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Survival

by: Skye

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Chapter 7

"Hey," demanded a young voice at Qui-Gon's side as a small hand banged against his elbow. He glanced down to find a small girl holding his cloak. She offered it to him, eyes wide and shining with admiration. "Could you gonna do that again tomorrow? My father would love to see that. He saw a Jedi fight before I was born and he's STILL talking about it. That was just soooo wizard!"

"I think you have admirer," Obi-Wan observed to Qui-Gon. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to answer the child, Obi-Wan stepped in. "I don't know if we'll be back tomorrow, but perhaps, if you want us too.." He let the statement trail off, waiting for a response from those around. The delight from their audience left little doubt that an encore would be appreciated.

"You don't mind us drilling in your park?" Obi-Wan pressed.

"You're welcome anytime, Jedi," an older man answered. "We're honored to have you here. Especially Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

The master turned, startled. "You know me?"

The man nodded and shrugged. "It was a small thing for you, I'm sure. You rescued my daughter." Qui-Gon's blank stare prompted the speaker to continue with more details. "She caught the wrong shuttle the first time we let her go to the Center by herself. She wasn't much older than your little fellow there," he added, pointing at Anakin, who was now trying to practice invisibility behind Qui-Gon's tall form. "She was lost and too terrified to even ask for help. The gods only know how long it would have taken to find her, or what would have happened to her. You brought her home to us. And you never said anything about it. Just brought her to the path to our door and walked away. If you hadn't given her your name, we'd ever have known who the stranger who saved her was. I tried to thank you, but you were never at the Temple. She pointed you out once as you walked by, but I couldn't reach in time to speak. I've not forgotten you, Master. And I won't. I'm still very grateful. So far as I'm concerned, the Jedi are always welcome." He studied Qui-Gon for a moment then added, "She said you had kind eyes. She was right, you do. I can she why she trusted you, even scared as she was."

Qui-Gon, the quintessential Jedi diplomat could only stare speechlessly, but the unexpected warmth he felt from this man and the support of the crowd around them buoyed his spirits.

The others responded with murmurs of agreement. Obi-Wan nodded, inwardly delighted with how this day had turned out. It had been a gamble, but he had to do something. He couldn't bear watching his friend sink further into depression and isolation day after day. Something had to draw him out, to remind him that he was still a skilled Jedi Master and still in his prime. Today seemed to have accomplished exactly what he was hoping for.

"Master, shall we take your little chatterbox back to the Temple? It's been a long week for me, and I would really like to sit down and talk with you for a while. Perhaps we could work with the staff tomorrow?"

Qui-Gon smiled, feeling more himself that he had since he first left for Naboo. "That sounds like a fine plan, Obi-Wan. And thank you."

"For what?" he replied, feigning innocence.

"Just.thank you."

"My pleasure, my Master. Let's go home."

* * *

The crowd had gathered on the park green, bigger this day than it had been the day before. Exchanging glances, the two Jedi dropped their hoods and walked toward the expectant group of people. A murmur arose, traveling like wildfire around the circle, while those closest to them turned and watched, almost hungrily, as Master Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Anakin approached.

"See, Dad?" A little girl beamed up at her father. "I told you they'd come. They come every day."

"I didn't believe her," said the man to the stranger beside him. "I mean, just think of it -- Jedi, practicing in the park? I figured it was just two kids, playing with their toys. Sure wish I'd listened. To think what I've been missing all this time...."

Then we'll have to give you a show you won't soon forget, thought Obi-Wan, suppressing a grin. He knew it was wrong to feel so proud about doing this. But if he looked closely at his feelings, he knew it wasn't so much a personal pride he felt, but gratitude regarding the man with whom he was practicing. I'm very lucky to have been his apprentice, he thought, and very lucky to be able to call him my friend. I couldn't ever ask for a better teacher or mentor, friend or father.

"Anakin." Qui-Gon handed him his cloak.

Anakin took Obi-Wan's cloak as well, then skittered over to sit at the inside edge of the circle. Several children looked at him curiously, as though wanting to engage him in conversation. But the boy looked neither right nor left. Folding the cloaks carefully in his lap, he knelt down and watched Master Qui-Gon intently.

Did I ever look that hungry and hopeful watching my master? Obi-Wan wondered. Probably.

