"Sure. People're getting settled, so I've got time now..."

"All right."  He sits down.

"Strictly speaking, I believe your end of the bet was merely that you'd try my plan first, and let me stop Gardulla and the others on my terms, as long as we freed enough slaves," he begins.

She hums. "I think there was also something about helping Naboo? But that might've been 'so Naboo will want to help Tatooine.'"

"We discussed that," Qui-Gon says.  "I'm not sure it was quite a condition, but I'm sure the Naboo would be honored if you would help them."

Shrug. "I like Kelié, she's nice. And it's sad her people are being invaded. My people might need me, but... I dunno. Demon powers don't really seem like they'd be needed if everyone's just moving to a normal place. And people might not stick together, anyways, lots of us are from all over - plenty of people have families they remember from before the Hutts. And I dunno I want to always be needed forever by the same people."

"That makes sense," Qui-Gon says.  "And I'm glad to hear it."

"I expect there is much you can do to help already," he goes on, "but there is an offer I wanted to make you, concerning further developing your powers."

"Really? What?"

"Traditionally, experienced Jedi like me take on Padawan learners, or apprentices," he says, "and teach them to make safe and effective use of their powers.  My current apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is about to graduate to the level of Jedi Knight.  I intend to teach you what I can regardless of our formal relationship, but if you're interested in joining the Jedi order, being officially my Padawan would make it easier for both of us, and grant you access to more resources during and after your apprenticeship."

"Huh."

"What'd happen if I joined the Jedi?"

"As my Padawan, you'd live and travel with me, accompanying me on missions when it's safe.  I'd teach you how to commune with the Force, and how to accomplish new things with your powers.  Right now my focus is on the situation with Naboo and Enarc, so we'd spend most of our time there, or in Corusant protecting Queen Amidala while she spoke to the Galactic Senate.  The Jedi also have our own culture and way of life, our own philosophies about how and why we use the Force, and a code of conduct, all of which I would teach you about.  You'd be able to learn, not just from me, but from other Jedi, and you'd have access to some of our Archives, which can also teach you about the Force."

"Some Jedi believe that independent study of the Force, or traditions other than our own, are too dangerous to be ethically permissible.  I am not one of them, and if it becomes necessary I will protect your right to leave.  If you do decide to leave, as I say, I am willing to teach you as much as you are interested in learning in my capacity as a friend and mentor."

She thinks, humming. "That sounds good, yeah," she says, after a couple moments. "You're neat, and I think I'd like learning from you."

"I'm glad you think so," Qui-Gon says.  "You're older than children usually are when the Jedi Council prefers to take them on, so they may take some convincing, but I believe they can be convinced."

"Huh. How young are kids normally?"

"Six to ten, traditionally.  Sometimes younger, if they're particularly precocious with the Force; rarely ever older."

"Huh."

"I'm probably somewhere between ten and fourteen? But mom hasn't really tracked that, especially before we ended up on Tatooine, so I don't think anyone can be super sure."

"That sounds right," Qui-Gon says.  "You may at some point be obliged to select an age to declare yourself as on paperwork, but the Council won't be that concerned with minutia, I don't think."

"Might say I'm thirteen. That's a cool number."

"Reasonable," Qui-Gon says.

Hee.

"So what next?"

"The formalities can wait until we reach Coruscant," Qui-Gon says.  "I'm happy to consider you my Padawan now.  I can even start your lessons, if you don't have anything else to attend to."

"I don't!"

He settles in, and they begin.

"When we first met I described the Force to you as a field of energy, thought, and intention," he says.  "It permeates the Galaxy and all living beings in it.  Anyone can hear it, or speak to it, and most people do, sometimes; but it takes training, usually within an existing tradition, to do much more than that.  Traditionally, the Jedi focus their efforts on cases of exceptional sensitivity, like yourself."

She hums. "Why not teach everyone? Or try to, eventually - even if teaching people's really hard, if every teacher teachers two future teachers, you could get really really big over time."

He smiles.  "In fact, the number of Jedi is growing, though not quite doubling with every generation.  But many Jedi feel it isn't wise to teach as many people as we possibly can."

"Why not?"