Chapter 24: The Padawan

The lightsabers clashed furiously, sparks flying as green and purple collided with wrathful frequency, the combatants beyond angry as their eyes narrowed in rage. The blades moved so fast they left trails of colors through the air as the weapons struck and showered sparks around their feet. Despite the impressive nature of the vicious fight, the other Jedi had cleared out quickly, Masters taking their Padawans from the room and Knights fleeing in fear. It may have been just a sparring match, but it didn't seem like it when both men were walking dangerously close to the Dark Side. The training room was empty, save for the two combatants and a lone, newly selected Padawan, sitting in a chair near the ring and dutifully taking notes.

The blades locked, purple over green, and Mace pushed forward, snarling viciously as he looked at the similarly violent face of Quinlan Vos. The days following the Battle of Geonosis and the start of the Clone Wars was sobering, numbing to the entire Jedi Order. But now, the peace delegation was returning from Mandalore with supposed success, and the shock of Obi-Wan's survival and betrayal was beginning to wear off. Many Jedi were afraid. Less were called to action, the need for justice filling them with purpose in their hunt for the Sith Lord. But Mace Windu and Quinlan Vos were neither of these things. They were furious.

For Mace, it was a matter of personal pride. He was one of the most powerful Jedi in the Order, certainly the greatest duelist, and he had been in charge of coordinating Obi-Wan's activities in Sith Space during his long-term mission after his knighthood. He had extended contact with the young man, had fought with him often, argued with him always, and yet, not once did he feel the Dark Side boiling within the boy. Almost worse, it was Mace that had readied young Kenobi for a confrontation with Dooku, a man that Obi-Wan had, for a very long time, insisted was Sith. Windu had never believed him when he said so, but just in case, he had gone to the Knight to prepare him for what he may face if it came to combat.

The smarter thing would have been to go himself. After all, Dooku and Mace had often tested each other's lightsaber skills, and old as Dooku was, he was vastly talented with a weapon. He never blamed himself, but when Obi-Wan had died, Windu couldn't help but feel that Kenobi should have been better supported for such a dangerous mission, and now, knowing that he was alive, it was clear that many lives could have been spared if only the Masters had listened. Now, another Sith Lord was added to the list, and the betrayal made the Master Jedi absolutely furious.

For Quinlan Vos, it was personal. Obi-Wan had been his friend, easily his best in the Order. He and Obi-Wan shared an antagonistic friendship that was born out of vastly different values, and yet, because of their differences, they complimented each other well, far better than they could have ever expected. And right under his nose, Kenobi had fallen to the Dark Side. The Masters had tried to tell Quinlan it wasn't his doing, but the Kiffar knew better. He was devastated when his friend had died, spending his time drowning the pain in alcohol and women and increasingly dangerous missions, and slowly, the Kiffar came to accept the shocking death of Obi-Wan. His dangerous behavior had continued, but Quinlan just got better at it, opting to bring Obi-Wan's memory with him instead of letting him go.

When he heard his friend wasn't dead, but fallen to the Dark Side, he believed it immediately. Kenobi's death was senseless, pointless and lost for meaning, but his turn to the Sith felt...natural. He couldn't believe he hadn't felt this could have happened. After all, Obi-Wan's powers had grown in their time in Sith Space, his obsession with killing the Sith leading him to increasingly reckless behavior to find them. Quinlan had felt a change in Kenobi, yes, but he thought nothing of it. After all, he wasn't one to judge a Jedi for flirting with the Dark Side, since he did it often enough. But Kenobi...

When the shock wore off, he was left angry, not at Obi-Wan, but at himself. For not noticing the darker change, for not feeling the Dark Side swirling within him, for encouraging behavior that ended up shaping the Sith Lord, for not being there when hid friend had fallen. It was self-loathing at its finest, and despite his rage, he didn't hate Obi-Wan, couldn't find it in himself to face him, though he knew he would have to. Obi-Wan probably needed to die, but Quinlan knew he didn't have it in him to do it.

The fury consumed both Masters, and they recognized it quickly, which led them here, fighting for all they were worth, allowing their beings to teeter dangerously close to the Dark Side in an effort to purge themselves of their anger, expend their energy and hatred through combat so they may once again find focus. It was weirdly working.

Sweat dripped from the Masters as they threw everything they had against each other, their feet skidding on the ground as they blocked and dodged and lunged, dust rising from the compacted dirt of the arena, the entire ring scorched with deep, burning lines from deflected saber strikes. The fight had gone on for a long time, and they were both beginning to wear and make mistakes, barely dodging wild, swift strikes, and once or twice, Mace's purple saber had singed through the growling Kiffar's hair.

