Qui-Gon was somehow not surprised to find that all three of Obi-Wan's former masters were on assignment. He tracked Yoda down, grim with determination. He wanted to find out what the men had done to the boy, and why, and how they'd kept it a secret from everyone in the Temple. Well, maybe that wasn't so hard. There were ten thousand Knights, and it could have been a simple case of not meeting the same one more than once or twice. Although how his teachers had never noticed, Qui-Gon didn't know. He paused outside the small Master's door, then knocked sharply.
Yoda didn't look surprised to see him, and beckoned him into the apartment. Qui-Gon followed the little Master, and sat down in a chair when he was directed. It was the only chair big enough for someone not Master Yoda's size. It sat in a corner away from the door. Against the wall to one side, near the kitchenette, a table was shoved against the wall, two chairs on either side. Qui-Gon tried to imagine his Master sitting there, on the floor as a Padawan, and it almost made him smile. It also reminded him of why he was there, and turned back to Yoda, who had settled himself comfortably in a small chair next to the one Qui-Gon sat in. Yoda's chair lifted with a soft hum so that he could see Qui-Gon's eyes. "I would like to speak with Knight Sorin," Qui-Gon said without preamble.
Yoda sighed gently, ears twitching back slightly. "Why wish this do you?"
"Because there is much more to this... situation," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Obi-Wan is still scared." Everyone had heard about what had happened in the creche.
"Hm. Very intent you are. Personal is it?"
Qui-Gon just barely managed not to squirm. As usual, Yoda had turned the topic exactly where he did not want it to go. "No, Master," he said, and decided it was time to let Yoda know how he felt. "Somehow, we didn't notice that a Padawan was being beaten into submission," he said bluntly. "We missed how the Force was used to subdue and hurt him. I feel that the Jedi have failed Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I do not like the feeling."
Yoda's ears drew back further, and his wrinkled forehead grew more furrowed. "Understand, I do, and agree," he said finally. "Recalled to the Temple is Knight Denk. Speak with him you should also."
"And Toman?"
"To return soon. Almost finished his mission is. Knight Sorin will be recalled tomorrow."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Thank you, Master Yoda." He stood, bowed, and started out.
"Master Qui-Gon," Yoda said, and he stopped, turning to face him. "Well you have done with the boy," Yoda said. "Continue you will?"
Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes, Master," he said, and left the apartment.
His patience was stretched to the limit by the wait for Denk to return. He spent some of it observing Obi-Wan, watching the boy with the children in the creche, and with his friends during meals. The boy seemed to be happier and was more animated than he had been, and Qui-Gon was glad. According to all of the Masters the boy was working with, he was progressing well. Master Elaida had only good things to say, although Master Zichri blamed Qui-Gon for confusing Obi-Wan in the lightsaber forms. Still, even Master Yoda thought he was gaining the control he'd lost. And Theela had only good things to say about him. Obi-Wan worked hard, Qui-Gon mused one night. He'd make someone a good Padawan. He got up abruptly and busied himself with something to eat before his mind could go to the next logical step - that he take the boy as his own.
Three days after Qui-Gon's conversation with Yoda, Denk arrived. Qui-Gon waited as long as his waning patience would let him, not wanting to rush the man, but then he tracked him down. He'd never met this Knight, and had only seen the effects of his treatment of his Padawan. Every time he remembered that, he had to stop to dismiss the animosity he felt for him. It happened more than once.
The Knight who opened the door did not look much different than he had when he'd repudiated Obi-Wan. He lifted an eyebrow but stepped back to let Qui-Gon in. "Master Jinn. How can I help you?" He closed the door.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath. "Tell me about Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprenticeship to you." There was little of comfort in the room; his own common area had a soft couch and two overstuffed chairs. Everything in this room was wood, but not warm or inviting.
Denk looked at him, confused. "What do you want to know?"
"You said he was disobedient. What did you mean?"
"I said..." Denk's face darkened. "Why are you asking?"
"Obi-Wan collapsed a few weeks ago. Master Yoda has asked me to find out why."
Denk took a deep breath, and he sounded almost resigned. "Sit down, please."
Qui-Gon took the proffered seat, wondering how anyone could be comfortable on these chairs and watching the younger master as he sat down as well. "How was he disobedient?" Denk repeated.
"Yes."
Denk leaned back. "It was a constant battle to get him up in the morning. Any work with the Force was a fight. He could not find any information on the missions we were sent on. It was simply easier to work without a Padawan."
"How was his performance on your missions?"
Denk sighed shortly. "Oh, good enough, I suppose," he said doubtfully. "He was quiet while I took care of everything, but he never seemed to pay much attention to what was going on. What was the most infuriating," he said, his tone intensifying as he leaned forward, "was that he'd question what I'd done. I wondered more than once if he'd even grasped the rudiments of what I was doing."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Did he ever... get smart with you?"
Denk blinked, startled. "Get smart with me?" he asked blankly.
"Yes. I asked him something, and he responded with "Dumb question." Did he ever do that with you?"
Denk shook his head. "Not very often, and only near the beginning of our work together." There was steel in his voice. "I have little patience for that kind of behavior."
Qui-Gon took a deep breath and let it out, willing himself not to do something he'd regret. "What kind of discipline did you use?" He was almost afraid of what he'd hear.
Denk paused. "The standard didn't work with him," he said slowly. "More meditation, extra studies, even extra work... I found him asleep if he were assigned meditation, and Jocasta sent him back more times than I can count. She sent him once with a message that the Archives weren't a place to sleep." He shrugged. "I couldn't control him."
Qui-Gon knew the Knight was holding information back. What Denk said, how he described Obi-Wan, was simply not what he'd observed in the boy. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"
Denk leaned back. "Oh, he tried," he said, almost reluctantly. "I was surprised, actually, that he'd been chosen so young. He was just short of twelve when I took on his training. He couldn't hold his own in a battle with an Initiate his age." He paused a moment, then shook his head.
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Why did you take him as your Padawan?"
Denk smiled slightly. "The potential. He fairly shone with it, but I couldn't tap it." His smile widened. "Is your interest personal?" he asked.
Qui-Gon started slightly, caught off guard. "No," he said. "I'm conducting an investigation for Yoda."
Denk nodded. "You said Obi-Wan collapsed?"
"His friend found him unconscious in his room just after Toman repudiated him."
Denk leaned forward, surprised. "Obi-Wan is no longer Padawan?"
"No."
"Hm." Denk said, and there seemed to be a sadness about him. "I wish him luck."
"Thank you, Master Denk," Qui-gon said, and got to his feet. "May I speak to you again, if I have more questions?"
"Of course," Denk said.
Qui-Gon opened the door and stepped back. A half-familiar Foilani woman stood just outside the door, and looked startled to see him. Then she frowned, and he recognized the expression as she stepped out of the way. "I'm sorry," he said courteously. "I didn't realize you were here." It was the woman who had frowned so fiercely when he reported what he'd found when sent after Obi-Wan.
"It's quite all right, Master Jinn," she said, her voice musical. He had to smile in response; he'd forgotten that members of her race often spoke in sing-song. They could be very pleasant to hear.
"You have an advantage over me," he said. "I do not know your name."
"Of course," she said. "I'm sorry. I am Di'ona."
"I'm pleased to meet you, Di'ona," he said, and stepped from the doorway, starting for the lift. Turning the corner, his skin crawling, he glanced back. She was staring after him, that same expression of anger on her face.
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