Death and the Force

by MrsHamill (thamill@mgfairfax.rr.com)

Archive: by Master and Apprentice and StarWarsChicks. All others please ask.

Rating: NC-17, I think.

Category: DRAMA, ANGST, Action-Adventure, Romance

Spoilers: Hmmm. No, I don't think so.

Warnings: Pay heed. This is DARK. It is VIOLENT and somewhat SQUICKY. I have been told that the violence level alone is enough to give it an R rating. This is NOT MY FAULT. What do you expect from a story called "Death and the Force"??

Summary: Fourth in Jedi Code Breakers series. Qui and Obi are sent to relieve a Jedi team on a planet intent on going straight to hell. There, they encounter all sorts of nastiness that tries their very humanity.

Disclaimers: We all know the drill, George is God. Also: The naming ceremony is lifted from the TV show 'Beauty and the Beast' which should have been good but unfortunately settled for mediocre too often.

Notes: This is the last of the four part, loosely tied together series I called Jedi Code-Breakers. I will not be writing more on this, but I MAY continue telling the story of the baby at some future date. The ever spectacular Fox was completely indispensable on this one, almost to the point of co-author. Not only did she come up with the name I finally went with for the baby (and thank you, all of you who gave me ideas from the M_A list, they really helped!), she beta'd, gave suggestions, prods, and used judicious and overt threats to get this sucker in the can. I simply cannot thank her enough. Emrin also provided her services herein, and Em, baby, we whupped it, dint we? Thanks, buds. I owe you several.

There is no emotion, there is peace
there is no ignorance, there is knowledge
there is no passion, there is serenity
there is no death, there is the Force

Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy.
Jedi use their powers to defend and protect, never to attack others.
Jedi respect all life in any form.
Jedi serve others rather than rule over them, for the good of the galaxy.
Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and training.

My life changed forever not quite three years ago. I took my Padawan - my beloved Obi-Wan, the bright, shining light of my life - as my lover. I have never regretted it.

I had my reservations of course. I had always been serenely certain that a Master/Padawan pair could never blend a romantic relationship with a training one. Oh, I knew it had happened, in fact it was hardly a rarity. But in my high-and-mighty, holier-than-thou world, I looked upon such pairings with disdain. Surely, a Padawan Learner could not continue to function properly under such circumstances.

My Obi-Wan has proven me wrong and oh, how wonderfully has he done so. It has simply never been a problem. Our nights may be filled with passion (what an insufficient word to denote such aching, panting, blissful lovemaking!), but our days are filled with the simple joys that come from teaching and learning. And he is so close now to fulfilling his wish to be a Jedi Knight. Someday, soon I think, I will ask him to stay with me forever, to become bonded to me. And I am prepared should he say no.

For such are my continued fears - irrational fears, he calls them, laughing at me. I am still more than twice his age. He tells me this doesn't matter to him, but it does to me. I don't wish to be a burden to anyone, much less the one being I love with my whole heart and soul. He reminds me that it is just as likely that he will be killed in the line of duty as I, and that our violent death is much more likely than us dying in retired old age.

Perhaps this is why I find myself unconsciously protecting him so often. I want him to fulfill his destiny as a great Jedi Knight, one of the greatest of our Order. I have foreseen this in him, in the way he moves and thinks. I would protect him in any way I can, always, had I chance to. Even though he finds such endeavors amusing. Even though he does the same, tries to protect and shelter me. What a peculiar thought... that a Padawan would want to protect his Master!

I tell him, there is no death, there is the Force. He smiles sadly at me and caresses my cheek and answers that the Force is cold comfort while alone in a big bed. And he is right. For I remember what it was like alone in bed before he came to me, and I would not willingly go back to that.

When Qui-Gon Jinn selected me as his Padawan Learner, I thought my life complete. I would finally accomplish the one thing I wanted more than anything... to be a Jedi Knight.

I was wrong. My life was not complete until that marvelous day he took me to his bed and made me his lover. Made me his. For I AM his, just as he is mine. I can no longer imagine my life without him.

Soon, soon, I'll take my trials, and once I am a Knight I intend to ask him to bond with me. I would ask him now, but I really have no right to; not until I can approach him as an equal. There are nights - especially those nights when he is gone, off to another meeting with the Senate, or the Trade Federation, and I must sleep alone - when I dream of asking him. Will he say yes? In my dreams, he does.

But if he doesn't, I will accept that. For I have these past few years to sustain me and I know, deep in my heart, that we will never really be parted. He tells me that old platitude about death and the Force, but the Force cannot hold you tightly while you sleep and the Force cannot kiss your lips or tickle you with a beard or drive you insane with desire and want.

And deep, deep inside me, I fear. Not that he would reject me, but that he would leave me. There have been occasional times when he has faltered on a mission, where he has put himself before me, a willing sacrifice in the name of peace. If something should happen to him, I-I don't know what I would do. I don't know that I could continue as an effective Knight.

But, of course, he wouldn't really be gone, would he. For there is no death... there is the Force.

The Supreme Chancellor's aircar hissed to a stop at the Jedi Temple pad and a tall, somewhat stooped figure disembarked. As the aircar swept away into the Coruscant night, the man wearily trudged into the Temple proper.

Just inside the main doors, he was met by a dark-skinned Jedi Master. "Qui-Gon. Valorum let you out early tonight?"

Smiling tiredly at his friend, Qui-Gon Jinn answered, "Hullo, Mace. Yes, he did, for a change. I do wish Val would realize I'm not the only one who can deal with the Trade Federation."

Shaking his head in sympathy, Councilor Windu walked with his friend deeper into the mostly quiet Temple. "I'm sorry, Qui, but he does keep asking for you. Did he remember to feed you this time, I hope?"

"Yes, if you count the Senatorial after-hours cafeteria food as 'food'," came the rueful chuckle. "I've had better, but at least I'm not hungry." They walked further. "Several thousand pages of procedure and rigmarole tonight, and I think he finally realizes that the Federation is not going to give in easily."

"I realize you're tired," Mace said diffidently as they approached his quarters, "but do you think I could steal an hour's worth of your time? I have those fruity pastries you're so fond of, and I could make you tea." With a sly smile, Mace continued, "Unless, of course, Obi-Wan is expecting you..."

"No, no," Qui-Gon replied grinning back. "He's on the 'pee patrol' in the crèche. I don't think he'll be back before midnight. I'd be glad to stop by for a few minutes."

"Thank you. I need your advice in a rather... delicate matter."

Once in his quarters, Mace made good his offer, brewing tea and warming several of the small pastries his friend loved. While waiting they talked quietly.

"How is Obi-Wan coming in his studies?" Mace asked, setting the timer on the warmer.

"Very, very well. I think he'll be ready for his trials within a year or so."

"Really? That's wonderful, Qui," Mace said, distractedly. "You two have never been happier since you finally figured out you were good for each other."

"Yes, you're right as usual," Qui-Gon grinned, managing to keep a flush at bay. "I know I've never been more content."

Once ensconced on Mace's small sofa with pastries and tea, Qui-Gon looked across the cocktail table at his old friend. He suddenly realized that the man looked dreadful, his eyes were sunken and his skin - while he couldn't be pale, because of his dark coloring - was actually ashen beneath the darkness. "Mace, you look terrible. What's wrong?"

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Mace sat back in his chair, sighing. "How much do you know of what is happening out at the Sobol Protectorates?"

Qui-Gon nibbled at his pastry and took a sip of tea while he watched his friend and thought. Finally, he said carefully, "I know that the nebula has been released from Protectorate status by the Republic, and the four planets are at the moment about to erupt. We've got several teams out there right now, don't we."

"Yes. We do. Including your old friend Dorim and his bondmate, M' Liskatha."

Frowning at his pastry, Qui-Gon finally just put it down. "I'm aware of that. But I thought they were to be recalled, since Liskat is pregnant?"

"Yes. They were supposed to be." Mace reached one hand to the opposite shoulder and pulled. Qui-Gon heard the pop of overworked, over-tense joints and winced in sympathy for his friend. "When they were assigned, she was not pregnant. They've been there over seven months now, she's due in another three, and Chenya - where they're assigned - is beginning to boil over. I need to recall them; I need to get them out of there. Fast."

A small, intense headache suddenly bloomed behind Qui-Gon's eyes. Struggling to keep his voice calm, he asked, "Has there been a foreseeing?"

"Nothing specific, no," Mace answered, frowning into his own teacup. "But it's dactares to diamonds that the whole situation is going to end badly. Problem is, I cannot just recall them, someone has to take their place, and we're spread thin as it is. And I dare not send anything other than a Knight pair. It's no place for a Padawan."

Seeing where this was leading, Qui-Gon smiled wryly. "A junior Padawan, no. But one who is ready to take his trials...?"

There was a pleading look on Mace's face as he agreed. "I will not assign this, Qui-Gon. Not to anyone. But I have to recall Dorim and Liskat. You are the best negotiator we've got on planet, and Obi-Wan is one of the best fighters. I need you two. Will you consider it?" He was quite genuinely unhappy at having to ask, a fact which only concerned Qui-Gon further. Mace Windu was not known for letting anything rattle him.

Qui-Gon finished his tea as he continued to think. The situation was grave indeed if the Council was asking for volunteers. "Will you download all the mission specs to my dataset?" he asked. "I can't promise - I need to talk to Obi-Wan about this first."

"I understand," Mace replied. "And the specs will be on your set in the morning. Please think it over carefully, Qui, very carefully. But don't take too long."

Nodding, Qui-Gon put his now empty cup on the cocktail table. "I will. Let me retire now, and I'll ring you sometime tomorrow."

Rising to see his friend out, Mace answered, "That's all I can ask. Thank you, Master Jinn. Give my regards to your Padawan."

"I will. Thank you for the tea, Mace," he responded, then left.

It was a subdued Qui-Gon who slowly made his way to his own quarters, his mind swirling with questions and foreboding. Obi-Wan was not back from 'pee patrol'... the rather fanciful name for the not-unpleasant job of helping to put the toddlers in the crèche down to bed. Obi-Wan was a popular Padawan for this: the children loved him and he was genuinely fond of them.

After taking care of his evening rituals, Qui-Gon crawled into the bed he shared with his Padawan. He didn't think he would be able to sleep, but to his surprise, the next thing he was aware of was Obi-Wan slipping into bed by his side. The chrono read well past midnight.

"You're late," he murmured, pulling the younger man to him in a sleepy embrace. "Were the children fractious tonight?"

"Not any more so than usual," was his soft reply, as Obi-Wan snuggled into his arms. "Sorry I woke you."

"S'alright," Qui-Gon said, gently caressing the warm silken skin under his hand, "I'm rather surprised I was asleep. We need to talk in the morning... do you have class?"

"No, I took my final exam today in biomechanics. Talk about what?" Obi-Wan asked, kissing and nuzzling the older man's chest gently.

"Mace stopped me on my way home tonight. There's a situation he'd like us to look into. The mission specs will be on our dataset in the morning."

"Ah." Kissing his way up Qui-Gon's chest to his neck, Obi-Wan suddenly stopped. "They're not ordering us out?"

"No. We're being asked to volunteer." Dipping his head, Qui-Gon tasted Obi-Wan's mouth gently, while his hands massaged the firm globes of his buttocks and pulled the younger man closer.

Obi-Wan kissed his Master back firmly, winding his hands through the other man's long luxurious hair and grinding their pelvises slowly together. "I don't like the sound of this, Qui," he said, somewhat breathlessly, his arousal starting to peak.

"It will keep 'til morning," Qui-Gon answered him roughly, rolling them over so that Obi-Wan was on top of him, then slid sleep pants down over narrow hips. "But I won't. I missed you today, love."

"I missed you too. Perhaps we should do something about that," Obi-Wan responded, then dove in for a passionate kiss.

Qui-Gon woke early the next day. Uncharacteristically, he left the warmth of his bed and his sleeping Padawan to check his messages, since the conversation of the night before was one of the reasons he found it difficult to stay asleep. As promised, the information on the mission was loaded to his dataset, and he began the download process to both their datapads, then went to heat water for tea. By the time tea was ready, he had muffins defrosted and the download was complete. Putting it all on a tray, he returned to the bedroom, where Obi-Wan was just beginning to stir.

Setting the tray on the bedside table, Qui-Gon climbed back into bed and cuddled up against Obi-Wan's back, kissing his earlobe.

"G'morning," the younger man smiled sleepily.

"Good morning to you too. Sleep well?"

"Ummmm..." was his sated, inarticulate reply. Obi-Wan pulled the older man's arms around him firmly, sinking back into and molding himself to the broad warm chest with a happy sigh. After a few minutes of bliss, he said, "Do I smell tea?"

