Qui-Gon caught Ssbob's eye, waving as he stood by the bar. "Can I have another one?"

"Ssertainly. Are you ssure your Masster would approve?"

"I don't think it really matters. I'm practically a Knight as it is." Qui-Gon rubbed his temples, half-hoping his Master would wander in so they could have an argument about it. He was in need of a good argument about now. "So about that drink."

Ssbob passed over another tumbler his way, and he returned to his table. It didn't matter that the table didn't hold its other usual three occupants. He didn't want to return to the apartment he shared with his Master just yet; after spending the last month off-planet with small green troll, he was in no hurry to usher in another lecture about obedience and the benefits of being sober.

Staring into the amber liquid in the clear glass before him, Qui-Gon watched the low lights of the chamber reflect through the dark swirls of the drink. Captivated by the shifting color, he studied the tiny bubbles rising to the surface, which hovered there for a moment before they disappeared. The cool glass pressed against his fingertips, the sensation so different from the pounding heat of the desert region where he'd spent countless days in search of peace that never came.

An unexpected movement pulled his attention away from the glass and across the table, where Bel-San had just dropped himself into his chair. "How's it going?"

Qui-Gon scoffed. "I was having a moment here."

"I'll bet you were. You're always having a moment. That's what you do. I think you can spare one." He leaned forward in his chair, smiling as he swiped Qui-Gon's drink. "Thanks. I thought you weren't supposed to be back for another three months."

"What, are you disappointed? The negotiations...fell through. I'm really glad I spent a month of my life there. Really glad. In the grand scheme, I think my life will have much more meaning having wasted a month there. Did I mention it didn't go well?"

"I didn't catch that. So, what you're saying is...I don't remember. I think you'll have to explain that again."

Qui-Gon sighed, scowling at his friend. "You know, I just got that drink."

"Yeah, I noticed it was full. And I already said thanks."

"So what are you doing home? I thought you were doing some of that, what do you call it? Research? While the rest of us are out saving the galaxy, risking our lives, that sort of thing?"

Bel-San put on a patient expression and leaned across the table. "Just because you don't understand it, and you're intimidated by my intelligence is no reason to mock me."

"No really, I thought you were going to be gone for another month."

"We didn't need another month. My Master and I were so productive, we got to spend the last week hanging out on the beach."

Qui-Gon reached across the table and snatched the glass from Bel-San's hands. "So what you're saying is, they misrepresented the usefulness of their library?"

"Yeah, just a little bit. So are you going to buy me a drink or what?”

"What do I look like here?"

Bel-San gestured with his hand, his eyes wide and innocent. "The drink-buying guy? What part didn't you get?"

"The part where you assume I have money. That's where the logic breaks down for me. Besides, you just had this one." Qui-Gon raised the glass towards Bel-San.

"Not all of it. You used to share."

"Only when I've had a lot more to drink than this."

"So when are you leaving again, Mr. Saving-the-Galaxy man?"

Qui-Gon looked at his friend, a bewildered expression on his face. "What is with you? The drink-buying man? The saving-the-galaxy man? Wait. Wait a second. You've been teaching teenagers again, haven't you?"

"You have no idea. The library had all of two books in it. I spent the better part of the mission interviewing locals, and the adults weren't talking. Do the math."

"Hmm. So I guess being a diplomat isn't so bad after all. I'm here for two days, and then we head off to Fill-in-the-Planet. What about you?"

Bel-San smiled at his irreverent title for his next destination. "I have a week, and then I start Interdependent Origination of Symbiotic Bipedal Environments."

"Oh. Next week me carry big stick. Help natives. Save day. No really, can I borrow your notes? I think I can work it in next term, if Yoda decides to stop planet hopping for a month. Sometimes I wish there was a crisis on Coruscant, just for variety's sake."

"Hey! I bust my ass in these classes, taking notes, and you guys sail through them a term later with the benefit of my hard-earned education. You would have never gotten through Common Elements of Indigenous Cultures if it wasn't for me."

"You're right. And I thank you. So, I can have your notes, right?"

"You'll owe me."

"That's nothing new. Besides, you get the satisfaction of helping another Jedi. That alone should be payment enough."

"Right. And maybe Ewoks will fly out of my ass and do your homework."

"You're getting bitter in your old age, Bel-San. I don't like it. I don't think it's good for you."

"I'd be a lot less bitter if you'd buy me a drink."

"Didn't we just go over this?"

"Yes, and you'll note I'm still drinkless."

"I think you need to get out more."

"Oh no. Oh no no no. The last time you said that, I spent three weeks scrubbing rocks in the Meditation Garden. Just stop right there."

"No, hear me out--"

"No. I said stop. I don't want to hear anything you have to say, unless it's 'Sure, Bel-San, I'd love to buy you a drink."

"Sure, Bel-San, I'd love to buy you a drink, as soon as we get back from our latest mission at Adventure Dominion on Tocpe."

"What? No, that place is for kids."

"Have you ever been? I think you'd fit in well."

"I think you'd fit in well. Besides, Sy-Mon can't go on those rides so he never took me. He has heart problems. And I'm not going, so it's a moot point anyway. You know I have that thing with heights."

"Then this is the perfect opportunity for you to overcome that fear. You're a Jedi. We face our fears head-on. Fear leads to the Dark side. You don't want to go to the Dark side, do you? There is no option here. You need to go on this trip. Your very soul rests on your going on this adventure. What kind of friend would I be if I stood idly by, watching you slide further and further from the Light when I could have taken you to Adventure Dominion and saved us all?"

"I bet Yoda rues the day he put you in those Logic classes."

"So you'll go?"

"Um, no."

"So, what you're saying is, you'll go."

"So, why don't you kiss my ass?"

"If I do, will you go?"

"I don't know if he'll go, but I'll pay to see that!" Payter strode into the dimly lit chamber, a bemused expression on his face.

Mace followed a pace behind him, brushing back his dark padawan braid before shaking his head. "Don't encourage them. So where are we going?"

"We're all going to Adventure Dominion. You have time off, right? It doesn't really matter; you're coming anyway."

"I love how you plan my life, Qui-Gon," Mace said dryly, dropping into his usual seat. "I really appreciate it. I've been on planet for all of five minutes, and you've got the itinerary all set up."

Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. "You're as bad as he is. You need to learn to relax a little bit. Kick back, you know?"

"Yeah, we all know what happens when you kick back. We usually end up in some Force-forsaken hole in the middle of some backwater hive of scum and villainy," Mace said as Bel-San nodded in agreement.

