Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

oOo

Once again, Anakin was bored. It seemed that life as a Jedi was not quite as interesting as he had imagined, since most of the time the only two Jedi he knew were either knitting furiously on something that looked eerily like overly large underpants (that would be Qui-Gon) or sitting around doing the daily midday meditation (Obi-Wan was sitting down again motionlessly). Since Qui-Gon didn't want to see him right now and Obi-Wan being completely silent and utterly uninteresting at the moment, Anakin decided to go somewhere else. The Padawan had promised that his meditation would only take about half an hour, so Anakin wandered off to find a more interesting occupation with which to spend the remainder of these thirty minutes.

For Anakin, that was a very long time. A very, very long time. He had managed to sit around doing nothing for no more than one minute and eighteen seconds before he got so excessively bored that he wandered off in search of something less lacklustre than an unmoving Padawan.

The girls were still busy putting away all the clothes they had shown to Obi-Wan earlier and told him they didn't need him underfoot, so Anakin finally wound up in the cockpit.

"Hey, guys," he shouted cheerfully. "What'cha doing?"

"Oh, hi!" Ric Olié, the pilot, answered good-naturedly.

Anakin looked around the cockpit, his eyes going wide with wonder.

"Wizard!" he shouted excitedly.

All those blinking buttons! He must be in heaven.

Anakin slowly approached the ship's controls, his gaze fixed on the hypnotically blinking lights. There was a bright red button that immediately caught his attention. He wondered what would happen if he pushed it. His arm was outstretched and slightly trembling with anticipation, eyes locked on the big red button that blinked so invitingly beneath the words 'fire alarm'.

His fingertips were just millimetres away from the button when the captain's hand snatched his arm away.

"Hey! Don't push that!" he chided lightly. "We don't want to start mass hysteria among the girls, now do we?"

Anakin thought that a mass hysteria would be quite amusing, and maybe one of the girls – preferably Padmé – would let him soothe her quivering fear afterwards.

But his hand was safely and also quite firmly within the pilot's grasp. With a sigh, Anakin gave up. He would push the button later, when no one was looking. No one stood between Anakin and what Anakin desired – no one! He only lacked the means to do anything about it – for now. When he was older and more powerful, no one would dare keeping him from pushing any buttons he liked, or marrying any woman he liked, or Force-choking any flunky he liked, for that matter. And should anyone have the impertinence to try, he would make sure that this would never ever happen again. In his mind, he could already see the pathetic groveling fools, choking and gurgling at his feet, their terror feeding his sense of superiority that would be completely out of proportion by then.

The pilot's voice abruptly interrupted his reverie.

"I've heard you are quite the pilot, yourself. You took part in a podrace?" Ric Olié sounded pretty impressed.

Anakin took this as a cue to launch a long and embellished tale about his heroic triumph at the Boonta Eve Race.

Twenty minutes later, Anakin finished his story with the words: "… and than WHAM! and BANG! and also a bit or VROOOM! and – but I digress. I was so wonderfully great that I just had to come in first, the others were not even a real challenge, not for a genius such as me."

The pilots were not entirely sure what to make of this.

But Anakin already had that fixed gaze again that meant that he would soon start pressing buttons. The pilot fumbled for something to distract him with.

"Hey, Anakin… um, would you like me to show you the controls of the ship?"

Anakin's face lit up with joy. "Yeah, that'd be wizard!"

"Ok, so this here is the steering device. The board computer there and one of the most important buttons here: it calls for the flight attendants. Well, we don't have any flight attendants on this flight, which is a real pity if you ask me. But usually there are about five or six of these attractive women on board with their neat outfits and their ever-smiling faces. Usually they serve the passengers, but sometimes they also bring a nice drink to us hard-working pilots."

The pilot smiled lewdly, although Anakin was still too young and inexperienced to correctly identify the expression. Thus, the boy didn't seem exactly impressed.

"Those are the forward stabilizers," Ric Olié further elaborated.

"And those two control the pitch?" Anakin asked, pointing at the cigarette lighters, which were a relic of a time when not all the flights were non-smoking flights.

