Qui-Gon eyed the two boys critically, aware of the waves of fear seeping from both of them. “This is not a trick question.”

Obi-Wan’s mouth opened slightly, and then he looked at Kerge. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan finally spoke. “It’s not Kerge’s fault. It was my idea.”

“I didn’t ask whose idea it was. What are you doing here?” Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest, his mouth set in a firm line. He reined in his anger, swallowing it back. It would only hinder him here.

Obi-Wan’s gaze narrowed as he wrapped his ankles around the legs of the chair in a protective gesture. “You wouldn’t listen.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Obi-Wan thrust his chin out. “I told you not to go. But you wouldn’t listen to me. So I had to come.”

Qui-Gon leaned forward, looking his Padawan in the eyes. He kept his gaze even, staring into the boy’s face for several moments. “Do you think this is a game? Do you think you can just disobey me whenever you want?”

His blue eyes clouded over, and the boy turned away, looking at the floor. His tiny chest heaved a sigh, and his shoulders sagged. “No.”

Qui-Gon scoffed. “Excuse me?”

The boy shrunk down further, his voice barely a whisper. “No, Master.”

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath, and then words began to fall from his mouth, almost of their own volition. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in? You had Bel-San worried sick! Did you even think of that for a moment? Or how I would feel? You could have gotten hurt, or lost, or worse! This is the most irresponsible thing you could have possibly done. You willingly disobeyed me for your own selfish reasons.”

A choked sound startled him, and he realized his Padawan was crying. Looking down at his dirt-streaked face, he suddenly had to resist the urge to comfort him. Obi-Wan had thrown a frustrating new variable into the already tenuous situation with Lieryl, and he had done it in front of the Council members. Qui-Gon had no idea how he would explain this to Mace and the others.

Kerge finally turned his eyes up from the floor, and he met Qui-Gon’s gaze. “You’re being too hard on him,” he muttered, kicking at the metal plates with his toe.

Growling deep in his throat, Payter stepped forward, a feral sneer crossing his lips. “Just wait. You don’t know what being too hard feels like yet, Padawan.”

Flipping back a loose lock of ebony hair, Kerge gestured with his hands as he found his voice. “This is not meant in disrespect, but if either of you had any idea the things that Obi-Wan has seen, then you wouldn’t disregard what he has to say. He didn’t come along to make a scene”--Kerge pointed at Qui-Gon-- “he came to protect you.”

Qui-Gon made a move to speak, but Payter held up a hand. “Obi-Wan, if what Kerge is saying is true, we’d like to hear you explain.”

Sniffing quickly, Obi-Wan wiped roughly at his eyes, looking up with reddened eyes. “You think I’m too little. You think I don’t know.”

“Padawan,” Qui-Gon softened his tone, sighing. “What did you see that made you do this?”

He could see the signs of struggle cross the boy’s expression, furrowing his eyebrows and pinching his forehead. After several moments had passed, he finally reached out through the Force, seeking the bond that united them.

“No!” Obi-Wan cried out, clapping hands over his ears, holding his head. “Not like that!”

Qui-Gon exchanged a quick glance with Payter, feeling his anger slowly fade into a strange sort of concern. He felt as if he stood upon icy ground, not sure where to step next.

Blowing all the air out of his mouth, Kerge finally touched Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Want me to tell them?”

Obi-Wan opened one eye, and then nodded.

“He’s seen visions...of this mission. He saw images of trouble, of pain...he can’t even explain everything that he saw. But he saw you, Master Jinn.” Kerge stopped to take a breath. “He saw your death.”

A wave of despair rolled over Qui-Gon’s consciousness, and he realized it spilled from Obi-Wan’s mind. “But...he’s had nightmares too. Obi-Wan, you can’t trust every dream or vision you see.” He struggled to keep his voice level, afraid he might frighten the boy further.

“But he’s had them more than once,” Kerge said quietly. “Master, Master Jinn, I know that I disobeyed you both. . .I know you’re angry, but you have to understand, I helped him come because I believe he should be here. I think the Force is telling him something.”

Payter stroked the shaggy hair on his chin, turning to Qui-Gon. “I think perhaps we each need a few moments alone. Kerge and I are going back to our quarters to further discuss this matter. Take what time you need.”

