Obi-Wan struggled with his anger. Master Yoda had told him that often anger wasn't about another person, but about himself. "Close your mouth and open your ears, you must," Yoda had said. "Then hear what your true heart is seeking, you will."
Well, right now his true heart was seeking to scream out his frustration.
Qui-Gon extended his hands, palms up, then flipped them over, palms down. It was the farewell gesture of the Meerians. SonTag and VeerTa repeated the gesture. Nobody seemed to care what Obi-Wan did, so purposefully, he did not acknowledge their parting.
Obi-Wan's lack of courtesy was a severe infraction for a Jedi pupil. But Qui-Gon didn't say a word as they walked through the residence halls and out the main door.
The air chilled Obi-Wan's flushed cheeks as he and Qui-Gon paused on the steps. Obi-Wan waited for the older Jedi to reprimand him. Then he could tell Qui-Gon how he wanted to remain in Bandor. He could line up his reason; he could argue that Qui-Gon needed his support.
"Those seeming not to notice you usually do," Qui-Gon said, looking out into the distance. "They choose no to show it. Or they have greater concerns on their minds. It is no reason for discourtesy."
"But I — "
"I see that your discourtesy sprang from anger," Qui-Gon continued. His voice was soft and low, as it usually was. "I will ignore it."
Angry words sprang to Obi-Wan's mind. If you're choosing to ignore it, why are you mentioning it?
Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan directly for the first time. "You will not, under any circumstances, intervene in any situation regarding my mission, or take any action, without contacting me."
Obi-Wan nodded.
Qui-Gon's gaze swept the mine towers of Bandor. "Things are rarely what they seem," he murmured.
"That is why I wish to — " Obi-Wan started.
"Come," Qui-Gon interrupted sternly. "Let's get your things. You must catch that transport."
He strode off briskly. Obi-Wan followed more slowly. He saw his chance of being a Jedi Knight dissolved in the cold, gray air.
Xanatos was not an easy student. Though he was very young when he left Telos, he remembered that he had come from a powerful family on powerful planet. He used the information to try to impress the other students, most of whom came from far less privileged backgrounds.
Qui-Gon was patient with this fault, he considered it a childish failing that would disappear with time and teaching. When they first arrived at the Temple, most of the students still missed their families and home planets. Many of them spun tales about their backgrounds or retold remembered stories. Xanatos really wasn't that different, Qui-Gon told himself. And he made up for his snobbery with a genuine desire to learn and an excellent aptitude for Jedi skills. When the time came, Qui-Gon chose Xanatos as hid Padawan learner.
After seeing a simmering Obi-Wan off on his transport, Qui-Gon went for a walk. His mind mulled over the morning's meeting. Who had fabricated the request for Jedi intervention in Bandomeer affairs? If it was Xanatos, what was his reason? Had he lured Qui-Gon into a trap?
Qui-Gon pondered the questions, but came up with no answers. If there was a trap ahead, he couldn't see it. He could hardly confess to SonTag that he couldn't help because of a mysterious figure from his past who might still hold a grudge. The only thing he could do was proceed. The mission on Bandomeer was real. SonTag and VeerTa needed help.
SonTag sent word to Qui-Gon that the meeting with Offworld would take place at the Home Planet Mine. At the scheduled time, Qui-Gon headed out of his quarters. He found SonTag herself heading toward him down the hall.
"I'm glad I caught up with you," she told him. "We've changed the location of the meeting. I think it's better for both parties if we meet in a neutral place. Maybe if there's an official tone to the proceedings, everyone will be more polite." SonTag grimaced. "At least that's what I hope."
"I hope the same," Qui-Gon agreed. He shortened his long stride to match SonTag's.
In the receiving room, VeerTa stood waiting. She was wearing the gray-blue unisuit of a miner, along with an impatient look.
"This meeting is a waste of time," she told Qui-Gon brusquely. "Offworld will make us pretty promises and then break them."
"I'm here to ensure that they don't," Qui-Gon answered. He liked the fiery VeerTa. He hoped the meeting would go well for her sake, and for Bandomeer's.
The door opened, and Clat'Ha, the Human manager of the Arconan Harvest mining operation, entered. Qui-Gon greeted her with a bow. She returned it, he vivid green eyes giving him a warm glance. They had been allies on the ship to Bandomeer; he hoped they would remain so here.
They waited for several minutes, but the Offworld representative didn't show up. Sine Jemba the Hutt was killed during the journey to Bandomeer, nobody knew who the new representative would be. Offworld's power structure was clouded in mystery. No one even knew who its leader was.
Finally, an annoyed SonTag gestured at the cushions.
"We might as well start the meeting," she said. "If they're trying to intimidate us, I'm not going to fall for it."
Everyone took their seats. The cushions made height adjustments so that everyone was at eye level. Clat'Ha and VeerTa began to brief SonTag on progress at the mine. Qui-Gon heard their words, but he was distracrated by something more important. There was a disturbance in the Force. He tuned into the disturbance, unsure of what it meant. The dark ripples were a warning, but of what?
The door suddenly flew open. A young man stood in the doorway. His shiny black cape was lined in a blue so deep it was almost black as well. A broken circle scar marked his cheek.
Qui-Gon's gaze locked with the intruder's. The moment hung suspended in the air. Then, to Qui-Gon's surprise, Xanatos broke into a delighted grin.
"Old friend! So you are here. I hardly dared to hope." Xanatos strode forward, handsome and commanding. His black hair flowed to his shoulders, and his dark blue eyes matched the lining on his cape. He gave the Meerian sign of greeting to SonTag, then bowed.
"Governor, I must apologize for my lateness. My transport was held up in an ion storm. Nothing was more important to me than getting here on time. I am Xanatos, the representative of Offworld."
SonTag greeted him, palms up. "I see that you already know Qui-Gon."
"Yes, I have had that good fortune. But I haven't seen him in many years." Xanatos turned to Qui-Gon. He bowed.
There was no mockery in the bow, Qui-Gon noted. Just respect. Yet he did not trust it.
"I got your message on my arrival," he said neutrally.
"Yes, I had heard you were dispatched from Coruscant," Xanatos answered. "Since I had just been appointed Offworld's representative, I knew we would meet. Nothing gave me more satisfaction."
Qui-Gon studied the young man. Sincerity rang in every word. What was going on?
"I see you mistrust me," Xanatos said. His midnight-blue eyes beamed a keen look at Qui-Gon. "Your sense of caution hadn't changed. But surely other Jedi apprentices have left the path of the Jedi without your mistrust?"
"Every apprentice is free to leave at any time. You know that," Qui-Gon said evenly. "If they leave honorably, there is no mistrust."
"And so I left. It was best for me, and for the Jedi," Xanatos said quietly. "I failed to lead that life. Yet it isn't a source of regret. I was not meant to lead the life of a Jedi." Suddenly, he flashed a smile at SonTag, Clat'Ha, and VeerTa. "I value my training as a Jedi, but it didn't prepare me for the shock of reentry. I must confess that I went astray for a few years. That's the last time that Qui-Gon knew me."
Astray? Qui-Gon wondered. Is that how Xanatos thought of that time?
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