Charisasori - It is too bad that the Council and Xanatos can't come to an understanding (like that's going to happen) as the situation could really get out of control.
Chapter 25
It was probably the sloppiest framing job ever done – a youngling could have done better. Paste, which would most assuredly dry in lumps, oozed out from beneath the uneven edges of a piece of flimsi covering the back of the frame. Obi-Wan looked down at what was likely the shoddiest piece of craftsmanship he had ever seen with satisfaction. It would definitely capture his meticulously neat padawan's attention.
The Jedi master flipped the frame around and took one last glance at the painting inside. Crion had given it to him as a lifeday gift, remembering his master's fondness of the gentle landscapes of Reta III on a mission there. From what Anakin had told him, Crion had spent a great amount of his saved up credits having the painting professionally set in a quality frame. Obi-Wan stole a glance over at that frame, now resting empty on the floor. Hopefully, Crion would understand.
Obi-Wan sensed Qui-Gon approaching his quarters. It appeared his timing had been perfect.
"Come in," he called before the door even chimed.
The door swished open and Qui-Gon entered as Obi-Wan set the painting down on some packing material and began to wrap it, something that didn't go unnoticed.
"It looks like your parcel is just about ready, then," Qui-Gon hinted in a tone of voice that sounded like he wanted to say more.
"I am just adding the final item," Obi-Wan answered.
"I can see that." Qui-Gon's lips twisted into a slight frown before he abandoned his subtlety. "You love that painting. Don't you think Crion will wonder why you have sent it back to him?"
"I am counting on it." Obi-Wan began to close up the small shipping crate.
Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "And just what are you up to?"
Obi-Wan couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Was it an un-Jedi-like sentiment to be proud of one's own cleverness?
"I am simply trying to communicate with my apprentice. I have hidden a handwritten letter in the back of that frame." Obi-Wan paused, resting his hands on the now sealed crate. "I want him to know I haven't abandoned him."
"You need not be concerned that he will think that."
"I know." Obi-Wan shrugged his shoulders in an uncertain gesture he hadn't displayed since still a padawan. "Perhaps it is more that I feel helpless and I had to do something." Obi-Wan let out a slight chuckle. "I worry about him …"
Obi-Wan's comlink chimed. He paused mid sentence, calling the device to his hand. Perhaps the Council had news for him. "Kenobi," he answered.
"Master Kenobi," a young padawan answered. "The Chancellor's office has just contacted the Temple and it seems the Chancellor has requested an audience with you."
"Go ahead and schedule an appointment," Obi-Wan replied, raising an eyebrow toward his master.
"But, Master Kenobi, Chancellor Palpatine would like to see you immediately."
"Inform his office that I am on my way." Obi-Wan shut of his comlink and paused, directing a questioning glance toward his master. "I wonder what he wants."
"Anakin went to see him today. Perhaps he told Chancellor Palpatine what has happened."
"Perhaps," Obi-Wan murmured.
"I will send this off while you go," Qui-Gon said, gaining a nod in response.
Palpatine sat, elbows resting on his desk and his chin resting on folded hands. The latest news from Anakin had given him much to contemplate. His musings were interrupted by the warmth and light in the Force that was Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi.
It was repulsive the one individual could so cling to the Light.
"The Chancellor will see you now," Palpatine heard his young receptionist say from the other room.
The politician looked up as Kenobi entered, pasting a quite genuine-looking smile on his face as he stood. "Ah, Master Kenobi. I am glad you could come on such short notice and at such a late hour. Please have a seat."
"Your Excellency." Obi-Wan bowed before taking the seat offered. "What can I do for you?"
Palpatine sat down, taking a brief moment to study his guest. Though the Jedi's shields were strong, overt suspicion radiated through the young man's aura. Palpatine might have worried that Kenobi suspected something if it weren't for Anakin's endless prattle concerning the Jedi master's distrust of politicians. Palpatine didn't blame him. He didn't trust politicians either, and it only spoke volumes of the Jedi's growing reputation for wisdom in one so young.
"I regret that we have not spoken more since Naboo," Palpatine finally offered kindly. True, they had not spoken, but Palpatine had watched the young knight as closely as he had watched Anakin. "What you did for my people in dispatching that creature …"
"I was doing nothing more than my duty … no more than any Jedi …"
"Nonsense, my young friend."
Kenobi's humility was intriguing. Defeating Maul was no easily task and according to Anakin, the young knight had even earned the moniker of "Sith killer" among his Jedi brethren. Yet he continued to shun the praise and consider it duty.