"And muffins," Qui-Gon replied, not moving, allowing himself an interim of mindless, sleepy joy before the day officially started. "And I brought the download of that mission."

Obi-Wan shot his lover a pout over one shoulder. "And here I was perfectly content to lie abed all morning, you evil Master you."

Smiling, Qui-Gon kissed his neck. "Everything's on a tray. We don't have to leave the bed. And I find I don't want to."

"Hedonist," Obi-Wan chuckled, but didn't move, other than to tilt his head to give the other man better access to his neck.

"I think it might have something to do with the fact that a warm, cuddly body is here with me," Qui-Gon answered, nuzzling the hair above his Padawan's ear.

"Um-hmmm," Obi-Wan practically purred. "Ohh.. do that again."

"If I do, we're likely to get nothing done today," Qui-Gon answered, nonetheless continuing his caress.

"Suits me. But I would like a muffin."

"I thought I was your muffin," Qui-Gon said with a pout, then laughed along with Obi-Wan.

The two men stayed in bed while they ate muffins, drank tea and went over the mission specs. What they read made them depressed, angry and frightened. Obi-Wan found himself moving closer to his Master the more he read, until he was basically in the older man's lap. Qui-Gon made no move to disengage.

The Sobol nebula lay nearly mid-way between Coruscant and Kessel. A bright, hot trinary star system on one of the edges of the nebula shared dozens of planets, planetoids and asteroid belts. Scattered therein were four planets within the liquid water belt that could and did sustain humanoid life. The planets were close enough to one another to allow frequent and easy travel between them, and the other planets of the system were so rich in hydrogens, silicates and heavier elements that Sobol became known as an important refueling stop for freighters on the way to or returning from Kessel, or that portion of the outer rim and unexplored territories.

For many years, the Senate had maintained direct control over the four planets, Chenya, Suuva, Bos, and Nere, calling the whole system a protectorate and keeping a firm hold over the exports and the people. Although the denizens of Sobol shared common ancestors and were definitely human to the last decimal place, there were enough differences - cultural, linguistic, and cosmetic - to create unwanted friction. The Senate could not, at the time, afford any disturbance in the area.

Between advances in space travel, the lessening of trade along that route, and political exigencies, it had become more and more untenable for the Senate to continue to directly rule Sobol. With its normal, glacial efficiency, over the course of several years the Senate appointed commissions and committees, and finally announced they were withdrawing Protectorate status, allowing the system to develop home-rule.

Initially, this was cause for great joy in the system. Slowly, however, it became evident that there was no way the four planets could come to an agreement on how to rule their homes. Chenya, the most isolationist of the four, wanted home rule and claimed a large margin of space as a buffer against all comers. Nere was closest aligned to the Senate and wished for a democratic rule between all four planets. Suuva wanted whatever Chenya did not. And no one quite understood what Bos wanted, except they apparently wanted it all. And while the Senate wished to wash its collective hands of the whole affair, the nebula was still of too much strategic importance to do so effectively. The Pilots' Guild, the Shipping Union and others all put pressure on the Senate to keep the nebula from exploding into warfare.

Several teams of Jedi had been sent to the system over six months before. As was noted on all the reports, bloodshed was not uncommon as 'ethnic purges' took place on Chenya and Suuva. Both planets seemed hell-bent on killing anyone not of their particular descent, even when those people had been born and raised there. Laws were passed forbidding miscegenation and strict immigration policies were enacted. Off-worlders of any kind were looked upon with suspicion, but an off-worlder who might have ties with any of the other planets was likely to be arrested, if not beaten or killed.

Jedi Knight apNorill and his bondmate, Knight Vess, had been working frantically with the Chenyar interim governments on proposals to reduce the amount of distrust and animosity towards the other planets as well as the other political factions on the hatred-torn world. After Qui-Gon read their reports, mindful of what they did NOT say as much as was they did say, he tried to place a call to the two Knights. Their communications were off-line. He set the call to repeat, returned to bed and was immediately wrapped into a tight embrace by his Padawan.

"I have a very bad feeling about this situation, Master," Obi-Wan said, with uncustomary seriousness. "Dorim is nearly as good as you when it comes to forcing a settlement. The fact that he has been unable to do so worries me."

"I as well, Padawan," he said, kissing the top of the younger man's head. "But what worries me more is M'Liskatha's condition. You remember I'm sworn to protect them, from when I stood for them at their bonding."

Obi-Wan smiled in remembrance of the day not quite two years before when Dorim and Liskat took their vows, after only a three week courtship. It was a very intense bonding ceremony; the pair were both quite Force sensitive, and their coming together had been explosive. Qui-Gon had stood for them at their bonding, a ceremonial position that held him to the role of protector of either of them and any children they might have. Qui-Gon had been honored and touched, and had thoroughly approved of M'Liskatha Vess.

"I take it," Obi-Wan said slowly, breaking his reverie, "that you're going to accept this mission." He looked up at his Master, noting the concern and preoccupation in those deep blue eyes.

Qui-Gon sighed. "I don't know, Padawan," he answered. "This will be an exceedingly dangerous posting. There is no guarantee we'll be able to do anything. It would help if I could get through to Dor or Liskat."

"We will. Eventually, I'm sure. And whatever you decide, I'll abide by, Master. But if you want my opinion, I think we should go."

Bemused, the older Jedi looked down at his apprentice, who, having finally released his Master from his embrace, was sprawled in naked abandon over their bed. There were muffin crumbs on his chest and Qui-Gon fought the urge to lick them off. "You do? You realize how dangerous this mission would be?"

"Oh, yes, I do," Obi-Wan said, tucking his hands behind his head and lowering his eyelids to half-mast. "And you're right, it will be terribly difficult and dangerous. Normally I'd be running in the other direction with Force enhanced speed. But there's... something... maybe it's just worry. I love them too, you know."

"Your heart is as generous as your courage, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice suddenly thick. "I'd like to wait until we get through to them, but I 'll tell Mace we're willing to go."

A brilliant smile bloomed over the younger man's face. "Good. But not right now."

"No?" Qui-Gon asked. "Why not now?" He was also smiling, divining his Padawan's intent from the suddenly dilated changeable eyes and the sultry expression. Not to mention the erection.

"Not now because I have my incredibly sexy Master lying naked in bed next to me and I want to do something about it."

"I believe you did something about it last night," the older man said, sliding down in bed and giving into temptation by nibbling at Obi-Wan's chest and cleaning off the crumbs there.

"Ah, but that was last night. This is this morning. And you can keep doing that all day if you'd..." he gasped as Qui-Gon tongued a nipple, "...if you'd like to. I wouldn't stop you."

"Hold still, Padawan, you have crumbs here," Qui-Gon murmured, his tongue sweeping much lower looking for microscopic food particles.

"Yes," gasped Obi-Wan. "Holding still. That's... that's good..."

"There seems to be a large one right here. This might take me a while..."

"Oh...yes... as long...as...ohhhh..." The conversation degenerated at that point into moans and gasps, which continued for quite some time.

The lovers managed to drag themselves out of bed, shower and dress before lunch, but there was still no word from Dorim and his bondmate. Qui-Gon rang Mace Windu and informally accepted the mission, contingent upon their getting through to the two Knights. Rather than risk missing the call when it was completed, both of them opted for a quiet day in their quarters, reading, catching up on correspondence, and cuddling. Obi-Wan went out late that afternoon and purchased some fresh vegetables, bread and pasta, then repaired to the kitchenette to create a simple meal for their dinner.

By the time dishes were cleared away, night had fallen over Coruscant. They had just settled in with a glass of wine each when the dataset chimed with an incoming call. It was M'Liskatha.

The transmission was grainy, weak and only two-dimensional, but both men could clearly see the fatigue on the young woman's face. Her normally dark, lustrous hair was oily and pulled back severely, emphasizing the dark circles that ringed her warm brown eyes. She smiled when she saw the two Jedi, but the smile did not leave her lips.

"Qui-Gon... Obi-Wan. How good it is to see you," her voice was hoarse but her feeling was evident. "I'm sorry we didn't reply sooner. We're in orbit now... the Chenyar have seen fit to create a planet-wide communications blackout. Even for us."

"Liskat, my dear. You look tired. Where's Dor?" Qui-Gon asked.

"He's asleep." She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles, an endearingly young gesture. "And I am. Tired, I mean. I assure you, I'm heading in to join him shortly. But he was dead on his feet, and someone needed to see to the shuttle's auto defense."

"Is it as bad as all that then?" Qui-Gon asked, growing more concerned by the second.

She looked quite near tears, which startled them. M'Liskatha was known around the Temple for her serenity... nothing rattled her composure, except perhaps her bondmate. "It's worse, Qui dear, far worse than you can imagine. Has the Council assigned us a replacement?"

The Master glanced at his Padawan, then turned back to the screen. "Yes, dear one. Us."

She seemed incapable of digesting that information briefly, then her face melted into despair. "Oh, no, no no Qui you can't. Please..."

"Enough of that, Liskat," Qui-Gon interrupted her gently. "I understand the situation somewhat, we've been over the data..."

"But the data do not tell the whole story, Qui-Gon Jinn," she argued tiredly. "This planet is chaos, pure Sithly chaos. The things we've seen in the last few days..."

She trailed off, then abruptly looked to her left, smiling ruefully. "I knew I should have put you under with a Suggestion."

Her bondmate suddenly appeared on the screen, and it was all Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan could do to avoid gasping. The tall blond man was haggard, his face thin and lined, his eyes haunted. "Sith, Qui," he rasped. "You wasting bandwidth just to get a jump on the baby pool?"

Forcing himself to smile in reply, Qui-Gon said, "Oh, I happen to have an in with the mother, I expect I'll take the pot. But I'm not calling about that, my friend."

Her eyes never leaving her bondmate, Liskat said softly, "The Council has ordered them to replace us."

Dorim's shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked as old as Yoda. "And I don't suppose there's anything I could do to talk you two over-confident twits out of it, either."

"No, I don't expect there is," Qui-Gon answered him seriously. "You need out of there. May I remind you, you are expecting a child. I would like to see my godbaby born somewhere safe, thank you."

Liskat smiled wistfully and put a hand on the bulge in her belly. "You don' t want us out of here any more than we want us out of here," she said quietly. "I just wish it were someone else..."

For the first time, Obi-Wan spoke. "There is no one else. And Master is right, you need to get out of there as soon as you can. Can you leave now?"

Qui-Gon looked up at his Padawan, concern shining in his eyes. Obviously, Obi-Wan was speaking from the same odd feeling he had had earlier that evening. Opening himself to the Force, he tasted the currents and eddies and felt the same sense of... wrongness...his Padawan felt. He opened his eyes to see Dorim and Liskat looking at each other.

"I wish we could, Obi, but we can't," Dorim was saying. "We've promised to put in an appearance the day after tomorrow on the southern continent. There's a good chance that we'll be able to knock some sense into the Chenya Indie faction, maybe get them to come around to seeing that the conservatives are not their enemies. But we're going to stay in orbit until we have to land."

"Good," Qui-Gon said, still unhappy with the disturbance he was picking up. "Please, be careful. We'll see about leaving tomorrow, that should put us there by the end of the week, I think, depending on what kind of transport we can find."

Dorim ran a hand through his over-long curls and nodded, clearly unhappy. "Leave the channel open and I'll upload the latest information to your set. I can't wait to see you. I just wish..."

Nodding, Qui-Gon interrupted, "I understand, love. Go back to sleep. And you too, Liskat. You both look like you've been dragged through Sith-hells. We'll see you by the end of the week."

The video went dark at that point, and the dataset indicated it was in the process of uploading. Qui-Gon sat back with a sigh, frowning. Obi-Wan knelt at his side, and put his head on the older man's lap. Looking down with some surprise, Qui-Gon stroked the spiky hair back. "This has upset you."

"As much as you," the younger man acknowledged softly. "Something terrible is going to happen, Master."

"I feel it also, Obi-Wan." They sat there like that for a few minutes, until the dataset indicated the upload was complete. "Let's go to bed. I feel the need to be with someone I love dearly."

A ghost of his old twinkle was back as his apprentice looked up into his eyes. "And who would that be, Master? Shall I place a call to Master Yoda?"

"Impudent," Qui-Gon said fondly. "Get naked and meet me in the bedroom. I' ll show you Master Yoda..."

Soft, delighted laughter met this pronouncement, and the two retired to their bed, trying to forget the shadow of what lay upon them.

