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Having made a brief stop on the planet Harloen, the lavish spaceliner Leviathan re-entered hyperspace and set off along the Hydian Way towards its ultimate destination – Coruscant. As usual, the spaceship was absolutely jammed with passengers. Various businessmen, politicians, and other beings who considered themselves members of the highest galactic society were lounging around in the staterooms, enjoying the many pleasures available on board – from the wide array of delicious food and drinks to the vast game room, the live Bith orchestra, and the interactive hologram suite. The omnipresent buzz of mindless chatter held in a myriad of galactic languages could be easily mistaken for the sound of a humungous beehive.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn paid little attention to all the luxuries surrounding him as he slowly made his way through the crowd of jolly beings. He was deep in thought, his mind immersed in the events of the recent past.
So much had happened in just a single standard week. An intricate plot against the Jedi Order had been foiled mere seconds before the Temple could have perished in a massive explosion along with thousands of innocent souls dwelling within its ancient walls. After nearly a decade, the ruthless practices of the corrupted Offworld Mining Corporation had been publicly exposed to the entire Galactic Republic. And the core of all suffering – the Outer Rim planet of Telos IV, brought to the very brink of bankruptcy, with its natural beauties plundered and citizens kept in a collective delirium of desperate need for gambling – had managed, at long last, to see through the dense web of deception, and had vowed to embark on the path of lawful recovery and reconstruction.
Countless conspiracies, betrayals and cold-blooded murders. A Galaxy-wide network of criminals. An endless cycle of exploitation, death and destruction. All devised and led by a single man who had pledged himself to the Dark Side of the Force, who had been seduced by its seemingly unlimited power and blinded by greed and ambition.
Xanatos.
I should have been a better Master to him. Then, perhaps, I could have prevented all this, Qui-Gon mused grimly as he entered the long, quiet corridor that led to the passengers’ cabins.
It was futile to focus on what might have been instead of what was, especially for a Jedi. Qui-Gon knew this all too well but, in his mind, he kept coming back to everything his fallen apprentice had done.
To the Galaxy. To the two of them. To himself.
There was sorrow in the Jedi Master’s heart whenever he remembered Xanatos’s blatant contempt for the Order that once used to be his family. The wild anger and deviousness that had gradually overshadowed all of his good qualities. The deep, fierce hatred with which the young man had attempted, over and over again, to destroy his former mentor and everything he held dear.
‘I am your biggest failure. Live with that,’ Xanatos had taunted Qui-Gon, right before he had plunged into a steaming black pool full of acid. Until the bitter end, he had followed the dark path.
Qui-Gon mourned his death, even though he knew all the choices Xanatos had made throughout his life had always been the man’s own and no one else’s. He grieved for his bright former Padawan who could have done so much good in the universe, but had never wanted to. The memory of his demise still haunted the Jedi Master, though not in the way the self-centred young man had maliciously hoped it would.
Letting out a deep sigh, Qui-Gon stopped walking and closed his eyes for a moment.
The past cannot be changed, but it must be remembered. Through remembering, we let go of the guilt that weights us down. Only when we learn to do so – to truly forgive ourselves – we are able to find peace and live on.
It was an old wisdom every Jedi needed to be reminded of now and then, regardless of their rank or experience. Lately, Qui-Gon had been relying on it a lot more than he used to, losing himself in the familiar words every now and then, drawing strength and guidance from them as if they were of the Force itself.
It is going to be a painful process – forgiving myself, Qui-Gon ruminated, having finally begun to understand the far-reaching consequences of his mistakes and accepting with humility and sincere gratitude the rare chance to make amends. He knew there was a long way for him to go before his mind, heart and soul would be fully healed. It would take time. Time, patience and a great deal of courage.
Nonetheless, Qui-Gon was determined to persevere. For this was no longer a strictly personal matter – a gloomy chapter in the life of one reclusive Jedi Master. There was someone else to consider now, too.
Obi-Wan Kenobi.
An affectionate smile appeared on Qui-Gon’s lips at the thought of the thirteen-year-old boy who had come into his life mere three months ago, but already managed to change it in the most unexpected and wonderful of ways. The brief memory of Obi-Wan’s kind, valiant heart alone was enough to bring Qui-Gon back to the present from the shadowy depths of his past.
Feeling a lot lighter inside all of a sudden, the Jedi Master opened his eyes and took in the softly lit corridor of the glamorous spaceliner. Then, unhurriedly, he resumed his walk, passing by a dozen doors on both sides until he reached the one that bore a neon yellow sign ‘No. 5271’. With a single swipe of a keycard, he opened it and entered.
