Chapter Text
Qui-Gon thought it would be easier to requisition one of the Order's ships in the hangar especially since he is meant to be, all modesty aside, a renowned jedi diplomat but no, apparently he has to resort to sneaking around and filing paperwork out for a rather disgruntled jedi ace.
He tries his level best not to let his mounting irritation out from under the calm façade but surely just flying a ship shouldn't require so many obstacles.
It should not have been this hard to begin with, he thinks bitterly. It should not be so outlandish to want to help his padawan.
He knows this is irrational thinking and that this is how issues with attachment are sewn. He knows his vision is clouded. He knows this is how jedi die in the field.
He still does not turn back.
He still steps on the ship.
The force had provided and he had found a ship that he could fly.
Two minutes into Qui-Gon's rebellious escapades his comm, which had been silent this whole time, decides it is going to ring.
The dial code was not Obi-Wan, although he had hoped for a moment this was all a mistake and his padawan was sitting in the archives as he always was at this hour. It was not Tahl either which was probably for the best.
No, he recognised the dial code very well. He had memorised it as soon as he became a padawan in case of emergencies.
It was for that reason he ignored it.
There was nothing he wanted to hear from his old master.
The boy was the picture of jedi serenity, Xanatos thought. It was admirable really if it hadn’t been so sickening to Xanatos.
It was the sort of meditation pose that turned your legs numb, one that was only adopted when a master was watching.
And any sympathy Xanatos might have had for Obi-Wan Kenobi had died out when he had seen that pose. He had hoped the boy would see reason soon enough, that Xanatos would be able to prove to him with not much convincing that the jedi were rotten. Xanatos, of course, does not want unnecessary effort.
It would be simpler for them all, for this whole endeavour, for Obi-Wan to join him. Disgraced padawans united against the decrepit masters.
He does not need an ally but he is interested in twisting the knife in Qui-Gon's back.
It's what they both deserve.
"Good morning Obi-Wan!"
The boy does not move an inch. He doesn't even open his eyes.
"Is it?"
Xanatos grins.
"It is!"
The young padawan lets out a long suffering sigh.
There's fear in the force, Xanatos can smell it but he decides to allow this front of nonchalance.
There's no point in breaking his spirit.
"What clan were you in?"
Xanatos takes a seat opposite the padawan and waits for his answer.
"Did you have to kidnap me to ask this question?" He shifted slightly, "Hawkbat."
"I would have guessed Clawmouse."
"Clawmouse?" He squawked, eyes opening only to roll in disgust. "That's offensive."
Clawmouse was known for being, well, there was no explanation for the reputation the clan had but it had it anyway and apparently that reputation surpassed generations.
Xanatos could remember it even now, reach out and touch it.
"How about you?"
"Bear."
"That makes sense."
"And what does that mean?"
Obi-Wan shrugged and shut his eyes again.
The Jedi Temple did not seem like a lifetime away sometimes. Xanatos still knew how the temple was built and which routes were the fastest to get around and which training salles were always the busiest and which when the gardens were crawling with initiates.
He had spent more of his life inside the temple than outside of it and wasn't that chilling?
He looked over at Obi-Wan.
Xanatos had read once that it was a myth that sharks could smell blood from miles away. He doesn't think that fear goes away though if you nick your leg on a rock in the middle of the ocean.
You still think the shark is coming for you.
Your fear tells you so.
Obi-Wan's fear tells the boy so.
"Do you miss the Temple?"
Xanatos' knuckles turned white.
"No."
"You sure? You're one who brought up clans and was on that planet with Corps members on and you tried to blow-"
Xanatos snarls, unhinged and nasty and somehow Obi-Wan doubles over from the force of the rage. The air is thick with it. The padawan is curled over, face hidden from Xanatos, but a flicker of satisfaction runs through him.
What were jedi teachings worth against this?
"Do you-"
"Choose your next words wisely." He spat out between gritted teeth.
"Do you really think this will work?"
"You barely understand this, padawan."
"I think I do."
The boy shifts.
"You want our master to come running every time you call because you're lonely."
The boy, small and inconsequential, is laughing at him. Xanatos can see it in his eyes.
He really does not understand that what Xanatos is planning is not just revenge, it'll be a revelation.
"Jealous?" He sharpens his anger into a knife and twists. "He doesn't even keep you around half the time."
The boy falls silent.
