Jedi Artisan 031

After recovering his strength & mental power through a deep meditation, Zane had opened his eyes to see Qui-Gon beckoning towards him. 

Following after the Jedi Master, they soon founds themselves beside a knee-high garden wall. The sun was just barely creeping over the horizon, and a family of birds in a nearby tree were chirping. Beyond the palace gardens, they had a clear view of the entire city. The foundries, and factories were churning out smoke, and many clan soldiers were assembling tight knit security teams. It appeared word of his challenges had spread, and some capitalistic minded individuals were already setting up food stalls. 

“It appears you've started something of a holiday, Zane.” Qui-Gon said with some amusement as he followed his gaze. 

“I wouldn't say it's very honorable to profit off of a gift giving ceremony.” Zane rolled his eyes, a hint of mirth bleeding through his expression. 

“Yes, when Master Yoda had you tagging along in my transport, he said you were here to enrich the Mandalorians with a cultural exchange. As an Artisan, I had imagined you might weave a few sets of clothes. Never in my wildest imagination did I believe you would produce Beskar.” Qui-Gon replied, shaking his head in amused disbelief. 

“Mandalorians typically hate receiving gifts. They feel something that is not sweated for, is unearned. If I had sewn some fancy shirts together, they would not even deign to show up. Perhaps if I had crafted items bearing the crests of their clans, a few youths would participate. But to so shockingly convince the masses that we Jedi are serious about ending this war, we have to get their attention. And nothing will garner the attention of a Mandalorian more than unmarked Beskar armor. The stuff attracts a Mandalorian like a fly to poo-doo.” Zane said, calmly looking out at the people setting their stalls up in the town square down below. 

“Ah, I see. I've done some studying of my own. The act of offering this challenge will be seen as a gift in itself. Very clever.” Qui-Gon remarked, stroking his beard. 

Zane let a moment of silence pass as they continued to stroll through the garden. Qui-Gon was content not to press the issue, moving steadily by his side. Their pace was not fast, and gravel crunched beneath their feet as they advanced. 

“Have you considered trying it?” Zane said eventually.

“That box of yours surely is something.” Qui-Gon replied, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression. “I feared you might bring the whole palace down with its making.” 

Zane glanced at the elder man, expecting to see a small smirk, but Qui-Gon was looking at him dead-on, entirely serious. Sagging his shoulders, Zane nodded along, knowing this was Qui-Gon's way of showing both concern, and a warning. The student of Dooku wasn't telling him what to do-he was a free thinker like that-but he was letting Zane see what he had almost wrought. Sometimes to self reflect, having an outsider's perspective was truly important. 

“This was perhaps my darkest creation yet. The undercurrents of Mandalore run deep. This obsession with pride, honor, and martial traditions paired with the feelings of treachery & being forgotten truly exploded in a manner beyond my expectations.” Zane said, shaking his head. ‘All but saying it was out of my hands.’ 

“Hmm. Perhaps. Whilst I am ignorant on the Artisan's artes, I understand that you had already crafted for several hours before creating this device of yours. You are strongly connected to the Force, Zane, no lesser than Windu in that regard. However, one must be aware of their limits.” Qui-Gon added, offering both praise, and advice, not even a hint of rebuke upon his lips. 

They passed a bed of pale flowers whose petals had not yet opened to the sun, and Zane took his criticism with a thoughtful look upon his face. Although he didn't consider himself the greatest, he had done a great deal of studying in this lifetime, and learned a great deal from Master Oogway. He had thought himself quite humble, but perhaps this string of recent successes whilst crafting had made him conceited, and arrogant? 

Zane looked at him, but Qui-Gon did not elaborate immediately. His gaze had settled on a stone bench where the morning sun was beginning to reach.

“Have you eaten?” Qui-Gon gently asked. 

A second later, Zane's stomach grumbled, much to the Jedi Master's amusement. 

“Peace, Zane, I know that look. It is one I had given my own Master many a time. No, I did not prophesie your stomach grumbling, I have eyes, you know? All that work at the forge…any reasonable person would become hungry after experiencing that & then sleeping the night away.” Qui-Gon shook his head, amused by the banter, as if he were reliving some past memory. 

As for Zane, although he certainly sensed the gap in perspective due to age, he felt like Qui-Gon was treating him more like a slightly experienced equal-like an older brother figure-rather than a teacher. Typically, due to his young age, many Jedi had a tendency to talk down to him. Perhaps, for the first time, he felt like he was being talked to like a peer, like two Jedi Knights shooting the breeze together. 

“Anyhow. Before we consider the proper disposition of power in the universe, or get lost on a tangent, we might as well attend to breakfast.” Qui-Gon said, taking the lead. 

Instead of going somewhere, Qui-Gon produced a bundle wrapped in a clean cloth.

Zane stared at it, raising an eyebrow as he sensed the faintest touch of the Force inside. That is to say, everything was touched by the Force, but this food item was about as Force Sensitive as a beginner Initiate. 

“Were you expecting to take you to a restaurant?” Qui-Gon asked in amusement, taking a seat at a stone bench. 

“Remarkable. A restaurant could never be as interesting as whatever you've cooked up, Master Qui-Gon.” Zane said with a hint of awe. 

Inside were four small rolls, dark at the edges and scattered with seeds. Qui-Gon offered him one. It was still faintly warm. The crust gave beneath Zane’s thumb, releasing the smell of toasted grain and something sweet. He took a bite, then looked down at it, marveling at its texture. 

“How do you like it?” Qui-Gon asked. 

“Perhaps this is the best thing I have ever eaten.” Zane solemnly stated, and guarded the roll in his hand from the birds in the air as if he were hiding a treasure away from a miserly dragon. 