In an instant, Mace struck home with a vicious growl, thrusting the saber up through the other Master's stomach, the blade extending out through the howling Kiffar's back, but even then, the wrathful man wasn't stopped. With the last of his strength, he drove his green lightsaber through Mace's back, piercing both Windu's lungs and his own. Their bodies stiffened, and despite the saber's low settings, the pain was burning through them, their fatigue and worn defenses only making it worse. They both dropped to the ground, the sabers deactivating and the Masters coughed, wheezing from pain and exhaustion and sweat dripping from their faces onto the dust on the ground.

Quinlan started laughing, softly at first, but it quickly built into a loud, easy thing that made him even more breathless than before. "That was...necessary." Mace nodded, but said nothing. "I really needed that."

"You're going to have to fight like that if you're going to kill that Sith."

Quinlan scoffed, rising to his feet. "That Sith was always better with a lightsaber than me. At my best, I couldn't beat him."

"I'm better than you," Mace drawled, brushing the dust off his robes and running his hand over his bald head. "But you still won that fight."

"If it was a real duel, I'd be dead."

"Yes, but so would I. That's still victory."

"Uh, no. No it isn't." He whistled, and the Padawan in the chair looked up and jumped to her feet, clutching the datapad to her chest and running into the ring. "Are you listening to this, Ahsoka?"

The Togruta nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes, Master."

"Oh good. Ignore it. There's no victory in death." The Padawan frowned and opened the datapad, drawing a line across the screen, and Mace groaned.

"Is this how you trained Secura?"

"Nope! Aayla was an easier temperament than this one." He winked at the Padawan, the young teen grinning with pride, tugging at the beaded chain that hung from her lekku, serving as a substitute for a Padawan braid on her hairless head. Mace just rolled his eyes, clipping his saber on to his belt.

"Master Yoda should be back from Mandalore by now. I need to confer with him. We'll do this again."

"Next time, I'm going to shove my saber right up your ass. Be ready for that, sweetheart." Windu just glared at the grinning Master, shaking his head as he left the training arena for the Council chamber. Ahsoka stood next to her towering Master, looking up at him with awe and respect. Quinlan was notorious, and a lot of the initiates, as eager as they were to become Padawans, didn't want to be taken in by a controversial Master. Ahsoka, however, wasn't a normal initiate. She was fourteen years old, easily the oldest in her group, having failed to be taken in for training several times in the past. It wasn't that she lacked for talent, no, Ahsoka Tano had it in abundance, both in terms of lightsaber skill and Force potential, but the girl was...arrogant. Cocky and stubborn and reckless and impulsive with a mouth on her that failed to show even the slightest inkling towards respect, the Masters had said, and not just once, far more times than she could count.

She did try to improve her chances, but as Master Plo was always saying, she was...willful, and the Knights and Masters looking to take on a Padawan were all nervous in the wake of the return of the Sith and Dooku's betrayal. Now with the legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi exposed as a Sith Lord as well, her chances of being chosen had gone from slim to none. Nobody wanted to be the Jedi that trained the next one to fall, the next Sith Lord. Nobody wanted the pain that Qui-Gon Jinn faced every single day. And then there was Quinlan Vos.

Ahsoka couldn't believe it when the Kiffar Master had selected her out of the group of younger initiates, especially after her frantic, erratic showing. Nobody else could believe it either. Several Masters actually attempted to sway him to another student, but it seemed like their disapproval only made Master Vos more certain of his decision. The Togruta couldn't have been more pleased. After all, one of her earliest memories was of Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Sithkiller before he became Sith himself, and the young girl had wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan at the time. Now, she didn't know what to feel about Obi-Wan. She knew how she was told to feel, that the man was a traitor, a coward, a menace that had to be put down, but when she thought about the man and his reserved, blue eyes and a desire to protect the Jedi from the Sith, all she could feel was sympathy and pity. Not understanding, of course, but she felt bad for him. It was a difficult path he had chosen, and something awful must have happened to turn him from the only home, the only family he had ever known.

Her one brief, fleeting encounter with the Sithkiller had shaped her, though, filled her with a burning desire to defeat the Sith so the Jedi could once again be safe. She feared that day would never come, but when Quinlan Vos took her hand, she could not have been more pleased. This was her chance, and she stood beside one of the greatest Masters in the Order. It felt right. Deep within her, she knew that only a wild, unconventional mess of a Jedi could train her right. After all, the Kiffar had done wonders with Aayla Secura, and she was known to be ridiculously mischievous. Ahsoka Tano would never make it as the Padawan of a great Jedi like Master Windu or Luminara Unduli...but she might do well under the wild and untamed Quinlan Vos.

