Author's Note: This is my first Jedi Apprentice fanfic. Forgive me if I have any information wrong; it's been more than six years since I've read the Jedi Apprentice books. Also, I don't know the exact age of Xanatos, at any point in the series, so I am just going to assume that Xanatos is roughly 8 years older than Obi-Wan. And, with that philosophy, I am going to make Obi-Wan 19. If he was 18, then Xanatos would have to be 26, which seems like a much larger gap in mentality and maturity than if Obi-Wan was 19 and Xanatos was 27. I had thought about Obi-Wan being 20, but then I think Xanatos would be out of Obi-Wan's range, if that makes any sense.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the worlds, except for a few I made up myself for the sake of telling an original story, but the ones you recognize belong to George Lucas and Jude Watson, and I do not profit in any way by writing this story.

Summary: When Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are dispatched to the planet Vlenaria to infiltrate the ranks of a growing number of cultists, they uncover clues that point to the impossible—Qui-Gon's former apprentice whose death was imminent when he crashed into the acid pools. What interest would Xanatos have in these cultists? And how can they stop his influence in the cult before he threatens the peace within the Vlenarian kingdom? As circumstances turn dire, Obi-Wan is forced to face the blindingly blatant feelings he has for the ex-Jedi and make a bone chilling choice that could either leave him broken or label him as the enemy himself. Xanatos x Obi-Wan pairing

A Believer's Circle

Chapter 1

As Obi-Wan expected, the ride to the planet Vlenaria took much longer than he deemed necessary, but he and Qui-Gon Jinn had meant to arrive on the planet undetected. The King, Dag'Mar, had requested help from the Jedi Temple with cultists who had suddenly sprouted up over night, it seemed, and were…well, disturbing the peace. Dag'Mar did not elaborate much, except to mention that there was a peculiar string of murders that accompanied the advent of these cultists. What was peculiar about them was beyond Obi-Wan, but he would soon find out.

They had left a few days ago, only a day after Obi-Wan's nineteenth birthday. There wasn't much of a celebration, but Bant and Garen had spent the free day with him, and they had plenty of time to enjoy catching up. The only thing strange about that, though, was a question posed by Bant. She had looked at him serenely and asked softly, "Do you feel any differently, Obi-Wan?"

He had replied that he didn't feel much differently, but now that he had plenty of time to think to himself and review the past year, he wondered if he felt the same exact way on his eighteenth birthday as he did on his nineteenth. He had experienced and learned so much that no amount of measurements could possibly be used to compare, so he had to feel something else he didn't feel before. Perhaps he was wiser, but he didn't feel any wiser. He still felt a little insecure about a certain number of things, there were still facts and information about which he felt shaky, there were maneuvers he still needed to practice. With that, he concluded that he was different but the 

same. He knew more than he had at eighteen, but because he knew more, he also had more questions about that new knowledge. It was a relentless cycle.

Qui-Gon joined him on the deck, staring out the window at the planet they were approaching, and informed him that they would be leaving in about twenty minutes.

"Will someone meet us there?" Obi-Wan asked, mildly, almost absently, his hands buried in the folds of the billowing sleeves of his Jedi cloak.

"Not at the station, I'm afraid," replied Qui-Gon promptly. "We'll need to do some traveling before meeting up with anyone sent from the king. He will not take any chances, consorting with the Jedi in public, where anyone of the cult might see. It will be obvious why he consulted us, and our cover would be blown before we could investigate. Their defenses would be almost impenetrable. We'll have to be more discreet."

Obi-Wan soaked it in silently and then turned to study his master. "How long will we have to wait?"

"They expect us to arrive at the designated place tonight, so we won't wait for long. Will that be a problem?" asked Qui-Gon with a hint of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Not at all, master," Obi-Wan immediately stated. "It was just a question."

Qui-Gon nodded towards the bluish-green planet. "Did you review what we know about this Vlenaria?"

Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed at the question. "I thought we were past these quizzes, now that I am nineteen."

"I just want to make sure you refreshed your background information," he said lightly enough, but his face darkened when he added, "because I have a feeling that we will be separated for this particular mission."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's just a feeling. I don't think that it would be wise for us to both go undercover in this instance and, even if we did, we couldn't be together. It would look odd. That's why I wanted you to be as prepared as you could be."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell him that he was not a thirteen year old boy anymore, that he had overcome much of his disadvantages—his clumsiness, his rashness, even his impatience, for the most part—but settled on showing it rather than telling. He nodded, his face blank, "I understand. What would you like to know?"

So they spent the remainder of the twenty minutes discussing the politics, history, and economics of the Vlenarians, and when the announcement was made that they had landed, they proceeded to the exit.

The first thing Obi-Wan noticed about the new world was its beauty. It was a cultural society, attached to its roots, and it showed through their ancient buildings in which they lived. Though, it seemed, these structures could have been mistaken for ruins, they were not, and they had been revamped for the newer generations. Obi-Wan could tell apart the old structures from the new ones, as the older ones were in the center of the city, despite the fact that the newer ones were modeled after the older ones. The palace, however, loomed at the very center of the city, almost exactly, on a slight incline so it could be seen from all corners of the capital.

The temperature was just right, only a tad bit cold in the morning, and the sun shone happily through the speckles of clouds in the blue sky. It seemed such a lively place, with people wearing bright colors, all streaming up and down the bustling streets, with the loud laughter and conversations; Obi-Wan couldn't imagine this being the target of a cult. It seemed so peaceful, but he supposed that was why Dag'Mar was so adamant that the Jedi make haste on their journey. More murders and a steadily increasing number of cultists could lead to a very fast decline into chaos in a place where crime had never been officially established.

They slipped in line with a caravan of merchants who intended to rest for the night in the city of their destination, talking with few people and making it very clear they did not wish to be disturbed, though Qui-Gon did talk with the woman, Desina, who seemed to be the leader of their caravan, quite often.

They arrived with little distraction and few breaks. The city, encompassed by tall, golden grass and oak trees, was not much of a sight, when coming from a grand capital like Vlenaria's Placent Nar, but it possessed some of its own beauty, namely the river that coursed through the center, branching off in two or three directions. They used these tributaries and the main waterway as means of transportation, since this was a major trading city within the planet.

As they came to the mouth of the city, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan separated from the caravan and made their way to an out-of-the-way pub where they were supposed to meet one of the king's men for more information. It was located in the outskirts of town, somewhere on the shore of the river. There were some more merchants here, but it was mainly the hired hands and packers. Obi-Wan started to wonder aloud how they would know to whom they should speak for information, but Qui-Gon silenced him with a slight shake of his head.

"The king's man will know, and he will come to us," was all he decided to say on the matter.

By the time they had settled in the darkest corner and had a bite to eat, the sun had already set and left the land in darkness. Obi-Wan tried not to look so sullen waiting, after all, he was supposed to show his master that he had overcome his impatience and so on, and so he couldn't very well sulk. Making conversation was difficult when Qui-Gon was thinking about the mission at hand, so he focused on his food, which didn't taste very good, but, again, he couldn't complain about it when he was trying to be as Jedi-like as possible. He was well on his way to the trials to 

become a Jedi, and he needed to be prepared for the worst. Missions like these were mini-tests, and he needed to take them seriously.

It was just then that a woman, dressed in an inconspicuous black cloak, strode past their table, lightly touching the table as if to reinforce her balance. She had passed by so naturally, but both Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon knew that was the king's messenger. She had left a small, opalescent disk where she had let her fingers linger for a split second. It stared up at Obi-Wan, hidden from the views of everyone else in the room by the spice jars, and he reached up to grab it. At Qui-Gon's quick intake of breath, Obi-Wan knew he had done something wrong, that reaching out immediately would make it seem like her passing was staged, especially to someone who was looking for that. So Obi-Wan suavely grabbed a spice jar and poured the powdery substance onto his plate, returning it to its rightful position behind the others. Qui-Gon nodded.

