Darsant Avat

Deliberations

Qui-Gon had predicted as much, but it was still disappointing when no one supported his hopes to claim Obi-Wan as his padawan. Only Tahl did not openly reject the idea, though she was a bit skeptical of this.

"Think more on this," She encouraged him, "He is still young, and there is still time."

Time for you to find someone else.

There was certainly no time to pursue the matter immediately, because after a few more days, Qui-Gon was summoned to go on another mission off Coruscant. It was a mission with Mace, and the two were soon engrossed in the details of the mission rather than any talk of padawans and initiates.

"See, this is what I don't like. Servathi was never trained at the Temple, nor even trained, really, and she was left to gallivant with her Force powers without any guidance whatsoever among the vilest of sentients. Can we really blame her for succumbing to the Dark Side under such circumstances?"

"We've been over this, Qui-Gon…"

"Imprison her, I can understand. Re-educate her. Kill her, though? That I can't agree with."

"She's killed thousands because she was 'not guided' properly. At this point, she has already fallen, there is no turning back for her. What else can we do?"

"I don't believe that."

"I'm not going over this with you again, Qui."

"It makes no sense to me that one could go from Light to Dark, and not the other way around. That suggests that there is something more flawed about the Light Side, that those who go to the Dark never want to come back."

"Qui, we are not talking about this now."

"Well when are we going to talk about this?"

"Never, because you will never change your mind, and neither will anyone else."

Qui-Gon sighed.

"So what, we hunt her down like an animal?"

Mace did not reply instantly. "We do what needs to be done. If somehow, she is willing to talk instead of fight, then so be it, but I really doubt our powers of negotiation could convince her to allow herself to be arrested without complaint. The Dark Side does not exactly favor order, you know, and the Jedi Order is, well, orderly. Servathi is use to being on her own, making up her own rules and then breaking them. She would take to being imprisoned about as kindly as any wild animal would."

It was as much of a concession as Qui-Gon could wring out of the dark-skinned Jedi, so he let it drop.

"She doesn't discriminate between who is attacked," Mace pressed a button to open a new file, "But she does seem to prefer Force-sensitives."

"That makes us perfect bait."

"Only individually, as far as I can tell," Mace went on, "She doesn't kill more than one Force-sensitive at a time. Single individuals, on their own. The planet has enough Force-sensitives that many of them could meet each other. That's a good mode of operation for us."

Qui-Gon looked up with a perfectly neutral expression.

"So," He stated, "Who gets to rescue the other?"

OoO

It figured that Qui-Gon was a bit too audacious for his own good. After a die toss where both tried to cheat, the Force favored Mace, so he found himself wandering around the marketplace trying to appear conspicuous and weak—it did not seem like Servathi chose her victims based on physique, but it could not hurt, and as talented as Qui-Gon was at appearing large and imposing, he was also good at appearing clumsy and stupid.

They should be focused on the mission, especially Qui-Gon who was bait, but waiting around with one's senses alert could be boring.

"See," Mace's voice was soft but clear through the transmitter in his ear, "If you had a padawan, you wouldn't be able to take this mission unless you're certain he's ready for it. Of course, if you had a padawan you could throw him out there as bait and the rogues would swarm to him like flies to fresh meat."

Qui-Gon did not need to pretend to stumble at this. "I'm starting to question your teaching methods," He murmured under his breath, the sound easily transferring through bone into his ear where the speakers were. He was not afraid to mutter—on the outside it would look as if he were grunting, which fit the clumsy oaf facade.

"Are you so eager to give up your freedom?" Mace ignored his remark, "You already trained two very fine knights. Feemor is training his own padawan, and Authsola is completing missions at a pace you wouldn't believe."

Authsola had been away before they left, but Feemor, Qui-Gon's first apprentice, had been back at the temple with his padawan before Qui-Gon and Mace departed for their mission. It was a touching sight to see his former apprentice standing with his own child at his side. When Feemor had been a padawan, he was quiet like most Jedi children, very studious and hard-working, and though as a knight he grew more confident as a Jedi of equal status with most of the Order, his own padawan's demeanor was the exact replica of Feemor's as a child. Qui-Gon found the two of them absolutely precious, and had thought that this was probably what most fathers felt when they see their children and grandchildren.

Master Jinn! So I heard that you invited a fish to chew on your lightsaber?

"Insolent brat," Qui-Gon muttered, "Who told him about the fish?"

