Snippet 54

  Qui-Gon scanned the lines from the latest reports from Telaxio, sighing.  "Are you sure these are correct?"  

"I know.  I thought the procedures we'd outlined last time would have made an impact, but it doesn't seem like there's been much change."  Adi's normally calm expression changed to one of frustration.  "I'm terribly sorry to bother you with this again.  The Council wants a new plan of action by the end of this week, and you're one of the few negotiators I actually believe benefits the Jedi Order.  That's why I asked for your help."

Qui-Gon shook his head, sipping at his tea.  "I'll do what I can to advise you, but honestly, I must admit I'm a little surprised."  He gave her a slight smile.  "The Council might not be too pleased if they discovered you were conspiring with me."

Waving her hand aside, Adi chuckled.  "I'm not on the Council yet."

"An unfortunate oversight on their part."

"Too true," Adi said, her lips curving in a smile.  "But then, Mace would never forgive me for getting there first."

Qui-Gon laughed.  "He always has been a little competitive."  Looking down at the datasheets, he pointed at several blurry holoprints.  "What exactly is this supposed to--"

"I can't make this work!"  An angry shout sounded from Obi-Wan's room.  "Piece of junk!"

Qui-Gon lifted a finger, rising to his feet.  "I'm sorry Adi...if you'll excuse me for a moment."

"By all means."

Walking purposefully down the corridor, Qui-Gon stepped in through the open doorway to his Padawan's chamber.  The boy sat on the floor, Jes draped over his right shoulder, as he banged at the model with a small durasteel tool.  "Is there something you need, Obi-Wan?"

Large blue eyes flicked nervously to his face, and then Obi-Wan dropped his gaze to the half constructed ship model on the floor.  "No."

Qui-Gon crossed his arms over his chest, leaning on the doorframe.  "What seems to be the problem?"

Scowling at the model, Obi-Wan reached up and scratched Jes under her chin.  "I don't know.  I can't make this work."

"Maybe you need to give yourself a break and do something else.  Like your homework, perhaps," Qui-Gon said, only the slightest bit of firmness in his tone.

Obi-Wan sighed, his slim shoulders sagging.  "I already did my homework.  I want to go over to Slade's."

"Obi-Wan, we talked about this.  Slade and his master need some time to adjust, and he needs to spend time with just Knight Rian.  You'll see him soon, but not today."  Qui-Gon kept his explanation as simple as possible; there was more to the situation than the boy knew, but Qui-Gon didn't want to confuse Obi-Wan with the details.

"But I miss him.  I'm lonely," Obi-Wan said pitifully, hugging his knees. 

"Why don't you call Finn and Nifan?  You could go visit them for awhile."

Obi-Wan made a face, frowning.  "I don't want to see them.  I want to see Slade."

Qui-Gon took a breath, trying to be considerate of Obi-Wan's six-year-old feelings.  "Soon.  But not today."

"I want to see Slade!" Obi-Wan yelled, turning away from Qui-Gon.

"You," Qui-Gon said quietly, "may not use that tone of voice with me.  We do not yell.  Understood?"

Obi-Wan clutched Jes, not looking up from the floor.  "Yes, Master."

"Obi-Wan, look at me."  The boy's gaze slowly rose, meeting Qui-Gon's.  "I understand that you are frustrated, but we have talked about this already.  When I say no, I mean no.  It's not because I don't want you to see Slade, it's because Slade needs to be with his Master right now.  You need to accept that, and you need to let Master Adi and I finish up with her report."

Obi-Wan nodded, still holding onto the kitten.

"I think you owe me an apology."

The boy hesitated, dipping his chin.  "I'm sorry, Master."

"I know."  Qui-Gon sighed.  "You have a choice.  You can either play quietly in your room by yourself until Adi leaves, or you can take a nap.  If you're yelling, it usually means you're tired, and maybe some sleep would help your attitude a little."

"No!  I mean, no, Master, I can play quietly in here.  I don't need a nap, I really don't, Master."  Obi-Wan bit his lip, looking up at Qui-Gon.  "I'll be quiet.  I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"I will be so quiet you won't even know I'm here," Obi-Wan whispered, holding his finger to his lips.

Qui-Gon nodded slowly.  "All right.  Adi and I should be finished soon, and then we can talk."

"Okay, Master."

Qui-Gon gave his Padawan one quick look before walking back down the hallway.  He knew that Obi-Wan wasn't trying to be willful, and although he didn't want to let him get away with disobedience, he didn't feel as if he deserved to be punished for being lonely. 