Qui-Gon shrugged, lifting his hands. "What is with everyone? There is nothing wrong with my plans. I've thought this one out, and it's seamless. Nothing is going to go wrong. We're going to go to Adventure Dominion, we're going to ride some rides, eat some greasy food and candy, and come back, all in one piece. And the better for it. Bel-San's soul is in peril, you know. He needs to go."

Payter laughed, displaying a menacing smile. "Your soul is in peril? Really? It's amazing the trouble you get into when we leave you alone."

"I'm not going," Bel-San said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Forget it. You can't make me."

"Oh really? I bet I can." Qui-Gon waved his hand lightly through the air, miming a Force-suggestion.

"Quit it!" Bel-San leaned back in his chair away from the table. "You cannot do that. I will not allow you to do this to me. I hate it when you do that. Keep your Force to yourself."

"You know, you can't really stop me."

"I'm leaving. Right now. Sy-Mon expects me back soon, and I'm not going on your stupid trip, so you can just leave me alone."

Payter rested a firm hand on Bel-San's shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. "I think we need to talk about this like civilized people. You're much smaller than the rest of us, and we can make you go whether you want to or not. You should keep that in mind. Accept this gracefully."

"You are unbelievable, all of you. If you're not going to let me up, then one of you is going to buy me a drink. You owe me."

Payter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we've heard that before."

"Give me one good reason why you don't want to go," Qui-Gon said.

Bel-San lifted a finger into the air. "I can give you two. One, Sy-Mon told me not to leave the planet. Two, every time I go anywhere with any of you, something bad happens, and it always happens to me."

Qui-Gon sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're not thinking of that prison thing, are you? Because I told you I was sorry. That was entirely out of my hands. I couldn't prevent it."

"So you say. But the point is, I'm not going," Bel-San said, his tone resolute.

Qui-Gon turned away from him. "So Payter, do you think you can get us a transport?"

Lightly slapping the tabletop, Bel-San's gaze narrowed. "Did you hear me? I said, I'm not going."

"Yeah, I think I could arrange something. When do you want to leave?" Payter asked.

"Can you be ready in an hour?"

"No problem."

Bel-San pushed himself out of his seat. "I'm not going. You can't make me."

Meeting Payter's line of vision for only a moment, Qui-Gon grabbed one of Bel-San's arms as Payter hefted the smaller Jedi into the air.

"I think you are," Qui-Gon said, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"You really should stop struggling; you're making a scene," Payter said, nodding.

Bel-San kicked out his legs, the toes of his boots scraping the floor. "I wouldn't be making a scene if you would let me go!"

They unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, and Qui-Gon rubbed his palms together. "Can you walk like a big boy now?"

Bel-San scowled at them both, his eyebrows meeting in a dark brown point between his eyes. "You're going to be so sorry, you have no idea how sorry you are going to be."

"I can take it from here, guys. I'll make sure Bel-San gets his stuff and we'll meet you at Payter's," Qui-Gon said.

Payter nodded, inclining his head towards the door, and Mace stood to join him. "Sounds like a plan. See you soon." Both tall figures passed through the doorway, and Qui-Gon held out a hand, allowing Bel-San to go first.

Bel-San scrubbed a hand down his face as he moved out into the corridor. "Sy-Mon told me I can't leave the planet. He'll never let me go."

"You're not supposed to ask. You're supposed to ask forgiveness when you get back. You've gotten very rigid in your old age."

"I'm not going. I said no."

"It's good for you to have opinions, even if they're wrong. You'll thank me when this is over, I guarantee it."

They approached the apartment that Bel-San shared with his Master, and Bel-San keyed in the entrance code. "I'm not having this conversation with you. I'm not going, and you can't make me. I'll tell Sy-Mon, and he'll tell Yoda, and then you'll be on lockdown for the next eight years."

Qui-Gon scoffed, preparing to follow Bel-San inside. "Idle threats. You forget, I know you. You'll end up coming, and you'll have a great time, and all this moaning and groaning will be for nothing."

Before he could get his foot across the threshold, the slide doors clicked into place, and he could hear Bel-San shout through the plasteel, "This conversation is now over. I'm not going. And that's final."

It wasn't unusual for Bel-San to be the last one on board for a mission of this sort, but it didn't usually take this much effort for Qui-Gon to convince him to follow along with the plan. His friend was slowly beginning to develop a backbone. Qui-Gon allowed a small smile to cross his face, and he respectfully asked an older Jedi Master passing through the hallway if he might borrow his comlink for a moment. Qui-Gon keyed in Bel-San's number. He wasn't thwarted yet.

"Padawan Jacoba."

"You're packing, right? Because we're leaving in fifty minutes."

Bel-San sighed into the comlink. "Don't you have a life? Give it up, man. I'm not going."

"You just think you're not going. But deep down you know, you're going to walk out that door, we're going to walk down to the transport, and we've going to have a great time."

"This is me hanging up."

Qui-Gon handed back the comlink to its owner, and within less than a minute, he managed to borrow another passerby's comlink. He thought, and not for the first time, that it was truly amazing what others would do for you if you asked politely enough.

"If this is you, Qui-Gon, I'm hanging up. I'm not talking to you."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I know how to override your door. You're not really hiding."

Bel-San cut off his connection again, and Qui-Gon returned the comlink. Sometimes one had to take matters into one's own hands, he thought to himself as he punched in the emergency code to get into the apartment.

Bel-San stood at the door, his hands limply at his sides. "You are unbelievable! What is wrong with you?"

"Come on, you have to go. It won't be any fun if you're not there."

"I don't care. Fun is overrated, especially when you're involved."

"Fine. If you're not going, then none of us are going. It's as simple as that."

"Fine. Watch me not care."

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I don't know how I'm going to explain this to Payter and Mace. They really wanted to go. They were really looking forward to it. I don't know how I'm going to keep them from coming over here and kicking your ass when they find out we're not going. I don't think I'll be able to protect you from their wrath."

"Why are you so violent? We're not a violent order."

"That's just what they tell people who can't fight."

Bel-San's expression darkened, and Qui-Gon knew he'd insulted him. "I think you need to leave now."

"No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean that--you. Anyway, the point is, none of us are going if you don't go. You're the key to the whole trip. It'll be good for you. Why can't you just trust me on this?"

"Coming from you, that is not reassuring in the least. But you're forgetting the fundamental point--this is not about me. Sy-Mon said not to leave the Temple. That's a very simple and direct command. Don't leave the Temple. I'm not leaving the Temple. That's it."

