There was nothing Obi-Wan could do to help his Master now. Qui-Gon had not responded to his words or his presence. Obi-Wan desperately wished he were older than sixteen. Maybe with more maturity he would know how to comfort someone whose world had collapsed.

It hurt him to see Qui-Gon suffering. His Master had only left Tahl's room once, to rush out on a mysterious errand. He had tersely told Obi-Wan when he returned that he had managed to find two more probe droids. He had sent them to track down Balog. Now he would return to Tahl's side.

"Is there anything I can do, Master?" Obi-Wan had asked.

"Nothing," Qui-Gon had replied, and closed the door behind him.

Obi-Wan was used to silence between them. It was often a form of communication. He had come to understand that his Master was a man of few words. But this silence was different. He could not read it. Over and over the words Qui-Gon had spoken at Tahl's deathbed ran in his head: There is no help for me now. There is only revenge.

Revenge. Obi-Wan had never heard Qui-Gon use that word. It was not a concept the Jedi would ever endorse. No revenge, only justice. That creed was written on the heart of every Jedi. Revenge led to the dark side. It twisted the mind and crippled duty into something full of ego and darkness.

Was Qui-Gon battling the dark side inside himself? Balog had taken away what was most dear to him. He had done it in the most cruel way imaginable. He had drained Tahl minute by minute of her strength.

Had Qui-Gon sent out the probe droids in order to find Balog so that he could kill him?

Obi-Wan pushed the thought away. He had to trust his Master. Qui-Gon would find the calm center he needed to proceed. They must find Balog, but in the interest of justice, not revenge.