Charismilena - You will know Xanatos' plans soon enough

sterling5842 – Exactly, Crion is not smart enough to keep himself out of trouble. Actually, I don't exactly know that it's smarts. I think this is more Crion's arrogance coming into play. He thinks he has the whole situation figured out. I like all the master/padawan family mush – they are going to need it because my forecast is angst on the horizon.

Chapter 14

Crion neared the training salles, head held high despite the stares and whispers that trailed him. The ugly rumors had made their way through the padawan ranks quickly. He and Keyan had even run into Anakin, who was coming to investigate.

"Is it true, Crion?"

"What do you think, Skywalker?" A scowl twisted Crion's face. "Do you have so little trust in me?"

"No." Anakin paused thoughtfully. "I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt Sienn."

Crion had sent the Chosen One off with Keyan, asking them to go check on Sienn again. Anakin had wanted to follow him, but Crion had ultimately won the battle of wills with an unsettling determination and warning burning brightly in midnight blue eyes. He felt free now. His friends were safely away from whatever was going to happen.

He paused at the door where he sensed Bror's presence. "Master, forgive me," he whispered to himself as he stepped into the large room. Those who were sparring paused as Crion quickly crossed the floor with long-legged strides.

"You low-life, son of a …. Kowakian monkey-lizard," he spat out when Bror turned to look at him.

"Unhappy your little secret got out?" the older padawan replied with a smug smile. "Afraid Master Kenobi might have something to say about it?"

"My master and I have no secrets, as it should be between master and padawan," Crion stated with unwavering conviction.

"Are you so sure about that?" Bror taunted. "I mean, how would you know if he did have a secret?"

When Crion failed to justify the offensive question with an answer, Bror rolled his eyes. "Why are you here, Ryal?"

"I simply want an apology … to Sienn. You will take back what you said in front of all these witnesses," Crion explained.

"I just reported what I saw." Bror shrugged.

"Apparently it doesn't matter to you that you are wrong and that you have damaged the honor of a fellow padawan in your stupidity …"

"Look, whatever happened is her own fault, Ryal." Bror crossed his arms over his chest, stretching up to his full height. "Sienn's had her hands all over you since I can remember … and everyone knows how Twi'leks are."

"What?" Crion spat out in shock.

The statement left him feeling as though someone had punched him in the gut. He glanced to the left, seeing a couple of Twi'lek padawans turn away and begin to leave, obviously uncomfortable at the slur directed at their species.

"Would you care to share those sentiments with Master Gella, Master Vrei, or any other of the well respected Twi'lek masters who call this temple home?" A satisfied smile stretched across Crion's face as he looked around at those watching with keen interest. "I wager you won't have to," he said. "There are enough witnesses standing right here. The news might spread through the Temple by the afternoon meal."

"You …" Bror struggled to control his emotions, his sudden embarrassment bleeding into anger. "You can't deny the facts. Were you or were you not coming from her quarters, alone, at a little past 0200 this morning?"

"I was," Crion admitted freely and boldly, aware he was getting under his nemesis' skin. "And just because you wouldn't be able to spend an evening in the company of a beautiful girl without taking advantage of her, doesn't mean I have the same weakness or shallowness."

At a loss for words at the verbal rebuke, Bror decided to allow his fist to speak. He lunged out. Crion caught the fist and in a quick move, bent the arm, twisting the older boy around.

"You don't want to fight me," Crion said very deliberately into his ear. "You will lose, or perhaps you have forgotten what happened last time. You don't have a saber master here to save your sorry butt when you lose control and get in over your head." Crion pushed Bror away. "An apology," he demanded.

Bror lunged again. Crion caught both arms this time and drove his knee up into his attacker's stomach, dropping him down to the mat before casually stepping back.

"Do you still want to continue this?"

Two other boys moved to flank Crion. Bror waved them off. "He's mine." Instead the boys moved to the door of the room, blocking any chance of escape as Bror called his saber to his hand. "Let's finish this."

"I'm sorry, Bror. I'm unarmed."

"Too bad for you," the teenager sneered.

"You don't want to do this," Crion urged. The awareness that the situation was rapidly getting out of control was immense. He had pushed a bit too far. "Fighting is one thing. Attacking an unarmed padawan with your saber would definitely mean the Council would get involved."

"It's worth it to wipe that smug, arrogant smile off your face."

Bror lunged forward with a downward strike. Crion flipped backwards, trying to avoid the singeing blade. He had never thought Bror would actually attack him with a saber and it was making him rethink the foolish decision he made to leave his behind. Another swipe came. Crion ducked, allowing the blade to slice the air over his head. He put some distance between himself and Bror.

Crion found it suddenly funny that although he had spent hours upon hours refining and practicing his saber technique, he had actually received little training in the temple for defending against a saber attack when unarmed, but he had spared with Bror enough to know how the older teen fought. He could do this. It was just a simple matter of staying out of the way, he thought, just as the blade singed his tunic sleeve. It was actually a comforting feeling to know the saber was on a training setting. If the blade had been at full strength, it would have cut his sleeve and maybe his arm.

Five more minutes, maybe. He could sense a response. Masters were approaching, trying to find the source of the disturbance.