Mace pulled strings. By the time Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon met with the full Council early the next morning, a diplomatic corvette belonging to the Senate had been commandeered to drop them off at Chenya. "Knights apNorill and Vess will be able to return via the shuttle," Councilor Windu said, "which will help get them back here as soon as possible."

"The Council appreciates your willingness to go into this situation," Councilor Mundi said quietly. "It is our sincere hope that the Force will be with you at all times during this mission."

Uncharacteristically, Master Yoda was silent. He sat in his chair, his chin leaning on the hands which grasped his gimer stick, his ears drooping. Qui-Gon was easily able to pick up the unhappiness radiating off his former Master, and bowed deeply towards him as he responded to the Council as a whole.

"I hope to return Knights Vess and apNorill to the Temple in one piece and soon, Masters. My Padawan and I take your good will with us on this most dangerous of missions. My Master?" This last was directed quietly towards Yoda, who slowly looked up at his former Padawan and sighed.

"Careful you will be," Yoda said softly. "Foreseeings of danger there have been. Grave circumstances you will be faced with. Come back to us you will, Padawan. May the Force be with you."

The chamber was echoingly silent after these gentle pronouncements. Bowing deeply to the aged Jedi Master, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turned and left.

"The three major political factions currently on Chenya are the Conservatives, the Independents and the Separatists. Of these three, the Separatists are the most dangerous and unpredictable."

Obi-Wan sprawled on the floor of their quarters aboard the small shuttle, his legs propped up on the double bunk. He held his datapad in one hand while he scanned mission files; half his brain was also listening to Dorim's quiet voice coming from his Master's datapad. The most recent files were mostly done by Dorim, although Liskat also contributed frequently.

"It is our opinion that, in time, the Conservative faction could come to understand that it is in their planet's best interests to maintain contact with the other worlds in the nebula. The Conservatives also appear to have the greatest popular support, but this support is very quiet. For the most part, Chenyars appear to be too frightened to publicly support anything, lest another faction mark them for execution."

Knight Vess had made extensive notes on the personalities leading all three political factions. A major player among the Conservatives, one Longus Decarr, appeared to be the principal contender for leadership of the party. The problem with this, according to Liskat, was that Decarr was a coward, a liar and a self-serving, addle-brained bureaucrat, not necessarily in that order. Grinning to himself, Obi-Wan silently saluted his friend for her candor.

"The Independents allegedly want what's best for Chenya, which they feel is autonomous control of the planet and a large sphere of influence, including some of the richest planetoids in the cluster. The Independents are comprised of a great many military types and have the grudging support of those who feel they owe the military for whatever reason and those who had been in or who have family in the military complex."

According to Liskat's notes, the leader of the Independent faction was one Kier Samnud, rank equivalent to General in the Republic, intelligence roughly equivalent to that of a retarded womp rat on spice. Samnud was a brutal, stubborn, misogynistic, thoroughly evil man that Liskat hated to be around. His sole redeeming quality (according to her) was that he had no children to further the gene pool. Obi-Wan was not eager to meet him.

"The most difficult faction to get a handle on is the Separatists. They are paranoid in the extreme, refuse to meet with anyone not of "pure Chenyar blood" and promote complete isolationism, violently if necessary. They are a loosely formed party consisting mostly of terrorists and other extremists with no set agenda except to purge the planet of those that oppose them. Part of the problem in dealing with them is that they are also extremely 'religious' and their leader is a charismatic ex-priest of the Mountain God Klimm. This sect should be treated with the utmost care, if dealt with at all."

Klimman Horth was less extensively detailed in Liskat's notes, but only because of his extreme xenophobia and paranoia. There were strongholds of Separatists on both continents, but their presence was stronger on the southern, where Horth's home appeared to be. The Separatists were not popular among the Chenyar, but it was not expedient to admit to that.

With a sigh, Qui-Gon turned off Dorim's soft voice and sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples. From his position on the floor, Obi-Wan looked over at his Master, concern shadowing his eyes. Although the pair had been on dangerous missions before, indeed, had gotten attacked, shot at, blown up, hunted, cursed and ignored, this mission was more. Along their training bond Obi-Wan could feel the tiny knot of anxiety pulsing in Qui-Gon's stomach, despite the fact that he attempted to release it to the Force.

Knowing what he now knew about this trip, Obi-Wan could foresee that his Master would not be getting much sleep for a while. Actually, it was likely neither of them would, but being younger, Obi-Wan would probably be able to function better. And there was one sure way of getting his Master asleep, aside from a Force suggestion.

Thumbing off his own datapad, the Padawan twisted his legs off the bed and crawled the few feet to where his Master sat. It was late and they wore only sleep pants preparatory to retiring; Obi-Wan spread his Master's legs and sat back on his heels between them, looking up at the big man. Qui-Gon looked down at him fondly, weariness already evident in his eyes.

"Something you wanted, Padawan?" he asked lightly, running the thumb and forefinger of one hand down the long braid.

"Just you, Master, just you," was the husky reply, and Obi-Wan leaned forward to nuzzle against the heavy genitals encased in thin fabric. Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the feeling of his lover's caresses, then he reached down to tilt Obi-Wan's head up.

"I think it's a little late for this, and we still have work to do, Padawan." The voice was firm though soft, but his fingers trembled ever so slightly.

With a raised eyebrow, Obi-Wan answered, "And who was it that taught me that the moment should be seized? At this point, we're too tired to effectively retain more information, as well as too tired to sleep properly. Let me help you sleep, Master."

Once again the younger man leaned forward, rubbing his whole face against the firming penis, placing his hands on the thighs to either side. Moaning slightly, Qui-Gon tried one more time. "But what about you, Obi-Wan?"

"This is for you," was his whispered reply. "Let me do this for you, my beloved Master." Deft fingers pulled laces out, a gentle movement slid the pants down, and suddenly Qui-Gon was free to the cool dry air of their cabin. Relaxing his head back, he finally gave in and allowed his Obi-Wan to do this lovely thing to him.

There was no finesse, no tricks. Obi-Wan simply and gently swallowed Qui-Gon whole, massaging the firming shaft with his tongue and playing with the heavy sac below. One finger reached around to tease at the puckered opening while his tongue flicked over the slit and played with the tiny area just behind the head that was so sensitive. Setting up a slow rhythm, Obi-Wan gave himself over to pleasuring the one person who meant more to him than anyone else in the galaxy, reveling in the gasps and moans he was able to elicit. Qui-Gon's hand came around and took hold of his braid, unconsciously fingering it as his hips automatically began to pump slightly into that wet heat.

When finally Obi-Wan gently inserted the tip of one of his fingers into Qui-Gon's anus, the older man groaned deep in his chest and came, lightning sparking behind his closed eyes, his hands convulsing on his Padawan's head. Swallowing and gently sucking, Obi-Wan caught it all, lovingly bathing the softening shaft until it was completely flaccid, along with Qui-Gon. Then he gently re-fastened the sleep pants and with a touch of Force helped the older man to the bed, where he collapsed, boneless and nearly asleep. Obi-Wan lay down next to him, waving off the lights as he did so, and pulled the blanket up over them as he cuddled down.

// Sleep, my Master, // he murmured in their minds. And they did.

A high-pitched scream, of anguish and pain, brought Qui-Gon bolt upright in bed, automatically calling his lightsaber to his hand. It was nearly pitch dark, only small orange safety lights showing where doors were. Obi-Wan stiffened by his side in the bed. "Master? What is it?"

"A-a scream... I heard a scream..." Qui-Gon muttered, the adrenaline in his system not allowing him to relax. A touch of the Force brought the lights up in the cabin, and the two men squinted and blinked in the sudden glare. The gentle background hum of the shuttle was all they heard; their expanded senses detected nothing wrong in the ship or its crew.

"A dream?" Obi-Wan asked hesitantly, astonished at the tumultuous emotions he felt in his Master's mind through their bond.

"No, no, I don't think so..." Qui-Gon said, returning his 'saber to its shelf and lying back down. "But I don't know what it was..."

A glance at the chrono showed it to be near ship's 'dawn.' They would arrive on planet that day, in the late afternoon, ship's time. Neither man wanted to discuss what had woken up the Master... if it wasn't a dream, it was some sort of prescience.

Unable to sleep more, too wound up to make love, the Jedi rose and dressed then sought some breakfast. The rest of the trip they completed the mission specs, packed and made ready for planetfall.

They had hoped to catch the two Knights in orbit. Qui-Gon was aware of their meeting with the Independent faction on the southern continent but had hoped they would be safely back in orbit by the time the diplomatic corvette arrived. The small ship was heavily shielded but not heavily armed; the pilots were not willing to stay any longer than necessary, understandably. When neither Knight responded to their hail, Qui-Gon put in a call to Samnud 's office, seeking to know if they were still there.

An aide received their transmission, finally, after they were shuffled through several layers, checked and re-checked. The man was extremely suspicious and reluctant to speak to them at all. "We HAVE Jedi here, for all the good it does," the aide said for the fourth time.

Showing the endless patience that made him one of the premier diplomats of the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon again stated the obvious. "Yes, I am aware of that. They are Knights apNorill and Vess. Both of whom were to have met with your commander yesterday. We're here to relieve them, but we can't raise them. The communications blackout should not extend to planet-to-ground transmissions, as we would not be speaking otherwise."

If Obi-Wan didn't know better, he would have said that last was a not-so-subtle dig at the lack of intelligence being displayed in this aide. Of course, it went completely beyond the pompous man. "No, that's correct. If you can't reach them then perhaps they're not here."

Speaking slowly and clearly, Qui-Gon said, "They are not in orbit. They have not returned to Coruscant. Therefore, they are on the planet somewhere. Did they take their ship directly to your headquarters?" Qui-Gon's voice was still pleasant, still even, but inwardly he released frustration and anger to the Force.

The aide reared back in horror. "Oh, no, no, no! There is a no fly zone for 100 mims around our base! I believe they came in some sort of ground transport."

// Finally, we're getting somewhere, // Qui-Gon thought to himself. "Ah. Then they would have landed 100 mims from your base. Do you know where?"

The aide sniffed in disdain. "Even if I did, that information would be classified. And you say you are Jedi? We already HAVE Jedi here on Chenya. Why would we want more? Fat lot of good you are doing already."

Controlling the urge to use a Force pinch on the man's windpipe, with a tight little smile Qui-Gon cut the transmission. "Padawan. Translate 100 mims into Republic miles and sensor sweep around their base for Dorim and Liskat's shuttle. They have to be down there somewhere."

It didn't take long to find the shuttle. It was locked up tight, neatly stowed away in an abandoned gravel pit, only partially concealed. There was no sign of either Knight. Their pilots put the corvette down near the shuttle, offloaded their passengers and gear, and waited just long enough to confirm that the other shuttle wasn't damaged and that the Jedi could get into it before lifting off again. They would not remain in orbit for one standard minute before returning to Coruscant; the passengers they were to have picked up were not there and they were not receiving combat pay. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan meanwhile set up a search pattern to locate their colleagues.

There was only one road, badly maintained, leading in the proper direction, so finding out what had happened was fairly simple. The wreckage was found about a quarter of the way to the Independent base. The skimmer had been shot at and the motor destroyed; it apparently had veered off the road and crashed into some trees as a result of the attack. From the angle of the attack as well as the direction the skimmer pointed, it seemed the bondmates had been heading back to their shuttle.

A bright, shining presence in the Force led them directly to Liskat. She had been thrown clear and was lying in some bushes a few yards from the scene, unconscious due to a nasty head wound that had bled profusely. Performing a quick Force scan, Qui-Gon determined she had no severe back or neck injuries, then gently lifted her into his arms. "We need to get her back to the shuttle, Padawan," he said breathlessly, tenderly carrying her to the speeder bike that was their only other ground transportation, with the skimmer out of commission. "She's been out here at least all night and she's hurt badly." Obi-Wan, his lightsaber drawn, agreed with his Master as he scanned his surroundings for dangers.

"Yes, Master. I'll stay here and look for Dorim."

"No, Padawan," Qui-Gon said firmly, settling the unconscious woman across his lap as he took his seat on the bike. "We go back together. Under no circumstances should we split up on this mission. Can you jog next to the bike?"

Swallowing a protest, Obi-Wan nodded. "Even better, I'll jog backwards and guard our rear. This area is too open." Agreeing with a short nod, Qui-Gon headed back to the shuttle at a slow speed.

The trip back was blessedly uneventful. Once secured on the shuttle, Obi-Wan launched it into orbit while Qui-Gon hooked Liskat into the limited medical unit and more completely assessed her injuries. After achieving a stable orbit and setting the automatic defense grid, Obi-Wan joined him.

