Incognito12 – Xanatos really wants to win his son over and be a father. However, he might find that he doesn't have a clue what that really means at the beginning.
Geri K – Once again, Xanatos is bullying his way into what he wants, and hurting someone he truly does love in the process.
Lillafiore – Leave it to Crion to hit the mark – ouch.
IBG – Xanatos knows his old ways aren't going to win him his son, but they are his old ways and are hard to part with. It should be an interesting journey.
Chapter 23
Crion had been blessed with solitude for most of his trip. Soren had knocked a couple of times with offer of a meal. Both times, he had declined. Time was too valuable.
Crion had begun his meditations, carefully dissecting his thoughts and feelings, banishing his anger and frustration with his situation to the Force. It was only a hindrance. There was nothing he could immediately do to change his circumstances. Once he had pushed the chains of emotion aside like a Jedi, he was able to look at his situation calmly.
To be completely honest with himself, he had to admit that it had wounded his pride to have the poster child for Jedi padawans-gone-bad reprimand him for anger. But that was in the past, and it was time to show Xanatos Marojni who exactly Crion R'yal truly was.
This was no different than any mission, or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. In reality, everything was twisted. The enemy was family and so far seemed to be no threat. Still, the guidelines he followed on missions needed to be followed here as well. First off, he needed to keep his mouth shut – always easier said than done.
A hesitant knock at the door caused him to look up. He willed his body to move to answer, grimacing at the pins and needles that shot up through his legs. The door opened, and Xanatos offered him a warm smile.
"There is something I would like to show you … if that is okay with you."
Apparently, someone else had decided to adopt a more diplomatic stance as well.
"Of course," Crion replied with a nod of the head, in a polite tone reserved for many of the irritating dignitaries he'd had the misfortune of meeting since becoming an apprentice.
Xanatos took a seat in the lounge area, leaning forward to stretch his neck. He looked as stiff and tired as Crion felt. Crion settled into the seat next to him, glad for the plush cushions after hours of kneeling on the floor.
"You don't look like you slept any," his father observed.
"I had too much to sort through," Crion answered softly. "Besides, I never sleep well in space. I always feel too cooped up."
"I completely understand … and apologize if I passed that particular trait along."
Crion lightly clenched his bottom lip between his teeth as a subtle reminder to not say the first thing that popped into his mind. He didn't want a lecture about how alike they were. Xanatos knew nothing about him.
"I know that you are not usually this quiet," Xanatos said, turning to face him again. "I gave much thought to what you said and I want you to be who you are. I want you to feel free to speak what is on your mind …"
"I don't think you are ready for that," Crion said with a chuckle. "Anyone who gives me that license usually gets exactly what is on my mind,"
"I value honesty … and I will never learn anything about you if you never say anything."
The ship rumbled ever so slightly as it fell out of hyperspace. In such a high quality ship, the familiar motion was barely noticeable. Still, the streaks of stars settled to pinpoints of light and a planet could be seen in the distance.
"That's Telos – our home."
Crion opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by Xanatos. "Now, before you correct me and say that Coruscant is your home, I want to remind you that your beginnings are here. It is your home planet."
Crion sat in silence, transfixed as the ship passed from orbit to atmosphere before blending into lines of traffic in a majestic city. Tall elegant buildings reached high into a deep blue sky, disappearing into the clouds above. It was as though someone had taken a city from the Core Worlds and transplanted it on Telos.
"We are entering Thani, the capitol. You seem surprised," Xanatos observed.
"This isn't exactly the image I get when I think of the Outer Rim."
"Not all worlds out here are impoverished dust balls," Xanatos countered, obvious pride coloring his words.
Crion took a deep breath, deciding to test his father's assertion that he valued honesty. "I actually got the impression from what I've read that Offword had destroyed much of the planet."
"You are correct," Xanatos replied after a moment's silence. "Offworld was not always the respectable upstanding company it is now. It has taken a lot of time, effort and resources to restore Telos to what it is now."
"Why the change? Why destroy it then build it back up?"
"Life changes us, Crion," Xanatos answered with a gentle smile. "I became a father and wanted a home my son could be proud of."
Crion settled into silence again. He stared straight ahead, aware of the slight glance directed at him. Did his father really expect him to believe that he had gone from destroyer to philanthropist for his sake? Xanatos allowed him his silence as the ship continued south of Thani and neared Offworld headquarters. The ship settled down in a large hangar on the estate grounds.
