Undoubtedly it was much warmer in this chau'baq Xanatos was luring him to. The thought of warmth and his padawan lured him down the hall and through the door. The room was indeed warmer, and held a pleasant scent Qui-Gon couldn't quite place. He followed the sound of quiet voices and a faint bubbling noise around a corner to find his padawan sitting in a large tub next to his father.
Xanatos turned as Qui-Gon approached the tub. "Master! I was beginning to think you were lost."
"I was admiring the statues in the hall. You have a lovely home, Crion."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I have had much time alone to travel and collect art over the years."
"Won't you join us, Master?" Xanatos held his braid in his hand, sliding it through the water surrounding him. "The water is very soothing; I hardly feel any of the aches from being in that pod now."
His apprentice stretched, leaving Qui-Gon fighting both the memories of the last time he'd shared a tub of hot water with the young man, and the sight of all that glistening wet skin. The bubbling of the water was, thankfully, keeping everything below it from view. If he'd been faced with the entire form of his padawan at once...well, he would do what he needed to do to ensure that they were not discovered, but it would have strained him.
As he dropped his robe and stepped into the tub, Qui-Gon noticed Xanatos was the picture of composure. His father sat next to him with no idea of what was going through the young man's head. But any Force user would have been slammed with the emotions rolling from him in waves.
Qui-Gon frowned at his padawan as he sat down opposite him, a warning to strengthen his shields. Emotions released into the Force with such intensity could have side effects on anyone around them. Xanatos' mouth tightened and his eyes darkened, but the emotions eased until they were barely noticeable.
Admiring the ability it took to close such strong feelings off so quickly, Qui-Gon sent his padawan a smile, but it was met with a cool gaze. Before Qui-Gon could wonder about that look, it was gone, replaced by a cheerful smile as Xanatos talked to his father.
With a mental shrug, Qui-Gon leaned back and closed his eyes, pushing his hair onto the shelf behind him as he sank down until the hot water covered his shoulders up to his neck. The bubbles in the water were created by jets of air that shot out of various spots in the side of the tub. He leaned against four of them, letting them massage all of the knots out of his back. Jets near the bottom of the tub worked out the pains in his legs. Within minutes he was more relaxed than he'd been since...since his time in the bathtub with Xanatos.
He pushed those thoughts aside, concentrating on the moment, the soothing heat of the water, the pounding of the jets at his aching muscles, the foot trailing its way up his leg--
Sith! Only years of training kept Qui-Gon from jumping out of the water. If he didn't know better he'd swear Xanatos was trying to kill him! One of his eyes cracked open enough to look at his apprentice, whose attention was totally focused on his father. At least it appeared that way. And yet, one of his feet was slowly making its way up Qui-Gon's calf, across his knee and down the length of his thigh. It stopped at the barrier of the shorts, then one toe dipped under the fabric and ran along the edge, pressing against the skin.
That touch of skin on skin sensitized by the swirling water raised goose bumps all over Qui-Gon's body. He nearly gasped when the foot disappeared, but it quickly reappeared, tracing the outline of his erection through his shorts. He did gasp then, mouth opening just far enough for water to sneak in, and he coughed. Both men turned to him, almost identical expressions of curiosity on their faces. "Are you all right, Master?" Xanatos asked, tone solicitous and polite, even as that foot grew bolder, massaging the swollen flesh beneath the fabric.
"Fine." Somehow Qui-Gon managed to keep his voice even as he sat there, being brought nearly to an orgasm by his padawan--right in front of the young man's thankfully oblivious father. Just when he thought he would no longer be able to stop himself, the foot retreated, drawing itself back down his leg and away.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, focusing his energies on dispersing his lust without causing an orgy nearby. He managed to get his need down to a bearable level, to where he did not have to concentrate on controlling his breathing when he felt it again.
This time Xanatos let his toenails lightly scrape up the side of Qui-Gon's leg, all the way to the edge of the fabric. The young man shifted, a natural movement in the midst of his conversation, but a move that in reality gave him more reach. His entire leg drifted over Qui-Gon's for a moment before the foot grazed his renewing erection.
The foot slid downward, below his shaft to caress the opening behind it through the fabric. Qui-Gon couldn't suppress a shiver at that feeling, and at the memories that assailed him.
He couldn't take anymore. With a deep breath, Qui-Gon stood, stalking over to the stairs and stepping out of the chau'baq. "I feel much better," he said as he busied himself pulling on his robe, neatly avoiding Crion's eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry to break up the reunion, but I need my Padawan for a few things. I'm sure you understand."
"Of course." Crion nodded to his son as the Xanatos rose and followed his master out of the room. Qui-Gon couldn't look at his padawan as he strode down the hall to his room, but he knew the young man was right behind him. He could feel him there, feel the heat pulsing between them.
Qui-Gon threw the door open, only to hear it slam shut just as quickly. His world spun, and he found himself shoved up against the door, the polished wood smooth against his cheek and his chest as his robe was yanked from his shoulders. His hair was shoved aside as teeth grazed at his neck, a wet braid slid along his back, and he heard a rip, followed by cool air on his hips. The shorts, he realized dazedly; Xanatos had ripped them off.
Then he lost coherent thought as one thumb made its way into his opening, working the muscle there easily. The thumb was replaced with a knuckle, the width of the bent finger stretching him further as he writhed against the door.
"Please..." Qui-Gon grated out, breathing hard as he thrust back onto those fingers, wanting more.
Xanatos stopped his assault on his master's neck long enough for two words. "Please what?"
"Inside me...you. Now!"
The young man laughed harshly, biting on Qui-Gon's neck. "It's not nice to demand," he murmured, lips moving against his master's skin. "But as it happens," he added, "I want to be in you."
He moved away long enough to remove his own shorts, and then he was inside his master in one quick thrust. Qui-Gon cried out, his hands sliding down the door to reach for his own erection, but Xanatos stopped him.
"Mine," the padawan grated out, still moving inside his master as he pinned both Qui-Gon's arms to the wall and held them there. Qui-Gon bit his lip as he was repeatedly pounded into the door, the sensation of his rock-hard erection sliding between the wood and his stomach just enough to leave him wanting more. Much more.
Over and over, the friction of the cool door and the heat of his own skin, the thickness sliding in and out of his body, the sensation of teeth, lips and tongue all over his shoulders and neck, and of hot, damp skin along the length of his back slowly drove him toward insanity. He tried to move his hands again, but Xanatos pushed them against the door even harder, keeping them there with a bruising grip. Finally Xanatos let go of his arms, reached down to his hips and pulled them away from the door leaving Qui-Gon to brace himself against the door or fall down. The Jedi Master howled as Xanatos thrust deeper into him at a new angle, stroking a place inside of him that set him on fire.
And then Xanatos' hands were on him, and that was the beginning of the end. He climaxed with such a force it shook him to the core, took him completely out of himself for what felt like forever, and at the same time not nearly long enough.
He was surprised to still be standing when it was over. His legs and arms held him up until Xanatos came inside him with a hoarse shout, his teeth sinking into Qui-Gon's shoulder. They both collapsed to the floor, Xanatos wrapped around his master, holding tightly as if he had no intention of ever letting go.
Eyes closed, savoring the moment, Qui-Gon felt lips moving against his neck. "Mine," his padawan breathed, tongue reaching out to slide along his nape.
"Yes," he responded softly, his arms tightening on the ones gripping his midsection. He could not deny that he was owned; to ignore the truth would be far too dangerous.
Lips moved on him again, tracing a lazy line down his shoulder before Xanatos stilled, nose pressed against his master's back, breathing deeply, drawing out the moment for as long as it could last.
***
Eventually, they separated, dressing for evening meal despite Xanatos' insistence that he'd really rather stay in the room. Privately, Qui-Gon agreed with him, but it wouldn't help matters to encourage his padawan to forsake duty for pleasure. He reminded the young man to calm himself inside and out, so that no outward signs of their deeper relationship would be detected--by Force users, or by Xanatos' father. The idea of explaining any of this to Crion was not high of Qui-Gon's list of things not to do.
As Qui-Gon pulled on his tunic, he realized that steeling himself not to show any signs of the last half hour was not going to be easy. The textured fabric grazed over the bruises and bites his padawan had left on his back and shoulders, a constant reminder that left him half-hard by the time he was finished getting dressed. He'd have to remember not to move much at the evening meal.
Owned. That thought slipped through his mind again. The marks of his ownership would be evident to anyone who saw him without his tunic. But he didn't need to see them. There were already much deeper marks on the inside.
"Master?" Xanatos stood at the door, the picture of calm. Qui-Gon felt the Force around his padawan, but could sense no trace of the young man's emotions.
"Let's go." As Qui-Gon brushed past him, Xanatos reached out, running a finger over a particularly sensitive mark on Qui-Gon's shoulder. The Jedi master barely suppressed a shiver, frowning at the young man, who grinned up at him.
The presence of a passing servant kept Qui-Gon from further action. He put the situation aside to deal with later. For now, he concentrated on controlling his own reactions and dealing with his duties.
***
Xanatos led the way to the dining hall, a cavernous room lined with holopaintings by some of the best artists in the galaxy. Qui-Gon recognized one gold-framed work that he had seen before, in the palace on D'vrai. Something about the way the shapes shifted had unsettled him then, and his reaction this time was no different.