"The baby?" he asked softly, as he came into the room. Liskat was stretched out on the medical bed, cleaned somewhat and bandaged, but still unconscious. A large dressing was wound around her head, and there were tubes protruding from behind it as well as attached to her left arm. Her face was drawn and pale, her breathing very shallow. She looked too thin, as if she had lost weight suddenly, and this made her pregnancy even more evident. Qui-Gon sat at her side, holding her right hand and smoothing the hair feathering out over the pillow behind the bandage. A waste bin near the bed contained quite a lot of that dark hair, as well as many bloody cloths.

Without taking his eyes from his patient, Qui-Gon said, "The baby's fine. So far. But Liskat is badly hurt... the med unit reports severe skull fractures and intracranial swelling. It's inserted a rudimentary shunt but I don't think it's going to work; there's too much damage."

A Force surge surprised both of them; Liskat's eyelids were fluttering. "Dor?" she whispered painfully.

"Get her some water, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon murmured, then leaned in towards his friend. "No, dear one, it's Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. You're safe. Don't try to talk; you've been badly injured."

"Head... hurts..." she managed to force out, then sighed gratefully as Obi-Wan put a straw to her lips.

"You've got a severe concussion and some skull fractures. But you're safe now; we're in orbit." When she didn't move or speak for a moment, the two men thought she had lapsed into unconsciousness again.

"...baby?" she murmured.

"The baby's fine. You need to rest. Just relax."

Tears spilled out from under her lashes as she spoke again. "Dor's dead. ...killed him this morning ...felt it..."

Fighting back tears of his own at this news, Qui-Gon leaned closer, still tenderly stroking her head. "Who, love? Who did this? The Separatists?"

"Don't... know... only wanted him... left me..." She licked her lips and Obi-Wan put the straw back to her mouth, ignoring the tears that fell down his own face. When she was done, he moistened a cloth with cool water and bathed her face tenderly, wiping away the moisture that still spilled out from under her long, dark lashes.

Another sudden Force surge and with a gasp, her eyes flew open. "Yes, Dor... Qui... must go to Dessant. Emya Decarr. She'll help. Dor says..." Her eyelids fluttered closed again, and she subsided back into unconsciousness. Quickly, Qui-Gon checked her vitals with the med unit, but she was still stable.

"Master, Dessant is the capitol city on the northern continent. Is that where she meant?" Obi-Wan was clearly rattled at her last words, but did his best to conceal that from his Master.

"I don't know, Obi-Wan. Let me try to reach this Emya Decarr. Perhaps she'll..."

Qui-Gon turned as he said this, meaning to go forward to the small bridge and use the communications array. But instead he froze, his eyes going wide. Obi-Wan also turned, and gasped.

Dorim stood there. Faintly transparent, tinged with blue, his eyes infinitely sad, he looked down at his bondmate laying on the med table. "Dor?" Qui-Gon whispered.

The apparition turned at his words and gave him a wistful smile, then faded. Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon and gulped. "Was that..."

"A Force ghost," Qui-Gon whispered, his face as white as his Padawan's. "I've never seen one...Only someone who has unfinished business..."

With Dorim's disappearance, the Force surge dissipated and Obi-Wan remembered to breathe. He closed his eyes and struggled to find his center and calm. Eventually attaining it, he turned to his Master, who was doing the same. "Let's try to reach this Emya Decarr, Padawan," Qui-Gon said softly, patting Liskat's hand once again as he went forward.

Emya Decarr turned out to be the sister of Conservative leader Longus Decarr, and according to Liskat's notes, was more inclined to help the Jedi in their mission than some. She was difficult to reach as well, but finally after a couple of agonizing hours, they managed to get in touch with her. The transmission was two dimensional and grainy.

Bowing, Qui-Gon introduced himself. "We're here to relieve Knights apNorill and Vess, Lady Decarr. I've been led to understand that you are fairly close to Knight Vess?"

The woman on the other end of the transmission frowned at them suspiciously. She was a moderately corpulent woman, with a pinched face and small eyes. Her hair was pulled severely back from her face in an unflattering style. "I'm not sure what you mean, Master Jinn," she said warily. "Perhaps if you were to put Knight Vess on..."

"I wish that I could," Qui-Gon said tightly. "She's been severely injured, and is presently unconscious in our somewhat limited med unit."

Reeling back in shock, Decarr blinked several times. "The baby?" she gasped, softly, checking furtively over her shoulder.

Frowning, Qui-Gon said, "The baby is fine, but I can't say the same about the mother. She's severely injured, and we don't have the medical technology on this shuttle to help her further, and it's too far to Coruscant. Is there any way..."

"You must bring her here," the woman whispered. "I'll meet you at the port. Can you be here within the hour?"

Before Qui-Gon could assent, the transmission ended. He turned to Obi-Wan, who was also staring puzzled at the holodisplay. "Master, it is quite late now in Dessant, it will be the dead of night in an hour. Are you sure..."

"Padawan, I'm not sure of anything any more," Qui-Gon said softly, putting one gentle hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder and squeezing. "It's obvious that Lady Decarr is frightened, but I sense she's willing to help. And Liskat will not make it much further without more sophisticated medical care than we can provide right now."

"Understood, Master," Obi-Wan said heavily. "Dessant it is."

It was indeed late when they landed. The port was deserted. No one even answered their request for permission to land - a fact which actually pleased them, given the circumstances. A dark groundcar, its lights off, drove up to the side of the shuttle as they locked it down. Exchanging glances, Master and Padawan warily descended the ramp to be met by a heavily cloaked, fidgety figure.

"Sir Jedi?" a voice whispered, then the hood of the cloak was pushed back to reveal the face they had seen on the holoprojector.

In person, Emya Decarr was a more friendly presence, but her constant surreptitious glances and sudden starts at any sound were both annoying and conducive to paranoia. Both men found themselves unconsciously lowering their voices as they talked to her.

"Where is Liskat? What happened?" she asked frantically.

"Knight Vess is aboard," Qui-Gon said softly. "We'll take you to her. She was attacked on her way back from a meeting with the Independents."

"Wait..." Lady Decarr said as they began to turn back to the shuttle. "I've brought someone who could help." Turning, she bent to the car and softly called out, "It's all right. These are the Jedi I told you I talked to."

Out of the car slid another heavily cloaked woman, less furtive than Lady Decarr but no less tense. "This is Saaben Toth. She's a nurse-midwife. She can help Liskat, I think."

Qui-Gon bowed briefly. "I am Qui-Gon Jinn, this is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Please come with us."

The four of them quickly climbed the ramp up into the shuttle, and the two Jedi led the two women aft to the medical bay. There was no change in Liskat's condition, according to the monitor's read-out. Lady Decarr gasped as she saw her friend and quickly moved to her side, taking her hand and calling her name softly. The other woman gently moved her aside.

"Don't, Emya," she said, her voice harsh. "It's obvious she's in no condition to hear you. What happened to her?"

"Her skimmer was attacked and crashed into some trees," Qui-Gon explained. "I believe she was thrown clear. She may have landed on her head, she has skull fractures, a concussion, and internal bruising. The med unit confirms no other significant internal injuries aside from her head."

"Which is enough," she muttered. The efficient woman quickly and cursorily examined Liskat, then glanced over the medical read-outs. "The baby appears to be fine," she murmured with her curiously harsh voice. "But it doesn't look good for her. Would that I could get her to a neuro..."

"Have you a bacta tank for her, Dr. Toth?" Obi-Wan asked.

"It's not 'doctor', Jedi," she grimaced sourly. "I'm not a man, you see. I'm only a nurse-midwife. And no, there's no bacta available... especially not for a scummy low-life off-worlder." Her tone was exceedingly bitter as she apparently parroted party line, and both Jedi realized her voice was always that rough. However, her harsh words were belied by the tenderness with which she examined her patient and the anguish in her eyes. "I'm going to put myself on the line for you Jedi," she finally said. "We need to get her in the car and to my hospice. My med unit is not much more sophisticated than yours, but I think it might be able to keep her alive until the baby is better able to survive outside the womb."

Lady Decarr gasped. "Bennie, no. Is there no hope for her?"

Her shoulders slumping, the nurse turned towards the other woman. "I'm sorry, Em. If I had a team of surgeons... access to bacta...then maybe, maybe she would live. But even then, her chances wouldn't be good." Glancing up sharply, she asked, "She's married, isn't she? Where's her husband?"

Qui-Gon swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Knight apNorill is dead," he said simply. He felt Obi-Wan shift next to him, reaching for his hand in sympathy.

Sighing, the women exchanged glances, then the nurse-midwife began carefully disconnecting her patient. "Let's get her to my place. The sooner the better."

Putting a hand on the woman's arm, Qui-Gon said, "Thank you, Lady Toth. Liskat is my friend, and I appreciate your care of her and will find a way to repay your kindness."

She ducked her head. "No need, no need," she muttered. "And just call me Bennie. Everyone else does."

Between them, they managed to get Liskat disconnected safely. Knowing she would need to be reconnected to life support soon, Qui-Gon gently picked her up and they hurried to the car waiting for them. "How long of a trip is it?" he asked, as Obi-Wan helped him get settled with Liskat on his lap.

"Not far, but we'll have to drive slowly. If anyone sees us leaving the port, we could get stopped," Bennie replied, sitting next to her patient. Lady Decarr took the driver's seat, and after a last quick look around, Obi-Wan climbed in beside her. Carefully, they pulled out onto deserted streets, gliding along without lights to avoid detection, praying no one would see.

Bennie's hospice turned out to be an old, dilapidated nursing home she had co-opted. As they were later to discover, the nurse-midwife was unable to turn aside anyone in need of help, and the place was quite full, with women expecting babies, parent-less children, injured and persecuted aliens, and others. She brought the Jedi to the basement, where a clean and well-lit but run-down room awaited them. In passing, she activated an ancient med droid that efficiently helped them reconnect Liskat to life support.

"This is JM30," Bennie said, waving at the droid. "It's old, it can't vocode any more, but it's all I've got. I use this room for the most seriously injured, or those who have a need to hide. I've been noticing lately those two things have been coinciding."

She removed her cloak and hung it on a hook by the door, then moved to wash her hands. Obi-Wan's eyes momentarily widened as he noticed a vivid red scar slashed across the woman's throat. // Master, I think that indicates what happened to her voice, // he sent, calling Qui-Gon's attention to it. His Master nodded thoughtfully and sadly.

// Women are apparently considered second class citizens here, Padawan, // he sent, his mental voice tinged with sorrow. // Dorim mentioned as much in his reports. We must be careful. // Later they learned that Bennie's injury was the result of a failed murder attempt - by her former husband.

It wasn't long before Liskat was reattached to the slightly more sophisticated med unit. Bennie assessed her vitals and deemed her stable. "The cranial pressure hasn't increased so the shunt is working; but it hasn' t significantly decreased either, which is not good. Her hypothalamus and brain stem are still showing quickening, so there is cognitive functionality, but don't ask me if she'll regain consciousness again. I don 't have the skill."

Placing a hand on the woman's shoulder, Qui-Gon said softly, "You've done an amazing amount as it is, Bennie. How is the baby faring?"

Accepting the compliment with a smile, the woman responded, "I'd like to do an MRI and an ultrasound tomorrow. From what I can see now, the baby is just fine. But I need to sleep, I can't assess her condition further while operating sleep-deprived."

"That's understood," Qui-Gon said wryly, indicating his exhausted Padawan with a slight smile. "Can we help? We'd be glad to stay here and keep an eye on her..."

Bennie exchanged glances with the other woman, then they drew the men out of the room. "Master Jinn," Lady Decarr began, but Qui-Gon cut her off.

"Qui-Gon, please, Lady Decarr."

Lady Decarr smiled slightly; it did not reach her eyes. "If you don't mind, I'd best stick with Master Jinn, it's safer for all of us. You must realize, if my brother or any one of the other factions discovers I've been here with you, I will be imprisoned and you will be forced off the planet. And Liskat... Liskat will probably die along with her baby."

The two Jedi exchanged long glances. They needed no mind-speech between them to realize what the other was thinking. "It's as bad as all that then?" Qui-Gon asked gently. "You - she would get no sympathy from your brother or anyone else in the party?"

"Oh, it's actually much worse," she said airily, her face devastated to the point of tears and belying her light tone. "The fact that Longus is my brother means nothing, to him or to me. But there is nothing... nothing I would do to put my friend in peril. You MUST return to your ship and pretend that you have never been here."

// I don't like this, Master, // Obi-Wan sent, his mind voice agitated.