"You see, Bel-San, you're not thinking like a Jedi. The Temple is not about the physical place. This,"--Qui-Gon patted the surface of the wall-- "this is nothing but a physical representation of an underlying concept. The Temple...it's not a physical entity. It's an idea, it's a principle. Jedi carry it with them wherever they go. The Jedi are the Temple. So you see, you can never truly leave the Temple, not if you're with other Jedi. It's all about the fellowship, man."

Bel-San shook his head. "You're explaining this little concept to Sy-Mon when we get back. How I didn't actually leave the Temple."

"Sure. Now pack. We're leaving in half an hour. And we are leaving. Don't try hiding, because I can find you."

"What? I said I would go. Calm down."

"I knew you'd see this my way. You're going to thank me for this."

"Yeah, I've heard that before," Bel-San said, rolling his eyes.

"It'll be different this time, honestly."

***

"We're going in that thing? Oh no." Bel-San started to back out of the hangar, but Qui-Gon maneuvered himself and his bag behind him to circumvent his departure.

"It's perfectly safe. We're going to be fine."

"It looks like a stiff breeze could knock it over."

"Then it's a good thing there are no breezes in space."

"You're missing my point. This thing is never, ever, listen carefully, ever, going to make it to Tocpe. Ever."

"You're such a pessimist. Payter wouldn't steer us wrong." Qui-Gon gave Payter a wave as he approached them.

"Damn straight. You ready to go?" Payter held a hydrospanner in his hand, gesturing towards the ship.

"How exactly did you get this ship?"

"I have my own means. Hey, why don't you take a look at the communications panel, just to make sure it's working okay."

Bel-San looked at them both, suspicion evident in his expression. "I'm not fooled," he said, but he moved away from them to inspect the panel.

"Nicely done," Qui-Gon said, lifting himself up slightly on his heels as he gave the ship an appreciative glance.

"That's what they pay me for."

Qui-Gon frowned. "You get paid? They never said you'd get paid!"

"Um, no. Why don't you get your stuff on board, we're leaving in a few minutes."

"Do I look like Bel-San?"

"I don't know, it's so easy to confuse you two. Go get your stuff."

"Where's Mace?" Qui-Gon asked.

"He's doing some last minute, you know, checks on the engine," Payter said evasively.

"I heard that!" Bel-San shouted.

"Are you sure he had to come?" Payter sighed, walking towards the ship.

"Well, he is helpful if the communications break down."

"So then...what exactly is your purpose on this trip?"

Qui-Gon slung his pack over his left shoulder, following behind Payter. "I'm the director of fun. It's a very important job, seeing how you all can't seem to have any without me."

"Yes. Right. Why you go direct yourself to the galley and...do whatever it is you directors of fun do."

"I think I will."

By the time Qui-Gon settled into the somewhat cramped galley, he could already hear the hyperdrive engines warming up. Payter ran through a series of last-minute checks, and then took his place in the cockpit, easing the ship into the air. Although Qui-Gon wondered for a moment if the ship was truly space-worthy enough to last the journey, he trusted Payter's judgement on such things. Within several minutes, he saw the vast expanse of Coruscant's cityscape passing by the scratched windows in the galley, and he smiled. They would be free, at least for a few days, and he reveled in that freedom. This trip was just what they all needed. Cresting through the atmosphere, Qui-Gon heard the hyperdrive engines engage, followed by the momentary surge as the ship rocketed out of Coruscant's airspace into the stars.

Bel-San walked into the galley, his eyes fixed on a readout panel across from where Qui-Gon sat. "I don't want to alarm anyone, but should that red light be flashing that way? Aren't red lights a signal of something bad?"

"Bel-San, calm down. It always blinks like that. Ask anyone. Even I know that light is supposed to be blinking."

"You don't know anything about ships! They're just big flying boxes that take you where you want to go."

"Hey. I took Astrophysics."

"Yeah, twice," Bel-San said.

"That means I know even more about it."

"Only the second time counts, the time when you passed."

"Payter," Qui-Gon called, "Will you please reassure him that the blinking light is supposed to be blinking?"

With the ship on auto-pilot, Payter walked into the galley, his mouth drawn tightly against his teeth. "Actually, I'm going to go check the engine. Mace, can you take off that panel there and make sure everything's okay? Bel-San, take a breath, it's going to be fine. Three of us in this room are quite qualified to keep this ship running."

"I'm fine. We're all fine here. Now. How are you?"

"I'll be right back," Payter said, ducking out of the low-ceilinged galley.

"I'm not going to say a word. Not a single, single word. Except I didn't want to come on this trip. I never did. We're probably going to explode here in the middle of space, bits and pieces of us floating all over the galaxy. I hope you're happy. Yeah, this is a lot of fun. It's great. Everything I ever dreamed of." Bel-San patted his cloak, looking for something. "I don't think I have my ulcer medication."'

Qui-Gon waved a hand in a vague gesture of calm. "We're fine. Nothing bad has even happened yet. It's just an old ship, that's all. Old doesn't equal bad. Our masters are old, but they're the most revered Jedi in the Order."

"I don't think this is the most revered ship in our fleet."

"It just makes the story of our trip that much more interesting."

"If we survive to tell it. Which we won't, when our masters get hold of us."

"It's always dire with you. You're always blowing things out of proportion."

Bel-San turned wide eyes on him. "No, I see them how they are. You delude yourself into thinking everything is fine!"

"And which of us is the better off for it?"

"Yeah. Well unlike you, I'm going to live to a ripe old age with ulcers and high blood pressure. You, on the other hand, are all, 'My name is Qui-Gon. I live in the moment. What's going on?" Bel-San slammed his hands together. "BAM! 'I'm dead? Why am I dead? I was living in the moment! Everything was fine in the moment!'" He gestured sharply. "Moment this!"

Qui-Gon paused before he spoke. "You've got problems, man. The amazing thing is, you've put so much though into that. Things are bad enough without you wishing stuff like that to happen."

"I don't wish, I know."

Payter's voice crackled through the ship's old communication system. "Um, guys, we may have a slight problem. Bel-San, do you think could come down here for a second?"

Bel-San closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "I told you. We're screwed. I hope you're happy. I hope this brings you light and joy to know that you've killed us all, and you're directly responsible."

"Don't you have a ship to be fixing?"

"No thanks to you."

"Yeah, I was down there before we left, pulling out wires and randomly hacking off pieces of the engine with my lightsaber. You know how I am. Mr. Destruction."

Bel-San rose to his feet. "It's not funny when you say it. I'm going now. So you can meditate on our imminent deaths."