The cabin Obi-Wan and he were given to share on their journey to Coruscant had to be the most opulent accommodation Qui-Gon had ever stayed in. The smooth durasteel walls were adorned with intricate geometric ornaments. All furniture was custom-made according to the latest trends from the Core Worlds out of polished metal, white marble, moonstone, and black synth-leather. The two beds standing in opposite corners of the room were high and sturdy, yet elegant, dressed completely in mauve shimmersilk that seemed to reflect the soft, pale light emanating from a large designer ceiling lamp in a hundred directions at once.
To be perfectly honest, it was a little too much. The style differed wildly from both Qui-Gon’s and Obi-Wan’s personal tastes – the two Jedi preferring modesty and practicality over chic and splendour. However, the Telosians had insisted on arranging the best available transport for the heroes who had helped save their planet from complete ruin, and Qui-Gon had had no desire to offend them by refusing their gesture of genuine thanks.
Besides, to remember to take a good rest after a finished task was a very important life lesson to teach one’s apprentice – Jedi or not. So, why not do it now, when it was so easy and so comfortable to sink into the fluffy pillows and relax while the spaceship continued to speed through hyperspace?
Although… Obi-Wan seems to have already learned this particular lesson quite well by himself, Qui-Gon observed, grinning fondly as he found his Padawan lying in one of the sumptuous beds.
Somehow, the boy had managed to fall asleep on top of the bedcovers in the fifteen minutes Qui-Gon had been away to speak with the crew on the ship’s bridge. He had dozed off before he could undress properly – with the exception of his knee-high leather boots and utility belt, he was still wearing all layers of the standard Jedi attire. Even the dessert plate with the large slice of harmonberry cake he had so enthusiastically delved into earlier lay half-eaten and abandoned on the bedside table now.
The image of Obi-Wan looking so calm and untroubled in his sleep was a tremendously endearing sight. It was making the Jedi Master’s heart slowly melt, like muja fruit ice cream that had been left in the sun for too long.
Even when he is resting, he seems ready to jump right back into action. Eager to help those in need. To learn everything he can from me.
A surge of remorse washed over Qui-Gon, covering him like a thick black veil. He sat heavily on the edge of his bed, his melancholic gaze fixed on the slumbering boy in front of him.
He only ever wanted to be a good Jedi. To belong somewhere. Why could I not see it?
The answer was almost astonishingly simple. It had been right there – lingering around, hiding in plain sight ever since their fateful rescue mission to Melida/Daan, if not earlier. Qui-Gon could feel its sharp sting in his heart every minute of every day.
Fear.
The very notion of placing faith into the wrong person again, of being betrayed like he had been once before, had seemed far too much for the Jedi Master to bear. And so, he had closed himself off from everyone. To protect himself from getting hurt, he had allowed his apprehension to guide him through his life instead of the Force.
There had been an undeniable connection between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan right from the start – even before the boy had first become his official apprentice on the wild and mysterious planet of Bandomeer the Jedi Master must have recognised it. All the same, he had decided to hold back. He had subconsciously fought against their slowly budding Force bond as if it had been a dangerous adversary, when he should have been embracing it and cherishing it like the precious gift it was.
“I have deeply wronged you, Obi-Wan. Forgive me, if you can,” Qui-Gon whispered contritely, every word a sincere apology of its own.
He did not expect to get any reply from the sleeping boy, the distant echo of his own words being just about what he could handle at the quiet, vulnerable moment. Even this small first step had been very difficult for him to take.
Eventually, Qui-Gon will need to find the courage to talk about all the powerful, complicated feelings he had masterfully learned to hide behind the mask of Jedi serenity. He has to. Until he does, the fragile bond he had so callously and foolishly crushed between Obi-Wan and him will not be repaired.
And yet… It had felt strangely significant to say these few honest words aloud for the first time right then and there – in the privacy of their magnificent cabin, on the spaceliner that was carrying them both back home.
Home, Qui-Gon exhaled longingly, a tender smile dancing on his lips as he briefly glanced towards Obi-Wan once more, before lowering himself onto the mauve silky bedcovers.
What a wonderful place to be returning to.
The remainder of Leviathan’s journey to the Galactic capital was delightfully uneventful and passed quickly. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spent most of it in their cabin, sleeping off the bone-deep weariness and fatigue from their mission. When they awakened – about three hours before the scheduled landing – they did not talk much, but the silence hanging between them felt far from uncomfortable. Rather, it brimmed with understanding and quiet, moderated anticipation.
There will be plenty of time for us to talk about everything, Qui-Gon kept assuring himself, eager to begin rebuilding what had been broken, but careful not to blindly rush into things. In their case, patience was not just a virtue, but a necessity as well.
