
Bruck circled him, his lightsaber held in a defensive attitude. The training sabers were set on low power.
A blow would cause a sting, not an injury. Blocks littered the floor to make the ground uneven. The lights
were kept at half-power to add to the difficulty. A blow to the neck would declare the winner.
Qui-Gon watched, waiting for Bruck to make his next move. Bruck began to fade to the left. Qui-Gon
noted how his hands tightened on his lightsaber. Impatience had always been Bruck's weakness, just as it
was Obi-Wan's....
Was his former Padawan's impatience getting him in trouble back on the treacherous world of
Melida/Daan?
Too late, Qui-Gon saw the flash of the lightsaber. Bruck had utilized a simple trick, a trick that never
should have fooled him. He had reversed direction. The blow came down as Bruck leaped into the air,
twisting to come at Qui-Gon's opposite side. The blow missed Qui-Gon's neck by a hair. Qui-Gon
ducked, and took the blow hard on his shoulder. As he staggered, he heard the onlookers gasp.
He'd had enough of this. He was tired of his own inattention. It was time to end it.
Qui-Gon allowed his body to ease into his misstep, fooling Bruck. The boy came at him too eagerly, his
balance off. Qui-Gon whirled and attacked. Bruck stumbled backward, surprised. He flailed at Qui-Gon
with his lightsaber. Another mistake. Qui-Gon's next blow had all his weight behind it. Bruck nearly
dropped his lightsaber.
Qui-Gon pushed his advantage. He attacked, his lightsaber now just a blur in the dusky light. Slashing,
parrying, whirling to come at Bruck from yet another angle, then another, Qui-Gon forced the boy back
into a corner. Now the murmurs he heard from the onlookers were of appreciation for the skill of a Jedi
Master. Qui-Gon tuned them out. The battle was not over until the final defeat.
Bruck tried a last assault, but the boy was tired. It was not hard for Qui-Gon to knock Bruck's weapon
from his hand and lightly touch the end of his own lightsaber to the boy's neck.
"End point, it is," Yoda announced.
The two exchanged the ritual bows and the customary eye contact. At the end of every match, each
Jedi showed respect to the other and gratitude for his lesson, win or lose. Qui-Gon had fought many
times in this way. Sometimes, Jedi students could not control their frustration or anger during the ritual
bow. But in Bruck's steady gaze Qui-Gon saw only respect. That was an improvement.
But he saw other things. Curiosity. Desire.
Bruck was going to be thirteen in a few days. He had not yet been chosen as a Padawan. Time was
running out. He was most likely wondering if Qui-Gon would choose him.
Everyone was wondering, Qui-Gon knew. Teachers, students, even the Council. Why had he returned
to theTemple ? Had he come to choose another apprentice?
Qui-Gon turned away from the speculation in Bruck's eyes. He would never choose a Padawan again.
He returned his lightsaber to his belt. Bruck replaced his in the rack where the senior students left their
weapons after training. Qui-Gon quickly walked through the dressing and washing rooms and activated