The pilot snickered, but looking into Anakin's eager eyes, he simply didn't have the heart to tell the boy just how wrong his guess was. So instead, he simply smiled at the boy and even applauded him: "You catch on pretty quick."

He was rewarded with a brilliant smile from the bright-eyed boy sitting next to him.

oOo

Qui-Gon was annoyed. He had explicitly demanded that nobody interrupt him while he was knitting or else he would lose his concentration. Knitting was so much more difficult and needed infinitely more focus than meditating. And now, he had somehow messed up the intricate knitting pattern and the whole thing looked lopsided and not nice at all. So why was someone knocking – no, banging on his door?

He tried to ignore it. The banging did not stop.

Finally, the last shards of his concentration shattered, he stood up and walked over to the door. It opened with the usual silent swish, which seemed unsatisfactorily quiet and definitely not fitting his present mood. He would much rather have pulled it open in one furious jerk, with creaking hinges and a loud bang as it hit the wall. That would have felt so much better.

Qui-Gon glared at the unfortunate fool who dared disturb his knitting. His scowl deepened even further when he noticed that the person standing outside his room was Obi-Wan, who should have known better.

"What is the meaning of this, Obi-Wan?" he demanded, still glowering fiercely down at Obi-Wan, who looked as mortified as was acceptable for any self-respecting Jedi Padawan.

Not good enough.

"You scamp! How often did I tell you to leave me alone when I'm knitting?"

"I'm truly sorry, Master, I really am," Obi-Wan apologized, wishing that his Master would not call him by his name but by his title – one he would not bear for very much longer.

"And damn well you should be," Qui-Gon seethed. The only time the usually calm and unflappable Jedi Master could be seen seething was when his knitting was disturbed.

"Please forgive me, Master," Obi-Wan repeated. "The Queen summoned us about fifteen minutes ago. Her Highness wanted to discuss her plans for our arrival on Naboo – it's some kind of tactical meeting."

Obi-Wan had hoped that maybe this conversation might eventually lead to the apology he had planned, but unfortunately Qui-Gon didn't seem to be in an especially benevolent mood at the moment – Obi-Wan decided to postpone the request for forgiveness for just a bit longer.

"If the Queen summoned us fifteen minutes ago, why are we not in the throne room yet? It is unseemly to let a monarch wait, Padawan!" Qui-Gon obviously didn't feel like being fair instead of disgruntled at the moment.

Obi-Wan swallowed a cynical retort and instead apologized once again. With the way things were at the moment and with Qui-Gon going to die soon, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted was yet another disagreement with his Master. Besides, Qui-Gon had called him Padawan, and he had done so in exactly the same exasperated voice he had used so many times before – and Obi-Wan was incredibly grateful for that rebuke.

"And will you please stop apologizing," Qui-Gon snapped.

Obi-Wan sighed and then silently followed Qui-Gon, walking at the traditional distance behind the Master, glad to follow for a little time longer.

Qui-Gon walked into the makeshift throne room. The Queen, who had changed her clothes for what must be the hundredth time that day, already sat on her throne. Obi-Wan looked stubbornly down on the floor, he feared what would happen if he looked at any of the girls for too long. He stayed at the back of the room and let Qui-Gon handle the discussion with the girls.

Jar Jar stood even further back, trying to hide behind the Padawan and failing miserably because the Gungan was about half a meter taller than the young Jedi.

"I want to return to the Palace as soon as possible," the Queen said. "I am deeply worried for my clothes."

"I don't think that this is a good idea, your Highness," Captain Panaka disagreed. "The palace is occupied by a whole army of droids and you are probably Naboo's most wanted person. As soon as we land, the Federation will arrest you and force you to sign the treaty. This is the way they work: They cooperate with a telephone company and force everyone to sign one of their devious mobile phone contracts – one of the kind you'll be stuck with for the rest of your life and where the phone bills are all confusing and you end up paying for a lot of things you never even wanted in the first place. And may I remind you, Your Highness, that we already failed to pay our last phone bill for the comm. calls in the palace."

