COUNCIL OF CHANGE
by ardavenport
- - - Part 2
The lift doors opened.
"Oh, Master Kenobi, I'm so glad you've returned!" an effeminate voice exclaimed as they exited the lift. Qui-Gon stared up at an extremely battered protocol droid. Next to him, Obi-Wan seemed to be blushing.
"I'm sorry, Master. Shmi Skywalker insisted that I bring Anakin's droid back with me."
"Oh, yes, she was most particular that I should deliver her felicitations to her son. And she thought that I may be of some assistance to you, Master Qui-Gon, after hearing about your most unfortunate circumstances." The droid gave him a little bow.
Qui-Gon stared back, appalled at the idea of being followed around by a shambling droid that his Padawan had put together from spare parts. It was a little more finished than the last time he'd seen it. It had faded gold body and limb covers now, old and dented in places with a few conspicuous grease dribbles.
"I'm sure that won't be necessary..."
"C3PO, at your service," it prompted.
"3PO?" They all looked at the sound of the young voice coming up from the wide stairs leading down to the hall below. Anakin Skywalker, in a pale tunic and tabards, his outfit an almost exact copy of his Master's, stared, open mouthed at his former project. Then he ran up the last few steps and crossed the patterned floor to them and hugged the droid. Anakin was a bit talker than he had been when left the droid behind on Tatooine and for a moment Qui-Gon thought he would knock it over, but the machine managed to stay on its feet.
"Master Anakin! Oh dear. Oh dear." The droid held its human-shaped arms out, its hands fluttering. Its face was a perfect blank of round, glowing eye sensors and square audio-mouth, but it managed to express enthusiasm with some bobbling bows when Anakin released it. Immediately, the boy looked toward Obi-Wan.
"I asked Obi-Wan to inquire about your mother," Qui-Gon told him. "Apparently she is doing very well. But I wasn't expecting her to send a 'gift'." He eyed C3PO dubiously. Obi-Wan covered his mouth and looked away, unsuccessfully trying to be subtle about his amusement. The droid launched into it's own narrative of Shmi Skywalker while her son listening intently, but his expression changed from joy to shock and then doubt when he heard about the marriage. Qui-Gon did not like the look he saw on his young Padawan's face; he would speak to him later about it.
"Anakin," Qui-Gon interrupted. "Perhaps you can take C3PO here to Droid Maintenance. I'm sure the Temple will make good use him."
"Oh, but Sir, I've been expecting to serve you. Mistress Shmi–"
"That would be great," Anakin interrupted. "It takes him forever to get dressed in the morning," Anakin confided rather bluntly.
"I use that time for my meditation, young one." Qui-Gon saw the same look of impatience he always got from Anakin when the subject of his infirmities came up. Obi-Wan remained silent, still trying to be discreet about smiling.
Qui-Gon knew that Anakin Skywalker would have eagerly helped the medical droids pick out and service prosthetic replacements for his Master's missing limbs, but Qui-Gon could not bear the idea of wielding a lightsaber through a dead, mechanical appendage. He could not even bear allowing the neural implants necessary for fully functioning limbs. Qui-Gon was hardly the only Jedi to refuse bio-mechanical enhancements, but he did have the most extensive injuries that the Med Center had dealt with in some time. The most he had allowed the medical droids to do was fit him with hard metal and plastic 'feet' and an 'arm', but they were simple mechanical tools of springs and levers, with no power sources, no electronics, no internal computers at all and especially no implants. He exercised and fought with them (he'd begun experimenting training without them with mixed success) though he only used his saber left-handed. He could even walk around the Temple with them, but he didn't since he was ridiculously short standing in them, barely half of Obi-Wan's height, and he would be forced to cut the length of his robe.
"We will determine C3PO's status later," he told his apprentice. He privately vowed that C3PO would never set foot in his room. Jedi were forbidden personal possessions and he would use that prohibition to keep it away from him, but Anakin's considerable talents could be put to good use fixing it. "In the meantime, I am sure it would benefit from some overdue maintenance." The droid heartily agreed. Anakin's keen eyes were already sizing up C3PO for an overhaul as he led it away.
Qui-Gon then critically turned to his former pupil. Obi-Wan feigned innocence as he strolled next to him down the wide stairway to the great hall, light shining in from the tall windows from Coruscant and the gray top of the Temple. Qui-Gon's irritation over the droid diminished as he acknowledged the mirth in Obi-Wan's young, blue eyes. The older Jedi turned his float chair toward one of the windows and Obi-Wan followed. They stood together in a square of sunlight, completely insulated from the noise and bustle outside, looking out over the city and its ever present air traffic.
