By Qui-Gon's own hand. Qui-Gon inhaled deeply as he squatted beside Obi-Wan. He touched Obi-Wan's bruise to get a better assessment of the injuries. Severe bruising, dislocated jaw and a small wound from where his head hit the chair. Blood droplets speckled around his head, warning Qui-Gon that immediate medic attention was needed.

Unfortunately, his ability to heal hadn't worked accurately in years. He was too afraid to try again on Obi-Wan, so he paged for a medic team to come. He stayed with Obi-Wan, keeping tabs on his vitals to ensure he didn't… never mind.

The medic team arrived and handled Obi-Wan with care. Qui-Gon ordered reports to be directly to him and be updated on his condition every hour. The medic droid in charge beeped in agreement and shipped Obi-Wan away to the healing wards.

Once Obi-Wan was handled, Qui-Gon sought Dooku, finding him in his study looking over a spread of documents. When Qui-Gon walked in, Dooku peered up from a holopad. He huffed a sigh and went back to his work. "What is it this time, Qui-Gon?"

"I hit him."

Dooku lowered his holopad. "Who?"

"You know who," Qui-Gon tersely responded. He moved to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a fine brandy from Corellia. He took a long drink.

Dooku understood and moved the holopad aside. "About time," he said, folding his hands together. "You've always been too soft on him. It's time that boy received some hard discipline from you."

Qui-Gon took another swing. "I injured him."

"Good. Even better," Dooku approved. "That will smarten him up."

Qui-Gon finished his glass and poured another. He inhaled the fumes. "Why did you tell him the plans?"

Dooku tilted his chin up and Qui-Gon felt his master's presence ruffle across his mind. Qui-Gon immediately slammed his shields down, cutting Dooku's invasion off. "Answer my question," he reiterated. "Why did you tell him? We were to assimilate him into the position. Not jump start!"

Qui-Gon used the Force to pull up a chair and he sat down in front of Dooku. "Why do you insist on undermining everything we decided?"

Dooku scoffed. "Undermine? You're not a padawan anymore. Don't be naïve!" he gestured arguably. "I am the only person here who is making everything work! I put my time and effort into that boy! I know exactly how to push Kenobi into the spot we need him to be in."

Qui-Gon gripped his glass tight. "My apologies, Master," he caustically intoned. "I didn't realize Obi-Wan was your apprentice."

Dooku heard the sarcasm. "He may as well be," he grunted in return. "After all, I trained him more often than you."

"That's because you kept sending me away on missions," Qui-Gon returned, cheeks red from the liquor. "And you wouldn't let him come with me."

"That boy would have run and you know it!"

"He ran anyway," Qui-Gon reminded him. "Under both our noses, so do not throw that excuse at me!"

Dooku dangerously eyed Qui-Gon. Flares of gold shone bright in those eyes. "This is the reason I kept him away from you," he sneered, "You're too attached! Too easily manipulated by him that I was forced to step in."

"Forced?" Qui-Gon slammed the glass onto the desk. A hairline crack split the glass. "You weren't forced!" He leapt to his feet, hands still on the desk. "You simply wanted control. Always needed to have everything and everyone under your thumb. You couldn't let me raise Obi-Wan. You had to do it!"

Dooku matched Qui-Gon, standing to his full height. They were eye to eye now, glaring at one another into submission. Qui-Gon wasn't blinded by his master's inner workings. There was always another agenda behind the first one. How many times in his life did he discover his master's background maneuverings? Too many. His master was not a man who liked to rely on others. Ever since a former peer betrayed him, he never trusted another. He always had to have control. He needed to know everything, his fingers pulling all the strings.

Dooku's frown increased upon realizing Qui-Gon wasn't backing down. "I am beginning to wonder where your loyalties lie, Qui-Gon," he said. "To our mission or to Kenobi?"

"Both," he claimed.

Dooku scoffed irascibly at the answer. "You cannot be loyal to both," he admonished his former apprentice. "Either you will put the mission before Kenobi or the other way around. So far, everything you have done has pointed in the wrong direction. And I had to correct it." He gestured animatedly, before stroking his salt-colored beard. "Yes, Kenobi is vital to the mission, but that doesn't mean we put him before what needs to be done. Our mission will bring peace and prosperity to the galaxy! Show the might to those who try to control our gifts for their benefits! Our mission is far more important than Kenobi's feelings."

