Qui rolled out of his room sometime after nine o’clock. Apparently, this wasn’t a good way to start his relationship with Syfo-Dias, for Jinn had never quite seen such a look of utter disapproval of the likes of the one which faced him across the breakfast table.

“What time do you call this Master Jinn?” Master Syfo-Dias enquired.

“Breakfast time?” Qui countered. He’d just taken a shovel to his hole and dug himself a little deeper.

Dias nodded abruptly to the seat in front of him, pretending to ignore Qui-Gon’s comment, and making things seem only worse.

Qui moved toward the low table but didn’t take his seat; “Can I go to the canteen?”

Again, he was put on the end of another ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that’ kind of glare; “No, young Master Jinn,” Vance murmured, nodding again, more forcefully, at the seat.

Qui glanced disapprovingly at the fruit, blue milk and dry toast on the table; “Master Dooku always lets me go.”

Syfo-Dias’ eyes shot onto him, and Jinn realised now that he hadn’t just dug a deep hole for himself, he’d buried himself in it, too; “What did I tell you yesterday, Master Jinn?”

Qui’s hands found his pockets and he shrugged.

“You are trying my patience,” Dias went on, managing to keep his calm in a way that unnerved Qui; he could read Master Dooku’s irritation and moods, but Dias was a whole new ball game. And one too hard to follow, at that.

“I’m not,” Jinn said quietly, not quite sure why he was being so difficult, and denying it, too. He knew he’d regret it later.

“Aren’t you?” Vance retorted, sitting back and eyeing Qui sceptically.

“No.”

“Take a seat, Master Jinn.”

Qui felt his brow twitch; “Master Dooku calls me Qui-Gon. Why can’t you?”

“Sit down, Master Jinn.”

There was force behind that sentence. Jinn could feel it running up his arm like an insidious chill. He moved forward and dropped vigorously into the seat, knocking the edge of the table and toppling the blue milk in the process. He didn’t flinch as it began to pour over the surface and trickle down into Dias’ lap.

They stared at one another. The atmosphere was tense.

After a moment or two, Syfo-Dias sighed. He dabbed his mouth with a napkin then got to his feet, beginning to then wipe himself down; “You shall clean up this mess whilst I change, Padawan,” he said, “I also recommend you eat something now, for there will be no other opportunity until dinner time.” He then walked off into his bedroom.

Qui folded his arms and sat stark still. After a minute or so of this, he deflated. What was wrong with him? He felt like he was boiling up inside, and he was ashamed of his behaviour, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d never felt like this before, and he wasn’t sure how best to deal with it.

Leaning over the table, he grabbed another napkin and began to wipe up the milk, before he then grabbed a banana and rammed it down his throat. It tasted horrid, but he didn’t really pay much attention to it. Once everything seemed in order, he skulked into the small kitchen and looked out of the window, toward the horizon of Coruscant. The sun was quite high by now, but the sky was still red. It wasn’t a good sign.

He sighed and ran his hand over his head once more, finding himself wondering what Master Dooku was doing right now. He hadn’t seen him for what seemed like ages and he was worried for him. Asking Syfo-Dias about this wouldn’t exactly be the next most tactful thing to do, but if he didn’t hear something soon, he wasn’t going to have much choice.

---

The Temple was sombre today. Jinn hung his head a little as he paced forlornly after Master Syfo-Dias, keeping pace with him, but remaining just in his shadow, like a child who doesn’t want to be seen with his parent. He didn’t pass anyone he particularly knew, yet everyone seemed to know who he was, and he felt like everyone was talking about him in hushed voices as he walked by. News of Master Dooku’s suspension surely must have infiltrated every corner of the Temple’s walls by now, and he knew that he’d be tarred by that same brush, associated with both a so-called ‘reckless’ Jedi and Allyaah’s recent death.

Syfo-Dias didn’t seem to notice any of this, or rather, Jinn felt, that he chose not to. He was like that - he only paid attention to things if he felt a need to. He wasn’t like Master Dooku at all.