"I agree," Qui-Gon agreed.

Although Qui-Gon's face was inscrutable, Obi-Wan had to suppress a grin. Qui-Gon could so readily agree with the Captain because he knew exactly what Panaka was talking about. During a mission to Cato Neimoidia some three months ago, Qui-Gon himself had signed one of these contracts and had been trying to get out of it ever since. It was so deviously formulated, though, that not even the Jedi Order's legal representative had been able to find a loophole yet. The Jedi Master had no other choice but to pay the outrageous phone bills for the short remainder of his life.

"I'm not sure what you wish to accomplish by this," Qui-Gon continued.

The Queen's plan seemed very impulsive and reckless. It seemed no one had thought this through to the end – it didn't even seem to have been halfway planned.

"I will take back what's ours," the Queen stubbornly insisted. "I want the clothes back! I want them! I want them! I want them! I want them!" She seemed very agitated and stamped her foot in time with her demands.

Obviously, Her Royal Highness had not an inkling of how bad their situation really was.

"There are too few of us, Your Highness," Captain Panaka reminded her. "We have no army! The Trade Federation, on the other hand, does. That clearly gives them the advantage."

Panaka tried to make it as easy to understand as possible, like explaining to a child why it was ill-advised indeed to fan the flames of a wrathful Wookie's ire or why one should never shake hands with a treacherous Sith Lord.

"Yes. You only have, how many, three pilots and fifteen handmaidens? And the Trade Federation's army encompasses thousands of droids. That's at least that many…" Qui-Gon informed her, demonstrating everyone present exactly how many droids that were with his fingers.

"And I can only protect you. I can't fight a war for you," Qui-Gon finished.

It seemed Qui-Gon was still angry at his Padawan, because he made Obi-Wan feel ignored and slighted. Here he stood two steps behind his Master, who acted as if his apprentice weren't right there. Sometimes, Obi-Wan hoped that his Master would occasionally apologize, too, and not always leave it up to him to make things right between them. He frowned unhappily, wishing for a private conversation with Qui-Gon so that this wall of uncomfortable reticence that had sprung up between them in the Council Chamber could be torn down again. It seemed that Qui-Gon had not forgiven him yet, so that his presence would remain unacknowledged for now.

Padmé didn't seem impressed by the Trade Federation's army at all.

She looked at Obi-Wan for a very long moment, wondering why he couldn't fight the war for her – and preferably also do a number of other things for her - before her eyes shifted to the person standing behind the young Jedi.

"Jar Jar Binks!" she said in her droning royal voice.

The Gungan jumped and then leaned over to look past Obi-Wan, although that didn't make a lot of difference because he could look over the Padawan's head without any trouble at all.

"Mesa, Your Highness?" he squeaked.

"Yes. I need your help," Padmé said.

Obi-Wan could see where this was headed. On the one hand, he felt stupid because he hadn't thought of the Gungans at all. True, he had been more than just a bit preoccupied lately, but the Gungans and their possible plight had not crossed his mind even once – and neither had the possibility Padmé was clearly thinking of. Then again, knowing Jar Jar, he didn't have much confidence in the Queen's plan, not if the Gungans were even remotely like their cognitively challenged travel companion.

The Queen spent the rest of the journey to Naboo trying to get Jar Jar to understand her clever idea, to get Captain Panaka to agree to her incongruous plan and to stop Qui-Gon from counting on his fingers precisely just how many droids there were in the Trade Federation's army. The handmaidens spent the meeting staring at Obi-Wan, and the Padawan fretted over the situation in general and Qui-Gon's behaviour towards the person who was still his Padawan, for Force's sake, even if it wasn't to be for very much longer in particular.

Qui-Gon exited the improvised throne room. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at the Queen's naïve ideas. As if the Gungans could help anyone! He had seen them; he had even talked to them. What did the Queen think they could do, slobber the droids to death? Well, talk them to death, more likely. Qui-Gon knew that he would drop dead if he'd have to listen to a Gungan for more than half a minute. Thankfully, he still had his Padawan, who would usually take over once Qui-Gon lost interest.