Qui-Gon's face contorted, lines crevices his skin as he defiantly challenged Dooku. He went to retort, but their contest of wills was interrupted by a sudden and hesitant knock.

Dooku's eyes shifted from Qui-Gon to the door. With an angry wave, the doors flew open to reveal Abe. The always dutiful servant in charge of Anakin's well-being when they could not be bothered with the mundane tasks. His eyes froze as his body stiffened at the action of the doors slamming open, but he gathered up his nerves.

"I-I am sorry to disturb you, my Lords," Abe apologized, entering the office after Dooku gestured for him to come in. "Master Skywalker's tutor wishes to speak with you. Urgently."

Qui-Gon and Dooku both cocked an eyebrow at the request. What could the tutor possibly wish to speak with them? She only needed to instruct the boy in his studies. How hard could that task be?

"Is she with the boy now?" Dooku lowly growled.

Abe's eyes shifted to the side. "She's just outside the door, my Lord."

Dooku huffed. "Bring her in," he said and took his seat.

Qui-Gon, as expected, moved away and off to one of the corners. He stood amongst the grey shadows, arms folded into his long sleeves, as he watched a petite brunette human stroll into the office. Abe respectfully bowed and took his leave after he introduced the tutor.

He was a smart servant.

Dooku gestured for her take a seat. The tutor promptly did. She was not an unpleasant person. Slim face, sharp eyes and respectable presence, she looked every part of an intelligent instructor. She came highly recommended, which made it all the more curious as to why she demanded an audience with them.

The tutor spoke first. "My Lords," she started. "Thank you for meeting with me. I won't take up too much of your time."

She already did, Qui-Gon thought as he glanced over to Dooku. His master thought the same thing. "Then speak freely and quickly," Dooku commanded.

The tutor obliged. "I demand extra credit or I find myself unable to continue on as Master Skywalker's tutor."

Dooku showed no reaction except for the mere subtle lift of his brow. "Why is that?"

The tutor looked high-strung with stiffness in her shoulders. "The boy, while certainly precocious, lacks focus," she reported to both Lords. "Master Skywalker refuses to engage or even acknowledge my very presence. When he talks, it is for disobedience only. He has no respect or regards towards me." She straightened in her seat, trying to appear taller, confident. "I took the job as a tutor. Not a babysitter. Therefore I must resign unless I receive a more appropriate fund to deal with Master Skywalker."

Dooku tapped his fingers together, shaped in a form of a tent as he contemplated the ultimatum. "I shall give you an extra twenty credits," Dooku finalized for it was the only offer she would receive.

But the tutor thought poorly of the offer. "Twenty? That's all? Have you tried teaching that boy?" she grilled into him. "He's impossible to tutor! I quit. You will have to find a new tutor and I should warn you that it may be impossible to find a better tutor than myself."

Dooku's silver brows poised in high arches as he regarded the tutor. Qui-Gon sighed softly, regretfully on her behalf. He didn't even bother to warn her. Dooku merely raised his hand up and the tutor was yanked off her seat by her throat. She croaked, fingernails digging into her skin to free herself of the invisible binds. Qui-Gon simply watched her with pity. How did she not see that her demands would only end in death?

She was in luck, however, that Dooku decided to not play with his victim. He flicked his wrist and her neck snapped before her body flopped to the floor in a broken mess. "She wasn't very clever," Dooku muttered under his breath as he rose up from his seat. "Now, I have to add finding a more suitable tutor for Skywalker on my list of things to accomplish," Dooku scrawled on a filmsi. "Along with having a visit with him."

Qui-Gon emerged from the shadows. "I'll do that," he quickly offered. "I'll see to Anakin, my master."

Dooku raised his gaze from the filmsi to Qui-Gon. "Trying to worm your way into gaining a new apprentice?" he questioned. "One falling out and you're done with Kenobi? Are you hoping to take on Skywalker?"

