Chapter 1 - The misplaced outing

Obi-Wan entered the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon quietly. With a start of surprise, he realized his Master was sitting at the table, reading a data pad. he thought to himself.

"Where have you been?" Qui-Gon asked quietly.

"Out," Obi-Wan answered in a non-committal way.

"I was beginning to worry," Qui-Gon said, standing and walking over to where his apprentice stood. "Coruscant is a big place."

"Really?" said Obi-Wan, "I hadn't noticed."

The slap, when it came, caught the fourteen-year-old by complete surprise.  It didn't hurt him as much as it surprised him. Qui-Gon had never hit him before. Obi-Wan thought. As he did so, he reached out with the force, searching for waves of anger. He found none.

Qui-Gon sighed, "I'm not angry Padawan," he said. "But I will not accept such disrespect from you. You should know better."

Obi-Wan felt a wave of shame wash over him. Qui-Gon watched his face turn a deep crimson.

"Let's start over, shall we?" Qui-Gon said sternly. "Now, where have you been?"

"I was with Galen and Reeft, Master. We were at the holo-vid store in the Camer-sector. We were playing with some of the new equipment that arrived recently. I guess we lost track of the time." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I really didn't think it was that big of an error. I apologize Master, I will not be so careless in the future."

"Don't make promises you can't keep Padawan," said Qui-Gon with a faint smile. He knew the holo-vid store well. He had played there often as a boy. His smile broadened as he remembered the time Master Yoda had rapped him sharply with his cane after one such incident.

His smile faded as he regarded his shame-faced apprentice. Although he was not angry with the boy, he was irritated and disappointed. "Padawan," he said firmly, "you made us both look very bad today by your absence.  Apparently you forgot that we had an audience with the senator from Rakari Tertius."

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip. He had forgotten, but something told him he was likely to remember whatever punishment Qui-Gon cooked up for him for the rest of his life.

Qui-Gon watched the boy closely. Obi-Wan was very obviously embarrassed by his forgetfulness, and was apprehensive about the manner in which Qui-Gon was going to punish him. Qui-Gon felt a small smile creep across his bearded chin as he contemplated the boy.

"We leave in two days for the Rakari system," He said. "I'm tempted to leave you here, since you obviously don't have the maturity necessary for a diplomatic mission." Obi-Wan's face fell and his eyes misted. Qui-Gon continued mercilessly. "But, I'll let you come - if you complete some tasks first."

Obi-Wan's heart lifted. "Don't look so pleased, Padawan, until you hear what these tasks are," Qui-Gon said. "I want our quarters scrubbed clean – and no, you may not use a droid, or the Force at all. You will crawl around on your hands and knees with a small brush and you will clean every centimeter of the floor." Qui-Gon paused, watching the lad.
"Moreover," he continued, "you will not only keep up with your current lessons, but have extra ones as well – especially on responsibility and patience."

Obi-Wan looked up, meeting Qui-Gon's eyes. "If I do all these things, may I go with you on the mission?"

"Yes," said Qui-Gon. "Be not too hasty to agree, Padawan. Know that I am vexed with you – these lessons will not be easy ones."

Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He felt as though a lead weight had settled in the pit of his stomach. His pride was still smarting from the slap and his Master's comment about his immaturity. But the eyes he presented to Qui-Gon were clear.

"I will do as you ask, Master."

***

Obi-Wan didn't get much sleep that night, he tossed and turned on his sleep-couch. He was furious with himself for forgetting about the meeting.  He remembered Qui-Gon telling him about it the day before. He couldn't fathom why he had forgotten.

When the sun rose over Coruscant the following morning, Qui-Gon was already up and moving. He fought the urge to tip Obi-Wan's sleep-couch over, dumping the boy on the floor. Instead, he settled for kicking the couch roughly. He knew it was petty, but Qui-Gon was like that sometimes.  Obi-Wan tumbled, tousle-headed, from the bed.

