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Her warm brown eyes turned suddenly fierce. "I don't care. What he's doing is wrong. Nield is a good person. He'll realize it eventually. Until then, I'll protect you. The way you protected me."
"I don't know if Nield will ever come around," Obi-Wan said, remembering the hatred in his eyes.
"He's out of control because of his grief,"
Roe
"I can't do anything," Obi-Wan said, defeated. "I can't influence Nield. He won't even talk to me."
"Is that why you called for your Jedi?" Roe
Obi-Wan nodded and touched his river stone. "If anyone can help, it is Qui-Gon Ji
He believed in his Master absolutely, even if Qui-Gon didn't believe in him.
At last the day of Qui-Gon's arrival came. Obi-Wan had been instructed to meet him directly outside the gates of the city.
He felt a rush of pleasure as he saw Qui-Gon's tall, strong figure stride toward him. A smile of relief sprang to his face.
The smile slowly faded as he saw no answering expression. Of course there was no smile on his Master's face. His former Master's face.
Obviously, the sight of his former Padawan filled the Jedi Knight with anguish.
Qui-Gon's expression smoothed and became neutral. He nodded at Obi-Wan.
No greeting. No inquiry into how he was. Fine. Obi-Wan could handle it.
He had asked for help, not comfort. He nodded back his own greeting. The two began to walk together into the city.
Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon to speak. Why didn't he? If only they could talk about what had happened, if only Qui-Gon would give him a chance to explain.
He knew one thing now. He'd known it the instant he'd seen Qui-Gon. He wanted to be a Jedi again. Not only a Jedi, but the Padawan of Qui-Gon Ji
He wanted everything he'd thrown away. He wanted his life back.
He didn't belong on Melida/Daan. He had been swept away by a cause. A just cause, a good cause, it was true. But there were other just causes in the galaxy, and he wanted to fight for those, too. It turned out that Cerasi was right. He wanted a wider life than the one he'd chosen on Melida/Daan.
He had found his true path again. That was good. Still, despair filled Obi-Wan. All he had to do was look at Qui-Gon to know that the Jedi would never take him back.
Qui-Gon had expected the awkwardness. He hadn't expected the pain.
The sight of Obi-Wan's young, hopeful face caused him to feel angry all over again. Qui-Gon struggled against the feeling. He knew he was being harsh.
He couldn't speak. He didn't want Obi-Wan to hear anger in his voice.
His first words needed to be calm.
So instead he merely nodded his greeting. He saw that his coolness had hurt the boy. And Obi-Wan had suffered so much hurt already. Slowly, as they walked, Qui-Gon's anger trickled away and compassion took its place.
"I was very grieved to hear your news about Cerasi," he said quietly.
"I am truly sorry for your loss, Obi-Wan."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan said in a constricted voice.
"There are many things to talk about," Qui-Gon continued. "But I think such things would be a distraction right now. Any problems we have with each other mean nothing in the face of a planet close to war. We should focus on the problems here."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "I agree."
"What is the latest news on Nield and Wehutti?"
"Nield is massing his forces. He has the support of Mawat and the Scavenger Young now. He is trying to get the Middle Generation to be allies again. There is a rumor that a battle will start very soon at the site where Cerasi was killed. I know that Wehutti's followers are also arming themselves. Wehutti himself is in seclusion."
Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "Is Wehutti directing his followers, or are they acting on their own?"
"I don't think Wehutti is even in contact with them," Obi-Wan said.
"He'll see no one."
"He will see us," Qui-Gon said firmly.
Wehutti's door was locked and bolted. Qui-Gon knocked loudly. There was no answer.
"We know he doesn't want visitors," Qui-Gon said. He withdrew his lightsaber from his belt. "But I don't think we need an invitation."
Qui-Gon activated the lightsaber and used it to cut through the lock.
He pushed open the door easily.
The hallway was empty, as were both rooms in the front of the house.
Cautiously, they moved up the stairs. They checked one room after another until they found Wehutti in a small back bedroom.
Food trays littered the floor. Thick blankets hung over the windows, cutting out all light. Wehutti sat in a chair pulled up to a window, even though he could not see out of it. He did not turn as they walked into the room.
Qui-Gon walked into Wehutti's field of vision and crouched down in front of him.
"Wehutti, we need to speak with you," he said.
Slowly, Wehutti turned to Qui-Gon. "There was so much confusion. I was prepared to shoot, of course. But I don't think I did."
Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan. Wehutti was reliving the day of Cerasi's death.
"There were more of the Young than we'd thought," Wehutti continued.
"We didn't think we'd actually have to use our weapons. We didn't think they'd be armed. And I didn't think that my daughter, my Cerasi, would be there. She didn't carry a weapon, did you know that?"
"Yes," Qui-Gon said.
"I had seen her a short time before. She'd come to see me. You didn't know that."
"No, I didn't," Qui-Gon said gently.
"We talked. She wanted me to stop fighting the Young. I argued. It wasn't a good visit. But then… she suggested that we not talk about things as they are, but things as they were. Her childhood. We had a few good years, before the war began again. And I remembered it all suddenly. I hadn't thought about it in so long."
Tears began to fall down Wehutti's cheeks.
"I remembered her mother. I remembered my son. Cerasi was our youngest.