Walking in a wide circle, Obi-Wan motioned the inner ring of people back a little. "Could you give us some room to work, please, then we'll all be safe? At least four feet more? That's it. Thank you."

"You're becoming quite the showman," Qui-Gon said when his erstwhile apprentice joined him.

"We do need the room, master."

"Agreed. Every day, it seems that they creep a little closer."

"Not as close as they used to. Not since you nearly shaved the nose off of that woman."

"Well," Qui-Gon said mildly, "she should have known better than to come in here before we were finished. I still don't know what she was thinking." Only lightning-fast reflexes had saved the stranger from being scarred for life. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Do you want the staff or the saber first?"

"The lightstaff." He held out his hand. "I want to try out something new."

Clapping the staff into his former teacher's hand, Obi-Wan walked a few paces away, turned and bowed. Qui-Gon echoed the move, then balanced his weight back on one foot to activate one end of the lightstaff, and then the other.

The crowd murmured appreciatively. Obi-Wan smiled.

He's enjoying these sessions far too much, thought Qui-Gon. As am I. The master was even coming to enjoy the sound of the lightstaff in his hand -- something he'd found was necessary before he could truly become one with any weapon. It didn't feel or sound like any lightsaber he'd ever handled -- the buzz was more aggressive, stronger and more...eager for destruction. Ah, well... it was probably just his imagination, his past experiences with Darth Maul coloring what he was feeling. A weapon was just a tool; it had no soul.

Twirling the lightstaff experimentally, he thoughtfully circled Obi-Wan, watching the Jedi's eyes and looking for any weakness, any mental opening. The young Jedi tried to take his master by surprise, springing forward and initiating a blaze of assaults that had Qui-Gon racing backward to keep up. The crowd behind him scattered -- more in the desire not to get their toes mashed than because they sensed any danger.

Leaping abruptly to one side to avoid running into at least ten people who were far more close than they should have been, Qui-Gon blocked his friend's saber but did not disengage or retreat. Looking away from Obi-Wan, whom he knew would hold the position until hell froze over unless Qui-Gon told him to release, the master Jedi addressed the crowd.

"If you people do not get out of the way this instant and stay out of the way, Obi-Wan and I will break off this engagement and not resume our practice. Do you understand?"

The singeing crackle of battling lightsaber and staff echoed the ferocity of Qui-Gon's delivery. As always, the unpleasant sound and vibration of it beneath his palms made Obi-Wan grit his teeth. He knew that Qui-Gon didn't enjoy it, either.

No one moved. Qui-Gon shook his head, then stepped back from Obi-Wan. "This is getting out of hand," he said softly. "We must discontinue this."

"Are you sure, Master? " He glanced around the crowd, who were now shifting uneasily, murmuring among themselves at this change in the daily routine of the Jedi. "They enjoy it so. We enjoy it." he trailed off, a soft plea for their time together to continue. " Surely there's another way."

Qui-Gon considered the request for a long moment, expression serious and lending no hint as to the thoughts behind it. Finally, he nodded. With a slight push off and a brief glance, Qui-Gon walked away from Obi-Wan, who turned off his saber and stood quietly. Oh-oh, he thought, watching his master cross the green. They're in for it now. Glancing over at Anakin, Obi-Wan saw that the boy was on his feet and moving well out of range as well, just in case.

Walking around the ever-narrowing edge of the circle, Qui-Gon twirled the lightstaff overhead. "While we appreciate your interest in our drills, I must ask again that you stand clear of our circle. This is not a training blade. It is not a harmless prop. It is a lightstaff. It is a weapon designed to kill. This I know first-hand, and I can assure you it is not a pleasant way to die. It will also remove your hand, your leg, or anything else that gets in its way in less than the blink of an eye. Obi-Wan and I have trained for many years to master these skills. You must stay well clear of this."

Expression grave, Qui-Gon continued to walk the circle, making eye contact with individuals as he went. "When we ask you to provide us a circle at least twenty meters in diameter, it is because we need one. Your tightening that circle places you in grave danger. This is the perimeter of the circle we require--" Lowering the staff, he trailed the end of against the ground and slowly paced the perimeter of his circle, with the blade humming and sputtering over the continued contact with the grounding dirt. The smell of burnt grass filled the air. An uneasy murmur rippled through those assembled as they witnessed the results of even a casual touch of the blade on a living thing. The charred, smoking circle continued to close as Qui-Gon continued to travel the circle. "This is a line over which you will step only in peril of your life. Do I make myself clear?"

