Darsant Avat

A Padawan

With the approval of Sifo-Dyas, things went smoothly from there, despite the continued protests from everyone else.

Obi-Wan regarded him with open-mouthed wonderment when he informed the youngling about his intentions, before recovering himself and ecstatically promising Qui-Gon that he would be "the best padawan ever". Once that was settled, the two formed a training bond in the Force, the beginnings of which were unsurprisingly already present. With it strengthened and solidified, however, Qui-Gon found his head ringing with the bell-like laughter of the Force nonstop and had to go to Yoda to put an end to the distraction.

"My other padawans weren't nearly this noisy," He said, confused, as Yoda skimmed his clawed fingers over Qui-Gon's head. "Then again, they had calmer dispositions, but this doesn't really make any sense. You could have warned me about this, you know."

"Hm! Know of this, I did not." Yoda withdrew his hands. "Unusual, this is. Going two ways, this bond is—from you to young Kenobi, is one, and from him to you, is another."

"What is he transferring to me?" Qui-Gon asked. He wondered if this was what people felt when they were high on drugs.

"Certain, I am not," Yoda frowned in thought, "Watch what happens, we should."

Obi-Wan's stunts at the salle set his recovery back by days. He gritted his teeth to bear the ache, but through the training bond the boy could hide nothing from his master. Qui-Gon had the boy sit while he helped pack his belongings from the créche. Like all Jedi children, Obi-Wan did not have many possessions.

"What did you do to this datapad?" He asked as he glanced at it. It looked like it had been mutilated by someone that hated it very much. Was it Bruck again?

"Oh," Obi-Wan blushed from where he sat on his bunk, "It was broken. I was taking it apart and I got…curious about how tough the parts were."

Qui-Gon picked it up, and was suddenly struck with a vision. Obi-Wan, probably around seven years old, using various tools to get the parts to bend or break. The vision was over as soon as it started, and he blinked to clear his sight.

Interesting. That was something reminiscent of…the Unifying Force. Through the bond, he could still hear the jingling of bells, a soft chorus of young voices singing. It was softer now though, so Qui-Gon had a hunch it might have to do with the initialization of the bond.

"I can throw it out," Said the boy, "I haven't touched it in years."

He had a very good control over his telekinesis, Qui-Gon thought with approval as the boy used the Force to dump the ruined datapad into the trash. The gleam of metal suddenly reminded him that most padawans already made their first lightsaber by the time they were chosen, but Obi-Wan was just a bit too young for that. He was also a bit young for cooking—most human children began when they were ten years old. Flying was out of the question until the boy is thirteen, as was driving any sort of speeder. Qui-Gon would also not be able to leave Obi-Wan alone overnight until he was a bit older; even if Jedi children were more mature than their civilian counterparts, there were certain boundaries they just could not cross until the right time.

This will be interesting.

Obi-Wan climbed down the ladder. "That's everything," He said, barely masking a wince.

Qui-Gon lifted the boy and hooked him onto one arm before bending down to grab the bag. "Are you ready to see your new home?"

The boy beamed at him. "Yes, Master!"

Initiate Muln entered the room as the master and his new padawan prepared to step out.

"Obi-Wan!" Muln was smiling a little, before looking a little tense, "Are you leaving already?"

"Uh-huh," Obi-Wan chirped. Qui-Gon set him down so he could talk properly to his friend.

"We'll miss you around here," Said Muln, "And you were afraid you weren't getting chosen. Shows Chun what he knows."

"He'll be upset about this," Obi-Wan said. There was a fair bit of pleasure paired with the statement, but Qui-Gon allowed it because it lacked real malice. "Maybe after this he'll stop being such a bastard."

"Language, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon reprimanded without thinking, and was met with startled confusion. Obi-Wan had not realized it was a bad word. He probably overheard some padawan or knight using it and picked it up. Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's head to soften the reproach. "I'm sure Chun is as afraid of not being chosen as you are." The boy certainly should be, given the circumstances. "You're secure now, Obi-Wan, don't rub it in his face."