In a fight, Xanatos would win as easily as breathing. In a lightsaber duel, Xanatos would win even easier.
He would be lying to say he hadn't considered it: running a lightsaber through the boy and leaving him for Qui-Gon to find. He could do it now in fact.
It was not fair though.
He needed Qui-Gon to feel what he felt. He needed every single member of their rotten lineage to feel it.
"Well you set the bar low for disappointment." Obi-Wan decides to retaliate. "Everything I do is peachy compared to falling to the dark side."
In Xanatos' quiet calculation, the padawan goes for more.
"You can't even do that very well. I am sure the dark side involves more than trading weak verbal blows with a teenager."
He looked too young to be a teenager but then again he has been scraping thirteen when Xanatos first met him.
"It is a shame Obi-Wan, that you didn't stay on Agricorps."
The boy was trying not to flinch, Xanatos could tell from his eyes.
"You really don't have anything to do with this."
It was concerning how easy it was to track Xanatos.
If Qui-Gon was a betting man he would say he is walking into a trap and a very lazily executed one at that. Either Xanatos was getting messy or he was being led here on purpose and each option worried Qui-Gon.
Either Xanatos was getting messy in his vengeance and had abandoned all strategic knowledge Qui-Gon had watched him accumulate over the years or Qui-Gon was playing into his hands. He was not a stupid man not did he have a short memory: Xanatos was smart and now he was smart and cruel - maybe he had always been cruel a voice somewhere reminded him, maybe you hadn't noticed. Any plot for revenge, especially one involving his padawan, was bound to be fashioned like a scalpel.
He was also not unaware that Obi-Wan and his apprenticeship was, well, fraught.
He was not unaware that it would not be the most difficult task for Xanatos to ruin the past two years.
He was not unaware that this was, as well as many things when it came down to his padawans, his fault.
So it didn't matter if this was a trap or if he was reprimanded by the council for going off course once again because this was his responsibility. Not some random knight who did not know either of them, who did not know that Obi-Wan woke up two minutes before his alarm and made his old, foolish master tea before anything else. Not some random knight who did not know that a jedi master who was meant to be the wisest diplomat and the strongest duellist had ruined Xanatos' life.
The planet he had found himself on was small and inhospitable apart from small patches of buildings. The sky was a deep mauve, the colour of a bruise Qui-Gon thought morbidly and the landscape was peppered by pale, skeletal trees.
Xanatos really knew how to pick planets.
It was a curious place and perhaps if Obi-Wan was not severely injured he would ask him how he thinks the trees have survived over the years.
Maybe that would make this experience which was bound to have been uncomfortable at best and scarring at worst, a little brighter.
The force thrummed a warning and Qui-Gon noticed a ship, a very familiar ship indeed,.circling and starting to land.
Jedi did not have possessions as such. The Jedi Order however needed certain resources to be able to do their jobs; basic items such as bacta tanks, food supplies, disaster relief equipment. Often they were not marked as belonging to the Jedi Order since many worlds were not so welcoming to them.
However, Qui-Gon would recognise a jedi ship anywhere.
Not only that, but he knew any jedi, even padawans were taught what they looked like in case of emergencies, would recognise another jedi ship.
So the other jedi, the jedi actually assigned by the council who would definitely report Qui-Gon, was already here and knew another jedi was here.
Well, they did not have to find out yet.
Qui-Gon rather unceremoniously ducked back into his ship, keeping an eye on the slowly descending ship.
The other jedi, probably a shadow, would understand and they would work together. Perhaps this was a lesson from the force in cooperation rather than a hindrance.
Finally, after what seemed like an age, the ship landed. Qui-Gon had decided on what he would do: he would simply explain his expertise in the matter had driven him to act - not his attachment to either padawan of course - and that he wouldn't stand in the other jedi's way of the mission.
But as the figure, painfully familiar, emerged from the ship Qui-Gon knew this was doomed to fail.
It would be an understatement to say Master Qui-Gon Jinn was a controversial figure in the temple and so undoubtedly there were some jedi with, well, less faith in him than others. He had been called many things: from misguided to heretical to just damn stubborn.
He preferred the term unorthodox.
So it was only natural there were people who he did not want on this mission beside him. He didn't have time nor capacity to be explaining and justifying his every move.
That was why the sight of his Master, tall and imposing as ever, filled him with dread.
It seemed the force believed he had evaded Master Dooku for too long.