// I don't either, Obi-Wan, // Qui-Gon responded wearily. // But she has a point. We can't do anything to put Liskat or her baby in peril. Not to mention this Sith-damned excuse for a mission. // Aloud, he said, "Is there any way that you could find to allow us to come here and see her, help you?"

Bennie sighed. "I'll think about it. I'm sure I can come up with something." She looked at Lady Decarr. "If you receive a message that has a diamond sigil at the bottom, follow its directions. In the meantime, we've never met."

Nodding reluctantly, Qui-Gon said, "Very well. Will you allow us to say goodbye?"

"Master Jinn, she's unconscious," Bennie said, exasperated.

"Not to Jedi, dear lady. We'd like to apprise her of her situation. It could help her heal herself."

Grimacing, Bennie said, "I do NOT want to know. This some of that supposed witchcraft, isn't it, Emya?"

"It's not witchcraft, Bennie..." the other woman started. This appeared to be a long standing argument and Qui-Gon raised his hands to forestall it.

"Please. We're wasting time. Let us see her briefly and then we'll go."

Liskat looked more comfortable somehow than she had aboard the ship. The two Jedi approached the small bed, and Qui-Gon leaned forward to gently kiss her cheek, then took her hand. "As we did on Ulaan, then, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan answered softly. Qui-Gon took a moment to reflect on the fact that his normally irrepressible Padawan had been quiet and reticent. He briefly wondered why, then realized he knew the probable answer. He resolved to get the younger man some sleep and cuddle time, before they both were driven mad by the increasingly miserable situation.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan had taken his Master's hand and embraced him tightly, needing the contact as much for reassurance as communication. Gently, they spun their awareness into each other, and from there into Liskat's mind.

She was dreaming. It was like watching a holonovel on a set where the three dimensional hold had gone out. The color faded in and out along with the sound and the continuity. Scenes of her whirlwind courtship with Dorim were abruptly supplanted with visions of their bonding ceremony, even their first night together. Focusing on the ceremony, of which he had been a part, Qui-Gon tried to take over her dream-scape to talk to her.

// Liskat? Love? Do you hear me? //

The healthy, happy Liskat who stood across from her beloved, smiled and turned to her dream Qui-Gon. // Qui! My dear, I'm so glad you're here. Obi too! This is the happiest day of my life, you know. // Her mental voice was still strong, but unfocused, fading in and out.

// Yes, dear one, I know, // Qui-Gon answered, smiling. // I remember it well. But I need you to concentrate on the now, Liskat. //

// The Force brought us together, you know, // she continued happily, staring at her then soon-to-be bondmate with quiet joy. // We felt it from the first moment we met. //

Qui-Gon sighed. // Liskat, sweeting, do you remember your mission to Chenya? //

The smile not leaving her face, she said, // I became pregnant on that planet you know. What a surprise! It was like the Force sang between us that night...// The focus shifted again and the two men were suddenly watching their friends wrapped together in sweaty bliss, kissing and nuzzling each other.

Frustrated, Qui-Gon murmured to his Padawan, // I don't think we're getting through, Obi-Wan. //

Abruptly, the scene shifted back to the bonding ceremony, only Dorim was no longer the dream Dorim. A blue tinged hand reached out and touched his mate's face tenderly. // Lishka love, you must listen to them. The baby's life depends on it. //

// Dor? // Qui-Gon whispered, awed.

The Force ghost did not take his eyes from Liskat's face. // Yes, Qui-love. When you stood with us that day, pledging to help should we ever need it, you never dreamed it would be this way, did you? // His voice was quiet and gentle and the Force hummed along with him in counterpoint.

// I don't want to remember, Dor, // Liskat was saying. // It hurts. Why can't I go with you? It doesn't hurt with you. //

Yanking his attention away from his former lover, Qui-Gon turned to Liskat. // I know, sweeting, I know. But you must. We have to leave you here, in the care of your friend Emya and the nurse-midwife. They will care for you until we can come get you. //

// Liskat? // Obi-Wan's voice was soft and hesitant, but she turned to him with a smile.

// Obi-Wan. My sweet friend...I'm so glad you're here with Qui-Gon. He needs you, you know. Dor told me. //

Struggling to remain calm, Obi-Wan said, // I know, Liskat, I know. Please, try to remain here for us, for the baby. The baby needs you to stay. We need you to stay. Please? //

Frowning a little in concentration, she looked between the three of them, finally settling on her bondmate. // Dor? When can I be with you? // Her voice was plaintive, hurt reflected in every nuance, and her friends felt heartsick to hear it.

// Soon, Lishka love, soon. I promise. Now, you need to be strong for our baby. Can you do that? //

Nodding, she looked down at herself, and the bulge that was suddenly in her dream-self's middle. // I will. But... but hurry. Please? I don't want to be alone. //

// You won't be alone, Lishka love, // Dorim said faintly, beginning to turn back into her dream Dorim. // I'll be here when you need me. //

// And we will too, // Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon said simultaneously, their mental voices merging.

Once again, Liskat turned back to her happy dreams. However, now the two Jedi could feel her determination to stay whole for them, and withdrew from her mind slowly, to find both their faces wet with tears.

Lady Decarr got them back to their shuttle before scuttling off into the night. The Jedi made their weary way aboard and locked down, intending on getting some sleep before daylight. They briefly contemplated launching into orbit and pretending they had never been at the port, but decided there could still be records somewhere and it was more prudent to simply evade the real reason they had landed.

"It's just over three hours until dawn, Master," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his eyes as he secured the ramp. "You should try to sleep."

"We should try to sleep, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon gently insisted, taking his Padawan into his arms and holding him tightly.

Shaking his head against the large warm chest, Obi-Wan objected, "It's too dangerous."

Qui-Gon pulled back and cupped the younger man's face in his big hands. "I will not be able to sleep without you next to me, Obi-Wan. Come. We need to get undressed and rest. Please lay down next to me and just let me hold you for a while." One thumb rubbed gently at an eyebrow. "I-I need to reconnect with you. I suspect there won't be much time later."

Obi-Wan was unable to hide his relief. He was perfectly happy to guard his Master's sleeping form, but he had to admit that the events of the past day had left him rattled in the extreme. Holding tightly to Qui-Gon, he buried his head in the taller man's neck and nodded his acquiescence. "We should go now, then. Dawn will be here too soon," he said, his voice muffled.

Finishing the lock down and setting the auto defense grid took but a moment, then they stripped down to their leggings and undertunics and crawled into the bunk together. To his surprise, Obi-Wan fell asleep almost immediately, but Qui-Gon had a harder time of it.

He clutched at the slender form wrapped around him and let the despair he had suppressed flow through him, to be surrendered into the Force. Seeing his old friend and former lover as a Force ghost had brought home to him the fact that the man would never be there again - he would never be able to touch Dorim, hug him, tease him, get drunk with him...

// Getting maudlin in your dotage, old man? // The amused voice was everywhere and nowhere, and indeed, he wasn't even sure he heard it. But for some reason, it helped him relax, and suddenly, he was asleep.

The next morning did not start well. The Port Authority was incensed they would have had the nerve to land without proper certification and permission, never mind that there was no one on hand in the middle of the night to give it. No sooner had Qui-Gon managed to unravel this faux pas

and soothe the ruffled feathers of this bureaucrat, than ten others stepped up. The final straw came several hours past dawn as Qui-Gon tried again to reach the office of the Speaker for the Conservatives. Longus Decarr had been elected to that position just a few days before and his office was already well versed in bureaucratic stonewalling. Step by painful step the Master Jedi managed to climb ranks until he spoke with Decarr's personal secretary, a man with a face so tight and hard Obi-Wan couldn't help but think he was sitting on something massively uncomfortable. This secretary finally demanded to speak with Knight apNorill, insisting that only through a proper hand off of command could the Speaker's office accept this sudden change in Jedi authority. Qui-Gon snapped.

"If I were able to produce Knight apNorill I would do so, and gratefully too," he growled at the man. "However, my dear friend Dorim apNorill has been most foully murdered, ambushed as he returned from a meeting with the Independent faction on the southern continent. It is this incident I wish to discuss with the Speaker. Today. Now, preferably. Definitely within the next hour or the Jedi will leave this forsaken world and your Sith damned people to their own devices. Have I made myself clear?"

Briefly, the secretary expressed shock at Qui-Gon's words, then his face closed back down again. "Most irregular, most irregular. I will advise the Speaker of these events. You will be contacted. Do not attempt to leave your vessel."

Abruptly, the transmission ended. Qui-Gon massaged his temples, releasing his excess of emotion to the Force as Obi-Wan stepped up behind him and began massaging his shoulders. "I suppose it's a good thing that there is no way to overload the Force with negative emotions," the younger man said, digging into tense muscles. "Else we might trigger an explosion on this planet."

Snorting with amusement, Qui-Gon agreed. "Let's get something to eat while we wait. I find I have no wish to break bread with these fools."

Well within the stated hour, the call came through. Once again, Qui-Gon faced the pinched-mouth secretary, who was apparently furious that protocol had been abandoned in favor of accepting these no-account Jedi. "The Speaker has cleared his calendar for you this morning. There will be a car to pick you up in fifteen minutes. We expect you here directly." Then the transmission went dead.

Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan went aft to change his tunics. After a moment, Qui-Gon followed him. While his Padawan changed, Qui-Gon sat on their bunk and watched him. "Padawan," he began slowly, "what I said yesterday still holds. We must take care never to be separated here. Even on trips to the necessary. I know it sounds somewhat foolish..."

Pulling his head through his clean tunic, Obi-Wan fixed his Master with a serious stare. "No, it doesn't Master. I've had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. It hasn't improved. I will abide by your wishes in this matter."

"Good." Qui-Gon reached out and straightened his apprentice's sash. "I'm not happy with this mission, Obi-Wan, I think you've picked up on that. There doesn't appear to be anything we can really do to help these people, and I'm afraid the whole thing has been reduced to political expediency." He sighed. "If it weren't for the innocent lives we might be able to save, I'd pull us out of here in a heartbeat, and damn the Council and the Senate.

Obi-Wan smiled at his Master's vehemence. Qui-Gon smiled back, faintly, then continued. "I have no hope that you'll be overlooked the way Liskat apparently was, since you are not female. However, remember to keep your eyes open at all times. Read the nuances. Consider this a drill, and keep your emotions as separate from your intellect as possible. Also, remember we have something they cannot impede, our telepathy. Use it whenever you need to."

"Yes, Master." Running a brush through his short hair, Obi-Wan considered re-braiding his tail and decided he didn't have time. One last check in the mirror and he was done.

"Tuck your lightsaber more to the back, so it isn't as obvious," Qui-Gon said, doing the same for his own. "Leave your robe on and your hood up, as much as possible. The more studious a picture we present, the less threatening we will hopefully be."

And so it was that two robed and hooded figures descended from their ship to meet the ground car dispatched for them. They were not spoken to, nor did they initiate conversation. Obi-Wan centered himself and focused on fading into the background, even as he heightened his other senses to avoid missing anything. Qui-Gon sent approval of his efforts through their bond as they traveled through the capitol.

Dessant was not a pretty city. Many of the buildings had been partially destroyed and no effort made to either rebuild them or raze them. The few people out on the streets moved with a hunched over fear, stepping carefully and avoiding direct eye contact with their fellows. Obi-Wan saw few unescorted women about, as well, and when the car passed a park where a few rusted pieces of equipment denoted a playground, he was unsurprised to find it empty.

Several times the vehicle passed groups of armed, uniformed men apparently on patrol. Passersby gave these groups wide berth, and from their postures, Obi-Wan inferred they were used to such deferential treatment. The few women on the streets in particular avoided them. Obi-Wan tried not to think why this might be so.

Before long, the arrived at the capitol building, a gaudy, ugly, three-story building surrounded by barbed wire, anti-aircraft guns and armed men. They went through no fewer than four checkpoints before driving into an underground bunker, where they were met by the pinch-faced little secretary, who led them - without a word - through a labyrinth to a drab meeting room. Taking seats at an empty conference table, the Jedi waited in silence, meditating, for nearly an hour before anyone else came into the room.

Speaker Decarr was preceded into the chamber by two obvious, armed security guards. He was followed by a half a dozen other men, carrying a variety of datapads, file folders, and boxes. Taking a seat at the head of the table, he nodded to the Jedi who, for the first time, lowered their hoods. // He's nervous, Master, // Obi-Wan sent, his face impassive.