"Who didn't?" Mace snorted. "Everyone was waiting for the moment he came back to tell him all about how smooth your moves were back there. He was absolutely delighted that the great Qui-Gon Jinn was outwitted by a lightsaber-eating fish."

Qui-Gon knew as much. He was also very amused that Qui-Gon woke Yoda in the middle of the night to ask for a new padawan. I thought you weren't going to take another one after Authsola?

"But even Feemor and Authsola were strong in the Living Force, Qui-Gon. I don't really know what you're thinking, but this is like trying to teach a twi'lek to be a rodian, or teaching Yoda how to be tall. You can work with such people, but you can't teach them."

"I'll figure something out." To an extent, every mentor could only teach so much, and it was up to the students to figure out for themselves. Far more precious than skills at the lightsaber or other Force tricks was a person's mental and emotional integrity. The more Qui-Gon thought about it, the less suitable another master seemed. Obi-Wan may not be the Chosen One, but he was special enough to warrant his own method of training, and Qui-Gon had always been willing to try new things.

Before he could elaborate on the thought, or Mace could reply with his own opinions on the matter, Qui-Gon sensed someone's attention focus on him. Had he been less experienced, he would have ignored it, pretending he did not notice, but the Force-sensitive serial killer was hunting those like her, and ignoring her would prove him to be unworthy prey. Qui-Gon glanced around, morphing his face to look confused. He even allowed himself to stretch his senses out to help him, though not too much.

There, a shadow.

Qui-Gon looked a little longer to give the impression that he did not find what he was looking for. By then the attention was off him. He lumbered on as if the matter was dropped.

"You find her?" He muttered.

"No," Mace replied, "I know the general area but I didn't actually see her. I didn't want to alert her to my presence."

That was good in its own way.

"Be careful, Qui."

Qui-Gon grunted at this. Servathi was a twi'lek, a daughter of a prostitute who, like many of her brethren, joined her mother in the brothels. There was no data on what drugs she used, but it was generally known that such people dealt in the markets as both customers and dealers. Servathi was Force-sensitive, which meant she put a different twist on her work, persuading customers to part with more money than usual, and dealers to part with drugs for less, sometimes even no payment at all. Two years ago she snapped and left the business to kill other Force-sensitives along with whoever happened to be in her way. Like most who turned to the Dark Side, she enjoyed killing for the slaughter, though given the circumstances, Qui-Gon was willing to bet that even a non-Force-sensitive would enjoy killing for slaughter. This sort of case would not warrant two Jedi Masters, however, if she had not crossed paths with some rogue Jedi, who disastrously decided to take her under his or her wing—no one was sure who her master was. As a result, the planet now had to contend with a lightsaber-wielding ex-prostitute intent on murder, who was alarmingly skilled in the Force. The previous knight who faced her did not return.

Servathi was no minor foe.

"Keep close Mace."

"I have you in my sights."

Qui-Gon ducked out of the street.

OoO

It was nighttime before Servathi made her strike, more than a week since Mace and Qui-Gon landed on the planet. She was Rutian, which Qui-Gon found interesting—the blue skin color was rare among twi'leks. She wore a revealing outfit like most twi'lek females and approached him like a shadow.

"Well well," Said she in a sultry voice, as she walked with loose hips and a long stride, "What have we here? Someone looks rather…lonely."

She was choosing seduction, which was hardly surprising. Supposedly, Servathi used different methods on women and children. Qui-Gon appraised her, looking for clues under the pretense of examining her value. She was thin, which made her look nimble. He did not see her lightsaber, even if he knew it was there.

"Who are you?" He asked, because it would be something an oaf would say.

"I am Servathi," Said she with a coy smile, and under the cover of darkness, he almost missed her eyes gleaming with manic glee. "As it happens, darling, I'm a little lonely too." She approached him further, and he let her because the Force was guiding his hand toward her lightsaber—

Skin-on-skin contact made his vision flash. Servathi had not expected someone would grab for her breasts upon meeting her, which was why her lightsaber was tucked in her bra. Qui-Gon was as much a man as any other, but the flesh under his hand was not what caused his sight to burst. The Force pulsed, and he leaped back with her lightsaber in hand. She hissed, jumping back as well, diving into a crouch.

Qui-Gon activated her lightsaber instantly, wondering what just happened between them. She turned and ran, but Mace was ready for her, his own purple lightsaber illuminating the darkness.