Qui-Gon stood, although he felt slightly useless as he heard a series of furious curses issue from the engine bay, some from Mace's mouth, the others from Payter's. Loud banging echoed up from the back, and Qui-Gon heard the engines sputter, as if the were being held underwater. Moments later, Payter ran through the galley, jumping into his seat in the cockpit. "Guys! Strap yourselves in. We have to land this piece of--"

"I told you!" Bel-San shouted as Qui-Gon clicked the restraints into place over his shoulders in the nearest seat.

"Mace! Get us to the closest planet." The ship lurched, and Mace tore through the galley, clutching a small astromap.

Qui-Gon flicked a glance to Bel-San, who looked as though he was several seconds from hyperventilating, and then Payter's voice crackled through the com system, his tone strained. "Hold on. It's going to be a rough landing."

***

"Quit it."

Bel-San continued to stare at Qui-Gon, his expression irate. "I'm not doing anything. Like say, I don't know, kidnapping a good friend of mine, taking him on a ship built before the Republic started, crash landing him on the, what is this, the arctic tundra of some planet where no one lives apparently, where we're probably going to starve to death long before anyone finds us, mainly because we didn't tell anyone we were leaving, much less where we were going, or say, I don't know, ignoring my friend when he said he thought the trip was a bad idea...I didn't did any of that. Oh wait! That was you!"

"All right. Take a breath. The planet's not unpopulated. I saw a city when we were coming down."

Bel-San shook his head, rolling his eyes. Qui-Gon always tried to talk himself out of trouble, but this time, he wouldn't escape so easily. "Yeah, that makes it all better. Oh wait, no it doesn't."

"Okay. I get it. It's all me. I'm a horrible person, you should throw me in a dark pit with no food or water."

"That's not going to be much of a problem soon."

"Crash one ship, and you pay, and you pay, and you pay."

Bel-San took a breath to calm himself. "Don't take that martyr tone with me. Oh yeah, like you've never done that to us before. I think this is the second--"

"Third!" Payter shouted.

"--ship you've crashed in so many years."

"You act like this is my fault. I didn't make the ship old. I didn't pick it out. Who was that? Payter, do remember who that was?"

Payter stepped into the small chamber, his furry hands coated with dark grease. "That's not the point. You can't pass the blame off on me. This whole thing was your idea. That means you get exclusive rights to the responsibility. And the failure associated with it."

Qui-Gon threw his hands up in the air. "Yes. It's all me. I am the evil one. I am the next in line to be the next Sith lord. It's all my fault. Everything from the beginning of time is all my fault. I'll be you didn't know I was the cause of everything that's gone wrong in your lives. Bel-San, I'm the reason you're short."

"Hey!"

"Mace, I'm the reason you're ugly."

Mace narrowed his dark eyes into angry slits. "Listen, you motherf--"

"Payter, I'm--" Qui-Gon began, but Payter cut him off.

"Don't go there. I'll kick your ass. No questions asked."

"So are you going to stand around and blame me all day or are you going to fix the ship I broke? Because we all know I can't do it. I just break 'em, I don't fix 'em."

"Don't be bitter, Qui-Gon. That's our job now." Mace turned away to walk into the engine bay, and Payter followed behind him.

Bel-San resumed his tinkering with the com system. He knew his efforts were futile, but it was better to attempt to fix it than listen to Qui-Gon's excuses.

"So, do you need any help?"

Bel-San remained silent, his eyes focused on the warped wires underneath the com panel.

"Do you need any help?"

"Do you hear the words coming out of my mouth?"

Bel-San continued to disregard his presence. Qui-Gon leaned on the edge of the panel. "You can't ignore me you, know. You might try, but you're not going to succeed. You will succumb. Eventually, you'll have to answer me."

"Payter!" Bel-San shouted, trying to force a broken piece of equipment back into place. "Can you please come kill Qui-Gon? I can't get any work done in here."

Payter returned his call wearily. "Qui-Gon, don't make me kill you. I can make it look like an accident, you know."

"What is this? Gang up on Qui-Gon day? You people are supposed to be my friends, honestly."

"Yeah, well, friends don't let friends get each other in these sorts of messes," Payter said, emerging from the back once again, his hands even dirtier than before.

"Fine. I'm going to go outside and see if the local plant life feels like mocking me as well." Qui-Gon slapped the airlock open, and he stalked outside the ship, the door closing behind him.

"Don't you think you're being a little hard on him?" Payter asked, wiping his hands on a clean rag.

Bel-San swore under his breath as another piece of communication system snapped off in his hand. "Let me think, really really hard. Um, no. Not at all. He's a big jerk, and he got us into this mess, and I have a right to be pissed off. As do we all."

"All right, I'm just saying. It's hard enough as it is without you taunting him. I'm not saying it's not funny, but you might want to ease off."

"I'll get right on that."

Payter sighed. "You know, we can't let him know, but this whole thing isn't entirely his fault. Just most of it."

"I'm well aware. But the point is, I didn't want to come, and I stated that repeatedly, but my words fell on deaf ears. And now, he has to pay."

"All right. I'm heading back to help Mace. But I have a feeling we're going to have to make a trip to the settlement we saw. I don't think we have all the parts we need to fix this."

Bel-San eased himself from underneath the panel, craning his neck to look up at Payter. "I think you're right. I think the communications are completely down. It looks like some of the wiring up here is fried too. You think you'll be able to find what you need?"

"We're resourceful young Jedi. I'm sure we can throw something together."

"That wasn't designed to make me feel good."

"All right, Bel-San, how about this? I'm certain that everything's going to be just fine. We're going to find everything we need in the settlement, and the ship is going to run better than it did ten years ago."

Bel-San gave the panel cover a light kick. "Now you're just mocking me."

"Hang in there. I think Mace and I are going to head out. You stay here with Qui-Gon and keep him out of trouble."

"I don't know. That's an awfully big responsibility to place on my tiny short shoulders."

"Don't be bitter. We'll be back soon."

"Do you have something to barter with?"

"Please. I haven't had to barter with anything for years." Payter's face split in a half-smile, his sharp teeth glinting. "I don't think I'm going to have much trouble convincing them to give us what we need. Mace can do the talking, and I'll just look intimidating."

"All right. I'll hold down the fort."

***

Bel-San sighed, snapping shut his comlink. The atmosphere of the planet wouldn't allow its weaker signal to pass through, and even though he knew this, he'd been trying for the last half hour. His inspection of the communications systems revealed years of neglect, and short of removing it completely and tossing it outside, there was nothing he could do to fix it. Kicking his legs up on the console, he sat back in his chair, closing his eyes. Maybe he could at least get some sleep before the others returned.