"I know. That would be mean."

He was a good boy, Qui-Gon thought with a mix of satisfaction and frustration. Temper and impatience was dangerous and all, but they were independent of a person's moral integrity, and Obi-Wan was a compassionate child. For that alone, his flaws should mean little. It made him wonder if other initiates were being released to the Service Corps for lousy reasons. Without another word, he hoisted Obi-Wan up again.

"Say good bye for now," He told his padawan. It felt good to know that this boy was his at last. "You'll see each other again, I promise. You still need to go to class. You better not boast about this, Obi-Wan—you're young for a padawan, but it would make others resentful."

"What's 'resentful'?"

"Annoyed. They'd be annoyed with you."

"No one would be as annoying as Bruck Chun," Muln sniffed.

"Still," Qui-Gon said to Obi-Wan gravely, "No showing off. Understand?" He understood enough about the mentality of children to know this was a danger.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master. Bye Garen!"

"Bye Obi! I'll see you later!"

OoO

Qui-Gon's apartment held a collection of things from his past. There was a lace doily made by Authsola when she was seventeen, Feemor's holo-album of photos, Dooku's paperweight, statuette, Feemor's model ships that Qui-Gon never could bring himself to dispose of, and frames of photos taken when his two padawans had been knighted. There were also photos of Qui-Gon himself, with Tahl and Mace as younglings and padawans and then knights, Feemor with a pie in his face, Authsola with friends from Alderaan, Dooku sparring with Qui-Gon.

Admittedly, the rooms were all arranged by Tahl, since Qui-Gon had no interest in interior design, but he found himself glad for her hand in the matter, because it was very satisfying to watch young Obi-Wan look around and stare especially at the images of a young Qui-Gon, no doubt comparing the different versions.

"I'll get to see the other padawans too right?" The boy asked. "Your former padawans?"

"Of course." Feemor was right here in the temple, and Qui-Gon made a mental note to arrange lunch or dinner with him and his padawan. Authsola was still on her mission, but she would adore Obi-Wan—she always did like younglings.

Obi-Wan was especially interested in the pictures of Qui-Gon as a youngling.

"Is that Master Window?"

"Windu, and yes."

"He had hair then."

"Yes he did."

"How'd he lose it?"

"Maybe you can ask him yourself." Should he warn Obi-Wan not to be blunt? Actually, for his own amusement, he wanted to keep silent. He wanted to see how Mace would react.

Obi-Wan was not quite so tactless after all. "I can't just go up to him and ask how he lost his hair."

Qui-Gon smiled. "No."

"You're not going to tell me?"

"You have to figure it out from him. It's his story, not mine." He was teasing the poor child, but at the same time it would be good for the boy to reach out to Jedi masters now. As a padawan, he would be associating with them more. "You want to be polite, but don't worry. He won't bite."

"He's not allowed to be angry; he's a Jedi Master." Was that a wicked gleam in the boy's eye? Watch out, Mace. This one's a clever one.

"How old is Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked as he looked at another picture.

"Old."

"Everyone says that, but he's all white and gray when you were a youngling so he was old then too."

"That's right."

"No one would tell us how old he is, not even the Créche Master."

"I expect it's because no one really knows."

"Is he really thousands of years old?"

"Well, I don't think so. I think he's close to nine hundred, though."

Obi-Wan released an exclamation of awe.

"Doesn't he get tired of teaching us kids all the time?"

Qui-Gon ruffled the boy's head. "It turns out, for people like Yoda, the older they get the more fond of children they are. I don't expect he is tired at all. I think…he enjoys it."

Obi-Wan was very happy about this. "Why does he talk differently from others?"

"Hm?"

"He talks odd. Like, he reverses the order, or something."

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Maybe you can ask Yoda."

"I did," Obi-Wan groused, "He just pretended he didn't know what I was talking about."

