Chariot's of 'Ire'…

Part Three: Misery

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"He's up to something." Mace squinted as he watched Qui-Gon stare unenthusiastically at the food on his plate from his vantagepoint across the refectory hall. "He's definitely up to something."
"What makes you say that?" The jovial Jedi master Dex Berlingside took Jinn's measure, noticing the unease and untypical nerves that had progressively got worse over the past few days. They quickly glanced away when Qui-Gon seemed to become aware that he was under some kind of observation.
"Did you see the way he jumped just now?" Mace continued in hushed tones. "Sign of a guilty conscience if ever there was one."
"What, Qui-Gon?" Berlingside laughed. "When did you ever know Qui-Gon Jinn to have one of those?"
"Frequently!" Windu grinned.

His companion sat back in his chair. "He's been acting most odd in the last week or so. I mean, how often does Qui-Gon come here? He always said he'd rather have his teeth pulled without painkillers than eat in the refectory. He knows what the food's like down here."
"We ALL do." Mace pulled a face. "That's why I say us coming here to watch him was a very bad idea."

Berlingside nodded absently, smoothing a stray silver-blonde wisp of hair into place. Vivid green eyes watched in amusement as Qui-Gon made another attempt to swallow a mouthful of the unappetizing gloop that had been congealing for the last twenty minutes or so on the tray in front of him.

"Poor man. Looks like a Gundark chewin' a wasp." He smiled.

Mace choked on his drink, and out the corner of his eye he saw Qui-Gon look suspiciously towards them.

"Ooops. We've been rumbled." Berlingside showed an array of shining teeth. "It must be bad, whatever it is that's keeping him here. My old master used to say that before I became a knight, I would have to pass a series of trials, and that they would consist of a starter, main course, sweet and a selection of home-baked pastries from the temple refectory. I believed him for the best part of ten years."
"And what happened?" Mace asked, wiping tea off his chin.
"I passed all my trials. I became a knight. He was really proud of my achievements, so much that he offered to take me out and buy me a celebration meal." He raised an eyebrow and indicated the chosen venue with a sweep of his hand.
"He never!" Windu chuckled.
"He did. You think you know a person all these years, they nurture you and treat you like their own child, but as soon as you've flown the nest they try and poison you with a double portion of roast Nerf and Seruli dumplings."

Mace shook his head in amusement. "I wonder what it is that's got him so on edge? Perhaps Obi-Wan would know."
Berlingside nodded. "Worth a try, I suppose. Mind you, Qui-Gon can be as closed as a book when he wants to be. Could be shielding from Kenobi, too."
"Look at him." Muttered Windu. He watched silently as Qui-Gon sighed to himself, and gave up the battle with his food, opting to pour himself a glass of water instead.
"He could be in love!" Laughed Berlingside.
"Leave it alone, Dexi!" Mace coughed. "Qui-Gon Jinn? In love?"
"Why not?"
"He's never got over his crush on Depa Billaba, for starters. No, I'm afraid he's dedicated to the teaching of the Jedi ways."
"So am I, and I don't live like a monk!" Berlingside grinned.
"So I've heard." Snorted Windu.
"I look on it this way. If I put myself out of circulation, it would be a tragic loss to all the ladies in the galaxy."
"And what does young Harkley have to say about that?" Queried Mace.
"He watches and learns from the old master!" Berlingside winked. "Look. There he is now."

He nodded over to his sixteen-year-old padawan. Kryztan Harkly was an extremely good-looking boy for his age, and had survived the rigors of teenage acne and greasy skin completely unscathed. There was a spring to his walk and a bolt glint in his black eyes as the youth took in the females sitting down to their repasts throughout the hall.

"Sets all the ladies hearts a fluttering!" Dex said proudly. "In which respect may I add, he's just like his master!"
"Is his head as big as his masters'?" Windu asked conversationally.
"Sith, no! He'd got years before he can reckon himself in my class." They watched as he approached a group of young female padawans and seated himself at the end of their table without permission. For a moment Mace thought they would ask him to get up and leave, but then made some kind of a joke and there was uproarious laughter from the padawans.
"See?" Dex puffed his chest out. "That's my boy! Age is no barrier to him. I've seen him try his hand with both Depa Billaba and Sal-Fina."
"Disgraceful!" Mace said with mock severity. "The youth of today…"
"Are having a lot more fun than we did at their age!" Finished Berlingside.
"Yeah. Not fair is it?"