// I know. Something may have happened. Stay alert. //

Rising gracefully to his feet, Qui-Gon bowed slightly. "Speaker Decarr. Thank you for meeting with us. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, this is Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. We have been sent here by the Senate under the auspices of the Jedi Order to replace Knights apNorill and Vess in helping your people determine your fate peacefully." He sat back down and folded his hands serenely on the table before him. "As I am sure you are aware, Knight apNorill has been murdered, something we only discovered once we arrived in your system."

Decarr was a pasty white man who apparently didn't get out much. His lips were generous, his hair oily, his demeanor furtive. He acted as though he expected someone to stick a knife in his back at any moment. // Given what Liskat said about him, I don't doubt it's possible, // Obi-Wan thought.

Licking his lips nervously, the Speaker bobbed his head. "You are well come, Master Jinn. We - we received a communication from Praetor Samnud late yestereve, demanding to know why his requests were not responded to. Since we had not spoken with Knight apNorill, we were at a loss over how to reply. Can you enlighten us?" Before Qui-Gon could speak, he said hastily, "We have been trying to reach the Praetor all morning, hopefully we'll have communication with him shortly."

Inclining his head, Qui-Gon said, "That seems to be the wise course. I have Knight apNorill's notes before he left for the meeting, but he and his bondmate were attacked on their way back. There were no datachips in the wreckage of the speeder."

"Oh, yes, that's right, he had his wife... er, his bondmate with him. Where is she?" Decarr asked, frowning.

Qui-Gon's face went very still. "She did not survive."

"Unfortunate, unfortunate, although what can be expected when you take a woman into a combat situation... at least she might have told us what they spoke of." Decarr seemed completely unsympathetic, and Obi-Wan could feel his Master releasing his fury into the Force. There was a muted beep and one of Decarr's assistants bent over his datapad, then murmured to the Speaker. "Ah. I'm informed we've finally gotten through to the Praetor."

A fairly large holoscreen at one end of the long chamber lit up, then gradually resolved into a face. Samnud was florid where Decarr was pasty. His eyes were small and squinty, he was nearly bald and a long, black root descended from one corner of his mouth, which he chewed on constantly. Oddly, his voice was very high for someone as broad and barrel shaped as he was.

He moved right to the point. "I was told the Jedi would be there! Where's apNorill?"

Frowning, Decarr said, "apNorill is dead, Samnud. Didn't you know that? He died on his way back from meeting with YOU. I wouldn't be surprised if you had arranged it."

Sneering, the Praetor said, "Oh, yes, that's rich. apNorill is a Jedi. They can't die, you idiot."

Clearing his throat, Qui-Gon interrupted. "Praetor Samnud. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi. Knights apNorill and Vess were attacked on their way back from meeting with you two days ago. My apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I found the wreckage of the speeder. Although his body wasn't found, we have irrefutable evidence that Knight apNorill has indeed died. We will be taking over for him and his bondmate, on orders from the Senate and the Temple."

"Well that's a work of shit!" the Praetor shouted. "Then he didn't tell you what we spoke about! I don't take to having to hammer all this crap out again, let me tell you!"

"I have all of Knight apNorill's notes," Qui-Gon said mildly. "If you would like, we can pick up from where he left off. Perhaps if you told us what conditions you had agreed to..."

The meeting had been another in a long line of mostly useless attempts to get the two factions talking to each other, to get them on the same page. The Independents and the Conservatives were the most popular and least extremist of the three factions, and Dorim had believed that if he could get them to agree, the Separatists could be eventually overcome.

The difficulty lay in mutual suspicion and distrust. For the next few hours, Qui-Gon put forth all his diplomatic skill to get the two parties talking. Neither the Speaker nor the Praetor seemed capable of civil conversation for longer than five words, then they would degenerate into insults and squabbling.

At one point, a young woman timidly entered the room, bearing a tray with glasses and a large carafe of water. Totally ignored by everyone in the room - except the Jedi - she made her way around the table, supplying them all with drinks. When she reached Obi-Wan, an incautious movement caused the tumbler she was placing before him to fall. The men looked up from their squabbling for only a split second before dismissing her. Obi-Wan bent to pick up the glass even as she squatted near him to retrieve it.

She reached for and grabbed the glass, then met his eyes. Deliberately, she tucked a many-folded piece of paper into the top of his boots, then stood, replacing the glass on the table before him and filling it. Then she left the room.

// Did you see, Master? // Obi-Wan sent, his expression completely bland.

// Yes, Padawan. We'll have to wait to look at it. //

Eventually, a major sticking point was reached, neither side wanting to give on it. "I have plans here that SHOW why we cannot have a base within the city..."

"Then send them to me!" bellowed the Speaker. Qui-Gon held up his hands wearily.

"Gentlemen. I can see where this will be difficult. Perhaps if I and my apprentice were to come to your base, Praetor, and see these documents. If you were to convince me of their relevance..."

"apNorill agreed to them," Samnud growled.

"Then I'm sure that I will too, if I see them. However, I must insist we be given permission to land on your base in our shuttle."

"OUT of the question!" the florid man yelled, banging the table before him. "I've instituted that no-fly rule for a REASON, damn you..."

"Then we have nothing further to discuss," Qui-Gon interrupted mildly. "I remind you that Knight apNorill and his bondmate were killed because of this no-fly rule, Praetor. I will not allow myself or my Padawan to be placed in a position of danger because of unfounded paranoia. And I cannot agree with documents I have not seen."

Glaring at the tall Jedi, Samnud's jaw worked at the root dangling from his mouth. "A hardass, huh?" he finally said, grimacing. "Well, I can't say as I don't appreciate it. Very well. Tomorrow. You upload the specs for your shuttle, and be here local time tenth hour. Precisely. You get me?"

Inclining his head in agreement, Qui-Gon took a sip of water, intending to move on to the next point. That was forestalled, however, when the door to the room banged open and a young, patently terrified young man entered, moving directly to the Speaker to whisper in his ear.

The Speaker's aides all leaned in as the young man whispered some information to them. A few questions were asked, then the Speaker turned towards the Jedi, his face even paler than it had been.

"Uh, ah.. there's been a delivery..." Quickly grabbing his glass, the Speaker took a large swig of water, draining it.

Looking at the other man with disdain, Samnud said, "Well, spit it out man. What is it?"

Turning to the holoscreen, Decarr said, "It looks like you're off the hook, Samnud. I'm sorry, Master Jinn... A box was just delivered from the Klimman's people. Security went through the usual procedures to determine whether it was a bomb. It's not. You did tell us you didn't find Knight apNorill's body."

The two Jedi went absolutely still, almost forgetting to breathe. Gesturing, the Speaker had the messenger step out the door and wheel in a hand cart, on which rested a box. A rather small box. There were brownish-red stains along the side of it. It smelled. Attached to one side was a clear plastic bag in which rested Dorim's lightsaber, in pieces.

Almost against his will, Qui-Gon stood and slowly moved over to the box, resting one hand on it lightly. // Oh, Force... Dor... //

The Speaker was still speaking. "We can have our people do a forensic analysis of the remains, if you'd like, Master Jinn. I always knew that Klimman Horth was crazy, but he's really crossed the line now."

Qui-Gon didn't hear him. When he had touched the box, he knew what had happened... in an instant, he relived the attack, knew how Dorim had willingly given himself up to prevent his attackers from looking further for Liskat... and he knew that Dorim was in the three foot square box, and how he had come to be put there.

All of Dorim. In a three foot square box.

Obi-Wan moved to his Master's side, placing one hand on the broad shoulder. Through their bond he could feel his Master's anguish, and suddenly, he just wanted out of there. "An analysis won't be necessary, Speaker," he said softly. "Knight apNorill's remains are here; the Jedi have ways of sensing this. May we have permission to withdraw? We'd like to take the box with us, so that we can return it to Coruscant for proper internment."

Stammering, the Speaker said, "Of course, of course. And of course you'll be meeting with Samnud tomorrow..." He turned back to the holoscreen, where the Praetor's face was lax with shock.

"Yes, certainly," he said, finally. "This is... sorry, Jedi. I rather liked apNorill. Too bad. I'll see you two here tomorrow at ten sharp." With that he cut the transmission.

"I'll have the, er, box delivered to your ship immediately, Master Jinn," Decarr said, rising, apparently signaling an end to the meeting. "Please let me know how your meeting with Samnud goes tomorrow. Perhaps we can all meet here again the day after."

The pinch-faced secretary waited for them in the hallway, impatiently shifting from foot to foot. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan raised their hoods and followed him to the same car in which they arrived, and were briskly chauffeured back to their shuttle. The box with Dorim's remains followed immediately thereafter, and Obi-Wan saw it placed into cold storage in the hold of the shuttle. Then he locked the shuttle back down and went to find his Master.

Qui-Gon stood in the sleeping quarters, still in shock from the combination of psychic backlash and feeling his friend's death, staring at nothing much. Gently, Obi-Wan divested him of his robe, and hung it and his own in the closet, then led his Master to the bed, where he helped him sit. While removing Qui-Gon's boots for him, Obi-Wan remembered the note that had been slipped to him earlier. He took it out and unfolded it, then passed it to Qui-Gon without a word.

Sir. Trust this courier. If you need to reach us, let her know. Everything is well and stable. The little one is fine.

There was no signature, but a small diamond sigil lay at the bottom of the note. Qui-Gon nodded, then ripped the paper into tiny shreds, depositing them in the trash.

For the first time since the conference room, Obi-Wan spoke. "Are you all right, Qui-Gon?"

The older man turned tear-filled eyes on his Padawan. Gently, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon and pulled him down to his shoulder, feeling it grow damp as the tears fell. They sat like that for some time, the Padawan offering the Master what comfort he could while the Master came to terms with what he had felt.

Obi-Wan asked for and received the impressions Qui-Gon got when he touched the gruesome coffin, but those sensations did not anger him. He was so far beyond anger that it had no hold on him. In his mind, he swore to himself to get Qui-Gon, and Liskat's baby, off the planet in one piece, somehow, any way possible. Regardless of the outcome of the mission.

Finally, Qui-Gon pulled back and gently kissed Obi-Wan in thanks. "We need to eat, then meditate, I think," he said, regaining his composure. "What is the time difference between here and the Independent base on the southern continent?"

"Six hours ahead, Master. We'll need to leave in the middle of the night, local time, to make it there on time."

"Sleep for us, then, after we meditate," Qui-Gon decided. They stood and Obi-Wan started to move towards their small galley. Qui-Gon stopped him though, and smiled sadly. "By the way, I was very proud at your comportment today, Padawan. Very proud. I'm sorry I put you into such a situation."

Smiling in reaction to the praise, Obi-Wan caressed his Master's cheek. "It could hardly be construed to be your fault, Master. Besides, I learned from the best."

The next two weeks flew by in a jumble of meetings, travel, lack of sleep and lack of food. It was possible that the hideous death of Dorim apNorill managed to bring together differences of opinion and smooth over arguments - at least the primary players in two factions had a common enemy now. A major sticking point - the location of the principal army base - was brought close to resolution, close enough to bring Praetor Samnud to Dessant for the first time in months. Once he and the Speaker were actually into the same room, Qui-Gon began making slow, plodding headway in resolving some of the other points of conflict.

Then the suicide bombings began.

The targets were fairly indiscriminate. Mostly financial institutions, government headquarters, and army headquarters; some private homes of prominent citizens; a few targets that made no sense at all. Sometimes it was a single person, generally a male, with several pounds of explosives under his clothes. Sometimes it was a car or truck loaded down with incendiaries. Once, it was a baby carriage.

Security became tighter, which didn't help the Jedi at all. They had found a way to get to see Liskat on a fairly regular basis, by invoking Senatorial privilege and humanitarian relief. Bennie's hospice, which unlike the public hospitals would turn no one away, no matter their allegiance or ethnicity, was one of the first places they 'assessed.' Obi-Wan went out of his way to cultivate an appearance of genial, somewhat impulsive open-heartedness, an impression his Master furthered by publicly dressing him down for it frequently. The parties involved were convinced that Obi-Wan was nothing more than a boy with good secretarial skills; he would frequently get into trouble for diverting medical and food supplies to Bennie's or other areas where it was genuinely needed. When caught or called on it, his Master would speak sternly and promise a caning - in private, which of course never materialized. But Obi-Wan would take pains to behave severely chastised the next day.

Though not able to visit Liskat daily, they were able to visit frequently. Qui-Gon and Bennie got into long discourses about the Force, and Obi-Wan became the hit of the many orphaned children who basically had the run of the place. The Jedi would frequently commune with Liskat mentally, and would report on her slowly deteriorating mental condition to Bennie, who would shake her head.