That sounded like Yoda. Qui-Gon was impressed that Obi-Wan had the nerve to do this. "Did you do it yourself?"

Obi-Wan squirmed. "It was Bruck Chun. He said I'd be too scared to. I went and did it because I was curious too."

They needed to do something about this Bruck Chun. He was coming up much too often. Someone should have kept the two apart—admittedly the Créche Master had a lot of initiates to keep track of, but this was where individual attention had its advantages.

Dinner was an interesting affair. Either Obi-Wan was like this for all adults, or he trusted Qui-Gon deeply. The training bond hummed pleasantly between them as the child gave him a detailed summary about himself in a style not unlike an oral resumé of his favorite hobbies (flying simulators, lightsaber, building droids and remote-controls for models), virtues that other people mentioned of him (quick learner, quick reader, good at math, good at design) flaws (proud, though Qui-Gon was not sure if he really understood what that meant, impatient, easily angered, bad at drawing and singing, constantly getting into scrapes and a little mischievous, though Obi-Wan had used the term "naughty" and "wicked") his dearest friends and their attributes (Garen Muln was usually his partner-in-crime, Reeft usually ate his leftovers or, if there were none, outright stole from his plate, Bant Eerin was the only girl in his clan and she's shy and quiet and constantly trying to keep Garen from encouraging Obi-Wan to do something stupid). For a nine-year-old, it was pretty impressive, and Qui-Gon had a difficult time keeping from choking on his laughter as he listened.

"What about Bruck Chun?" He asked, since the boy left him out.

Obi-Wan scowled. "He's mean. He's always bugging me and picking on Bant because she's Mon Calamari. They're always calling her ugly, and they call me Oafy-Wan all the time and it's really annoying."

"Them? Who else besides Chun?"

"Aalto. They're always together, and they're always making fun of me and Bant. Garen says it's because he's jealous I'm so much better than him."

"Do you think that is really the case?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I beat him all the time in lightsaber class. On tests I sometimes do and sometimes don't. He gloats all the time if he gets a higher score than me even though I've caught him trying to cheat on me." Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows at the words. It did not sound like Obi-Wan tattled on him, which was interesting. "I don't know. Even when I try to be nice to him, he's mean, and Aalto's bigger than me and constantly tripping me in the halls."

Qui-Gon had enough experience with younglings to know better than to take Obi-Wan's depiction without question, but he also knew the harm that could come from withholding support from his own padawan. Obi-Wan already demonstrated that he did not like imposing on adults, which meant this confidence was a gesture of trust.

"Try to stay away from him," He said to the youngster, "I know it would probably be hard, especially if you share classes, but try to ignore them and stay clear of them. Can you do that?"

"I already do that," Obi-Wan pouted, "But sometimes they come and pick a fight with me on purpose."

"If they accost you," Qui-Gon said seriously, "I want you to tap into our training bond. Will you do that?"

Obi-Wan was silent for a moment.

"If they come up to you at all," Qui-Gon said seriously, "I don't care how small or insignificant—unimportant, the situation seems, even if you think you can handle it on your own, I want you to tap into our training bond and call me. Promise me you'll do that."

Obi-Wan was hesitating, which was bad and good. Bad, because he was clearly unwilling, and good, because he was giving the request the consideration it was due and not just blindly promising the adult without understanding what he was promising to. After a moment, Qui-Gon felt their training bond jerk as the little one pulled experimentally on it.

"Like that," The master said with approval.

"Alright," Obi-Wan acquiesced with bad grace, but despite his frown, he meant it. "I promise, Master."

The little one tugged a bit more on the mental bond. Qui-Gon did not stop him, because it was such an inquisitive gesture. Unlike his master, Obi-Wan had never forged a training bond before, and he should be allowed to explore the new development.

"Master Qui-Gon?"

"Hm?"

"When you made the training bond with others…did the Force giggle like that?"

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "No."

"Oh." Obi-Wan blinked. "Um…did it giggle for you too?"