"Get up," Qui-Gon said. "You've a busy day."

"Yes, Master."

When the initiate arrived with their breakfast tray about an hour later, she was amazed at the sight that greeted her young eyes. Obi-Wan was stripped to the waist and barefoot, on all fours, and damp and soapy.  The room's furniture, consisting mainly of a table, four chairs, and a settee, were piled high in one corner. A glance into the two bedrooms on
either side of the main entrance showed the same arrangement. The initiate looked
about her in some confusion. "What's going on?" She asked.

Obi-Wan looked up at her and grinned rather sheepishly. "Hello Bant. Sorry about the mess. I decided to go into town yesterday and Qui-Gon wasn't too happy about it."

"So he's making you clean the floor?" Bant's voice was somewhat dismayed.

"Among other things," said Qui-Gon, stepping out of the kitchenette at the rear of their quarters.

Bant immediately set the tray down on the floor and bowed to the Jedi Master. He nodded at her in return. She picked the tray up, and handed it to him.

"Thank you Bant." Qui-Gon said, watching her closely. The pink-skinned girl was almost old enough to be considered for apprentice-ship.  Qui-Gon wondered vaguely who would be her Master. He hoped it was someone he knew, since his own apprentice got on so well with Bant. "Give my regards to Docent Vant when you see her." He said, referring to the blue-skinned woman who looked after the initiates in the wing where Bant lived, where
Obi-Wan had lived before coming to live in his quarters.

Qui-Gon regarded his soapy apprentice with something akin to amusement and took pity on the waves of hunger emanating from the boy. "Alright laddie, you can take a break. You can eat your breakfast. First, go rinse yourself off."

As Obi-Wan hurried to comply, Qui-Gon looked about their quarters. he thought to himself.

*

When Bant returned an hour later to get the tray, it was sitting on the floor in the hallway. She glanced furtively through the small glass window in the door, hoping to see Obi-Wan again. Instead, she noted that the furniture had been returned to its original position and that the room was dim. Clearly, her friend and his Master had gone out. Where they were,
she had no idea. She hoped Obi-Wan wasn't in too much trouble. As she bent to retrieve the tray, something caught her eye - a small scrap of paper, a note perhaps. She unfolded it carefully.

Meet me in the dining hall for second lunch. – O.K.

she thought to herself.

*

At that moment, Qui-Gon and his Padawan were in the gymnasium. Obi-Wan was suspended upside down, about 10 centimeters off a practice mat. His Master held him there with the Force. Obi-Wan's blood was rushing to his head, and he was beginning to get dizzy. The object of the lesson was for Obi-Wan to pick up on the thread of his Master's Force, so that when Qui-Gon let go, Obi-Wan would maintain his equilibrium and not come
crashing to the floor. The first couple of tries had not gone well and Obi-Wan had a lump on the top of his head, despite the cushioning mats below him. If Qui-Gon was to admit it to himself, somewhere in a corner of his mind, he got some satisfaction from dropping his apprentice on his head.

Finally, Qui-Gon let go and Obi-Wan wavered slightly, but did not fall.

"Excellent, Padawan. You are learning." Obi-Wan righted himself, but did not return to the mat. "Shall we go higher?" The last was said in jest. Qui-Gon may have been irritated by Obi-Wan's behavior the previous day, but he certainly did not want to seriously injure him.

"Ah, no, Master. Not today. Besides," he added hopefully, "it's time for lunch."

"Why, so it is." Qui-Gon's mock surprise caused Obi-Wan to laugh, which in turn, made him forget that he wasn't standing on the ground. Obi-Wan crashed down to the mat, still laughing. The sudden hilarity surprised some others who were practicing nearby. Obi-Wan stifled his mirth as he noticed he was being stared at.

"Alright," Qui-Gon continued. "Run along to the dining hall. I know Bant is waiting for you." He smiled as Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Did you really think I didn't see you write her that note? Give me some credit, my boy. I may be aging, but I'm not yet blind."