Qui-Gon frowned. He had just remembered that Obi-Wan wouldn't be his apprentice for very much longer – he wondered if he could make Anakin take care of his foundlings, and if he would have to take care of Anakin's foundlings in return, should the boy pick any up. Suddenly, he realized that he would have to teach Anakin to do all the things that up to now used to be Obi-Wan's chores – and that the time when these tasks were fulfilled efficiently and silently would soon be over.

With that unpleasant prospect in mind, he stomped off towards his room to stuff his knitting equipment back into his small travel bag. It would not do to leave this almost finished masterpiece on the Queen's ship.

A soft voice stopped him.

"Master, I wondered – could I please talk to you for a minute?"

"Oh, you're still there? You are still there!" Qui-Gon said, sounding a bit startled. He had been so engrossed in his visions of future misery and bad food and his future apprentice that he had completely forgotten about his current apprentice. He was quite delighted to discover that Obi-Wan was still there, two steps behind and one to the side, as he had always been.

Obi-Wan frowned, unsure of what his Master was trying to say with that.

"Of course I'm still here, Master. Where else should I be?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, never mind. What were you saying, Pada-"

"QUIIIIIIIIII-GOOOOOON!" Anakin screamed, running towards the tall Jedi and hugging his legs, because that was as far up as he could reach.

"Hello, Anakin," Qui-Gon beamed. He reached down to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling gently at Anakin. "So how are you doing? What have you been up to all this time?"

Obi-Wan noticed the way Qui-Gon's eyes sparkled with delight when Anakin came flying down the corridor. It seemed the boy had chased away the gloomy thoughts Obi-Wan had picked up just moments ago coming along the bond he shared with Qui-Gon.

Deciding that he was just intruding and didn't want to interrupt the happy bonding between the sole two members of what would doubtlessly soon be Jedi Orders most famous Master-Padawan team, Obi-Wan sighed softly once, glancing wistfully at Qui-Gon and Anakin, and left the two of them alone.

oOo

The Padawan walked towards the cockpit, skilfully dodging two or three handmaidens on the way there – he had gotten quite good at that, with all the practise he had been getting.

Just as he arrived at the door to the cockpit, the sleek silver ship left hyperspace with a lurch and a shiver that made the floor vibrate under Obi-Wan's boots. Obi-Wan opened the door and entered the cockpit. Off in the distance, looking no bigger than a perfectly round egg (if any such oddity existed), Naboo hung in the nothingness of space without any apparent means of support. Obi-Wan always marveled how the forces of nature (and the forces of the Force) worked together to keep a planet from simply crashing down from the place where it had been hung up in the endless folds of black space uncountable eternities ago – at how everything in this whole universe worked together so flawlessly to create something as intricate and complex and wonderful and mindbogglingly defying comprehension as life.

Then, he noticed that the only other thing hanging there next to Naboo was one single, tiny control ship that looked as if someone had cut off the string with which it was supposed to be attached to the ceiling amid many similar ones – only there was no ceiling. And no other spaceships. The whole fleet, the armada that had surrounded Naboo when they had last seen it disappearing in the distance, was gone. All that was left was one single measly little battle station. It seemed the Trade Federation was not particularly concerned with the possibility of someone deciding to oust their army from Naboo – which would not be such a huge feat, seeing as they would only have to attack one single ship to deactivate the whole army.

Obi-Wan didn't think that the Trade Federation would be that stupid and careless, otherwise they couldn't possibly have amassed as much money and gained as much political influence as they had.

He went over to the pilot, who confirmed that the viceroy must apparently be even more lackadaisical the Padawan could have thought possible: "I have one battle ship on my scope," he announced. So no sneaky little ambush hiding behind the planet where they couldn't see it, either.