And better yet, it was said that her new Master was best friends with Obi-Wan Kenobi, her childhood hero and recent enemy of the Jedi Order. This was only her second day as the man's Padawan, so she hadn't had a chance to ask about Kenobi yet, but she would. She imagined that the subject was sensitive, even if the renegade was no longer dead. The idea of a Jedi turned Sith was...unsettling at best, and she knew there were many around that wished Obi-Wan had the good sense to lose his life against Dooku instead of joining him. She wasn't sure if Quinlan was one of those people yet.

"Well," Quinlan said, smacking the dust off his robes, only to leave dustier hand prints in his wake, "second day on the job and you aren't dead yet."

"Neither are you, Master." He grinned widely at his slyly smirking learner and laughed, large hand on her back and leading the Togruta out of the ring.

"If Yoda's back, so is Qui-Gon and Luminara. I'm sure one of them had the opportunity to slap Kenobi around." He took a deep breath, stretching his arms up towards the vaulted ceiling. "Let's go interrogate them! That's a very important skill for a Jedi, Obi-Wan taught me that." He glowered. "Before he was Sith..."

"...Master?" It was as good a time as any. The Kiffar looked down at her, his brown eyes affected with a lazy ease. "You were friends with Obi-Wan, right?"

Quinlan scoffed. "I am friends with him, Ahsoka. He's just..." He growled, running his hand through his thick, messy hair. "Alright, you know how sometimes you have that friend that has a spice addiction? And he can't get off of it, and he's lost everything and meets with his dealers in back allies to, you know..." He pointed to his mouth. "Oral sex for drugs. You know?" Ahsoka shook her head, blushing. "Oh. Well, you know how you have that friend that gets hooks on death sticks? And you try to stop him, but he ends up in clubs giving lap dances to Senators? Right?"

"I-I don't think I know anyone like that..."

"Damn it, Ahsoka...alright! You know how you have that friend that can't stop spreading his legs for bad boys?" Ahsoka's orange face turned a shade of red and she bit her lower lip, her discomfort going unnoticed by the Master. "And every single time you're out with him, boy walks by, gives him that look, and it's pants down, ass up in the middle of the street! Horribly embarrassing. Tiny bit sexy. Next thing you know, you're buried inside your friend and he won't stop badgering you for sex!"

"Kriffing Hell, Master, what sort of people are you hanging out with!"

"The wrong kinds, apparently," he mumbled, smirking lazily at the Jedi they passed that were giving the pair very strange looks. "Look, the point is, Obi-Wan is that friend for me."

"...he's a drugged out, lascivious reprobate?"

"Yes, exactly!" Quinlan shrugged. "But his drug of choice is the Dark Side, and Obi-Wan was never very sexual, but if you're going to join the Sith and not have sex, what's the kriffing point? That's, like, the one thing those passion obsessed bastards have over the Jedi."

The Padawan looked at him curiously. "Master, I have heard that you engage in a great deal of physical passion."

"What, me?!" The Kiffar shouted, surprised, a hand on his chest and clutching his heart from the shock of the accusation. "I would never! Who have you heard this from?!"

"Barriss," she drawled, and Quinlan clenched his jaw. "She says you talk to Master Luminara about everything." She crossed her arms over her tiny chest. "I believe her."

"Yeah, you probably should." Vos laughed loudly, nudging his Padawan along. He liked this girl. "Those Mirialans are disgustingly trustworthy. Don't believe a word they say."

"Didn't you just say I should-"

"The point, Ahsoka, is that when you have a friend that is self-destructing in the most fantastic way possible, you can put him out of his misery or just...watch as he burns. And I do hate to ruin a guy's fun..."

"You want the Sith to live?"

"No, stupid, I want to put him in a rehabilitation facility! Obi-Wan Kenobi was like my brother. I was with him when he got positively wasted and went to bed with two beautiful women at once! I was with him when he was nearly killed and eaten by Dark Side cave ghouls on a Sith world! And...I was with him when he began developing the skills that he would eventually use when he became the Negotiator. He started to fall with me." Quinlan stopped walking and leaned against a wall, covering the yellow tattoo on his face with his hand. "In hindsight, it's so obvious, I must be an idiot to not have seen it..."

