Payter strode down the hallways of the Temple, not bothering to resist the urge to massage his temples as he went. He knew he looked frayed, but he didn’t care enough to try and pull the mask of Jedi serenity around himself. Some days, more in recent weeks, just never seemed to stop; he ran from one crisis to another, and then bounded off to smooth something out somewhere else. He could see why his mentor had stopped taking jobs a few years after he’d seen Payter knighted. There were times when he didn’t know if he’d make it to the end of Kerge’s apprenticeship.

Spotting the door he wanted, Payter didn’t even bother knocking. Qui-Gon never had his door coded to lock anyway. It seemed stupid to Payter, but Qui-Gon had always been more trusting than he should have been. The door slid open at his touch and Payter stalked in, tracking Qui-Gon to the kitchen where the man was sitting at the table, a mug in his hand.

“No, don’t bother to get up. And you’ll probably not want to say hello after I say what I’ve come to say. I don’t have a lot of time and from what I hear you’re being particularly stubborn, so I’ll make this short and excruciatingly clear. Stop being a selfish, whining child. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us have. You’re being an ass. Alla tried to do this the polite way, and I’ll certainly give her credit for it, because Force knows I don’t have the patience to baby you when you’re like this. I know you’re hurting, we all know you’re hurting. You’re fighting with Bel-San, and he’s too wrapped up with what’s going to happen to the native boy for him to notice you much. That must be hard. Whatever. Bel-San is a big, grown up Jedi and I’m certain he can deal, and if he can’t, he’s in the perfect place for the Healers to help him deal. Your padawan, on the other hand. is not so big, not so grown up and not yet a Jedi, and he needs you to help him deal. Are you even paying attention to the bond you have with him?”

He could see Qui-Gon’s mind quickly turning away from the conversation and only Payter’s fast speech kept the other Jedi from breaking in with denials or requests for Payter to leave.

“Let me put this another way. I’ll tell you a little story, a bit of a history, if you will. Remember a couple months ago, not so long that you can’t bring it to mind, there was this new master who wasn’t very apt at looking after his padawan. In fact, I think it was you who tried to intervene on more than one occasion when he tried to put his own needs before that of his padawan. Now look to today. So stop feeling sorry for yourself, Rian, and go get your padawan. Because I tell you what, if you don’t, I will, and you’ll have a lot harder fight to get him back than you ever did getting him from the Council in the first place. You have to the end of the day. Do your job. Or I’ll do it for you.”

Payter turned and stalked from the room, leaving Qui-Gon with a stunned and offended expression. Frankly, unless the man was bleeding profusely on the floor, Payter didn’t really care what he was doing. He hated when he had to pull that kind of stunt with Qui-Gon, but sometimes that man was too stubborn by half and they all knew that if Bel-San wasn’t around to say what had to be said, Payter could. Qui-Gon would hold a grudge longer against him than he would Bel-San, but Payter was past the point of caring. He had other things to be seen to before the end of the day.

But first he needed to make sure his own padawan had eaten and was prepared for the exam he had in the afternoon.

He found Kerge lying on the floor of their common room, datapads spread out around him, his chin on his fists and an intent expression on his face. Taking in his padawan’s appearance with a quick eye, he shook his head. “Remind me to cut your hair sometime and order you some new tunics. Your arms are sticking two inches out of your sleeves.”

“Yes, master.” Kerge looked up at him and frowned. “I hope you’re coming home to rest.”

With a sigh, Payter held up a hand. “I don’t really want to go over this conversation with you again, padawan. I’ll rest when I have the time. There are other things to be done. Did you eat?”

“I did, and there’s some left over for you if you want.” Kerge’s eyes followed him as he dropped down on their couch. His attempt at subtlety was sadly lacking.

“Later. How’s the studying?”

His padawan regarded him a moment longer and Payter stared right back, waiting for the boy to back down. “Fine. It’s not hard. Did you do something about the guy in the supply closest of the ship yet?”

“Let me know how you do and I’ll talk to your instructors about the other levels you’re ready to test on. As for our prisoner, I just dropped him into the hands of a very competent individual. The information she gets from him will be forwarded to me as soon as it’s ready and the Council will have its modified report in a few days. I think the time in isolation made him more than willing to talk.”

Kerge’s mouth twisted down. “Do you think the fact that you forgot to feed him for a while had something to do with it?”

“I didn’t forget.”

“Oh.”

Growling, Payter tried to release some of his anger about that man. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking he deserves better, padawan. He knew exactly what the risks were when he took on the jobs he did. When you do illegal things, you always live with the knowledge that some day someone will come to take you out. He’s lucky that we needed his information.”

His padawan looked away for a moment, rearranging his datapads as he accepted the information and tried to process it. It would take a while, Payter knew. He’d certainly struggled with his place within the Jedi Order and the Code for years, up until he was knighted, and he would have expected nothing less of Kerge. “What about master Qui-Gon?”

“Why don’t you worry about the things you need to worry about and let me deal with everything else for right now? You won’t have that luxury for long, padawan. I suggest you take advantage of it.”