They arrived on Coruscant on a warm mid-afternoon. The golden sun was still high in the clear blue sky, shining bright on the two Jedi as they transferred from the striking spaceliner to a small, inconspicuous shuttle that was waiting for them on the landing platform.
It only took the humble aircraft a few minutes to reach the Jedi Temple. A profound sense of calm filled Qui-Gon’s consciousness the moment he stepped inside the imposing, yet welcoming building complex he knew so well.
The Force was singing its ancient song and not a hint of fear or worry was marring its delicate beauty any longer. The threat of the imminent destruction of the Temple had passed. The life of the Jedi Order had returned to its centuries old, predictable ways.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
The first line of the Jedi mantra came to the forefront of Qui-Gon’s mind almost automatically. The well-known words washed over him like the cool waters of a mountain stream – cleansing and soothing. He took a long breath, revelling in the immediate presence of the Force for a little while longer.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.
Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan stop and take a couple of deep breaths of his own. His heart filled up with relief. The young boy seemed to be just as affected by their surroundings as him. That was a good sign. It meant that during his five-week-long stay on Melida/Daan, far away from all other Jedi, Obi-Wan had lost none of his connection to the Force.
And where there is the Force, there is hope, Qui-Gon concluded his brief meditation on a positive note – with his favourite piece of Jedi wisdom.
“Come, Obi-Wan. The Council is expecting us,” the Jedi Master gently addressed his young companion and gave him an encouraging smile.
Obi-Wan shook his head in an attempt to shift his focus back on the tangible present. When his mind finally seemed to have registered Qui-Gon’s words, he meekly replied a ‘Yes, Master,’ before falling into step beside the older Jedi.
The High Council received them in the Pinnacle Room of the Temple Spire almost immediately. Qui-Gon could read concern and sombreness in the Masters’ Force signatures as he came to stand in the centre of the open circle of seats. Obi-Wan was only a step behind him.
One thing after another, Qui-Gon recounted what had happened on Telos with as much objectivity as he was capable of. It was by no means an easy task. What had existed between Xanatos and him had always been personal. Their very last encounter had only confirmed it. The Council Masters must have somehow understood because their subsequent questions did not delve nearly as deep into the core of the matter as they would normally have. Qui-Gon was grateful for their consideration.
“Great evil, you managed to avert on Telos,” Master Yoda said when Qui-Gon had finished his report. “Saddened, I am, to hear about a former Jedi’s death. Nevertheless, blame yourself for it, you should not, Qui-Gon. Xanatos’s decision alone, it was, to follow the path of darkness. A dark fate, thus, he met.”
Although Qui-Gon himself was beginning to come to terms with the undeniable fact, it helped to hear the same from the Grandmaster Jedi as well. “What you say is true, Master Yoda. Still… I would like to ask the Council for permission to remain in the Temple for some time. There are certain matters I feel the need to meditate on and find peace about. The death of my fallen former Padawan is one of them.”
Mace Windu, Master of the High Council, gravely nodded, his dark eyes boring into Qui-Gon’s deep blue ones. “Of course. Stay for as long as you need, Qui-Gon.”
Before the tall Jedi could bow his head in thanks, Master Windu turned to the silent boy to Qui-Gon’s left. “As for you, Obi-Wan, the Council had its reservations about your involvement in the mission to Telos. You were aware of them. Yet you chose to go with Master Jinn.”
Obi-Wan sheepishly lowered his gaze in confirmation and waited for Mace Windu or some other Master to continue. Save for the slightest tremble of his hands, he appeared to be perfectly calm and composed.
Like a true Jedi.
A great wave of protectiveness rose in Qui-Gon’s heart. Instinctively, he wanted to shield Obi-Wan from whatever reprimand the Council was about to give him. He might have acted on this strong urge of his, if it was not for Master Windu’s next words.
“As we came to understand it, whether or not it sprang from another of your impulsive decisions, your help was instrumental in putting Xanatos’s shadow reign of terror to a definitive end,” the Haruun Kal Master explained. “Your actions were commendable and worthy of a future Jedi.”
“Thank you, Master,” Obi-Wan responded, his cheeks turning the faintest tint of pink at the unexpected praise.
Qui-Gon felt a great weight fall off his chest. In his report, he had tried to give a true account of Obi-Wan’s selflessness and bravery. He was glad the Council’s view of his deeds – and of the boy himself – was turning to be more favourable again. It made him wonder if it meant Obi-Wan could return to be his official apprentice now…
“That being said, you are still on probation, Obi-Wan,” Plo Koon, a recently appointed Council Master, clarified before Qui-Gon could ask. “Even if you are much closer to becoming a Jedi Padawan again than you were a week ago.”
