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.
The atmosphere in the battle arena was kept pleasantly cool for the comfort of the spectators, but in the midst of battle, the air was oppressive, filled with sticky heat, making it more difficult for Qui-Gon to breathe as the skirmish went on. Grunting, he parried another attack from his opponent, a 12-year-old boy like himself, both of them trying desperately to win so they might catch the eye of one of the watching Masters.
It was unusual to have so many Masters coming to the Temple all at once to seek padawan learners; mostly they came one or two at a time, often with long months between them. Recently, however, a number of Jedi Knights had been elevated to Master status and had decided to claim an apprentice, and there were several Masters who’d been training their padawans elsewhere whose apprentices had graduated to the level of Jedi Knight. All in all, it was a prime opportunity for the expectant apprentices at the Temple, and they all felt the pressure of it keenly.
On the surface, Qui-Gon seemed to have an edge. He was tall for his age, and his build showed promise to be large and big-boned--once he grew into it. At the moment, he was all long legs, knees and elbows, a gangly youth who struggled to control his growing body, usually in vain. Not only was he teased for being the tallest among his peers, he was reputed to be one of the clumsiest, constantly tripping himself and others with his long feet or whacking someone with his sharp elbows.
It was a source of embarrassment to him and that, combined with all the normal pre-adolescent melodramatic tendencies and the anxiety stemming wanting to be chosen as someone’s padawan learner and fearing that he wouldn’t be had caused pockets of anger and resentment to bubble up in his usually calm, easy-going nature.
Mustering his strength for one last--and hopefully decisive--attack on the apprentice opposing him, Qui-Gon lunged, got tangled up in his own feet and collapsed in a graceless heap; the other apprentice barely refrained from smirking as he lightly touched the tip of his lightsaber to Qui-Gon’s shoulder.
“My victory,” he whispered, glancing expectantly up at the Masters in the crowd, and moments later, he dashed away, a delighted smile lighting up his face.
Qui-Gon lay huddled on the floor in a tight ball of misery, not daring to look. There wasn’t any point; he had felt no mind-call that indicated one of the Masters wished to speak with him further, perhaps tap him as their padawan.
It wasn’t fair... he thought, feeling tears prick his eyelids. Mace and Iain had been chosen earlier in the day; they were already off with their new Masters, perhaps beginning their training. They’d been friends for years, and he was genuinely happy for them, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be the one who was left behind.
When he finally mustered the courage to peek at the crowd from beneath his arm, he saw a few remaining Masters sitting on the front row, their expressions impassive.
So there were some who hadn’t made their choices...
Fortifying himself, he rose shakily to his feet, squaring his shoulders as he bowed respectfully to those who remained.
Some had not chosen, and some Masters had not yet arrived; he still had a chance. Today he had failed, but tomorrow...Well, perhaps tomorrow it would be his turn to be called.
Hopping off of his seat with surprising grace and agility for so hunched a figure, Yoda stumped across the Council chamber and stood in front of the only other occupant of the room; folding his hands on his chest, he waited for her to notice him, observing her closely as he did.
That her mind was not in the same place as her body was clearly evident; her pale blue eyes were unfocused and distant, and her expression was one of preoccupation; Yoda doubted she could even tell him what the last few matters the Council had discussed were.
“Know you that the meeting is adjourned?” he asked at last, poking her leg with one clawed finger, and she jumped, startled.
But despite the fact that he’d obviously interrupted her private reverie, she turned a tranquil smile on him as she leaned forward on her knees so that they could converse on a more equal level--and Master Yoda wouldn’t get a crick in his neck from peering up at her.
“Forgive me,” she replied, her voice low and pleasant. “I was thinking of other matters.”
Yoda chuckled and poked her leg again, playfully this time. “See this did I,” he teased. “What think you of the Senate’s decision?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and a sheepish smile curved her lips. “I must confess, Master Yoda, I don’t even know what decision you’re talking about. My mind--wasn’t on the meeting today.”
Nodding, Yoda’s expression and tone turned serious. “On the Council your mind has not been for some time. What troubles you, Yaniko?”
“Troubles?” She lifted one eyebrow at him, then sighed and turned her gaze out the window to the bustle of Coruscant beyond.
Shuttles zoomed past; lights flickered on as the sun slowly sank on the horizon; life continued at its frantic pace outside, and yet inside the chamber all felt quiet and peaceful as if Time crept at a slower pace there than everywhere else. Such was the nature of Jedi serenity, Yoda thought. Only Yaniko’s unrest caused little ripples to disturb the still atmosphere.
“I wouldn’t say anything is troubling me, really,” she continued, her voice sounding distracted. “It’s more...discontent, I suppose.”
“Unhappy with your position on the Council, are you?” Yoda asked pointedly. He didn’t even need to do a low-level probe; it was an educated guess based on long-standing friendship, and he knew his chances of being right were high.
“If you say ‘I told you so,’ I’m going to tweak your pointy little ears,” she retorted, tossing him a mock-threatening look.
“Told you I did,” he replied smugly, dancing backwards out of reach when she lunged at him, aiming for his ear.
Laughing, she shook her head. “I know, I know. I thought it was an honor, and I thought I was tired of slogging around on endless missions--and I thought I was REALLY tired of trying to train snot-nosed, bratty padawans,” she added with a grin.
“Now bored are you.” It was a statement rather than a question, but she answered him anyway.
“Out of my skull.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back, rolling her head against the back of the chair. “Endless meetings, trivial beaurocracy, haggling with the Senate--it’s all so tedious! I don’t know how you stand it, I really don’t.”
“Word games with Brantis play I.”
“You never.”
He chuckled again. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. But content am I to deal with such tedious matters. Your path lies elsewhere. A good teacher are you.”
Laughing softly, she rose gracefully to her feet and walked side-by-side with Yoda out of the chamber. “I’m ready for a change, yes, but an apprentice...? They do take it out of a person, and I’m not as young as I used to be,” she said ruefully, tucking a loose strand of grey hair behind her ear.
“Many apprentices have we who lack a Master. Sent elsewhere will they be unless chosen they are.” Yoda stopped in his tracks and sent a piercing look up at her. “A shame would it be to lose them.”
“I’m being hinted at, aren’t I?” She smiled knowingly, tucking her hands into her sleeves as they began to walk again.
“Hint?” Yoda’s tone was scornful. “Pah! Subtle I am not--telling you outright I am!”
They walked along in companionable silence for a while, and then Yoda’s ears perked up when he heard her release a quiet, “Hhm...”
“I’ll think about it,” Yaniko said at last. “Who knows? Maybe this time I’ll actually listen to your advice.”
“A first it would be.”
“Oh, do shut up.”