Or perhaps it was just current circumstances that were unsettling.
Crion sat at the end of a table that could easily seat several dozen guests, beckoning the two Jedi to the chairs on either side of him. As he took his seat, Qui-Gon eyed the painting again. It had to have cost a small fortune. Telos seemed to be doing quite well financially--why would they need to renegotiate the terms of their contract with Nardir? He had no way of knowing, not until he visited the other planet and saw for himself what was going on in both places. He would have to make arrangements to visit Nardir soon.
A servant put a plate down in front of Qui-Gon and spread the Jedi Master's napkin across his lap. He picked up his spoon and tasted the soup before she could help him with that as well. "You have an excellent cook, Governor."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I became so accustomed to fine food wherever I traveled that I confess I had to search far and wide for a cook who could match that quality. But I found one, and I pay him well to ensure he does not leave."
"I can see why. This is excellent."
Crion tasted the soup himself and smiled. "I would have thought as Jedi you would eat like kings wherever you go," he said, more to his son than to Qui-Gon.
"Hardly," Xanatos answered. A rueful smile curled his lips. "We do well occasionally, but for the most part it's either space rations, or our hosts assume we are minimalists who care nothing for comfort or good food, and we get bland, tasteless drivel."
"Padawan...." At the subtle rebuke, Xanatos looked down at his soup and began eating with great concentration. "So, your travels," Qui-Gon continued, returning his attention to Crion. "Are you away on official business a great deal?"
"Sometimes official business. And sometimes pleasure. I'm alone here, and there isn't much to do, even in a house as well-appointed as this one."
They ate in silence for several moments, the clink of forks on plates and scrape of glasses on the table the only sound in the quiet surrounding them. As the main course was being served, Qui-Gon brought up the subject he was most interested in. "So, when are the negotiations scheduled to start?"
"In a week," Crion answered, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Unless they change their minds again. Four times they have moved the date."
"They are reluctant to negotiate?"
"They say the agreement is fair, and there is no need, but they will if they must. Still, they put it off. They are hoping to change my mind. They will not."
Qui-Gon looked around the room. "You seem to be doing well enough. Is the contract really that unprofitable?"
"It is not about profit. It is about fairness. The current contract was negotiated four generations ago. The scientists of Telos are giving up their vast knowledge for well below what it is worth, and as Governor, I won't allow it to continue."
Before Qui-Gon could respond, Xanatos stepped in. "Please. We just spent days cramped in an escape pod, we have a wonderful meal in front of us, and this is the first time I've seen my father in years. Couldn't we find something more pleasant to discuss?"
Crion turned a wide smile on his son. "Certainly. Business will wait. What would you like to talk about?"
As father and son talked about various things, Qui-Gon ate his meal in silence, listening for any sign that might tell him what made him uneasy about this situation. He would have to figure it out soon, he realized, with a worried look at his student. Faint stirrings of danger were whispering to him through the Force, and he had to know if they involved the negotiations, or something far more personal.
Or both.
***
Meditation brought Qui-Gon little comfort. After hours on his knees, he knew his unease centered on the budding relationship between Xanatos and his father. He'd had time to sift through the observations he'd made at dinner and paid close attention to the easy rapport between the two men. The family connection could account for that, and simple curiosity could be the only reason Xanatos was so fascinated by the stories of his ancestors, and even more enamored of stories of his father's wealth and travels.
So why did these things bother him so much?
For the twelfth time, Qui-Gon checked the windows in his room, looking for some sign of Xanatos. He wasn't in his room--Qui-Gon had checked several times. But he was fairly close, that much Qui-Gon could tell through their bond, he just didn't know where. And he wasn't about to go searching for his padawan like a befuddled master or a possessive lover.
The moon was full, lighting the courtyard and the gardens with a pale white light that gave an eerie quality to the landscape. There were flowers, trees, and shrubs, and beyond that a grove of trees, but no sign of his apprentice.
The younger man's actions at evening meal had left Qui-Gon with a choice. He could say nothing, and wait to see what developed, or he could attempt to divert Xanatos before he became too immersed in his father's world. His first instinct was to rein the young man in. Yoda should never have sent them on this mission; there was a reason Jedi barely knew their parents. The fact that Yoda sent them was the only thing to give him pause. Had this been what his own master had foreseen? Did the ancient Jedi realize what Xanatos would feel when he saw his father again? Had he foreseen Xanatos' desire for a father being more important than his dedication to the Jedi--and to his Master?
Jealousy surged through Qui-Gon, and he concentrated his efforts on it for a moment, sitting on the bed, cross-legged, feeding the emotion out into the Force. He had to make his decision with a clear mind, focus on what was best for his padawan. His own feelings could not affect his actions.
Right. And Yoda could have a sudden growth spurt tomorrow. It was nearly impossible for him to separate his own wants and desires from Xanatos' needs.
He knew his apprentice wanted him, but did the young man really need him? Xanatos was an adult, too old to need a father figure. And it wasn't as if he'd had any trouble finding sex before now, so, good as it was between the two of them, he didn't necessarily need his master for that. Crion could fill a place in Xanatos' life that Qui-Gon himself no longer occupied. He'd made that decision himself when he'd taken the young man into his bed--or rather his bath. But what about a father, one he'd never really known? Could Qui-Gon compete with that kind of blood tie?
So it was a competition now, was it? Qui-Gon stood and crossed to the window again, staring out at the moon. He did not need to compete with Crion. Xanatos needed no father; getting closer to his blood father would not stand in the way of his link with Qui-Gon. And yet in making a decision to get closer to his father, Xanatos would jeopardize so much. His relationship with Crion could not grow easily if Xanatos were traipsing around the galaxy doing the work of the Jedi--they would never see each other. Which would mean....
Qui-Gon closed his mind to that idea. No need to think that far ahead into improbable situations over the young man's simple curiosity about his family. Xanatos had worked his whole life to become a Jedi; he would not risk that on a whim.
The door opened, and the subject of his musing walked in. "Master! I thought you would be asleep by now."
One eyebrow cocked up. "And were you planning to wake me?"
"Well," the young man said silkily, shedding his cloak as he crossed to the window, "the thought had crossed my mind."
Xanatos leaned in for a kiss, which Qui-Gon gave before withdrawing reluctantly. He hated sounding like an inquisitor, but he felt the need to ask, "Where have you been?"
"With my father. He wanted to show me the stables after evening meal, and then we came back to his rooms and talked." Xanatos slipped out of his master's arms and began shedding clothing on the way to the bathroom. "He told me about my mother, and about Telos, family history...things I'd never known."
Qui-Gon followed. "And you were talking with him about family all this time?"
"Of course." Xanatos' face disappeared behind a tunic as it was raised over his head and then tossed to the ground. "You didn't think I was off having my way with someone else, did you?" He grinned as he took the few steps that brought him right up to his master, arms reaching out before he was quite there to draw Qui-Gon into an embrace. Another kiss, this one more serious. "I have what I want," he murmured, voice husky, before his lips sought his master's again. "Care to join me in the shower?"
"I shouldn't."
Xanatos stepped out of his leggings and tossed them across the bathroom with his foot, leaving Qui-Gon to stare at the expanse of pale skin, and the half-erect shaft in the center of it all. "You should," he said, stepping closer.
Qui-Gon backed away, reaching down to pick up his student's fallen clothing. "You've made a mess."
"Leave it," Xanatos said with a dismissive wave. "The servants will get it tomorrow."
"You're getting used to that rather quickly."
The young man shrugged, taking the tunic from his master. "If they're there, might as well make use of them. Otherwise they could be out of a job. And that would benefit no one."
"Don't get too used to them. We'll be gone soon enough, and it'll be back to space rations and cleaning up for ourselves."
"But not tonight," Xanatos said softly, tossing the tunic onto a nearby stool and running his fingers lightly down Qui-Gon's chest. "Tonight, we have a nice room, a comfortable bed, and a large shower with real hot water. Why waste it?"
Hands went around his side, as Xanatos stepped closer to run his hands up his master's back. Their erections touched briefly, eliciting a gasp from Qui-Gon, who crumbled under the assault of his own senses. He leaned down to lick his padawan's lips, tracing the entire mouth with his tongue, which snaked through the young man's lips into his mouth, finding its mate, chasing it around briefly before Xanatos stepped back. His fingers slid along his master's arm; he caught Qui-Gon's hand and pulled him backwards to the shower stall.
The shower took a moment to warm, but Qui-Gon didn't notice as he kissed his padawan with increasing passion. He ran his hands down the young man's back, lingering over the firm mounds below his hips before his hands traveled back up to twist into the soft, black hair. He used his hold to guide Xanatos back under the spray of water.
Qui-Gon ran his fingertips over his student's neck, his hand catching in the braid that he impatiently tossed aside on his way to his goal. His fingers stroked down the smooth chest, stopping to tease the nipples there into hard nubs. Desire surged through him at the sight of the young man's head tipped back under the water that ran over his face, plastered his hair back, emphasizing the fine, delicate bone structure covered in flawless skin. His face was like a statue, carved to perfection by a great artist.