Drifting quite comfortably close to slumber, he was nearly asleep when a disturbance ran through the Force. Bel-San opened one eye and looked around. He didn't hear anything, but he couldn't shake the feeling something was about to go wrong.

The way this trip had been going, he thought ruefully, it wouldn't be much of a surprise. A great crash resounded from the back of the ship, and Bel-San felt a wave of alarm pass through the Force, followed by a dull wash of pain. Pushing himself up out of the seat with both hands, he dashed down the narrow corridor.

Despite the Force's warning, he was unprepared for the scene that met him as he ran into the engine bay. Qui-Gon lay pinned beneath the hyperdrive unit, and the hastily constructed platform he'd erected to hold it in place lay scattered in pieces throughout the room.

Bel-San grabbed hold of the door frame, frozen in place. "Qui-Gon?"

"Nice to know that you're talking to me again."

"What did you do?"

"I don't think that really matters right now, but it would be really helpful if you could get this off of me."

Bel-San swallowed hard, shaken. "Um, um, yeah. Yeah. Okay. I can do that."

"Are you with me here?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Um." Bel-San stopped speaking, his voice stuck in his throat. He couldn't seem to get enough air in his lungs.

Qui-Gon's voice sounded strained. "You have to get this off of me, man. Come on. Take a breath. You can do this."

"I know. Okay. Yeah."

"All right. Come on. Come stand over here and move it. Move it with the Force. You've done it a thousand times. It's no different."

"Are you sure I should move it?"

"Yes. Hurry. It's kind of hard to breathe, and I don't think what's left of the support is going to last much longer."

"Oh. Yeah. No pressure or anything, Qui-Gon. Okay. All right." Bel-San slowly let go of the door frame, stepping across the debris that lay strewn around the hyperdrive. Summoning up every ounce of focus he possessed, he gathered the Force to him and began lifting the large piece of machinery. The hyperdrive eased into the air, hovering for only a moment above his friend when Qui-Gon let out a cry.

Bel-San stopped immediately, and the hyperdrive dipped down several centimeters before Bel-San caught it. "What? What did I do?"

Qui-Gon didn't reply for a moment and he winced in pain. "Just get it off."

Bel-San jerked the hyperdrive higher into the air, pushing it off to the side, and set it down as gently as possible. He turned his attention back to Qui-Gon, and he sucked in a gasp. Crossing the room, he stood by Qui-Gon's side, his gaze fixed on the deep puncture in his friend's chest.

Qui-Gon's bloodied chest shuddered. "Is it that bad?"

Bel-San couldn't even form the words. He wanted to be supportive, but he couldn't see how his friend was still alive, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would stay that way.

"Bel-San? Talk to me here."

"Part of the hyperdrive...kind of made a hole...and I should probably be doing something..." Bel-San dropped to his knees, his hands flat against the floor, Qui-Gon's warm blood pooling underneath his fingertips.

"I don't think...are you...can you--" Bel-San's breath caught in his chest, and he couldn't breathe. It felt as though his throat had been packed with cloth.

"Bel-San. It's not fair. Only one of us shouldn't be able to breathe here, and it's not you." Qui-Gon's voice sounded weak and distant.

"You can't breathe?" Bel-San gasped, the band tightening around his chest.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, tiny lines of pain forming around them. "I think it went. . . through my lung. You need to calm down and help me."

"But--"

"No. You can do this. Take a breath. Do you have your inhaler?"

"Um, I don't know."

"Calm down. Release it to the Force; it's going to be okay. But I need you now. I can't do this by myself."

"Okay. Okay." Bel-San closed his eyes, blocking his awareness of the scene before him. Releasing his anxieties to the Force as best he could, he still felt remnants of his lingering panic chasing through his mind.

Opening his eyes again, he tried to distance himself from what he was about to do. He shifted his hands to Qui-Gon's chest, placing them gently around the wound. Although he wasn't a trained Healer, he'd had the opportunity to study as one when he was still making his choice between Teaching and Healing. Drawing on the Force and his few month's experience with the Healers, he traced the injuries through Qui-Gon's body, trying to determine what he could Heal with the Force and what would have to be attended to physically.

"Okay. Here's the deal. The reason you're having trouble breathing is because some of your ribs are broken, and a piece of the hyperdrive collapsed your lung. Your heart isn't pumping enough blood, so the first thing I need to do is equalize the pressure in your chest. And I. . .I can't do that with the Force. I'm going to have to put a tube in your chest. So what I need you to do is go into the deepest mediation you can, to conserve your strength. You need to slow your body down as much as possible to give me time to help you."

"I changed my mind. I don't want to be on this trip anymore," Qui-Gon said weakly, pain evident in his expression.

Bel-San smoothed his hand over Qui-Gon's forehead with a sigh. "I know. But I'm going to help you, okay?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, and Bel-San laid his hands on Qui-Gon's temples, issuing the strongest Force suggestion he could to help Qui-Gon ease into unconsciousness. Pressing his fingers into Qui-Gon's neck, he waited until he felt his friend's pulse slow before he rose quickly to his feet, not wanting to leave his side for more than a few moments. Bel-San knew there was a medpac up front, and he would need its contents to aid Qui-Gon.

***

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to absolutely kill him." Payter shifted the pack onto his other shoulder.

"We don't know he did anything."

"We're talking about Qui-Gon. We know he did something. Enough to send Bel-San panicking."

"Payter, lunch is enough to send Bel-San into a panic. We don't know anything. We just have to get back. Quickly."

"Do you want to carry this? Because I'm pretty sure the stuff you're carrying is a lot lighter."

Mace sighed. "That wasn't a comment about your speed. But I think we need to get back."

"And that's what I was saying. I'm going to kill him."

"Maybe everything's fine. Maybe Bel-San--"

Payter grunted. "Just stop. You sound like an idiot. Don't try to convince yourself of something you know isn't true. Something went wrong, and it was bad, and I'm going to kill him."

"Well, you know of course, that only works if he's not already dead."

"Shut up! We would know if that happened."

"Which is why I should be able to joke about it without you freaking out on me."

Payter shook his head, shifting the load over to his other shoulder. "We're almost there."

"You really need to calm down before we get in there. We don't know what we're going to find."

He fixed his gaze on Mace, tempting the other man to say more. "I'm fine. This is me calm. You've never seen me upset."

"You're so full of shit."

"Say that to me when I don't have two hundred pounds of equipment in my hands, and you might find yourself in for a little pain."

"Whatever. I'll say it to you whenever I want. I've known you since you were eight. I've seen you upset. Just because you don't freak out like Bel-San doesn't mean you're not upset."