“You need to be certain your commitment to the Jedi path is strong and your faith in the Force unshakeable. To reach such thorough understanding of oneself will take a lot longer than a single successful mission,” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi concluded matter-of-factly, though not unkindly.
A solemn, deeply respectful expression settled on Obi-Wan’s young face. “I understand, Masters. And I am thankful for your generosity. I promise to stay in the Temple, meditate on my actions and wait until you deem me ready to advance in my training.”
A rare hint of a smile crossed Mace Windu’s stern features. “Very well then. You may both go. Obi-Wan, you can stay in your old quarters for now.”
Old quarters. The place where Obi-Wan used to live as a youngling with his clan and where he has temporarily resided since his return from Melida/Daan.
Qui-Gon frowned. Something inside him was vigorously protesting against the idea of Obi-Wan staying anywhere else than their quarters. The very thought was making him feel uneasy. It felt wrong.
Before he could think everything properly through, words began to pour out of Qui-Gon’s mouth like a flood. “Actually, if I may have another request, Masters…” the tall Jedi rushed to say before the Council could close the matter and move on to another. He took a breath and simply… spoke.
“I believe I have failed Obi-Wan as a mentor. I have come to realise that my inconsiderate actions played a crucial part in his decision to leave our Order, which makes me directly responsible for his current predicament. I would therefore like him to stay in my living quarters, while his probation period lasts. And once it ends, I wish to officially take him back as my Padawan learner… If he will still have me.”
A stunned silence echoed through the domed chamber at the Jedi Master’s surprising confession.
Originally, Qui-Gon had meant to wait before announcing his decision to take up Obi-Wan’s training. He had meant to be patient – to speak with Obi-Wan first, to find the way back to him and revive their Force bond before coming to the Council. Yet now, when the words had been spoken, he could not make himself regret saying them.
Not when each and every one of them was so true. Not when they had all come right from the depths of his aching, repentant soul.
Having overcome the initial shock, Mace Windu blinked in disbelief and gave out a tired, exasperated huff. “Qui-Gon, what–”
“Granted, your request is,” Master Yoda interrupted his esteemed colleague in a ringing voice that allowed for no further discussion – a thing absolutely unheard of for any other Jedi in the Order to do. Despite the authoritative tone he had chosen, an amused, knowing grin was plastered on the Grandmaster’s wrinkled face. He seemed pleased about something, his big green-gold eyes shining with unambiguous approval at Qui-Gon. “Now, go, you two may.”
Although their audience must have left a lasting impression on everyone involved, Qui-Gon did not have a chance to talk with Obi-Wan about what had transpired for the rest of the afternoon. After the heavy door of the meeting chamber closed behind them, they briefly stopped in the Masters’ wing to put their travelling cloaks away, then went their own ways – Qui-Gon to visit Jedi Knight Tahl in her quarters to tell her about the Telos mission, and Obi-Wan to meet with his friends Bant, Garen, and Reeft for an early dinner in the Temple Refectory.
During these few hours of separation, Qui-Gon’s mind constantly wandered back to what had occurred – to his own admission, spoken without plan or preparation, but with all the more sincerity, and especially, to the look of unfeigned astonishment that had emerged on Obi-Wan’s expressive face upon hearing it.
‘We will take each other back,’ I said to him back on Telos, Qui-Gon ruminated. Does he not believe that I mean it? Am I such a mystery for him, still? An impassive, complicated puzzle he does not know how to solve?
The possibility unnerved and troubled the Jedi Master to no end, as much as he realised he could not blame Obi-Wan for being wary of whom he was letting into his heart. After all, had Qui-Gon himself not done the same after Xanatos had betrayed him almost a decade ago?
I did. And it nearly cost me the most valuable thing I had – Obi-Wan’s trust. I must not make the same mistake again. Not this time.
With this firm resolution engraved in his heart, Qui-Gon returned to the living quarters after a private dinner with Tahl. Seeing that Obi-Wan was still out, he decided to begin with their nightly routine – a shower followed by a short meditation and a cup or two of sapir tea – alone, hoping his apprentice would join him sometime later.
Dressed in his night clothes and with long brown hair loosely framing his bearded face, the Jedi Master was about to pour hot water over the tea leaves to let them infuse, when the door of the quarters slid open with a distinctive hiss and Obi-Wan appeared. He was smiling, the time spent with his best friends seeming to have lifted his spirits considerably.