"It's a Goddess miracle that she's alive at all, dear thing," the nurse-midwife clucked at one point, just after Qui-Gon had slid out of Liskat's dreams. Those dreams were often of her bondmate, and Qui-Gon could feel the unmistakable presence of Dorim often helping his Lishka-love survive for her baby's sake.

"The Force is providing for her, Bennie," he said quietly, loath to release his friend's hand. Bennie cocked her head to one side.

"Master Qui-Gon, all the time I've argued with you and listened to you describe this Force thingy, I've never realized. But I think we're talking about the same thing. You say the Force, I say the Goddess." The thin, tired looking woman shrugged. "Same thing, I think. The Goddess is looking out for her."

"Yet this isn't the same Goddess as the Klimm, is it, Bennie?"

She reared back in shock. "Goddess no, Master Qui-Gon. Bless her, the Goddess of the hearth is a much nicer person than that vicious God of the Mountain of theirs. We women don't much hold with that, and what the Klimman did with your friend's husband..." Bennie shivered.

They were sitting in companionable silence when Obi-Wan joined them. "Master, we'd best go. It's getting near dark."

"Yes, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, rising and reluctantly letting go of Liskat's hand. "Bennie, how much longer before the baby can be born?"

Bennie chewed her lip as she thought. "Well, sir, that's a puzzler. When she arrived, I'd have said another two months, minimum. But, well, it's only been about three weeks, and I'd say another two or three and she'll be all right to meet the world. Not perfect, mind; I'd much rather give her another ten weeks. But if it comes to it..."

"The Force - or maybe your Goddess - is helping us in all ways, Bennie. That's good to know." Turning, Qui-Gon stopped and looked back at the nurse-midwife. "Her?"

Smiling tiredly, Bennie said, "Now don't tell me your blessed Force didn't give you THAT information, Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Yes, her. And from what the MRI tells me, she's perfect. Best start thinking of names!"

Increased security did help in reducing the suicide bombings, for a while. Then the hysteria escalated when the army managed to head off a plot to blow up some government buildings. There was little doubt that the leader of the plot took his orders from the Klimman. However, most of the munitions and several of the participants were from off-world, primarily Bos and Suuva. Suddenly, the ethnic purges were back, and anyone with any hint of off-world in them was suspect.

Qui-Gon did his best to forestall the inevitable but it seemed impossible. By dint of some fast talking, he managed to set up a conference between the Speaker, the Praetor and Klimman Horth, the last coming via holo, but it was a meeting doomed from the start.

The Klimman was a singularly ugly man. His face was mottled, his hair non-existent, and his eyes wild. Tall and thin, he looked almost like a scarecrow, but a malevolent intelligence lurked behind his visage. He did not talk so much as he sneered.

And he wouldn't talk to the Jedi, or even acknowledge their presence. He made it clear from the outset that he considered them infidels, unworthy of his attention. His demeanor towards the Speaker and the Praetor was one of an outraged father addressing recalcitrant boys, which made them all the more defensive and angry. Not able to address the Klimman directly, Qui-Gon settled for advising the other two men and did his best to help them maintain their equilibrium.

Rather than listening to their pleas for a dialog, the Klimman came to the table demanding their immediate and total surrender to the Separatists. "Your days of consorting with these foul, off-world demons are over! Chenya was meant to be for Chenyars!" The man was literally foaming. Every point brought up, every attempt at moving towards a resolution of differences, was met with a non-sequitur of a quasi-religious nature. He railed against miscegenation; he called for an immediate purge of all non-Chenyar from the planet; he demanded their instant capitulation to his theocracy - a theocracy with him as the leader.

"Horth, you're a damned idiot!" shouted Decarr in frustration at one point, after all proposals had been completely ignored. Obi-Wan privately agreed with the Speaker, which was rather upsetting since he had come to despise the man for the petty bureaucrat he was, but his attention was drawn away. Two men had come into the room and were conferring with Praetor Samnud privately; the Praetor looked enormously pleased with himself and was chewing on his disgusting root with abandon as he listened to whatever the men were saying.

// He's up to something, // Obi-Wan thought, shooting a glance at Qui-Gon. His Master was busy with Decarr, trying to calm the Speaker down while giving him advice on tactics to use with the religious fanatic, so Obi-Wan concentrated on the military leader. He wasn't easy to read, as he had formidable natural shielding - Obi-Wan had noted to his Master earlier in the mission that it appeared the lower the natural intellect the stronger the shielding, and his Master, after recovering from his laughter, had assigned Obi-Wan to meditate on inappropriate comments.

There was definitely something going on though, in the Praetor's tiny mind, and Obi-Wan was determined to discover what it was. Something about the Klimman and tracing the holo transmission...

Rearing back in shock, barely able to keep his expression neutral, Obi-Wan sent a frantic thought to his Master along their link. // Master! The Praetor! He's planning... //

It was too late. In the middle of yet another diatribe on how no one was conceivably as religious, as righteous, as perfectly suited to guide the Chenyar people to paradise as he, the holo began to break up. Screaming was heard in the background, along with sounds of blaster fire and munitions.

Quickly, Qui-Gon turned to the Praetor and bellowed, "What have you DONE? Call it off NOW!"

The half-chewed root falling from his pasty lips, Samnud blinked at Qui-Gon. "Whaddaya mean, what have I done? I've done what you nutless jerks were too spineless to do!"

The Klimman's eyes were even wilder than before as he frantically looked around. "The God of the Mountain shall smite thee for this transgression, you foul..." Then his head exploded as he was apparently shot from behind.

Grimacing, Obi-Wan reached beyond the man sitting next to him - the man that was suddenly on the floor, retching violently in reaction - and shut off the transmission. In the ensuing silence, the transmission technician's vomiting echoed throughout the room.

"Samnud you blithering IDIOT! You poor half of a pacca! I can't believe..." Decarr trailed off, his jaw working as he glared at the military man. "WHAT did you do?! We agreed there would be no action taken once the trace was complete!"

Looking between the two men, Qui-Gon's face was set in stone. "I was aware that the only reason behind this charade was to get the location of the Klimman's base, but I had hopes that something might be accomplished regardless. Apparently I was wrong... I know I was wrong. Force save me but I have never been confronted with such lunacy..."

"What's the matter with you two?" bellowed the Praetor. "I eliminated him! Something you two were too damn afraid to do!"

"You made a MARTYR of him, you MORON!" Speaker Decarr rose from his seat and made a rude gesture at Samnud. "Gods help us, you made a martyr of him!"

Realizing nothing more would be accomplished that day, Qui-Gon stood and motioned for his Padawan. "Hopefully we can discuss the ramifications of this rather precipitous action tomorrow. Good day, gentlemen."

"Off 't see your doxie, eh, Jedi?" The Praetor sneered, not at all cowed by the unilateral censure his actions had earned him. Qui-Gon paused, turning, his face betraying no hint of his thoughts.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, we all know about the little chippie you been seeing over at her so-called hospital. And here I thought you Jedi were all business, no pleasure at all! Huh. Woulda picked somebody with a little more meat on her bones, I would have, but there's no accounting for taste..."

Qui-Gon's deep blue eyes might have been made of stone for all the emotion they carried at these words. Pursing his lips into a straight line, he nodded to the room in general and left, Obi-Wan close behind.

His own emotions still roiling over the events in the conference room, Obi-Wan was glad when his Master waved off their driver and began walking away from the government complex. It was nearly a mile to the port, but if Qui-Gon wanted to walk, that meant they were likely to visit Bennie and Liskat, and that both Jedi would have time to purge their anger and horror into the Force.

They were silent for most of the walk, Qui-Gon slightly shortening his stride so his Padawan could keep up easier. Just before they reached the hospice, Obi-Wan said, "Do you think it will hurt to have the Praetor believe that Bennie is your lover, Master?"

"No, Obi-Wan, I don't," Qui-Gon replied shortly. "It may actually help her in the long run. Not to mention us... since our relationship cannot be discovered. Liskat was so right about this place being Sithly chaos. Do you feel the danger coming from Samnud's actions today?"

"Yes, Master, I do," the younger man replied. "I can't pinpoint the exact form..."

"Nor can I, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly. "But it is coming."

Bennie was inundated with refugees when they arrived. Qui-Gon waved to her and went to the basement to 'speak' with Liskat, leaving Obi-Wan to help. The refugees were children, ranging in ages from toddler to mid-adolescence. They were dressed in rags and each had the same gaunt, shell-shocked expression that tore at the Padawan's heart. As Bennie went through them giving each a cursory examination, Obi-Wan sat in the middle of the group of eight, pulling the youngest on his lap to cuddle. They went unresisting, and he could feel how frozen their emotions were after whatever horrible events they had endured.

Bennie enlisted several of her resident patients in dividing up the children, then led them all, including Obi-Wan carrying the very youngest who had fallen into an exhausted sleep, to a large room in the back of the hospice. There were several beds, each made neatly with rough blankets, and it wasn't long before the efficient nurse mid-wife had each child assigned to a bed and was preparing soup by the gallon.

As he carried bowls of soup and hunks of brown bread to children almost too hungry to eat, Obi-Wan and Bennie quietly talked. He gave her an edited version of the events at the conference and she shuddered in reaction. "Can't say as I'm all that upset," she muttered, helping another child to the small table to eat. "But there isn't anyone who deserves such as that. And now..." She looked at the Padawan sharply. "What'll happen now? It's not going to be over, is it?"

"I don't know," Obi-Wan replied, serving another bowl. "Do you need me any more? I should go check on Qui-Gon."

"No, no, Goddess bless you, you've done so much to help me already." Impulsively, she quickly hugged the young man, just as quickly releasing him. "Go on with you. Stop by before you leave if you can; I think you've developed a fan club."

Qui-Gon was deep in communion with Liskat when Obi-Wan found him. Sitting behind his beloved, he wrapped his arms around the bigger man and gently insinuated himself into Qui-Gon's aura and from there into Liskat's dreams.

Her dreams had become increasingly vague and disjointed. Qui-Gon feared it was due to her brain's accelerating degeneration, and worried over what it signaled for the baby's health. Two continuing themes in her dreams were her bonding day and the night her baby was conceived, which indicated to Qui-Gon that her Force connection was not completely severed; those were two moments when she had been very close to the Force.

Obi-Wan found himself standing next to his Master on the dais where Liskat and Dorim had taken their vows to each other. There was no longer any background, just a swirl of color, and the four principals. There was a faint blue tinge around Dorim as he stood, hand in hand with his bondmate. Liskat's voice was dreamy and vague, her thoughts rambling.

// Pledge my soul to you, // she was whispering at Dorim, who smiled gently at her. // Hullo, Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon loves you, you know. //

// Yes, Liskat, // Obi-Wan answered her, blinking back tears. // I know. He loves you too. I love you too. //

Abruptly they were on the shuttle, where a naked Liskat lay atop her bondmate on their bed. // We've made new life, Dor my love, // she whispered, touching Dorim's face. // Our little girl. // She looked up at Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, suddenly completely lucid. // Her name is Sionnach. That means 'fox' in my milk-language. And she's ready to be born at any time now. I've explained to her that neither of us will be here, but she knows you two and knows you will care for her. // Tears filled her wonderful eyes as she gripped her bondmate tightly. // Please love her, Qui, Obi. //

// We will, // Qui-Gon whispered, watching as the lucidity once again drained from her face. // We will, M'Liskatha, Dorim. I swear. //

// I swear too, // Obi-Wan murmured, gripping his Master tighter both mentally and physically. // She will want for nothing. //

With another sudden shift of the dream-scape, they stood in a wooded glen. Dorim was sitting beneath a tree, Liskat's head on his lap as he ran his hands through her shoulder-length dark hair. This Dorim was also blue-tinged, and looked up at them purposefully. // You are needed upstairs, my friends. Take care. Time grows very short. //

Slowly the scene faded out, like a watercolor painting in a rainshower, until they were once again faced with the cracked white-painted walls of the sick room. Obi-Wan buried his head in his Master's shoulder in reaction as Qui-Gon gently put Liskat's hand back on her stomach. Then Qui-Gon turned and hugged his Padawan to him tightly, sending soothing waves of the Force to him. It had been an adrenaline day, and apparently it wasn't over yet.

They heard a commotion, male, female and children's voices raised in agitation, from upstairs in the main room. // Obi-Wan, you know this place better than I - is there another way upstairs from here? // Qui-Gon asked quickly.

// Yes, Master, back here, // his Padawan answered, indicating a shadowy corner and narrow staircase.