"Something could have happened to the ship. There's only so much I can do to fix it, and if they--"

"Oh yeah, your concern for the ship is admirable. I'm sure that's exactly what you're thinking of."

"Why don't you shut up and keep your mind on walking."

"Whatever."

Payter quickened his pace until he moved several steps ahead of Mace, keeping the other Jedi out of view. Although the bonds he had with Qui-Gon and Bel-San were relatively slight, what he had sensed was enough to convince him that whatever had happened was desperate in nature. Whatever it was that awaited them inside the ship, he wanted to spare Mace the initial exposure. It wasn't that he didn't think Mace could handle it, but Payter had much more experience with what they were likely to find.

Even though he'd been preparing himself, the sight of both of his friends sprawled on the blood-covered floor still startled him. Qui-Gon's cloak lay draped over him, and Payter crossed the room to kneel beside him. Lifting the edge of the cloak, he jerked back in surprise at the sight of the slim, clear tube protruding from between Qui-Gon's ribs. On the right side of his chest, Payter found a deep puncture wound, no longer bleeding but far from healed. Bewildered, he turned around, hoping to discover the source of the injury. His gaze fell on the upturned hyperdrive engine, and he spied a sharp edge coated in blood.

"How the hell..." Payter leaned closer, watching Qui-Gon's chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. He was thankful Qui-Gon was still breathing, although his thready pulse and the pallor of his skin indicated he'd lost a lot of blood.

"What the hell?" Payter heard Mace's hissing breath behind him, and he glanced quickly in his friend's direction.

"My thoughts exactly. Stay with him. I'm going to check Bel-San."

Bel-San slumped against the wall closest to Qui-Gon, his knees drawn tight against his chest, arms dangling limply between his knees. Dried vomit crusted around the collar of his tunic, and Payter knew Bel-San had pushed himself far beyond his limits. Payter crouched beside him, touching his shoulder lightly. "Bel-San?"

Hazy blue eyes met his own as Bel-San looked up slowly, blinking. "It's good you're here."

"Yeah. What happened?"

"I don't know. He was trying to fix the engine. The platform broke and it fell. On him." Bel-San's voice spoke quietly and deliberately, as if he was speaking to a child. "I don't feel so good."

"How long were you helping him with the Force?"

"I don't know. He wasn't breathing and I had to help him. I think he'll be okay now. Is he still okay?"

Payter rested his hand on Bel-San's shoulder, feeding some of his own energy into Bel-San to keep him talking. He needed to know what had happened, and he didn't think Bel-San was going to remain conscious much longer. "You did a good job, Bel-San. But why is there a tube in his chest?"

Bel-San's expression grew slightly less vacant as his weary body accepted the quick burst of energy. "I couldn't fix it...with the Force. He'll be okay. I learned it from the Healers. He should probably see them, though. Do you have the stuff to fix the ship? We need to leave."

"Okay, buddy. We're going to fix the ship. I think you need to sleep."

"Oh." Bel-San closed his eyes, slumping to the floor. "Are you sure you don't need my help?"

"I think you've helped enough today. You need to rest, or you're going to get sick again."

"I don't want that."

"None of us do." Payter unfastened his outer robe, rolling it deftly and easing it underneath Bel-San's head. "Sleep now."

Rising to his feet, Payter turned to Mace and began unpacking the equipment they'd acquired. "All right, Mace. Let's get this done."

***

Qui-Gon watched Bel-San look down at his chrono, perched on the edge of his bed. "The Healer said he'd be right back to release me. That was ten minutes ago. I thought they taught time in this place."

"At least you get to leave."

"Hmm. Maybe because I don't have a giant hole through my chest."

"It's not really a hole anymore. I'm practically better."

"For all the good it does us. You'll just go out tomorrow and tear yourself up again. Are you seeing the pattern here?" Bel-San said, his tone quiet.

"It was an accident."

"Isn't it always. So what have we learned from this little escapade?"

"Make one little mistake and you never stop hearing about it."

"Okay. So you think this was a little mistake." Bel-San stood, turning away from him. "I'm leaving. I don't have to be subjected to your stupidity."

"What are you trying to say here?"

"I'm saying you're stupid. I thought that was pretty clear."

Qui-Gon recoiled slightly. "That's a little harsh."

"You nearly died," Bel-San said, his voice gathering strength. "You were nearly dead. You stopped breathing. Do you understand that you could be dead now?"

Several moments passed before Qui-Gon answered him. "Yes."

"Then why are you being such an idiot about this? I nearly watched you die. What if I hadn't been able to do anything? What if it hadn't been enough?"

"But it was. And I'm fine."

"That's not the point."

"Fine." Qui-Gon sighed, wincing as the air passed out of him. "You want to yell at me, go ahead. You obviously have something you want to say, so go ahead."

"You don't get it. Qui-Gon, you take these risks and you do these things and you don't think."

"What, you think I just propped the hyperdrive up and climbed under it for no reason? Is that what you think?"

Bel-San crossed his arms over his chest. "That's what it looks like from here. You know you can't fix ships, you know that. If Payter and Mace couldn't do it with the parts they had, then what exactly did you think you were going to accomplish?"

"Well, obviously I had to do something, because obviously it was all my fault. Which you, and certain other parties, told me repeatedly. Did I mention repeatedly? Because you told me a lot."

"So basically, you were feeling like a martyr, and you thought you'd screw around with things you don't understand to prove a point." Bel-San turned away, then spun on his heel to face him again. "No wait. To prove us wrong."

"Why do you think I don't understand them?"

"Wow, I think the most obvious answer would be, because you don't. And don't try to change the subject. You wanted us to be wrong. And so you set it up with faulty equipment to fix it on your own and you nearly died."

Qui-Gon held up a hand, feeling irritation surge through him. "No wait, let me get this straight. You think I have a death wish, and you think I'd go so far to prove you wrong that I would get myself killed."

"I don't know, man. It looks like that from here."

Qui-Gon tried to sit up, but the pain in his chest prevented him. He suppressed a groan, and Bel-San rolled his eyes as he moved to his side.

"This is what I'm talking about. You're doing it again. You're hurting yourself to prove a point, when you know you're wrong. It's okay to be wrong. And in this case, you are. Very. Incredibly. Did I mention how wrong you are? I think you could probably say it, without the universe collapsing in on itself."

Qui-Gon settled on his back again, taking quick, shallow breaths to ease the pain coursing through his body. "I thought you said you were leaving."

"Fine. You know what, that's just fine. You lay here and live in your happy little world where you're right and the rest of us are out to get you, and that's fine. And the next time, don't involve me. Because there are certain things in my life that I need, and watching you die isn't one of them."

