When Obi-Wan stepped from the hangar out into a bright Naboo afternoon two hours later, the mood he sensed was festive – jubilant, even – and the only battle droids in sight stood, deactivated, in neat rows against various walls and in out-of-the-way corners. If the droids had been a little more elegantly designed, they could have been part of the décor.

Beside him, Garen hummed under his breath. "I expected them to be…everywhere."

Obi-Wan smiled briefly. "Her Highness ordered the droids to deactivate. I don't know why they interpreted her orders like this, but that they did is certainly no problem."

Garen chuckled, but sobered when they realized one of the queen's handmaidens was approaching, flanked by two officers Obi-Wan didn't recognize. The trio were still armed, clearly ready for combat, despite the deactivated droids. He didn't fault them for their caution.

"Masters Jedi." The handmaiden inclined her head in greeting. Obi-Wan and Garen returned the gesture. "Her Highness has asked for you to attend her."

BREAK

Padmé – or, more accurately in this instance, Queen Amidala, despite her lack of makeup – greeted them in what appeared to be a conference room. Qui-Gon was already present, standing respectfully and protectively at the queen's side and appearing as unruffled as ever even if his robes were singed in a few places.

Two Neimoidians – Viceroy Nute Gunray and another Obi-Wan didn't recognize – sat at the conference table, ostensibly under guard by the Naboo, but Obi-Wan would bet his annual stipend that Qui-Gon also kept a watchful eye on the prisoners.

"Masters Jedi," Padmé said by way of greeting. "Please accept my thanks for your assistance thus far, and also my apology."

Obi-Wan felt Garen's confusion, but it fell to him as the leader of their side mission to ask, "Apology, Your Highness?"

"For asking yet more assistance from you."

Despite his curiosity, Obi-Wan fell back on diplomatic platitude. "The Jedi are honored to serve."

Her mouth quirked briefly, but she was still the Queen of Naboo, and it was in that role that she spoke.

"The Viceroy wanted me to sign a treaty to legitimize his invasion," Padmé said, and it was a mark in her favor that she made that a simple fact rather than an accusation or denunciation.

"While that treaty was never under serious consideration," she continued, "it is time now to formalize a treaty to end this war. Naboo requests your assistance, Knight Kenobi, in that negotiation."

The objection came easily. "Master Jinn has far more experience than I do, Your Highness."

"Perhaps that is true," Padmé replied. "But I have seen you negotiate in trying circumstances. I've not had that pleasure with Master Jinn. In the immediate circumstance, trying as it is, I'd prefer the negotiator I know."

And trust.

She didn't say the words aloud, but her steady gaze was enough to speak them for her.

Which meant there was only one response Obi-Wan could make.

"It would be my honor, Your Highness."

BREAK

Two days after the battle, Padmé oversaw a celebration of their victory, offering thanks to the Jedi and the Gungans for their assistance. The latter had confused Obi-Wan until Qui-Gon explained that the queen had begged the Gungans to help drive back the Trade Federation droids.

The request was surety, Qui-Gon explained, in case the plan to override the droids' programming failed, and the Gungans had more than proved their worth in combat before the programming override kicked in. Qui-Gon concluded with his hope that the battle would mark a reconciliation of sorts, if not a full rapprochement, between the two Nabooian species.

Obi-Wan had spent those two days negotiating with Nute Gunray and the rest of the Trade Federation representatives, grateful for Qui-Gon's presence, and especially grateful for the subtle suggestions the senior Jedi offered.

Before the celebration began, Obi-Wan had solidified the main points of a treaty between the Nabooians and the Trade Federation. He offered the outline to Padmé when, in full regalia and makeup, about an hour before the festivities began, she came to the Jedi's working space to ensure that he, Qui-Gon, and Garen would attend the celebration.

She reviewed the outline quickly. Through the Force, Obi-Wan understood that her reading speed had little correlation with her comprehension. That realization was reinforced when she looked up with a slight frown.

"You've not addressed their attack on the Jedi Order."

It was the first time Obi-Wan heard her speak in her normal voice while in the royal makeup, and it took him a moment to recover from the discrepancy and respond appropriately.

"Master Nu is leading the team that will present the Order's response," he told her. "But I thank you for considering us."

She studied him for a long moment before handing back the datapad containing the draft treaty.

"I would be remiss," she said, "if I did not remind you that the Jedi and the Naboo were both part of one coordinated attack."

"We understand that, Your Highness," Qui-Gon replied smoothly. "However, the Jedi occupy an…interesting and unusual space in the Republic. It is better if we address our issues separately from Naboo's."