"I'm sorry about that, Adi.  Obi-Wan's been a little...off today."  Qui-Gon settled into his seat across from her at the table.  "He's in a bad mood.  His best friend is slightly inaccessible at the moment, and he's feeling somewhat cast aside, I think."

"You want to call it a day?" Adi asked, her hands resting on the datasheets.  "I can finish up by myself at this point.  If he needs you--"

"He doesn't need me right now.  He needs to be content playing by himself for an hour, that's all.  He can't always have his own way.  He needs to learn that."  Qui-Gon leaned his elbow on the tabletop, resting his chin in his hand.  "Slade's master and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now, and his master has decided that Slade doesn't need to see Obi-Wan for awhile.  I can't fight him on it; Slade is Rian's padawan and I must honor his decision, no matter how asinine I think it is."

"Why would Rian not want Slade to be with his best friend?  That's a little odd."  Adi scratched her forehead.  "What's his reasoning?"

"It's a long story," Qui-Gon said, waving a hand in a sweeping gesture.  "Suffice to say, Slade and Obi-Wan tend to get into trouble, and apparently Rian doesn't want to deal with it right now."

Adi smiled slightly.  "Hmm.  Like Master, like Padawan."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Please, Qui-Gon.  Even I knew about your little escapades.  I was still in the Creche, but we knew all about you and your friends."

Qui-Gon rubbed a hand down his face, trying not to smile.  "I was never that bad.  Mace was the bad one."

"Ha!  That's funny.  My favorite was when you stole that ship. You and Payter and Bel-San.  I thought they were going to throw you out of the Order."  Adi narrowed her eyes at him.  "I'm sure Rian heard all the same stories I did about you.  It's no wonder he's afraid of your influence on Slade."

Qui-Gon scoffed.  "Now that's unfair.  Alla turned out just fine, didn't she?"

"Yes, but she never had your flair for trouble.  Obi-Wan seems to have acquired that already."

"Well.  At least he thinks for himself.  I can't fault him for that," Qui-Gon said, smiling.

"I'm sure things with Rian will sort themselves out.  This kind of thing never goes on for long.  In a few days, Slade will be driving him crazy, asking to see Obi-Wan, and it'll all blow over.  I've seen it a hundred times."  Adi let out a slow breath.  "So it's back to Telaxio?"

"I hope you're right about Slade's master," Qui-Gon said.  "But it seems like negotiating with Telaxio is going to be easier than reconciling with Rian."

***

Slade edged along the wall of the dim corridor, his body pressed against its cool surface.  He took a quick sniff; the scent that filled his nostrils confirmed his direction.  His tail flicked imperceptibly with anticipation, its silver scales dulled in the shadow.  It wasn't far now.

Holding the blaster tightly in his left hand, he checked to ensure the charge was set.  As he approached the intersection of hallways, he slowed his steps and his breathing.  The smell was thick now, verifying the location of his foe.  Straining his ears, he heard the muffled scrape of boot sole striking carpet. 

Slade's large eyes took in far more than most Jedi's in the dark chamber, and he saw a movement up ahead.  Taking in a quick breath to slow his heart, he watched the form of another creature pass through the slitted streaks of lights that came from the chambers' upper slat windows.  It was time. 

Raising the blaster to shoulder level, he gauged the distance.  It would make it, he was sure.  Aiming for his foe's chest, he fired two rapid shots down the distance of the corridor. 

A surprised gasp sounded about fifteen meters ahead of him, and Slade grinned, walking slowly up the hallway.

"You shot me!" His master clutched at the electronic vest he wore, pointing to the various light displays on the vest that indicated a killing blow.  "I don't believe it.  You won!"

Slade smiled at his master, sliding the blaster into the holster on his belt.  "Yeah, well, I had an advantage."

"What's that?"

"There was a lot of garlic in that soup you had for lunch."  Slade crossed his arms over his chest, feeling quite pleased with himself.  "You weren't very hard to track."

His master shook his head in disbelief.  "I still can't believe you beat me.  I don't think I lost in here once in all my years in the Creche.  Are you sure you've never played Blaster Fire before?"

Slade shrugged.  "Nope.  This is my first time."

"Well.  We'll have to have a rematch."  The tall Jedi cocked his head as a computerized voice read off their scores.  "Rian, 42,000 points.  Slade, 79,000 points.  Winner, Slade.  Please exit the arena and return your vests and blasters at the front desk."      

"I told you when I first met you, Slade, you're a natural.  You're going to be one of the best fighters the Order has ever seen." 

Slade looked down, unsure how to respond.  "Um, thanks, Master."

"So what do you think of the game?" his master asked as he took off the vest, handing it to Slade. 