“Chin up, Qui!” someone suddenly called.

Jinn snapped out of his reverie and looked up to see Tahl coming his way; his mouth rose temporarily into a smile and he was about to shout a reply when Master Syfo-Dias said; “Hurry along now, Master Jinn. We’re already late.”

He was then ushered past his friend and refused a single word in exchange. Jinn growled inwardly - he was really beginning to dislike this man, and it wasn’t often that he allowed himself to dislike anyone. “She was just saying hi,” he whined as they stepped into a lift with another couple of Masters and Padawans.

“She shall have plenty of time when you are at your own leisure.”

Jinn sighed as loudly as he could.

“Enough of that, Master Jinn.”

“Please call me Qui-Gon, sir.”

“Mas_Ter, I believe, is the correct term.”

“Yeah, Mas-Tir… it’s what I meant.”

“I don’t believe so.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I am inclined to think so.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

Qui could see he was winding Master Syfo-Dias up now; the Jedi Master’s pallid cheeks were rising a little in colour, yet he still refused to allow himself to fall to Jinn’s level, especially with the two other pairs of Jedi being in the lift with them.

“I was under the impression that I was the mentor around here, Master Jinn,” was his best available response.

“Qui-Gon,” Jinn said slowly and patronisingly, “Repeat after me.”

Vance was almost trembling now, and Qui knew that it wasn’t with fear. He also knew that he’d gone way too far.

As the lift stopped, all three of the Jedi duos stepped out of it, the other two seeming quite glad to get away from the minefield of Qui-Gon and Vance; as soon as they had scuttled off, Jinn watched Dias turn on him; “Master Jinn, you are being purposefully rude and obnoxious!” he growled, “Never in my time here have I encountered a Padawan as brash, arrogant and uncouth as you. Not since -”

“Master Dooku?” Jinn muttered, raising his eyebrow.

Syfo-Dias sighed, looking down on Qui as though he were a flea-infested dog in need of a good bath; “Yes. Exactly that,” he hissed, “And I do not wished to be reminded of him. He has moulded you into a copy of himself. In the next three months, Master Jinn, I hope to change that and make you into a proper Jedi.”

“What’s your problem with my master?” Qui snapped, hands balled up into fists and eyes flaring, “What’s he ever done to you?”

“He made mistakes, Padawan. Do not fashion yourself after such a misshapen Jedi Knight.”

Dias turned and walked on, and Jinn could see that he, too, had clenched his hands into tight fists.

Qui didn’t move. He watched Syfo-Dias get further and further away, but he didn’t move. His rigid arms and legs were trembling now. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care; ‘Misshapen’? How dare he call his mentor that?

Everything felt so wrong. He couldn’t put up with this. He wasn’t going to.

Dias got a good hundred metres down the corridor from him before he finally turned back to look at the Padawan; “Come along, Master Jinn.”

Qui-Gon stared - ‘make me’ his eyes said.

Syfo-Dias only stared back, though; “Hurry up, boy.”

‘Boy?’ Qui’s mind gasped. He hadn’t been called ‘boy’ for years! Not like that, in such a derogatory way. His gaze tightened, still beaming messages to the distant Jedi.

“Don’t make me drag you,” Dias added with a note of finality, folding his arms, and closing Jinn further out.

Qui inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and blinking away the savage tears. He then began to march, slowly and surely, toward the Jedi Master. He wouldn’t let Dias get the better of him, he’d promised himself that. For his Master’s sake.

---

They reached one of the training halls. Eventually. Qui had never had such a long journey, over such short a distance, in his life. He longed to run home already.

Master Syfo-Dias made Jinn sit down on a bench whilst he walked over to speak with some Jedi Jinn hadn’t seen before, a tall, slim female Ithorian. Qui folded his arms over again meanwhile and looked away, slouching on the bench. There were two groups of Younglings training in there, and also a Master was giving his fully-grown Padawan some final tips before, Qui guessed, the Padawan took the Trials.

