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Survival

by: Skye

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Chapter 6

It took time to rebuild a Jedi from the inside out. Time that Qui-Gon Jinn was just not willing to concede. He wanted to be well now. He wanted that trained body to respond as it always had. He wanted out of the medical facility and back into his own life, preferably to try to forget what had taken place to land him in this situation.

The fight with the Sith had shaken him badly. The loss to the Sith was far more damaging. He was getting old. He was slow. The Sith had been at his peak of power and performance -- what he, Qui-Gon Jinn, had been twenty years ago. The realization hurt. It was depressing. Further, there was the knowledge that he had not known with the easy instinctive responses of knowledge long-held exactly how to deal with the lightstaff. That sort of failing in his training was upsetting. In fact, he found himself dwelling on that fight to the point of obsession, replaying what he could remember of it, trying to redesign his responses to improve the speed and accuracy of his blows, to design a different school of attack, a better defense. He spent most of his waking hours in the medical unit focused on this.

The fact that his body was healing so slowly did little to improve his mental focus. The effort required merely to rise and walk demanded a tremendous drain on his resources. He wasn't going to go anywhere very fast or very soon. Qui-Gon became even more quiet as he reflected on the sudden changes in focus and realities that this small diplomatic trade negotiation had wrought in his life.

He was finally released from the medical unit and allowed to return to the quarters that were his within the Jedi Temple. It wasn't far from the medical unit, and he was far from alone living within the Temple. They were satisfied is granting him this one small step toward independence, certain that they would be there to assist him should he need them.

Anakin was delighted to be back in his company, and spent long hours of the day at his side, helping, catering to any need Qui-Gon might reveal and peppering him with endless questions. The fact that Qui-Gon rarely said anything that wasn't a response to a direct question didn't seem to concern him. Qui-Gon, in turn, found himself intensely grateful for nightfall, for the quiet that would return to his life as the child slept. R2D2 had also moved in with him. At least tinkering with the droid kept the child occupied for some time during each day, but not long enough before the incessant chatter began again.

Obi-Wan had finally bowed to the demands of being a Jedi and had been sent out on his first mission. Qui-Gon missed his steady presence far more than he ever dreamed that he would. Obi-Wan had been at his side for nearly thirteen years and had grown from adolescent apprentice to fellow Jedi and friend during those years. Qui-Gon realized swiftly that Obi-Wan's absence left a palpable hole in the fabric of his life. Reminding himself that this new Jedi's acceptance of position represented the proper culmination of the relationship of Master and apprentice, and was precisely why he had had that child at his side in training brought mental agreement, but did little to heal the emptiness in his heart.

Old, weak, in pain and alone. What a wonderful end of a splendid career, he chided himself. And now he was facing the next twelve to fifteen years as inadequate master to that wild child over there who never shut up.

Patience seemed to be another virtue flown away with his youth, though he seemed to be refraining from biting the child's head off. Anakin's questions were sincere and surprisingly insightful for someone so young. But even had he the maturity of someone five years his senior, he would still have been merely at the level of a 13-year-old adolescent, and he would still have been a child. Oh how he missed the company of his friend..

Qui-Gon sighed deeply, then turned back to consider the specter that hung before him; a Sith, twirling a brilliantly glowing lightstaff, taunting him, reminding him of his dual failures of age and lack of preparedness.

"Master Qui-Gon?" Anakin called from where he stood by the window. As a Master Jedi, Qui-Gon was one of those granted the luxury of an outside apartment with a spectacular view of Coruscant's cityscape. Anakin had been staring out of the window all morning, watching the traffic below.

"Master Qui-Gon," he called, more insistently this time. "Can we go somewhere?"

"Go?" he echoed vaguely. "Go where?"

"I don't know. I just want to go somewhere. Anywhere," he replied, waving his arms expansively. "There's so much going on out there and I haven't seen ANYTHING. All we do is sit here."

The boy was right, Qui-Gon reflected guiltily. He might be still be old and stiff and sore, both in body and in spirit, but Anakin was an active 9-year-old with a very active mind. Living cooped in the small apartment was doing little for him. As his guardian, he was failing in this too. He had no right to keep this child locked away, even if he personally never felt like moving again.

"All right," he acquiesced reluctantly. "Where would you like to go?"

"You mean it? We're going to go somewhere? Yippee!" The celebration dance performed by his padawan brought him across the room in less than a heartbeat to stand before him in readiness. The delight in the child's eyes made Qui-Gon smile in spite of his gloom. "Anywhere, Qui-Gon. I want to see it all!"

"I know just the place. We'll go to the nature dome."

