sterling5842 – The storm is definitely coming.

Lillafiore – Crion is mature, but unfortunately aware of it, which is why he tends to be a bit arrogant.

Chapter 20

Crion was a Jedi padawan, but he was also a 16-year-old boy with all the energy and restlessness that came along with that. After hours cooped up in a Jedi starfighter, they had been greeted, of all things, with an unexpected stay in quarantine. Two hours of being poked, prodded, complete with a blood sample – like the Council was going to send diseased Jedi to start an epidemic on Patul. They had been deemed healthy – big shock. Now, he felt as fidgety as a youngling in the crèche. True to his training, Crion held it all in behind a calm façade as they were finally shown to where they would be staying at the facilities belonging to the Nustar Mining Corporation.

After a quick trip through the grounds, Artel Kriyk, the rather long-winded director of operations, guided them along through marble paved hallways with vaulted ceilings, pointing out every intricate detail and piece of artwork along the way. One would have thought he had built the company up with his own two hands from the way he rattled on, but Crion couldn't fault him for his exuberance. From what he had read, Patul had been an impoverished dust ball before Nustar arrived. Now the moon was teeming with commerce and dripping with wealth. To the local population, Nustar was a savior, and Artel Kriyk was the face of the company.

Obviously now, the Sraxian government was interested in laying claim to the moon, and more importantly, its wealth. That was why the Jedi were involved. Having seen too many similar situations, Crion felt the negotiations would be fairly straight forward. He had yet to see a situation his master could not bring to peace.

"This is where you will be staying," Kriyk finally said, coming to a stop in front of a set of large glossy doors. "I hope you will find the accommodations satisfactory."

"I am sure they will be more than adequate," Obi-Wan replied graciously.

"In that case, I will take my leave." Kriyk offered a curt bow. "I have preparations for the welcome banquet tonight."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Obi-Wan said as both Jedi master and padawan returned the bow. "We will see you this evening."

The door closed behind Kriyk, and Crion let out a rush of air in relief. He had thought Kriyk would seriously never shut up. Usually such a show of frustration would have warranted at least a note from his master. Instead, Obi-Wan remained very silent and pensive as he pulled off his cloak and laid it neatly over the back of the sofa. The Jedi master's eyes slid shut, features bending in concentration as he continued to stand there. Crion had seen such behavior before and really hated it when his master had bad feelings at the beginning of a mission.

"What's wrong, Master?"

"Not all is as it seems here, Padawan," Obi-Wan answered softly.

"When is it ever?" Crion groaned. So much for straight-forward negotiations. "Do you sense danger?"

"It's not the mission, Padawan," Obi-Wan was quick to say. "Everyone involved so far is eager for our assistance and no one has been hiding anything. It's something in the background … discordant, elusive."

"A trap?"

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan said. "I sense no immediate danger, so we shall proceed, but keep your senses on alert."

"Of course, Master."

Crion began to bounce a little on his feet, the first show of his pent up energy. "I couldn't help but notice the very nice gymnasium we passed, Master. I don't know about you, but I am about ready to crawl out of my skin."

"I would rather you not do that, Padawan," Obi-Wan said with a wry smile. "It makes quite a mess when you do."

Crion cracked a smile. It was good to be at his master's side again.

"Go ahead and change clothes, Padawan. I haven't had the opportunity to really test what my master taught you while I was away."

The small observation area had been built in the last week. Hidden from the main gymnasium behind two-way mirrored plexiglass, whoever was in the small room could see into the gymnasium while whoever was on the other side would only see the mirror's reflection.

"What makes you so certain they will come here?" Soren asked.

"I was a Jedi padawan once," Xanatos said. "They had a long trip and were holed up in quarantine, then subjected to Kriyk. I am sure Crion is practically begging to do something active. The schedule has provided them with ample down time, and a Jedi master would not pass up such an opportunity for instruction."

"I have the data from the boy's blood sample." Soren handed a datapad to Xanatos. "It's a perfect match to your son's DNA."

Xanatos said nothing, accepting the datapad as though it was a long lost treasure.

"Do I need to have security detain them?" Soren continued.

"No," Xanatos said softly. "I need Master Kenobi to negotiate this treaty. I will keep watch over them and deal with the matter when this is done." Xanatos could sense them in the distance, already making their way toward the gymnasium. Jedi were often too predictable for their own good. "You best leave," he said. "They are coming and I don't want you to have to answer any questions. They would both sense your duplicity."

"I will keep my distance."

Xanatos sat down as Soren quickly slipped away. The anticipation was almost overwhelming as he waited for the Jedi to arrive. As they entered the gymnasium, he pulled already strong shields even tighter around his presence. It was too early for either to sense he was near.