That's one way of putting it. "Master Yoda and I are looking into it. Do you still hear it?"

"It's softer now," Obi-Wan tugged again on the bond, "And the Force feels…different now." He suddenly began worrying his lip. "We did it correctly, right?"

Qui-Gon allowed himself to laugh at this, despite Obi-Wan's confused look. "Yes, my child, we did it correctly. It's different between different masters and padawans, but we did it correctly."

Tug tug. "Can you pull it too? Would I feel it?"

Qui-Gon smirked and demonstrated. It should be illegal for nine-year-olds to be this cute. Maybe he was biased but Obi-Wan was just too precious. He mentally poked at Obi-Wan, and then tickled him, inspiring a fit of real giggles as Obi-Wan hopped out of his chair in a vain effort to dodge the mental tease. This prompted Qui-Gon to abandon the rest of his dinner and tickle the boy for real.

"I'll be good! Stop! Haha!" The boy gasped, and Qui-Gon relented, returning to his seat. Obi-Wan was more sheepish, face bright red but bearing a toothy grin. He could not finish his dinner, though, because he started hiccuping from laughing too much.

"Ah," Qui-Gon apologized, "I forgot. I'm sorry, little one."

"Hic!"

"Drink some water."

Drinking water never works, but for some reason everyone has to try it. Obi-Wan's fit died down soon enough, though, and the boy helped him stack the dishes into the sink. Washing them was a little awkward because the counter was a bit high, but the boy made a valiant effort and soon the chore was done.

"There's one more thing we need to do," Qui-Gon told the boy, "Before you are truly my padawan."

Obi-Wan blinked in question.

He had the child sit on the couch before Qui-Gon used a razor to slice off a lock of his own hair. Obi-Wan sat still and solemnly as his master carefully wove the strands into the beginnings of a braid. The colors clashed a little, but it did signify that Obi-Wan was his apprentice.

"All done, Padawan Kenobi," He announced once he finished. "Try not to mess it up. I don't have that much hair on my head." Feemor and Authsola had constantly unraveled their braids during training and other activities; it was a quirk of childhood Qui-Gon had to deal with as a padawan himself.

"I'll be careful." The boy was still in awe, running a finger over the strands lightly.

Jedi were not the most affectionate, but Qui-Gon allowed himself to move and hug the boy. Obi-Wan clung back.

"Work hard, little one," He said to him.

"I will, Master."

OoO

That night, Qui-Gon dreamed.

The issue with their conflicting talents had not gone away simply because he had willed it so, but the Force seemed to have its own ideas on how to solve the problem, as it always did. The visions he faced were a bit nauseating, spinning in and out too fast and filled with color too bright for the mind to process. Most of the images were metaphors, he knew, things that could be but were not set in stone, not meant to really be understood. Qui-Gon was getting a bit of insight as to why most people did not like the Unifying Force. It was truly convoluted, and encouraged more doubt than certainty, more anxiety than comfort.

At the center of it all, however, Obi-Wan was a steady presence, and Qui-Gon hooked onto him to anchor himself. The boy seemed unaware of the mayhem around him, and even a bit oblivious of Qui-Gon, leaving the Jedi Master to observe this aspect of the Force by himself.

Once he made contact with the child, however, the turmoil slowed so that coherent sequences formed. Obi-Wan continued with his own business, whatever it was—Qui-Gon was not sure what the boy was dreaming about, but around them he saw the Temple lobby, stretching out in all directions, Jedi calmly walking about and Sifo-Dyas talking with his former master. There was something alarmingly shadowed about Dooku, though Sifo-Dyas did not seem to realize this. Was it illness? Dooku did not look well, he did look a bit sickly. "You should request some time, my friend," Sifo-Dyas said to him, "Men like us have to slow down a little, allow the young ones to do the legwork. There comes a time when warriors must sit down and simply offer what advice they can."