Obi-Wan had to fight the urge to snatch the disk the entire time they sat in the pub. Only when they stood up to leave was he allowed to take it, but then he had to wait until they came to their room at the local inn to watch it.

Their room had two sleep couches, each one the other side of the room, and a bathroom. It was a plain room, with movement-sensitive lights, which he hadn't expected on a planet such as this. He sat on the sleep couch and held the disk on his palm for Qui-Gon to see as well. Then he played it.

The woman they had seen in the bar was the woman who was now in front of them in the form of a hologram. She flickered a little bit at first, but then her image smoothed out. "Meet me in the Highlifts after midnight. Make sure you are not followed. I trust you can enter the room undetected. The room is fifteen hundred."

Then the disk exploded in Obi-Wan's palm, and he jerked back in surprise. He rubbed his palm on his tunic, wishing it hadn't stung so much and blatantly surprised him. Qui-Gon hadn't budged at all. In recovery, Obi-Wan remarked, "I've never been on a mission that seemed so…sneaky."

"Dire circumstances require dire measures. Perhaps we underestimated the seriousness of this cult. The sooner we meet up with her, the sooner we will get the information to judge the situation clearly."

"And the sooner we can do something." That was Obi-Wan's main concern.

"If you are so bored, why don't we go over some moves?"

Obi-Wan sank down into the sleep couch's stiff cushion. "I'll meditate."

"Excellent choice, padawan. I think I'll join you."

Meditation could be tedious work sometimes, but it was relaxing and it relieved him of his growing anxiousness. He closed his eyes and focused on the tranquility that enveloped him, the 

force, the air, everything. It was when he was just about ready to stop that he felt a ripple, faint but sinister all the same. When he opened his eyes, Qui-Gon was watching him carefully.

"So you felt it, too." It was not a question.

"Just now," replied Obi-Wan honestly. "How long have you known?"

"Since we arrived on the planet."

"Any idea who it might be?"

"There are countless of people willing to do evil in this universe. I can't know them all. But I can bet that whoever it is has something to do with this new cult," answered Qui-Gon as he stood to his full, daunting height. He nodded to the window. "It's just about time that we headed on to the meeting."

Finally, thought Obi-Wan as he followed Qui-Gon into the hall, the dura-steel door hissing shut behind them.

The inn wasn't much further from their own. They walked in the cover of darkness, making hardly more sound than a feather dropping onto a pillow. She requested that they enter undetected, and they would make sure she got her wish. They slipped in through the back, looking for viewers, and climbed the stairs in the fire escape to the fifteenth floor. Thanks to his rigorous training, that did not prove to be as difficult as it seemed.

The room fifteen hundred was not locked. The door slid open as soon as they stood in front of it and slid shut as soon as they were inside. It wasn't much more decorated than the inn at which they were currently staying, but it had a table in the very center, where they would no doubt get their official orders. Obi-Wan felt alarmed to find that it was completely vacant, except for them, and he glanced over to Qui-Gon, who had his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

The door hissed from behind them. They swirled around to see the black-clad woman they had encountered earlier. She wore the same cloak, but the hood was off to give them a better view of her face. Her skin was translucent and displayed her bluish veins, as was common among the Vlenarians, but she had raging red eyes that, Obi-Wan was sure, was uncommon among these people. Her shiny white hair had been pulled back and tied in a tight knot with two hairpins, each with the royal signet engraved in gold on them. She nodded her greetings hastily and gestured for them to sit at the table.

"Greetings, Jedi."

"Greetings," returned Qui-Gon, sitting at the table. Obi-Wan only nodded and followed suit.