Fascinated, Qui-Gon watched the rivulets run off the young man's cheeks. His tongue snaked out and interrupted the flow of water; he tasted minerals, and the essence of his lover. He followed the jaw line up to Xanatos' ear, tracing the outside before sucking on the lobe. A small bite, and then he kissed his way across his padawan's cheek down to his mouth. Their lips fused, blocking out the water, tongues meeting in a long, slow kiss.
Qui-Gon grappled for skin, trying to pull the young man closer. Finally, he turned them both around and drove his student against the wall, pressing Xanatos' body as close as he could. He reached down between them to find the young man's erection and stroked the length of it as he rubbed his own against Xanatos' thigh.
Hands grasped at Qui-Gon's back as Xanatos bucked against the firm pressure of Qui-Gon's body. Water pounded against his lower back as he released Xanatos' lips and fastened his mouth on the joint of neck and shoulder.
As Xanatos' fingertips dug into Qui-Gon's skin, a loud, hitching breath escaped the padawan's throat. He undulated his hips, causing his erection to slide hot and hard across his master's palm. Qui-Gon kissed his way down the younger man's chest, across his stomach, heedless of the water that poured into his hair as he knelt and fastened his lips over the head of his padawan's shaft. He took the tip in and swirled his tongue around the edges.
Xanatos whimpered when Qui-Gon released him, and again when Qui-Gon closed his lips around the straining erection once more. Qui-Gon slid his lips down to the wiry curls at the base of Xanatos' cock, then back until only the crown was encased in the wet heat of his mouth. His padawan gripped his head, urging him forward again, and Qui-Gon complied, taking him in and pulling back again and again, adding suction to the motion. Xanatos growled low in his throat, his hands almost painfully tight in his master's hair now, allowing no movement beyond the steady back and forth rhythm that was driving the younger man toward completion. He climaxed with a shout, thrusting deep into Qui-Gon's mouth and holding him in place until he was done.
Qui-Gon rose to give Xanatos a luxuriant kiss, so his padawan could taste his own essence on his master's tongue. Xanatos was heavy Qui-Gon's arms, sated from his own release, and easily turned in Qui-Gon's arms. He was pressed face first against the shower, his legs spread invitingly, water running down his back, into the crevice between his legs.
Force, but he was beautiful. Qui-Gon followed the path of the water with his tongue, pulling apart Xanatos' cheeks to lick at the water trapped there. At his padawan's sharp gasp, he licked again, and again, the soft moans he could hear above him as much of a rush as sex itself.
He tightened his grip on Xanatos' hips and slowly pushed his tongue into the small hole. Xanatos cried out, and his hips bucked back against Qui-Gon's mouth, pushing the tongue in further. Need urged Qui-Gon to move faster, so he rose and reached for the soap to lather his erection. He let himself revel in the sensation, but only briefly before he entered his padawan carefully until they were pressed flesh to flesh.
At the entry, Xanatos truly came alive, head turning, neck straining as he found his master's lips. He took one long kiss then drew his head away. He braced himself and thrust back, meeting Qui-Gon's hips with powerful force. Qui-Gon ran his hands across his padawan's chest, and touched his lips to Xanatos' shoulder. Exquisite pressure built inside him, filling his body until he thought he could no longer bear it. He came, holding Xanatos tight against the wall, release washing through him like a drug, leaving him a little intoxicated and already thinking about the next dose.
They stood there, locked together, for several moments, the only sound their ragged breathing and the patter of the shower against the wall. Finally Qui-Gon became aware that the water against his legs was turning cold, and he reluctantly pulled away from his padawan. He turned to stand under the spray, face tilted up as he let the liquid cascade down his body, cooling the last of the heat that was threatening to rise up again. He felt Xanatos' hands, on him, sliding slickly down his back and realized the young man was washing him. He leaned back against his apprentice, giving the young man access to his chest, but when Xanatos would have ventured further, Qui-Gon stopped him.
"We need sleep," he murmured, turning to face his padawan, giving him a soft kiss before maneuvering him under the water. Xanatos stood under the spray, eyes locked with his master's as Qui-Gon washed him. When he was done, they stepped out of the shower and dried off, tumbling into the bed soon after.
They moved around a little, adjusting their position until Xanatos' head lay on his master's chest, and settled down to sleep. Or so Qui-Gon thought.
"Master, how do we proceed with the negotiations only a week away?"
Qui-Gon shifted, enjoying the scrape of Xanatos' cheek against his skin. "We leave for Nardir in the morning, to get a feel for their side, then come back in a day or two to await the first meeting."
"Might I...is it possible for me to stay here while you go to Nardir?"
"Stay here? Why?"
"I could monitor things from this end, get an idea for what the people of Telos think of this negotiation. And, I must confess," he looked up, dark eyes turned pure black in the faint moonlight from the window, "I would like a few days to get to know my father. I may never have this chance again."
For a long moment, Qui-Gon stared down at his padawan, his instincts at war. If Xanatos became too attached, he could decide to forsake his trials and remain on Telos. But the decision was his to make, not Qui-Gon's. And the desire to put him on the next transport off the planet was ridiculous. Yoda wanted Xanatos to make his own choice. So Qui-Gon would have to let him. "You may stay. Just keep in contact with me, and let me know anything you find that might be a problem."
"Thank you." Xanatos reached up to kiss him once on the lips, then snuggled back into his side and quickly fell asleep.
As Qui-Gon lay there in the bed, listening to Xanatos' slow, even breaths, he remembered sleepily that he had planned to talk to the young man about his attitude. Ah, well, it could wait. No use in waking him up for a conversation they could easily have when Qui-Gon got back from Nardir.
Decision made, he pulled Xanatos closer and fell asleep breathing in the scent of his padawan.
***
Qui-Gon left a sleeping Xanatos with a kiss early the next morning. He wandered the streets of Thani, observing the early morning crowds as they rushed off to work. According to the information supplied by the Council, eighty percent of the population worked in some kind of professional capacity--a curiously large number for any society. Any necessary manual labor, such as serving the Governor or waiting on tables, was limited to service staff and paid considerably well--more than in many other places he'd visited. Most of the servants he'd seen so far had been off-worlders.
Why would the people of Telos need more money? The clothes they wore fit perfectly, and were made of fabrics he knew to be expensive. Most of them had flawless hair, well-kept bodies and faces, and the best material possessions available. The advertisements around the town were for shows and exhibits generally seen in places such as the more well to do areas of Coruscant. Even the street cleaners wore tailored uniforms. It was clear the citizens of Telos were benefiting from the current contract with Nardir.
He pondered that idea as he hired a small one-man craft to fly himself to Nardir. A borrowed ship flown by one of the Governor's pilots was not the best way to enter the planet opposing Telos--anything he said to the Nardirians would certainly be reported directly back to Crion. And after the little bit of Thani society he'd seen today, Qui-Gon wasn't sure he'd want his comments making their way back to Telos.
It was a relatively short trip from Thani to Sarta, the capital of Nardir. Qui-Gon docked his ship and made his way through the streets of the city, noting the differences between the midday crowds of Sarta and the citizens he'd observed that morning in Thani. The Nardirians were mostly working class people who supplied the labor, materials and factories to carry out the designs and ideas of the Telosians. A profitable relationship for both worlds, though the contract had been thought to favor the Telosians, a fact which made Crion's decision to renegotiate that much more surprising.
Now that he could see with his own eyes just how much the contract favored Telos, Qui-Gon wondered anew why Crion would think it needed to be changed. He must be making a fortune himself with the current situation. And it wasn't very likely the Governor was planning to call for a contract that was more fair to the Nardirians.
Qui-Gon looked around at the low buildings lining the main street. A variety of businesses had signs hanging over the doors or painted into windows, advertising goods, services, and more than a few eating establishments. No one was expecting him, so he had time to wander and eat before seeking out the official government representatives. He chose a busy little cafe for his midday meal.
Pleasant smells and loud conversations greeted him as he walked in. There were booths off to one side, all full, and a few tables spaced inches apart from one another. A long counter ran along the window. Qui-Gon took one of the few empty seats at the counter and listened to the conversations around him while he waited. Most of them revolved around families and work; he wondered if he would hear similar discussions in restaurants in Thani.
A server handed him a menu and hurried on her way to wait on others. He quickly made a selection and went back to eavesdropping until she arrived to take his order. While he waited for his food, the crowd began to thin out as people returned to work. By the time his food arrived, the restaurant was half-empty, and the server was moving much slower than before.
"Can I get you anything else?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "This is fine, thank you." He looked around as another group headed for the door. "Does this place always clear out so fast?"
The server shrugged. "Midday meal is over. They all have to get back on time so they get all their hours in. Some of them barely make enough to get by as it is. Don't know what they'll do if those galactic bullies on the other planet end up taking even more money."
"Are you referring to the renegotiation of the contract between Telos and Nardir?"
"You call it renegotiation. I call it legal space pirating. But then you don't have to see these people come in here day after day and hear their problems."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "They don't make enough at the factories?"
"All I know is what I hear," the woman said hesitantly. "Beyond that, I really couldn't say."