"I wasn't going to die, Bel-San," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh really? Were you there yesterday? Did you happen to notice the large piece of metal sticking out of your body? Were you the one with your own blood all over your hands? Were you the one who had to stick a tube into your chest? Were you there when you stopped breathing? Were you the one who's been asleep for the past twenty-four hours because you dumped enough Force energy into you to keep you alive until we got back? Oh wait. That was me. And it didn't look like you were going to make it. There's a reason I didn't become a Healer, Qui-Gon, and this is it."

Qui-Gon met his stare coolly. "Are you finished?"

"Apparently."

"You know, I didn't plan for this to happen," Qui-Gon said quietly, breaking the silence. "I don't plan for these things to happen."

"But you don't listen," Bel-San said, his hands falling to his sides. "I told you this trip was a bad idea. And I know I'm not as strong in the Force as you and Mace and Payter, but I do get feelings now and then, and you never listen."

"You said you didn't want to go because Sy-Mon wouldn't let you leave the planet, not because you thought something bad would happen." Qui-Gon stopped, trying to catch his breath. "Those are two very different scenarios."

"Would it have mattered? If I told you, flat out, that something bad would happen if we went on this trip, you would have gone anyway, wouldn't you?"

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to deny the claim, but Bel-San silenced him.

"Don't. Just don't. You know what? I really should just get used to not having you around. The next mission you're on, it'll be good that I won't see you for awhile, because it will allow me to prepare myself. Because one of these days, you're not going to come back. Right now, Yoda is all that stands between you and the ramifications of your mistakes. But in a year or two, he'll be out of the picture, and you'll be a Knight on your own, making your own choices. And you're going to get yourself killed trying to prove some stupid point because you won't let it go. You refuse to be wrong, and you take unnecessary risks and it's going to get you killed. So it's probably better for me to get my distance now."

Qui-Gon watched him leave, Bel-San's shorter form passing through the doorway of his infirmary room into the darkness of the corridor. He sighed, shifting slightly on his side. Bel-San always blew things out of proportion.

As soon as he closed his eyes, he sensed another form coming into his chamber. Its familiarity soothed his senses momentarily, but then he flicked his eyes open, suddenly aware that his Master would probably not have many comforting words for him.

"Feeling better, Padawan?" His Master crossed the room slowly, tapping his gimmer stick across the tiled floor.

"Yes, Master."

"Good that is. However, leaving in an hour I am for the mission we were supposed to carry out together. Well enough to go, you will not be. Be gone for a month I will be. Therefore, stay here you will. Scrub rocks in the Meditation Garden you will. Teach you prudence, I will, if kill me it does."

"I think I might get that lesson in less than a month, Master."

His Master smacked the edge of his bed with his stick, a grim expression on his lined face. "Take much more than a month it will. Take the rest of my life it will, sure I am of this. Live very long I will. Lucky for you that is."

"I'm sorry, Master," Qui-Gon said wearily.

"Apologize you should not if know not what it is you're apologizing for. Thank Padawan Jacoba you should."

Qui-Gon tensed involuntarily. Even when he didn't tell his Master about his personal problems, the elder Jedi always seemed to infer them regardless. "Master, I--"

"Rest, you will." Master Yoda held up a hand. "In a month will I see you."

***

Mace crossed the common room silently, sliding into the empty seat across from his Master. Few Jedi wanted to cross Fariah Reon, especially her padawan. She raised her gaze to met him, her hands folded before her, a passive expression on her face. He knew that expression well. She was not happy. And very soon, he wasn't going to be either.

"So. Did you have a nice trip?" Her voice was dangerously soft.

"Um, I--"

"Do you think I really want to know?"

"I was just--"

"Do you really want to try to explain this, or should we skip right to the part where I punish you?"

"Would it help at all if I explained, Master?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to be scrubbing rocks in the Meditation Garden for the rest of my life."

"Very astute observation."

"Should I go now?"

"That would be a wise decision. Perhaps the wisest decision you've made in a long time."

Mace rose to his feet, anxious to be out of her presence. "Yes, Master. How long should I stay there?"

"You can come home to sleep, but other than that, I guess I won't be seeing much of you. You can stop scrubbing rocks when I get tired. Does that sound fair to you?"

"Yes, Master." Mace dropped his chin to his chest, moving towards the door.

"Then we're agreed. Have a nice evening. I'll see you when I see you."

***

"Did you talk to your Master?"

Payter sighed. "Yes."

"And what did he say?"

"That I should see you."

"Exactly. We need to have a talk. Now, when you signed up for this program, we agreed that there would be certain actions that you would take that would be outside the realm of regular Jedi experience. But along with those actions comes a certain level of responsibility. In fact a very high level of responsibility. Because there are going to be times when you're going to be by yourself in situations where all you have to hold onto is your own code. And yesterday, I get a message about you, and it doesn't make me happy."

"I can explain," Payter said, lifting a furry hand.

"I certainly hope so."

"See, it was all Qui-Gon."

His mentor clicked his tongue. "Right there, you have a fundamental problem, because from what I heard, there were four of you involved."

"There were. But it was his idea--"

"Payter, let me give you some good advice. You should stop this explanation right now. I don't care what Qui-Gon did. I care what you did. Because I'm pretty sure that Qui-Gon didn't get that ship. And I'm pretty sure that you were the one that left him there knowing him the way you do."

Payter scoffed, looking away. "It's not my fault that he climbed under the hyperdrive."

"But it is your responsibility, because of who you are and what you do. You take care of Jedi. The Jedi take care of everyone else, but you take care of Jedi. You follow?"

"But how was I supposed to know that--"

"It's your job. You had everything right there in front of you. You know what he's like, you know how he works. You should have been able to predict his behavior."

"That's insane," Payter said, a growl tingeing his voice. "That's impossible."

"That's what you signed up for. If you think this job is easy, you're sadly mistaken. If you're only in it for the cool ships and the dark allure, then you need to get out right now. Before you waste any more of my time."

"So you're saying, if Qui-Gon had died, I would have been held responsible for it."

"Yes. Because you're supposed to know better than to let him get in a situation where he could kill himself. Because you have more specialized training than any of the other three. You know things that they don't. And they're your friends, and you weren't looking out for them. And if I can't trust you to take care of your friends, how can I trust you to take care of Jedi you don't know?"

His mentor fixed his gaze on Payter's face, and Payter tried not to squirm under the scrutiny. "What do you mean? I was the one that got us home. I was the one that fixed the ship."

"And you did a very fine job. I'm not discounting that. But the point is, you could have prevented the entire thing."