An altogether smaller figure entered the room, seemingly searching for someone. Studying the layout of the refectory for sign of the person she sought, Jemmiah Gleshan tugged down upon her uniform, apparently aware of the shortness of the skirt she was nearly wearing. Several of the male padawans roughly matching her thirteen years seemed to stop eating, cutlery in hand. Mace caught himself staring and hurried looked away. He didn't want his glance to be misinterpreted.

Eventually, she saw Master Jinn sitting rather forlornly all on his own. She frowned, still tugging her skirt down with every step she took towards his table. She didn't want to be accused of being scruffy, or anything.

He raised startled and somewhat disapproving eyes to her as she hovered in front of him. "Can I sit down?" She asked breezily.
He looked her up and down. "I don't know. Can you, in that thing your wearing?"
"It's a skirt." She retorted.
"No. A skirt is something that should cover one's modesty. That doesn't seem to be covering much of anything." He broke off, thinking. "Why aren't you at lessons?"
"Holiday." She replied.
"As of when?"
"As of an hour ago." She clapped her hands together in unbridled delight. "Eight weeks of doing whatever I want!"
"I thought you did that anyway." Jinn challenged.

She pouted. "I bring a message from your padawan."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon frowned. "Why doesn't he speak to me himself?"
"He's just gone into an exam, Master Jinn. Remember?"

Actually, Qui-Gon had forgotten. A slightly guilty flush came over his face and he looked away from her eyes. "Yes, I remember. Physics…"
"History."
"Yes, that's what I meant." He became flustered. "Just give me the message."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise.

"He wanted to remind you that the sports day has been rescheduled for a week today, and could you meet him after his exam to discuss what sort of...Master Jinn? Hello?" She waved a hand in front of his blank eyes. "YOO-HOO? Anyone home?"

Qui-Gon gulped. The two words he'd grown to hate most in the entire galaxy when placed together. Sport and day. The very idea had him quaking in fear. Two disastrous previous attempts to win the damn thing had done nothing for his confidence.

"Coruscant calling Master Jinn…permission to land granted." Jemmiah pretended to knock on his broad forehead.

There was no way Qui-Gon was ever taking part in that thing again; he'd promised himself as much after the last time he and Obi-Wan had messed up so very publicly. But what could he do? How could he get out of it this time?

"The building's on fire, Master Jinn, and we're about to be eaten by a plague of giant insects with pointy teeth…" Jemmy waved her hand in front of his eyes.

The last chance. It was the last chance that Obi-Wan would have to compete in the events. As of next year he would be too old. If only Qui-Gon could think of some imaginative way to get out of this.

"…One of them has carried of f Master Yoda, sucked out his insides and turned him into a waste basket…"

Think, Qui-Gon urged himself. THINK!

"Oh, look. Master Billaba is doing a striptease on the table down the far end of the hall."

If ever he needed inspiration to help him out, it was now…"What did you say?" He asked suddenly.
Jemmiah grinned. "Typical man. Knew that would get you."

Uh-oh. There's that look again, Jemmiah thought. Time to make tracks.

"I'll leave you to vegetate all by yourself then." Jemmiah smiled airily at him. "I'm going back to my apartment to fix myself some REAL food." She stared at the mound of "something" that was trying to escape from off his plate. "I don't know what that is, but if you ask me it's having an identity crisis." She shouldered her bag. "Remember, Obi-Wan said to…"
"Yes, thank you." Qui-Gon interrupted. "I heard you perfectly clearly. Go home and put on something more substantial than a face flannel."

She glared, pulling her skirt down. "Jedi! Wouldn't know fashion if it slapped them round the head with an iron bar."