Padmé met Qui-Gon's gaze before meeting Obi-Wan's and holding it, and he could only hope that she had enough sensitivity – Force-assisted or otherwise – to realize their sincerity. This was not the proper time nor place for a more serious, in-depth discussion of the Jedi's place and role in the Republic.

"However dissatisfying it is," she said finally, "if that is the Order's official position, I have no choice but to accept it. But know this."

She straightened even more and shifted into her Queen's persona and voice. "If ever any Jedi requires sanctuary, Naboo will provide it. We will not forget the debt we owe the Order."

BREAK

The celebration lasted well into the night – technically, into the next morning – and Obi-Wan stumbled into the room he'd been given in the palace just as dawn crept over the horizon.

Fortunately, the Force helped him metabolize the various forms of intoxicants that had flowed freely during the celebration so he was only tired, not drunken-tired. A few hours of sleep and a deep meditation should refresh him enough for the coming day.

Not that Obi-Wan expected anyone else to be ready for the day when he was, of course; he doubted anyone else would be awake before midday, so he'd take the opportunity to explore the palace and its surroundings while the others slept.

It would likely be his only opportunity to see any portion of Naboo before he, Qui-Gon, and Garen had to return to Coruscant, and Obi-Wan intended to make the most of it.

His first order of business was a shower. On Naboo, that meant an honest-to-Force water shower rather than the standard shipboard and Temple sonic shower, and he stood under the spray, varying the heat from cool to hot to warm, until the tips of his fingers were more wrinkled than Master Yoda's face.

He dried off with a plush towel and slipped into a pair of silky pajama trousers that only needed to be turned up a little at the hems to fit comfortably. Just as he dropped into his usual meditation pose, a soft knock sounded at his door.

Obi-Wan nudged the door open with the Force – no matter that Master Yoda would say such a thing was frivolous and should be avoided – and supposed he shouldn't be surprised to see Garen standing in the hallway.

Garen grinned at him. "It appears we had the same idea."

"Clearly not," Obi-Wan replied with mock seriousness, "as I am not standing outside your door."

"So the details aren't exact." Garen stepped into the room, the door closing behind him. "The idea was the same: meditate, then explore."

He dropped onto the floor opposite Obi-Wan. "Been a while since we could get together."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "The consequence of one of us having a job that requires exploration as part of it, and the other of us having a job that requires frequent travel."

"Which means it's been ages since we meditated together – and no, the battle bond doesn't count. At all."

Obi-Wan's chuckle faded into a smile at one of his oldest friends. "Then let us meditate. Kyber, flimsi, saber for who leads?"

Garen shook his head. "You're the mission leader, and the mission isn't over until we give our reports."

BREAK

Theed might not be the most beautiful city Obi-Wan would ever see, but he doubted it would be surpassed anytime soon. He'd had that impression before, during the brief time between rescuing the queen's party and escaping Naboo, and now as he and Garen strolled one of the main streets downtown, that certainty was only reinforced.

Where other cities had durasteel construction, Theed had stonework, each building painted or stained in a different color that seemed to have no bearing whatsoever on the building's function.

"Not stone," Garen said when Obi-Wan voiced the thought. Then Garen frowned. "Well, some stone. The rest is durasteel, but finished to look like stone. That sea-blue building ahead is one."

Obi-Wan frowned and stretched out his senses, focusing on the Living Force and the Physical Force - neither of which were his strongest gifts. Still, with a moment's concentration, he detected the tang of durasteel in the building Garen had indicated. The building next to him returned the salt of stone.

He hummed under his breath, and Garen laughed.

"Right," Obi-Wan muttered. "Make fun of me because my strongest affinities are different than yours."

"Not making fun," Garen retorted. "Just amused. But, while we're here, and somewhat on the subject of Force affinities-"

Obi-Wan blinked, replayed Garen's words in his mind, and blinked again. Finally, he shook his head. "No wonder you're a pilot – that was the clumsiest transition I remember in…perhaps ever."

"Just for that, I'm not buying you breakfast." To punctuate his declaration, Garen ducked into the nearest shop – a bakery.

Obi-Wan stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic – more than when they'd first begun their exploration, but still few people wandered the street. Not too surprising since the city had been under siege just a couple of days before.

Garen emerged from the shop, a small pie of some kind steaming in his hand. True to his word, he only had the one. He took a larger-than-polite bite from it.