“It is not often that I have an opportunity to prove my culinary skills, but after witnessing your tribulation, I felt it necessary to help a friend in need. Baking, often helps me provide material support, when perhaps moral support isn't what my companion wants at the moment.” Qui-Gon softly chuckled, revealing that he was all too aware that not everyone wanted a lecture. 

Zane remained standing for another moment.

“You bake….” He said, his focus seemingly lost on the roll in his hand. “How have I not known this?”

“It seldom comes up during negotiations.” Qui-Gon cheekily replied, then happily started feeding crumbs to local wildlife. 

Before long, Qui-Gon resembled a Disney Princess, as all sorts of birds, and small mammals crowded on his shoulders, or looked up at him hopefully, crowding around his boots. 

Zane sat beside him and took another bite, losing himself in the warmth. 

“Does Obi-Wan know?”

“Unfortunately, he has many more trials & tribulations before he has earned a moment of sweet relief.” Qui-Gon shrugged. 

“And here I thought your private life consisted of meditation and irritating the Council.” Zane joked. 

“I find time for both. Although I believe you have me beat on that last part.” Qui-Gon said, raising an eyebrow. 

Qui-Gon brushed a seed from his beard, and they ate quietly for a few moments. Along the wall opposite them, sunlight crept over the leaves of a climbing vine. He clapped his hands, wiping the crumbs off of them, then leaned back, basking in the light. With his eyes closed, the middle aged man asked a question that made Zane's heart churn: “Want to learn?” 

Zane glanced at this radiant man as he peacefully became in tune with the Force. With animals snuggling up to him, and a vine tickling his big nose, Qui-Gon cut both the comical, and mystical figure. Zane, meanwhile, didn't entirely lose out in grandeur, however, his sloppy, slightly too big robe, and utility belt full of useful objects didn't compare to the professional homeless man in front of him. As the wind breezed through his hair, Zane could only nod. 

“You have my thanks, Qui-Gon. As a Jedi Artisan, I am interested in crafting anything related to the Force. This unique method of creating food is simply inspiring. I had imagined organic materials-like medicine/potions-being imbued with concepts related to the Force, but food is so temporary, that I had only ever thought to modify a salt shaker, not the raw materials!” Zane said, beginning to speak faster than his usual cadence as he spoke about a topic that truly interested him. 

“You'll master it quickly, I believe, Zane.” Qui-Gon said with his hands resting behind his back. “From what I observed during your forging, baking bread & crafting Beskar aren't too far removed.” 

“From the sound of things, you should come down to my workshop sometime, Qui-Gon. If they're so similar…perhaps we could work together to create something.” Zane proposed. 

“Hmm. Often times a creation is strongest when worked on together. Many of the Jedis greatest feats were only possible due to our willingness to work together. However ‘too many hands in the kitchen’ is a cautionary tale well worth listening to.” Qui-Gon eventually settled on this mixed response. 

“Soo I didn't hear a no~.” Zane replied with a grin. 

“Ah, the youth of today. First they want you to teach them how to make bread, then Armageddon.” Qui-Gon sighed, and looked up to the sky as if it was all coming to an end. 

Zane rolled his eyes at his friend's sarcasm, and lightly punched him in the shoulder. 

“Under the old bull's influence, this young buck might just have to modify an oven. It might just eat the souls of those Jedi Younglings who do not go to bed on time.” Zane said in a sage tone of voice. 

“Lacking in imagination, your generation still has much to learn, Zane.” Qui-Gon shook his head. “The efficiency would be much higher if the electricity were fueled by the souls collected from the lower levels of Coruscant.” 

The old man now looked over at him with a chastising look as if he were well and truly saddened by him, this failure. 

Zane couldn't hold it in anymore, and snorted. 

Qui-Gon lowly chuckled in response. 

Like that, they hung out for the next hour or so talking about unimportant issues, and all sorts of mundane things. 

Eventually, however, the hustle & bustle down in the town square started to really pick up in noise, and Zane decided he finally had to get his lazy bones up. 

“Sorry to cut this short, but I have business to attend to. I wouldn't want an entire city of angry Mandalorians trying to kill me after they didn't get a shot at taking that Beskar.” Zane joked, and then moved to depart. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he turned back and nodded. “By the way, Qui-Gon, thank you, I needed that.” 

“Anytime, Zane.” Qui-Gon returned the solemn nod. Then he said something that had Zane stumble forward. “But do not become reliant upon these. This is your one and only time.” 

Zane’s mouth twitched as he saw Qui-Gon very seriously hold up the last sweet roll. Shaking his head, the young Jedi Artisan departed for the foundry, where he had some last minute arrangements to make before going to the town square. 

Qui-Gon faintly smiled, and then waved his hand, ever so slightly pushing downward with the Force. 

Seconds later, a small Padawan came tumbling out of a tree, his robe stained green, and a leaf in his hair. Trace amounts of fear & concern were in his eyes. 

“Master Qui-Gon, you were joking about the soul furnace, right?” Obi-Wan hesitantly asked. 

Qui-Gon hummed a little tune, mimicking a malevolent beat that played during the Terror Box's construction. He then stood up, and began to walk away. 

“M-Master?” Obi-Wan called at his back. 

“Oh, Obi-Wan. Where are my manners, you must be hungry, care for a sweet roll?” 

When Obi-Wan was going to press the matter, his stomach growled outrageously, much to his embarrassment. Qui-Gon amusedly tossed the delicious treat to the boy, then walked away. The Jedi Master then noted Zane's destination, and shook his head as he had a slight premonition of what was going to take place. 

It appeared the competition this year for ‘High Council's Most Hated’ was quite fierce.