Before - Legends New post 8/8--WAYWARD BEINGS--Qui-Gon's first apprentice

Oops.

 

Lurkers: This week is for those who have been patient with me all along, have sometimes given me less public support or silent support. I love you all and I'm so glad you're all reading my stories. This all sounds like mushy drivel, but I've had such a hard year that coming to a place where people will read and laugh and cry when I do is sometimes the only thing that has kept me sane.

The person who delurks the most memorably will have a role created for them in this story to their choosing or will have a vignette written by me in their honor. Please participate.

This week is for all of you, to remind you how much we appreciate the little things you do.

Happy Lurker Appreciation Week!

[image=http://www.rhonderoo.com/easy.jpg]

 

Lurker week doesn't mean you lurk more...

 

WELCOME TO LURKER APPRECIATION WEEK!

For something rather different, we're going to do a Reader Response Scavenger Hunt!

Here's how it works: I post a clue in all of my current story threads with a link to each of the stories. The clue is based on a reader response. You then find the next clue on that thread and so on and so on. This will last all week and the prize will be of your choosing at the end.

Happy hunting!

So, for the first clue:

In this thread, Lt_Jaina_Solo was declared the Wizard of Awwwwwwwwwwwwwws for the 84 "Awwwws" she has posted in the 2 prequels to the story. Clue will be on the first page.

 

FIVE YEARS LATER

"No fair!"

It was a surprising statement to hear from a Jedi, especially a senior Padawan at the age of twenty-three years, but Kemé felt perfectly justified in her complaint.

"What is it now?" Qui-Gon responded with a sigh, not bothering to turn around as his Padawan entered the apartment.

"I was just tutoring the senior Initiates," she explained, "and you'll never believe who's taller than me!"

It was a common complaint, since she had never quite reached what humans considered to be an average height.

Perhaps she should be assigned to helping the Younglings' classes for her volunteer work so she won't felt left behind on the evolutionary scale.

"Who?" he queried politely.

Master Yoda?

The tukant bug on the floor?

"Obi-Wan!"

That made him drop his spatula in shock, a rare accomplishment for her. When he turned to stare at her, she was grinning triumphantly.

"Your favorite 'short stuff' is taller than you?" he spluttered.

"By a full half an inch," she confirmed.

"Not surprising," he surmised, "since he's nearly eleven..."

"Yes," she agreed. "It's about time he started looking for a Master, or one started looking for him..."

That smile was turning dangerous, just as it had every time either one of them had mentioned Ler and his stomach twisted.

"Now, now," he chided, "talking about my next victi...I mean, apprentice..."

She snickered, but did not respond.

"Before you're Knighted is rather like taking up a romantic interest while the first wife is still alive."

"If you say so," she conceded, "but word is that you've already started looking. Rather devious of you, Kaigon."

"Always prepared," he counted. "And I've been observing, not browsing. I've been observing Xanatos, if you must know."

There was a shocked silence, then...

"The brooder?"

His mouth twitched at the edges. "Is that what you call him? I hadn't noticed."

"Oh, please," she sighed. "I tutor him in history and I swear that boy practices his hormonal glower in the mirror every morning for all the use he puts it to."

"Sounds like he'll make the perfect Padawan brother for the girl with the million-klick stare."

She sniffed indignantly at his term for her contemplative state, but did not refute the claim.

"I hear Master Xiburine is shopping..."

"Over my dead body!"

It was good to know some things never changed.

 

Hey!

I'm not *really* a lurker, since I just started reading this story today, but I really like this story. (Yes, that sentence had two unrelated subjects...) One thing I'm not clear on, though -- was What's his face the BADFAKE Master the one behind the kidnapping and brainwashing of Padawans?

Good stuff.

 

Yes, he was.

 

Up...

 

Amber clashed on emeraude with an angry hiss, then parted with a squeal.

"You're not concentrating!"

It was common to hear this, but not from Padawan to Master.

"Sorry," Qui-Gon teased, taking a swing at her midsection. "I'm contemplating how to cut you down to size. If I strike you down, my lightsaber would hit the ground within two seconds flat."

Kemé ducked back, then snapped her saber blade to midline, twitching her wrist to bat lightly at the second swing that came as a backhand blow from the left. It threw him off-balance, giving her time to pivot on her forward foot and bring her blade up in an arc to strike hard at his. That cost him two steps and a moment's concentration, but he quickly recovered it by striking in three quick, overhand blows that bought him time.

"Well, don't worry," she said idly, "you won't get that chance."

