DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!"
It had begun as a verbal exchange between the two seventeen year old boys, but quickly escalated to a shoving match.
Chir-ne was a Kutirian, about Obi-Wan's height, with a heavily built body. They hadn't been arguing about anything of great consequence - their fight sprung more from adolescent hormones than anything else.
Chir-ne's hand went to his lightsabre hilt, but he did not activate the blade. Both boys stood back, panting. They were in the dining hall during second lunch - the one reserved for young people. Second lunch usually involved a great deal of teasing and horse-play, but a real altercation of any kind was rare. Obi-Wan's friend Bant watched the proceeding fearfully. She'd tried to stop him, but he'd shrugged off her restraining hand. The boys regarded each other warily.
"Obi-Wan, please," Bant begged. "Just leave it alone. Sit down."
She might as well have saved her breath. Obi-Wan was totally focused on the boy in front of him.
"Go ahead," he taunted. "Go ahead and draw. If you draw first, then it'll be your fault."
Chir-ne's eyes narrowed. "Sure, Kenobi," he snarled. He made as if to return the hilt to his belt. "Whatever you say!" With that, he activated the blade and lunged forward.
Obi-Wan felt it coming and had his blade up and activated a split-second before Chir-ne's blade met his with a hiss.
The frightened gasps of the other children registered vaguely on Obi-Wan's brain. He was so focused on his opponent that he did not sense his Master's approach. He and Chir-ne suddenly found themselves sitting on the ground, knocked down by the power of Qui-Gon's mind.
Obi-Wan winced. His bottom hurt. Qui-Gon had not been gentle when he'd tossed the boys to the ground.
"What in the name of all that's holy do you think you're doing?"
/Oh, Sith/
Without thinking, Obi-Wan said the first thing that came to his mind: "He started it."
Qui-Gon swallowed hard. How many times had he heard Xanatos say that? The Jedi Master took a deep breath.
"Give me your blades. Both of you."
The two now-terrified Padawans handed over their hilts.
Qui-Gon fitted both of the hilts into his large palm. He looked at them with something akin to sadness.
"You dishonored your blades today by drawing them in our sacred Temple. Padawans, we are Guardians of the Peace. We do not brawl around children."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, blushing.
"Yes, Master Jinn," Chir-ne echoed, his face a picture of mortification.
"You will not dishonor these blades again," Qui-Gon said. He held them out in front of himself, letting go with his hand, but holding them steady with the Force. Obi-Wan and Chir-ne both reached for their blades.
"No, leave them," Qui-Gon said sternly. Both boys looked at him questioningly. The Jedi Master drew his own blade, igniting the green glow. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, seeking patience. When he opened his eyes, he brought his own blade down swiftly, cutting through the hilts of both lightsabres simultaneously.
Obi-Wan stared in shock. Had his Master really just severed his lightsabre? Or was this some horrible nightmare from which he would soon awaken?
Qui-Gon did not look at his Apprentice. He was too angry to deal with him at the moment. Instead, he turned, his cloak swirling about him. "Come, Padawan."
Obi-Wan retrieved the still-smoking halves of his lightsabre, trying not to burn himself in the process. The other young people in the dining hall stared after him, some in shock, some in sympathy.
Qui-Gon strode firmly down the hall, refusing to shorten his stride to accommodate for his Padawan's shorter legs. Obi-Wan trailed after his Master, nearly having to jog to keep up.
Reaching their quarters, Qui-Gon keyed in the code and the door swished open. Obi-Wan scooted through the portal, closing it behind him.
"Master, I-"
"No, Obi-Wan. I don't want to hear it. I'm not calm enough to deal with you at present. I will meditate on this unfortunate turn of events and we will speak later. In the mean time, I think you could benefit from some solitary reflection in your quarters."
Obi-Wan winced. He hated it when Qui-Gon sent him to his room. It usually meant the Master had more time to think up something creatively evil to punish him with. He nodded to the older man, however, and entered his room.
Obi-Wan threw himself down on his sleep-couch. He couldn't believe this. Yes, he supposed he'd provoked Chir-ne, but the other boy had drawn his blade first. Obi-Wan rationalized his behavior as self-defense.
Qui-Gon paced the living room. He'd tried meditating, but found himself consumed by an unusual amount of impatience. Perhaps he needed to go down to the practice rooms and run through a few drills.
Qui-Gon wasn't sure if he should believe Obi-Wan about the fight being the other boy's fault. He'd heard his previous Apprentice say those words too many times - he'd indulged Xanatos. Should he indulge Obi-Wan the same way?
Obi-Wan sat dejectedly on his sleep couch, knees drawn up to his chest, staring mournfully out the small window. He looked up as his Master entered. Qui-Gon didn't look angry, Obi-Wan noticed with surprise. Instead he looked sad, which cut Obi-Wan to the quick.
"Come, Padawan," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan blinked. "Where are we going?"
"The Council chamber."
"Why?"
"I should hope that was fairly obvious, Padawan."
Obi-Wan winced. "Somehow I have a bad feeling about this."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "You assume correctly. But the Council is waiting for us - let's go."
"Waiting for us? Both of us?"
"Yes, both of us."
"Master, I don't understand."
Qui-Gon regarded his Padawan. "Apparently the Council feels that I have neglected to instill in you a proper respect for the rules."
Obi-Wan winced. It was one thing to get himself in trouble, but quite another to get his Master in trouble too.
"Master, I'm sorry."
"Yes, Padawan. I know."