Obi-Wan colored slightly, but he wasn't going to wait around for Qui-Gon to change his mind. He was out of the gym like a shot, nearly stumbling over Yoda's small, shambling form as the diminutive man entered the gym.  Shouting an apology over his shoulder, he hurried on down the hall.

Yoda approached Qui-Gon, who knelt before the Jedi-Master. "Strike your apprentice, you did," he announced without preamble.

Qui-Gon looked at Yoda in some dismay. Was the Jedi-Master going to rebuke him for this? He thought not. It was not uncommon for a Master to physically discipline his or her Padawan learner. He had gotten more than just a swat or two as an apprentice himself.

"Bothers you, it does." Yoda spoke the truth, if Qui-Gon were to admit it to himself. He was worried that Obi-Wan would be afraid to speak his mind now. Qui-Gon did not want the boy to feel stifled.

"Hurt him, you did not. Teach him, you did. The role of the Master is no easier than that of the apprentice."

Yoda reached out a small, wizened green hand and patted Qui-Gon on the shoulder.

*

Obi-Wan sat in the dining hall with Bant and Reeft. Galen was nowhere to be found. Reeft said that Galen's Master was a very strict man. He was a Keirnan from the eighth moon of the Keirnian system. The three of them surmised that Galen was undergoing some tortuous punishment for the previous day's escapade.

"What did Qui-Gon say when you came in last night?" Reeft asked, curious as always.

"He wasn't happy," said Obi-Wan between bites. "There was a meeting with some senator and he was late 'cause he was waiting for me to get back.  And then, to make it worse, I was dumb enough to mouth off. I won't do that again in a hurry, you can bet your boots on that."

"You mouthed off to Qui-Gon? You're dumber than I thought."

"Thanks," Obi-Wan returned dryly.

"Did he thrash you?" Bant asked, eyes wide.

"No, thank goodness. He's got a strong arm, I can tell you that much. He slapped me." The latter was said quietly, as Obi-Wan had no wish to relive that moment. It filled him with shame just to think about it.

"Did it hurt?" Bant asked again.

"Not really. At least, not on my face. I still ache inside."

"Which is as it should be."

Obi-Wan spun around at that comment and found himself facing his Master.  For the umpteenth time that day, he felt himself blush with shame.

Qui-Gon nodded to Bant, and then turned to Reeft. "How are you this morning Reeft?" He asked pointedly.

Reeft colored as well. He'd hoped to keep his own punishment quiet, by asking Obi-Wan about his. He shifted in his seat, the eyes of his friends upon him.

"How'd you know?" He asked softly.

"I met Mika in the hall. She's most displeased with you. She asked me what I was doing to punish Obi-Wan and I, in turn, asked after you. I must say, Obi-Wan, that compared to your friends you got off extremely lightly.  You appear to be the only one of the little group that managed to escape without stripes on your bottom."

Obi-Wan turned startled eyes to Reeft. The thrashing of one's apprentice was a serious matter. The Master had to have two witnesses – one chosen by the apprentice – in order to ensure that nothing untoward occurred. He was thankful that Qui-Gon had a rather misspent youth – it made his Master a  little more empathetic.

Before Obi-Wan could contemplate this turn of events any further Qui-Gon hauled him from his seat. "We have lessons to complete, my boy.  Delaying them will not help you."


**

Later than evening, lessons completed, Obi-Wan sat on his sleep-couch in his nightshirt. Something was bothering him. Rising, he walked out of his tiny room and crossed the hall to Qui-Gon's. The door stood slightly ajar. Obi-Wan tapped on it politely.

"Come in Padawan."

Obi-Wan entered. Qui-Gon sat at his desk. He was sifting through papers and data pads.

"I wanted to ask you something, Master."

"You want to know why I didn't see fit to thrash you, is that it?"