"It's a droid control ship." Obi-Wan was back to pointing out the obvious. It was a pretty gratuitous thing to do, but it was one of Obi-Wan's most successful strategies in dealing with people: no one could possibly disagree with the obvious after all – at least that's what he thought before Anakin became his Padawan. It is a well-known fact that Masters learn as much from their Padawans as the other way around. In his time as Anakin's Master, Obi-Wan learned from his apprentice that it was indeed not only possible to disagree with the obvious, but also to blatantly deny it even when faced with undeniable facts – and somehow still get away with it.

"They've probably spotted us," Captain Panaka sharply concluded.

"We haven't much time." Obi-Wan told no one in particular, just in case the precariousness of their situation hadn't registered with everyone in the cockpit yet.

Although landing the ship wasn't exactly all that complicated, there was one thing worth noting about it: the gleaming vessel flew over a lushly green and quite dense forest. Obviously the pilots were looking for an adequate landing site, but there was no clearing in sight that would accommodate the spaceship. So instead of finding one, the pilots just lowered their craft and it simply disappeared in a space where there was no way a ship that size could land without crushing a good dozen trees in the progress. Still, somehow, they did just that.

The engines came to a stop with a quiet whine, the ramp hissed as it was extended and then settled down on the moist, springy ground of the swampy side of Naboo. Qui-Gon was the first to rush out. He walked a short distance away from the ship and then stood still, enjoying the way the Living Force swirled around him and the hundreds of trees, the thousands of smaller plants, the millions of tiny insects, the bazillions of microbial life forms. For a few minutes, he was utterly lost in the colourful whirl that was life, while Obi-Wan took care of more practical matters.

"Anakin, please remember to use the fresher before we leave the ship. We don't know what this day will bring, and we want to be prepared, don't we?" Obi-Wan sent Anakin off with a friendly wave of his hand.

"Aye, sir!" Anakin shouted back, mock-saluting Obi-Wan, and dashed off to use the fresher. He was extremely excited at the prospect of his first real mission as an almost-Jedi. This was going to be great!

Obi-Wan watched the boy leave with a slight smile on his face before he turned to the inevitable bunch of handmaidens that had once again gathered behind him. His expression became stern again as he resolutely told them that no matter what fashion dictated, they would not walk through the forest on stilettos. Pouting, the girls left to exchange their beautiful and expensive shoes for much duller and infinitely more practical ones.

Turning around, his eyes searching for Qui-Gon, who must be around somewhere staring into the foliage or maybe into a pond, becoming intoxicated with the magnificence of the Living Force if the bond informed him right, Obi-Wan spotted Jar Jar leaning against a tree.

"Hi, Jar Jar," Obi-Wan approached the Gungan. "What are you doing?"

"Mesa just standin' here, watchin' da hustle an da bustle of all thesen people dis… disem… disemb… getten off da ship," Jar Jar finally finished.

Obi-Wan stood next to him for a moment, looking at what so transfixed Jar Jar.

"Yes, very interesting," he conceded, "but haven't you forgotten something?"

The Gungan only answered with a wide-eyed and undeniably dim-witted stare directed at a point just slightly above Obi-Wan's left ear.

Taking a step to the left so that he could catch the Gungan's eyes with his own – to make sure his message was getting through – Obi-Wan reminded him: "The Queen asked for your help, remember? You promised her to talk to your boss, ask for the help of the Gungans."

One could practically see how the recollection of a conversation that had taken place not half an hour ago returned to Jar Jar's yellow eyes, where it lit a spark of realization. "Oooooh, yes! Yousa right!" Jar Jar sounded thrilled at that, for what reason, Obi-Wan couldn't fathom.

The Gungan quickly hugged a very surprised Padawan before he ambled right past Qui-Gon and with an impressive somersault disappeared into the murky depth of the lake.

Slowly, Obi-Wan walked over to Qui-Gon. He didn't quite know what to say, how to broach the subject of Anakin and their whole awkward situation – so he chose not to.

"Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan city, Master," he informed Qui-Gon. Maybe that was not the most intelligent thing to say, as it was pretty obvious that Jar Jar had just disappeared in the lake with a noisy splash, but at least Qui-Gon could not argue with it.

In fact, he barely reacted to it.