"Stand down, Servathi," He ordered, "Come with us quietly and we won't hurt you."

She pulled her blaster and shot. Mace deflected the bolt easily, and she dodged before it could hit her arm. She created a Force whirlwind that both Qui-Gon and Mace had to dodge, and when they recovered she was leaping high onto the buildings.

"After her!" Mace called to him.

Even without her lightsaber and outnumbered, Servathi was difficult to take down. They chased her over the rooftops where they engaged her frequently to no avail. At long last, high above ground, where even the highest skyway was many feet below, they trapped her against the edge of the roof.

"Servathi," Qui-Gon called, "We don't want to hurt you. Come with us peacefully. It doesn't have to end this way."

Servathi's face contorted. "Never!" She hissed, "I will die before I ever join the Jedi! Murderers! Hypocrites! Thieves! Demons!" Her wild eyes glared into his, "Poor Obi-Wan! We want him, we do! Like clouds eat the stars! I go, and I'll claim him yet!"

She whirled around and before either Jedi could stop her, she dove out and fell. The two Jedi raced to the edge, but they could not see her falling body due to the thick traffic of the skyways.

"Sith," Mace cursed.

"Let's go down," Qui-Gon moved back.

OoO

"How are we to explain this to the Council?" Qui-Gon asked.

They had searched the entire block, and all the buildings around it, but there was no sign of Servathi. It was possible that the fall had torn her body to pieces and some flying vessel had somehow carried it off, but it was disturbing that they found no hint of it at all. The Jedi was not talking about that though.

"She probably plucked it from your mind," Said Mace, "Such a trick is not unheard of, though very…worrisome, given that you are a master. You have been thinking a lot about the initiate and perhaps it was a momentary slip? Perhaps she saw it in the Force? She probably just said that to unnerve us. Or…" He hesitated, "Maybe she is just crazy."

"She did suddenly use plural." We want him, we do! "As far as we know, she is a loner, correct?"

"Yes."

There was still the matter of no body, however. At this point, the planet officials had finally stepped in to help the Jedi look around.

"Do you think she is dead?" Mace asked.

"No. But I would not know where to look."

And both Jedi had other matters to see to, other missions to go on. They could not wait indefinitely on the planet for her to show herself.

"This is a lousy ending to the mission," The dark-skinned Jedi complained. "This isn't even an ending to a mission. We should have just killed her instead of talk—now she is probably finding new haunts if she is alive, and we are no longer certain of anything."

"At least this was an improvement from the first attempt," Qui-Gon pointed out solemnly.

OoO

The Temple was a welcome sight, especially as this time, Qui-Gon had come home during the day instead of at some odd hour in the night. Sifo-Dyas, a close friend of Qui-Gon's master, Dooku, patted him on the shoulder when he admitted the fruitlessness of the mission. Sifo-Dyas was friendly enough with Qui-Gon, but did not usually go out of his way to accost him, so the younger man was surprised to find the elder master waiting for him in the temple.

"I sensed a disturbance in the Force," Said the elder man. "It had something to do with you and Windu, I believe. Did something unusual happen on the mission?"

Sifo-Dyas, Qui-Gon thought with some chagrin, had the gift of pre-cognition. Fortunately, the elder master was not so interested in claiming a padawan, but he might be interested in dissuading Qui-Gon from claiming Obi-Wan by articulating a series of unpromising futures. Qui-Gon was not really in the mood for this, but Sifo-Dyas was his senior, and refusing to listen would be disrespectful.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Sifo-Dyas smiled a little after Qui-Gon explained everything. Despite being Dooku's age, his hair was still mostly black and he looked as young as Qui-Gon, if not younger. "The little one everyone is astir about? It figures, really."

He did not explain what figured.

"You know Dooku's first padawan, Komari Vosa?"

Qui-Gon could see where this was going.

"With all due respect, I do not think Vosa's temper was the cause of her downfall. She was distinctly…ruthless."

"It starts somewhere, but I do not bring her up for reasons you are probably thinking of. You were fairly careful with your former two padawans, both of them had excellent temperaments that were suitable for a traditional Jedi Knight. I know your selection had to do with what ultimately happened with Vosa, and your choices were not the only ones so impacted. You must understand, your interest is…puzzling."

Qui-Gon rubbed his head. "With all due respect, I have to inquire why you are interested in this."