That wasn't it at all. Qui-Gon knew Dooku's visit with Skywalker would end with the boy in the healing wards. He wanted to avoid that, if only to spare pain for both Skywalker and Kenobi. "As we agreed upon earlier, I am to be in charge of their well-being. Or do you plans to make amendments for that as well?"

Dooku curled his nose at the challenge, but he flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "Go on ahead then," Dooku said. "See if you can instill manners into the boy before he becomes one of my problems."

Qui-Gon quickly bowed and left for the library. Their discussion on Obi-Wan would have to finish at another time. He arrived at the library, listening to Anakin's verbal abuse on how he didn't give a damn about the tutor and how he only wanted Obi-Wan as his tutor. Qui-Gon listened to the childish temper tantrum, but finally found it tiresome. He revoked his dinner privileges and ordered droids to guard Anakin's workbench in his room. The boy will not have access to it for the rest of the day.

Anakin got mad. He sensed the boy's strong Force presence churning in the anger. But the boy held his tongue, learning better than to provoke him. Again, Qui-Gon was far more lenient than what Dooku would offer. A few lashings would have got him a seat next to Obi-Wan down in the halls of healing.

Once he finished disciplining Anakin, he found it was time to visit Obi-Wan in the healing rooms, see how he was and have a more civilized discussion.

Obi-Wan laid completely still. He woke up an hour ago with a medic droid puncturing him with a needle. It informed him of his injuries and treatments. The jaw was in a process of healing and needed rest, so the medic prescribe silence to him. No talking whatsoever. Life was going to be dull.

Stuck in the healing cot, Obi-Wan had time to reflect how he ended up in the healing wards. At first, the memory was a blur, but the longer he stayed awake, the more the pieces came together. Qui-Gon punched him. Hard enough to knock him unconscious and swell half of his face that resembled Master Windu's lightsaber. Obi-Wan didn't touch his face. It stung without even moving a muscle.

He expected Qui-Gon to make some type of appearance, but he never showed. Obi-Wan didn't know how he felt about that. He wanted to see him, if only to rage at him. At the same time, he did not wish to see that monster! Qui-Gon fell far. Too far out of reach.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. His nose stung. Not from the bruise, but from the overly pungent sterilization of all the equipment attached to him. Eyes drooped as he studied his medical ward. Too heavy. Almost like he had no strength left within him to keep awake. Maybe it was from his concussion or… or the drugged suppressions pumping into his veins.

Obi-Wan glared at the offending object. Were they seriously pumping him with Force suppressors? How uncivilized.

Keeping focus, he yanked the tube out of his arm. Freed, he let the tube slip to the floor as he released a strained breath. That one task winded him, but he didn't stop there. He pulled all the tubes out, freeing himself from anymore of this inhumane torture.

Stiff, Obi-Wan got into a sitting position. He cracked his neck as he took deep breaths to get his head straight. The Force slowly returned to him, like a little stream flowing into a river. Relieved of the Force growing within him, Obi-Wan encouraged himself to stand on his feet. He did with ease and got the door with no hindrance.

That was good. He had no need for droids or servants to keep him captive. His only drive was to get to Anakin. Save him from the Sith Lords. They had to get out of Serenno. Away from all the madness!

He needed to get to Anakin. That was all that mattered.

Obi-Wan slipped out of the healing hall and plodded through the corridors in search for Anakin. He followed his Force connection, sensing his young charge four levels above him. He took the turbolift and rode it in a quick secession. By the time the turbolift stopped, Obi-Wan regained enough strength to walk without any hiccups.

He followed the Force, letting it be his guide through the palace. It led him to a door where he heard strong, emotionally-charged voices emitting through the steel. He recognized Anakin's voice. The high-pitched tone of a child yet to reach puberty. And the other, it was scathing. Strick. Emotionless.

Obi-Wan palmed the door open. The steel doors swished aside, granting him access to the chamber. He stepped over the threshold and his eyes immediately found Anakin. The boy sat at an elegantly carved table with his arms crossed as he petulantly glared at the other person in the room.

Obi-Wan didn't have time to acknowledge the other person for Anakin immediately saw him. "Obi-Wan!" he cried, leaping up. All the anger within the boy melted in relief and joy. "Where have you been? Qui-Gon was just here. He said you were... what happened to your face?"