Apparently she had decided she'd said too much. Or maybe she'd noticed the clothes and realized he was a Jedi. Qui-Gon let her off the hook as he tasted the food and smiled encouragingly. "This is very good."
"Thanks, I'll tell the cook. Let me know if you need anything else," she replied before hurrying off again.
The food was delicious, and Qui-Gon made quick work of it. After he paid, he wandered a little further down the street, but there was so little activity he didn't think he would learn much more out there. He decided to make a quick com call back to Xanatos before heading to the government complex. There was a booth on the next corner designed to allow com calls in relative privacy from the street, so he stepped inside and pulled out his comlink.
"Yes, Master?" Xanatos answered quickly, his voice husky across the comm.
"What have you been up to, Padawan?"
"Sleeping, Master. Apparently I was very tired after last night."
Qui-Gon smiled. "I wonder why."
"You left without waking me," Xanatos pouted.
"You were sleeping so soundly I couldn't bring myself to wake you. I'll be back soon enough."
"When?"
"I'm not sure. Possibly tonight. I'll let you know after I've spoken with the local representatives."
"Fine, but if you're not back, I'm going to sleep in your bed."
At that, Qui-Gon laughed. "What's wrong with yours?"
"It doesn't smell like you."
"And mine does, even after the servants have been in to clean?"
"Yes."
He laughed again. "Very well, then. If I'm not back, you may sleep in there."
"Come back anyway."
"We'll see. I must go. Behave yourself until I return."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon put the comlink away, still smiling as he pushed open the doors to the booth, welcoming the rush of air. The silence was helpful when talking on a comlink, but the glass booth was rather warm with the sun beating down on it.
He made his way to the government complex slowly, wandering through a park, enjoying the sounds of birds, the chatter of the people taking a day off, and even the occasional hum of a hovercraft as it sped toward a parking lot. He looked closely at the area around him. The trees and grass were much more natural in this park. In Thani, the parks were cultivated, carefully planned and trimmed to perfection; in Sarta grass grew seemingly at random, and the trees and bushes in the parks were round and full. Various and assorted forms of wildlife dashed around from one hiding place to another, sometimes stopping long enough to pick up a gift of food from one of the citizens having a late midday meal in the park.
The government complex was just on the other side of the park. It was the most impressive building Qui-Gon had seen in the city, yet it still managed to blend with the natural surroundings. He could see no intentional design for the area--everything seemed to be placed in some sort of haphazard manner, and yet it worked better than the designed city of Thani. And the Living Force was stronger here than it had been anywhere he'd visited on Telos.
He walked into the building, surprised at the lack of security. One lone guard sat at a desk just inside the main doors. She didn't bother to look up from her reader as Qui-Gon approached. "Can I help you?"
"I'm here to meet with the Governor."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Not a specific one; however, he will see me."
At that she finally looked up, saw his clothes, and realized he was a Jedi. "Oh, the Governor's offices are down the hall and to the left," she said, straightening her uniform. "The suite at the end."
"Thank you," he replied with a brief nod. He found the offices, hesitating for the briefest of moments to focus on the task ahead before entering the door.
A petite humanoid woman sat behind the desk, staring intently at a computer terminal. When the door clicked shut, she looked up. "Hello. How can I help you?"
"I am Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I'm here to see Governor Tashi."
"Oh, of course, Master Jinn. If you'd like to have a seat I'm sure the Governor will be out very soon." She pushed a button on a com unit and spoke quietly into a hand-held receiver, then turned back to Qui-Gon. "Is there anything I can get you while you wait?"
"No, thank you."
She nodded and went back to work at her terminal, the quiet click of the keys the only sound for several moments. Finally, a dark-haired man rushed into the reception from the back of the suite. "Master Jinn. I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Governor Tashi."
"I have only been here a short time, and I was not expected. It's good of you to see me on short notice."
"It is good of you to come." The Governor peered up at Qui-Gon. "If you'll follow me, we can talk in my office."
Qui-Gon followed the smaller man through a maze of hallways to a spacious office in the back of the suite. Once inside, the Governor closed the door and waved a hand at a seat in front of his desk. "Please, sit."
"Thank you." Qui-Gon took the seat and waited to see how Tashi would begin.
"So, you're here about the negotiations?" The governor leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, then, you can tell me why Telos wishes to renegotiate the contract?"
The Jedi master shook his head. "I don't know, Governor. I am only an impartial observer, here to get the Nardirian side of the negotiation so that I have all the facts to help facilitate your negotiations."
"Which is the Jedi way of saying, 'I'm not going to tell you anything I've figured out.' Very well. My people were desperate when they signed the original contract with Telos. We had a planet rich in materials, but no way to convert those materials into goods we needed to survive. They agreed to the stipulation that only Telos could open renegotiations because they had to." He spread his hands out, palms up. "From my point of view, this could be a beneficial event."
"Some of your people seem to think differently."
The Governor sighed. "The people are convinced Telos would only open negotiations if it were to end up more profitable for Telos in the end. They are tired of working for years and having little to show for it, and now they think there will be even less when this contract is changed."
"But you don't share their views?"
"I am counting on the Jedi to ensure a fair arrangement."
Qui-Gon acknowledged the man's trust with a nod. "Thank you. But there is only so much we can do. We are merely facilitators."
"We?"
"My apprentice is back on Telos. He will also be attending the negotiations." Qui-Gon thought it best not to bring up the real reasons for Xanatos staying behind. Best not to let these people know the young man was a Telosian, much less the son of the governor. "We thought we could work more efficiently gathering information separately for a day."
"Only a day? But surely you will stay for evening meal. And you must accept the hospitality of our governor's quarters for the night. The guest rooms are quite nice, even for a place that must seem like the back end of nowhere after being on Telos."
After a moment's hesitation, Qui-Gon nodded his acquiescence. Duty before personal desires. He had to remember that. It was only one night.
***
"I'm coming over there."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Padawan. You will stay where you are--out of sight of the Nardirians until the negotiations. There's less chance for them to realize you're Telosian before the meetings start if you are not seen until then."
"Then come home." The easy way Xanatos referred to Thani as "home" only served to make Qui-Gon more anxious to get back there. His apprentice needed reminders of who he was and whose agenda he served. Perhaps they could go to Dagobah before returning to Coruscant. Nowhere was the Living Force more prevalent than his own master's home world, and it offered few distractions. Qui-Gon would have to talk to Yoda about the side visit before he and Xanatos left Telos.
"I cannot. The Nardirians would never trust me if I spent less than a day here and spent a week on Telos. It's suspicious enough that you are not here with me."
"Then I will come there."
"No. Stay where you are. It's only for one night, Xanatos. One night, and then I'll be back."
A long silence stretched across the space between them, so long Qui-Gon wondered if his comlink was malfunctioning. "All right," Xanatos answered finally. "But I don't like it."
"Nor do I," Qui-Gon agreed. "I must go--there's an official function I have to attend. I will contact you again later."
"Promise?"
"Promise." With that, he clicked off the com and stuffed it into one of the pockets of his robe before hurrying off to find the grand dining room.
***
After the rich, heavy food at the Governor's quarters, the Nardirian fare was a welcome change. Qui-Gon savored the tangy fish, concentrating on the taste to keep himself in the moment, and his thoughts from straying to his apprentice.
"So, you're the great Jedi come to save Nardir."
Qui-Gon turned to the councilman seated to his left. "Excuse me?"
The man waved a hand toward the head of the table. "Governor Tashi has told us all about how the Jedi would ensure the results of the negotiations would be in our favor."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon studied the man, wondering what kind of game he was playing. "And how am I to do that, Councilman Yo?"
"By forcing the Telosian government to adhere to the fairness that all self-respecting governments in the Republic strive for, thereby causing them to adjust the contract so that Nardir gets its fair share of the profit from our association," Yo recited. "Or so Tashi says."
"I'm afraid I am only here as a facilitator, Councilman. I cannot force anyone to do anything."
Yo snorted. "I suspected as much. Ever since Tashi cast off his bonded mate and took another into his home, he has touted this negotiation as his glory day, hoping to distract the public from his shame with thoughts of money."
"His shame?" The report given to him by the Jedi Council had mentioned the Governor of Nardir had recently dissolved a bond and then bonded with another, but no mention had been made of anything shameful. "There was a scandal?"
"Of course! One does not dissolve a bond. And to do so publicly, while leading the people...such a thing is unheard of on this planet. Nardirians mate for life, Jedi--did your preparation for this negotiation fail to mention that?"
It had, but Qui-Gon refrained from admitting it outright. "Most species mate for life, but even so a disolvement is not always such an unusual event."
"Perhaps elsewhere that is true. But here we take our bonds very seriously. I would never do such a thing to my wife, nor would any self-respecting Nardirian." Yo looked at Tashi again and laughed harshly. "The promise of a better contract now that he requested the Jedi is the only reason Tashi is still in his office." He studied his plate for a moment before casting a sidelong glance at Qui-Gon. "There are those who never believed him in the first place. His failure with these negotiations could be cause enough to remove him. By force, if necessary."
Qui-Gon acknowledged that statement with a brief nod before turning to the dessert that had just been placed in front of him. So the outcome of these negotiations could be the catalyst for a civil war on Nardir. Wonderful.