Qui-Gon nodded, feeling suddenly numb. He watched Payter and Kerge move out of the chamber and the door slide shut behind them, and then he was alone with the boy.

“Master?” Obi-Wan’s voice sounded hollow in the empty space between them.

He looked up, unable to speak.

“It’s not too late. We can turn around and go home. Then you’ll be safe.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, sitting in the seat Kerge had left vacant. “That’s not how being a Jedi works, Obi-Wan. We don’t just do things that are safe, or easy, or comfortable. We sometimes have to do things that are very hard, things that are dangerous.”

“But why?” Obi-Wan sat up, his expression tight. “They are going to kill you, like they did Master Yoda!”

Qui-Gon lifted a hand, searching for words to explain. “Padawan, listen to me. What happened to Master Yoda won’t happen to me, I promise. I think that your visions are showing you your fears, not the future. Can you see what I’m saying?”

Obi-Wan shivered, rubbing his hands down his arms. “No. You still aren’t listening.”

“We--Mace, Payter, Plo Koon, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and I--are here to seek peaceful terms with the Lieryl tribes. There are a lot more lives at stake here than just mine.”

“Master, please--”

“The question is, now what am I going to do with you? What am I going to tell the Council?” Qui-Gon scrubbed a hand down his face, rubbing his tired eyes.

Tears dripped down Obi-Wan’s cheeks, staining them red. “Tell them what I saw.”

Qui-Gon sighed, reaching out to touch Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He felt a rush of hurt and desperation bloom beneath his fingers, and he closed his eyes for a moment, reeling mentally with the impact. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Obi-Wan. I do. But I can’t just run away from our enemy; Master Yoda needs me to do this.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, trembling. “But I need you too.”

***

“He’s not coming with us.” Qui-Gon looked at the row of narrowed gazes fixed upon him. “That is non-negotiable.”

“Well, we can’t leave him on the ship unprotected. None of us can stay here with him, unless you do.” Mace began to distribute some datasheets that had recently arrived from the Lieryl feeds.

Qui-Gon sighed, looking back at Payter. “Kerge. Kerge could--”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I would let that boy watch your boy. Haven’t we already seen them in action?”

They were running out of options. The only viable solution was to bring Obi-Wan with them, but Qui-Gon shuddered at the thought. Obi-Wan wasn’t ready to handle himself in a diplomatic setting as tense as this one. “Surely there must be some other way.”

Plo Koon raised his eyebrows, eyeing Qui-Gon critically. “It seems you have a choice to make. You can either stay here with the child, or bring him along. This is your mess, Master Jinn; don’t expect us to clean it up for you.”

Qui-Gon felt his hackles rise and opened his mouth to speak, but Ki-Adi-Mundi held up a hand. “The Lieryl are a tribal group. They recognize the importance of youth as the members of the next tribe. It may be a benefit to have Obi-Wan along. They may react more positively with his presence.”

“And what if they don’t and react with some sort of blaster fire? Then what?” Qui-Gon spoke quietly, but he knew his tone betrayed his fears.

Mace steepled his hands, looking directly at Qui-Gon. “If you can’t pull yourself together, you’re not going. I won’t jeopardize this mission because you’re letting your emotions rule your decisions.”

Plo Koon checked his chronometer, nodding at the group. “We need to leave soon.” He looked back at Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon tensed under his gaze. “You’d better make up your mind, Master Jinn.”

The others stood, gathering up their belongings and straightening their robes. Qui-Gon looked at Payter, shaking his head. “What am I going to do? This is madness.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Qui-Gon; I know better than that. And don’t think for a second Kerge will go unpunished for his part in this. But I will say this: Obi-Wan would rather break both his legs than disappoint you even slightly. For him to do what he did. . .he must have some sort of conviction about what he saw.”

“But this negotiation...it’s no place for a child!”

Payter lifted a finger, poking him in the chest. “But you forget. These aren’t children, these are Jedi.”

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes, growing frustrated. “That’s not the point.”

Throwing up his hands, his friend let the beginnings of a growl die in his throat. “Then what is? If all you’re interested in is protecting Obi-Wan, then you’re in for a bit of trouble, because that’s not going to happen. Even simple missions always have an element of danger.” Payter finally laid a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Listen. I’m not too thrilled with the idea of Obi-Wan coming with us, but I would rather have both of you there than neither of you.”