“Good evening, Master,” the boy said upon entering the room, then frowned and bit his lower lip when he noticed the teapot in Qui-Gon’s hands. “I am sorry for being late.”
Qui-Gon sent a welcoming smile his way and continued preparing their evening brew. “You are perfectly on time, Padawan,” he remarked casually. “The kettle has just boiled.”
Obi-Wan’s face split into a timid grin. “I will be right back,” he announced before taking a few bouncy steps across the room and disappearing in the refresher.
A pleasant warmth that had nothing to do with the tea he was making slowly spread from Qui-Gon’s chest to the rest of his body.
The evenings he used to spend with Obi-Wan had been what he loved the most about their budding relationship – the time before bed seemed so peaceful and quiet to him like no other part of the day. It was in these fragile moments after nightfall that they could both become honest and vulnerable in a safe and intimate way; a moment that was only theirs. It meant so much to Qui-Gon to know they would be able to resume private little rituals like this one again. He had missed it terribly when Obi-Wan had been away. More than he had ever thought he could.
Just as Obi-Wan had promised, he was back from the refresher – dressed in simple cream-coloured sleeping robes – before Qui-Gon had even managed to bring the entire tea set from the kitchen to the living area. However, he did not come to sit on the sofa as he normally would.
Instead, the boy waited for Qui-Gon to sit down first, then gingerly approached him, asking in a hesitant voice, “Qui-Gon... Would you help me with my braid?”
It was an innocent question, yet it brought the Jedi Master close to tears. Qui-Gon knew well how much Obi-Wan valued various Jedi traditions and rituals – to which the regular reweaving of a Padawan braid belonged without a shadow of a doubt. It was an ancient way for a Master and their apprentice to bond in everyday life, the simplicity of the task able to bring the two of them together again and again, better than even a deep Force meditation could at times.
To be asked to help someone with their Padawan braid was one of the greatest honours a Jedi Master could receive – the ultimate expression of respect and trust.
“I would be delighted, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied huskily, moved by the profound display of affection he was not at all sure he deserved to the bottom of his imperfect soul.
A small, relieved smile blossomed on Obi-Wan’s lips and his light blue eyes began to glint like two beautiful morning stars. He reached out a hand and pressed three coloured bands into Qui-Gon’s large palm – two yellow ones and one red. Then, he sat down onto the floor with his back to the Jedi Master and waited, loosely embracing his knees with his arms.
His hair was a little wet to the touch still after the shower he had taken. Qui-Gon gently combed through the short reddish spikes of the slightly overgrown Padawan haircut a few times before he reverently took the long string of hair hanging from behind Obi-Wan’s right ear and tied it up on top with a yellow band. Having split in into three thinner strands, he began with the weaving.
As the hair continued to pass between his nimble fingers, the thin auburn strands intertwining and merging to make a tight braid, Qui-Gon sensed a new hope cautiously rising within him. He could truly feel Obi-Wan’s presence now – his brilliant, curious mind and kind, compassionate heart right beside his own, closer than ever before. It almost seemed as if their very lives were being weaved together along with the braid – by the will of the Force who had come to sanctify the re-creation of their Master–Padawan bond.
Qui-Gon took a shaky breath, overwhelmed by a desperate need to say something, to finally offer an explanation, an apology, or both to Obi-Wan. But alas, words kept failing the Jedi Master, as they so often did, and carried on swirling in his mind like a wild whirlwind of images from the past, present, and future.
And so, Qui-Gon decided to let his heart speak for him instead. He stopped braiding for a moment and with his long arms, he locked his apprentice in a loving embrace. He gently laid one cheek on top of the boy’s head and held him close, fervently hoping Obi-Wan would understand what Qui-Gon was not able to say to him with words just yet.
Surprised by the unexpected motion, Obi-Wan stiffened for a microsecond, then fully relaxed into the hug, covering Qui-Gon’s hands with his own. As he did, bright sparks of happiness, gratitude and love began to ignite all over their renewed Force bond like small fireworks.
“I am glad you came back, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered a long moment of comfortable silence later and tightened his hold around his Padawan’s shoulders protectively.
“I am, too, Master,” Obi-Wan answered in the same heartfelt half-whisper. “Now, we can begin again. Together.”
Qui-Gon smiled, feeling the dense fog in his mind start to clear at last. It was a wonderful, exhilarating sensation. A small, but profound revelation.
And he knew then. That no matter how great the pain and fear had been in the past, these feelings will lose their hold over him – over both of them – eventually. It was not a mere possibility anymore, but a great, glorious inevitability.
Because Qui-Gon had his Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan had Qui-Gon. And for as long as they had each other, they could face anything in the whole wide Galaxy.
Together.
