TITLE: "Banished"
BY: Seven O'Nine
RATING: PG
Summary: Qui-Gon is banished from the Jedi Order
Takes place: about five years before TPM, when Obi-Wan is around
eighteen or nineteen.
"Qui-Gon Jinn, it is the decision of this Council that you be banished for your actions."
Silence.
Qui-Gon Jinn felt as though something hard had struck him in the chest, draining the air from his lungs. His legs felt as though his knees had turned to water.
He could feel Obi-Wan's shock radiating like smoke from a fire, and his padawan's shocked gaze on the back of his head. He opened his mouth, desperately wanted to say something, but couldn't. His hands clenched into fists, the fingernails digging into his skin.
"What," he managed to choke hoarsely, "have I done to warrant such a punishment?"
Mace Windu's dark eyes were somber as he looked at his friend. "You destroyed the space station around Meidal'izan, boarded by twenty members of the royal family, as well as the reigning king."
Obi-Wan stepped forward, his face flushed, eyes flashing angrily. "And saved almost a thousand people on the surface of the planet," he said heatedly. "And another-"
Qui-Gon held a hand up abruptly, cutting his padawan off. "Obi-Wan, don't," he said in a rough voice. His eyes locked with those of his horrified apprentice. /Don't say a word. I'm in trouble, but I don't want you dragged down with me./
/But Master-/
/Don't... say... a word./
Obi-Wan's lips clamped together, as if trying to keep back the comments that rushed into his mind. He felt a hard, hot ache inside his chest, as he watched Qui-Gon straighten and look at the Council. They all looked unhappy, Adi Gallia looked almost ready to scream, and Yoda was staring at his clawed feet, unwilling, maybe unable, to look at his former apprentice.
Qui-Gon's face was composed, but he was deadly pale. "You've all read my report?" he asked slowly.
"We have," Master Koth replied quietly.
"Then you know that the alternative to destroying that station would have been the deaths, by hard radiation, of nine hundred and fifty-two innocent people on Meidal'izan," Qui-Gon continued tightly.
"That is not the point, Master Qui-Gon," Mace Windu said, his dark face softening a little. "Your assignment was to protect the king."
"Would you prefer I had just let all those people die?" Qui-Gon asked, a defensive gleam coming to his eyes.
"Not the first time, it is," Yoda replied, still not raising his heavy head. "Final our decision is."
The words had the effect of a thunderclap. Qui-Gon's face hardened into immobility. Banishment was almost unheard of among the Jedi, reserved for those who had committed heinous crimes against the Republic, but had not turned to the dark side. His mind raced over the devastating events of the past few days...
For a moment, he glanced at Obi-Wan with anguished eyes, then looked back at Windu and raised his chin defiantly. His voice was almost too soft to hear. "I understand... but I have a request."
Yoda raised his head and looked up at Qui-Gon. "Request?" he asked slowly.
Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, who was staring at his boots. "I request that Obi-Wan not share in my disgrace, and remain within the Order."
"No-" Obi-Wan started, but another abrupt gesture from his master cut him off. He stopped, frustrated, almost ready to cry. /It isn't right. Master, please.../
Yoda nodded curtly, wanting to end the audience quickly. "Be trained by another Master, he will be."
Qui-Gon bowed slightly. "That is my only request."
Obi-Wan thought he heard a deep bell tolling as Mace Windu rose, deep pain lacing his features. "Qui-Gon Jinn, it is the decision of this Council that you be banished from the Jedi Order. You will be stripped of the title of Jedi Knight and Master. You will never return to the Jedi Temple. You will have no contact with the Jedi, or seek them out. You will be given passage to the planet of your choice."
Qui-Gon looked almost ill as he bowed again, respectful even in the middle of his disgrace. From beneath a fold of his robe, Mace Windu drew a plastic slip and held it out to his friend, it would gain Qui-Gon passage on any transport within the Republic.