"It's cool, I mean, I had fun."  He followed his master down the twisting corridors towards the exit sign.  "But I think it would be more fun if we had more people, you know?  Then you could have teams and you could--"

"I thought we were going to do some things together, get to know each other better.  We talked about that, remember?"  His master's voice held no tone of anger, but Slade knew he'd said something wrong.

"Yes, Master."

They walked out of the arena into the gaming complex, and Slade squinted at the bright lights that rinsed a large crowd of waiting gamers in blue, red, and orange color.  He struggled to keep up with his master's long-legged stride, trailing behind him through the crowded complex. 

After they returned the vests and blasters to the renting desk, his master led them over to a small table near an expanse of windows that showcased the magnificent Coruscant cityscape.  He ordered himself a caffe, and then looked down at Slade.  "Look, Slade.  I know that you're friends with Obi-Wan, but you have to understand, you're not in the Creche anymore.  Once you're taken as a Padawan, you spend your time with your master.  There's a lot of things I need to teach you, a lot of places we need to go, and you don't need Obi-Wan holding you back."

Slade recoiled slightly, clasping his hands together in his lap.  "But...he's my friend.  He doesn't hold me back.  He's really smart, Master, smarter than most of--"

"I'm not trying to be hard on you.  I just want you to understand the reality of the situation."  His master gulped down a drink of hot caffe, then continued.  "Whenever you spend time with Obi-Wan, you always seem to get in trouble.  It's normal for padawans to occasionally make a bad choice, but I think Obi-Wan is a bad influence on you."

"But Master..." Slade stammered.  "It's not...I mean, he's younger than me but he's not a bad influence...you just don't know him yet."

His master sighed, resting his elbows on the table.  "Okay.  It's more than just Obi-Wan, all right?  I don't think it's wise to let you spend time with Master Jinn either."

"Master Qui-Gon?"  Slade swallowed back his surprise.  "Why?  There's nothing wrong with him."

Leaning across the table, his master spoke in low tones.  "You need to trust me on this, Slade.  He's led others to the Dark side."

Slade let out a slow breath.  Obi-Wan had explained to him about Master Qui-Gon's second padawan, and how that padawan rejected the Jedi Order.  But it hadn't been Master Qui-Gon's fault.  Next to his own master, Slade trusted Master Qui-Gon more than any other Jedi.  He met his Master's gaze carefully.  "Does that mean I can't see Obi-Wan anymore?"

His master sighed, taking another long gulp of caffe.  "I didn't say that.  I just don't think you should see him all the time.  Besides, it won't be long before we're off planet for months at a time.  You might as well get used to not seeing him anyway."

Slade opened his mouth, and then shut it.  He nodded slowly and said nothing, staring out the large plastiglass windows at the skyline.  In the distance, he could see the five Towers of the Temple, only partly obscured by some low-level clouds.  It was hard to believe he'd have to leave the only home he'd ever known, the only friends he'd ever known, to travel across the galaxy with a master he barely knew. 

A shrill beep from his master's comlink startled his attentions back to his master. 

"Knight Rian."

Slade watched his master's expression grow slightly frustrated as he spoke to the voice on the other end.  "No, you're not coming in clearly.  Hold on."  

His master stood, still holding the comlink near his mouth.  "Here.  These are enough credits to buy us another round of Blaster Fire.  Go back to the renting desk and get us the vests.  I just need to step outside to take this call.  I'll meet you back over by the arena door."

"But master, I--"

"Just do as I told you."

"I don't think--"

"Slade, go."  The tone of his master's voice left no room for argument, and Slade reluctantly took the credits from his hand.  He watched his master's tall shape move away from the table, blending into the bustling crowd. 

"He'd rather talk to her than to me," Slade grumbled to himself, slowly getting to his feet.  Walking back towards the rental area, he kept his tail close to himself, lest he get stepped on.  He knew that his master meant well; Knight Rian often reminded him that he was still learning too.  Still, he couldn't forget the argument that his master had with the Healer Romi.  They'd both thought he was asleep, but he'd heard every word.  Romi didn't want his master to be allowed to take him back.  He'd said that his master had abandoned him and wasn't fit to be a master at all.   

Slade tried to push aside the words from his mind, remembering what had happened afterward.  His master had taken him home after a night in the Infirmary, and had even made him soup, the kind that he liked best.  Knight Rian was his master now, and he was his padawan.  Even though Rian wasn't perfect, he was the only Jedi who'd ever stepped forward to speak for him.  He thought of his master's words in the Blaster Fire chamber:  'You're going to be one of the best fighters the Jedi Order has ever seen.'  Slade smiled slightly at the thought of his master standing before the Council, requesting him personally.  He had often wondered if he would be one of the ones left behind at age thirteen, shipped off to Agri-Corps.  When Rian had come to see him, it was as though all his fears vanished in an instant.  Except for Obi-Wan, nobody but his master ever seemed to care that he was even around.  Nobody else had ever taken notice of him before. 