She twisted her wrists in a circular motion, driving the grip of his saber against his vulnerable thumb and knocking it out of his grip.

Immediately, she deactivated her saber and stepped back to drop into a meditative pose, letting the Force cool her mind and slow her heartbeat.

"I'd say you're becoming too confident," Qui-Gon observed, "but you probably would take that as a sign that I'm tired of being thrashed."

"I've only defeated you twice since that first time," Keme countered. "If I were too confident, I wouldn't be working this hard to do so."

"True."

She crossed to the bench where her boots were and removed her exercize slippers, flexing her feet gently. Leaning over, she reached for her boot, only to yelp in pain.

"All right," she admitted, reaching up to rub her shoulder. "I might have been overconfident on that one throw, since it took me down as well."

"Not surprising," Qui-Gon laughed. "Whenever a womprat tries to throw a bantha, the womprat comes off the worse."

"But it usually works," she protested.

"Only because you make yourself think that you are a bantha," he reminded.

She grinned, shaking her head. "First you call me arrogant and now you're encouraging my over-confidence?"

"Something like that," he returned with an equal grin. "It accomplishes one crucial thing in fostering our relationship."

"Which is?"

"It always keeps you guessing!"
*****
"The Council will see you now."

They entered in silence and waited after bowing.

"We have an unusual request," Master Faru began, "from the Corellian Security division. They are tracking a serial killer, but they have evidence that it might be a Force-sensitive."

Qui-Gon noted how the blood drained from Kemé's face, but she was mature enough not to argue that the Council was putting them in the same sort of situation that had led to her abduction by Master Ufomar.

"Set a thief to catch a thief?" Qui-Gon quoted.

"In a way, yes," Faru responded. "Your main goal is to track down the killer, but we must know if it is one of the Lost Twenty or a renegade Force-user."

Now, it was time for the blood to leave his face at the mention of the Lost Twenty. There had only been nineteen until last year, when his own Master had chosen to leave. There had been no official statement on why he had left and Qui-Gon had been unable to contact him, so instead, rumors and personal fears were the breeding ground for the thoughts of what might have caused his defection.

There was the fear of facing him again and not being able to get answers, but even more fearsome was the idea that they might be asked to track him down on this mission.

"And if we find him?" Kemé interrupted, voice strained.

"The Force will guide you," Faru promised, "but we would prefer him alive."

 

Upping...I'd like a response before I up this on Thursday night.

 

I sat here all day reading this story. It is extremely hot in my room, but the only way to turn on the AC is to turn off the computer, which wasn't going to happen...

So, I don't know whether this is a compliment or an accusation (just kidding) but your story made me sit in a sticky room sweating just to find out what was going to happen to Keme and Qui-Gon. And on TOP of that, I'm not even primarily a Qui-Gon fan, I'm an Obi-Wan fan!

Good job. Poor Keme, though. I don't know if I'd be able to survive all the things she went through.
-Crystyna Kenobi

 

Hm... This is really good. I can't wait to read more.

Gah, too used to ff.n style reviewing where you don't really interact with the author. Interesting choice with how Dooku left the Order... I guess it had to happen sometime near the timeline of your story, but allowing Qui to have an emotional reaction is interesting...

Not that he isn't emotional, but I guess it's something we don't see. Especially since Qui never talked about him in any of the books or movies. Obi-Wan was clearly clueless.

Anyway, write on.

 

Crystyna_Kenobi--I sat here all day reading this story. It is extremely hot in my room, but the only way to turn on the AC is to turn off the computer, which wasn't going to happen...

Oh, I feel your pain. My apartment when I got married had no AC and we got married in the middle of June.

So, I don't know whether this is a compliment or an accusation (just kidding) but your story made me sit in a sticky room sweating just to find out what was going to happen to Keme and Qui-Gon. And on TOP of that, I'm not even primarily a Qui-Gon fan, I'm an Obi-Wan fan!

LOL, that's probably a bit of both and while I feel sorrow for your suffering, I am extraordinarily grateful that you suffered through to enjoy this. I'm a huge Obi-Wan fan, but love Qui-Gon as an untapped potential.

Good job. Poor Keme, though. I don't know if I'd be able to survive all the things she went through.

I wouldn't. Heck, my husband was an Ufomar and I now have post-traumatic stress disorder, whereas she has Qui-Gon to keep her sane.

astraevirgo--Hm... This is really good. I can't wait to read more.

Well, with two new readers, I'm jazzed to keep it going.