The woman did not sit but stood, still with her back to the door, and folded her arms across her chest. "I apologize for the shadiness of our meeting. I hope you understand that these are critical times for the Vlenarians."

"We do, and we are here to help in any way we can."

She acknowledged his statement with a nod and visibly relaxed, hunching her shoulders a little and putting both hands on the chair in front of her. "That is what we have all been praying for, Jedi. I apologize again. I seem have to forgotten proper protocol. My name is Vlarina."

"The princess?" Obi-Wan couldn't help but say aloud.

She smiled. "Yes, I am the princess. I carry out official business when my father is unable to. I have a gift for being unseen when I want to be. And now is one of those times. They did not give me word on who was coming. What are your names?"

"I am Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"It is good to finally see you here, Master Jinn, Obi-Wan. I will feel safer knowing that you are nearby."

"Tell me, princess," prompted Qui-Gon, "what exactly is the problem with these cultists?"

At this, she slipped into the seat gracefully and laced her fingers together before her on the table. "Yes, that would be the question. I suppose it all began a few months ago. A farmer had been out in his fields somewhere on the southern continent when he came across the body of a boy. The boy was no older than ten, and he was sure it was the son of a nearby count who had gone missing a few days before. It seemed as if the farmer was the one behind it, so the count detained him, but a few other similar reports sprouted up around the south counties. It was spaced out, too. When we charted it on a map, it had gone in one direct line, from the farthest reaches of the kingdom towards the heart of it."

"Only nobles' children?"

"No, there were a few others who had been found who were just ordinary people, young and old. But around the same time, people started to notice a group of wanderers wearing all black robes with a red circle on the breast and carrying torches when they marched at night, apparently they sleep during the day. Like me, they can go undetected if they wish, and so these sightings have been rather rare, but there have been enough of them to make us wonder. It was when my sister went missing that my father started to really pay attention."

Vlarina paused a second, taking a moment to gulp in air as if the thought of her sister was too much for her and then continued. "When the guards found her, she was sprawled across a stone altar, with her eyes missing and her ring finger missing. Also, we also found a broken circle carved into her flesh on her chest."

"I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said when the silence persisted. It was clear that her sister was deeply mourned.

"No one knows of her fate just yet. We thought that such a thing would cause a panic among our people, so we would greatly appreciate it if you do not mention this to anyone."

"We won't."

"My father had the Chief Investigator, that's me, look into it more. I went on an expedition with some of my finest detectives into the south, where the cult first appeared, to speak with those who had found the bodies. They all said that same thing—the eyes were missing, the ring finger was missing, and there was a carving on the chest. We decided that we needed someone on the inside, to find out more information. I couldn't go—my father would never allow it. So I sent a young woman, Jensina, to execute the job. She hasn't come back since, nor have we heard any word from her. That is why we ask for your help. We cannot take action until we know for sure that they are the culprits."

"What would you have us do?" By the look on Qui-Gon's face, Obi-Wan could tell that he already had an idea and was planning out details as they spoke.

"I would like someone on the inside and someone to help me with some other detective work. The cult appeals more to the young than to adults, so I would suggest that Obi-Wan go undercover."

He nodded, although that did not imply he was ready to go along with her suggestion without conferring with Obi-Wan in private. "Is there anything else?"

"I can supply you with the information that we know of this cult, but it's not much more than I've already told you, which is pretty close to nothing. I can also supply you with the cult robes and a plan to get you on the inside. Other than that, there isn't much I can do for you here. So, will you do it?" she asked.

"I will need to speak to my padawan privately before I can agree."

"I will step outside, then." She bowed her head and walked out.

After a moment, Obi-Wan said, "Do you think—?"

"Not now. Let's just focus on the problem at hand. Would you be willing to go undercover again?"

"Yes."

"And you understand how dangerous this will be?"

"Yes."

"And you are sure?"

"Yes."