He was met with staring eyes and uncertain expressions. Evidently nstant death was not an element that they had mentally included in watching Jedi sparring. The graphic demonstration of the lethal force they wielded so easily seemed to have shocked them all.

Perhaps it would have been better simply to cease working here, Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. We are gaining no friends for the Jedi this way. He glanced toward his fellow Jedi to indicate his decision, but hesitated once he made eye contact with him. Obi-Wan's hopefulness leaked through the calm expression worn for the outside world. Obi-Wan wanted this....

Turning back to those assembled, Qui-Gon tried once more to make his message clear. "Do you understand me? Can you give us this space? If you cannot promise me this, Obi-Wan and I will have no choice but to stop our visits here. I cannot endanger you, and that is what I am doing when you press so close."

Hard blue eyes demanded an answer.

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon," someone spoke up.

"Yessir."

The echo was taken up around the circle. Obi-Wan had the feeling that some of these people were thrilled that the Master was talking to them, period, regardless it was in the form of a scolding.

Turning his head, Obi-Wan saw Anakin scramble to get outside the line. Watching the child, the Jedi didn't realize that Qui-Gon had returned and was standing directly before him. The only warning he got that the fight had resumed was the loud buzz of the lightstaff winging through the air, straight toward his head. Responding automatically, he blocked it, only to discover that Qui-Gon was going next for his legs, and then his back as the master executed a perfect forward flip and landed behind Obi-Wan. The next thing he knew, the staff was buzzing right next to his ear, and his lightsaber was still at his side.

"You are beheaded, my friend."

Sighing, Obi-Wan deactivated his weapon. "Well, Master, that was a short fight."

"I had the advantage. You were distracted."

Obi-Wan bowed. "I will ensure that it does not happen again."

And he will, Qui-Gon pondered, handing over the lightstaff and backing away to unclip his lightsaber. I've never had to point out a fault twice to him. His corrections are immediate and permanent.

Waiting for Obi-Wan to ground himself and begin again, Qui-Gon thought, These practices are useful, in more ways than one. We practice in private so much, for so many years, it's good to get out among the people, good to test our concentration and abilities in peaceful settings, before needing to test them in... more dangerous settings. It's good, as long as no one gets hurt.

Checking the perimeter, Qui-Gon was pleased so see that no one was daring to step over his line of blackened, crisped grass. Good.

Raising his head, Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's gaze and nodded briefly to signal his readiness. The lightstaff whirled in a blur of green fire as Obi-Wan twirled it expertly, then leaped forward, using alternate ends to attack his opponent.

Qui-Gon was ready for it, and parried each blow with lightning speed, then ducked under the blade to swing at Obi-Wan's knees. That sent the young man dancing out of range, with the older Jedi pursing with a high attack, now that the blade had lowered on one end. Obi-Wan saw the strike coming and spun away, sweeping the deadly staff at nearly full length, trying to drive Qui-Gon back as he regrouped. It didn't work. As the blade cleared the master, continuing in the arc to which it was committed, Qui-Gon spun away and swung into the open side of his attacker. Obi-Wan's defense was now half a step out of time, with Qui-Gon driving relentlessly forward with all of the advantages and clearly in deadly command of the situation.

The two competitors staggered apart, panting desperately. A few moments to regain their breath, and Qui-Gon nodded in satisfaction.

"Did you see what happened there?" he asked quietly.

"Mhhmm. Lost a beat there. Gave you an opening. That was a brilliant move, Master. I couldn't really recover from it," he confessed.

"Good. That's what I'd hoped for. Now," he nodded, straightening from where he'd stood, hands braced on thighs as his heart slowed. "Let's switch out again."

Obi-Wan tossed the deactivated lightstaff toward Qui-Gon, who caught it with a Jedi's casual ease. The lightsaber was returned to his belt and Obi-Wan brought his out.

Cocking his head, he looked enquiringly at Obi-Wan who nodded readiness. Both weapons glowed to fiery life, humming a warning of power and deadly ability. Qui-Gon lunged abruptly toward Obi-Wan, forcing him into defensive maneuvers before he had a chance to move. The fight looked horrific with blurring blades flying at impossible speeds as the Jedi engaged, spun and closed again in a deadly dance of combat.