Through the viewport, Crion could see a small group of people waiting. Xanatos noticed them as well and let out an irritated sigh as he motioned for Soren.
"Please see to those waiting. Tell them I will be in my office shortly to attend to any urgent matters requiring my direct attention."
"Yes, Sir."
Xanatos waited until the hangar emptied before standing.
"Shall we?" he offered.
Crion followed him out off the ship, making the short trip to the house as Xanatos explained the layout of the estate. "Offworld offices are to the north at the main gate. This is our residence."
They transversed the halls, Xanatos pointing out various rooms as they went. As with any mission, Crion did his best to construct a mental map of his location so that he was aware of his surroundings. Xanatos finally came to a stop in front of a door, pausing to finally ask. "What do you think?"
"It's nice," Crion said in his best diplomatic voice.
"That doesn't sound like the brutal honesty I was warned about?" Xanatos chided.
"And I said that you're not ready for that."
"Try me …" Xanatos insisted.
"Fine … don't you think it's a bit much … a tremendous waste of space for one or even two people?" Crion asked.
"A typical Jedi response … nothing shocking there," Xanatos observed. "Now, place your hand on the consol."
Crion did as asked and the door slid open to reveal a large suite, set up with a sitting area and a private room and refresher off to the side – his new home, he realized.
Xanatos' comlink began to chime. A muffled curse fell easily from the fallen Jedi's lips as he plucked the offending device from his belt.
"I am going to leave you to get settled while I put out a few fires in the office," Xanatos said. "I realize this has all happened quickly and that while I have had time to prepare for it you have not. If you would like to record messages for friends, I will see that they are sent."
"And one to my master?"
"Not at this time …"
"Why not?"
"I would like to see how you adjust before I make a decision on whether or not to allow you contact," Xanatos said with a firm tone that warned against any challenge … or dared him to challenge … Crion wasn't sure.
"So, I assume all my personal messages will be screened from now on."
"That is up to you. You told me that respect is earned – the same is true of trust and I hope that I can trust you."
Xanatos comlink chimed again, earning an icy glare. Crion was certain that whoever was on the other end was about to get the tongue lashing of his or her life.
"I will be back to get you for evening meal and we can talk more then. I have questions and I am sure you many as well." Xanatos turned to leave. "Oh, and you will find something suitable to wear that should fit in the closet."
"Suitable?"
"Not Jedi tunics."
"Fine, but I am not giving up my saber."
"I would hope not," Xanatos said with a smile as he exited the room.
Crion glanced around the room, rubbing a hand across his face as his father left the room. He eyed the communications panel and decided that he best make use of the offer to send messages to Key'an and Sienn. There would be time to explore later.
Obi-Wan stood outside the large doors leading into the Council chambers, pausing to compose himself one last time before entering. He leaned forward to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the polished metal, hoping he really didn't look that bad.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, Master," he replied as both Jedi masters step through the door, side by side.
It took every ounce of Obi-Wan's Jedi reserve to keep from reacting to the holographic image of Xanatos Marojni standing in the middle of the Council room.
The faces of the Council members were shuttered, though Mace looked highly displeased. Master Yoda's face was pensive but sad. His attention shifted as Obi-Wan drew near.
"Arrived Master Kenobi has."
Xanatos turned, his eyes drifting from Obi-Wan and coming to rest on taller man standing beside him. Narrowed eyes were the only greeting he offered his former mentor before he focused on Obi-Wan.
"Master Kenobi, Crion will be delighted to hear that you have arrived safely home as promised."
"Where is Crion?"
"Settling into his room. I have given him leave to send messages to his friends so I am sure he is busy at the moment." Xanatos let out a deep breath. "I am sure we are all busy so I will get to the point. I could have simply relayed this to the Council but they insisted on waiting for you."
"I am here now."
"I can see that," Xanatos snapped back before turning to address the Council. "I need for Crion's academic and medical records be sent to me."
"Understand that we will need to edit out of his medical records what is confidential to certain missions."
"Of course."
"In case he forgets to tell you," Obi-Wan began. "He is allergic to sai root …"
"It makes him break out in hives and vomit violently," Xanatos interrupted, a strange smile tugging at his lips. "I had the misfortune of feeding it to him for the first time." The fallen Jedi shook his head, brushing off the nostalgic moment. "Master Kenobi, if you could send any personal items along, I know Crion would be grateful. His friends are welcome to return the messages sent to them."
