Dooku had not spoken of the future. Qui-Gon would now undergo the trials. They both knew he was ready. Qui-Gon waited for some parting words on the long journey home, but none came.

They passed from the landing platform into the great hallway of the Temple. Almost immediately, Qui-Gon saw a familiar form ahead and his heart lifted. Tahl had come to welcome him.

They had not seen each other in years. They walked toward each other, and they clasped each other's shoulders in their old greeting. Qui-Gon searched Tahl's striped green-and-gold eyes, needing to see that she was well and in good spirits. She nodded to let him know this was so.

"You're tired," she said.

"It was a long mission," he admitted.

He could feel Dooku waiting impatiently behind him.

They were scheduled to go straight to the Jedi Council for their report. Tahl, too, felt his Master's irritation. She nodded a quick good-bye and mouthed "later."

Qui-Gon turned back and walked in step with Dooku. "I see your old friendship has not died, even after all these years," Dooku said.

"I trust Tahl with my life," Qui-Gon said.

Dooku was silent for the entire length of the long hallway.

"You have been an excellent Padawan, Qui-Gon," he said at last. "I could not ask for a better one. I will tell the Council this as you face the trials. But I will not tell them this: You have a flaw. This in itself is not a bad thing. Each of us has one. It is bad when we don't see it. Yet what is far worse is to see your flaw and to think it is not a flaw at all." Dooku stopped. "Perhaps it is my fault that I was never able to teach you my most important lesson."

Qui-Gon looked at his Master. The long, elegant nose, the dark hooded eyes, the pale skin. It was a face he knew intimately, but he also knew, and had known for some time, that it was a face he did not love.

At first this had bothered him — until he realized he did not need to love his Master, merely learn from him. He was grateful to have a Master so strong in the Force. He had learned much.

"Your flaw is your need for connection to the living Force. Qui-Gon, the galaxy is crowded with beings. The Jedi Order is here to support you. Nevertheless you must carry the following knowledge in your heart," Dooku said. "You are always alone, and betrayal is inevitable."

Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon was the Master now, and he still remembered the lesson. It was the only one Dooku had given him that he had not heeded. Qui-Gon had come to believe that beings were more complicated than such a simple formula. And he had come to see that to live without friendship or trust was to inhabit a galaxy he did not want to live in.

Yet hadn't events in his own life proved his Master right?

Qui-Gon felt the hardness of the bench underneath him. He and Obi-Wan Kenobi were on a space cruiser crowded with beings. His eyes were closed. Obi-Wan was beside him, no doubt thinking that Qui-Gon was sleeping. Behind his closed lids, Qui-Gon imagined he could feel the speed of the ship vaulting through the stars. Every kilometer that passed in a flash carried him forward into an uncertain future.

Betrayal should never take you by surprise.

But it did. Every time.

His first apprentice, who he had nurtured, had betrayed him. Xanatos had turned to the dark side, had invaded the Temple itself, had tried to kill Yoda. Now Xanatos was dead. He had chosen death rather than surrender, stepping off firm ground into a toxic pool on his homeworld of Telos. Qui-Gon had leaped to prevent him even as his heart knew he was too late. He had seen the man Xanatos fall, blue eyes blazing with hatred, but at the same time, he had seen the boy he had once known, blue eyes full of eagerness, full of promise. It had cut him, made him grieve. Months had passed since the incident, and Qui-Gon felt the memory as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. Had his former apprentice failed his training? Or had Qui-Gon been the one to fail?

His second Padawan, whom he also loved, had also betrayed him. Obi-Wan sat beside him now, but Qui-Gon did not feel the old harmony between them. Obi-Wan had left the Jedi Order in order to devote himself to a cause on a planet they had tried to save. Qui-Gon still remembered standing on the rocky ground of Melida/Daan, seeing something in the eyes of his apprentice he had never seen before. Defiance. Obi-Wan would not listen to Qui-Gon's order to leave. He had remained.

Obi-Wan had come to see that he had been wrong. He had done everything he could to rebuild what they'd had between them. They had begun on a long road. Trust was the goal.

Tahl's disapproving frown rose in his mind. You are always so dramatic, Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan is a boy who made a mistake. Do not hold him responsible for your failure with Xanatos.

Was that what he was doing?

Time, you need, Yoda had advised. That is all.

Qui-Gon accepted that. But how much time was appropriate? When would he know? And would Obi-Wan sense his struggle and come to resent him for his stubborn heart?

Your flaw is your need for connection to the living Force.

Qui-Gon saw the truth of this. He had not completely discounted what Dooku had to say. In his daily life he tried to keep that connection in balance with his Jedi path. No attachments. He did not see this as a conflict. He saw it as a great truth — that he could love, but have no wish to possess. That he could trust, but not resent those who let him down.

Lately, that last one had been tricky.

"We're stopping for fuel," Obi-Wan said, breaking into his thoughts.

They were returning from a routine training mission, and their pace was not rushed. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Master, but do you wish to disembark? We'll be here for several hours."

Qui-Gon opened his eyes. "Where are we?"

"A planet called Junction 5. Do you know it?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Let's disembark," he decided. "It will do us good to stretch our legs. And I bet you could use some decent food."

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan said, bending for his pack. Qui-Gon frowned. There it was. Once Obi-Wan would have agreed, would have grinned at him and said, "How did you guess?" Now Obi-Wan was intent on being a "correct"

Padawan. He would not admit that the days of gray, tasteless food and protein pellets were dismaying.

Maybe it wasn't a case of forgiveness at all, Qui-Gon thought as they joined the line to disembark. Maybe it was a case of missing what he'd had. He had his correct Padawan back. Now he missed the imperfect boy.