He watched her swagger away, as only Corellians knew how, noticing that some of the younger male padawans were following her every step with magnetized eyes. She stopped suddenly just along from padawan Harkley's table and bent over to adjust the fastening on her heeled boots, and to Qui-Gon's horror and the considerable delight of not a few of the adolescents her skirt managed to ride all the way up, leaving very little to the imagination.

"Cheeky girl!" Berlingside grinned in delight. "I'll bet she'll be a handful in a year or too! That was a parting shot to Qui-Gon if ever I saw one."
Mace shared his friends' opinion. " She's a good kid, Jemmiah. A bit headstrong. Very…"
"Corellian?" Dex supplied.
"Yes." Windu agreed. "But her heart's in the right place."
"Everything seems to be in the right place." Dex approved. "I think my padawan would agree with me, judging by his expression."

Mace rolled his eyes. "For Sith's sake, she's only thirteen, and barely that."
"Means nothing. Women mature faster than men do. Believe me, I know these things."

Mace let that pass. He wasn't going to get drawn into that conversation again.

Qui-Gon sighed morosely. He'd spied Master Windu and Master Berlingside chatting away, somewhat covertly he thought, glancing across at him every so often. Time to find out precisely why…

Mace was about to shovel down a helping of some fruit concoction when he caught sight of Qui-Gon striding over to their table. "Watch out, he's coming over." He said round a mouthful of Bandomeerian mango. Berlingside folded one hand over the other and smiled reassuringly.

"My apologies for the little display you just witnessed," Qui-Gon indicated back to a table where the male padawans were almost frozen in rapt silence, "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
"No need for that Qui-Gon." Berlingside winked. "I rather enjoyed it, personally."

Ignoring his eternally cheerful companion, Qui-Gon seated himself next to Mace Windu. The three of them had known each other for as long as they could remember, in the case of Dex and Qui-Gon from their time in the crèche. The tallest of the three by a long shot, Qui-Gon looked an odd figure sitting between his to smaller companions.

"OK," he said finally. "What's up."
"Wwwhat do you mean, what's up?" Mace stumbled.
"I mean why do you two keep whispering and nudging each other and looking over at me? What's wrong?"
"We could ask you that."
"You could," agreed Qui-Gon. "But I asked first."
"We just don't often see you in here." Berlingside smiled a little too smoothly for Qui-Gon's taste.
"I could say the same for you." Jinn replied warily. "You've been following me, haven't you?"
"No." Windu said.
"No?" challenged Qui-Gon.
"No." Mace repeated.
"No….yes." admitted Berlingside.
"Uh-huh." Qui-Gon looked from one face to the other and back again. "Might I ask why?"
"Because, my friend, I am worried about you. WE are worried about you. Sith, even Yoda's worried about you!"
"I'm fine."
"Why are your hands shaking?" Dex countered.
"They are NOT shaking." Qui-Gon growled, holding out his hands to prove his point, willing them to stop trembling. If anything they got worse. "OK. Not much anyway."
"Qui-Gon, you are a veritable bag of nerves!" Mace frowned. "Maybe you should see the healers. An-Paj will give you something to…"
"No thanks. I refuse to have them prodding me about."
"Isn't that Obi-Wan's line?" Windu grinned.
"And frankly, I think they've done enough damage with all their medications in the past."
"Pardon?" Dex frowned.
Mace stole a quick glance at Qui-Gon, as the truth of his words began to sink in. Of course! That was it, thought Mace. If I'm right he'll confirm it by asking me for a dangerous mission on behalf of the council.

Qui-Gon fidgeted slightly. "I was wondering, Mace…"

Here it comes, thought Windu.

"…If the council had any missions for my padawan and myself coming up. Say, in the next week or so."

Knew it, gloated Mace to himself.

"It wouldn't matter how dangerous."
"That's not very fair to your padawan, is it?" Mace queried.
"Have you or haven't you?" Qui-Gon asked impatiently.
"This week?"
"Yes."
"Very dangerous?"
"Yes."
"Away from Coruscant?"
"YES."

Windu bit his lip, seemingly deep in thought. "Hmmm."
"Well?"
"Nope." Mace said, standing up. "Sorry, old friend. Looks like you and Obi-Wan will just have to take part in the sports day instead, eh?"