Certainly no pressure for everything to go perfectly.
***
After a fitful night's sleep and meetings with several government members the following morning, Qui-Gon found himself in his rented ship on his way back to Telos. As he walked back to the Governor's quarters, he was struck again by the perfect falseness of his surroundings. The contrast to Nardir was even more obvious after being surrounded by the natural beauty on Sarta.
A young man sitting at the bottom of the steps to the Governor's quarters reminded Qui-Gon of Xanatos and the resemblance speeded his step. As Qui-Gon drew closer, the young man looked up, saw him and stood. With a start, Qui-Gon realized it *was* Xanatos, dressed in a deep blue jacket and pants. White cuffs and a small white collar peeked out from the edges of the dark material, a color of blue that nearly matched the eyes that lit up as Qui-Gon stopped in front of him.
"Master!" Xanatos moved as if to embrace Qui-Gon, then stopped suddenly and bowed instead. "It is good to have you back."
"It is good to see you as well, Padawan." They turned as one, climbing the steps toward the main doors. "Though it has only been one day since I left."
Xanatos reached out, his fingers grazing his master's arm as he straightened his own sleeve. "A very long day."
"Yes, it was at that."
"So what was the situation on Nardir?"
"How do you mean?" Qui-Gon answered question with question, mindful of the openness of the hallway and who could be listening.
Xanatos clasped his hands behind his back. "Will the Nardirians be difficult during the negotiations?"
"I'm not sure what you mean by 'difficult,' Padawan. I imagine they will simply be looking out for their own interests, as will the Telosians."
"Ah, so we should plan for a nice, long stay while they argue, then?"
"We shall see." Qui-Gon responded as they reached his room. Xanatos followed him through the door and closed it behind them, waiting until the older man had put his bag down before spinning him around and trapping him against the bed. "I missed you, Master."
"And I you," Qui-Gon answered, allowing his student to lean in for one kiss before he turned toward the bed, pushing Xanatos back with his body. He felt the flash of anger and hurt shoot through his padawan.
"Is there a problem, Master?" Xanatos asked, his tone formal as he stepped back a few paces.
Qui-Gon finished unpacking the items in his travel bag and placing them on the bed beside it, each movement deliberate as he chose his words carefully. "You are out of uniform," he answered finally, turning to face his apprentice.
"My father bought these for me. We aren't on duty, so I thought--"
"We are on duty," Qui-Gon interrupted. "We're on a mission, and you are here to represent the Jedi, not the Governor of Telos. If you don't want to wear the Jedi uniform, you can always go home." Not that he really had any intention of sending Xanatos home, but the need to wear the Jedi uniform, to show their objectivity, should have been obvious to his apprentice.
Xanatos' eyes blazed with anger. "Home? This *is* my home!" The young man took a deep breath. "Or at least it was once."
Fear swelled inside Qui-Gon, the worries about Xanatos and his father returning in a rush. "You are too close to this situation," he said, voice tightly controlled. "Perhaps it would be best if you went back to Coruscant after all."
"Master, no!" Xanatos took the few steps forward that left him practically touching his master. "I wore the clothes because I thought they would please you. I'll be happy to change back into my robes." He reached out one hand, cupping Qui-Gon's cheek. "Just please don't send me away from you."
Qui-Gon searched the deep blue eyes, no longer certain when his apprentice was being completely honest--or entirely trusting of his own judgment in the matter. He found no signs of deception lurking in Xanatos' gaze.
Finally, Xanatos broke the silence. "You would send me away from you, separate us, over clothing?" The pleading in his voice was now combined with a fair amount of anger. "You would deprive us both of this?" He leaned in, licking at his master's lips for a moment before parting his mouth and delving inside, molding his lips to Qui-Gon's in a fierce kiss.
Qui-Gon shoved his travel bag and clothing out of the way, scrambling back onto the bed and dragging his padawan with him. Xanatos straddled his master's lap, his rear pressed against Qui-Gon's groin, and rocked slightly, drawing a growl from the older man, who grabbed his arms and pulled him down for another kiss.
Several moments later, Xanatos pulled back to remove his jacket and shirt. "I can stay, then?" he asked as he began removing Qui-Gon's tunics.
"You can stay," Qui-Gon agreed. "But I want you in Jedi robes from now on."
"Really, Master?" Xanatos replied with a grin. "I thought you wanted me wearing nothing right now."
The Jedi Master's eyes narrowed. "Xanatos...."
"Yes, Master," the young man answered dutifully, leaning down to tease one of Qui-Gon's nipples with his tongue. "Jedi robes. Understood." He bit down lightly, causing Qui-Gon to arch up and put more pressure on his suddenly hard shaft.
Qui-Gon rolled, turning Xanatos onto his back and pinning the young man beneath him. Maybe he should just keep him trapped like this until the negotiations. At least then he couldn't get into trouble. And no one needed to worry about what kind of clothes he was wearing.
Xanatos went to work on Qui-Gon's leggings, thoughts of clothing quickly forgotten as they stripped theirs away and put the outside world aside, lost in each other.
***
For the next few days, Qui-Gon kept a close eye on his padawan. Xanatos was on his best behavior--the model of a perfect padawan. Which only worried his master more.
At his best, Xanatos was never the perfect padawan. The perfect student as far as grades and learning, perhaps, but he was always a little too independent, a bit too amused by his own façade. Now...nothing. He acted the same, but the sense of amusement was gone. In public, he was almost detached. And in private he was more intense than ever. Qui-Gon had bruises that matched his padawan's fingers in several places from times in the past few days when the young man had held on to him as if he never intended to let go.
Teaching a padawan was not supposed to involve breaking his spirit, no matter what some of the masters at the Temple thought. It worried the Jedi Master that he might have broken his apprentice completely in the act of trying to keep him.
He looked back over his shoulder once more. Xanatos stood just behind him, face serene, dark blue eyes cool, surveying the hangar with detachment.
Qui-Gon checked the lists of arrivals. Still several minutes before the Nardirian contingent was due to arrive--enough time for a lesson. Perhaps it was time to shake his padawan up a bit. He concentrated on the previous night, building up a wave of lust inside himself, and then sent the emotion through their bond in a rush.
Xanatos' eyes widened, and his lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten them briefly. He threw a frustrated glance at his master before averting his eyes and exerting control over his feelings. A moment more, and he was the perfect padawan again--almost. A hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips, one that just barely reached his eyes.
With a smile of his own, Qui-Gon faced front to watch the Nardirian shuttle land. The situation was looking better already.
***
"It was a good start, wasn't it, Master?"
Qui-Gon paused in the middle of shedding his tunics. "What was?"
"Evening meal. My father and the Nardirians were getting along nicely. That bodes well for the negotiations, does it not?"
"Perhaps. We shall see how they get along when there is a contract on the table." Tunics and boots dealt with, Qui-Gon turned to Xanatos, who was sitting on the bed, still fully clothed. "You are wearing entirely too much clothing, my padawan."
The young man blinked out of his reverie and smiled up at his master. "Say that again."
"What?"
"'My padawan.'" He reached up and caressed Qui-Gon's cheek. "I love the way your voice sounds when you say that here, with no one else around."
Qui-Gon sat next to him and leaned in, mouth close to Xanatos' ear. "My padawan," he said softly. He delighted in the shiver that raced through the young man's body. "My padawan," he growled again, tongue reaching out to trace the shell of his apprentice's ear. When he reached the lobe, he stopped to nibble at it while hastily removing the layered tunics Xanatos wore.
"My master," the young man breathed as he pulled at his boots until they came off. Their lips met as each man fumbled with the other's leggings, tugging and shoving until they were both naked. Qui-Gon fell back onto the bed, legs still dangling over the side, pulling Xanatos along without breaking the kiss.
Xanatos' tongue dipped into his master's mouth, mapping the textures there before withdrawing slowly to wander down Qui-Gon's chin, along the strong column of his neck, nipping at the muscle that strained as Qui-Gon arched up against him.
Xanatos circled one brown nipple slowly before sucking on the tip until it was hard. Qui-Gon writhed in pleasure beneath him as the second nipple was given the same treatment. Sparing a second for a grin up at his master, Xanatos continued his trip down his master's stomach, across his navel, lowering himself to his knees on the floor to make his way through the patch of dark curls below.
Without warning he took the length of the older man's shaft completely in his mouth, cheeks hollowing with the pressure of the suction he employed. Qui-Gon arched up violently, as he grabbed his padawan's head and held it in place as he thrust into Xanatos' mouth, lost in intense pleasure.
He came quickly, pumping his hips into the talented mouth until he could no longer move. Qui-Gon lay there, gasping for breath, his relaxed legs offering no resistance as Xanatos pulled them onto his shoulders and slipped a finger inside him, stretching the muscle in preparation for his entry.
There was a grin on his padawan's face as he watched his master writhing and bucking beneath him. Qui-Gon fought off the haze of passion enough to ask, "Something amuses you?"
"Only that it is somewhat of a novelty to do this in a bed, my Master." He looked down at his feet on the floor and added, "Or at least mostly in a bed."
Qui-Gon smiled. "We shall have to try it again sometime."