The older Jedi rose slowly, moving toward his sleeping chamber to prepare to go out. Anakin tagged along behind him, energy and excitement fairly crackling off of him.

"What's that? What will we see there? Rik Olie' said this planet was one huge city. He said he'd never want to live here. I guess I can understand that. It's really different from Naboo. No grass or waterfalls or birds or anything."

"They're here," Qui-Gon assured him. They've just been moved to an area where they'll be safe and preserved always. "

"You mean it's been locked away?" Anakin stared at him in astonishment. "That doesn't sound right."

"I agree with you," Qui-Gon replied, coming back into the room with boots in hand. "I would rather allow nature the freedom to do what it will. But civilization took control of this planet long before you or I were born, and they felt there wasn't room for both the city's needs and the space that nature required. So they set aside areas where the green things and the creatures could continue undisturbed. It is not the best way, but at least they still exist."

"I'd like to seem something outside," Anakin promised. "Green, sandy, hot, wet.even plascrete. I don't care," he grinned. "Are there people out there too? From different places?"

"From all over the galaxy."

"Oh, like Mos Espa."

Qui-Gon smiled at that one. "A little bigger than Mos Espa, Anakin."

"Wow," he replied turning back to the vista below that beckoned to him.

"Are you ready then?" Qui-Gon asked, standing slowly, unfolding carefully against the pain of not-fully-healed wounds and stiffened joints. He'd been idle for far too long, his body told him. He'd never gone so long without moving. The training drills were part of every day of his life.

His previous life.

Sighing, he slipped into his cloak, then lifted his lightsaber to clip it onto his belt. He considered that for a long moment, turning it in his hand before returning it to the table by the door. He shouldn't need to use it here in Couruscant. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to anyway. Another part of his former life. Turning carefully away from the lightsaber, he ushering Anakin out of the door.

They moved through the quiet corridors, nodding greetings to those whose pleasure at seeing the respected Master Qui-Gon Jinn among them was more than evident.

"They like you a lot," Anakin observed cheerfully. "They were all just really worried when you were hurt. Everybody here was so sad."

Qui-Gon shot him a sharp look. For some reason, having the attention of the entire Temple turned in his direction made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"Hi, Lellin!" Anakin called as they approached the Jedi who greeted visitors to the Jedi Temple.

The Jedi nodded to him. "Going out, Anakin?"

"Yeah! We're gonna go where they keep the nature stuff." The child's grin was broad and his enthusiasm infectious."

"You'll like it there. It's a beautiful place. Very green," the older Jedi assured him before turning an appraising eye toward the master.

"And how are you, Master Qui-Gon," he asked politely.

"Well, thank you," was the terse reply. "Let's go, Anakin."

"Yup," Anakin continued as they swung out of the main doors and out onto the street. "They all like you a lot. They all wanted to help, but I knew you didn't like having all those people around, so I told Master Windu about it. Then Master Yoda said only your best friends could help. Lots of people were really disappointed, but they wanted you to be well, so that was okay with them. They just came by a lot to ask about you."

"They did?" Qui-Gon frowned at this new and startling bit of information, but Anakin remained oblivious to his discomfort.

"Uh huh. All the time. What's down there?" Anakin asked, pointing to a building that glistened in the sun.

"The Amidorian ambassador's residence."

"Oh. He really likes mirrors, doesn't he."

Qui-Gon smiled. "They do like bright colors and shiny things."

"Are they the bird people?"

"Yes."

"Oh, well, that explains it then. Yeah, you have lots of friends. I think some of them like me, too. But some of them don't." His small face clouded at the thought of those stiff, glaring Jedi.

"Not everyone will like you, Ani. As long as you have a friend or two somewhere, it really doesn't matter. Not as long as you know what you do is right."

"I don't think I've done anything wrong," he replied, small face clouded with worry. "Not exactly, anyway."

Qui-Gon offered a breath of a laugh to that one and reached out to smooth Anakin's hair. "I'm sure you haven't, young one. You are always very mindful."

"How much further?" Momentary worry forgotten, Anakin's energy manifested itself in small, darting side trips to look down this street or at that shuttle, while Qui-Gon's seemed to be fading fast.

"Not far," he answered, grateful for that knowledge. "Just around that corner. He pointed toward a large transparent dome covering an expanse of green.

"Oh, wizard!" exclaimed his young charge, running forward to press his ace against the shield. "It's all green inside, just like Naboo! I wonder if the air will be wet like Naboo's."

"Wet?"

"Yeah, all soft and warm and wet. Tatooine's air is hot 'n dry."

"Interesting observation," was Qui-Gon's comment as he ushered his charge toward the entrance.