"Good," he said absently, not even bothering to look at his Padawan.

Obi-Wan was not discouraged by his Master's rather cold manner – and he knew his Master too well to give up so easily. Granted, Qui-Gon could be exasperatingly stubborn, but so could Obi-Wan, should he choose to.

"Do you think the Queen's idea will work?" he asked his Master, the picture of a devoted and respectful Padawan. Obi-Wan wanted to avoid further disagreements at all costs, and that meant being extremely careful around his Master who would sometimes take offence at the weirdest things. So the Padawan would have to be on his best behaviour for the next few days if he didn't want to strain his relationship with Qui-Gon any further.

"The Gungans will not be easily swayed," Qui-Gon assessed the situation. Finally, he turned around and looked at Obi-Wan. "And we cannot use our power to help her," he said, half full of regret that he couldn't use a few mind tricks and half as if he wanted to accuse Obi-Wan of planning to do exactly that and to rebuke him for it.

Qui-Gon proved obstinately oblivious to his Padawan's subtler preludes to apology.

Obi-Wan decided it was time to be a bit less subtle, then.

"I'm sorry for my behaviour, Master," he said quietly, looking down ashamedly and apologetically. "It's not my place to disagree with you about the boy."

His eyes flickered up to meet Qui-Gon's, who had finally managed to tear his gaze from the compelling play of light on foliage. It seemed Qui-Gon would only look upon his errant apprentice after said apprentice had apologized for something that hadn't even been childish wilfulness but reasonable doubt expressed in Obi-Wan's usual polite and respectful way. But of course, the mere notion that the great Master Qui-Gon might have erred was completely inconceivable, and thus it simply could not be true. It would probably end with Qui-Gon placing the blame for this rift between the Master and the apprentice on his Padawan – as he usually did with just about anything.

"And I am grateful you think I am ready to take the trials."

Obi-Wan tried a tentative smile, and was glad that he managed to draw one from his Master in response.

He really was grateful that someone had finally brought up this particular subject with the Council – at times he had feared he would become famous as the oldest apprentice in the history of the Jedi Temple.

Qui-Gon's answer was completely unexpected.

"You've been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon quietly said, putting a warm and heavy hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, "and you're a much wiser man than I am. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."

Obi-Wan was completely baffled. Wide eyes stared up at Qui-Gon, confusion, surprise and joy written on Obi-Wan's face in equal measures. Qui-Gon's sudden kindness when he had anticipated another sharp rebuke because he had not though to remember bigger fish or some such nonsense came absolutely unexpected – but was not in the least unwelcome.

The warm pride that glowed in Qui-Gon's eyes as he gave Obi-Wan that gentle smile made up for all the troubles he had recently had with his often insensitive and eternally stubborn Master.

And Qui-Gon had said that he thought Obi-Wan was a much wiser man than him – which was a blatant contradiction to the Jedi Master's behaviour. More often than not, he simply chose to disregard Obi-Wan's opinions or even to completely discerp them with his words.

As for the last sentence, that Qui-Gon foresaw Obi-Wan becoming a great Jedi Knight – well, Qui-Gon was not exactly renowned for his ability to foresee things, with his strength almost exclusively with the Living Force, and his visions were highly unreliable.

Still, it felt nice to hear the words from Qui-Gon, anyway.

While Obi-Wan remained standing at the shore, for once lost in somewhat of a happy daze instead of his usual anxious concerns, Qui-Gon wandered off to tell everyone he met that he foresaw them becoming great handmaidens/pilots/captains/queens/trees, depending on whom he was talking to, and he told them that he will grant them three wishes because he couldn't imagine that his name was Qui-Gon Djinn for nothing. The handmaidens eagerly perked up at that, but they soon lost interest once Qui-Gon told them about the limits of his ability to fulfil wishes: apparently, death and love were out of bounds. It seemed the Living Force had been a bit more intoxicating than even Obi-Wan had suspected.

Fortunately, Obi-Wan didn't hear that, or else it would have dealt a lethal blow to his good mood.

oOo

Edited on 20th February, 2011