Qui-Gon fell into a pensive silence before he asked in a lowered voice, "What do you make of this situation?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I don't know. There isn't much information. I feel the same as I did before we arrived. I guess I won't know what to make of it until after I'm wearing the robes."

"Eagerness does not always mean bravery, Obi-Wan. This might be one of those times when we should wait a little before making any rash decisions. Putting you in that cult when we know nothing of it is a risk that is very possible to end in disaster, especially because you will be expected to know much of it if you want to join. You will be there all by yourself, remember."

"I can handle it," Obi-Wan assured him, feeling a prick of annoyance at Qui-Gon's distrust.

"Do not let it swallow you, Obi-Wan," said Qui-Gon gently. "There is something very sinister about this cult."

As if he couldn't see that already. "I know. I am willing to do it."

"All right."

When Vlarina returned, she waited expectantly for the answer. When told, she offered Obi-Wan a sympathetic smile. "They take initiates at night, so we will wait until tomorrow night. And for tomorrow, you will learn as much as you can about them, so we can ensure your safety to the best of our abilities. We will meet in a private room in a underground place called Flidell's. It's on the other side of town, beside the grand library. It won't be hard to miss. Good luck."

She exited with a slight bow, and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood up to leave.

Upon Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's return to their room, they sat on their sleep couches, facing one another, each delving deeply into their own thoughts. Finally, Obi-Wan voiced the questions that had been swarming through his head throughout the entire meeting. "Broken circles? Isn't that Offworld's symbol? Xanatos's symbol? He's supposed to be dead."

"I was surprised to hear it, too, padawan," murmured Qui-Gon. "Very."

"What would a greedy corporation like that want with a cult? I don't see much profit in it."

"Neither do I, but I'm sure you will find out. And if Xanatos is back, somehow, then you must be extra careful. He is a clever man, and he always remembers a face."

"But how, master? Is it possible he really survived it?"

"No, but it is possible he staged his death and made it believable. I never would have thought it, though."

Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair, thinking. Xanatos in a cult? Why didn't that seem to click? What could Xanatos possible attain by being a member of or starting a cult? "And why would he—or they—cut off the ring finger and gouge out the eyes?"

Qui-Gon swept his legs over the side of the sleep couch and lay flat on his back, his hands resting flat on his stomach. "To ask those questions would be pointless, Obi-Wan. Right now, you should focus on your own well-being and rest. Who knows when you will be able to rest again?"

"You're right, but I just can't seem to clear my mind of it." Obi-Wan fingered the rough black robes and followed the outline of the blood-red circle on the chest of it. He knew that asking the same question over and over again would not give him the answer ever, but the situation was absurd. How could Xanatos be alive? Why would he be with a cult? Why didn't Qui-Gon seem, in any way, disturbed? The sudden prospect of Xanatos's re-emergence into the universe was very grave news indeed for the Temple, since Xanatos wanted nothing more than to obliterate it from existence. He had tried it once, he could do so again.

What was worse, Obi-Wan realized as he sank into the bed and Qui-Gon turned off the light, was that if Xanatos recognized him as Qui-Gon's new apprentice—and he would, since he had seen Obi-Wan enough times throughout the years—he would know that Qui-Gon was nearby. He would change his plans for revenge, Obi-Wan knew, and Qui-Gon would be in danger. Worrying was not the Jedi way, and he trusted Qui-Gon to defend himself against the former Jedi, but it would still be his own fault that Qui-Gon was faced with that demise. He supposed it was just better, then, to finish off Xanatos and prevent anymore harm. If Xanatos was their leader, then his death would surely do something to the cult's numbers. Well, he couldn't rightly count on it, he supposed, thinking again.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and tried to sweep away these thoughts from his head. What was to come would come; there was nothing he could do to stop it. His master was right; he needed to focus on resting up, so he had a clear mind in the morning so he could fill it up with as much information as he could from Vlarina. And then tomorrow night. That was when it would begin—the one thing he knew for certain that would leave him feeling different when it was all over.