So sorry to be so long in posting an update. I am a teacher and this semester has been incredibly busy so far.

Chapter 24

Crion tipped his head forward against the side of the shower stall allowing jets of hot water to beat down on shoulders still stiff from the trip to Telos. While he had often watched his master sit in the same spot without moving for hours, such contentment with being still was something he had not yet achieved. Idleness definitely did not suit him. He hoped he would have freedom enough for a brisk run around the Offworld grounds or permission to use the gym he had spied during Xanatos' abbreviated tour of the residence. Otherwise, it would take every ounce of Jedi patience he possessed to keep from feeling like a caged animal.

The Jedi padawan shut off the water and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he stepped from the shower and started off in search of the "more suitable" clothing Xanatos had mentioned. He paused a moment at the closet door, desperately hoping there was more to choose from than black. As it turned out there was a wide variety to choose from. On the left side were blacks, browns, blues and grays and even some more colorful items were he to feel more adventuresome. On the right side of the closet were cloaks and boots of varying styles and colors. He was suddenly overwhelmed. It occurred to him that he had never actually had to "decide what to wear" before. His daily attire had always been a foregone conclusion.

Crion pushed past the darker colors. Though it would probably make Xanatos' day, he had no desire to be his father's twin. Instead, he chose a pair of brown trousers and a cream-colored shirt – his subtle message that he was still a Jedi. Both fit perfectly, making Crion suspicious of how his father had figured out exactly what his size was. Lastly, he pulled back on his own boots.

The young Jedi looked in the mirror on the closet door. It was the near proper image of a civilian. He needed a haircut as his padawan style was not going to work for his present circumstances. He pushed down a flare of resentment as he fingered the area now lacking his braid.

Crion returned to the sitting room to wait, his attention draw to the shelf full of holos that he had noticed upon first entering the room. One by one he began to activate them. Apparently, he had been quite chubby as a baby. There was plenty of evidence of that. Someone – and he could guess who – seemed to have been obsessed with taking holos of him. There were images of him outside playing, sleeping in his crib, of him as a toddler with chocolate smeared all over this face, and on and on. Xanatos was in some of them, younger of course, but it was surprising how little he had changed in appearance.

At the end of the line, a well-worn pale blue blanket was folded and lying on the shelf. It was incredibly soft to the touch, likely woven from an expensive and very fine yarn. Crion rubbed the fringe between his fingers, wondering if the flare of familiarity was all in his imagination. Of course it was. He had been too young to remember any of this life.

There was one last holo on a shelf above. It was larger than the others and was of a young, frail-looking woman holding him. Xanatos was behind her, his arms draped loosely around her shoulders. Crion's sight stayed transfixed on the young woman. He had never seen an image of his mother before though Qui-Gon had told him much of her bravery and love for him. He could see that quiet determination and love shining in the eyes that looked down at the baby in the image.

Crion suddenly found himself wondering what had gone so terribly wrong. It was becoming clearer that he needed the answer to one basic and complex question – who is Xanatos Marojni. To do that, he decided that he might have to play along for the time being.

A gentle chime rang near the door. Crion answered.

"Evening meal is ready," came Xanatos' voice. "Can you find your way?"

Crion reached out with his senses, picking out his father's presence not too far way.

"Yes, I can find you."

Time had come to a complete standstill, at least in Xanatos' mind. How long had it been? The evening had started on a note of excitement with Mia announcing that it was time. She was in labor.

Everything had gone down from there, culminating in him being shoved from the delivery room. Only his concern for the young woman who carried his child had kept him from acting on the indignation he had felt.

A nearby door slid open and Xanatos looked up quickly, elated to see someone useful – Mia's doctor. He began to probe the emotions hidden behind the professional mask for some clue as to what expect. The former Jedi had not felt Mia or the baby pass away which gave him hope.

"How is she?" Xanatos clipped impatiently.

"Mia is stable," the doctor replied in the steady tone.

It was a tone of voice that reminded Xanatos of the healers in the Jedi temple and brought back unwelcome memories of close calls and of long nights sitting by the bedside of a battered Qui-Gon Jinn. It was a tone that had taught him that 'stable' usually translated into 'barely alive'.

"We will know more after the next 24 hours and then we can allow you in to see her."

"Of course." Xanatos nodded as he reached up to rub tired eyes.

"There is someone I would like you to meet," the doctor said.

He went back the door and accepted a squirming bundle from one of the nurses. As the doctor leaned forward to deposit the baby into his arms, Xanatos froze.

"I really don't know if I should …"

"Relax," the doctor chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first terrified new father I have seen. Your son needs you right now. He's been inexplicably fussy since birth."