He smiled at Berlingside. "You coming?"
As Qui-Gon looked at the work surface with the most dejected expression Mace had ever seen before, he reached over to slap him playfully on the shoulder. "Qui-Gon. You have to face up to things. There's a sack out there with your name on it." He grinned at his bearded friend. "If I were you, I'd start running now. That way you might be ahead when Sal-Fina and Ambianca get to the start line."

Qui-Gon Jinn had never felt such abject misery. He'd been well and truly tumbled.

Trouble was, what was he going to do about it?

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"Expecting this, I was." Yoda nodded sagely.
"Yes, well. More to the point, what action are we going to take? Qui-Gon can be really determined. There's no way he'll take part in that thing ever again." Mace replied.
"It's Kenobi I feel sorry for." Berlingside folded his arms. "What's he got in store for that poor kid this time?"
"What do you mean?" Windu hesitated. Qui-Gon would never do anything to deliberately cause Obi-Wan any kind of suffering. Not even if he was desperate.

Would he?

"Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?" Dex continued, "For the last two years Kenobi hasn't been available to take part in the events for one reason or another. That unfortunate upset stomach he got on the morning of the games a year ago. Poor kid spent the whole day locked in the fresher. I've never seen a Jedi so happy at their own padawans discomfort."
"Yeah," agreed Windu suddenly. "Food poisoning was the reason Qui-Gon gave."
"But just who poisoned the food?" Dex enquired.

An uncomfortable silence descended, punctuated only by the tap-tapping of Yoda's stick against the floor.

"What about the year before?" Windu reminded his companions.
"What, you mean the time when Qui-Gon altered all the chronos by about five hours so that they missed the entire event?"
"Know about that, I did NOT!" Yoda looked annoyed.
"Master, He's so terrified about this whole business that it's been eating away at him for ages. It goes back to that Xanatos caper. There's no telling what he'll do this time if he's really desperate. He'll probably paint little red dots on the boy's face so that when he wakes up he'll think he's contracted some mutant strain of swamp fever." Berlingside insisted.
"There are no swamps on Coruscant." Reminded Windu.
"That doesn't matter to Qui-Gon. He'll have Kenobi believing every word."
"The healers would know instantly." Mace said.
"What, Kenobi? Voluntarily go to the healers?" He shook his head. "Is it raining up there on planet Windu?"

Mace sighed. "Short of keeping Obi-Wan on a tight vigil, what can we do?"
Yoda's eyes twinkled. "Be ready, we shall."
"You have a plan, Master Yoda?" Dex smiled curiously.
"Hmmm." Yoda said. "And a lesson."

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Jemmiah had thought Master Windu's request to watch Obi-Wan like a hawk the day before the big event was just a little bit peculiar, to say the least. She didn't think he'd appreciate her following him to the fresher, for starters. And she didn't think Qui-Gon would let her sleep over in his room, either. So just how was she supposed to do as requested? What was she meant to be looking for?

The problem did not seem to be with Obi-Wan. If there was a problem, it was with Master Jinn. She told Obi-Wan as much when she walked with him in the gardens.

"Ben. Don't mind me saying this…"
"But."
"Eh?
"I sense a but coming on."
"OK then. But have you noticed Master Jinn behaving a bit oddly in the last few days?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "Not really. He was a little tense this morning at breakfast. And now you come to mention it, the way he sliced that Papyri fruit down the middle with the cleaver was a bit…violent."
"I saw him smoking this morning." She confessed.

Obi-Wan was shocked. "My master doesn't smoke!"
"I wouldn't have minded, except they were the funny cigars that he confiscated from me, you know, the slightly illegal ones I got for Master Windu."
"I don't believe it." Kenobi was stunned.
"Yeah. He was smoking five at the same time."

