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Pain shrouded Qui-Gon, threatening to suffocate him. The filth-encrusted alley filled his nostrils with a vile odor, adding a queasy tinge to the vertigo assaulting him. He heard a shuffle and a whimper behind him. Remi. Safe. But for how long? They were searching. Even now. This dark haven only offered a temporary respite. Something slithered past his toe.
Qui-Gon started to tremble as he struggled to clear his mind. To remember what happened. The darkness thickened, blew a malevolent breath across his cheek. Qui-Gon pressed his eyes closed.
He remembered ... the cave. Anger. Laser-hot. Hakola shouting. Nothing about the wild flight through the streets of Coruscant. Then jumping from the still moving speeder, charging into a warehouse. Chaos. Reaching out with the Force ...
Qui-Gon's breathing went suddenly shallow. What have I done? Sensing that crate of thermal detonators on the far side of the warehouse ... flicking with the force, chains of explosions, bodies flying while he laughed. Laughed.
Green blade flashing. Slashing. Remi's cry as he breaks away. Running toward Qui-Gon. A blaster aiming at the boy. His own shout. Running. Leaping over Remi as white-hot pain lances through his side. Red veil dropping.
Fleeing. Pulling Remi. Laser skimming his arm. Slug tearing into his thigh. The blood.
Qui-Gon swallowed hard. He gingerly brushed his throbbing leg. The blood was soaking through the make-shift bandage, torn from his cloak. He could feel his energy seeping out of his body with each beat of his heart. Deeper in the alley, a low growl sounded. A creature drawn by the smell. The blood. His blood. Qui-Gon's lightsaber jumped to life. He waved the blade. Feral glowing eyes retreated.
Down had been their only choice. Toward the planet surface. But now ... now the city might kill them before their hunters discovered them. Qui-Gon slumped against the sooty wall. And they were hunting. He could sense it. He had failed -- utterly.
"C-can we go home now, Qui-Gon?" Remi's small voice quivered.
"Shh. Someone's coming."
Qui-Gon pulled himself to his feet and placed himself between Remi and the mouth of the alley. He braced his left hand against the wall as his side burst into flame and dizziness crashed over him. He wavered slightly, then tensed, grimacing as some weight shifted to his injured left leg.
A figure loped around the corner, cloak billowing out around him.
The green blade winked out. "Hakola?" Qui-Gon felt relief sweep over him when the affirmative reply sounded. He fell against the wall and fought to push back the agony threatening to overwhelm him. The Force danced out of his reach.
But he could sense the concern. Hakola's concern. Qui-Gon's voice cracked as he forced his body to rally, to respond, to straighten. "How'd, how'd you find us?"
Gentle fingers wrapped around Qui-Gon's forearm as golden eyes searched the tall Padawan's blurry gaze. Qui-Gon blinked and forced the pain back a measure, meeting Hakola's silent question with a veiled blue stare.
Hakola stepped back and shrugged. "I do a passing imitation of Master Eit. Contacted Temple security and had them use the speeder's tracking device to locate 'my errant Padawan'. When I found the pieces of the speeder, I figured you couldn't be too far away." He paused. "Why didn't you use your comlink? Call for help?"
"Lost, lost my belt somewhere in the fight."
White eyebrows shot up. "Fight? That's what you call that slaughter I walked through back there?"
Qui-Gon grimaced and looked away. He swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
Hakola's voice was soft. "Would you have contacted anyone for help, Jinn? If you could have? Still think you can't be touched?"
Air hissed through the tall Padawan's teeth. His voice was ragged. "I was so wrong, Hakola. So very wrong. Force help me."
"Look, Jinn. I had to skirt around a couple of search parties to get to you. Maybe we should go."
Qui-Gon sagged against the wall again. "Take Remi. Get back to the Temple. I'll cover your backs and slow them down." He met Hakola's glittering gaze and whispered, "Please. Let me make amends."
"And have you die a martyr? Not a chance, Jinn." Hakola's white head jerked in the murky darkness. "Besides. Here they come. Pull yourself together ... for the boy's sake."
Remi tugged on the Padawan's sleeve. "Remember what you told me, Qui-Gon. Your focus determines your reality. Please."
Qui-Gon sighed and reached out, affectionately rubbing his palm over the wiry layer of fuzz coating the boy's head. "For you, Remi. I'll try."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he pushed past his pain to reach for the light. The Force shimmered and slipped through his grasp. He willed himself to relax, as Master Yoda's voice whispered through his mind. There is no try. Do, or do not. A smile flickered. A shout sounded from the street as the Force splashed over him like a waterfall, drenching his whole being with its essence.
His green blade joined Hakola's violet one in deflecting a hail of laser bolts.
"You sure push the limits sometimes, Jinn," Hakola shouted. "Nice of you to decide to lend a hand here."