The nature dome was in essence a huge chunk of Coruscant that had been shielded over and left to its own devices in so far as it could be. The grass was clipped short, the leaves raked at appropriate intervals, but for the most part, it was beautifully wild. It was also a very popular place, with many children involved in running and squealing games that were unsafe on the city streets.

"Go explore," Qui-Gon bid him. "Go meet the other children."

Anakin's small face lifted toward his, expression closed, eyes worried. "What are you going to do," he demanded anxiously.

"I am going to sit on that bench right there," the master reassured him, pointing to a lovely seat under a tall tree. "I won't move, I promise." I won't leave you he reassured without saying the words. It would be a long time before Anakin overcame the fears instilled by his master's injuries and the subsequent abandonment by the Jedi when they left him on Naboo.

Anakin nodded hesitantly, then glanced back where a group of young boys were playing a game. "Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Go enjoy yourself. We have all the time in the day."

Anakin eyed him critically. "I don't think you do. You're going all white again. You just sit there. I'll be back soon to check on you." With that, Anakin gave in to the lure of freedom of play and pounded off at top speed.

Going white again, he sighed inwardly. Check on me? A 9-year-old now feels responsible for being my keeper. Will I never be past this? Am I always to be an invalid?

Probably, his fears whispered back to him. You're old. You're slow. And now you're damaged, a Jedi useful for nothing but creeping about the temple and minding small children.

Closing his mind against that nightmare, Qui-Gon began a series of breathing and meditation exercises, unaware of the scrutiny of other parents in the dome. He could feel them there, creeping up to eye this new visitor to their realm curiously. He'd learned long ago to ignore those who stared at the Jedi. Now the outsiders who stared were only a continuation of those who stared at home. He was obtaining a great deal of practice at shutting out other minds.

Take a deep breath. Feel it filling your lungs (wonderful lungs that breathe!) Let it out slowly, releasing the tension as you do. It was an old practice, to begin focus, but he seemed to be starting over in many aspects of his life. Why not in the meditations as well. His subconscious tuned for the sound of Ani's voice, Qui-Gon lost himself in the meditations.

"Hello," a voice said softly into his ear, startling him from his peaceful meditation into heart-pounding awareness. He spun on his bench to face this sudden intrusion in alarm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you so." Qui-Gon looked up and into the grinning face of Obi-Wan. "Lellin told me you'd be here. I'm glad to see you out again. You could use some sun," he observed, raking a critical gaze over his master. "And some weight. By the gods you've gotten thin! Are you eating at all?"

"Thank you for those observations, Obi-Wan," he snapped testily. "I'm fine. What brings you here?"

Obi-Wan recoiled mentally under the bite. This was not the meeting he'd envisioned at all. "I'm sorry," he offered gently. "I meant no offense, Master. I've just gotten into the habit of worrying over you. I care about you, you know." Obi-Wan's smile informed Qui-Gon that he was not in the least repentant over his overprotectiveness.

"I've finished my first mission, Master. I think it went well," Obi-Wan informed his friend, changing the subject to safer matters. His enthusiasm echoed in the Force around him, bouncing off Qui-Gon's mind.

"I'm certain that it did. Tell me about it." Obi-Wan settled on the bench beside him and elaborated while Qui-Gon enjoyed the presence of his friend of so many years, and the communication with another adult. Within moments the stiffness and defensiveness melted away from Qui-Gon and the old, easy relationship was resumed.

It felt wonderful. The conversation and easy company continued into the afternoon before Obi-Wan sat up and reached behind his back, collecting something off of his belt.

"I've brought you something," he smiled, secretive with the delight of his surprise. Pulling his hand from under his cloak, Obi-Wan held out to his master a lightsaber. An unusually long lightsaber.

Qui-Gon flinched, and felt the blood drain from his face. It was a lightstaff, just like the one Darth Maul had used against them. He sat, stunned into immobility at the shock of seeing it.

"I made it for you," Obi-Wan offered, then stopped, startled by his master's reaction. "You said you wanted to work with one." Qui-Gon simply stared. "I'm sorry, Master. I never intended to upset you," he apologized, horrified by what he'd caused. He moved to return it to his belt, to hide the deadly thing back under his cloak, but Qui-Gon's hand reached out to catch his wrist.

"No," he protested. "No, don't do that. I'm sorry, it was just.a surprise, that's all. Yes, I did say I wanted to work with one, and it was incredibly thoughtful of you to build this. It couldn't have been easy for you either," he concluded with a wan smile.

Obi-Wan carefully handed him the lightstaff, watching anxiously for any change in Qui-Gon's expression or feel through the Force.

"Activate it," he encouraged. "See how it feels."