"This is great, Master," Crion said. "Plenty of room to spar even."

"Hint taken, Padawan." The Jedi master slid off his boots and placed them in the corner. "I want to see the kata you are working on first – opening position."

Crion – his son – took a place on the mat, directly in front of the mirror. If not for the glass, Xanatos could reach out and touch him. Igniting his saber, the boy held it stretched out in front of him and took an opening stance.

"Good … now begin."

As Crion began to step through the intricate moves, Xanatos remembered performing the same kata when not much older than Crion. Kenobi stayed close, encouraging and offering correction when needed. Xanatos held his breath with each advancement of the exercise, strangely taken by how much he desired Crion to succeed. The boy bobbled – everyone bobbled in that place when learning. But Crion didn't lose focus with the mistake, making the necessary adjustments to proceed as he studied himself in the mirror. Xanatos searched the determined face, so wonderfully like his own. Except, Mia was there - her cheekbones, the elegant curve of her chin, the way the boy clenched his bottom lip beneath his teeth when concentrating.

The exercise came to a close, and Crion looked up to Kenobi.

"I want you to do it again, Padawan," Kenobi said. "This time, with your eyes closed. The mirror distracts you – your eyes deceive you. You will never be able to watch your form when you fight. You must let go of your conscious self and feel your position in the Force."

Long ebony lashes swept down, blocking shining blue eyes. There was a surge in the Force as Crion opened himself up to it, and the lines of concentration faded from the boy's face. Deep down, a part of Xanatos, the bond he had forged with a sleepy infant, yearned to reach out. The fallen Jedi resisted, pulling his shields even more tightly around him. He didn't need the datapad in his hand to know that this was his son. The Force sang of it. His heart leapt at the recognition of something that was a part of him. Xanatos reached up and pressed a hand to the glass, as close as he could.

"Splendid," Kenobi said as he unclipped his saber from his belt. Pulling his tunics off, he folded them and placed them neatly on top of his boots. "So, are you attacking or defending?"

"Defending," the boy voiced after a moment's thought.

"As you wish, Padawan."

Kenobi assumed an opening stance, one that Crion mimicked exactly. Soresu - both of them. Xanatos let out a sigh as he settled in for a long bout. Two Soresu users sparring with each other was essentially an exercise in patience.

The fight began. Crion gave up ground, allowing his master to back him across the mat. His saber was a blur around his body. It was quickly apparent that his son was well trained, something that sent a shudder of pride welling up in Xanatos. He was outmatched, but showed no hint of frustration, keeping a calm that seemed beyond his years. In fact, he made his situation look easy. The only betrayal of his current stress was sweat that flowed down the sides of his face.

Xanatos tore his gaze from his son, turning his attention to Kenobi. The Jedi master's presence in the Force was nearly blinding, as he remembered it had been on Bandomeer so many years ago. A boyish face still lurked under that beard, but the child that Xanatos remembered as insecure, angry, and reckless was gone. Maturity had anchored Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Force. It was hard to see where the ancient energy ended and he began. His eyes were keen and focused, in complete control of the sequence of events. Crion was doomed.

A hint of a smile crossed Kenobi's features before he switched things up a little. He flipped up over Crion's head, landing firmly on his feet behind the boy. Crion pivoted as the attack continued with Ataru. The master's blade was a blur of lightening quick attacks. Crion adapted, but was tiring. He continued to defend before a gap came in his defenses. Kenobi was there, his blade touching to the boy's neck. Crion muttered something that sounded vaguely like a curse, earning him an arched eyebrow.

"You defended well, Padawan."

"So well I died," the boy shot back as he dropped to the floor panting.

"Remember, there will be a day when you will equal me, and I dare say, will score a kill point against me," Kenobi said, sitting down next to Crion.

"Yeah, when you require a hoverchair … maybe."

"I thought I was already in one of those in your mind, Padawan."

Crion laughed. It wasn't the childish giggles Xanatos remembered, but it was musical nonetheless. Obi-Wan playfully tugged at the long braid that hung from behind the boy's ear.

Xanatos pondered all he had seen for a moment. His son was brilliant, though he had expected no less. A part of him had hoped his son existed in a more distant master-apprentice relationship, but it was painfully obvious that the boy and Kenobi were close. That wouldn't change the plan, but it was going to make things more difficult.

He looked to the datapad resting in his hand again, proof that Crion R'yal was Crion Marojni. It was the last piece he needed – irrefutable evidence – essential to his plan. He was about to place himself in one of the most dangerous places in the galaxy, between a Jedi master and his padawan. And one thing was certain after watching the pair spar - he had no desire to fight Kenobi. There was no room for mistakes.