Qui-Gon sighed, realization finally crystallizing in his mind. “Payter? Could you do me a favor?”

“What’s that?”

He swallowed, settling on simple phrasing. “If his vision is right, make sure he gets home safely." He paused, speaking quietly. "And tell Yoda to finish what I started."

Payter lifted an eyebrow, and Qui-Gon gave a slight nod. "I expect you'll explain that last part more fully later." He then grunted, giving Qui-Gon a narrow look. “But there will be no need for that kind of talk around here, thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll do it.”

“Fine. Now, enough of that.”

***

Obi-Wan stood beside his Master, clutching his cloak more tightly around him. He had to resist the urge to reach for his Master’s hand; he knew his Master was furious at him. He felt their bond distantly, as if his Master was much farther away. Looking across the circular chamber, he saw five figures enter the room from the opposite side, each one slim and pale. They looked almost like the fairy creatures from the stories Master Heri had read to him, and for a moment Obi-Wan wondered if he had made a terrible mistake. The Lieryl wore simple hide clothing, and Obi-Wan could smell the distinct odor of the leather. He shuddered; he remembered the scent from his dreams.

Master Mace stepped forward, his hands held palms up as he approached. “My name is Mace Windu, and these are my fellow Jedi: Ki-Adi-Mundi, Plo Koon, and Qui-Gon Jinn. We come to seek peaceful terms with you today.”

Obi-Wan felt his Master tense beside him. The Lieryl in the center stepped forward also, and she took a breath before she spoke. “The Jedi do not know the ways of peace. They use their power to gain advantage, and we will not stand for it.”

Reaching out through the Force, Obi-Wan felt only the slightest brush of emotion stemming from the Lieryl leader. She was afraid.

His Master spoke, turning towards the pale woman. “You speak of power to gain advantage, and that you cannot stand for such breaches of peace. Yet it is you who have attacked us.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward. “The Jedi protect the Republic. That alone is a breach of peace. Your Republic will not stop until it owns all of the Outer Rim, and the rest of the galaxy besides.”

“The Republic has no wish to own anyone, and they certainly do not own us.” Mace’s voice sounded clearly across the chamber. “If you have a grievance with the Republic, the Senate will surely--”

“The Senate!” The woman laughed shrilly. “We only wish to be rid of you altogether. We don’t want interference from either of you in our lives; we only wish to be left alone.” A dark look crossed the Lieryl woman’s face. “You have seen what we are capable of. We have no quarrel with you if you leave us now, and do not return to our planet.”

Obi-Wan watched Master Koon exchange a glance with Master Mundi. “We came here to discuss terms. You attacked us; retribution must be made.”

“And what of the children we sent to your Temple years ago? Were either of them permitted to become Jedi? No! And what of the doings on Telaxio? You have driven them into the ground, forced their people into hiding.”

“Telaxio has nothing to do with this--” Master Mace began, but another voice cut his off.

“You poisoned one of our greatest Jedi leaders, and you expect us to simply leave you alone?” Master Koon’s voice rattled inside his mask.

The woman stepped back, dropping her hands. “So be it. There can be no peace between us.”

His Master reached out, gesturing to her. “Please. We cannot end our talk this way.”

“All talks with the Jedi end this way.” The Lieryl woman turned away, motioning to her silent coterie.

“If you leave now, we have reached no terms. The Republic will take matters into their own hands if you disavow the Jedi,” Master Mace said, and Obi-Wan knew the situation was unraveling.

“Then send your Republic. But you had better watch yourselves, Jedi, lest another one of you fall.” Obi-Wan felt the malice in her words as surely as a slap across the face.

Suddenly, the familiar thrum of a lightsaber shot up to Obi-Wan’s left. Master Koon had ignited his orange lightsaber, and for a moment it was the only sound Obi-Wan could hear.

Even though their bond was strained, Obi-Wan could sense his Master’s surprise and anger at Master Koon’s movement. “What are you doing?” his Master whispered, eyes wide.

“This is what passes for peace among Jedi. If you wish to fight, we’ll fight.” The woman reached into her robe and withdrew a blaster.