A slight gust of wind swept up around his collar, and Slade froze for a moment.  He reached out with the Force, trying to steady himself.  Behind him, the people kept pushing him forward in line, and he was forced to keep walking.  Senses tingling, he wasn't sure whether or not the Force was trying to warn him, or if he'd just passed by another Force-sensitive and his mind had just reacted to it.  A minute passed without any further sign, and Slade finally took a breath, releasing his momentary fears.  He was getting close to the rental desk.

It wasn't until the hypo went into his neck that he felt their hands on his shoulders.  Slade jerked away, lashing out with every limb and flailing with his tail, but his body didn't seem to want to respond.  He felt the slick sting of the hypo being pulled out from his neck, and he tried to open his mouth, but no sound came out.  Twisting himself around, he tried to see who his attackers were, but the crowd just seemed to carry him forward, as if nothing had happened.  He still felt their tight grip on his arms and legs, but his vision had become so blurry, he couldn't make out any faces. 

Closing his eyes, Slade tried to call on the Force, but his senses failed him; it was as if the Force had been pulled beyond his grasp.  He knew it was still there, but he could not longer touch it.  Desperate, he clung tenaciously to the only mental shield that remained, the bond with his master.  Willing all of his strength into the bond, he screamed inside his own mind, hoping his master would hear.

:Master!  Help me!:

***

Rian shouted into the comlink above the roar of air traffic on the outside platform.  "I can't talk right now, I told you already!  I will call you when we get back, all right?" 

He snapped the comlink off, shoving it into his pocket.  The last thing he felt like dealing with right now was Deina. 

Turning away from the open air platform, he walked sedately to rejoin the crowd inside the gaming complex.  It was barely midafternoon, and the place teemed with humanoids and other species alike.  Besides being home to Blaster Fire, the complex held several other levels of rides, games and a small gambling area. 

Rian forced his way through the melee towards the signs for the Blaster Fire chamber, slipping in between the spaces in the crowd.  He didn't mean to make Slade wait that long; Deina had been on one of her rants, and he hadn't been able to duck out of the conversation without listening to her for at least ten minutes.  Hopefully by now the boy had been able to rent their vests and sign them up for the next round.

Scanning the area around the doorway, he saw a robed figure with a silver complexion standing beside the door, holding two vests.  He pushed forward and finally made his way beside his padawan.  "I'm sorry that took so long, Slade.  Are we next?"

"Excuse me?" 

A set of twin blue eyes looked back at him, and Rian looked closer at the figure beside him.  A young humanoid girl crossed her arms over her chest, her skin dusted with silver powder.  Her head was shaved, and sparkled with the same silver powder that covered her face.  "You'd better back off," she said curtly, eyes narrowed.

"Sorry.  I thought you were someone else," Rian muttered, moving away from her.  Turning around, he looked about for another silver-scaled, robed figure, but he could only see the crowd, churning with foreign faces.

Rian waited beside the door for several minutes, but Slade did not appear.  He checked his chrono; it had been nearly ten minutes since he'd left the outside platform.  Taking in a quick breath, he started walking again, heading towards the rental desk.  Perhaps the line was longer than he'd anticipated.

Forcing his way past those waiting in line, he pushed ahead until he caught the eye of one of the arena employees.  "Sir!"

A stout humanoid male stood behind the desk, his cheeks sallow.  "How many?"

"No, I need to ask you a question.  Have you seen a boy, about nine, he's got silver scales and a tail--"    

"Look, I see about three million kids in here every week.  I don't have time to keep track of 'em."  The man's voice sounded bored.

"He was just here...I don't know where he went.  We were supposed to meet beside the Blaster Fire game--"

"If you lost your kid, you need to go over to Customer Service.  They're on the other side of the arena.  They can help you there."  The man looked away from him, meeting the gaze of someone behind Rian.  "Okay!  How many?"

"Sir!" Rian shouted, ignoring the continuous jostle of the people behind him. 

"I said, go to Customer Service!  Next in line please!"

Someone elbowed Rian in the ribs, and he turned around, feeling a surge of irritation rise in his brain.  Quelling it with no small amount of effort, he eased out of line, pushing towards the walls, where there was at least room to take a breath. 

Making his way towards the other side of the arena, he turned over the afternoon's events in his mind.  Slade would be fine; he was a smart kid and had the Force besides.  They had just missed each other.  Slade was probably already over at the Customer Service desk.  Nodding to himself, Rian released a quick sigh.  There was no need to be worried.  Reaching out to the Force, he tried to sense his padawan, but the sheer amount of life signatures that came back to him scattered his senses.  That wasn't going to work.