"What about other communication?"
"I will be in touch when I feel he is ready."
The transmission blinked out abruptly, and Obi-Wan found himself struggling to compose himself, certain the eyes of all twelve Council members were on him.
"Did he speak of the documents he sent?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Only to say that what he had presented was final and the terms were not open for discussion," Mace answered.
"Our hope lies in making a case," Obi-Wan murmured, reaching up to rub his face. He felt strangely weary again. "I will put the information Xanatos requested together and see that it gets to him."
Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder pushed him from the Council chambers. He barely recalled making the journey back to his former master's quarters.
"I need to gather Crion's things," Obi-Wan said, pausing at the door.
"After a meal."
"I am really not very hungry …"
"You need to eat something."
There it was again – the master-to-padawan tone that Obi-Wan instinctively could not refuse despite being five years into his knighthood and having an apprentice of his own.
The door slid open. Anakin sat on the couch, strangely still and obviously deep in thought.
"Is something wrong Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Crion sent me a message." He shrugged. "I think Obi-Wan needs to listen to it, especially to the end."
Qui-Gon offered Obi-Wan a slight smile, nodding toward the communications consol as he steered Anakin away. "I will go prepare something to eat."
Obi-Wan sat at the communications consol for a moment before activating the transmission. Even though it had only been a couple of days, there was something instantly reassuring about seeing Crion well.
"Hi Skywalker."
Crion sighed, reaching a hand up to massage the back of his neck. Obi-Wan instantly recognized the telltale signs of exhaustion clinging to his apprentice.
"You need sleep, Padawan," he murmured.
"So, I am sure Obi-Wan has already told you that I met my father. He's sort of an obsessive control freak who has had a little too much time and money on his hands, which basically means I won't be back for a while."
Crion glanced away, probably toward the door to the room.
"My father is allowing me to contact friends but not my master so you are going to have to let him know I am alive, in one piece and all that. And I need you to take care of Master … I know you will. I don't know, maybe let him help you with katas and sparring … mouth off and be a little irreverent and tell him it's from me."
Crion laughed light, stopping to take a deep breath. His expression changed to a bit more stern.
"I still expect you to stay out of trouble, Brat. The padawan rumor mill is going to be working overtime. Bror will say it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. He may even say that I betrayed Master Obi-Wan to be with my father. That's not true. I am here to protect my Master, and Master Qui-Gon and Master Yoda. Ignore anyone who says otherwise. I've never cared about my reputation and you shouldn't care about it either. I promise to wipe the floor with you when I get back if I hear of you fighting."
A smile broke through the stern façade as he added one final thought.
"Here's hoping to see you sooner rather than later."
Obi-Wan allowed himself a smile, pleased that Anakin had thought to share even the small message of a friend with him. He reached to turn off the transmission, pausing when he noticed it had not ended.
Crion sat there, deliberation heavy in his eyes as he fingered the sleeve of his robe. The signs of hesitancy were slight. Finally, he seemed to make his decision.
"You know, Anakin. He is not what I was expecting. It's almost like he's afraid I won't buy into the whole father-son thing and reject him. He's confident one minute – backtracking the next."
The teenager slid down in his chair a little, crossing his arms across his chest as his brow furrowed in thought. The whole tone of his message seemed to change.
"Maybe he's been planning this for so long that he's not sure what to do with me now that he has me here. We've already butt heads. I guess that's to be expected with what I've heard about him and with me being … well me.
"Always your own toughest critic, Padawan," Obi-Wan said softly. "You're easier to get along with than you think."
"I could use my master's wisdom right now. I spent the whole trip here meditating and have a feeling I will be doing a lot more of it."
"Trust in the Force," Obi-Wan murmured softly, pleased and proud that Crion was already seeking its guidance. The boy glanced back toward the door.
"I should say goodbye now."
The message ended this time. After the meal being forced on him, Obi-Wan decided that he would pack up Crion's belongings. He would giving the reassurance and wisdom Crion and reached out for and hide it well within the package.
He was suddenly aware of Anakin standing behind him. One of the boys lop-sided grins tugged at his lips. "He calls me Skywalker or Brat – never Anakin. It sounded like he started to someone else … I thought he might … I don't know."
"Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan answered.