Qui-Gon shifted it in his hand, then experimentally turned it this way and that. "It's beautifully balanced," he commented, looking up toward Obi-Wan. "You've done a brilliant job with it."

"Then turn it on. Let's see how it handles."

"No," he replied, voice flat and expressionless. "This is not the place nor the time."

"There's no one around for ages," he replied, sweeping one arm at the expanse of unoccupied grass. "There's no danger. There's not even anyone left to watch."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow at that. Obi-Wan was stretching that a bit. They weren't that isolated. There were still people visible in the park, and the laughter of the children indicated they were within easy reach, though not visible through the trees.

"At least turn it on," Obi-Wan coaxed.

Seeing how much it mattered to his friend, Qui-Gon reluctantly touched the small space that sent the blade rising from one end of it. It glowed a brilliant green, he noted with an unexpected surge of relief, and not the red of his nightmares. Noting Obi-Wan's eagerness, he touched the control that extended the second blade, bringing the new weapon to its full eight feet of deadly capabilities. Qui-Gon shuddered inside, remembering the range and sweep of the weapon, of it flashing and spinning in front of him-

But Obi-Wan was waiting. Rising, he gave an experimental twist of his wrist, finding that the weapon remained easily balanced in his hand, dragging neither one way, nor the other.

"This is very fine work, Obi-Wan," he admitted. "Very well-balanced."

"Only the finest for my Master," he replied easily.

"You have to stop calling me that," he chided gently, hoping to keep the sadness from his voice. "I am no longer your master."

"You are a master Jedi. I am entitle to call you master if I so chose," he replied with another unrepentant grin. "Only I will know which I mean, Master."

It wasn't worth the argument. Qui-Gon turned his attention back to the lethal force in his hand. He made a couple of passes with it, spun it experimentally. Something in his heart was satisfied with the hum and vibration of a lightsaber in his hand. Something shouted at him of completeness, of missing this. He ignored it, and powered down the weapon, only to find Obi-Wan facing him with his lightsaber glowing a cheerful blue.

"Let's try a few passes."

"No."

"Master, I-"

"No. Not here. Not now," he cut him off firmly, tone brooking no argument. I will work with a practice staff before I use your.finely crafted and very thoughtful gift."

"Master-"

"I will not take the chance on someone being injured by my inexperience."

Obi-Wan knew his master well after so many years at his side. He'd heard this tone only a few times over those years, and it was usually when the unruly apprentice was about to die beneath his master's succinct and caustic criticism. But he was no longer an apprentice, and this was vitally important.

"Qui-Gon, please. Humor me. Let's get the feel of it. Try just the one end. The balance is such that I believe it can be used as a standard lightsaber. I need to know if this is built correctly."

Qui-Gon frowned at this. Obi-Wan felt very worried, deeply concerned about.something. Could he really be so concerned about this lightstaff? If so, it was strange of him to put such importance into a simple tool he'd built. But the emotions from his friend were building, and he was very much concerned. It was something.well, whatever it was, it mattered deeply to him.

Qui-Gon sighed wearily, then reluctantly triggered one blade of the lightstaff. "All right. A few passes, then. But I don't think I can do much."

Obi-Wan straightened and saluted him, as one always salutes a master before practice. Then the blue blade swung at him, and Qui-Gon found his blade moving in answer without any conscious thought, blocking it in a fiery haze of flair at the contact. Another pass, and again his blade was in the correct position. Obi-Wan continued slowly, a stroke here, another careful series from beginner level practice drills, on through the intermediate and hopefully, eventually if not today, the advanced. And beyond.

Parry. Counterstrike. Move, block, swing. Qui-Gon's hands and body did for him what his heart refused to do, reveling in the motion so long denied.

Obi-Wan watched carefully, and noted with satisfaction the moment that Qui-Gon's eyes took on the slightly vacant stare he had when letting the Force guide his drills. He wasn't consciously thinking about the fight, then. Obi-Wan repressed a smile and increased the tempo just a bit. Qui-Gon answered with little effort. Obi-Wan stepped it up just a bit more. Within just moments, the two were sparring as they had been only a few weeks earlier, at blinding speed, lightsabers humming and whistling, crackling as they glanced off each other only to redirect and strike again.

And Qui-Gon was keeping up. Elation soared through Obi-Wan, and he threw his all into it, as though it were Maul he faced again instead of his dearest friend, pushing Qui-Gon into a match approaching the best he had to offer. Obi-Wan was careful in releasing his skills to his utmost; Qui-Gon's muscles were no longer toned, and within a few moments of full-speed sparring it was clear he was tiring swiftly. The strikes were not as strong, the reactions were slowing, the moves not quite as accurate as they should be.

