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Night and silence had fallen on the Jedi Temple. Though it glowed like a beacon, casting shadows on the ships buzzing by, the highest tower was dimmed.
Mace Windu and Yoda were standing in front of one of the windows. Yoda leaned on his gimer stick, eyes almost closed as he watched a Mullivak transport pass by the window. Windu, his hands clasped behind his back, glanced down at the small green Jedi.
"We need a new master for young Obi-Wan," Windu said softly.
"Hmm," Yoda replied, not opening his eyes.
Windu frowned at the lack of answer. "I was thinking that Risoin might be a good master for him."
Yoda's sea-green eyes flew open, and he stared warily up at the younger Jedi Master. "Risoin?" he rasped. "Reckless is he... difficult and fiery."
"They can both use some tempering," Windu admitted, resting a long, broad hand on the window and staring out at the spangled cityscape. "Risoin would be well-affected by the responsibility of a padawan, and Obi-Wan needs something to... occupy his mind."
Yoda peered out at the twinkling lights, and frowned. "Right you are, perhaps... yes." He rapped his cane on the floor, giving emphasis to his next words. The grating voice took on a faint note of approval. "Master and padawan they will be."
Windu smiled a little, nodded, and quickly glided out of the room, leaving Yoda alone. The old Jedi sighed, his small green frame seeming to wilt, and leaned against the window.
The couch smelled of dust and worn cloth, pressing against Obi-Wan's reddened face. He tried to repress a tear that sprang unbidden to his eyes, huddling deeper into the old broken-down sofa.
Qui-Gon hadn't even said goodbye. Just packed and gone, without a word to anyone. No one had even seen him leave, slipping out light like a shadow in the sunlight. He could have at least said goodbye to me. Or... would it have hurt too much?
He sighed and burrowed deeper into the couch, wishing that he could stay there forever. But as he heard the doors swish open, he knew that his new master, Risoin, had arrived.
"What are you doing?" A harsher voice, irritated.
Obi-Wan grimaced and sat up, sighing at the coldness of the air around him. He stared up stoically at the tall man facing him. Risoin was young, only a few years older than Obi-Wan himself, and his straight, almost white hair was evidently growing out of a padawan cut. His tanned face was handsome in a rough way, but was twisted slightly by distaste. Green eyes bored into Obi-Wan's, and he made a small noise of disgust.
"So, this is the padawan the Council's assigned me," he said, crossing his arms over a narrow chest. "Wonderful."
Obi-Wan bit down on his tongue to repress the rebellious words that sprang to his lips. "I'm equally happy to see you," he replied coolly.
Risoin's face flushed a little, but he simply glared at the boy. "Listen carefully, Padawan. I have neither the patience nor the inclination to babysit a rebellious apprentice. I imagine your former Master Jinn taught you plenty. Forget it all."
It took every ounce of self-control that Obi-Wan posessed not to pick up the lamp on the table and fling it at Risoin. How dare he demand that of Obi-Wan? I may have to accompany him on missions, I may have to obey him, but I will never, ever address him as "Master"!
Risoin evidently caught the tiny twitch in Obi-Wan's stony face, and he frowned again. "We leave for Aladell in two hours," he said brusquely, turning and sweeping out of the suite with a flare of his cloak. "Be packed by then."
As the doors swished shut, Obi-Wan sagged against the wall, shaking a little.
The world of Aladell, a cultured little planet near the Rim. From space, it looked like a ball of pure gold, the harsh desert sands gleaming in the bright light of the sun, Eridi 47. Tiny white dots like a pattern of lace covered some of it, near the single blue splotch of ocean.
Qui-Gon felt his tense, aching muscles begin to relax just looking at it. The slightest hint of a sad smile touched his lips as he closed his eyes, hearing the soft hum of the engines decelerating for a planetary landing.
The hatch slowly began to lower, and Qui-Gon distantly heard many footsteps shuffling past him toward it. He slipped a hand into his pocket, drew out a small platinum medallion with a single, deep green stone inlaid in it.
"Pilot?" he said quietly, rising from his seat and walking to the cockpit.
The cranky-looking Aladell glared back at him. "Yes?" he snapped.
Qui-Gon simply held up the medallion between thumb and forefinger. The Aladell's tanned face blanched at the sight of it, and he quickly went back to his controls. The engines whined in protest as the transport lifted off the docking pad.
Qui-Gon leaned against the doorway, as the rounded domes and blocky towers of the Aladell city spun by them, whiteness gleamng in the sun. He smiled a little at the tiny figures of the inhabitants, going through their daily routines and jobs.
And he saw another building in the distance, an oasis in the miles of sweeping sand and rising dunes, dotted by dark obsidian spikes. He saw a lovely palace, gleaming silvery white in the noon sun, ringed by green trees and grasses, behind a huge wall.
As the shuttle settled down on a large landing pad, Qui-Gon stepped back and picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder. The door before him fell away, and he found himself facing a pair of young aides, man and woman, not much older than Obi-Wan. Both wore the gray uniforms of Aladell government officers, both were dark haired and dark eyed.
The girl bowed slightly. "Welcome, Master Jinn," she lilted in an odd accent. "Please follow us. The Sovereign is waiting for you."
Qui-Gon nodded his agreement, and glanced around at the long, twining desert plants that had been subdued into garden use. And the knot within his heart began to loosen.