Kerge shrugged and turned his attention back to his texts. “Will you at least keep a comlink on you so when you pass out from exhaustion and hunger I’ll be able to send someone after you?”

He stood, distantly proud that Kerge didn’t even blink at his sudden move, and stepped over the boy on his way out the door. “Watch your mouth, padawan.”

Of all the places he’s been in the galaxy and the things he’d seen, the Temple Infirmary was still one of his least favorites. To him, it personified his failure. If someone ended up in there, he hadn’t been doing his job. It didn’t matter if that Jedi had been under his direct care or not, he still carried the guilt of the injury on his shoulders. When someone he knew or cared about lay within the walls of the infirmary, it was all he could do to make himself go visit, not only because he hated to see the pain, but because Payter spent a good deal of his time keeping tabs on his friends to make sure they were as safe as they could be. And in this case, this was the third time Bel-San had nearly died while on a mission: the first had been when Sy-Mon had lost his life, then on the trip to Destricore, and now again.

What good was all of his training and their instincts as an Order if they couldn’t keep even one Jedi safe?

Nodding to the guard who stood at Bel-San’s door, Payter stepped inside and clenched his fist at the sight before him. The young Teacher was curled in a ball on his bed, which had been pushed to the far side of the room, tucked in a corner. Monitors were no longer attached to his person, but machinery was still within the room to feed Bel-San fluids and medicine.

He didn’t even look up as the door opened.

Pulling a chair to Bel-San’s bedside, Payter sighed. He’d heard from the Healers that they thought it wouldn’t be long before the tribesman let go his hold on this plane. The damage from the attack should have healed, and it was nothing they could explain physically, but anyone who took the time to look at him could see that he ached for his people and the loss of his home.

“I don’t think I can go back.”

His voice little more than a whisper, Payter leaned forward when Bel-San spoke. “Where?”

“How can I spend my days with the children, teaching them and leading them through their lessons when I know this is what waits for them on the other side? Knowing they can’t stop the death and destruction, the cruelty? That the best they can do is hold it off for a time, maybe save a single life when so, so many others will be lost. I can’t go back to teaching them, Payter. I won’t. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“If that’s what you want.” Honestly, he’d been expecting a statement of this kind from Bel-San, even before he’d left for Was-4. Payter had known he wasn’t entirely happy with his place within the Order. “Are you considering leaving the Order?”

Bel-San laughed, a choked sound, raw and torn. “Where would I go? No, I just can't go back to that anymore.”

“I think it might be good for you to stop teaching.”

Bel-San finally turned to face him, and Payter felt his stomach clench at the worn and despairing expression he was faced with. “You aren’t going to argue with me?”

“If you want an argument about what you should or shouldn’t’ do you’re looking at the wrong person. And as I understand it, you aren’t speaking with the person you’re thinking of.”

Some life returned to Bel-San’s face, if only in the way of steely rage. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Bel-San met his eyes for a long while before looking up to the ceiling. “What have you heard about Seph? They stopped telling me when they posted the guard.”

“What was the last you heard?” The Healers had informed him not to speak of the tribesman because the subject was too upsetting for Bel-San and it would hinder his recovery. Payter knew it for the lie it was.

“Only that he wasn’t getting better and they didn’t know if he would.” Bel-San’s mouth tightened as he spoke, and Payter wondered what it was he saw in his mind when he thought of the tribesman. Was it the broken young man they had with them now, or the one that he’d known on Was-4 who had been a watchman for his tribe, alive and strong?

“They feel it’s only a matter of time." He shook his head. "I’m sorry. He doesn’t want to get better and being here, it’s not helping. He’s lost everything and no matter what we try to give him, or what you try to give him, it isn’t his home and it won't be his people.”

“I know. I can feel him, you know? I know he’s going and I can feel him slip away more each hour. And they won’t even let me see him, to say goodbye or that I’m sorry. He doesn’t know they won’t let me see him. He must be thinking that I’m staying away on purpose.” Rarely in Payter’s life had he heard such defeat from Bel-San. Against great odds and overwhelming circumstances, Bel-San had stood his ground on many occasions. This time he'd been knocked down one too many times.

“If you could have one thing, anything I could give you, what would it be?” An idea was already forming in his thoughts, one that would bring him reprimand by more people than he cared to count, but one that could bring two people a measure of peace.

Bel-San shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“If I could get you out of this room and to Seph for half an hour, would there be anything else you wanted?” He could make it work, of that he was certain; it would take some work and maybe a Force suggestion or two, but he could.

“Payter, you can’t, the guard—“

“You leave that to me. Just tell me if there’s anything else.”

Light caught fire in Bel-San’s eyes, this time with hope, and Payter could feel the Force flowing through him with the trueness of what he was about to do. “We’d need to be out of here, a garden would do, but somewhere not made. Do you think you could really do it?”

He stood with a nod. “I do. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” He moved to the corner of the room and activated his comlink. “Padawan?”

“Master, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I need you to do me a favor. Activate the communications grid from the link on my personal workstation. I know you know the passwords to get in.”