"Yes. But for now...." Xanatos entered him in one quick thrust, hitting a spot that sent lightening-quick pleasure arcing through him, and he lost himself again to the feelings churning inside.
***
The moment Qui-Gon woke the next morning, he realized something was wrong. A quick check assured him that all inside the room was well. The door was closed, his lightsaber was on the table next to him, and his padawan was asleep in his arms. So what was the problem?
Then he heard the raised voices in the hallway. He sat up, rousing Xanatos as he moved away to concentrate on the voices. He knew the loudest one--Crion's voice was unmistakable. The others were not familiar enough that he could make them out from here, but they were coming from the direction of the Nardirians' rooms.
"Master?" Xanatos asked, voice husky with the remnants of sleep. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure." Qui-Gon climbed out of bed and pulled on his leggings and boots and reached for his robe, pulling it closed tightly to hide his bare chest. "But we'd better go check it out."
Xanatos followed his master's example and threw on his leggings and boots. He was still pulling on his robe as Qui-Gon opened the door. The Nardirians were only a few doors down from the rooms the Jedi had been given, easily visible as soon as Qui-Gon walked out of the room. Crion was standing with the three representatives from Nardir and a half-dressed woman that Qui-Gon recognized as one of the servers from the dining room.
All of them fell silent as the Jedi approached, except for the woman, who was sobbing quietly into the blanket she held around her shoulders. "What happened?" Qui-Gon asked.
Councilman Yo stared at the ground. The other two Nardirians glanced at each other before Councilman Trar, the senior of the two, answered, "It is a matter for Nardirian justice, Master Jinn. Nothing you need to concern yourself over; however, I fear we are going to have to postpone the negotiations a few more days."
"Postpone again?" Crion bellowed. "These negotiations have been postponed three times already. The contract ends in one week--if there is no agreement, Telos will find its materials elsewhere."
The fact that it was a rather empty threat apparently made no difference to Yo. "I doubt that Telos will be able to find a contract that benefits them as greatly as this one does already!"
"That is not the point. The negotiations must go on as planned. You cannot postpone them just because one of your representatives slept with someone!"
"If I may interrupt," Qui-Gon interjected quickly, using the Force behind his voice to ensure their silence. "We were brought here to facilitate a smooth negotiation. If someone would explain what happened it is possible we could salvage something out of this predicament."
Crion sighed as he turned to face the Jedi Master. "When Councilman Yo did not show up for an early meeting with his colleagues, they came to check on him and found him in bed with Merlena. That is all that happened."
Qui-Gon turned to Yo, who was still staring at the ground. "Councilman Yo, what happened?"
"I do not know. The young lady knocked on my door to give me a drink and turn down the bed, as she did for my fellow councilmen. I remember nothing beyond that until they woke me this morning and she was there...." He shook his head, unable or unwilling to say more.
"Now they want to go home because of what he did," Crion complained. "He did it on purpose, I swear it!"
Qui-Gon studied the accused councilman. He sensed the Nardirian's confusion. And his shame. If he had indeed slept with the woman, it hadn't been with an ulterior motive. "Surely you do not all need to go back to Nardir for this? Could Councilman Yo return to your planet while the rest of you remain to work on the negotiations?"
"We have been witnesses to a serious offense, Master Jinn; we must go back and give testimony. To sleep with a woman out of wedlock is bad enough; to sleep with one when already bonded is a crime." Trar moved to Yo's side. "Gather your belongings. We leave for Nardir at once."
After he watched Yo go into his room, Qui-Gon turned back to Trar. "What will happen to him?"
"He will return to Nardir to stand trial. If he is found guilty, he will be sentenced accordingly. And as witnesses, it is the duty of Natni and myself to return with him. Suitable replacements will be sent for the negotiations in a few days, when they have had time to fully prepare."
"Days? This is ridiculous." Crion turned to the Jedi. "Qui-Gon, tell them to stay."
"I have no authority over them, Governor. If they feel they must return, I cannot stop them."
For a moment, Crion looked as if he would argue, but he relented. "Fine. Go if you must."
Trar cleared his throat. "There is one other thing. We would like to take the girl with us. She has committed an offense--"
"No!" Crion answered quickly. "She is a Telosian citizen under my employ. If there is to be any kind of punishment, I will deal with it. But you will not take her. It is out of the question!"
"Very well," Trar answered reluctantly as Yo returned with his bag. "We will leave at once, and be in touch about our replacements."
They watched the Nardirians leave in silence. When they were completely out of sight, Crion turned to the shaking woman. "There will be no punishment. You will be demoted, however. You knew how important these negotiations were to our people, and yet your sense of duty failed you."
The woman stared at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper as she responded, "I am sorry, Governor."
"I know. Go on now. You'll report to the kitchens later this morning."
"Thank you sir." She bowed quickly and ran off toward the servants' quarters.
As Crion watched the woman go, Qui-Gon sensed an air of satisfaction about the man that was at odds with his proclaimed upset at the postponement of the negotiations. Before he could think on it further, Crion turned back to face him, taking in his appearance. Then he turned to his son, who had been standing silently beside Qui-Gon all along, and noticed his state of undress under his robes. His eyes flickered to the open doorway of the one room they'd both emerged from. Qui-Gon's room.
Qui-Gon watched with apprehension as understanding dawned on Crion's face. He fixed the Jedi Master with a furious stare then stalked off without a word, leaving Qui-Gon to wonder just what the man would do with the information. If he called the Council and asked for new negotiators because of his newfound knowledge, it could be the end of Xanatos' chance to be a Knight. Which would leave the young man here, on Telos, where Qui-Gon had no doubt Crion wanted him.
"Master?" Xanatos placed a hand on Qui-Gon's arm, pulling him toward the room. "We should finish getting dressed."
"Of course." They returned to the room in silence. As they were dressing, Qui-Gon decided to bring it out into the open. "He knows."
Xanatos didn't even pretend not to know what he meant. "Leave him to me. I can handle him."
"What do you mean, 'handle'?"
"He wants me to be happy. When he realizes that you and the Jedi are what make me happy, he will not stand in the way. You have nothing to fear from him."
Qui-Gon let it go at that for the time being. Any action would only serve to make them look guilty. But he resolved to be very careful. And very watchful.
***
For the rest of the day, Qui-Gon again kept a close eye on his padawan. He watched as Xanatos teased his father out of his bad mood at breakfast. He watched the young man joke with a few of the servants, listened as they called him "Young Master Xanatos" and he didn't correct them. Technically the title was still his due as the son of the Governor, but Xanatos' easy acceptance of it was troubling.
They sparred that afternoon. Xanatos gave it his full effort, drawing on the Force as easily as he breathed and making it difficult for his master to beat him, but Qui-Gon sensed it was more about winning the game than it was about using the Force for defense. There was a fierceness in Xanatos' fighting and an enjoyment in every little victory that was not appropriate for a Jedi.
As they finished sparring, one of the servants came in and informed them that Crion was about to deliver a message to the Telosian people in the holo room, if they cared to watch. Qui-Gon glanced questioningly at Xanatos.
"He said nothing to me this morning about an announcement," Xanatos said with a shrug.
Qui-Gon nodded to the servant, who led them both to a large office, with a desk and various adornments that seemed to serve only to make the person who sat there look important. Several holo recorders sat at the other end of the office, trained on the desk.
Crion joined them, giving Qui-Gon a cool look. "Master Jinn, it is good of you to be here. I am about to let my people know why the negotiations have stalled. They are anxiously awaiting the outcome of the negotiations, and I fear if I do not tell them something they will grow quite angry."
"Then perhaps you should tell them something that will ease their worries," Qui-Gon agreed.
"Yes. Please, have a seat." He gestured toward a row of chairs to one side, out of view of the holo recorders, but near the desk. "We begin in just a moment."
The two Jedi sat as Crion situated himself behind the desk, checking his appearance in a mirror and going over his notes one last time before he clicked a button on his desk. Bright lights flicked on from the camera area, and after a moment to adjust to the glare, the Governor hit another switch, and the holo recorders began to whir.
"My fellow Telosians, I bring you news that may be unsettling. The negotiations have again been stalled. The representatives sent by the government of Nardir encountered a problem this morning that forced them to return home. They promise to contact us in a few days with the names of replacement negotiators."
He paused for effect, schooling his features in a stern manner. "I assure you, the negotiations will go on in a few days. There is nothing to be concerned about. We will have the contract we deserve. Thank you."
The switches were turned off, and the room was once more silent and relatively dark after the harsh glare of the lights. "This will hopefully keep the people from any acts of aggression toward Nardirians who are on planet," Crion said as he made his way to the chairs.
"That was broadcast into every home?"
"Yes, and into the areas with public screens. The news programs will replay it as well." He frowned at Qui-Gon as if daring him to question anything. "My people are very well informed."
"I can imagine," Qui-Gon said dryly.
Crion turned toward the door. "It is time for the evening meal. Let us adjourn to the dining hall."
Xanatos followed immediately, leaving Qui-Gon to trail behind. This promised to be one of the most uncomfortable meals he'd ever been through--he was certainly in no hurry to get to it.