"Um, yeah, I mean, yes sir, that's it exactly. I mean, Galen and Reeft were thrashed, and I wasn't. It's not fair. I'm not saying I want a thrashing. That's not it at all, but…"

"Well, Padawan, life's not fair, you know that. But, in answer to your original question, I guess I didn't thrash you because I got thrashed for doing the exact same thing when I was your age." He paused, waiting for this knowledge to sink in. "In fact, I refused to learn from my experience. I sneaked out of the temple to go to the holo-vid store several times. And I got thrashed upon my return every time – but it didn't stop me from going again. So, I figured, if you weren't going to learn from a thrashing, then the thrashing would be for my benefit only. My private revenge on you for your truancy. That is not the way of the Jedi."

Obi-Wan looked slightly confused. "Then, what was my cleaning of the floor worth, and the extra lessons – are they not also your private revenge?"

"Ah," said Qui-Gon with a smile, "but when you cleaned the floor, you improved our living conditions and when you practiced your lessons, you did a service to yourself. None of your punishments have been in vain, Padawan. Now get some sleep. We're to leave early tomorrow for the Rakari system. Or had you forgotten again?"

Obi-Wan returned his Master's smile rather impishly. "I'll always remember the Rakari system, Master. Even until the end of my days."

"That you will, Padawan, that you will indeed."


Chapter 2 – the mission to Rakari

Several days prior to Obi-Wan's misspent afternoon, Qui-Gon sat meditating in the quarters he shared with his apprentice. Obi-Wan was off at some lesson, Qui-Gon had forgotten exactly where the boy was. Both of their schedules were very complex. It was hard enough to remember his own, let alone his Padawan's. He was startled out of his reverie by the incessant beeping of his com-link. He sighed, rose from his position on the
floor, and answered it.

"Supreme Chancellor Valorum requests an audience with you immediately,"   came the nasal voice of one of the chancellor's many aides.

With another sigh, Qui-Gon responded. "I'll be there right away." He switched off the com-link and scribbled a note to his apprentice, which he left on their kitchen table.

*

"Ah, Master Jinn, how good of you to come on such short notice." The chancellor beamed at Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master did not share the chancellor's attitude, but he bowed politely. He was still miffed at being interrupted during his meditation.

"I have need of you in the Rakari system," the chancellor continued.   "There is some turmoil there at present and I would like you to escort Her Royal Highness, Princess Talisa, to the family's estate here on Coruscant. My aide will provide you with the more tedious information. You will also meet with the Rakari senator before you go."

"Just how dangerous is the 'turmoil', Chancellor?" Qui-Gon asked, thinking of his Padawan. Obi-Wan was an apt fighter, but he lacked diplomacy – in any way, shape, or form.

"You may take your apprentice along, if that is what worries you, Master Jinn."

"You know me too well, Chancellor," Qui-Gon said with a slight smile.  He bowed again, and exited.

*

(Several days later)

As Obi-Wan sat in his seat, preparing for the transport to take them off Coruscant, he was full of questions. But he was still smarting from his rebuke two days previously. He was not eager to incur Qui-Gon's wrath twice in three days. When he had asked the previous day, his Master had responded curtly, "Since you elected not to attend the meeting with the
Rakari senator, you will have to remain in ignorance." Obi-Wan had flinched at that, but remained silent.

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan. He could sense the boy's impatience and curiosity. With a sigh, he took pity on his Padawan.

"Obi-Wan," he said softly. The boy looked up, eyes full with unasked questions. "We are going to escort Her Royal Highness, Princess Talisa of the Rakari."

"A girl?!" His voice cracked slightly. Qui-Gon fought the smile that crossed his face.

"Yes, well," Qui-Gon coughed slightly. "I have a feeling you won't be wanting to flirt with her. She's only seven years old."

"Oh," the disappointment in his voice was palpable. "Well, if she's only seven, why did the chancellor have to send us? Wouldn't it make more sense to send someone from the-"

Qui-Gon interrupted him smoothly, "Never question your orders, my young apprentice. We are not to know. We are to do."