Suddenly Qui-Gon stepped back, holding the lightstaff vertically, stopping the engagement. "Obi-Wan, you left a tremendous opening with that last turn. You've set your foot so far to the side that it takes too long to get your balance through the turn. Try that again, only take only half a step this time. Turn your foot instead."

Obi-Wan nodded, then brought his lightsaber to center before his body, ready for his master's attack. The long blade whirled at him as it had moments before, but this time Obi-Wan moved in a quick graceful turn that left nothing but empty air where the blade descended, instead of the awkward lunge to the side.

"That's it. That was perfect."

"It felt much better, Master. Much easier."

They stood breathing heavily, staring at each other, neither one moving to begin the drill again.

"Had enough?" Qui-Gon asked finally.

Obi-Wan nodded, then ran a hand through his longer, sweat-dampened hair where it fell across his forehead. The padawan haircut was growing out slowly, obstinately remaining in that awkward too-long-but-too-short stage, and annoying the younger man intensely. Qui-Gon smiled at the gesture as he deactivated the staff. Turning from Obi-Wan, he bowed and addressed the crowd.

"We have finished for the day. Thank you all for your cooperation."

There were grumbles, but nothing very serious. With great reluctance, many of the people began moving away.

"Are you satisfied now, Master?" Obi-Wan asked as he walked over to retrieve his cloak from Anakin. "Are we prepared to your satisfaction yet?"

"No," he answered softly. "I don't think I'll ever be satisfied. The consequences of failure are too devastating. But I do feel more confident about our ability to counter this hellish thing," he added, hefting the deactivated lightstaff in his hands.

"Master Windu said you were going to teach the others?"

"Anyone who wishes to learn. We cannot have such a vulnerability in our training. And if this is a weapon the Sith use, we must know it, too. All of us," he concluded darkly.

He bent to retrieve his cloak, only to find it was being offered by his eager apprentice. Anakin had watched the entire long workout without a sound, totally entranced with the skill and speed of Jedi reflexes honed to their peak. His eyes shone with admiration as he looked up at his guardian.

"That is sooo wizard," he grinned, then froze. "Oops? Is it okay if I talk now? I didn't mean to - it was an accident-"

Qui-Gon smiled warmly, then ruffled the short-cut blond hair. "It's alright, Anakin. The training is over. And you were speaking to me."

"What did you threaten him with?" asked an amazed Obi-Wan. "I've never seen him so quiet!"

"I told him that if he uttered a word, the training would stop and he would be returned to the Temple. And he wouldn't be allowed to come with us any longer."

"Oh, that's cruel," Obi-Wan grinned. "And I thought it was something far more ordinary, like threatening to beat him or something."

Qui-Gon turned, startled. "I'm not in the habit of beating my apprentices. Something which you, of all people, should be aware of."

"A fact I am most grateful for, Master, having deserved it on more than one occasion," replied Obi-Wan smoothly.

"Never," the older man replied with a smile as they turned to head back to the Temple. "You were an outstanding apprentice then, as you are good friend now."

He shrugged into his black cloak, then raised the hood as Obi-Wan did the same. Together they turned and, once again the silent, enigmatic Jedi, they moved through the hangers-on in the audience who were so reluctant to leave before "their Jedi" left, for so they referred to Jedi Kenobi and Master Qui-Gon Jinn. They parted respectfully, clearing a path for the Jedi and the small boy who trailed in their wake.

It was an interesting change in a year seemed destined to be full of changes, Qui-Gon noted as they headed for home. So much had changed in so short a time, for all of them. Obi-Wan was a Jedi Knight working on his own for the Republic. Anakin was no longer a slave and was to be a Jedi -- should he survive his training with me, Qui-Gon thought ruefully. Should I survive his training.

And I survived the fight with the Sith. That is the most amazing fact of all. I am still who I was, I think. A little older, a little more wary, but perhaps even stronger. I've gained so much from all of this.

With Obi-Wan at his side and Anakin running ahead, Qui-Gon nodded to yet another woman whose warm smile spoke of acceptance and welcome as he stepped out of the park and onto the busy thoroughfare of Coruscant.

~The End~