Obi-Wan caught sight of what looked like a fruit filling and shrugged. "I prefer a savory breakfast."

Garen shot him a dirty look before, still chewing, he gestured to the shop he'd just come out of.

Obi-Wan quirked an eyebrow at him, and Garen gestured to the shop again. With a shrug, Obi-Wan slipped inside and the scent of freshly baked pastries almost made him moan aloud.

The Nabooian attending the shop – a woman who might be three times Padmé's age and twice her size – chuckled.

"Same thing your friend ordered?" she asked in Basic.

Obi-Wan recovered quickly. "Something savory, if you have it?"

"Spiced meat?"

"Yes, thank you."

The transaction was completed quickly and Obi-Wan rejoined Garen, who had already finished his own pie.

"Now that we've secured food," Obi-Wan said, "what was that horrible transition leading up to?"

Garen blew out a breath. "Anakin Skywalker is strong in the Force."

"Very." Obi-Wan took a bite of his pie. The shop attendant had called it spiced meat, but it was flavor, not heat, that spread across his tongue.

"I don't think the life of a knight is right for him."

Obi-Wan swallowed, regretting that he had to answer before taking another bite. It had been years since he'd tasted something so good.

"I agree." He took another bite.

Relief poured off Garen. "I know he needs basic training, like any initiate. When the time's right, I thought I'd offer to take him as my padawan learner."

This time Obi-Wan spoke around the meat in his mouth. "He does love to fly."

Garen eyed him doubtfully. "I thought you'd want him as your padawan."

Obi-Wan shook his head, refraining from taking another bite so he could focus on Garen for a moment. "In another life, perhaps. But I'm newly knighted, and the Council are right that he's too old for traditional training, though he does need to learn the basics, as you say. More importantly-"

He broke off and bit into the meat pie a little too forcefully.

Garen had the courtesy to wait until Obi-Wan swallowed before saying, "More importantly, what?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, but Garen was one of his oldest friends. Garen wouldn't hold what he said against him. Finally, he lowered his voice and said, "I agree that he's not well-suited for the Knight Corps. His background…"

Garen nodded, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but be relieved that he didn't have to spell everything out.

"He's had too much taken away from him already," Obi-Wan said. "And a knight's life is one of sacrifice. It would be difficult for him."

"I think so, too," Garen agreed. "But the Corps – and especially ExploraCorps – are a little more relaxed about how we approach such things. I think he'll do well there, even if he doesn't choose to be my padawan."

Obi-Wan took another bite, chewing thoughtfully as he reached out to the Force, gently inquiring whether Garen's plan was a good one for the Skywalkers.

After a moment, he smiled at his friend. "He will – and he will be your padawan."

"I hope so." Garen grinned briefly before sobering again. "When I spoke to his mother, she said she didn't want to live on Coruscant permanently. She'd prefer outside the Core – Outer Rim specifically, but Mid Rim is acceptable."

"That's a lot of planets to choose from," Obi-Wan observed and shoved the last of the meat pie into his mouth.

Garen shook his head mournfully. "Such horrible manners. How do you manage at diplomatic functions?"

Obi-Wan glanced around. Seeing they were reasonably far from others, he chewed with his mouth open and said, "Years of practice."

"Ew, really? I didn't need to see that." Garen gave an exaggerated shudder, but he was grinning. He sobered again. "I offered to let Shmi fly with us, or perhaps work with the MedCorps, while Anakin's taking his basic lessons. Either choice would let her explore a number of worlds and find one she likes."

Obi-Wan swallowed the last bit of pie and smiled gently. "I expect she accepted?"

"Pending a discussion with Anakin, yes. I told her I'd check with her when we return from this mission."

Obi-Wan rested a hand on Garen's shoulder. "I foresee you and Anakin will be well-suited."

BREAK

Obi-Wan supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Padmé offered them transport back to Coruscant aboard the royal starship, since she was determined to brief the Senate personally about the attack and the treaty.

He'd tried to refuse, arguing that Garen shouldn't have to make the return trip alone – only for Garen himself to counter that since he and Obi-Wan had been together for the entire mission and Obi-Wan would report in person, he could simply submit a supplemental mission briefing to the Council and return to his ExploraCorps assignment immediately.

Garen didn't say that his assignment would include the Skywalkers, but Obi-Wan felt that reassurance through the Force. As a result, Obi-Wan bid his old friend farewell in the hangar before joining Qui-Gon and the royal party aboard the royal starship – which starship he still didn't know the name of. If it even had a name.