"You are my best friend's padawan," Sifo-Dyas replied readily, "And his favorite. He is the proudest of you, and he is not here to talk to you. He asked me to speak with you in his stead."

Qui-Gon rubbed his mouth. "How did Master Dooku even know?" Dooku had been away from Coruscant for almost two years, on an extended mission near the Outer Rim. Someone had to have contacted him about this. Qui-Gon did not realize this business with Obi-Wan warranted such concern.

"He inquired about you when he reported in to the Council, a few days after you and Master Windu departed. Master Yoda told him, presumably. I think he's a bit annoyed at how…infatuated you were." Sifo-Dyas folded his arms.

"I am not infatuated with Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon made a face. With the mention of Komari Vosa, the term held an ugly and highly inappropriate meaning. "I have meditated on this, and—"

"And?"

Qui-Gon paused. "It's not about training him as a Jedi. Not really. If you truly want to understand, Master Sifo-Dyas, you have to meditate with the boy. The Force is especially protective of him as he is. There are parts of him that another Jedi master would whittle out of him."

"Then perhaps he is not fit to be trained as a Jedi."

"Or perhaps he is not fit to be trained as a traditional Jedi."

Sifo-Dyas frowned a little in thought. "Interesting."

Qui-Gon made to walk away without further comment, because he had just returned from an unsatisfactory mission and was really not in the mood to keep debating this matter, but Sifo-Dyas' next comment stopped him.

"He's going to draw a lot of attention, your young one."

Qui-Gon turned around. "What?"

"Your padawan," Sifo-Dyas smiled a little, but it was not an entirely happy smile, "He will draw a lot of attention. Not all of them of this side of the Force, even. I can't tell exactly what might happen, but I do know that your Obi-Wan Kenobi is special. If you train him, he will do great things, but if you care as much about him as I think you do, you better look after him well."

A thought suddenly occurred to Qui-Gon. "Is he the Chosen One?"

"No," Said Sifo-Dyas, "But he might as well be. Keep him close, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon swallowed. "I'll do that."

Sifo-Dyas inclined his head. "May the Force be with you, and your little one."

It was not until Sifo-Dyas was long gone when Qui-Gon realized he had effectively been given unofficial permission to train Obi-Wan.

OoO

Obi-Wan had healed enough to attempt walking, something that the child struggled with. When Qui-Gon found him, the boy was stressed and exhausted, having pushed himself to the brink to no apparent success. He was with his friend, Garen Muln, in the salles, and neither youngling noticed the master watching from outside.

"You're still healing," Said Muln, "It's probably normal. Didn't the healers say this is normal?"

"I feel like I forgot how to do it," Obi-Wan was wielding a training saber, and Qui-Gon found himself feeling annoyed that no one instructed Obi-Wan to wait a little before attempting anything in the salles, "I can't do any of them, it's like I forgot."

"You're just used to being really good at this," Said his friend, "Maybe this is the Force's way of telling you to slow down and wait for the rest of us."

"I don't get it," Obi-Wan sounded close to tears, "It's always been so easy for me. I don't get why I can walk and yet I can't seem to do this."

"Maybe you just need more time."

"I'm healed already," And the boy obviously believed it, even though bacta did not work miracles. "Why would I need more time?"

"Don't listen to what Aalto said," The other boy sniffed, "We're still young. You'll be someone's padawan. They'd be dumb not to choose you. It's just some broken legs. There are Jedi with prosthetics."

"They don't forget everything though." Obi-Wan looked dejected. "And all of you have caught the interest of one master or another. The only one who didn't was me."

"We caught the interest, doesn't mean they'd choose us. Master Yoda said that most younglings get chosen when they're ten or older."

Hm. Qui-Gon was not sure how he felt about being forgotten so easily. Then again, after seeing the child three times after rescuing him from the debris, Qui-Gon did disappear without so much as a farewell for nearly two weeks. For nine-year-olds, "catching a master's interest" probably involved a lot less subtlety from the adults as well. Qui-Gon did not go out of his way to announce his intentions to Obi-Wan, and he could forgive the boy for being a little dense.

"What about that big one, Kye-Gone Jing? What was his name? He came the other day and took us out to the gardens with Master Yoda and Master Window."

Master Window. Qui-Gon was ashamed he never thought of that nickname himself. It was such an obvious one…he was using it the first chance he gets…

Obi-Wan proved he was not so dense after all. "I was hoping he liked me, but," He shifted from one foot to the other, "He never said anything in the end, and then he just left. He didn't even come to say hello."