Xanatos accepted the squawking bundle, immediately noting the strong Force presence and small ripples of disturbance the fearful and angry cries were pumping into the Force. "He's Force sensitive," Xanatos murmured in wonder. "He probably senses Mia's distress."

"Well, then I will leave him in your capable hands," the doctor said before leaving the pair alone.

"Shhh," the new father cooed softly. "Your mother is a strong and fierce woman. She will be just fine," he explained more for his benefit than that of his son.

Xanatos had not had much experience with children. As a Jedi, he had been sent on a few trips with his master to bring infants back to the Temple and quite clearly remembered the annoyance he felt at one of the order's most formidable teams being sent to 'babysit'. Fortunately, Qui-Gon was all too willing to coo and fuss over the small bundles all the way back to the Temple, something which had suited the teenager just fine. Suddenly, he wished he had paid more attention, a sentiment he found more than a little alarming.

He remembered something about infants needing security and remembered sensing his master's warm soothing through the Force.

Xanatos worked to calm his own racing thoughts and emotions. He then eased up on his mental shielding and touched his son's mind, exuding a sense of calm and peace. The crying dulled to soft whimpers before stopping. Xanatos looked down to find a set of sleepy blue eyes struggling to focus on him.

"That's better, Crion," he said as the baby finally stopped fighting and gave into the sleep that beckoned him.

Xanatos tried to calm racing emotions as he sensed his son approach his private suite, the one place besides his Offworld office where Xanatos spent most his time. He sat down at the table, trying to look casual as he heard Crion knock. A slight wave of his hand opened the door.

Xanatos raised an eyebrow, noting his son's attire. The teenager had chosen to look as much like a Jedi as possible but at least he was in civilian clothes. Tense posture and discrete glances around the room told Xanatos that Crion was orienting himself to his surroundings, acting exactly as Jedi. Unfortunately, his behavior indicated that he was treating dinner as a hostile situation. Xanatos let out a sigh.

"Take off your boots. Make yourself comfortable," the formed Jedi chided. "There is no need for formality here."

"I would have expected to eat in the dining room," Crion said as he pulled off his boots and approached the small table that had been set for two.

"It's too cold for family."

"So, with this large home, you essentially only live in this one suite?" the teenager inquired.

"Yes."

A slight grimace accompanied by a quick furrowing of eyebrows gave Xanatos a sort of unspoken remark. The Jedi in the boy before him still considered his home a tremendous waste of space and wealth.

"Yes, I could happily live in a small apartment, but somehow it doesn't have the same effect when I host other intergalactic businessmen."

"So this is all about maintaining proper illusion," Crion murmured sarcastically.

"We all create proper illusions," Xanatos began. "The Jedi with their detachment from possessions could quite easily live and conduct themselves inhabiting worn out tenements in the lower levels of Coruscant, yet the Temple sits on prime real estate on Coruscant with spires that reach to the clouds. Robes, tunics, lightsabers – all create a necessary persona that commands respect throughout the galaxy."

"Perhaps," Crion said, finally take a place at the table.

"You will need to let the kitchen know some of your favorite meals," Xanatos said as the two began to eat.

"I am grateful for whatever is served," Crion replied with Jedi politeness as though at a banquet hosted by some dignitary.

"Of course you are," Xanatos forced back. "But you do have favorites."

Awkward silence followed as both ate their meals. Xanatos decided he would prefer outright confrontation to the form of silent defiance his son was currently employing. He waited until they had finished eating and then motioned for them to retire to a common area.

"We still know very little about each other and I was hoping we could talk this evening," Xanatos began with uneasiness, knowing he was about to open himself up to attack. "I am sure you have heard some about me already. While I don't believe your master and Master Qui-Gon would blatantly lie to you, I am sure there was a certain amount of bias in what they have told you."

"Bias?" Crion asked with something akin to amusement. "What sort of bias can there be in accounts of a padawan betraying his master or of a former Jedi forcing a 13-year-old boy into slave labor on a mining platform? It either happened or it didn't."

"You would be surprised," Xanatos replied, failing to keep the edge out of his voice. He took a deep breath, knowing he needed to control his temper. "My hope is for us to take a page from Master Jinn's book and live in the moment, leave the past behind us. Do you think it is possible for you to form an objective opinion on me based on the man I have become … not the man I was nearly twenty years ago? That's where bias comes in to play."

"You're not off to a good start," Crion said slowly shaking his head for emphasis. "You have threatened my master and the Order I consider my family … you have forced my hand into coming with you… you have twisted things to your own advantage which sounds pretty much like the Xanatos Marojni I have heard about."