"I live to serve," Qui-Gon responded. He faltered as his own words echoed through his mind, mocking him. Roughly pushing the doubt aside, he fell into step beside the older Padawan as they advanced down the alley, toward their attackers.
Qui-Gon smiled grimly as two flashing lightsabers emerging from the dark proved too daunting for the men, who suddenly scattered and fled. Remi darted up and peered out from between the two Padawans.
At the boy's whispered, "Wow", Qui-Gon rested his hand on his friend's shoulder. He shifted his weight to lean on the boy. Remi patted his hand.
Looking over Remi's head to give a curt nod of thanks to Hakola, Qui-Gon said, "Let's go home before our Masters come looking."
"Too late." Hakola pointed down the street with the hilt of his lightsaber.
Qui-Gon glanced at the silhouettes standing at the end of the street and sighed, fingers chasing an itch over his scalp. The three started forward, moving only as fast as Qui-Gon could hobble.
Qui-Gon gazed morosely at the glowing hologram of the planet suspended before his eyes. Alderaan glittered green and blue and swirling white, as a galaxy of white dots filled the dome of the Star Room. The Padawan sighed softly as peace eluded him. The vastness of the galaxy pressed in on him, crushing him with a sense of his ... his insignificance.
The door hissed part way open, and a familiar presence slipped into the room.
"Master," Qui-Gon acknowledged. He continued to stare at the planet, welcoming the darkness that hid his mentor's face. His voice seemed to float, detached from everything. "I've never had much concern for the Cosmic Force. But then, you know that better than anyone; it has been your frustration. But here I sit, at the end of everything, and I am suddenly struck by the Cosmic importance of Alderaan. Yet I have no sense of the how -- if I were to guess, I'd say a great leader will come from there, appearing when he is needed most."
"The end," echoed Yoda.
Qui-Gon ran his fingers over the ridges on his lightsaber, where it lay on the armrest of the chair he reclined in. He recalled the love that went into fashioning the weapon, the satisfaction of a job well done. He sighed and touched the control pad. Alderaan disappeared in a small flash of light.
"I don't know how I'm going to manage, Master. The Living Force has always been such a strong presence in my life. I can't begin to imagine living without its touch. I will cease to exist. I will live out my days, a non-existent shadow. A wraith. A shell."
"Turn your back on the Force, you would?" Yoda's tone was mild.
Qui-Gon whispered, "I will do what I must." Silence swirled between the two. Long moments later, Qui-Gon continued, "Oh, Master. I have failed -- so miserably. How do I dare touch the Force again, knowing the darkness as I do?"
"Little, you know, my Padawan. Little, indeed."
"I laughed, Master." Qui-Gon swallowed a sob. Softly, he repeated, "I laughed. Force help me, I killed those men and, and wished them dead."
"The Dark Side it was, that had you in its grip."
"Once you start down that path, forever will it dominate your destiny." Qui-Gon voiced the teaching with a surge of regret.
"Turned back, you did, as you embraced the Light again." Yoda's tone sought to soothe. "One wrong step, condemns you not."
"How can I know that? Every journey begins with a single step." Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "I will be powerful. And what will I do next time? Whom will I destroy? When it burst upon me, I was filled with such a, a surge of evil pumping through my veins, strengthening my being. I'm so sorry, Master ..." his voice trailed off.
"So, turn your back on the Force, you will, to prevent this happening again. Always in motion, is the future. Certain, it is not, that evil you will become. Doubtful, even." Yoda cleared his throat. "You choice, it is, my Padawan, to leave or stay. That you remain, is my desire. But if you leave, know you must, that the Dark Side has won."
Qui-Gon sat up, searching his Master's face in the dim light of a million pin-prick stars, as Yoda continued, "Cares not, the Dark Side, how it defeats you. Destroy you. Win you. Neutralize you. All the same, it is. Grant you so easily, this victory, to the Dark Side?"
"You don't think this will happen again?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Your feelings, tell me."
"Of being ... brushed by the Dark Side?" Qui-Gon ran a shaky hand over his short spiky hair and clasped his Padawan braid. "I felt ... I feel like my soul has been violated, Master. I feel like I will never be clean again."
"Mmmm. And well you should, this way, feel. Worried, I would be, had you said otherwise."
Qui-Gon heard his Master's gimer stick tap in the darkness. Firmly, Yoda declared, "Happen again, this will not."
The Padawan squeezed his eyes shut. "Can you be so sure?"
His lightsaber was pressed into his palm. As his fingers closed reflexively around the handle, Yoda's hand covered his weapon and hand, gripping both tightly.
"Yes," the Master replied.
The Padawan opened his eyes and slowly smiled. The stars seemed to swirl around as the Living Force descended, infusing his being with peace.
"Thank you," Qui-Gon whispered.
Yoda cleared his throat. "Thank me, you can, when next your thigh is smarting."