The vision broke to follow Servathi, the blue-skinned twi'lek killing a man in the cockpit of a ship with one stroke of her lightsaber. So she's alive, Qui-Gon thought, and still on a murdering spree. It could be a vision from the past, but somehow it did not feel like it. On the screens he saw her enter the coordinates for Coruscant, before pulling the ship into hyperspace.

As they went, the vision blurred, and he saw a tall young man with fair skin and dark hair. He was clad in rich robes and a ring gleamed from every finger. He was standing at a large banquet where all the guests were dressed as lavishly as he was. His perspective pulled back and he saw a planet that was a mix of green and gold, which was not helpful for identifying it at all.

The images jerked, and Qui-Gon saw Dooku standing in front of little Obi-Wan. The shadow around his former master was more pronounced now, and Obi-Wan was visibly scared. He said something vaguely respectful to the older Jedi and seemed to look for a way to escape. Dooku raised a hand and suddenly stroked boy's cheek, the gesture outwardly affectionate, but tinged with a thoroughly evil intent.

"My former padawan chose well this time." Dooku murmured. "Train well, young padawan. I will be watching your progress."

Qui-Gon's broke from his dreams with a gasp. His heart thundered in his chest, and it took a few breaths to bring it down to a more sedate pace. He checked through the training bond to the young one next door. Obi-Wan had woken, but the youngster had no idea why. He waited for a moment, but the boy, perceiving no reason for alarm, promptly went back to sleep.

For the master's part, it was a long time before he could shut his eyes again.

OoO

Obi-Wan remained completely oblivious of what transpired during the night. He did not even remember what he was dreaming about, and was a little nonplussed when Qui-Gon pressured him to remember. The Jedi Master ultimately waved the matter away and let the boy go after applying some Force healing to his legs to ease the pain. He had some research to do, so he went to the archives when his little one went to class.

Sifo-Dyas and Yoda were looking over the same holoscreen when he arrived, and as he began to walk past, Tahl brushed by and tapped him on the shoulder.

"This is for you," She told him, as she joined the other two. "Here," She announced, "I found a case that looks promising." She slipped the drive into the computer.

"Takkut and Amel," Sifo-Dyas read aloud without looking at Qui-Gon, though it was obvious both he and Yoda were aware he had joined them, " But these two aren't master and padawan."

"They're very compatible partners. Takkut was Amel's master's good friend, until his friend died on a mission shortly after Amel's trials."

"The two were paired for Amel's initial missions as a knight," Qui-Gon skimmed the passages, "They proved to work together very well and the Council made them a semi-permanent team."

"Like the case with Jinn and Kenobi, this is," Yoda observed, "Strong in the Unifying Force, Takkut was, while trained in the Living Force, Amel was."

"They formed a bond. Nothing about the Force clanging through it, though."

"Still ringing, is it?" Yoda asked.

Qui-Gon paused. "It's softer now. There was a new development though. I'm not very strong with visions—I never really was, but yesterday was the first night Obi-Wan and I were paired, and I think I stole his dreams somehow."

"Explain this, you should," Yoda stated, leaning on his walking stick.

Sifo-Dyas expressed more incredulity than either of the other two masters when Qui-Gon finished.

"This doesn't make any sense. What purpose could stealing a person's visions serve? If Master Jinn sees all of the visions at Initiate—ah, I mean, Padawan Kenobi's expense," And Qui-Gon suppressed the warm feeling of satisfaction at the correction, "Then Kenobi would not be able to learn how to decipher them on his own."

"Saw nothing of these, Kenobi did?" Yoda inquired.

"I don't think he's aware of what happened at all." Qui-Gon paused. "Granted, most of the images would have been confusing for him. He does not recognize Master Sifo-Dyas, nor has he ever met Master Dooku, or Servathi. There was one man there that I did not recognize, but he could not have recognized him either."

Tahl patted his shoulders. "I'm going to look some more. If there's Takkut and Amel, there ought to be other examples." She left the three men alone.