His carefree voice was much quieter now and laden with guilt and concern, and Ahsoka felt a surge of sympathy for the man. She reached out with the Force to touch at his mind, and recoiled when she felt the Kiffar throw up his defenses, blocking her out and looking at her with a cold glare. Her blue eyes widened with hurt; she didn't mean to offend the Master, presume too much by reaching out to him, and she felt awful. She bit her lip and looked away, letting go of the Force and letting the Master be.

She only moved when she felt the Kiffar sigh, his callused, tanned hand cupping her face and drawing her close, delicately stroking the lekku that fell over her shoulder as he touched her with the Force, warm and comforting and apologetic, and Ahsoka sighed, dropping her defenses and letting him in. She felt his presence within him, felt him drop his own defenses and draw her into himself as well, and images from the Kiffar's life flashed through her mind. He had always been rambunctious, much like her, and as he grew, he only got more free-spirited. She saw his many drunken nights, brief flashes of his passions with women, his successful missions, his very few failed ones.

But most of all, she saw Obi-Wan, the Jedi Knight that the Kiffar had been so close to that the two men had formed a bond through the Force, which was excessively rare to occur between anyone outside of a Master Padawan relationship. The Jedi philosophy of remaining unattached prevented this from happening, but for Quinlan Vos and Obi-Wan Kenobi, two Jedi that very much existed outside the confines of the Code, their deep friendship was undeniable. The pain of his friend's death was severe, a Force bond brutally cut that left the Kiffar reeling and lost, driving the man to becoming a functional alcoholic in his absence. And then, the Jedi learned that Kenobi was a Sith, and the pain was replaced by rage, knowing that the man had lived and left his friends and family forever, effectively making the past six years of mourning amount to nothing at all.

In their shared mental state, Ahsoka felt a connection form between herself and her Master, a thin stream of the Force opening between them that, if properly nurtured, could become a mighty river. She could feel it deep within herself; she was a good fit for Quinlan Vos.

Ahsoka didn't know she was crying until the Kiffar's thumb wiped tears away from her cheek, and she gasped, looking up at him and shaking her head. "I-I'm sorry, Master, I-"

"Don't apologize. It is sad. You should have seen Qui-Gon, I thought he was going to kill himself."

"A Jedi wouldn't do that...w-would they?"

Quinlan shrugged. "We're people too, Ahsoka. Grief does some shit to people, even to the best of Jedi." He smiled, taking his hand from the Padawan's face and lightly punching her thin shoulder. Smirking, the Togruta punched him back, though much harder. Quinlan's grin grew wider. "Ahsoka Tano. You're going to be good for me, I think."

Quinlan and Ahsoka found the returned Jedi fairly easily. They just had to follow the commotion. The Padawan eyed her Master when he very easily followed a path of frustrated Jedi to the infirmary. She suspected that everywhere her Master went would be like this. The Kiffar seemed to attract a fair amount of chaos, and he did seem to like it.

"Are all your friends this disruptive?" she drawled, and the Master smirked.

"My best friend is a Sith Lord. What do you think?" Ahsoka shrugged. That did seem to explain it, and without another question, she followed Quinlan into the infirmary. They easily found the Jedi they were looking for and, like a few days earlier, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan, was laying in a bed with his right hand missing. Quinlan erupted in laughter.

"Oh no, Skywalker!" he cried between gasps of helpless laughter. "What happened? Did the Negotiator talk your hand off?"

"He cut it off, Master Vos..." Anakin growled through clenched teeth, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Oh, I bet he did. He must like you, Anakin, this is beginning to seem a bit like foreplay."

"Or maybe he's just in over his head," Ahsoka drawled next to her Master, and Anakin's sharp blue eyes snapped to the newcomer.

"...Master Vos. What is that."

"That is my new Padawan, Ahsoka Tano." The girl put her hands on her hips, chin raised proudly, and Anakin just smirked.

"Really? She seems too old to be just getting started, she must be a reject. You picked pretty badly, Master."

"Badly?!" Ahsoka strode forward and glared at the smirking teen. "At least I still have my hands," she drawled, wiggling her fingers, "Skyguy."

"Wait, what did you just call me?!" Anakin threw his legs over the edge of the bed and drew up to his full height, chest puffed and looking as impressive as he could, which was admittedly not much with a missing, mechanical hand. "Don't you get snippy with me, I've been a Padawan since I was nine! I've seen real combat, what have you done?"

"Well, kept both of my hands, to start..."