***
The evening meal was followed by a musical concert. Normally Qui-Gon loved music, but he found he could not concentrate. His mind was preoccupied with all that had happened. There was still something off about the Nardirian scandal from that morning.
He found it hard to believe that the man who so honestly scorned Governor Tashi for treating his bond so casually would suddenly find a serving girl so irresistible that he was willing to go against his own code, as well as his country's law. Perhaps the woman herself would have a few answers. He would have to track her down and see if she could be of some help. One way or another, he was determined to get to the heart of what had happened.
Xanatos leaned over to whisper, "Is something wrong, Master? Would you prefer to leave?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "I'm fine," he whispered back. "Let's stay and listen."
His apprentice said no more, but Qui-Gon noticed Xanatos was now watching him as much as Qui-Gon had been watching the young man all day. The Jedi Master released his anxiety into the Force and willed himself into a state of calm. After a few minutes, Xanatos relaxed and turned his attention back to the music, leaving Qui-Gon no choice but to do the same.
***
"Padawan...are you happy being a Jedi?"
Xanatos looked up from the chair, the boot he had just pulled off his foot dangling from his hand in mid-air. "Of course, Master. Why wouldn't I be?"
Qui-Gon sat down on the bed, the doubts he'd had during the day first in his mind. "I've watched you today, and you seem so much happier here than you have been in recent months. It made me wonder if you were questioning your decision to be a Jedi."
"I never decided to be a Jedi; I have simply always been one. It is who I am," he replied, removing the other boot and joining his master on the bed. "If I am happier here, then it is because of you. Our new relationship gives me a peace that I have never known before."
"You're sure that is all it is?"
Xanatos smiled. "Shall I convince you?" he asked as he leaned in to kiss his master deeply. Qui-Gon gave in and let himself be distracted, but as he lay there in the dark, long after Xanatos had fallen asleep, he realized that he may have been seduced, but he was still not convinced.
It was a long time before he managed to find sleep.
***
All through the morning meal, Qui-Gon listened to the easy conversation between Crion and Xanatos without really hearing the words. The tone was enough, and if it hadn't been, the similarities in the voices, combined with the thickening of Xanatos' accent would have been telling all on their own.
The young man fit in without an effort here. He was accepted, admired, waited on. It would be so easy for him to give up everything he'd worked for and stay.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook himself out of his thoughts. "Yes, Padawan?"
"Father was asking if I would like to see my mother's hometown, as it's not far from here. We'd only be gone a couple of hours. May I go?"
"Certainly. I'll see you both at the midday meal then?"
"Yes, of course. Thank you." Xanatos stood as his father did, bowed to his master, and they left.
Qui-Gon stared down at the mostly uneaten food on his plate. He was being foolish. He could do nothing to alter Xanatos' path. It was his padawan's choice, and Qui-Gon could not choose for him. If he decided to leave the Jedi, then so be it.
Best to focus on something he could affect. That thought in mind, he left the table in search of the kitchens, and the servant he thought might know more than she was telling.
A few questions in the kitchen had him more concerned about the incident. Merlena had never been assigned there. One of the other kitchen workers said she'd been assigned to a kitchen at one of the offices in the middle of the city.
More curious than ever, Qui-Gon strolled the streets, careful to appear as though he was any other visitor to the city. He was convinced Crion was behind the incident, and if he was right, the Governor would likely have him followed.
He quickly identified his two watchers and lost them before making his way to the office building where Merlena was supposed to be working. It was easy enough to get into the kitchen; he'd made a habit of using kitchens as his entry to buildings. They were busy and generally had numerous entrances, which made slipping in unnoticed a simple feat.
Once inside, he quickly located the woman was standing over an oven, her face flushed. She looked less than happy. He stepped up to her, looking around for anyone who might be paying too much attention to them. When he found no one, he called out her name.
She turned, startled, then bowed. "Master Jinn! I did not expect to see you again. What brings you to this place?"
"I was looking for you. After what happened yesterday, I was concerned. Are you all right?"
She held out her hands, palms up, glanced down at her sweat-dampened dress, and lifted her limp hair. "Do I look all right?"
"Then you are not happy here?"
Merlena laughed. "Only a fool would be happy here. No, I am not happy, sir, and I have my own stupidity to thank for it. I should have known better."
"So you did know what your actions would do to the negotiations if you were caught?"
"Of course. But *he* put me up to it. Came to my room that afternoon and told me it was my duty to Telos, and that there'd be a big, fat promotion in it if I just went in there and played my part. And then when it was over, the Governor banished me to this place."
"The Governor talked you into framing the Councilman?"
She laughed again, the sound more harsh this time. "The Governor, be seen talking to a servant in her room? Ha! No, sir, it was his son that came to me about it."
"His son?" Qui-Gon barely managed to force the words out. "Xanatos?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, then held up her arm, pointing at four fading bruises. "Shook me so hard he left these as a reminder to keep my mouth shut. And I would have, if he'd done as he'd promised."
"You're sure it was Xanatos?"
"No one in that household could mistake anyone else for that one. His arrival was heralded as some kind of miracle. The entire staff was ordered to treat him like royalty."
She'd lied the morning before. Was she lying now? The idea that Xanatos....
"Who knows about this?"
"Nobody. I haven't been allowed to talk to any of my friends, and I don't trust the people around here not to turn me in. But you, you might be able to help me. The Jedi are known for helping people, that no-good son of the Governor aside, and I don't want to spend the rest of my life working in this place."
He ignored her comment about Xanatos for the moment. He had to think, to see if he even believed it could be possible. "I'll see what I can do. Thank you for telling me."
"I'll testify, if you want--if you can get me off the planet after."
"I don't think it will come to that." He wasn't anxious for her accusations to become public, true or not. "Thank you again."
Qui-Gon slipped out of the kitchen as easily as he'd slipped in. He wandered the streets, ending up on a bench in one of the perfectly planned parks Thani was known for. He'd known Xanatos was getting along with his father, but could Crion really have talked him into doing this?
How badly would Xanatos have to want his father's approval, to be driven to cooperating in such a nasty scheme? It would mean he'd gone against the code, against his training, lied to his master....
It couldn't be true. The woman was lying; it was that simple. He would go back to the Governor's quarters, tell his padawan about it, and they would uncover the real truth together. Xanatos would open his eyes and see his father for what he really was--a greedy, power-hungry manipulator. And then they could turn this mission over to someone else and leave.
His mind made up, Qui-Gon rose and headed for the Governor's quarters.
***
Qui-Gon checked his room first, but Xanatos wasn't there. He wandered through the maze of hallways toward the exercise room, when he passed by the door to Crion's study. The door was slightly open, and he could hear Crion speaking. Perhaps the governor knew where Xanatos was.
He reached the door and raised his hand to knock, but the next words he heard stopped him. "We'll have to bide our time until the army arrives." That was definitely Crion. But who was he talking to? Qui-Gon pulled out his comlink and flicked the setting to record. It was usually used for notes on a report, but it would work for this as well. "It'll be a close call, but I think we can manage."
"When does the army arrive?" Xanatos. Qui-Gon nearly dropped the comlink. So it was true. The logical part of his mind accepted the fact, even as the rest of him rejected it. It made sense--he was taken by his father and his father's power, and he'd been led astray. There was still hope for him.
With a strength he hadn't known he possessed, Qui-Gon shoved his emotional reactions to the revelation aside and paid attention to the conversation again.
"That was the soonest they could be here," Crion said.
"You should have hired someone closer."
Something was slammed down on wood. "Perhaps you would have liked to handle that little arrangement as well? You handled everything else so nicely. With the exception of your 'master'."
"What?"
"Jinn is suspicious."
"He knows nothing. Just leave that to me. Now, do you think your announcement will make the people angry enough for war?"
Qui-Gon stifled a sigh that was more of a half-sob. His padawan was in there, calmly discussing a war he was in the middle of instigating. This couldn't be real. He would have known before now if it were really happening. It had to be a dream.
"...announcement on camera. Once I do that, the people will be straining to go to war. Telos will have the science, the resources, and the factories, and the people will be rich. The fools will love me for it, and they'll never realize how much wealth I gain from it."
"We gain, Father. We."
"Of course. Assuming your master doesn't mess this up."
"I told you to leave him to me. I can handle him. I've handled him so far, haven't I?"
Handled? Now Qui-Gon was past upset and he could feel the anger building up inside. He struggled to keep his mind clear of the muddying power of the anger as he listened to Crion respond. "You never mentioned that 'handling' him involved sleeping with him."
At least that hadn't been part of the plan. Or not a part ordered by Crion at any rate. Satisfaction coursed through him at the hurt he could hear in the Governor's voice. The man was upset that his son had been sleeping with his master. Good.
"Whatever it takes," Xanatos answered coldly. "Speaking of which, I should go find him."
Footsteps grew louder as Xanatos headed toward the door. Qui-Gon turned off the recorder on the comlink and ducked into the nearest room, waiting until the footsteps faded away down the hall before he ventured out.
So, Xanatos was in league with his father. Qui-Gon could try to deny it all he liked, he could reason, rationalize, make excuses, but in the end, the result was the same. The young man had given into the lure of power and money. It might not be possible to save him.
But he had to try.