Obi-Wan couldn't get his head round it. "There must be a logical explanation."
"Has he promised to make you any special meals, or anything like that?" She asked tentatively.
"Yes." He frowned. "How did you know?"
"Intuition." She gulped.
"He's going to open that bottle of Corellian brandy that Chancellor Valorum gave him as a present last year."
"Ben?"
"Yes." He looked mystified.
"Do yourself a big favor."
"And what might that be?"
"Tell him you're on a diet."
"Sorry?" Obi-Wan was now totally confused.
"I think you'll find it's safer in the long run."

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Qui-Gon Jinn paced the floor of his apartment. His padawan had come back earlier that afternoon and told his master he had decided to fast, for fear of repeating last years upset stomach. And then he'd given Qui-Gon such a distrustful look that the Jedi master had blushed to the roots of his long hair. His padawan did not trust him. Well, he supposed that was only right. He'd given him no reason to trust him.

More to the point, his plan to dope his padawans' food had flown out the window. Damn, damn, a thousand times damn!

Now what was he going to do?

Jemmiah knew. She had somehow got wind of what he was going to do and alerted the boy to the dangers. He'd never underestimate that one ever again. And if she knew, who else did?

He wished he could feel guiltier, but he couldn't. That would come later, like it had for the last two years. Especially last year. He'd really overdone the laxatives on that occasion…

Well, he'd make it up to Obi-Wan this time. He promised himself. It would have looked better if Obi-Wan had just fallen asleep naturally but now a change of plan was called for.

He hesitated briefly by his padawans doorway before entering into the room.

May the force forgive me, he thought, for what I am about to do…

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"Qui-Gon!" Dex Berlingside strode towards his friend in utter astonishment. "Old friend, I didn't expect to see you here!"
"Evidently." Qui-Gon said coolly.
"Where's your padawan?"

Qui-Gon smiled thinly as he looked around the busy, bustling temple gardens. It seemed alive with tiny bodies and excited initiates and padawans, and some almost as excited masters. This would be the first time he would be able to enjoy the spectacle without having to worry about making a fool of himself.

"My padawan couldn't make it."
"Again?" Mace wandered over to join in the conversation, followed alarmingly with Yoda and Jemmiah.
"He's not sick is he?" Berlingside asked.
"No, no. He's…just indisposed."
"Indisposed, you say?"
"Yes, well. He was feeling very tired, so I thought it might be a good idea to let him sleep on for a bit." Qui-Gon tried to keep his satisfaction under control. He'd put Obi-Wan into such a deep trance that he might as well have been an Ankula in the hibernation period.
"What a generous master he has." Mace grinned.
"I thought he deserved a little spoiling. He did so well in that Physics test…"
"History." Jemmiah corrected.
"…History test," amended Qui-Gon with a touch of irritation, "that I felt he could do with some rest."

"What a shame you've missed out on taking part in the sports day, Master Jinn." Jemmiah said, watching as two Jedi's acting as stewards began to check the obstacle course.
"Yes. I'm very upset about that. Nevermind, though. It can't be helped."

He was really thinking that he would never have to go through the misery of this ridiculous charade ever again. He'd done it!

Yoda shook his head.

"A pity, it is, to see such loyalty and dedication go un-rewarded."
Qui-Gon began to feel edgy as he saw a brief exchange of glances between Jemmiah and Yoda. Something was going on.
"We don't do things for reward, Master." Qui-Gon replied uneasily.
"True, this is. But miss out you should not."
"What do you mean?" Qui-Gon felt the sudden need for one of Jemmiah's contraband cigars.
"Enter the race, you shall." Yoda tilted his head to one side, studying him.
"B-but master, I...I have no padawan. It's a padawan/master event. I cannot take part."

Yoda smiled.

"I was your master. You were my padawan. Entered you for next few events, I have. Incase sick, Obi-Wan was." He added pointedly.

Qui-Gon went white.

"No sack race there is, I'm afraid." Yoda tapped his cane on the ground. "Kneel!" He commanded, and Qui-Gon bent down on his knees in utter bewilderment.
"It proved too controversial." Mace grinned. "So Master Yoda had the foresight to replace it with this magnificent obstacle race for two."

Yoda climbed onto Qui-Gon's back, like a rider on a horse. He brandished his stick and poked his former padawan in the ribs.

"Giddeeup!"