Qui blinked slowly as his Master’s words came back to him; he watched the distant mentor laugh and joke with his Padawan, pride etched into his face as he watched his protégé rehearse some fine lightsabre moves, and Qui realised that that’s where he would be one day. Or at least he hoped so.

But what of Master Dooku’s words, exactly? He said he’d be a Jedi Knight soon - how soon did he mean? Was he truly on the verge of leaving his Master? Qui-Gon swallowed, feeling a tad uneasy - he didn’t feel ready yet, and the thought of leaving his mentor, of having to move out and live alone, seemed rather too large an obstacle for him right now.

The next thought hit him like a ton of bricks, though - what if Master Syfo-Dias tried to get him through the Trials, before the three months were out? What if it was him, and not Master Dooku, who saw him through to being a Jedi Knight? Qui swallowed again, harder - he couldn’t allow that to happen… and yet, if he was entered into the Trials, he couldn’t fail on purpose!

“Master Jinn!” Dias shouted for the third time, and Qui fell back into the present. He looked at the Jedi Master and saw that he was gesturing for him to go over there. Qui sighed, his mind mulling uneasily over his recent thoughts as he made his way over.

“Master Mox will have you in her group this morning,” Master Syfo-Dias said as he reached him.

Jinn blinked, needing a mental double-take, “Huh?” he asked.

“It seems to me that your previous mentor failed to keep you up-to-date with your studies. Your name certainly doesn’t seem to crop up often in many of the classes this Temple runs for your benefit.”

“Wha -?”

“Have you done much geography, Master Jinn?”

“Of course!”

“Who taught you?”

“Master Dooku.”

“And cultural studies?”

“Master Dooku teaches me them, too.”

“Literacy? Languages?”

“Master Dooku.”

“And you think he can truly offer you enough, do you?”

“Of course, why not…?”

Dias turned to the Ithorian, Master Mox, and decided to ignore Jinn for a second; “He may need to catch up,” he murmured, “I don’t know what level the rest of your adolescents are, but I doubt he‘ll be amongst the brightest.”

Jinn felt his mouth drop - did Master Syfo-Dias just accuse him of being thick…?

“It is no problem,” Master Mox replied, looking briefly at Qui-Gon, “Though I am sure Master Dooku was a competent teacher.”

Jinn nodded a thank you to her.

“We shall see,” Dias countered, patting Jinn on the shoulder in a way that was more disconcerting than friendly, and then left him with Mox for the rest of the morning.

---

Qui found the geography classes rather interesting. Master Mox didn’t joke as much as Master Dooku used to, and she seemed to prefer the class to read text rather than see many images, which defied the point in Jinn’s opinion, seeing as you couldn’t ‘read’ a landscape or a weather condition in real life - you had to see it - but it sure beat having to spend the first morning of his imprisonment (something he’d taken to seeing these three months as) with Vance.

He found out that he wasn’t far behind at all on his studies - he didn’t think Master Dooku would let him be. Master D. was constantly reinforcing the value of knowledge, but just preferred to teach Jinn in a more casual way, one-to-one. All masters were different - it was what made being a Jedi so much fun.

By the end of Master Mox’s lesson, Jinn had found out a little about the volcanoes of Sullust and how the population survived in their subterranean cities, but the thing that preoccupied his mind more than that was his ever-rumbling stomach. He ran to the canteen as soon as he was dismissed, praying that he’d get there before Dias collared him. As soon as he made the hall, he dived into the queue, but still didn’t feel quite safe yet; he found that he was involuntarily hiding behind people, crouching down a little and hiding his face as best he could, as though this might save him from being found by Syfo. He began to feel like a fugitive on the run from the tyrannical law, or something.