He didn't answer. He only snatched Anakin's hand and turned back to the door.

Anakin needed no encouragement as Obi-Wan led him out of the room and into the corridor. "Are we running away? Are we escaping?" Anakin kept asking as Obi-Wan hurried him around the corrido. "What happened to your face?"

Despite the deep ache that lingered, Obi-Wan verbally answered. "I fell."

Anakin's eyebrows crumbled in skepticism. "Fell? From what? How—"

Obi-Wan pressed onto their Force bond, signaling Anakin to drop the interrogation. Anakin understood, sealing his lips. But he still smiled in relief. His fears shed off him as he looked up to Obi-Wan, happy to have his sworn protector with him again.

They pressed on, scurrying through the palace trying to find the quickest exit that wouldn't lead them plunging to their deaths. Obi-Wan used the mental map in his head to retrace the steps to the hanger. It was their best and only shot. Get there, hop on a freighter or even snaring a speeder bike, and escape from Qui-Gon and Dooku. They needed to get out!

Anakin picked up his pace to match Obi-Wan's long strides. He didn't complain. He knew the importance of what was occurring. Obi-Wan only hoped that if caught, Anakin would not receive punishment.

But they weren't going to get caught. Obi-Wan was determined. More determined than last time. They were going to get out. They were going to breathe in fresh air and see the stars elongated before entering hyperspace.

They were—

A strong, calloused hand gripped the back of his shirt and gave a good tug. Obi-Wan choked, gasping as the tunic dug into his esophagus. Anakin twirled, rebalancing himself before falling on the floor from the sudden jerk. Obi-Wan too got spun around and found himself face-to-face with an unknown individual.

Strong, angular face with a sleek of shine to his blonde hair that it almost looked like he was bald. Dark blue eyes stared back at Obi-Wan. Not kind eyes. Hard, cold and battle worn. The man held himself up, chin tipped back to look down on others, although he was not a giant. He was the same height as Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan had no idea who the man was, but he reminded him of a soldier. The mannerisms all pointed in the direction of a soldier from his uniform to his postured stance. And if that wasn't enough, he had a small force of armed men standing behind him in support.

The man sneered at Obi-Wan. "Going somewhere, Kenobi?"

The fact that the man knew him by name wasn't surprising. Obi-Wan figured everyone in the palace would recognize his face and know his name. What surprised him was the accent. It was Mandalorian. And it sent Obi-Wan's heart into a frenzy!

Did that mean that…? Satine… no, it can't be, but… Qui-Gon said… Dooku…

The man examined Obi-Wan with traces of laugh lines itching to grow wider and deeper. "You are nothing but a boy," claimed the Mandalorian. "Someone of your reputation, I thought you to be… taller."

Obi-Wan snorted. Always with the height joke. Could no one come up with an original nowadays?

Anakin glared up at the man. "Let him go or you'll be sorry!"

The Mandalorian chuckled at such proclamation. "You must be Skywalker," he commented. "You're even shorter than Kenobi."

"What does size have to do with beating you?" Anakin remarked.

The Mandalorian jeered, his lips twisting. "You certainly have a mouth," he said and his grip became ironclad. "Perhaps you'd like to talk more with your masters?" He snapped his fingers. The armed men behind him stood at attention. "Guards! Escort these two to Count Dooku and Lord Jinn. I'm sure they are sick with worry about them."

The Mandalorian sneered at Obi-Wan as the guards swarmed him and Anakin. The odds were against them and Obi-Wan knew when retreating was better than putting up a fight. The guards ushered them back where they ran from, forcing them into a turbolift and straight up to where Obi-Wan sensed both Qui-Gon and Dooku.

Another failed escape to add to his ever-growing list.

Obi-Wan and Anakin depressingly stood before him, both looking rather bleak and angry. They haven't said a word since they arrived, nor did they take the seat offered to them. They chose to stand, one right next to the other.

Qui-Gon didn't care. Although, he wished Obi-Wan would at least sit down for a few moments. The side of his face still ballooned with a dark mosaic of colors. But, naturally, Obi-Wan refused the offer to sit, to even acknowledge that he was injured. Stubborn and foolish boy.

