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Qui-Gon sat in the pilot's chair, staring at the Temple landing pad beyond the viewscreen. Less than an hour and the precautionary 24-hour quarantine would be lifted. The disease was defeated. And four days of doing little except sleeping and eating had completely restored his own health, as well as Nyk's. He had transferred his full report to Master Yoda via the ship's computer. He stirred restlessly. He'd know soon enough what his punishment would be.
Nyk slipped into the cockpit and propped her elbows on the back of his chair. "Mmmm. You smell much better than the first time I met you."
Craning his neck to peer at the young woman, Qui-Gon gave her a half smile. "Refreshers are a great invention. Every prison cell should have one."
Running her index finger along his jaw, she said, "You're getting pretty scruffy. Why didn't you shave?"
With a grin, Qui-Gon answered, "Because I need to."
"My brother was like that the first time he needed to shave." A smile filled her voice. Perching on the rim of the other chair, Nyk took Qui-Gon's hand in both of hers. "I'm going to miss you, big guy."
Qui-Gon leaned close. "You could stay. Do your medical training on Coruscant."
She shook her head sadly. "No. I need to return."
"And I need to remain here."
"It would never work anyway, you know."
"Yes. You are much too much older than me."
Her eyebrow quirked. "I was thinking more about how irritating it would be to never be able to keep my feelings to myself."
"Would you like to know what you're feeling right now?" teased Qui-Gon.
Nyk shook her head, dropped softly to her knees and cupped the Padawan's palm along her jaw. She closed her eyes. "I wish I were three years younger. I wish we'd met in another time and place. Oh, Qui-Gon. I care so much for you. It would take so little for that caring to become something more."
Qui-Gon sighed and brushed his lips on the top of her head, then rested his cheek there. Me, too, he answered silently.
Long minutes later, the hailing frequency broke the two young people apart, and they were informed they were free to leave the ship. With fingers intertwined, their pace lagged to the landing ramp. At the head of the ramp, Qui-Gon released Nyk's hand and paused to watch her walk slowly down the incline. At the base, two cloaked Jedi hustled her away. Qui-Gon frowned and hurried to the deck to see Nyk joining a larger group of Jedi involved in an intense discussion. He felt suddenly bereft. Looking around forlornly, he spotted Master Yoda patiently awaiting him five meters away.
Quickly crossing the short distance, Qui-Gon sank to his knees in front of his Master. His eyes were pinned by a narrow assessing gaze. He started to shrink into himself, then stopped, straightening his spine and returning the stare openly. He had helped a friend in need; he would not be ashamed of that. Master Yoda's eyes widened slightly and his winged ears raised a centimeter.
The diminutive green Jedi planted his gimer stick on the ferrocrete and stretched his arms out before him. "Renewed confidence, within you, I sense. Looked for this, many weeks, I have. Tell me why, my Padawan."
Taking a slow, deep breath, Qui-Gon gathered his thoughts. "You're right, Master. Since I ..." He hesitated and began again, "Touching the Dark Side destroyed my sense of who I was, Master. It was your strength, and your faith in me that has kept me going the last three months. I need to thank you for that."
"Changed, something did, on Circarpous."
Qui-Gon nodded. "The Dark Side called and I turned it away. The Light Side protected me, and kept me going when I had no strength. Even at my weakest, I could push through my pain and it was there, Master." A smile lit the Padawan's face. "I am a Jedi."
Master Yoda's wrinkled brow raised. "That your connection to the Living Force was too strong to sever, I knew."
Peace swelled with the Padawan's breast. "Yes, Master."
Turning to pace back and forth, Master Yoda fell silent for a minute. Without stopping, he asked, "How fares your arm?"
"Great. I don't think there will even be scarring. I think the medicine the Mimbanites used must have had something like bacta in it." Qui-Gon quietly added, "How is Master Eit?"
The old Jedi Master halted. "Recovering, he is. Worrisome, it is, that a virus has been developed which feeds on midi-chlorians. Found, the creators must be."
"Hakola figured that out, as well?"
Master Yoda nodded. "Before reaching Corellia."