Palpatine found himself watching the young man again, contemplating how the Force hummed around him, almost protectively like a mother watching over a dear child. The Light sensed what he was even if the Jedi before him didn't.
The first Jedi to kill a Sith in a millennium, indeed. Kenobi was skilled and powerful in the Force. He had been an obvious choice, a more than deserving replacement for Maul, yet Palpatine had found no leverage to gain influence over him. Whereas Anakin had flocked to his attention and praise, Kenobi had graciously declined audiences, pointing to his master's health, and then the newly-minted knight had all but disappeared on a continuous string of missions.
"Are you well, You Excellency?"
Palpatine cursed beneath his breath, he had allowed himself to become lost in thought. He had once considered the man sitting before him incorruptible, completely devoted to the Light and the Jedi Order. He knew that Kenobi would have to be turned or die – the dark side insisted on it. And now, after years of finding no weakness, no chink in the Jedi's armor, he had a means.
"Forgive me. It has been a long day. I will get to the purpose of why I asked you here."
Kenobi couldn't have looked more pleased.
"Anakin has alerted me to the status of your apprentice. The poor boy was quite distraught, concerned about both you and a friend he obviously holds in high regard."
"Crion and Anakin have become close over the past few years." Obi-Wan reached up and massaged his temples, the first sign that he was not as composed internally as the infuriating Jedi façade would suggest. The very mention of his current situation seemed to weaken him. Weariness seeped from the young man's continence, frustration and worry flowing into the Force in one continuous breath. Palpatine wondered if even the Council sensed the fragility that now rested behind those shields.
"I am sorry if Anakin has bothered you," Kenobi offered politely.
"It is no bother." Palpatine offered his best warm smile. "In fact, I would like to help if I can."
"I am not sure there is much you can do, Your Excellency," Obi-Wan said grimly. "I do not know what Anakin has told you, but the Council has presented the situation to several attorneys. It is difficult to get around the legal fact that my apprentice was taken in by the Order as a small child without his father's knowledge and consent."
"But Anakin suggested that the boy was in danger."
"Yes, but it is the sort of danger that would be hard to prove in the courts. We have his mother's testimony recorded that she feared for her life, and that is it." The Jedi knight let out a resigned sigh. "The main reason the Jedi took him in was out of concern that his father would train him in the Dark side of the Force. It is hard to build a case on moral danger."
"Dark." Palpatine feigned ignorance, for he knew the dark side very well. "I seem to remember that in association with that creature you destroyed on Naboo."
"Yes, the Sith are of the Dark side of the Force," Kenobi replied.
"Oh my! Is your apprentice in danger of becoming like that thing?"
The words that seemed hastily spoken had been carefully crafted and were meant to be a weapon. A slight grimace on the young man's face was the only evidence that they had been effective, stabbing and twisting like a shiv.
"He is strong and I have trained him well in the short time he has been an apprentice, but he is still an impressionable boy who has much to learn before he is ready to face the Dark side."
"Believe me when I say that I shall do all that I can. It is the least I can do after all you have done for my homeworld," Palpatine assured him, reaching across the desk to rest his hand on the Jedi's. "I have access to some of the best legal minds in the galaxy. Send me what you have and we shall see what they can make of it. "
"Any help is greatly appreciated," Kenobi answered almost numbly, quickly pulling his hand away as he stood to offer a stiff bow. "Thank you."
"You are quite welcome."
The fatherly concern on the Sith lord's face bled into a malicious grin as the Jedi left. Kenobi was obviously ill at ease with accepting a favor from the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. However, desperation and grief had flawed his usual wisdom. It was very unfortunate … for him.
Bare footed on the training mat, Crion took in a deep breath as he sought out focus and clarity. A brisk run across the Offworld estate had been a welcome relief. Fresh air, full of the scents of life was always a welcome change to the over-scrubbed, recirculated feel of the Coruscanti atmosphere. He only wished his master were here with him to share in the beauty Telos had to offer.
With another deep breath, he ignited his saber. He needed to continue to train so as to not fall too far behind. Force only knew how much he would have to make up when he returned to the Temple. He might set a record for the oldest padawan in Jedi history.
The first steps through the kata – those he had worked on with his master - were simple and well practiced. He then proceeded into the more unfamiliar, feeling the first twinges of frustration as he misstepped. The next steps came too close together. He nearly tripped himself but quickly gained his footing and composure.