He would play along, pretend like nothing happened, and then tomorrow, during the broadcast, he would strike. Qui-Gon glanced down at the comlink, still in his hand, and put it away carefully. The words it contained would ensure that Crion damned himself in front of his own people tomorrow. Until then, all he could do was wait. And shut himself off from emotion. The slightest hint that he knew what was going on and there was no telling what would happen.
It was going to be a long day.
***
With the use of Force-enhanced speed, Qui-Gon just managed to beat Xanatos to the bedroom. He hurried into the bathroom, only to came right back out as his apprentice entered. "Good afternoon, Padawan." The normal, even tones of his own voice surprised him.
"Good afternoon, Master," Xanatos replied with a bow. "Did you enjoy your walk?"
"It was certainly interesting." He met his padawan in the center of the room, leaning down for a kiss. "How was your trip with your father?"
"It was wonderful! I feel like I have more of a sense of my history now. I've always had the tradition of the Jedi to ground me, but adding this to it is almost like having a whole new life."
Or exactly like it. Qui-Gon wondered if they'd really even gone to his mother's birthplace. More likely they'd gone off somewhere to plan their war. Anger and betrayal threatened to overtake his sense of duty, but he ruthlessly squashed them. Time enough later to feel the pain, plenty of time when he was either helping Xanatos break away from the dark, or....
No. He wouldn't consider the alternatives. For now, he had to act his part. And if he'd learned anything as a Jedi, it was how to act. The skill had come in handy often on missions. If he pulled this one off, he should get an award.
"Master?" Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no. I was just thinking about midday meal. I haven't eaten today." Nor did he want to, but he had to keep up appearances.
"Neither have I. Shall we see if we can raid the kitchen?"
Qui-Gon forced a smile. "Excellent idea."
They ate together at a table in the kitchen, discussing the differences between Telos and some of the other planets they'd been to. Qui-Gon could almost believe the conversation he'd heard earlier was a sick dream, and that this was any other mission. Xanatos acted as if nothing had changed. Of course, to him, nothing had changed. To him, Qui-Gon was still a fool, following along wherever his apprentice chose to lead him.
Once again, he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. He couldn't afford the distraction and pain they would cause. Xanatos would sense his emotions, and it was imperative that Xanatos not realize his master knew his plans. Or at least part of them.
"Do you know if Crion has heard from Nardir?"
"He has not, and it worries him," Xanatos answered. "He thinks they are stalling in hopes that he will call the negotiations off." A hard note entered his voice as he added, "If they are, they'll be disappointed."
"Padawan..." Qui-Gon reprimanded. The young man's feelings came as no surprise, but the fact that he'd allowed them to show indicated just how confident he was he'd fooled his master. However, under normal circumstances, he would chastise his apprentice for such a comment, so he had to say something.
The young man frowned. "I am simply commenting on my father's actions, Master."
"It is not the words I have a problem with, but the tone. We are supposed to be neutral parties here."
"He's my father. Do you really think the Nardirians will believe I'm completely neutral if they find out?"
With a sigh, Qui-Gon rose from the table. "If they find out you are his son, we will deal with it. I'm sure Master Yoda thought about that before he sent us here." Privately, he wondered if his master had thought any of this out. If he'd known what was going to happen, why hadn't he at least said something?
Again he pushed the questions aside. If his plan failed--not that he had any intention of letting that happen--then this would be the last day he would spend with his padawan. That thought was quickly buried. If all went as he intended, then he would need a strong relationship with Xanatos to get through to him and help him back to the right path.
With that in mind, he resolved to spend the rest of the afternoon with his padawan. It would be a solid memory for the two of them to build on afterwards.
And he could keep an eye on the young man.
"Master?"
Qui-Gon shook his head faintly. He needed a switch to turn off his emotions. "I was just thinking about what we should do for the rest of the day."
"Well, I was hoping to show you something later, but not until after evening meal."
Suspicion reared its ugly head, but this time he distanced himself from his emotions enough to keep from feeling anything his apprentice would notice. He examined the possibilities. It was doubtful Xanatos would give him advance notice if he were planning to spring some sort of trap. Whatever plan the young man had for the evening was probably relatively harmless.
Not that he intended to let his guard down for a moment.
"Perhaps we should spar a while then?" Qui-Gon suggested. Xanatos relied a great deal on his connection through the Force to his master when they sparred, using it when possible to gain advantages by reading Qui-Gon's moves ahead of time. The connection that method required between them often made his apprentice easier to read; perhaps he could learn more about Xanatos' plans.
"I like that idea." A smile lit up Xanatos' face. Qui-Gon noticed how quickly his apprentice could smile when the sentiment didn't reach his eyes. Only the smiles that emerged slowly seemed to be genuine.
Assuming, of course, that any smile Xanatos gave him was real.
Qui-Gon began gathering up his empty plates and cups, raising an eyebrow at Xanatos when he did not follow suit. The young man sighed, but picked up his mess and took it to the sink before following his master out of the kitchen.
They went back to Qui-Gon's room and changed before heading to the exercise room. The spacious room held only a few pieces of equipment that were easily moved aside to leave them plenty of space to maneuver.
After defeating Xanatos twice, Qui-Gon realized he was not going to learn anything more from his apprentice's mind. When had the young man's shields become so strong? How much had he been hiding from his master--and for how long?
Fine, so he couldn't learn anything about the plans. He could still learn, however, and prepare himself for possibilities he wouldn't have even considered just a day earlier. He had to prepare himself for any eventuality. So he studied Xanatos' fighting style, looking for weaknesses, and further distanced himself from the pain such precautions would have caused if he'd allowed himself to feel it.
Two more matches, one of the victories nearly going to Xanatos as Qui-Gon intentionally gave the young man openings. It allowed him to see how his apprentice would react to various approaches, and at the same time it gave the young man more confidence, a false sense of security that could work to Qui-Gon's advantage if, Force forbid, he had to face his padawan in a real fight.
"Enough," Qui-Gon panted as he helped his apprentice up from his narrow defeat.
"Afraid I will defeat you if we spar again?" The teasing comment held a note of pride.
"Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate--"
"--hate leads to suffering. I know, Master. Still, I've found that sometimes a little fear is a good thing; it makes you careful. Under the right circumstances, it can keep you alive."
Qui-Gon reached for a towel and wiped his face. "Perhaps." Another piece of insight to file away for the future. "There is such a thing as being too careful, however. Sometimes you have to take a few risks to achieve your objectives."
"You can't achieve anything if you're dead."
"There is no death, there is only the Force." It was a debate they'd had more than once since Xanatos had stopped deferring to everything his master said and begun expressing his own point of view. Given his new view of his apprentice, however, the argument took on new layers of meaning. "Your thoughts on the subject have some merit. On the other hand, sometimes death is the only way to achieve your goal. What then?"
"Then I'd say it depends on whose death achieves the goal."
The comment was callous, something a master should definitely take his apprentice to task for, but Qui-Gon didn't particularly care to do so. Still, appearances must be kept. "I think we both need time to meditate," he said sharply. "You should think about your feelings on that subject, and how they fit into the Jedi code."
"Yes, Master." A stiff bow followed the reluctant response. "Shall we meditate here?"
"Have you a better place in mind?"
"The gardens. I don't believe you've seen much of them since our arrival. They're very beautiful."
Qui-Gon nodded, fairly certain Xanatos wouldn't try anything in the gardens in broad daylight, despite the new confidence he now noticed. "Very well, the gardens it is."
***
The gardens were indeed beautiful, a mass of riotous colors that probably made orderly designs when viewed from the air. Viewed from the ground, however, the perfection of design was less obvious here than in the other parks of Thani. The flowers made nothing more than a jumble of color, as if someone had thrown various paints on the greenery. The smell they created was overpowering.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and breathed deeply, pushing aside the cloying smell and opening himself up to the Force. It was strong here amidst so much life; perhaps if he had come here sooner to meditate he would have felt the warnings from the Force about his apprentice's plans.
No, it would do him no good to agonize over everything he had missed, and how he had almost failed his student and the Jedi order. He hadn't missed it entirely, and there was still time to stop what had not yet occurred.
He reached out through the Force for his padawan's presence, sensed the calm contentment the young man was projecting as he meditated beside his master. Was he truly feeling that way in his meditation, or had he progressed so far in his control of the Force that he could project any feeling he desired? Either ability only served to underline his strength in the Force. Xanatos was more than ready to be a knight, if Force ability were the only requirement. There were areas in which he actually surpassed his own master.
However, Xanatos lacked that which mattered most in many situations--experience. Mastery of the Force mattered very little if you did not know when and how to use it to your best advantage. Qui-Gon knew his student's weaknesses, had seen many of them reinforced when they'd sparred earlier. Unless, of course, Xanatos had been holding back, giving a deliberately inferior performance to lull his master into a false sense of security.
All right, so Qui-Gon would have to go into whatever happened expecting Xanatos to be weaker, but not counting on it. He could make that adjustment in his plans. He could do just about anything if it meant stopping Crion's plans and saving his padawan.
Enough thinking. He deepened his breathing more and let go of conscious thought, drifting along in the Force, recharging himself for whatever lay ahead. He would need all his strength.
He only hoped all his strength would be enough.
***
To Part Three