Qui-Gon had given up family and children for the life of a Jedi. He had chosen freely. No Jedi was bound to the life. He could choose to leave it at any time.

Yet he knew he would not.

Qui-Gon leaned down to pick up petals from the grass. He let them drift through his fingers, to be carried by the wind. This would be his life, he thought. He would wander the galaxy. He would risk his life on behalf of strangers. What would he leave behind?

Qui-Gon's wandering took him to the kitchen gardens. Signs of planting surrounded him — shovels and rakes, careful rows of tiny seedlings taking root in the dirt. He looked down at the ground, almost surprised to see his own foot prints there. Wind and rain would soon wash them away.

Elan had chosen to live apart from society. She followed a set of laws that belonged to no government, no world, only her fellow travelers. She was like him, he realized. He had never met her, but he knew her.

"Qui-Gon?"

He turned at the sound of Obi-Wan's voice. The boy looked hesitant, afraid to disturb him.

"You disappeared," Obi-Wan said. "I didn't know where to look."

Qui-Gon could not share his thoughts. Obi-Wan was young, just starting out on his journey as a Jedi. He would not understand thoughts of legacies, of what he would leave behind. Not yet.

"Why did you agree to our not leaving the palace without an escort?" The question seemed torn from Obi-Wan's lips. Obviously, the boy thought Qui-Gon should have resisted Giba's suggestion.

"It is better for now that they think they can control us," Qui-Gon answered.

"Do you think the Queen is telling the truth?" Obi-Wan asked. "Does she really not want her son to win the election? And what does she want with Elan?"