Several young women stood behind the Customer Service desk, each chattering into a comlink.  "Miss?"

One of the women waved a hand at him, indicating silence.  She finished her conversation, and then clipped the comlink back onto her belt.  "Can I help?"

"Miss, I seem to have lost...a child.  He's nine.  He's got silver scales, and his name is Slade.  Have you seen him?"

She shook her head, shrugging helplessly.  "I haven't, I'm sorry.  Where did you last see him?"

"By the Blaster Fire chamber."

"Did you check inside?  Maybe he went in without you."

Rian sighed, running a hand through his hair.  "I was just over there, and the man at the desk told me to come over here.  It took me ten minutes to get from one side of the arena to the other!  By now he could be anywhere."

"Well, we can make an announcement, but if he's inside one of the gaming chambers, he won't be able to hear it.  Perhaps it's better if you go back to the Blaster Fire area.  I'll make the announcement and tell him to meet you there."

"I'd appreciate it."

***

Rian ran a hand over his stubble, checking his chrono.  It had been five hours now.  He sat in the airtaxi, his knees jerking involuntarily.  He'd waited by the door to Blaster Fire for almost three hours, and had searched the inside of the chamber himself.  Countless announcements later, he finally told the desk to stop.  If he knew Slade, it was very possible that the boy had simply left the arena and taken an airtaxi back to the Temple.  The credits for the game would more than cover the fare back, and he knew how much Slade liked the airtaxis.  It was more than likely that Slade was sitting in the common room of their apartment right now, eating something sweet and not even realizing how much trouble he'd be in when his master came home.

The airtaxi honked its horn, and Rian came back to himself, shaking his head.  He paid the fare, and walked as briskly as possible to the nearest turbolift.  Punching in the codes for his floor, he reviewed the speech he'd make as soon as he saw Slade.  Padawans do not take airtaxis, not without their masters.  Mouthing the words to himself, he stepped out of the lift and walked purposefully towards his door.

It was locked.  "Locking me out," Rian muttered to himself, punching in the keycode sequence.  "As if that'll get you out of trouble."

The door slid open, and Rian stepped inside.  "Slade?"

Only darkness from the windows answered him, spilling in from beyond the raised shades.  "Slade, if you're hiding..."

Rian made his way through the entire apartment, reaching out with his frazzled senses, searching for any sign of the boy.  He found none.

Suddenly, he stopped, holding a hand to his forehead.  The mystery was solved.  "Obi-Wan.  He's got to be with Obi-Wan."

Flicking on the wall comm unit, he tried to remember the code for Qui-Gon's room, failing miserably.  Scrolling back through the last several calls, he finally found the correct number and dialed. 

A voice answered almost immediately.  "Qui-Gon Jinn."

Rian fumbled only for a moment, then found his voice.  "Master Jinn, it's Knight Rian."

"Yes, Rian, what can I do for you?"  Qui-Gon's tone was calm, but Rian knew it was a forced one.

"Look, I know he's over there.  Just send him back, please."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Rian rolled his eyes at the wall comm.  "Don't play along with their joke.  It's not funny anymore.  Just send Slade back here."

A pause came through the receiver.  "Rian, Slade's not here.  He hasn't been here all week."

Rian felt his chest tighten, and he sucked in a quick breath.  "Oh.  Nevermind then.  Sorry."

"Is everything all right?"  Qui-Gon sounded concerned, but Rian shook his head at the wall comm, stepping back slightly.

"It's fine.  Slade's...just playing a game."  Rian thought quickly, trying to salvage the remnants of the conversation.  The last person he needed to know about the situation with Slade was Qui-Gon.  "Oh!"  He forced himself to sound relieved.  "There he is."  Rian covered the receiver with a hand.  "Slade!  Go to your room!  You're in big trouble!"  Returning to Qui-Gon, he put on a phony chuckle.  "Kids.  I told him to be back here ten minutes ago."

"So everything is all right then?" Qui-Gon asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"It's fine.  Just forget I called.  Rian out."

The comm beeped off, and Rian fell against the wall, sliding down until he sunk cross-legged on the floor.  Things had spun wildly out of control. 

Reaching up for the comlink with a shaking hand, he sought out the Force's steadying peace, but it seemed elusive, beyond his grasp.  He entered the keycode, dimly aware of what he was about to say.

"Temple Emergency.  Can I help?"

Rian exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.  "This is Knight Rian, and I need to report a missing Padawan."

TBC