Obi-Wan folded his arms before him and then began to stroke his thick, brown beard, a new and unique gesture that he had acquired since becoming a full Knight. Qui-Gon was not inclined to stroking his own, now graying, beard. He sat up straight in the float chair, his own blue eyes looking sideways up at the younger man, silently asking what else he had on his mind.
"Qui-Gon," he began. "I know that you suspect Count Dooku of being that Sith Lord that we've been looking for–"
"No, Obi-Wan," he corrected. "I believe he is the apprentice. The new apprentice who replaced the one you killed. We have yet to determine who the Master is." He turned his chair to Obi-Wan. "Everyone on the Council acknowledges now the danger of the Sith, the shadow of the Dark Side, yet no one can devise it's source, though all of us have meditated deeply on it."
"You think that the Sith are responsible for the increasing strife in the Republic?"
"A climate of strife would suit the Sith very well, Obi-Wan, no matter who is fighting for what cause. Even if it is for a just cause, the fight itself serves the Sith's purposes."
"But what else are we to do? We must oppose them. We must defend the Republic."
Qui-Gon's lips curled in a small, sad smile. "Must we Obi-Wan? The Republic has stood for a mere millennium, what is that compared to the Force? All things change. The Jedi seem to have forgotten that."
Obi-Wan stepped back out of their square of sunlight, his blue eyes wide with shock. But Qui-Gon did not feel discouraged by it. Obi-Wan had responded exactly the same way when Qui-Gon had first confided in him about his suspicions about Dooku. Obi-Wan and the whole Council had resisted his idea that a Vergence in the Force centered on Anakin when he had first found the boy, yet now Anakin was his Padawan and the possibility that he might be the Chosen One, prophesied to bring balance to the Force, was accepted.
Qui-Gon was now certain that the Sith had political power in the Senate that possibly reached all the way up to the Chancellor's office. And if it went that far, then the Jedi could no longer defend the Republic for they would also be instruments of the Sith, an unimaginable paradox, but now a real possibility to Qui-Gon. They could not fight such an enemy without becoming part of a political struggle; the Jedi were sworn to neutrality. If this were so, Qui-Gon knew he would have to leave Coruscant, but as a member of the Jedi Council he would take whole Jedi Order with him if he could.
He patiently waited for the younger man to absorb his latest outrageous idea. Obi-Wan seemed to choke down the possibility and regain at least the surface appearance of calm. He stepped back toward Qui-Gon.
"I was thinking of taking on a Padawan," he announced, changing the subject, yet also giving a reason why he might resist the extreme possibility that Qui-Gon hinted at.
"Aaaaah." Qui-Gon smiled up at Obi-Wan, pleased by this news, and letting the conversation move on to something that the younger man was more comfortable with. "Do you have anyone in mind? Anyone I would know?"
"A young girl, Dyen Mavis. She is very strong with the Force." Since his injury and being appointed to the Council, Qui-Gon spent nearly all of his time at the Temple and he regularly saw and instructed the younger, un-apprenticed Padawans, but he did not recognize the name.
"I shall certainly take note of her," he answered amiably. "With a new Padawan, you will be at the Temple more and able to assist me in my...inquiries." Qui-Gon gently turned the topic back to his own interests.
"I am all but certain that Dooku tampered with the Archives, to conceal some of his activities. Unfortunately the Archivists seem to think this is an impossibility and they have been most unhelpful. Perhaps you could negotiate your way around this problem?"
Obi-Wan bowed to him. "I'm always available to assist you, Master." Qui-Gon nodded back, feeling great pride and gratitude for the support. Even with his doubts, Obi-Wan Kenobi's loyalty was nearly as reliable as the Force itself.
Obi-Wan turned back to gaze out the window again and the city scape beyond.
"Do you think that this will all change? Soon?"
Qui-Gon had long meditated about where his inquires were leading. When he had first sensed the Vergence in the Force about Anakin he had never even considered the idea that bringing balance to the Force might entail huge upheavals, and might even require the oncoming conflict with the Sith. That oversight now seemed hopelessly naive to him now. All paths led to change, massive, unprecedented, possibly violent change, for the Jedi and for the whole galaxy. Qui-Gon accepted change; it was the way of living things, the way of the Living Force.
"I am certain of it."
End
(This story first posted on tf.n: 26-Mar-2008)