"I had no choice," Xanatos shot back. "What was I to do? Approach a Council that has written me off as fallen … evil … and ask for visitation rights to my son. I can just picture that Council meeting now."

The thought was really quite amusing and infuriating at the same time.

"You didn't even try," Crion accused.

"I know." It was true, Xanatos had to admit. How did he explain that the narrow-minded elite that governed the Jedi order would have refused and he would have lost the element of surprise. There were other temples they could have sent Crion too, places where they could have hidden him. "It was a risk I was unwilling to take … not when I had finally found you."

Crion seemed unconvinced.

"I wasn't the one in the wrong. As far as I am concerned, the Jedi kidnapped and hid you," Xanatos replied with firm honesty. "Besides, I am not accustomed to groveling, especially, when it won't change anything."

"Who knows … some humility might do you good …"

Xanatos tipped his head forward and massaged his temples, breathing in shaky calm. "Trust me – I have had plenty of humiliation in my life. Being bested in a duel by my master after watching him kill my father was humiliating. Standing trial for my crimes on Bandomeer was humiliating. And sitting here groveling for my son's forgiveness and giving an account of my less-than-perfect past while he undoubtedly compares me to the great and perfect Master Kenobi is certainly quite humiliating."

Crion studied him for a moment, flickers of hesitance breaking through stone-faced defiance. Xanatos wasn't sure whether he should be pleased that he had managed to silence the boy. Still, it was likely his son was just regrouping. Sure enough …

"So, what happened after Bandomeer then? Why one moment be obsessed with revenge then the next disappear?"

Xanatos reached to the table between them and activated a holo, one of only two he kept in his private quarters. He remembered the night, at a banquet dancing with Mia, significant because it was the first time he had truly felt something for her and perhaps seen her as more than a pawn. He had found out later that Soren had actually captured the moment, something about seeing his boss actually happy for once.

"True love?" Crion half-laughed. "That's really the answer you are going to go with?"

"I honestly wish I could tell you something like that – that your mother stole my heart away and saved me," Xanatos chuckled, sharing his son's amusement of the sentiment. "The truth of the matter is that life moved on. My enemies smelled blood after Bandomeer. I was in danger of ruin. By the time I had stabilized Offworld, I was deeply involved with your mother and you were on the way."

"May I?" Crion asked as he reached for the unactivated holo resting next to the one of his parents. At Xanatos' nod, he activated the image. Like the other, it was an unstaged and very significant moment Xanatos remembered from his life. He was slumped wearily in a chair. His usually crisp clothing and sleek hair both rumpled and his face was dotted with stubble.

"You look like hell," Crion pointed out.

"That night was hell … one of the longest in my life." A smile curved Xanatos' lips at the sight of the small bundle he held in his arms. "You are probably barely an hour old there. I almost lost both of you that night."

"Did you love my mother?"

"Yes," Xanatos answered without hesitation, aware of strong emotion leaking through his shields. "But I don't think I understood that, or even what love was at the time. That understanding didn't come until I had lost you both."

"Qui-Gon said that she ran away because she feared for me."

"You mother was witness to one of my darker moments," Xanatos began hesitantly. "I had just found out she was expecting. An enemy of mine sent assassins after us. I used … questionable means to get information from them before I ended their lives."

"You tortured them …"

"I did what I had to in order to protect you and your mother," Xanatos ground out unapologetically. "And I would do it again to protect you."

Crion glanced away, obviously not pleased with his father's proclamation.

"Your mother became fearful after she found out you were Force sensitive. She didn't want me to teach you to be like me," Xanatos continued, breaking eye contact. He was already bearing his soul. What was one more confession? "The more distant she grew, the tighter I reigned her in. She took you and ran, but I found her. After that, I made sure she was watched and under control at all times. I was terrified of losing you both. However, your mother was a remarkably intelligent and resourceful woman - something I loved and admired about her. She ran again. I followed her trail but it eventually it grew cold and you were both gone."

The room descended into silence again. Crion was heavily shielded, giving Xanatos no sense of his thoughts or feelings. He wasn't quite ready to look his son in the eyes.

"Thank you for agreeing to dinner," Xanatos said softly. "The rest of the evening is yours."

"What areas are off limits?"

"None," Xanatos replied. "This is your home. As long as you don't leave, you are free to go anywhere."

"Thank you," Crion replied with an informal nod before heading toward the door.

"Crion," Xanatos called, finally making eye contact again. "Your mother once told me that she hoped you would be the best of both of us. She would be both delighted and proud to see the young man you have become."