Therefore, he directed his first question to Obi-Wan. "You should be recuperating in the healing wards," he said. "Why are you not there? It's clear enough you aren't healed."

Obi-Wan's cold gaze didn't even flicker. "I'm fine. Minor injury," he answered through barely parted lips. His jaw must be too sore to speak normally.

"Nonetheless, you should be resting," Qui-Gon insisted.

"I don't feel very rested in that room."

Qui-Gon sighed, resting his chin in his hand. It appeared Obi-Wan went back to that stubborn attitude again. Very well, he redirected his focus on Anakin. "What about you? What were you doing in the lower quarters?"

Anakin hesitated, thinking of a lie. "Erm… exploring."

"Exploring?"

"I haven't seen much since I arrive," Anakin shrugged. "I wanted to see more."

Qui-Gon huffed short of a chuckle. A good lie, but not the truth. He didn't need them to tell him the truth though. He already knew. They were trying to escape and it was a good thing Qui-Gon received the call rather than Dooku. His punishment for their actions would be far worse than Qui-Gon would enforce. In fact, he wouldn't even call it punishment. It was forgiveness.

"I see," Qui-Gon said to Anakin, eyes flickering from one to another. "For a moment, I thought the two of you were escaping. But, it appears I'm wrong. You were merely exploring the palace." Qui-Gon rose to his feet. Anakin flinched, but Obi-Wan remained in place. No reaction at all. "If that be the case, I'll be more than happy to give you a proper tour, Anakin. In fact, we can do it right now."

He called for Abe, who promptly arrived as if he hid behind the door the entire time. Qui-Gon instructed him to give Anakin a tour of the palace so that he may know what is available to him. Abe obliged, gesturing for Anakin to follow him.

"Isn't Obi-Wan coming too?" Anakin asked, looking between them.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Obi-Wan knows his way around the palace and he still needs to recuperate," he calmly informed the boy. "You may see him afterwards in his own chambers, if you wish."

Anakin nervously glanced to Obi-Wan for instruction, but Obi-Wan said nothing. Only did a small bob of his head to indicate it was all good. Anakin whined, but dragged his feet after Abe took his shoulders and directed him out the door, babbling on about the history of the palace.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went the other direction. They said nothing. Obi-Wan didn't even look in his direction, focusing straight ahead. Qui-Gon respected his need for silence and did not try to engage him. He decided to speak to him once they were inside his room, apologize and discuss in a more civilized manner than last time.

Upon arriving in Obi-Wan bedroom, Obi-Wan immediately set off to his desk, shuffling books and papers around in a hurried search. Qui-Gon watched for a brief moment before he addressed Obi-Wan.

"I want to apologize," he started as Obi-Wan continued messing about his desk. "I should not have hit you. That was my mistake."

Obi-Wan scanned his desk, hands on his hips in full concentration. Qui-Gon wondered if he was even listening to him. "Obi-Wan? Are you listening?"

The young man sighed, as he took a quick survey around his room. He didn't answer the question. He moved from his desk to his bookcase, hands dragging along the shelves in futile search for something that made Qui-Gon more curious.

But, also, annoyed. "It's rude to ignore a person who is talking to you," Qui-Gon said, impatient with Obi-Wan's lack of response. "Especially when one is trying to apologize."

Obi-Wan deserted the bookcase and went to his nightstand, opening the drawer and rummaged inside. He stopped for a moment and then his hand reached in and picked something up.

"I know," came Obi-Wan's soft voice as he turned around to face Qui-Gon, finally acknowledging his existence since they entered. "I was looking for this."

He lifted the river stone for Qui-Gon to see. Qui-Gon eyed it curiously… hesitantly. "What about it?"

Obi-Wan came over and shoved the stone into Qui-Gon's hand. "I don't want it."

Qui-Gon stared at the stone in his hand, offended by the gesture. "I gave you this as a present," he said, holding the stone out to Obi-Wan. "It belongs to you."

Obi-Wan stepped away. "It means nothing to me," he said. "Keep it. I no longer have any use of it."