Bror attacked again with a downward slash. Crion dodged to the side. Bror kicked out, a booted foot catching the younger boy in the chest. It sent him staggering. Crion fell, rolling just in time to miss a strike aimed at him.

"Any time now," he muttered to himself as he scrambled back to his feet just in time to get his wish.

"Stop this!" a loud voice bellowed, filling the practice room.

At once, Crion stood still, not wanting to disobey the direct order of Qui-Gon Jinn. It was with a sinking feeling of horror that he realized Bror was not so obedient. Crion put his hand up to shield himself from the strike, catching the searing blade in the palm of his hand. It took him a minute to shake off the shock of the pain and actually let go. He had been grazed and received burns in practice before, but none of those burns had hurt as bad as having the entire surface of his palm in contact with a blade. Crion clutched his arm and crumpled to the floor, aware of a stern, "Stand down, Padawan Talik."

The hum of a lightsaber blinking from existence accompanied the hurried footsteps of Bror's master, Eleta Uaay.

"Padawan, what happened?" Master Uaay asked in concern.

"He came in here to pick a fight with me," Bror answered, wrapping an arm protectively across his abdomen.

"I came to talk," Crion nearly growled, still clutching on to his injured hand. "You were the one who chose to draw your saber while I was unarmed."

"Only …"

"Enough," Master Yoda said, his voice carrying from the other side of the room. "First, to the Healer's Ward you both will go. Then, explain you will."

Some of the padawans gathered began to shuffle toward the doors. "Leave you may not. Need to know what was witnessed we do."

Qui-Gon pulled Crion up to his feet and started him toward the door. "How did you get here so fast?" Crion asked.

"I was meeting with Master Yoda. Anakin commed me from Sienn's quarters with a horrible feeling that you were about to do something incredibly stupid. I can see that his instincts served him well." Qui-Gon let out a frustrated sigh. "I will see that you are situated, and then I will contact your master."

They burst through the doors to the Healer's Ward. It was Bant who met them. "What happened?"

"I got in a fight," Crion said. "I grabbed onto the blade of a training saber to block a strike."

He surrendered his hand, noticing for the first time how blistered and red his normally pale skin appeared.

"Anything else I should know about?" the healer asked.

"Probably bruised ribs where a boot caught me in the chest."

"What am I going to do with you?" she muttered, ushering him into an examination room.

Crion lay stretched out on a cot in one of the rooms. He had made Bant turn off the annoyingly bright overhead lights and was now resting comfortably, his mind light with the buzz of some painkiller. He resisted the urge to try to wiggle his fingers. It wouldn't work. His hand had been completely numbed and was now submersed in a bacta-filled bag.

It seemed like it had been hours. Why hadn't his master come? He felt like a condemned man, waiting for a sentence.

He soon sensed Obi-Wan's presence, more shielded than normal. Crion turned his head to face the wall as the door opened, unable to look his master in the eye. Obi-Wan approached, sat down next to the cot, and waited. He knew that it was impossible for Crion to stay quiet for long.

"This is the part I have been dreading the most," Crion finally said in a near whisper.

"And what is that?" Obi-Wan asked.

"The look of disappointment on your face." Crion shifted, grimacing when he saw the stern lines that etched his master's features. "I wish I could say I felt even the least bit of satisfaction in it, but all that is left is the sickening feeling that I lowered myself to the level of something that ranks below the pond scum in the Room of a Thousand Fountains."

"Then I don't have to inform you of the trouble you are in."

"No, Master," Crion answered contritely. "I will accept the full consequences for my actions."

"What happened, Padawan? I need to understand," Obi-Wan asked, in a stern, but more gentle voice.

"I stayed out too late last night, Master," Crion answered. "I fell asleep. Sienn woke me up when Keyan left so that I could leave. Bror saw me coming out of her quarters and spread some horrible rumors around the dining hall this morning."

"So you thought a fight would help?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I went to talk."

"But you knew that it was highly likely you would provoke Padawan Talik and that this 'talk' would end in a fight," Obi-Wan countered.

Crion simply nodded in response. "I could not just ignore how much he had hurt Sienn. Put yourself in my shoes, Master. What if it had been Master Chun spreading some ugly rumor about Master Tachi when you were younger."

"That's hardly a valid example," Obi-Wan said, clearly trying not to laugh. "The masters would have been picking his teeth up off the floor when Siri was through with him."

"Okay, Master Eerin, then."

"I don't like it when you use Bant against me," Obi-Wan shot back. He took a deep breath before saying, "I probably would have done the same … and I would have been every bit as wrong."

Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair. "I wish you had talked to me about this before acting."

"You wouldn't have agreed," Crion replied.

"That is the point, Padawan."

Obi-Wan's comlink chimed. He plucked it from his belt.

"Kenobi."

"Your presence is requested before the Council."

"I am on my way." Obi-Wan stood, pulling his cloak around him and smoothing it out. "Rest," he told his padawan. "I will back after meeting with the Council to discuss discipline."

As Obi-Wan disappeared through the door, feelings of guilt washed over Crion. Because of his actions, his master had been pulled from a meeting with a senator and was now going before the Council to defend him. He silently vowed to never do something so stupid again.