Qui-Gon turned and walked out before Obi-Wan could utter a word. He bit back the tears that threatened to flood his eyes, and stared defiantly at Mace Windu before striding out of the Council Chamber.
****
The room was dark, a soft breeze wafting through the open window.
Qui-Gon's few belongings were strewn on his bedcover: holocards of his family, a couple of leather-bound journals, and a small assortment of letters.
Qui-Gon tossed the beige leggings and tunics onto the bed, and took a long look at the brown robe hung by the door. "Never again," he murmured, quickly folding the tunics and jamming them into a bag.
This suite had been his home for the past forty years, in between the inevitable missions. But he had come back to it every time, it was one of the few constants in his life. And he knew, all too well, that his goodbyes would be left unsaid. This leaving was hard enough...
He sighed, and zipped the bag shut.
****
The transport was on the airborne platform, hovering two miles above the
"ground" of Coruscant. Qui-Gon's blue eyes roved longingly over the tall skyscrapers, the hundreds of buzzing ships and airtaxis, and the tallest tower of all, in the distance.
Then he quickly walked aboard and seated himself by a window, in one of the small, red plush chairs.
A flight attendant wearing a golden tunic appeared next to him. "Destination, sir?" she trilled in an odd accent.
"Aladell," he replied quietly, his eyes misty. He slumped in his seat as the transport lifted off with a deep humming noise, soaring above the towers of Coruscant like a thick-set bird, aiming its nose toward deep space.
Night and silence had fallen on the Jedi Temple. Though it glowed like a beacon, casting shadows on the ships buzzing by, the highest tower was dimmed.
Mace Windu and Yoda were standing in front of one of the windows. Yoda leaned on his gimer stick, eyes almost closed as he watched a Mullivak transport pass by the window. Windu, his hands clasped behind his back, glanced down at the small green Jedi.
"We need a new master for young Obi-Wan," Windu said softly.
"Hmm," Yoda replied, not opening his eyes.
Windu frowned at the lack of answer. "I was thinking that Risoin might be a good master for him."
Yoda's sea-green eyes flew open, and he stared warily up at the younger Jedi Master. "Risoin?" he rasped. "Reckless is he... difficult and fiery."
"They can both use some tempering," Windu admitted, resting a long, broad hand on the window and staring out at the spangled cityscape. "Risoin would be well-affected by the responsibility of a padawan, and Obi-Wan needs something to... occupy his mind."
Yoda peered out at the twinkling lights, and frowned. "Right you are, perhaps... yes." He rapped his cane on the floor, giving emphasis to his next words. The grating voice took on a faint note of approval. "Master and padawan they will be."
Windu smiled a little, nodded, and quickly glided out of the room, leaving Yoda alone. The old Jedi sighed, his small green frame seeming to wilt, and leaned against the window.
****
The couch smelled of dust and worn cloth, pressing against Obi-Wan's
reddened face. He tried to repress a tear that sprang unbidden to his eyes,
huddling deeper into the old broken-down sofa.
Qui-Gon hadn't even said goodbye. Just packed and gone, without a word to anyone. No one had even seen him leave, slipping out light like a shadow in the sunlight. He could have at least said goodbye to me. Or... would it have hurt too much?
He sighed and burrowed deeper into the couch, wishing that he could stay there forever. But as he heard the doors swish open, he knew that his new master, Risoin, had arrived.
"What are you doing?" A harsher voice, irritated.
Obi-Wan grimaced and sat up, sighing at the coldness of the air around him. He stared up stoically at the tall man facing him. Risoin was young, only a few years older than Obi-Wan himself, and his straight, almost white hair was evidently growing out of a padawan cut. His tanned face was handsome in a rough way, but was twisted slightly by distaste. Green eyes bored into Obi-Wan's, and he made a small noise of disgust.
"So, this is the padawan the Council's assigned me," he said, crossing his arms over a narrow chest. "Wonderful."