Gah, too used to ff.n style reviewing where you don't really interact with the author. Interesting choice with how Dooku left the Order... I guess it had to happen sometime near the timeline of your story, but allowing Qui to have an emotional reaction is interesting...

I always wondered about how Qui-Gon would be able to deal with the loss of his Master in that sense. He does have an element of stoic calm in TPM, but that's a pretty profoundly personal loss and he'd probably blame himself on a lot of levels.

Not that he isn't emotional, but I guess it's something we don't see. Especially since Qui never talked about him in any of the books or movies. Obi-Wan was clearly clueless.

It's gotta be a hard subject to breach.

Anyway, write on.

Will do, thanks, hon!

 

I haven't forgotten this, but I have been rather busy at times and uninspired at others and I have just sent off a bunch of questions to poor Ophelia who can give me a hint on whether or not I"m allowed to do a certain thing. (Don't worry, it's not killing Keme)

 

Ish, you can do whatever you want. I've done appalling things to George's characters without once asking him or even letting him know, so I can't very well demand that anyone using mine get all permission-happy.

I confess that I have a lot to catch up on here, but from this last section I liked Qui-Gon and Kemé's banter, and the crack about Master Yoda being taller than she is got a grin out of me. (Does Qui-Gon think Yoda grew, or Kemé shrank?) I also have a dreadful soft spot for L'il Obi-Wan, so hearing a bit about him was cute.

It'll be interesting to see how Kemé reacts to her apprenticeship nearly being at an end . . . "Kai-Gon" means more to her than most Masters do to their apprentices.

I didn't introduce Xanatos into my version of this world . . . partly because I started writing right after TPM came out, and I hadn't seen any of the JA books yet, and partly because I decided I didn't like them when I found them. I've seen enough fanfic where Xanatos is horrible to little Obi-Wan to know that I don't like the guy, though. I'm looking forward to seeing what Kemé does to--I mean, with, him.

Yikes on the tracking a serial killer thing . . . that went so poorly last time. How are they going to handle being in that kind of situation again?

 

LOL, I just am so attached to Kemé that I don't really want to just do anything and I want a fairly good continuity, but knowing my luck, that'll be a matter of "Fat chance." I think Qui-Gon was teasing her that she might have shrank. I love obi-wan and he'll actually be figuring in the next post. And yes, there will be a bit of a hard time when she has to leave Kaigon's apprenticeship, but you know aht. Yes. I'm going to adapt this to exclude Xanatos as an apprentice, but he will have a connection to Qui-gon. Yeah, they don't seem to have luck with serial killers, but this is a different idea.

 

"You've been to Corellia, then?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "Only four times and two of those were for the purpose of collecting Force-sensitive chilren," he explained. "I haven't much occasion to work with CorSec."

"Can't be any worse than working with CoruSec," she countered.

He turned an amused smile on her. "Have you ever met a Corellian?"

She tossed a stylus at him, scowling. "I am Corellian," she reminded.

"You're a Corellian Jedi. There's a difference."

"If you say so," she sighed.

He threw the stylus back, then stood to retrieve a glass. "Every Corellian I've met who hasn't had the benefit of Temple discipline is strongly patriotic. While this is not a bad thing, it's a matter of exclusion. They think that those who do not regard Corellia and all Corellians as infinitely superior to the other worlds and sentients of this Galaxy are weak-minded and blind. Their egos tend to be as large as their sector."

"Sounds like fun," she said with a grimace. "Does this ego extend to courtship?"

"I don't think you should be thinking about that," he teased. "Jula juice?"

"Yes, please," she responded. "I'm not thinking about it, but I need to know if I'll be fighting off a horde of pernicious suitors just to get to the suspect."

"No more than usual," he returned. "They also like girls who fight dirty, so that scar will have them flocking to you by the dozens."

The side of her lip with the long scar curled in distaste. She was self-conscious enough about the mark that she had earned at the age of nineteen while defending a civilian family, but to have it become a factor of attraction was virtually unthinkable.

?I?ll just have to hide behind you,? she observed. ?It?s the only logical reason why the Force has kept me to the size of a stunted Ewok.?

?Even better,? he retorted, ?we?ll be there with cover stories, disguises, and the like. You?re the only one of us small enough to slip in and out of shadows.?

?Yes, yes,? she said patiently, ?that?s what you always say.?

?And I always tend to be right,? he reminded.

He turned to find her grimacing, eyes averted. ?What if I?d rather not be the one going into the shadows?? she asked quietly.