"After Amel's master died," Sifo-Dyas stated, "This file states that he had problems with nightmares. Upon first pairing him with Takkut—oh her. Amel was female—Takkut stole her nightmares, much like Master Jinn did with Kenobi. On occasion Amel would also steal Takkut's visions. The healer here theorized that when Takkut was unable to handle the visions or properly respond to them, Amel got them instead. Every time Amel received a vision, Takkut had no idea what they were, and the people she recognized, the planets, the landscapes, he would not."

"Hm," Yoda and Qui-Gon remarked at the same time.

"This is assuming the visions were, in fact, premonitions of a sort," Sifo-Dyas turned to look at Qui-Gon, "I know Dooku. He is a proud man, but his pride is also what protects him from the Dark Side. I don't understand this shadow you are talking about. It could be that he was physically ill…in which case, we should recall him to the temple."

The idea of Dooku in the same temple as his little one filled Qui-Gon with more unease than it should, and he wondered at it. A single vision should not have changed his view of Dooku so much. The man had been his master, and Qui-Gon knew him enough to voice the same skepticism as Sifo-Dyas, but something tugged at his heart and he found himself hoping with all his might for Yoda to refuse.

The old Jedi shook his head. "Not yet."

Good enough.

"Visions for those like Obi-Wan Kenobi tend to involve a lot of metaphors," Sifo-Dyas then pointed out, "It could be that the Force is using Dooku to represent something else, or someone else. Usually, the visions themselves are misleading, but they compel their viewer to respond in a certain way. They're meant to guide us on the right path, not necessarily to be taken literally."

"Look more, we should," Yoda recommended.

OoO

"It figures that the Sith would come up with something like this," Said Mace during lunch, "They're less about helping out their apprentices and more about using them."

"What exactly is the issue again?" Kit Fisto asked as he slid his tray next to theirs.

"Qui took a padawan strong in the Unifying Force," Tahl said with her mouth full. "Qui is strong in the Living Force. Cue issues."

"Qui-Gon is stealing visions from his padawan," Said Ki-Adi Mundi.

"Didn't this start off with something about a giggling Force?" Mace asked. "First the Force dances and now it giggles around you. For crying out loud, Qui, what's with you and making the Force completely undignified?"

"The Force has calmed down," Qui-Gon said dryly, "It's no longer giggling, though there's still a very upbeat rhythm to it."

"Right."

"What does this have to do with the Sith?" Shaak Ti asked.

"The Sith are not altruistic," Said Ki-Adi, "If the Master is strong in the Living Force, he wouldn't care if he can't teach an apprentice who is strong in the Unifying Force, as long as the apprenticeship serves him."

"The Force giggles around the Sith? I'm not even sure if I understand what you mean by the Force 'giggling'. It doesn't exactly have an audible voice."

"It was giggling." Qui-Gon sipped some water. Obi-Wan's description had been simple and yet accurate. "There's no other term for it. Laughing, maybe. Bubbling laughter. You have to experience it to believe it, I suppose."

"Well the Force was laughing around the Sith, from the apprentice's notes," Said Mace, "Though I imagine, given that the Sith don't giggle, it was probably just cackling a lot. And we can probably replace the 'upbeat rhythm' with one that's full of rage and hate."

"Charming."

"How droll."

"The notes stopped mentioning it after a few days," Mace went on, "And we also don't really have the whole file—much of it was corrupted. It did mention a vision-stealing thing, though in this particular case, it's the other way around—the apprentice was stealing visions from the master."

"Well, that wouldn't be good."

"They're both dead," Tahl swallowed another mouthful, "Which is good for the galaxy but not entirely promising for Qui and his little one."

"Lucky for me and my little one, we're not Sith!"

The other masters uttered sarcastic exclamations of surprise at this as the doors to the dining hall opened and the initiates came in. Obi-Wan was surrounded by his three friends and engrossed in chatter, and for a moment he looked like any other calm, solemn initiate save for the telling padawan braid. He did not expect his master there, and so did not look around, so Qui-Gon gave their bond a light tug to get his attention.