He made it through the queue though, and thenceforth wolfed down two helpings of his meal, and two deserts afterward, all the time becoming a little more relaxed as he continued to evade Dias just a little longer. By the end of his meal, he felt quite proud that he’d gone so long without being discovered, but was still certain that he’d get a ‘I never said you could go to the canteen’ lecture whenever he was found.

Some people were still occasionally pointing him out and whispering in that way where their voices managed to carry across a noisy hall. Jinn was feeling himself beginning to anger again as he found that he was the subject, more or less, or much of the Temple’s gossip. He saw one of the Padawans he’d been in the lift with this morning - she was pointing at him and laughing. He wasn’t sure whether or not he should feel proud about his earlier display of disobedience, but he wasn’t given chance to dwell on this for a hand suddenly clamped down on his shoulder, and a delicate voice then trickled down his ear canal; “My apartment, Master Jinn,” it said.

Qui-Gon sighed; ‘Here we go’ he thought.

---

“I’m not trying to make your life difficult,” Dias insisted as he pushed Jinn down onto a stool in his room, sitting opposite him, “But you are doing everything in your power to make mine Hell.”

Qui stared back, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“And you’re still in denial!” Dias went on, holding his hand out and signalling ‘Exhibit A’; “Qui-Gon, for the Force’s sake…”

Jinn didn’t like it when Vance said his name - he’d been asking him to, yet he hated it now he heard it; “My Master did all in his power to save Allyaah,” he suddenly found himself saying, “And all he gets in thanks is a three month packing-off to some distant land, or whatever he’s doing…”

“Your Master made a mistake.”

“He had to make a mistake! We would have all died if he’d followed the rules!”

“Rules are there for a reason, Qui-Gon.”

“And sometimes we have to break them. Sometimes we have to do what’s wrong to make things right. Surely you know that, Master Syfo-Dias? Surely you know that?”

Dias sat back and observed Qui-Gon carefully for a while; “You are tenacious, young one.”

“I don’t want to be here,” he blurted out, “I want to go back to how things were. I want to be with my Master - he needs me now, more than ever. He shouldn’t be on his own right now.”

“He needs time alone.”

“He doesn’t! He needs the people who care about him to be there!”

“He has killed people, Master Jinn! Killed! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“What was he supposed to do?”

“There are always other ways!”

“And you’d have been glad to see him dead, wouldn’t you? You’d have been glad if we’d all died, and then you’d have to have gone out there. Then you would have died, too.”

Syfo-Dias leant forward now, looking hard into Jinn’s eyes; “You know that’s not true, boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You’re not yet a man.”

“I’m not a boy, either.”

“But you are still not a man.”

“Master Dooku says I’ll be a Jedi Knight soon. Then I’ll be a man, as well.”

Dias allowed himself a cool, pitiful smile; “He was mistaken if he thought the likes of you would soon pass the Trials.”

Qui glared. He felt himself beginning to boil up inside again. He wished he could cool down, but his anger just simmered on, waiting to explode.

“A Jedi must be dedicated,” Vance murmured, “And he must be earnest. You are neither, as of yet, and until you acquire one or both of these skills, you shall never pass the Trials. Be aware, Qui-Gon Jinn, there is still time for you to fail, and I would not like to be the one to pass that judgement on you. I recommend that you do as you are told and allow yourself to learn from me, for if you don‘t, I may have no choice but to release you from the Order and see you off to some less challenging career.”

Qui’s rage had suddenly dissipated into a cold horror; “You wouldn’t do that,” he whispered, his voice emerging thin from a now parched throat.

“Are you so sure?”

No, Qui said to himself, he wasn’t sure at all. But he now felt that he must have been too sure of himself if he thought that there was ever a chance that Syfo-Dias might see him through the Trials. Alas, it now seemed that, in Dias’ eyes, he wasn’t even worth the Trials...

Again Vance got up and patted Jinn’s shoulder; “I just thought you ought to know,” he said, as though he had been the proud bringer of good news, “There is no use holding onto vain dreams and illusions, Master Jinn. They will get you no where.”