The lightsaber did not escape notice. The sheen of the metal, the way that it almost hummed with energy. Qui-Gon missed his own all the more right then. It was a constant companion, and familiar. But if given the choice between his lightsaber or his padawan, well. That was an easy choice; no item could equal the compassion of Obi-Wan. And Qui-Gon rather hoped that no physical item ever did, not even a little droid or robot.
“And are we involved with them?” Qui-Gon asked. “Do we fight with them, or are we others?” If this whole experience of being thrown across existence was one that was spread to many different peoples, Qui-Gon could not fathom the idea that he and Obi-Wan might be the only ones interested in helping such an effort. Helping people and intelligent beings had always been what brought Qui-Gon the greatest joy in his work. It had driven Dooku insane to watch Qui-Gon try and save everything, and everyone.
Had he lost that, he wondered. He had limited his saving to the saving of actual lives, and the saving of future jedi. That was a rather narrow view, was it not? But it was not time to question that. It was the time to question Obi-Wan.
“Just what do you do here? If there is no council to follow.”