The Sith Lord was wounded. It was his first present he ever gave to Obi-Wan, a piece of his home planet. It was a stone he treasured and happily passed onto his apprentice. Something to symbolize their partnership as Master and Padawan. To have Obi-Wan return it, another ultimate rejection like the braid he found in his room seven years ago, seared by a lightsaber not of his own.

Qui-Gon clutched the cooling stone. "Obi-Wan... let's not get… let's take a moment here," he offered to keep some resemblance of peace between them. "What I did was wrong. I should not have hurt you. I let my anger get the better of me and for that, I let you down."

At the mention of the attack, Obi-Wan caressed the injured side of his face. The skin looked tender, but Obi-Wan's reaction meant the pain was bearable. "Is that all you have to say?" Obi-Wan asked Qui-Gon.

The Sith Lord let his shoulders dropped just a little farther. "I do mean it, Obi-Wan," he beseeched to his young apprentice. "I don't want to be the monster you think I am. I don't want to cause you any grief or pain. I want to make your life easy and comfortable.

"I know we both said things we regret to one another," Qui-Gon continued. "A lot of things happened at once and emotions ran higher than expected. What Tahl said to me… I should have told you earlier. I should have explained it better to you and then, maybe, none of this would have occurred. We wouldn't have this rift between us."

Obi-Wan looked at him for a moment, feelings his words to figure if he was honest or not. He meandered a little toward his bed. He didn't sit in it. Just stood, thinking over Qui-Gon's words. Qui-Gon hoped he heard him and sensed the truth of what he spoke. He only ever wanted to help and protect Obi-Wan from the dangers that were crushing against the Republic. Qui-Gon knew for certain that if Obi-Wan stayed with the Jedi, he would have died young and in misery. Tahl warned him, Dooku had a vision of a possibility of it and Qui-Gon couldn't take that chance. He wouldn't lose Obi-Wan to that fate and he needed Obi-Wan to know that. In the end, Qui-Gon only ever wanted was to keep him safe.

The silence lulled long enough. "Say something, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon asked.

His young apprentice looked back to him. "Say what? That I forgive you?" he asked, incredulously as if the mere suggestion was an insult. "Do you still plan to use me and Anakin to overtake the galaxy?"

"It's not like that—"

"It's a simple yes or no question."

Qui-Gon hummed, frustrated. "You and Anakin are destined to change the galaxy. I don't—"

"A yes then," Obi-Wan interrupted, nodding his head in acceptance upon the answer. "You know… a normal person wouldn't subjugate someone they claim to care about into becoming a killer. That's what you want me to become. A killer. A murderer of the people I care and love.

"You want to turn me into something I am against," he pointed. "Something that will cause me a great deal or grief and pain, but you don't care. Why would you? You haven't before. Not in years."

Obi-Wan walked around his desk chair. "Anakin once asked me why I stayed with you for three years," he said to Qui-Gon. "I told him I stayed because I had hope. Hope that maybe Qui-Gon would come back to me, realize his mistake and stop this madness. But, it never happened. It only got worse."

Obi-Wan looked back to the stone in Qui-Gon's hand. "That's why I don't want it anymore," he said in regards to the river stone. "I no longer have hope. That's gone. For good."

Obi-Wan turned away and went to his bed. "I'm going to rest now," he said. "My jaw still hurts and I'm sure Dooku will wish to converse over dinner tonight. Wouldn't want to get him mad by being unable to entertain him."

He pulled back the covers and slipped into his bed. His head resting on the pillow and a sigh of great relief came. Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan's blue-green eyes drift to a close and his lips pressed down to a thin line. He was done talking. Done listening.

Qui-Gon sighed. A terrible rumble in his guts. Unsure what to do, he left Obi-Wan's bedroom. He mulled over the river stone in his hand, debating what to do with the now discarded gift. After a long moment, Qui-Gon returned the cold river stone in his pocket, deciding to hold on to it in case… no, Obi-Wan sounded assertive. He wasn't going to change his mind. But, Qui-Gon tucked the stone in his pocket. He'll keep the stone anyway. Because, while Obi-Wan may no longer have hope, Qui-Gon did.