He could feel Kerge’s fear spark along their bond. “Master I—“

“Save it. Just do it and get yourself into the Healer’s network.”

He heard the sounds of the data processing. “Okay, I’m in.”

Chekcing his chrono, Payter took a moment to plan out how he would need things to run. “In four minutes, I want you to send a message to call all Healers for an emergency to the west wing. Code it an emergency four and make sure it goes out on all lines. Then shut yourself out of the system and get to your class.”

Curiosity bled across their bond, but Kerge didn’t ask. “Yes, Master. Just be careful.”

“Mind your business.” He clicked off the com and came over to Bel-San. “Can you stand?”

Nodding, Bel-San sat slowly and Payter could see the effects of his injuries plain on his body and in his movements. “What did you do?”

“Nothing for you to worry about. We don’t have a whole lot of time, but we’ve enough to at least get the two of you out of the Infirmary.”

By the time they made it to the door, they only had a short time before the call went out. “Wait here, right by the door and be ready to go when I come to get you.” He leaned Bel-San against the wall, placing a hand on his chest to be certain he would be up for the trip.

He felt Bel-San's strength welling inside as he spoke. “I’ll be here.”

Stepping out into the hall. he turned away from the entrance and moved further into the ward, searching for Seph’s room. He’d only been in once to check on the tribesman because Bel-San had asked him and was regretful to note he’d not been back. Too many things, not enough time. Much like his life.

As he neared the room, Payter felt the spike of urgency along the Force and knew the call had gone out. He slipped into the room and quickly disconnected Seph from his monitors before picking the slight man up and carrying him from the room. All the Healers had evacuated from the area and Payter knew he had only a handful of minutes before they would return and the search would begin. With luck, he would be able to get the two to the nearest garden then protect them from well-meaning healers until it was done.

Seph stirred slightly in his arms and opened his eyes, pulling back in fright when he focused on who was carrying him. Payter only held him tighter to keep him from falling and quickened his step.

Within moments he was back at Bel-San’s room, where the guard had dutifully not moved from his post. As he saw Payter coming, his hand reached to his com but Payter stopped him with quick use of the Force. He restrained the guard and put him to sleep with an apology.

He keyed the door and motioned for Bel-San. “Tell him I’m not here to eat him or anything. I don’t want to hurt him, but he keeps struggling.”

Bel-San’s eyes locked with Seph’s and the Sentili stilled in his arms.

“He says he can walk.”

“I bet. Look, we don’t have much time before the Healers come back. We’ll have a better chance of getting you to where you need to be if I carry him.” He could see it in Bel-San’s face that he was translating the words and Seph nodded. “All right. Let me know if you need help. I can carry both of you if it comes to it.”

He waited only for confirmation from Bel-San before starting off down the hallway, the other Jedi a step behind him. He moved as quickly as he dared, trusting adrenaline to carry Bel-San where his own body’s recovery would not yet meet the gap. Reaching out with his senses, Payter created a disturbance in the Force away from the entrance of the Infirmary and their path to keep any who might be in the area away. It would be a real short trip if they were overcome before Payter could get them safely within the walls of the garden.

The Force was with them, though, and the Garden of Healing, only steps from the Infirmary was empty. He ushered the two within and set them deep within the protection of the trees and flowers. As soon as he walked into the garden's lush growth, he could feel Seph relax in his arms. He had to wonder why it was that no one had ever bothered to take the poor man out of the artificial environment and put him somewhere he might be more comfortable.

Away from the machines and equipment, Seph was more at peace, though Payter could feel the life draining from him as the tribesman came closer to the Force. Meeting Bel-San’s eyes as he settled Seph on the ground next to the other Jedi, Payter knew that Bel-San could feel the same thing. Most surprising however, was that the knowledge was in Seph’s eyes as well. He reached out as Payter stood to leave, his grip weak on Payter’s arm but insistent.

“He says ‘thank you’.”

Payter nodded. “My honor.” He bowed to Seph before stepping back and addressing Bel-San. “I’ll keep them away as long as I can. You’ll let me know…”

“I will, and thank you.”

Moving away, Payter went to stand guard at the entrance of the Garden, willing anyone to try and cross him, or take away the only moment of peace afforded to either of the men within since they’d arrived. They did come, Healers, other Jedi, eventually even Council members, but Payter stood his ground, feeling Seph slip away by inches, but in peace. They finally brought in Kerge, thinking his padawan might be able to talk some sense into him, but the boy looked at him calmly and smiled instead.

“I passed my exam, Master, only missed one.” He came to stand at Payter’s side, his stance and bearing daring any to try and pass between them.

“Good job.”

Then, as the sun began to set and the day came to an end, Payter felt the last ties that bound Seph to this life release and his presence within the Force drifted away. Only when Bel-San called to him did he move away to collect his friend and allow the healers to take Seph's body from the garden.

Bel-San’s eyes were dry as Payter helped him from the garden, though he was certain his friend was far done from grieving. They were all far from done, but at least now the process could begin and with a beginning, there could be an ending.

-End of Arc-