XANATOS: DETACHED

by ardavenport

~ ~ ~ PART 8

Bruck Chun did not sleep that night.

After cleaning up (he put his discarded hair into the main room's waste disposal) he unpacked his things, putting spare clothes and equipment and learning assignments onto shelves. He paused when his hand pulled out his holo-reader, his father's last message still in it. Sagging, he sat down on his sleep couch and activated it.

Nothing about it had changed.

Except it wasn't true.

Feeling betrayed, he watched the shadowy little figure of the big man with white hair. Bruck no longer felt as if this stranger was even his real father.

Then who was?

Xanatos?

Flinching, Bruck shut the recorder off and tossed it aside. He felt orphaned. Alone. Xanatos's words about him living in this miserable little room until he died sounded very, very real to him now. Was this what happened to his friends who had already been chosen? Shut into little gray rooms by their Masters?

No, he thought, despairing. They would at least be going out on missions, flying to distant planets. Being Jedi. While he would be toiling away in the lower levels of the Temple with his crazy Master, where Master Craglar could spit on him for the rest of his life.

He flopped back onto the sleep couch. His hand touched his head and the short hair that Xanatos had left behind. Then his fingers probed behind his right ear, the braid that he had paid such a high price for.

What had he done? What had he agreed to?

- ooOo%oOOo%oOOOOo%oOOo%oOoo -

Bruck Chun looked awful in the morning.

But he was dressed and ready, his room was clean, so Xanatos said nothing about his long face and the sleepless circles under his eyes.

Xanatos had already had his morning meditation, but he had not decided what Bruck's routine would be. He would observe the boy for a few days before deciding. There was plenty of time.

In the eating hall, they collected their trays and food and after scanning the first meal crowd, Xanatos spotted exactly what he wanted. He wove between the tables and people toward his goal, Bruck following.

"My fine friend, Qui-Gon," he greeted with a smile.

Qui-Gon Jinn smiled and nodded back. His Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi froze, a scoopful of food halfway to his gaping mouth. Xanatos went around the table to take the seat across from Qui-Gon.

"I'd like to introduce my new Padawan, Bruck Chun."

Qui-Gon turned his head to look around his shoulder. Bruck still stood away from the table, holding his tray, his eyes locked with Kenobi's.

"Bruck!" Xanatos spoke loudly enough to catch the attention of people at the other tables around them. He pointed at the single empty chair left, the one across from Kenobi. Conspicuously now the center of attention, Bruck edged over to the empty seat, keeping as far away from Kenobi as he could. He sat. The air across the table seemed to thicken with the mutual loathing of the two Padawans.

"Is this a new appointment?" Qui-Gon asked, dabbing a thick white spread on a muffin.

"Just yesterday," Xanatos answered, unfolding his napkin. He had a fine appetite. On either side of him, the petty furies of the Padawans were brewing. And Xanatos. . . .

Did.

Not.

Care.

Somewhere in his long ago past, Xanatos knew that nothing would have mattered to him more than the personal slights of others and settling old scores. But it mattered not at all now.

So, this was the real Jedi detachment that Qui-Gon had tried to teach to him for years. It was bliss. Across the table, Qui-Gon Jinn looked a bit smug. Clearly he could sense his old apprentice's contentment. But even that did not bother Xanatos. He put a dollop of sauce on his tayos and protein patties and took a bite. Even food tasted better.

"Perhaps, now that you have a new apprentice, we might train together?" Qui-Gon offered genially. "This afternoon I will be showing Obi-Wan a new form. I'm sure Bruck is up to the challenge."

The two Padawans silently glared over their food at each other. Both Masters ignored it. Xanatos was quite glad that the table was too wide for them to kick each other.

"It will have to be another time, but thank-you. Today's schedule is quite full with the ordinary details of taking on a new apprentice. We do not all leap immediately into missions on the first day. That will have to wait until tomorrow." Xanatos took a bite of muffin.

It took Bruck about three bites before he realized what his Master's last words implied.

"Master," he asked. "Will. . . .we be going out on missions?"

"Of course." Xanatos sipped his juice. Bruck looked very confused.

"But. . . . I thought you didn't go on missions?"

"While I treasure my uncomplicated existence, as the Master of a young apprentice such as yourself, I am expected to serve in a more active capacity, to broaden your education."

Bruck looked absolutely out of breath with the revelation that his fortunes had suddenly changed for the better. Obi-Wan looked at his fellow apprentice suspiciously.

"Then perhaps we will be assigned to the same missions then?" Qui-Gon suggested. Both Bruck and Obi-Wan looked at hin critically as if he had just suggested that they form a singing group.

Xanatos could well imagine it; that devious little green gremlin at the core of all the workings of the Jedi Order would do something like that. While it was easy to ignore two contentious boys at one meal, or even during an occasional bout of training, a whole mission of them sniping at each other might strain his newly found sense of detachment too much. He wasn't up to Qui-Gon Jinn's level yet.

He eyed Kenobi, who clearly grasped the concept of letting go of his animosity toward Chun, but had not had much practice at it.

He eyed Bruck. It would take him a couple years to teach Bruck the bliss of detachment.

He narrowed his eyes at Bruck.

Probably more that a couple of years.

Years. . . . . teaching, struggling to make a self-centered, thick-headed bully into a Jedi Knight. He wanted to succeed. He wanted Bruck to know what he had to learn the hard way. He. . . . . . cared. In the most selfless, sappiest Jedi way possible. Xanatos looked down at his plate.

Well, at least his food still tasted good.

"It is always possible," Xanatos covered, stalling, trying to remember what Qui-Gon had just said.

Then he held up a hand when inspiration saved him. "But I think I will suggest that we might serve with Master Craglar. He rarely gets out of the Temple, but he's quite capable. And very experienced."

Bruck blanched. Obi-Wan smirked. Qui-Gon shrugged.

Xanatos felt peace settle into him again. He nodded to them all.

"Well, we don't have to be attached to any particular plan. We will deal with those details later."

- ooOo%o END o%oOoo -

This story first posted on tf.n: 22-Feb-2009

Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.