"Hakola headed to Corellia? Not here?" Qui-Gon jumped to his feet and took three long strides before returning to crouch before his Master. Realization coursed through his being. "That's it, Master. The holo-map on the colonel's desk. The system seemed so familiar at the time. It was Corellia." He frowned. "They, they said something about agents, a base, 12 weeks. Could they have been planning some sort of attack on Corellia?"
"Mmmm. Investigated, that must be." Master Yoda tilted his head. "Remember you, anything else, of these men?"
Running thoughtful fingers through his short brown hair, Qui-Gon replied, "That I didn't put in my report? No ... Wait. There was one thing. The colonel had a tattoo on his wrist. A streaking comet."
"I noticed several guards that had that same tattoo," Nyk spoke from behind the Padawan.
Qui-Gon popped to his feet and spun to face the blond young woman. He looked down into her serious features. "Some kind of rebel group?" he asked. "Aimed at Corellia? Or even at the Republic?"
Nyk shrugged. "Which ever, we know they're vicious. Attacking a planet's population to gain a stronghold, or a base to attack other places from." She shivered.
Qui-Gon rested a large hand on her shoulder. Her body warmth radiated up, heating his palm and streaming along his nerves. Their gazes locked. He saw sadness haunting her green eyes.
"Your leaving now?" he whispered.
Nyk nodded. "In just a few minutes. The Jedi healers heading to Circarpous have invited me to join them. I have to return to my people, Qui-Gon."
"But the colonel and his military force ..."
"Gone. When your friend stopped at Corellia, the Republic garrison there sent a task force that arrived a day after we left. The whole outfit has disappeared with barely a trace." Her voice dropped. "But the epidemic is still running rampant, and there isn't enough antidote. The Mimbanites and humans were able to rig a temporary communications set-up. They've asked for help."
A heavy sigh leaked from the Padawan. He blinked and twirled a lock of golden hair around his finger. His voice was barely audible, even to himself. "Hence the Jedi healers." He batted his eyelashes rapidly, beating back threatening moisture. "Oh, Nyk. I'll miss you. I'll ..."
Stretching up on her toes, Nyk clasped the back of Qui-Gon's neck and pulled him down. The kiss was tender, softly lingering and wistful. Nyk pulled back a little and stared deep into Qui-Gon's eyes. Then he was wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her up as he held her against his chest in a crushing embrace. Their lips met with fierce longing. Qui-Gon groaned as his senses were consumed with Nyk's touch, her taste, her smell. For long moments, her ardor matched his, before he sensed her withdrawing slightly, her emotions rent in two. Qui-Gon forced himself to quell his fervor. Gentling the kiss, he lowered her, not breaking away until her feet were solidly on the ground. Still, his hands lingered on her waist, reluctant to lose their physical connection. Nyk slid her hands into his palms and lifted them to her lips, kissing each of the Padawan's thumbs before she looked up.
Shimmering eyes floated in a flushed face. Nyk said, "I ..." A sad smile touched the Padawan's lips as he watched Nyk stiffen and wrap herself in her cloak of bravery. She wiped at an errant tear and smiled at him. "Come visit me sometime, big guy. Next time three years might not seem so much. You'll always know where to find me."
Qui-Gon nodded as words clogged in his throat. He watched her march across the deck and jog purposefully up the ramp of a Republic cruiser. I'll find you in my heart, Nyk.
A cavity took root deep in the Padawan's being, growing as the sound of the ship's engine rose above the general hubbub of the landing pad. The cruiser lifted into the air, swiveled slowly, and eased into the busy Coruscant traffic lanes. Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon enfolded the emptiness in a blanket of inner light, holding tightly as it dissipated into the Force.
A hand grabbed him and swung him around. Qui-Gon started, gaping at the red, indignant visage of an obviously distraught ...Tahl? He squinted and stared at his sputtering friend.
"You ... you ... you let her kiss you!" Tahl planted her fists on her hips.
Qui-Gon blinked. What was wrong with Tahl? He desperately sought to calm her down. "Guess what, Tahl. The Force taught me to smile again. Isn't that great?"
Suddenly she struck, pushing the stunned Padawan back a step. "You kissed her back!"