Time to stop.

Obi-Wan stepped back instantly, disengaging from the match, bowing as he conceded to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon stared at him for a moment, weaving where he stood as he touched the saber off. As Obi-Wan watched, Qui-Gon's knees buckled and he collapsed limply the ground, lying motionless except for his frantic panting. After a few gasping breaths, he looked up at Obi-Wan, who moved to drop to the grass beside him.

"Master? Are you alright? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you so fast," he apologized, appalled that he had pushed the still-weakened man so far. His face was lined with concern as he bent over his master.

Qui-Gon managed to waggle his fingers at him in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture, indicating that he would survive. It took a few more moments of panting, but Qui-Gon finally pushed himself up on arms trembling with fatigue into a sitting position.

"Don't look so worried, Obi-Wan. I'll live." He even managed a shaky smile to try to ease the concern that seemed to be so permanent a part of his former apprentice's gaze now. As he watched, however, the expression in those eyes changed from concern to something far more positive.

"That was wonderful, Master. You are still the finest I have ever seen." He looked at Qui-Gon, eyes dancing with delight at the exchange.

"I."

"-Can still fight with the best of them." He reached out to put a hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder in both commiseration and reassurance. "I know you've been somewhat.disheartened lately. But this should prove even to you, oh stubborn one, that you are still just as capable of wielding a lightsaber as you ever were. You were wounded, and it takes a while to heal from some things. It's not permanent," Obi-Wan pointed out emphatically.

Not permanent. His heart was still pounding and his new lungs burned as he panted for air. His body ached and unfit muscles were trembling, burning and twitching from the overuse he'd just rammed them through, warning of much misery over the next few days in retaliation. And he doubted he had the strength to stand right now. But beyond these minor complaints, he felt wonderful.

He seemed to remember feeling the same way in his 20s, when his own master had pushed him well past his physical limits. Then, over time, his body had developed new strength and had adjusted to the new demands. Maybe Obi-Wan was right. Maybe, just maybe, he could do it again?

"-And he's a Master Jedi. That's why he wears the black cloak. Only masters wear those. And he's the best Master with a lightsaber in FOUR HUNDRED YEARS!"

Anakin's gleeful voice reached them, and Qui-Gon sighed before looking up to find that they were nearly ringed by wide-eyed, open-mouthed observers, with his young apprentice holding court in the center of a very attentive group of listeners.

"I heard Master Yoda say so, and he's the head of the Council. And Master Qui-Gon is MY Master," Anakin continued "And he's gonna teach me to fight just like that!"

The look of utter weariness, combined with contained and cumulative frustration on the face of his usually imperturbable master had Obi-Wan laughing out loud. At a glare from the older Jedi, he buried his face in his hands, trying to stop laughing as Qui-Gon sighed, and climbed slowly to his feet.

"Anakin," he growled warningly.

"I've seen him fight. 'Droids, mostly and he's sooo great!"

"Anakin," he repeated, the tone growing colder as he strode across the grass to his new apprentice.

"And then-" Anakin choked off his narration as Qui-Gon reached him, face expressionless but eyes warning of impending mayhem for apprentices. Eyes wide, the boy froze as the tall form reached him.

Qui-Gon leaned down to hiss something into Anakin's ear, then straightened to face those assembled. "I apologize for my apprentice's boastfulness on my behalf," he addressed those gathered there with tremendous dignity for one who had moments before been lying on the grass. "He is young and easily impressed."

The amazed expressions in the adults around him never flickered, indicating that they, too, were impressed, even if the Jedi Master ended up flat on his back gasping like a netted fish afterwards.

"I don't think they've ever seen a Jedi performing at full speed, Master," Obi-Wan commented cheerfully, brushing off bits of grass from his pants. "We're just these strange people who move around the city to them. They've heard about lightsaber duels, but I doubt any of them have seen one. Have you?" he asked of those assembled who silently shook their heads. "Well, that's what a trained Jedi can do. But I'm sure you know that we are here to support the Republic, in the name of peace." Obi-Wan's smile managed to coax a few smiles in return.

Qui-Gon's heart sank, the joy of the previous moments vanishing in the discord he was sure to come. The council would hear of this shortly, probably even before they got back to the Temple. There would be some terse, harsh words for worn-out old masters who had no better sense than to create such a public spectacle in a community location. The image of the Jedi was very important to the Order as a whole, reflecting upon their ability to do their work throughout the galaxy. Respect would not be garnered by two Jedi putting on street corner shows like that. The worst part was that he knew better, and let it happen anyway. He wasn't much of a master anymore, with flawed judgement now to match the damaged body.

~TBC~