"Masters never do," Muln assured him.

Qui-Gon was about to open the door then, but Obi-Wan chose that moment to attempt to execute a maneuver even twelve-year-olds had problems with. His legs were too slow, as was expected in his condition, and Qui-Gon burst into the room to soften his fall before he could hurt himself.

Obi-Wan was good at lightsaber techniques, and he was also good at falling. His body rotated so that he rolled forward, keeping much of his weight off his legs.

"Ugh!" The boy groaned in frustration.

For a fleeting moment, Qui-Gon felt anger—what was the boy thinking, trying something like that when he was barely healed? But years of practice allowed him to release the anger into the Force without even thinking, and he was kneeling next to the dumbstruck child.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I—I'm fine," Obi-Wan stuttered, staring at him with wide eyes. "I—I know how to do that. I use to, anyway." He flushed, embarrassed at his performance.

"You can break your legs again with that stunt," Qui-Gon was not amused. "Didn't anyone tell you to keep away from the training salles?"

Both initiates were startled by his presence, so neither one replied.

"I'll have a word with the healers," Qui-Gon rose.

"No—" Obi-Wan grabbed at his trousers from where he was still sitting on the floor, "It—It's not their fault. They told me." He bit his lip, knowing he was in trouble.

Qui-Gon stared down at him, unimpressed. "If you know this already, why are you here?"

"…I was feeling fine…" Obi-Wan was keeping eye-contact, but in the manner of a cornered animal, "And…I wanted to make sure I didn't forget anything."

Qui-Gon frowned at what he was sensing from the Force. "Did someone say you would forget?"

This time Obi-Wan lowered his eyes.

"Who was it? Was it Initiate Chun again?"

"No," Said Muln, "His friend, Aalto. He said that while Obi-Wan was sitting on his butt, the rest of us will catch up, and then he'll never get picked as a padawan.

Qui-Gon frowned even more. "Do you want to break your legs again, Obi-Wan?"

The boy shook his head miserably.

"Is it worth breaking your legs over what someone said, Obi-Wan?"

"He said I wouldn't be a Jedi Knight," Obi-Wan looked up, and there was a flash of solid defiance, "And I want to be a Jedi Knight. I wasn't going to be one by sitting around and sp—sp—spoiling myself like a princess."

Qui-Gon would have laughed if the situation were not so serious. Obi-Wan was too easily manipulated by these bullies. His pride could use some lessening. It was in his files too, but Qui-Gon had not thought much of it until he was faced with this.

Obi-Wan, who had been sitting, suddenly collapsed. He was usually more respectful than that, so Qui-Gon instantly knelt by his side again.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

The boy's eyes were pinched, and a coil of real fear began to twist in his signature.

"Obi!" The other boy ran to his side, "Obi, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan gasped, "I just feel…feel sick."

Qui-Gon was familiar with this. "You overtaxed yourself, child. Take a moment and breathe." He collected the training lightsaber. "Your bones are still mending, you shouldn't have exerted yourself like this. Much of your body is still devoted to healing." Obi-Wan was still frightened by this turn his body had taken, so he smoothed a hand over the boy's forehead. "Relax."

The boy did at his persuasion, breathing deeply but slower. Qui-Gon waited patiently, as did the other boy. He used the time to consider what to do. Obi-Wan's pride was a matter of concern, but it was complicated—he wanted to do well, and Qui-Gon could hardly criticize that.

After a while, Obi-Wan sat up slowly, abashed and spent. Seeing him so tired filled Qui-Gon with a bizarre urge to hug the child.

"Come, let's get you to the créche," He said, and without further ado he hoisted Obi-Wan up and into his arms. Obi-Wan grabbed onto him immediately, as naturally as a child would his father, but he was dismayed.

"I can walk," The boy insisted.

"I want you off your feet," Qui-Gon easily placated. He turned to the other boy. "Can you open the door for me, please, Initiate Muln?"

"Yes, Master." Muln ran to the door.

Obi-Wan was horrified with his position, but a child was a child and he had exhausted himself for the day. Halfway down the hall, Qui-Gon turned his head and realized the boy had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Ha! He thought, Little ones and their drama, but at the end of the day they still sleep like babies wherever their heads happen to rest. The thought brought a smile on his face that he could not wipe off even when the Créche Master raised her eyebrows at him.