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As they neared the Temple, Qui-Gon sensed Remi's growing jitteriness. He glanced down at the boy. He didn't even reach Qui-Gon's shoulder, but Qui-Gon knew the heart of Remcil Windu was bigger than most. The boy was what? Eleven? Even so, he was a good friend. Qui-Gon winked at him. Remi's face lit up.
"You were great back there," Remi whispered.
"Shhh," was Qui-Gon's only reply.
"I'm going to fight as good as you someday," Remi continued.
Qui-Gon couldn't resist answering. "Not unless you grow some, Mynock Hatchling."
Yoda cleared his throat and the two fell silent, but Remi's admiration lightened Qui-Gon's steps. At least someone thought he was doing something right.
When they reached the patio leading to the Temple entrance, Yoda ordered them to stop. Remi helped the Jedi Master to the ground. Yoda took two mincing steps, each punctuated by a tap of his gimer stick. He turned and faced the three young males.
"To the infirmary, you will take our friend, Remcil. Talk to my Padawan, I must." Yoda paused. "Contact your father from there, you can, young master."
[Will Qui-Gon join me there?] Jarga's tone was tentative.
"Soon." Yoda's curt reply dismissed the Wookiee and the boy.
Qui-Gon sank to his knees with a sigh, enduring his Master's stare until the others disappeared into the Temple. He let his chin fall to his chest as Yoda began to pace.
"Right, young Remcil is," Yoda said.
The Padawan's head jerked up.
"A powerful warrior, you will be." Yoda nodded to himself. "Powerful warrior."
Qui-Gon froze, hardly daring to breathe. Hope bubbled up.
Yoda spun and poked Qui-Gon's thigh with his stick. Qui-Gon flinched.
Yoda bit out each word. "But you are reckless."
"No!" Qui-Gon blurted. He felt himself deflating as he repeated a whispered, "No."
Silence. Qui-Gon swallowed once, then met his Master's narrow gaze. "I never placed anyone in danger, Master. I only fought because Jarga was willing to take the risk."
"Reckless," declared Yoda. "Rushed in without knowing the danger, you did. Foolish, you were. Killed, you might have been."
"But I felt ..."
"Always with you, it is feeling. Thinking, never. Acting, only. Meditating, never."
"But the Force ..."
Yoda threw down his gimer stick. "The Force. The Force."
Yoda shimmered in Qui-Gon's blurry vision. His Master turned away. This was it. The end. Master Yoda was going to renounce him. Why? the young man cried silently. I don't understand.
The silence stretched. The misty drizzle condensed into large raindrops, painting the bridge a darker shade and spattering the edge of the patio. Yoda reached out his hand and let the soft rain bathe it. Qui-Gon watched and waited for the vibro-axe to slice into his heart.
"Know you, why I took you as my Padawan?" Yoda asked quietly.
Qui-Gon sighed. "No. I only know you regret it."
Yoda slowly turned to face his student. "Foolish ideas, you have. Regret it, I do not."
Qui-Gon frowned. "But ..."
Yoda raised his hand for silence and pointed to his gimer stick. Qui-Gon swallowed hard as he retrieved it and handed it to his Master. No regret? How could that be, when every action, every word ...?
"I don't understand," he whispered.
Yoda began to pace again. After a few moments he stopped in front of Qui-Gon and met his Padawan's puzzled gaze.
"Strong, is your connection to the Living Force," Yoda said.
Qui-Gon only nodded.
"A stronger one, I have not seen. Not for many generations." Qui-Gon returned his Master's thoughtful look with uncertainty. Yoda continued, "Trained, you must be. Encouraged, always, to strive for balance. Or chase shadows all your days, you will -- pointless tasks, meaningless quests."
Qui-Gon found his voice. "Is that what tonight was? Meaningless?
Is Jarga's restoration to his family without merit?"
"Deliberately misunderstand me, you do."
"But, but ... isn't the Living Force connected to the Cosmic? Follow either path, and light is served. Isn't it, Master?" Qui-Gon struggled to put his thoughts into words. "I, I feel the rightness of following the Living Force's lead. How can it be wrong?"
Yoda sighed. "Wrong, it is not. A waste of energy, it often is."
"But it's my energy. My life. Shouldn't I be free to choose?"
Yoda pursed his lips for a moment. "You would turn, from the Cosmic Force's path? Greatness, I sense for you there. Leave that, would you? For what? A narrow path, winding in pointless circles?"
Qui-Gon hung his head. "I must follow my heart, Master." A tremor shook his voice. "I'm sorry I disappoint you."
Qui-Gon heard Yoda grunt as he crouched down. The Master's voice was soft. "Disappoint me, you do not. Frustrate me, yes. For fail to understand you, I do." He sighed. "Emotions, I show not well. But care for you, I do, my young Padawan."
Qui-Gon wiped his nose with the back of his hand and looked up. He blinked rapidly. Master Yoda cared for him? Truly? He saw the sincerity wreathing his Master's face and one corner of the Padawan's mouth twitched.
"Does that mean you aren't going to release me?" Qui-Gon's tone was quietly hopeful.
Yoda snorted and leaned on his gimer stick as he rose. "Ready, the galaxy is not, to have you loosed upon it."
Qui-Gon suppressed a smile. "No, Master."
Yoda narrowed his eyes. "Now tell me why, without your boots you are."
"They pinch my toes, Master."
Yoda shook his head slowly. "Growing again, you are. Soon, this must stop."
"I hope so, Master." Qui-Gon hesitated. "There is something I must tell you."
Yoda waited.
"I think I'm being poisoned, Master."
When Yoda's ears only wiggled, Qui-Gon went on to explain the breathing problems he'd had for the last few nights.
Yoda nodded. "Being poisoned, you are. But the culprit, I am."
Confusion blanked Qui-Gon's mind. He opened his mouth and closed it.
"React this way, to the tula plant, many humans do. Especially in close quarters." Yoda sighed. "Hoped I did, that you would not."
Plant? He was allergic to his Master's plant? "I, I'm sorry, Master," the Padawan stuttered.
Qui-Gon started when he was poked.
"Apologize never, for something you did not. No fault, you bear. Move the plant to the fountains, I will."
"I'm sor..." Qui-Gon bit his tongue. "Yes, Master. Thank you."
"Join your friends, you should."
Qui-Gon jumped to his feet and turned away. He halted suddenly and pivoted to face his Master. His expression softened as he looked down at the small, dignified Jedi.
"Master? I, I want you to know that, that I care for you, too."
Yoda harumphed, even as his ears perked upwards. Qui-Gon smiled and started to leave.
Yoda's voice stopped him. "You must promise, young Padawan, that happen again, this will not."
Qui-Gon's chin fell to his ches. Without looking back, he replied, "Please don't ask me to promise something I might not be able to do, Master. I'll try. But I can't promise."
"Surprising, your answer is not."
Awaiting the reprimand to come, Qui-Gon concentrated on his breathing. Several moments passed.
Finally, Yoda's voice broke the tension. "Stand you there, for what? See you must, how young Jarga fares."
Relief soared through Qui-Gon's limbs. Joy filled his reply. "Yes, Master."
The Padawan burst forward, darting across the patio. He bumped into the doorjamb, muttering, "Sorry," as he spun and kept running. He flipped through the air, his shout of happiness drawing several curious stares. He rounded a corner and collided with another young Jedi, sending practice sabers skittering across the hallway.
"Sorry," Qui-Gon shouted as he ran away. He couldn't stop. His friends were waiting.