Obi-Wan bit down on his tongue to repress the rebellious words that sprang to his lips. "I'm equally happy to see you," he replied coolly.
Risoin's face flushed a little, but he simply glared at the boy. "Listen carefully, Padawan. I have neither the patience nor the inclination to babysit a rebellious apprentice. I imagine your former Master Jinn taught you plenty. Forget it all."
It took every ounce of self-control that Obi-Wan posessed not to pick up the lamp on the table and fling it at Risoin. How dare he demand that of Obi-Wan? I may have to accompany him on missions, I may have to obey him, but I will never, ever address him as "Master"!
Risoin evidently caught the tiny twitch in Obi-Wan's stony face, and he frowned again. "We leave for Aladell in two hours," he said brusquely, turning and sweeping out of the suite with a flare of his cloak. "Be packed by then."
As the doors swished shut, Obi-Wan sagged against the wall, shaking a little.
****
The world of Aladell, a cultured little planet near the Rim. From space, it
looked like a ball of pure gold, the harsh desert sands gleaming in the
bright light of the sun, Eridi 47. Tiny white dots like a pattern of lace
covered some of it, near the single blue splotch of ocean.
Qui-Gon felt his tense, aching muscles begin to relax just looking at it. The slightest hint of a sad smile touched his lips as he closed his eyes, hearing the soft hum of the engines decelerating for a planetary landing.
The hatch slowly began to lower, and Qui-Gon distantly heard many footsteps shuffling past him toward it. He slipped a hand into his pocket, drew out a small platinum medallion with a single, deep green stone inlaid in it.
"Pilot?" he said quietly, rising from his seat and walking to the cockpit.
The cranky-looking Aladell glared back at him. "Yes?" he snapped.
Qui-Gon simply held up the medallion between thumb and forefinger. The Aladell's tanned face blanched at the sight of it, and he quickly went back to his controls. The engines whined in protest as the transport lifted off the docking pad.
Qui-Gon leaned against the doorway, as the rounded domes and blocky towers of the Aladell city spun by them, whiteness gleamng in the sun. He smiled a little at the tiny figures of the inhabitants, going through their daily routines and jobs.
And he saw another building in the distance, an oasis in the miles of sweeping sand and rising dunes, dotted by dark obsidian spikes. He saw a lovely palace, gleaming silvery white in the noon sun, ringed by green trees and grasses, behind a huge wall.
As the shuttle settled down on a large landing pad, Qui-Gon stepped back and picked up his bag, slung it over his shoulder. The door before him fell away, and he found himself facing a pair of young aides, man and woman, not much older than Obi-Wan. Both wore the gray uniforms of Aladell government officers, both were dark haired and dark eyed.
The girl bowed slightly. "Welcome, Master Jinn," she lilted in an odd accent. "Please follow us. The Sovereign is waiting for you."
Qui-Gon nodded his agreement, and glanced around at the long, twining desert plants that had been subdued into garden use. And the knot within his heart began to loosen.
As the heavy doors clanged shut behind Qui-Gon, he found himself in a cool, sunlit hall, high and wide and made of deep white marble. Columns flanked the huge glass windows.... He blinked a little at the sight of the huge dais at the end of the room, topped by a simple marble throne laced by veins of silver. Seated in it was the Sovereign Saleil of the planet Aladell, flanked by her red-armored bodyguards.
She was tall and slender, her body encased in a silvery sheath laced by tiny diamonds. Wide dark eyes stared out of a lovely oval face. Graying dark hair was braided in a netlike manner, laced by small silvery chains. In the past forty years, she had hardly changed.
Qui-Gon dropped to one knee and bowed his head, feeling a deep, harsh sadness pierce him. He had known the Sovereign since he had been a padawan himself, only twelve years old. The young boy had been brought to Aladell on a peace assignment. For a long moment, she simply stared at him, then rose and descended the dais to a small door at the rear of the room. Qui-Gon followed her, into the small office, with only a couple of gray leather couches by the window.