"And how exactly would you propose I do that?"

His mentor's lean frame turned away from him. "I'm not here to argue with you. If you have a problem with this, then you need to think about it. I'm not here to answer all the questions for you; they're not easy, and they're not a matter of black and white. I'm not here to baby-sit, and I'm not going to hold your hand, and I'm not your Master. If you want answers, you'll have to find someone else. I think we're done. You need to let me know when you want to get back to work."

Before Payter could open his mouth, his mentor was out the door, and only silence remained in the small chamber.

***

"I just brewed a pot of tea. Do you want some?"

Bel-San eased onto the couch in the common room, accepting the warm mug gratefully from his Master. "Thank you."

"I trust you're feeling better."

"I'm much better today."

"I was worried for you. But the Healers assured me you'd be fine." His Master sipped at his tea, reaching out to stroke the soft fur of the most recent cat to find a home in his lap. "That was quite an accomplishment, from all accounts. You would have made a fine Healer. But selfishly, I find I'm very happy you chose to be a scholar. Who would I study with?" His Master gave him a small smile.

"I'm glad someone appreciates me around here," Bel-San said quietly.

"I was also happy to hear that Qui-Gon will recover. I'm sure that must be a great relief to you all."

Bel-San had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "He'll be fine until the next time he does something stupid."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

As always, his Master's calm voice soothed his frazzled nerves, and Bel-San found himself opening his mouth, his thoughts tumbling out. "He's so irritating. He doesn't understand. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I hadn't been there."

His Master nodded serenely. "Qui-Gon still has some learning to do. That's the reason he's still a padawan. Yoda won't make him a knight until he's sure Qui-Gon can handle things on his own. And it's important that you're there to show him his weaknesses, and help him through them."

"How did I get assigned to this glorious mission?"

"Because he's your friend. And he does the same for you." His Master paused, sipping at his tea. "I know that Qui-Gon can frustrate you, but he relies on you more than anyone else."

"Yeah. He relies on me to pull him back from the brink of death but not enough for him to listen to me when I tell him he's too close to the edge."

"He's young. He'll calm down. Just like you will."

"Upset?" Bel-San said tersely, his mug shaking in his hand. "Who's upset? I'm not upset. I'm calm. I'm very calm."

"It's not wise to delude yourself. I've learned this from experience."

"Okay. Maybe I'm a little upset. But I think I have a right to be."

"No one's denying that. But don't let your anger keep you apart, because friendships are important, and this one is too important to throw away over something so simple."

"I don't think that death is very simple." He sighed, meeting the older Jedi's gaze. "But I understand what you're saying, Master."

"Good. I'm glad we have that settled. Now. Perhaps you would care to explain why it is that you left the planet when I specifically asked you not to?"

"There was something Qui-Gon said...he said he'd explain it to you...about how the Jedi are Temple, and it's just a metaphysical idea, and how I wasn't really leaving the Temple as long as I was with other Jedi...but basically, they bullied me into it."

His Master nodded. "I thought as much, and I can't say I'm surprised. You need to learn how to stand up to them. Why don't you meditate on that for awhile, and later this evening, I'd like you to help me with some research."

"Yes, Master."

"And Padwan," his Master said softly, "Despite the fact you circumvented my instruction, I'm proud of you."

***

"I hope you're happy." Mace wiped his hand across his forehead.

"Yeah. Thrilled. Absolutely."

"This is your fault."

"I think we went over this yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, but I can't be really sure, because I was bleeding and unconscious then," Qui-Gon pointed out, scrubbing absently at a speck of dirt that marred a white rock's perfect surface.

"That was your fault too."

"Shouldn't you be meditating on something other than placing the blame on me? I thought you learned something from this."

"Yeah, I'm never going anywhere with you ever again," Mace said, snorting.

"You're such a liar. You'll miss me too much."

"Speaking of meditating and learning a lesson, don't you have some rocks to scrub?"

"Not really," Qui-Gon said with a sigh. "They're still pretty clean from where I scrubbed them yesterday."

"Yeah, I noticed that. You're lucky Yoda's off planet. Fariah has a penchant for stopping by to check my progress."

Qui-Gon couldn't repress a sly smile. "That's because she knows you're a slacker."

"You know, I don't have any qualms about hitting injured people, especially people who bring pain onto themselves, and especially when they're you."

"I really think this whole thing has gotten blown out of proportion. It's not like it's the first time we've had to scrub rocks. You'd think we'd be used to it."

"The seventh years came in and laughed at me earlier. This is a punishment they give to first year padawans. If any Council members come in and see me in here, I might as well throw away my chances of ever being on the Council."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Mace. You should calm down. It's just your life. Who wants to be on the Council anyway? Other than you."

"You know," Mace said, looking around the spacious Garden, "I'm noticing a distinct lack of both Payter and Bel-San. This does not make me happy."

"Bel-San never gets in trouble. And Payter, well, his life is sort of his punishment."

"Are you saying you don't want them here scrubbing rocks with us?"

"Well, no. But if you're looking for some sort of pattern of fairness in all this, you're not going to find one."

"How reassuring."

A voice spoke from behind them, and Qui-Gon turned to face the speaker.

"I think you missed one," Bel-San smiled, his hands tucked into his sleeves.

"The only thing that keeps me from throwing this rock at you is the knowledge that I'll have to stay here longer than I already do," Mace said, his voice little more than a snarl.

"That's a shame. Of course you know, this entire thing could have been avoided if you'd, oh, I don't know, listened to me. But who am I? Who am I? I'm just little short Bel-San, resident scholar. But you'll note, I'm not scrubbing rocks right now."

"If Sy-Mon were a hundred years younger, you'd have a much tougher time of it." Qui-Gon said, pointing his scrub brush in Bel-San's direction.

"Sy-Mon's never been lax in making me scrub rocks in here when he thought it was the proper punishment." Bel-San shrugged. "Of course, in those cases, I did something wrong, as opposed to this time, when I am completely and utterly blameless."

Qui-Gon resumed his scrubbing, allowing irritation to seep into his voice. "We have work to do. You shouldn't be bothering us."

He saw Bel-San flinch, but his friend recovered quickly. "Okay, fine. I just thought I'd drop by, see how you're doing, since you were nearly dead two days ago, but I guess I did a good job." He turned away, giving them both an unforgiving half-smile. "Well, have fun. I woke up at noon, but I'm still tired. I think I'm going to go take a nap."

Mace watched Bel-San's silhouette disappear through the Garden entrance, then looked at Qui-Gon. "He's a vindictive little shit, isn't he?"

--end--