A Fracture of the Soul


Qui Gon watched as the healers escorted Tahl's immobile form away to the Halls of Healing. Anxiety uncharacteristically filled him, born from a concern for the only woman (and perhaps the only person) he could truly love. It was understandable to feel like this, he reminded himself. It was only natural to fear the loss of those you loved, but it was unerringly close to Falling. Qui Gon did as he had been taught to do in such a situation: he took that ball of uncertainty and fear, and gave it to the Force. With the emotions eased, he could see beyond himself, and felt Tahl's Force bond with him. She was in no danger. She would recover. He nearly slumped in relief. The tension in his shoulders did dissipate.

"Qui Gon," a voice warbled softly. The Jedi master turned to find Master Tyvokka approaching. Qui Gon offered a swift bow to the Councilor, though he could hardly muster anymore respect for the master than that at the moment. Qui Gon felt…weary. "The Council is busy dealing with another matter of great urgency. I've been sent to take your report in person, and assess the details of your mission."

More important than Tahl?His rebellious mind mocked. Qui Gon pushed the ugly thoughts and feelings away. Tahl would not be pleased with them.

"I see," he said instead of what his mouth wanted him to say, for his mouth all too often ran away without his mind as a youth. No more. He had mastered it years ago. He could master it now. Absently, he wondered what could be so important to dictate this breach in procedure. The Council loved procedure, after all. "The mission did not go well. When we arrived, we learned that Master Tahl had been taken prisoner and tortured by one of the factions. It was difficult to determine why they called a Jedi, and what the purpose of her imprisonment was. I know what was said, but deceit coated their words. I managed to recover Master Tahl, even if I did not come to understand the politics of the world. She has been taken to the Healing Halls."

"It is fortunate that you completed your task. Your report indicates a lamentation about being unable to understand what the factions represented, or what differences there were between the Melida and the Daan," Master Tyvokka replied soothingly. He looked quite sympathetic. Indeed, Qui Gon only understood that there were two sides. But what of the identities that comprised these groups of people? What made them different? What made them alike? Why did they fight? He found no answers, and thus Qui Gon paid no more heed to the situation of the world than this. He had no hopes for the future of the people. Even the planet was scarred by the warfare, and though an innocent bystander in this conflict, would struggle to heal long after the people obliterated themselves. It was not even out of the realm of possibility that they would do such irreparable damage they would have another Mandalore on hand—only this one would need no bombardment of an enemy. The people were their own enemy.

"How is your padawan handling what he encountered there? It must be sobering to see what the citizens of this galaxy are capable of, to see that even those who live within the Republic can be heartbreakingly cruel."

Qui Gon stiffened at the question. His mind fled momentarily, touching upon memories made and etched into his soul a mere few days ago.

Obi Wan drawing his lightsaber against him. The younger padawan's form overlapping with that of his beloved student's. Cutting the braid, glinting like fire in the sunlight. Fear. Fear Fear Fear.

Qui Gon drew in a slow, deep breath to center himself in the present once more. He released his emotions into the Force yet again, careful that Master Tyvokka did not feel their shape, only their presence. When he was steady once more, he drew the lightsaber—

Obi Wan's wonder as he ignited his blade for the first time and beheld its visible song.

-from its resting place within his robes. Wrapped around the hilt a coppery braid—

Plaiting the first bead at the top, Obi Wan's smile bright and innocent when he had not been innocent in many days following Bandomeer.

-barely long enough to encompass the circumference once, with a mere bit to tie. It was heartbreakingly short, and Qui Gon did not want to think about all of the implications of that. He simply handed over the weapon of a Jedi to Master Tyvokka. Now, it only served as an impetuous boy's resignation.

"He chose to leave the Order for a girl."

Something complicated crossed the Councilor's face. After a moment, he took the lightsaber—so small and delicate in such a large and powerful hand—with all of the grace such a delicate companion deserved. Qui Gon felt soothed that this master knew how to treat it better than the child who carried it had.

"I am sorry,"the wookie told him earnestly, gentleness making his voice warble with compassion and comfort. "It is always difficult when those close to us leave us. Is he happy?"

Qui Gon thought of that hot, impulsive defiance Obi Wan displayed, so readily given, and so readily taken from the children he spent all of a breath of time with. Obi Wan was so easily loyal to utter strangers. Perhaps they were children, like him, but Qui Gon sensed that they were kindred spirits, and it was for the best Obi Wan be with his own kind, never to learn how to be powerful like a Jedi, when his soul was warlike, like those children. At the very least, Obi Wan was with his own kind, housed, fed, and his allies were capable despite their age. "Safe enough. Happy enough."

"Then you've done your job well." Master Tyvokka tucked the lightsaber away. Qui Gon's eyes lingered on it until it was out of sight. "We will need to process your mission report before we can fill out former Padawan Kenobi's resignation. It is irregular, this process, but so is this situation. Will you please add the details of his resignation to the report you've submitted to us?"

Qui Gon readily agreed. He had not put it in because he had been uncertain of what he wanted to say. Obi Wan had held a weapon against him, and tried to threaten him into helping topple a government on the whims of children. It would tarnish Obi Wan's reputation. Qui Gon supposed that wasn't really important since the boy would not be returning, but he stillowedhis padawan—former padawan. The sudden sagging of Master Tyvokka's shoulders drew Qui Gon out of his head.

As if one could age a thousand years in a single second, Master Tyvokka was hunched, face crumpled. Qui Gon didn't understand. He did not have this response to the initial news of Obi Wan's leaving.

"I cannot believe that child has left the Order. He was the one I was most certain of, when Feemor brought him here, the one of all the children in his group to embody what it means to be a Jedi. He would have been a light, the light of all lights—" Master Tyvokka broke off. Qui Gon was a little taken aback to know that it was Feemor who had brought the boy here. That was no coincidence. Just as Master Tyvokka, who was not quite accursed with shatterpoints, but not accursed with visions either, knew of Obi Wan and held him in a positive regard. "Sometimes, I feel it is as if there is a great shadow cast over us, guiding us into a corner we cannot escape from, making us doubt our own senses and gifts."

Whatever Qui Gon felt about these circumstances, his companion's words rang true in the Force, and made them both grimace.

"Go rest, Qui Gon," Master Tyvokka commanded. "You've earned yourself a break, if not a sabbatical."

I will rest when I am in the grave, the man's witty tongue wanted to retort. But Qui Gon had long ago mastered it, and held it.

The Councilor departed. Qui Gon looked once more towards the direction of the Healing Halls. The idle, cursedly idle, part of his brain wondered if he had traded the life of one loved one for another. The logical part of his brain reminded it that one had to care for both parties, and he did not.

I made sure that I didn't love him, because I always knew he would end up betraying me, though Qui Gon. From the beginning, Obi Wan had been a troublesome apprentice. He projected his emotions too much, bonded too easily, paid too much heed to his visions. Worst of all, he reached out to Qui Gon in the Force like a child reaching out for a parent even though he was much too old for such things.

Kenobi made his choice.

Kenobi betrayed me.

He made his choices and he must live with them.

Qui Gon turned, walking towards his rooms. He was tired, and it went bone-deep. But when he entered his rooms, they were quiet and empty. The silence echoed like a mournful cry, haunting and eerie.