In their meditation that morning, they had sought answers from the Force that might prepare them for the mission, but her thoughts kept returning in a disturbing pattern to Ufomar. It was a matter that she had kept, by and large, shielded from him and he wasn?t particularly eager to get the gruesome details, so he had simply listened when she needed to talk, held her when her nightmares dragged her away from sleep.

This morning, however, she had flooded his mind with everything that she could remember and the emotions he had experienced in the face of such violation and helplessness and madness had left him unable to think clearly for a full hour afterwards.

He no longer had to question any fear she might have of the dark.

?You forget,? he said quietly, ?that you won?t be going alone this time.?
*****
?A pleasure, as always, to welcome the Jedi to Corellia,? the Diktat?s aide was saying as they rode through the streets of Coronet.

?Our pleasure to be here,? Keme returned. ?Your capital is quite impressive.?

The other man smiled indulgently. ?We?ve been blessed with a certain level of prosperity in this last century,? he admitted, ?but our new Diktat has been focusing more on the improvement of our schools than in the beautification of the city.?

?Good to know that they haven?t been forgotten,? Qui-Gon commented. ?When I first came here, that was one of the Republic?s major concerns.?

?We are aware of that,? the aide agreed. ?It is still a primary concern, second only to the military program.?

For a long minute, they rode in silence and she turned her thoughts inward, focusing on the sense of the place that the Force was providing. While things seemed to be prosperous here, there was an undeniable fear that lurked among the thoughts of the populace.

Then again, since the crime r

 

Upping...

 

This will be updated tomorrow morning.

 

The man who was escorted into the office was a familiar face to any person of Kemé's age who had grown up in the Temple, but to her, there was a particular fascination in regarding the man who had once been a Jedi.

Since the Sith Wars, only twenty Jedi had ever left the Order of their own free will. Some had chosen to depart from the teachings that they felt were restrictive. Some left as a result of crimes committed or dreams unfulfilled. One young woman had left when she chose to fight on the other side of a war and had been killed before she was given a chance to return.

Qui-Gon had never spoken of the night before his old Master's departure, but she had heard enough of the arguing to get the general gist and the imprint of Master Dooku's fist on Qui-Gon's jaw had not faded quickly enough for her liking.

He looked like any other civilian now, dressed in a well-tailored suit that was neither military nor casual, but what a well-to-do businessman might wear for everyday proceedings.

He was being escorted by CorSec as was procedure for a criminal investigation, but he carried himself with none of the nervousness that such an escort would normally incur. Instead, he looked as though they were his bodyguards, there at his convenience.

Apparently, he hadn't forgotten everything about being a Jedi.

Kemé stood gracefully and executed a formal bow.

"Master Dooku," she greeted, "thank you for coming."

His lip twisted slightly at the form of address, but he didn't refute her respect, only returned the bow.

"Do I have the right to call you Knight Noori yet?" he queried.

"Not just yet," she conceded.

"Then, Padawan Noori, it is a pleasure to be of service," he replied formally.

It was spoken as a man who had nothing to fear, but her stomach lurched instinctively at the thought that, if he were the one they were looking for, she might well have been fooled by that fact alone.

"Master Jinn," she said around a suddenly dry throat, "is still interviewing our last appointment, so if you would like to take a seat..."

"Does he treat you well?"

She managed a smile, but his tone left her uneasy and wishing Qui-Gon to end early. "Better than I deserve," she said truthfully, "though he would consider it strange that I find his disciplining to be such a gesture of affection."

"A trait worthy of my spiritual granddaughter," he mused lightly. "Our adversity can teach us many things, as I'm sure you know."

"Yes, Master," she said dutifully, pushing the familiar thought of Ufomar and a cliffside on Tatooine to the back of her mind. "He speaks often of you."

"With regret?"

"At times," she admitted, "but many times with pride."

His mouth twisted slightly, but the look in his eyes was telling enough, as was the slight strain in his voice. "It is good to know that someone is capable of that sort of compassion," he said drily.

Undoubtedly, he was not capable of it himself.

Not all who wander are lost.

"A decision to disagree with the Jedi Order does not a demon make," she countered solemnly.

Again, a twist of the lip, but this time, it was in amusement. "I'll have to remember that."

Any further conversation was forestalled by the opening of the door. Qui-Gon ushered the CorSec agent out, then turned a large smile on his former Master. The two embraced quickly.

"I wish it were under better circumstances, but it is good to see you again."

"Agreed," Dooku responded. "You have quite the impressive Padawan."