Anakin growled and was quietly shoved back on the bed by Qui-Gon, the quiet Master giving him a look that said he had enough with Skywalker's anger for the day. With a huff, Anakin threw himself back, closing his eyes and waiting for his mechanical arm to be repaired.

"This is your new Padawan?" Luminara asked, aghast, and the Kiffar grinned broadly.

"Sure is!"

"Not much in terms of deference and respect, is she?"

"Luminara, why would I want that. The last Jedi I was with that was respectful and uptight turned to the Sith. I need a fierce fighter, and this girl's it." The Mirialan looked the Kiffar over, her chest tight. She was still stressed and strained about what had happened on Mandalore, and Quinlan had refused to go for fear of meeting his old friend. If he was so easily talking about it now, than staying behind must have done him some good. Her own Padawan was now talking excitedly talking with young Ahsoka. She knew Barriss had a friend in the Togruta, but she didn't expect the girl to be this...willful. Her own Padawan was so respectful and obedient, that it seemed strange that such different people would be such fast friends. Though, she supposed, a similar relationship existed between Quinlan and Obi-Wan before his turn.

"How have things been here?" Luminara asked, drawing closer to Quinlan, and the Master shrugged easily.

"Fine. The Order is preparing for war. The Council is preparing to announce their new Council members. Congratulations on your promotion, by the way, General Luminara."

"General?!" the woman gasped, shocked, and she grabbed hold of Quinlan's arm, partly to bring him down closer to her, and partly for support. "They made me a general?"

He nodded. "With your own ship to command, and seven thousand clones to serve under you."

"T-that's madness!"

"I know!" he chirped, smiling broadly and his brown eyes seeming to dance with excitement. "Ahsoka and I went to see the fleet this morning. The Tranquility is beautiful, you'll like her!"

"We just came back from peace talks, what is the Republic doing assigning us to warships?!"

"Well nobody actually thinks this will work out." He rolled his eyes when Luminara grit her teeth in frustration, her little green hands tightly gripping the folds of her long robe. "It's not just you, Qui-Gon and I are generals as well. We've got ships as well." The Kiffar crossed his arms, grinning. "I named mine the Dauntless!"

"...well, at least that's fitting..."

The woman was silent, and Quinlan carefully cleared his throat, drawing so close to her that her thin body brushed his. "...how was Mandalore?"

"Bad, Quinlan, if Anakin's hand is any indication."

"That isn't an indication at all, he's making a habit of losing hands, it would seem."

She shook her head and ran her hand over her face. She was suddenly overcome with weariness. The past few hours hadn't seemed real. "He ran circles around the Senator, and all without use of the Force. Obi-Wan got everything he wanted with nearly no effort at all. He even got her to sign a proposal for peace that he wrote before the meeting."

Quinlan laughed loudly. "Well, that's Obi-Wan for you. I told you he'd be dangerous."

"I never doubted that." Luminara sighed heavily and leaned against the taller Jedi. "But he's more dangerous than we realize. Master Yoda said so as well. He got a chance to look within him, Quinlan, and he said he saw only darkness. There is no saving him."

"...did he look like himself, at least?" The Mirialan considered this quietly for a moment before she slowly nodded.

"He's concealing his Force presence, but...yes. He felt like Obi-Wan. He looked like him as well, except for the eyes." She shivered. "Master Yoda says he's still Obi-Wan, but all that's left is the Dark Side. It's time to let go."

"If he's still Obi-Wan, than he's still Obi-Wan." Quinlan smirked, watching the Mirialan Master shake her head in dismay. "If he isn't twisted beyond all recognition, than that's good enough for me. A little bit of the Dark Side never scared away Quinlan Vos."

"It isn't a little bit of the Dark Side, Quin, he's filled with it! There's nothing left but darkness."

The Kiffar shrugged. "I'll have to see for myself, I suppose. If the peace talks continue, I assume there will be another opportunity to meet with him. And if not..." The Master inclined his head toward his new Padawan. "Little Ahsoka there is untested. The field of battle may be a good place to test her."

"A battlefield is no place for a Padawan, Quinlan!"

"Maybe not," he purred, drawing her close and looking at the three learners, Skywalker, hopelessly frustrated in his bed as a droid affixed a new arm to him, Ahsoka pointing and laughing and making as much fun of him as she could get away with, and Barriss, between the two and trying to keep the peace. "But our Padawans aren't average, are they?"

"...no, I suspect they aren't." A faint smile came to the grim Mirialan's lips, and the Kiffar chuckled deeply.

"I sense greatness in them, Luminara. Just see if they don't come out of this war as legends."