As the doors shut and clicked behind them, the Sovereign smiled a little. The facade of almost godlike majesty melted away, revealing a simple woman. "Qui-Gon," she said quietly. "You're upset."
Qui-Gon nodded as he sat down beside her.
"Why are you here?" she pressed, her eyes boring into him.
Qui-Gon sighed and stared at his boots. This was hard, almost as hard as not saying goodbye to Obi-Wan... "I came to say goodbye," he said quietly.
Her face creased in confusion and growing suspicion. "Why?" she asked softly.
Qui-Gon slipped his hand around her smaller one, and stared into her eyes. "I have been banished by the Jedi Council," he said quietly. "I'm leaving, perhaps for unexplored space. But I wanted to say goodbye to you-"
"For what reason were you banished?" she lilted in the odd Aladell accent.
"I killed one man to save hundreds of innocents," Qui-Gon replied, his eyes falling to the floor. "Evidently the Council didn't see it the way I did."
"No," the Sovereign replied flatly. Her face had hardened slightly, her hand tightening around his with the strength of an iron band.
"But..."
"No." Her voice made it clear that she would tolerate no argument on the matter. She hooked a finger under his bearded chin and raised his eyes to meet hers, with a sad smile. "You will remain with me for the time being."
Qui-Gon nodded, his eyes drifting shut. "I'm so tired," he murmured.
"I know," she murmured, curling her long arms around him, and cradling him gently against her, head on her shoulder. Her mild empathic senses reached out, sensing the misery, uncertainty and growing shame that he radiated. "You're safe with me..."
"I can't live in exile," he whispered in a broken whisper. "I can't..."
The Sovereign leaned her cheek against the side of his head, running her fingers over his long graying hair.
Over the years, a friendship had grown between the two, the humble Jedi and the alien queen. Almost unchanging herself, she had watched Qui-Gon pass from a young apprentice to a Jedi Knight, and then a Master. She had taken a mother's pride in his accomplishments and had looked forward to any visit from him, if he happened to be near the system.
She gently eased him down onto the couch and drew a nearby brocaded blanket up around his shoulders. He stirred but did not wake as she glided out.
****
Obi-Wan tried hard to keep a scowl from his face as the doors of the giant audience room swung open, revealing a long hall with a throne at the end. His back and legs ached, his head was burning. His lightsaber felt red-hot against his thigh, and his skin felt slick with the exertion.
Ahead of him, Risoin was cool and composed, as if he had been resting instead of the four-hour training session he had just thrown Obi-Wan through. "If it becomes necessary in a bad situation," he had said sternly, "you won't be able to take any breaks."
The Sovereign was standing at the window, resting her slim hands on the sill.
Risoin bowed deeply, while Obi-Wan remained standing stiffly. Risoin only threw a glare his way. "I understand, my lady," he said amiably, using the title for the Sovereign, "that you are being attacked by a member of your government."
"I understand that there was a takeover years ago," Obi-Wan interjected, feeling the hard glare on the back of his head.
The Sovereign smiled slightly at him, and Obi-Wan felt Risoin's fury increase. "Yes, but I am certain that the man involved was killed during the counter rebellion. It was a political move."
"How did he die?" Risoin interjected.
The Sovereign bowed her head a little, with a small smile. "I assure you, there is no chance of his return. He is most certainly dead."
"My lady," Risoin asked again, his face showing his strain. "I really must know how he died."
The Sovereign seemed to take this in, nodded slightly. "If you must know... he was killed by a young Jedi Knight."
"Which Knight?" Risoin pressed.
There was the sound of a door opening behind the dais, and a tall, bearded man emerged from it. For a moment, he was in the shadow of the marble throne. As he emerged into the light and walked to the side of the Sovereign, Obi-Wan choked on a gasp.
The Sovereign smiled at Obi-Wan a little. "My personal guest, Qui-Gon Jinn."
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