Qui-Gon regarded her frankly, clearly wondering what they had been speaking of, but decided not to press the issue. "That's what I've been trying to tell her," he teased, "but she's learned my humility lecture by heart and has taken it into consideration."

"And that's a bad thing?" Kemé retorted.

"Not at all," he assured her. "Just frustrating for your poor, proud Master."

Turning, he gestured towards the doorway. "Master, shall we?"

 

Not all who wander are lost.

And 'all that is gold does not glitter'... but that's another story... and one would do best not to get me started...
I like this post....*trots off to start reading this from the beginning*

 

LOL! Yes, I'm a Tolkienphile, too. Thanks for reading the post and hope you like the from-the-beginning version.

 

That's pretty cool. "Spiritual Granddaughter" -- heh. Too bad Lucas never told us what the Jedi really thought of their "lineages"... though I doubt he would be doing a better job than what fanfic has rought.

I'd like to see how this gets on... mwhaha..

 

I like the kinda revulsion look Obi-Wan has going on during that one scene in AOTC where he's like "Qui-Gon Jinn would never join you."

 

"It's a relief," Qui-Gon observed, "but I sense no deception from him and he has perfectly reasonable alibis."

"That is a relief," Kemé agreed, "but are you sure your judgment isn't clouded?"

He turned slightly to eye her in exasperation while trying to navigate the speeder at the same time, then focused on the traffic ahead. "What makes you say that, Padawan?" he queried.

Other masters might have used the title as a barb when their apprentices got too confident or started questioning their judgment. He was simply curious, but wary.

"You still thought he was stable until the moment he decided to leave the Order," she reminded.

"We all did," he retorted. "When a Jedi turns to darkness, it tends to obscure our ability to recognize it in them."

It was the closest he'd ever come to admitting that he had been wrong about his Master. Like everyone else, Kemé had formed certain convictions as soon as she heard that Master Dooku had chosen to leave the Order rather than face judgment for crimes against those he had been assigned to serve, but Qui-Gon had been one of the few stalwart supporters.

She had been wise enough and compassionate enough to not question why until today, but perhaps it was her judgment that was clouded.

"So, what makes you think he didn't do it?" she pressed.

He was quiet for a long moment, obviously trying to avoid the phrase "I know him better than that" or "My Master wouldn't." Finally, he sighed and looked in her direction once again.

"Motive," he said shortly. "Master Dooku was never one to act on impulse and while he might have committed one murder in what he would call self-defense, he would not do it for the pleasure of it."

That, at least, she could believe. "I don't like the idea that any Jedi could do this for the pleasure of it," she said quietly.

"Nor do I," he agreed, "but we never agreed that it's a Jedi, just..."

"A Force-sensitive," she completed the sentence. "I remember. I just also remember that it's what they said about Ufomar."

"I remember," he echoed.

He remembered too well, apparently, since his knuckles were now white as he handled the steering yoke, but he didn't say anything further about the matter.

"As it is," he continued, "Master Dooku has invited the both of us to dine with him this evening."

"At what time?"

"In an hour," he explained. "It is to be relatively informal."

Relatively informal meant that the investigation was not to be mentioned, but it also meant that Dooku and Qui-Gon would be attempting to one-up each other in the Embarrassing Padawan Stories department.

Perhaps this day would not be pleasant after all.
*****
"And if that weren't bad enough," Qui-Gon laughed, "she then proceeded to infiltrate the slave dancers."

"A resourceful Padawan," Dooku commended.

"You wouldn't think so if you saw the frock she was wearing or the moves she was making. I nearly failed in the mission because I kept trying to bury my head in my hands."

"Yes," Kemé protested, "but he's forgetting to mention that the person who provided the information to solve the case was my dancing partner."

"As it usually happened," Dooku agreed with a wry smile. "Unfortunately, Qui-Gon has never masqueraded as a slave girl, but I think you'd be interested to hear about the time when I had been captured and Qui-Gon..."

"Oh, no," Qui-Gon protested. "We are not mentioning Jinné, the Queen's trusty and extraordinarily ugly handmaiden."

"The problem," Dooku supplied, ignoring him, "lay in the fact that he thought the rescue would be done in a matter of hours so that he wouldn't have to be disguised for long."

"How many days did it take?" Kemé grinned.

"Three weeks," Qui-Gon grumbled. "It's the only reason I don't laugh at you when you complain of womanly troubles. I've had to fake a few of them myself."

It was improper to howl with laughter as a Jedi, but Kemé was sorely tempted, so she simply turned to Dooku and asked where the 'fresher was.

It was a tried and true principle that the most