Without another word, she wheeled and stormed away. Shock and confusion warred in his mind as he stared after his friend. As she disappeared from sight, Qui-Gon felt a gaze glued to his back. He pivoted to look down into the inscrutable face of his Master, noting his pursed lips and level ears.
Qui-Gon squatted down, earnestly searching his Master's face. "Tahl's gone crazy, Master. You have to do something. Speak to her. Speak to her Master."
Master Yoda harrumphed. "Get into the middle of this situation, I will not."
Situation? There was no situation. Tahl was just acting ... peculiar. He sighed when he heard Hakola hail him from across the deck. Not now. Does he plan these things? Qui-Gon slowly rose and turned to face the golden-skinned Padawan striding toward him.
"Blast it, Doy," Qui-Gon said. "Aren't you supposed to be on Corellia?"
"Took off from there as soon as I had some meds. I made the Corellian garrison commander promise me they'd get you out of that prison and headed home to get Master Eit to the healers." Hakola smirked and raised one white eyebrow.
"What's that look for?"
"Nothing at all, Jinn." He snorted softly. "Though you do seem to be suffering with a bit of woman trouble."
"What? Tahl? She's just, I don't know, acting weird. That's all." Qui-Gon crossed his arms firmly.
Hakola shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what, Doy?" Annoyance bubbled up.
"How do you see Tahl? Do you still see her as a girl? As your good buddy?"
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, even as discomfort grazed his mind. Of course, that's how he saw Tahl. That's what she was. His friend. His best friend.
"Jinn," Hakola said, shaking his head again, "you're getting everything you deserve here."
"I don't deserve anything, Doy." Tahl's upset face came to mind and Qui-Gon sighed. "Some days, I can't seem to do anything right."
"I don't know. You seemed to be doing just fine with that little blond from the settlement."
The tall Padawan's gaze narrowed, as he seethed with the sudden desire to shield Nyk from Hakola's verbal barbs. Hakola startled and threw his hands up in silent surrender. Qui-Gon relaxed as the surge of protectiveness waned.
"Wow," Hakola breathed. "You've crashed harder than a crippled mynock in an asteroid field." A smile lit his golden eyes. "Gives a fellow hope that your buddy might need comforting."
Hakola clamped his hand down on Qui-Gon's shoulder and jerked his head toward the Temple entrance. "Bet you're hungry, Jinn. Let's go grab a bite." Qui-Gon nodded his acceptance of the peace offer. The two Padawans started to stroll across the deck.
"No." Master Yoda's quiet command froze both young men in mid-step. They slowly turned as one to face the small dignified Jedi. Yoda added, "A question of punishment, there still is."
Qui-Gon swallowed hard and exchanged concerned glances with Hakola. They waited silently for the vibro-axe to fall.
"Disregarded what you knew the Council would wish, you did." Yoda's green gaze bored into Qui-Gon's. "Defied me, you did, my Padawan. Again." Yoda stamped his gimer stick, making Qui-Gon cringe. The Jedi Master's attention retreated to encompass both Padawans. "Stole a Republic cruiser, you did."
Qui-Gon shot an I-told-you-so look at Hakola. Yoda cleared his throat and both Padawans tensed.
"Decided, the Council has," declared the Jedi Master, "that leave this hanger, neither of you will."
"What?" the Padawans chorused.
"Not," Yoda interrupted, "until restored, that spacecraft is, to its original condition."
"But the landing gear is plugged full of mud," Qui-Gon protested.
"And there's blaster scoring," added Hakola.
"Not to mention the scraped paint job from landing," Qui-Gon said.
"It could take days and days," Hakola said.
The Padawans exchanged alarmed looks. Qui-Gon whispered, "What will we eat?"
"Restocked, the ship's larder, has been." Yoda poked Qui-Gon in the thigh. The Padawan rubbed it as his gaze silently begged for reprieve. His Master pressed his lips together and firmly shook his head.
Resignation draped across the young Jedi's shoulders. Qui-Gon sighed and turned with Hakola to face their punishment.
Again, Yoda's voice stopped them. "And you, my Padawan ..." Qui-Gon mentally braced himself as his master continued, "Clean-shaven, you will be, when next I see you."
Qui-Gon rubbed his jaw ruefully and replied, "Yes, Master."