“Obi-Wan, get behind me, now!”

The room erupted in the shrill sounds of blaster fire and lightsabers engaging. Hidden behind his Master, Obi-Wan could barely see the exchanges of bright light flashing across the room as the Jedi deflected the blasts back at their attackers. He felt a dark shadow of fear pass over his mind as the scene grew more and more familiar. Making himself as small as possible, he reached out to the Force, trying not to give into his fears. Please, he begged, let me be wrong.

It took several moments before he heard the sound. Underneath the chaotic noises of battle, he barely noticed the buzz until it had already risen to a penetrating shriek. “Master!” he shouted, his voice ripped out of his throat.

The buzzing grew to a roar, and he held his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound. Opening his eyes slightly, he could see the room had filled with a strange sort of haze, almost gray in color.

The blaster fire stopped, but Obi-Wan felt a sharp prick against his neck. Clapping a hand there, he felt something crush beneath his fingers. He pulled back his hand, and saw a bloodied streak where the remains of a large winged insect lay in his palm. Another prick struck his arm, and he turned around, trying to avoid the painful stings.

“Master! We have to get out!” He tried to scream, but he felt the wings of the insects brush against his face and he clamped his mouth shut. It was now difficult to see; he couldn’t even make out the forms of Master Koon or Master Mace in the chamber.

Desperate, he reached out to his Master. :Master! We have to get out!:

Only the painful roaring of the insect’s wings in his ears returned to him, and Obi-Wan tried again. :Master!:

He took a step forward, and tripped over something. He expected to hit the floor, but instead he slammed into his Master’s chest. Obi-Wan gulped back a breath, looking down at his fallen Master.

***

“They’re in big trouble,” Payter muttered, pressing himself against the wall of the corridor that led to the circular chamber.

“What’s that sound, Master?”

Payter held a finger to his lips, silencing his Padawan. He had heard the buzzing shriek before, and he knew it would could only mean dire consequences for his friends. “We have to hurry. They must have trapped them inside. We need to find the breakers to let us in there.”

Although they could use their lightsabers to cut their way inside, it would take far longer than Payter thought they had time for. Feeder flies went crazy for blood, and their stings eventually could paralyze a man. Biting back a roar of anger, he suddenly saw movement further down the corridor. He fingered his lightsaber, aching to ignite it. Reaching out with the Force, he attempted to sense the approaching figure. Motioning to his Padawan, he took a careful, silent step forward, every muscle coiled to spring.

A familiar Force signature met his mind’s search, and Payter saw Mace’s formidable silhouette racing towards them. “Payter! Get down! Now!”

A volley of black projectiles sped down the corridor, past Mace, who rolled to the floor to avoid them. Payter leapt into a crouch, looking up long enough to find Kerge. “Padawan!”

Kerge stood his ground, still holding his lightsaber. The blade arced in front of him, he prepared to deflect the oncoming attack.

“No! Kerge!” Payter jumped up, grabbing the boy and slamming him against the wall, out of the way.

He felt a thick slice of pain burrow into his shoulder, digging deep into flesh.

“Master!”

Ignoring his Padawan’s cry, Payter helped Mace to his feet. He could already see the fiery welts on his skin where the flies had bitten him. Pushing Mace and Kerge into a run, he urged them down the corridor, away from the Lieryl. “Where are the others?” he shouted.

“I don’t know! I couldn’t see...I think they’re still trapped in there!” Mace’s breath came in ragged gasps as he tried to run. He wouldn’t be able to go much further before the paralysis took its toll. “You need to pull that out. It’s probably poisoned.”

Payter gritted his teeth as he ripped the black arrow-dart from his shoulder, watching a thin line of blood stream from his matted fur. “We already took antivenom; it was cooked in the food, remember?”

He felt a hand on his arm, and he looked back to see Kerge’s pale face; he was trembling. “The food?”

A black arrow-dart protruded from Kerge’s upper arm, and Payter pulled it out as Kerge gave a slight cry. Wincing, Kerge clutched at his arm, breathing hard. “But Master...I gave my dinner to Obi-Wan.”

Payter felt his heart lurch inside his chest. They were running out of time.

TBC