Work Text:
"AFTER THE RACE"
Imagined lost scenes from "The Phantom Menance"
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
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It was still busy in the market place on Tatooine. Obi Wan was thoughtful as he followed Qui-Gon Jinn, automatically keeping pace with the long strides of his Jedi Master. Without turning or slowing down Qui-Gon spoke. "You are very quiet, Obi Wan. Is something wrong?"
Obi Wan had a thoughtful frown on his face. "I was thinking, Master."
They carried on in silence until Qui-Gon stopped in the shade of an adobe building. He looked at his pupil and waited. Obi Wan felt a slight discomfort. He did not want to offend or enrage his Master. His reluctance to speak made Qui-Gon prompt him. "You have something on your mind." It was not a question but a statement.
Obi Wan nodded but waited as a couple of people passed before speaking. "I was wondering, Master, about the boy."
"Anakin? What of him?"
Obi Wan looked decidedly uncomfortable now as if knowing he was stepping on ground that might not support his weight. "The boy is free and that is good, Master, but his mother. She is still a slave."
Qui-Gon crossed his arms and put his hands in the sleeves. He did not seem troubled by Obi Wan's query. "Yes, she is." He responded in a neutral voice. It told Obi Wan nothing.
"I mean no disrespect, Master, but I am surprised we did not try harder to persuade Wattoo to free her."
"I am sorry about Shmi, but she is not our concern."
Obi Wan could not hide his surprise. "But Master, she is an innocent!"
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows. "Is she?"
Obi Wan looked confused. Had he missed something?
"Beware of ascribing guilt or innocence, Padawan. In the absence of knowledge they will lead you astray."
"I do not understand, Master."
Qui-Gon nodded sagely. "That is why you should not judge."
Obi Wan felt the sun's angle change and squinted in the harsh sunlight, the building no longer keeping them in shadow. He looked across the busy square that doubled as the market place and noted the wrecks of various colourful pod racers being repaired or dismantled for sale as scrap. He had to admit it had been a fast and furious race and the young Anakin had done well to win it. Better than he would have dared hope. As these thoughts went through his mind he spotted the object of his musings fiddling with a bright yellow machine. The boy looked so small and so vulnerable. "He is so young," he murmured.
"Three years younger than you were," said Qui-Gon.
Obi Wan tore his eyes away from the boy and looked at the Jedi Master. "What if he will not leave his mother?"
Qui-Gon gave a tiny shrug. "Then he is not ready."
Obi Wan said nothing. He could not believe that his Master would go to such lengths only to have the boy reject his offer. He looked again at the boy and saw that he had now been joined by a Gungan. Obi Wan sighed. He was too young. At that moment Anakin looked up and their eyes met. A strange spark kindled something in him, a connection of sorts but one that he could not analyse. Anakin looked away again and shared a joke with the Gungan then buried his head back into the guts of his ruined machine. Obi Wan frowned, not sure what it meant or whether it meant anything at all.
Qui-Gon gave him a small smile. "Cheer up, things may not be as bad as you think."
Obi Wan looked at him in surprise but said nothing.
"He may surprise you after all." Qui-Gon said softly.
Later, Obi Wan had cause to reflect bitterly on those words as he knelt grief-stricken at his Master's side. The very life ebbing out of him as Qui-Gon struggled to give his Padawan the very last instructions he would ever give him. Tears blinded Obi Wan's eyes and he could hardly hear the painfully whispered words for the sound of his own heart breaking. "Master!" He cried, in the hushed tones of anguish and horror. Even then, Qui-Gon managed a pained smile for him.
"It is too late, it's..."
Obi Wan could feel his Master slipping away from him. "Not!"
The eyes flickered, words wrought in pain hissed from between clenched teeth. "Obi Wan promise. Promise me that you'll train the boy."
Obi Wan, head bowed, could hardly see for tears. He would have promised Qui-Gon anything, just so long as he would not die. Just so long as he would not leave him. The pain in his heart contracted for he now knew with a certainty that he could not stop the inevitable. "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon tried to hold on a little longer, give some encouragement, some words of wisdom but he had so little time and there was so much Obi Wan needed to know. "He is the chosen one," he managed to barely whisper. The words more pain than sound. "He will...bring balance...Train him!" His words wrested from him by need, Qui-Gon sighed so gently that Obi Wan hardly heard his spirit leave him but he felt it. With every atom of his being. He knelt for a long time, unwilling to leave his Master, unable to face the next step and wept for the man who had been more than a father to him.
********** T H E E N D **********