Obi-Wan turned and would have waved if his hands were not full of his lunch tray. Instead, he aimed a brilliant smile at Qui-Gon, genuinely happy to see him. "Hi Master!"

It probably was not the wisest move to get the youngling's attention, as much of the dining hall turned around at the bright call, but Qui-Gon raised his hand and smiled back and Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his friends without noticing the stir he caused.

"As I said," Said Tahl, "Hopeless. Is it just me, or is Qui being ridiculous this time around? He wasn't like this with his other two padawans."

"It's not just you," Said Shaak Ti.

"Master Yoda needs to work a little more on his demeanor," Ki-Adi remarked.

Qui-Gon, a little irritated, replied, "I like him the way he is. He can certainly improve on certain things, but in general, I think he is just fine."

"Lay off Qui's cub," Said Mace, "You're stirring his mother-bear instincts."

Qui-Gon scowled at him. He finished his lunch just as Sifo-Dyas suddenly entered. He scanned the room and headed straight for Obi-Wan.

"What's going on?" Tahl noticed this too. Sifo-Dyas was something of a living legend. His interest in a youngling would cause a bigger stir than Qui-Gon could ever manage.

"I don't know." He watched Sifo-Dyas sit down next to Obi-Wan. The four younglings were noticeably unsettled by his attention, and Obi-Wan nervously tugged on the training bond for reassurance. Qui-Gon sent a gentle wave of affection, but he watched the scene with a critical eye. It reminded him too much of the vision, of Dooku's remark to Obi-Wan and his corresponding caress that sent a wave of unease through Qui-Gon whenever he thought of it. Force knew Dooku had given Qui-Gon loose hugs and the like when they were master and padawan, but something about that touch seemed…filthy.

"What did I tell you?" Mace drank the last of his water, "Mother-bear instincts. Qui, you and Kenobi are already paired. Even Master Sifo-Dyas won't be able to steal him from you."

Qui-Gon ignored him, which made all the masters at the table uneasy.

"Is something wrong, Qui-Gon?" Tahl asked. "Are you sensing something from the bond?"

Qui-Gon was suddenly struck with a vision. It was very disorienting, and his sense of gravity dissipated in its wake, but he saw, clearly, Sifo-Dyas walking down what looked like the streets of slums, Obi-Wan running up to him, Sifo-Dyas kneeling in front of the boy, and then the next morning the child was sprawled on the street, his head cleaved from his body by a cauterizing blade.

He came back to himself with a wave of nausea and regretted eating lunch. Sifo-Dyas was still talking to Obi-Wan.

"Qui-Gon?" Kit Fisto called warily, "Qui-Gon, you've turned grey. Is something wrong?"

Don't do anything rash. Sifo-Dyas was hardly going to attack Obi-Wan in the dining hall in full view of everyone. Qui-Gon was not even sure if Sifo-Dyas was the one responsible for—for—he was not going to think of it.

"I'm fine," He said, his voice sounding weak to his ears.

"You saw something," Shaak Ti guessed. "I've seen that look before. What did you see?"

Obi-Wan had relaxed around Sifo-Dyas, chatting animatedly about whatever the nine-year-old child thought worthy of talking about. There was a soft look in the master's eyes and he listened with rapt attention to the youngster, while of the others, only Muln was brave enough to interject with a comment or two. The Force was quiet for now—there was no threat here, but the vision had Qui-Gon shaken.

"Qui-Gon," Tahl was saying, "If you move over there you'll scare the younglings."

"I'm fine," He said. He would stay here; there was no danger right now, not to his little one or anyone else. Still, he kept his eyes on the table as the elder master talked gently with his enthusiastic padawan, and did not let his attention waver until Sifo-Dyas finally left Obi-Wan with a look of acknowledgment at Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan was innocently oblivious of the drama yet again, and returned happily to his meal and his friends. Qui-Gon did not know whether to be more annoyed or amused.