"That wasn't my best – back to the beginning," he murmured to himself as he assumed the opening stance again.
He began once more, trying to block out a presence that was becoming annoying familiar as he roughly worked though the steps and finally ended with a shaky hold on his focus.
"It's a new kata for you?" Xanatos asked.
"What was your first clue?" Crion bit back.
"Ah, the sarcasm is back. And here, I thought we had made some progress over dinner."
Crion shot him an icy look, earning a resigned sigh.
"I would like to help," Xanatos offered, hands stretched in a gesture of surrender. "Remember, I did have to master all of this at one time."
Crion closed his eyes, trying to block out the distraction as he took the opening stance yet again.
"You wouldn't want to be too far behind when you return to the Temple after your eighteenth life day."
Crion's eyes snapped open, disbelief apparently etched on his face. It earned a chuckle from his father.
"I would have to question whether you were really my son if you hadn't picked out that particular loophole," Xanatos said. "I assume it was the only reason you agreed to come – that you could put up with me for two years if you had to?"
"Why go through all this trouble to only have me here for two years?"
"I only want the chance to get to know you."
The desperation was truly beginning to wear on Crion's nerves. "I can't decide if you really care or if you are just plain delusional."
"Or maybe both," Xanatos offered nonchalantly. "But now I have a question for you."
"What?"
"Can you defend yourself?"
The attack came quickly, Xanatos lunging forward with a powerful downward stroke of his saber. Crion barely had time to defend.
"Not fair," the teen ground out. "You gave me no warning."
Crion pushed back twinges of fear at recognizing the paler beam of a saber on a low setting. It wasn't a true attack. Still, he found the crimson glow unsettling.
"The enemy is not always going to fight fair," Xanatos said sternly as he rained down blow after blow. His style was aggressive and efficient, something which didn't surprise Crion.
The Jedi padawan allowed himself to be backed across the floor. A casual observer might judge him to be on the losing end of the battle already, but Obi-Wan had schooled him well in the art of giving up ground and waiting for a duel to come around to his advantage. Obi-Wan had trained him in endurance and patience. Everyone eventually made a mistake, especially those who were overconfident.
Crion used the time to study his opponent. In all actuality, it reminded him of dueling Anakin – a more mature and less impulsive version. In fact, he welcomed the challenge of training against someone without Jedi reserve. Only a few times had he seen it in the Temple, his master against Master Windu and again against Master Vos.
The duel continued, father backing son across the floor.
"Do you ever attack?" Xanatos finally asked, clearly annoyed at the monotony.
A smile tugged at Crion's lips. He could go on like this for hours.
"Only when it benefits me," Crion ground out as their sabers met, sizzling and sparking against each other. "Usually right at the end – which means you've already lost."
"Is that so?" Xanatos asked, using a Force push to distance himself from his son.
The push sent Crion into the padded wall. He reached for his saber and began to get up only to pause, a grin tugging at his lips. Instead of rejoining the fight, he laid down on the ground still and waited.
Footsteps first stalked him cautiously. "I didn't push you that hard." Uncertainty colored his father's tones.
Xanatos came a little bit closer, but Crion stayed perfectly still.
Crion?"
The Jedi remained silent. He sensed a spike in anxiety and heard a saber disengage and fall before hurried footsteps closed the distance between them. As his father neared, Crion kicked out and scissored Xanatos' legs, dropping his opponent to the ground. In a flash, Crion rolled to his feet, the tip of his saber at his father's throat.
"Never let your guard down," Crion said in very deliberate tones.
"Does that little trick usually work for you?" Xanatos spat out in irritation.
"Only once," Crion boasted.
"It's hardly fair."
"The enemy is not always going to fight fair," Crion spouted back smugly.
Xanatos paused for a moment before laughing, something that surprised Crion. "So true."
The former Jedi got to his feet, reaching up to rub where his head had made contact with the mat. "It's late and I am still buried under a pile of reports. I will leave you to your katas and hope for a fair rematch soon."
Xanatos offered a bow. Crion hesitated before returning the bow.
"Good night, Son."
Xanatos departed through the door leaving Crion with a gnawing sense of unease. Was is simply the thrill of the challenge or had he actually enjoyed his father's company. Was he losing himself? Was this all a part of Xanatos' greater plan to win him over?
As he hurried back to his room, Crion decided to meditate on his next course of action. He needed to heed his own advice and not let his guard down again.