Title: Go All the Way
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Fandom: Star Wars
Relationships: Xanatos duCrion & Qui-Gon Jinn
Content Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Canon-level Violence, Temporary Major Character Death (Xanatos duCrion)
Author Notes: The first scene with Xanatos is based on his canon death. I absolutely googled his last words and the scenario then wrote it my way. I have no idea how the actual scene happens in the books and I don’t really care if I got it wrong.
Word Count: 1,316
Summary: Xanatos duCrion dies and wakes up in the past. He realizes that someone has to save the Jedi Order and if its gonna be him, he’s going to go all the way.
“I am your biggest failure,” Xanatos told his former master. “Live with that.” He smiled. This was the cruelest thing he could do to his master. “And live with this.”
Xanatos threw himself backwards into one of the acid pools. The last thing he saw were Master Jinn and his replacement’s stricken faces as the pain got the better of him and he screamed.
Everything grew cold as his nerves died and his brain could not understand what he was experiencing.
Everything went dark and a weight settled in the bones, like he as laying at the bottom of a deep lake—though he was aware enough to know he didn’t have bones anymore. Currents stirred above him, he felt them but none of them could move him. He was a stone in the deep.
Then a droplet landed on the surface, far above him. He felt it, knew it was some young Force sensitive he had never met, but it did not move him.
More drops hit the surface. All Force sensitives. They effected the currents flowing above him but he was untouched.
A drop he knew startled him. His creche mate, a togruta named Navaan-Tai.
More drops fell.
Several Jedi he knew by sight but not by name—Masters, Knights, Padawans.
His lineage-brother Feemor surprised him. He didn’t think he was able to care about the poor farmer’s son Jinn raised before he came around and, yet he did.
He hardly noticed the dozens of drops that followed Feemor, distracted by his own confusion.
His master—his true father—Qui-Gon Jinn dying made him cry out in denial. No. No! Qui-Gon couldn’t die! Not alone! Not abandoned!
That was the moment he finally understood the saying that you could only hate something as much as you had loved it before. He loved his master more than he had known. More than he loved his own life.
He could see that now.
Now that it was too late for him to do anything about it.
The rain picked up. Then it picked up again.
A torrential downpour flooded the lake, taking the surface further from him but somehow the individual drops hit him harder.
Thousands of drops. Ten thousand drops.
The Jedi Order had fallen.
His family. Their collective legacy. Gone. Ruined.
Xanatos woke up with tears in his eyes. His body shook with his heartbreak. He shook the bed with his sobs.
Then Master Jinn was there.
His beloved teacher was a disaster, as always. His hair was a mess and he wore only the leggings he always slept in but he was there, scooping Xanatos into his arms as if he had never done anything wrong.
“It’s alright, Padawan. It’s alright.” Qui-Gon Jinn scrubbed at his back even as he held him close. “Get it out. It’s alright.”
But it wasn’t alright. It never would be again. Xanatos wanted to convince himself it was just a vision but he knew better. He had lived that life. He had done those things. He had abandoned the father of his heart. He had degraded his older brother. He had tortured and enslaved his younger brother.
All for a man that never loved him. And why? Because they shared blood.
Crion duZeltan did not know him. Crion did not love him. He had wanted to use him. Xanatos would even go so far as to say his biological father had given him to the Order specifically to make him a better weapon for his arsenal.
Xanatos could not allow himself to be ruined by his father’s foolishness again.
“What upset you so?” Master Jinn asked once he had quieted down and pulled back a little.
“I—” What could he say? His master openly despised visions while yearning for one specific prophecy. “I think I need a mind healer.”
Master Qui-Gon jerked like he’d been jabbed with an electroprod. “A mind healer? But our last mission—” Master Jinn shook his head. “What brought this on?”
“I’ve been terrible. Arrogant,” Xanatos admitted even though it burned his throat like acid to do so. “I have an attachment to my biological father and I need help to let it go. It will ruin me if I don’t.”
Qui-Gon hummed and pulled him back in. He even rubbed his back. He could feel his teacher gearing up to disagree.
“The Force called me on my bantha poodoo, Master. I need to fix this.”
“Perhaps we both need some time with a mind healer,” Qui-Gon offered instead, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “Can’t have my padawan work harder to improve himself than me.”
Xanatos gave a tired snicker. “Maybe we can convince Grand-master Dooku to go too.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“No,” Xanatos disagreed laughingly with his former teacher. “I think you should take Kenobi and I should take Chun.” Xanatos knew he probably shouldn’t take either of them as a student himself. He had wronged them both—ruined them, honestly—his last time around. They didn’t know it and hopefully never would but he owed them regardless.
Qui-Gon snorted. “Master Koon has his eyes on Kenobi—has for years. So does Master Nu. And Feemor.”
“Feemor was in the Padawan 101 classes with us.” Xanatos glared at his former master in playful judgement. “I still can’t believe you raised two Padawans before taking those classes. You’re lucky Feemor and I are exceptional.”
Qui-Gon laughed nervously. “I probably do owe you both some sort of apology.”
“Host the next lineage dinners rather than Yoda,” Xanatos decided. “Serve good food. Not swamp spawn.”
Qui-Gon laughed honestly this time.
“Help Feemor get Kenobi as his student, and you take Chun like you want. Master Yoda really wants Kenobi for our lineage.”
“If Master Yoda wants Kenobi for our lineage, then he should take Kenobi as his student,” Qui-Gon argued.
“Honestly, I think Master Yoda needs to visit a mind healer, not take a student. The Order is dying, we need to change to save ourselves, and he’s afraid of changing anything.” Xanatos shook his head.
“Can you prove it? That the Order is dying?” Qui-Gon asked.
“Look at our numbers! We used to be in the millions! Nine main temples—as large as this one or larger—and hundreds of outposts, thousands of Watchmen. Now we have three temples, barely. One is only open because of the culture of the species that runs it, not because we have appropriate numbers for it. Zero outposts and a few hundred Watchmen—all within Republic space.
“The Outer Rim doesn’t know us. Slavery—enemy number one of the Jedi—is booming out there. We’ve chained ourselves to the Republic and only the Hutts and Zygerrians have benefitted from it. The rest of the Outer Rim has suffered.”
“Sounds like you have some research to do and present to the High Council,” Qui-Gon offered.
“That kind of research would take a team to do in time for it to make any sort of difference.” Xanatos sighed.
He hadn’t forgotten the shady figure that had reached out to him with vague offers of power and less vague promises of revenge when his offer was rejected. Xanatos had already been burned by one master and hadn’t been interested in bowing to another so soon after what he had perceived as a betrayal.
He didn’t know who the figure was but he knew they were out there. Waiting.
Qui-Gon hummed. “Sounds like you need to have a conversation with Madame Nu.” His master brought them to a stop and settled a heavy, comforting hand on one of his shoulders. “Leave the initiates to Feemor and I. There will be other students. For now, save our family.”
Xanatos nodded. This. This was why he was sent back. He would save their family. It did not matter where his quest took him, he would go all the way.
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