A shudder rippled through the deck as the ship took off, and Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon to the small common area. Falling into the rhythm of his years as Qui-Gon's padawan learner, Obi-Wan padded to the kitchenette and began preparing a pot of tea.

When the tea was ready, Obi-Wan filled two cups and crossed to the table where Qui-Gon sat, offering him one as he sat across from him.

Obi-Wan raised his cup in a mock toast. "Another successful mission."

With a slight upturn of his lips, Qui-Gon raised his own cup in acknowledgment and they each took a sip.

"Your first as a knight," Qui-Gon observed. "You did well."

"We all did," Obi-Wan said, instinctively ducking the recognition.

"Yes, but I can't help considering how things could have gone differently."

Obi-Wan rested his cup on the table, regarding his master both curiously and cautiously.

What might have been was a dangerous line of thought. Yes, analyzing possibilities could be helpful, but it was also all too easy to get lost in self-recrimination and doubt. Force knew, he'd done so himself more often than was healthy.

When Qui-Gon didn't elaborate, Obi-Wan prompted, "What are you thinking about?"

"After the negotiation with the Trade Federation, I had the opportunity to speak with the queen." Qui-Gon stared into his cup, swirling the liquid inside as though it held the answer to…well, Obi-Wan couldn't even guess what questions his former master might have.

After a long moment, Qui-Gon looked up and met his gaze. "She told me of your negotiation with the junk trader on Tatooine, how you were determined to free both the boy and his mother, and that you managed to do so."

"Actually, the approach was her idea," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"Could she have convinced the trader? Watto, I believe his name was?"

Obi-Wan blew out a breath as he looked down at his own cup, the steam swirling away from him like a sudden storm.

"Likely not," he admitted. "He's a Toydarian, and even more stubborn and greedy than they're rumored to be."

Qui-Gon nodded, his presence in the Force suddenly uncomfortable. "Even if I'd had appropriate currency, I…cannot be certain I would have had the foresight to attempt to free the boy's mother, too, let alone push the negotiation to do so."

Obi-Wan stilled every reaction he had to that statement, from of course you would have, Master, to why wouldn't you? to it would be cruel not to, and every step in between all of those, finally ending with a resigned, I wish I were surprised by that.

None of those reactions were appropriate to the moment, and therefore, none of them made it past his mental shields – even if he would eventually spend several hours in meditation to fully understand them before purging them from his mind.

He settled on a noncommittal, "I see."

Qui-Gon raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Ever the diplomat, even with your old master."

"Former, not old," Obi-Wan corrected automatically. "And, this time, I honestly didn't know what else to say."

Qui-Gon raised one shoulder in a shallow half-shrug. "I'm not sure you need to say anything, Obi-Wan."

Still, Qui-Gon had felt the need to tell him, which meant Obi-Wan needed to respond. Somehow.

He took a sip of tea to buy himself time to think, to consider the best response – where best meant most helpful to Qui-Gon. Not that Qui-Gon had said or even implied that he needed assistance; Force forbid.

But Obi-Wan hadn't been Qui-Gon's apprentice for more than a decade without coming to know him and when he needed assistance, especially when he needed assistance but would rather die than admit it.

Finally, the Force gave him words, and Obi-Wan set his cup on the table before meeting Qui-Gon's gaze once again.

"It seems to me," Obi-Wan began, "that all aspects of the Force have…weaknesses associated with them. Dangers, if you will, that threaten those most aligned with them. I believe the danger inherent in the Living Force is to focus too much on the here and now. Doing so to the detriment of the other aspects can lead us to ignore the consequences of our actions."

Qui-Gon looked as though he wanted to speak, and Obi-Wan cut him off with a smile and a pointed, "Even if we are following the will of the Force in the moment. The Force does not demand blind obedience, and neither does it promise all of our choices are perfect."

Qui-Gon stared at him, expressionless and without blinking, for a long time. Finally, he did blink, and his expression slid into thoughtfulness.

"That," he said finally, "is no lesson I ever taught you."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Once, in meditation, I asked the Force what it wanted me to know. Not what I needed to know, not how it could help me, but what it wanted me to know."

"And that's what it told you?"

Obi-Wan nodded. That hadn't been the only time he'd asked that particular question, but Qui-Gon had no need to know that.

Qui-Gon hummed thoughtfully. "I will have to meditate on the implications of what you've said. And what the Force wants us to know."

Left unspoken was the thought that the Order's teachings were incomplete at best, so Obi-Wan merely nodded and returned his attention to his tea.