// We don't want to be seen together, alone, // Qui-Gon sent, removing his robe and loosening his tunic and stola. // Nor do we want to give them reason to believe there's something else down here. You go up the back way; try to get to Bennie to explain. //

// Yes, Master, // Obi-Wan replied, hurrying up the back stairs as Qui-Gon strode up the main one.

A group of half a dozen militiamen were nose to nose with an outraged and terrified Bennie over the children she had so recently been caring for. >From the tug-of-war going on, it was evident the men wanted to take the children and Bennie was about to allow that only over her dead body. Composing himself, Qui-Gon sauntered into the fray, adjusting his belt as if he had only recently put it on. "What is going on here? Saaben, pet, I got tired of waiting for you."

Bennie blinked at the Jedi Master in confusion, but before she could say anything, the commander of the military unit turned and grimaced at Qui-Gon. "I was told you might be here. Don't interfere, Jedi, I have orders about these little terrorists."

Eyes narrowing in anger, Qui-Gon replied levelly, "These 'little terrorists' are children, commander. Where did your orders come from?" From the edge of his vision, Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan approach Bennie, lift one of the younger children from her arms and whisper urgently in her ear.

"My orders are from the Praetor himself, Jedi. And whatever they are, they' re Bos and deserve a gutting! Just save time later." The commander of the militiamen turned away to begin again, only to find himself this time confronting a phalanx of women led by one composed, intimidating Jedi Padawan. The children were behind, being hurried away by other women.

"I don't think so, commander," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Why don't you raise your Praetor on your comm-link? I'd like to discuss the situation with him."

Erupting, the commander stood toe-to-toe with Qui-Gon. "You damned fucking Jedi! Sticking your dicks everywhere you don't belong! I have my orders, dammit! Now MOVE!"

Whatever else the militiaman might be, he was unprepared for six foot four of imposing Jedi. Looking down his nose at the man, Qui-Gon simply stared, icily. "I believe I told you to raise your Praetor on comm-link." Subtly waving his hand, Qui-Gon repeated, "Please raise the Praetor on your comm-link, now."

Eyes glazing, the commander followed the mind-whammy and pulled his comm unit from a belt harness. Shortly, the tinny voice of Praetor Samnud could be heard. "By the gods, what is it NOW, Jinn? Why are you interfering?"

"Did you order the arrest of these children, Praetor?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice composed.

"YES, I did, not that it's any business of yours! That stupid doxie of yours needs to learn not to take in Bos!"

"They are children, Praetor, the oldest of which I'd say is about 14 standard. What possible reason could you have for executing children?" Qui-Gon's voice was still calm, still even, but through their bond Obi-Wan could feel the outrage, the need to punish.

"They're BOS!" Samnud bellowed. "What the fuck difference does it make! They don't belong here! If we let 'em stay, they'll only grow up to kill Chenyar!"

"I understand you have a constant need to kill things, Praetor," Qui-Gon said, with no small amount of sarcasm, "but may I suggest you practice on something else this time. I invoke Senatorial privilege and take these children under Jedi protection. We'll get them off the planet tonight. Will that satisfy you?"

"Oh whatever! You damned Jedi! Fine! Take them! But if they aren't off the planet TONIGHT, I'll have all of your hides attached to my wall!"

Qui-Gon handed the comm unit back to the commander, who shot the Jedi a dirty look and pulled his small unit out of the building. Turning to his apprentice, Qui-Gon said, "Obi-Wan, which Knight pair is currently attached to Bos?"

"I believe it's Knights H'rringta and Su. But, Master, we can't contact them except from orbit due to the blackout." Taking his Master's robe, he helped the older man put it back on.

"Yes, I know," Qui-Gon said. "Bennie?"

The nurse-midwife was staring at Qui-Gon with something very much like awe all over her face. "Master Qui-Gon, what you have done for us..."

Gently, Qui-Gon tipped her face up with one finger, smiling sadly down at her. "It's no more than I would want to do, Bennie. I wish I could get all of you out of here. Obi-Wan and I will have to launch to reach our counterparts on Bos. I need you to help. We need to get to the port immediately, then can you have the children there before dark?"

"I can do more than that, sir," she said, smiling up at the big man. "I have a friend at the port who I think can get you communications off planet without having to launch."

"Don't put anyone into danger, Bennie," Qui-Gon cautioned.

"I won't," she said. "But he's already asked what he could do to help us. I delivered his wife's baby, you see."

A small convoy of ragged ground vehicles left the hospice shortly thereafter, headed for the port. All the children and two adults - also from Bos - were there, and once inside the shuttle, it was very crowded. Bennie called her friend from the shuttle's communication gear, and within a half an hour, they had contacted Knight Su on Bos. The transmission was weak and grainy, but much better than nothing.

"Yes, of course, we'll be glad to pick them up," Knight Su said in answer to Qui-Gon's request. "We can rendezvous with you in about two days, midpoint." The young Calamarian looked pensive as she transmitted the coordinates. "I have to warn you, Master Jinn, that I'm not sure how well the children will be accepted here either. If they were born on Chenya, they'll be considered Chenyar, for all they're ethnic Bos."

"If they stay here, they'll be killed, Knight Su," Qui-Gon answered. "Their chances are better with you, I'm sure."

"Probably," she agreed, sighing. "You have my sympathies, being stuck on Chenya. We heard what happened earlier today."

Closing his eyes and sighing, Qui-Gon said, "News travels fast. I'm not at all sure how long we'll be able to stay at this rate." He noted Bennie waving towards the chrono, and added, "I must sign off now. See you in about two days. Jinn out."

He and Bennie walked back aft, where they found Obi-Wan in their quarters, again swarmed under by the curiously silent children. He looked up as his Master entered the room. "This is going to be difficult, but not impossible. Can one of them meet us?"

"Yes, in two days. I have the coordinates. Obi-Wan, Bennie, I need to speak with you about this."

Sitting on the floor to avoid taking up too much space, Qui-Gon was immediately used as a chair by three of the children. Bennie sat near him and pulled two more into her lap. "Obi-Wan, although I don't like it, I think we'll have to split up for this. Things are too volatile here for both of us to leave for three or four days."

"I agree, Master," Obi-Wan said quietly, rocking the little girl that snuggled in his arms, her thumb firmly in her mouth. "But I don't like it either. I have a terrible prescience over the next few days."

"I feel it also, Padawan," Qui-Gon murmured, hugging a little boy to him gently. "But I see no alternatives. And I think there's no question which of us should go."

Obi-Wan nodded, miserable. "You will have the cover of being Bennie's lover that I don't," he agreed. "And I don't think either the Praetor or the Speaker would deal with me very easily."

Bennie had been looking between the two of them. "Master Qui-Gon, you are welcome to stay at the hospice, and Obi-Wan did tell me that the Praetor assumes I am bedding you." She snorted. "As if your relationship isn't obvious to anyone with half an eye!"

Slightly alarmed, Qui-Gon turned to her. "I know that same-sex pairings are illegal here, Bennie; you don't suppose..."

Patting his arm reassuringly, the nurse-midwife chuckled. "Oh, don't worry about it. I could tell... but I doubt any of those addle-pates could." Looking over at Obi-Wan, she continued earnestly, "We'll take good care of him, Obi, I promise. And you take care of yourself as well."

Unhappily staring at his Master, Obi-Wan said, "I know, and I will, Bennie. Could you... I need to leave soon, I think, to avoid the Praetor. Would you let us alone for a while? We'll go into the bridge."

The wide bunk could hold five little ones, and Bennie started seeing to making pallets for the others as Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan forward. Once in the cockpit, he closed the door then drew his Padawan to him, tightly holding the smaller man in his arms. He could feel, through their bond, Obi-Wan's tumultous emotions, which easily matched his own.

"Please be careful, Obi-Wan," he murmured against the silky hair. "This shuttle wasn't designed to hold eleven people, and you'll be all by yourself flying it."

"I'll manage, Master," the younger man's voice was muffled in Qui-Gon's neck. "You be careful too. I don't trust these people."

Qui-Gon pulled back, wanting to say so much and yet not having the words. In his Padawan's eyes, he saw the same thing; all the love, the concern, the trust he himself felt. Instead of trying to articulate it, he merely leaned down and fastened his mouth on Obi-Wan's, kissing the younger man as if his life depended on it, crushing the lithe form against his own.

After a moment, they broke away, breathless. // I love you, Qui-Gon, // Obi-Wan sent tenderly.

Running his thumbs across puffy lips, Qui-Gon answered, // I love you too, my own. Force be with you, Obi-Wan. //

"May the Force be with you too, Master," he murmured in reply.

There was no time to watch lift off. The small convoy of cars hurried back to Bennie's hospice, and it was only through the bond that Qui-Gon knew of a successful launch. Feeling strangely bereft without his Padawan by his side, Qui-Gon checked on Liskat then presented himself to Bennie as a help-meet.

"I'd gladly accept your help, Master Qui-Gon," she said softly, pulling him aside. "Except it would blow your cover. You need to be treated as though you and I were lovers, not friends."

"Isn't it possible to be both, Bennie?" he asked sadly.

She shook her head firmly, her eyes echoing his voice. "No, though I wish it were."

So Qui-Gon had to settle for unobtrusive help, using the Force to assist in major chores and his knowledge as a Jedi Master for smaller tasks. He spent most of his time in the basement with Liskat, sadly watching his friend's condition deteriorate. He and Bennie talked about the viability of the baby, and decided once Obi-Wan was back, she would oversee the operation that would birth the baby girl. "Then you'll be leaving, I expect," she said, somewhat sadly.

"If there were a way to get all of you to safety, I would do it, Bennie," he replied, his large hand covering her small one. "In fact, I was going to suggest that you think about moving your operations somewhere safer."

"Safer, Master Qui-Gon?" she snorted in amusement. "And where would that be? Goddess knows, I've had the same thoughts..."

"Liskat and Dorim had put the shuttle down in an abandoned quarry on the southern continent," he said slowly. "There was no sign of civilization for quite a distance, yet there were abandoned farms and good vegetation. The quarry was riddled with caves, and I think I saw an old solar generator. Would some place like that suit?"

Suddenly stilling, the woman digested this information, her face an interesting mix of hope and fear. "Primitive, I'm used to," she murmured in her harsh voice. "No one around for mims? But how would we get there?"

"Perhaps that man at the port who owes you a favor?"

In an astonishingly short time, Qui-Gon discovered just how many people looked up to Saaben Toth. Within a day, the site was scouted and deemed appropriate, and frequent small shuttles filled with supplies and materials were sent from all around the northern continent to the southern. Qui-Gon worked hard to let these airlifts go unnoticed, getting the government to focus on rooting out the Separatists, who had resumed their suicide bombings in the wake of the Klimman's death.

After a little over two days, Qui-Gon was able to speak to Obi-Wan briefly and determine that the transfer had gone well and the Bos refugees were well on their way. Knights Su and H'rringta had assured him they had contacts in the Bos underground who would find a way to repatriate the eight children and two adults.

It was the fourth day since Obi-Wan had left. He was due back that evening, and they had made plans to airlift the last of Bennie's hospice to the quarry, which was becoming crowded as more refugees heard of the place and sought it out. Qui-Gon sat in yet another numbing meeting with the Speaker and the Praetor, going over sheaves of paper in a fairly useless attempt to discern the stronghold of the Separatists. Every time Qui-Gon tried to turn the subject to the care and feeding of the Chenyar themselves, the two men either ignored him or growled at him to mind his own business.

About to give up for the day and excuse himself, Qui-Gon felt a sudden disturbance in the Force. It was nebulous, and he had to focus hard to bring it forward, blocking out the droning noise of the men around him. As the door flew open to admit a terrified communications tech, he realized what it was.

"Praetor! Incoming! Dessant is under attack!"

"WHAT?" the big man bellowed, even as a distant 'whump' was felt as much as heard. The building shook and plaster drifted serenely down from the ceiling. Another building-rattling concussion and the holo-screen cracked. The big anti-aircraft guns roared to life suddenly, adding to the cacophony. The Speaker screeched.

"We have to get OUT of here... we have to get OUT of here..." he squealed over and over, leaping up and fighting with his attendants for the door.

"SIDDOWN, you ball-less pacca!" the Praetor yelled. "This room is safer than out there!"

But chaos and panic will out. Qui-Gon withdrew into a corner of the room and watched as the Speaker and all of the technicians, sycophants and secretaries fought for the honor of escaping into the unknown of the corridor. More explosions sounded, and he allowed himself a small moment of worry for Bennie's hospice and Liskat, but released it into the Force. There was no sense in allowing his fear for them to cripple his own escape.

Across the room, the Praetor sat still, chomping ferociously on his root. As the room emptied, he focused on the big Jedi across from him, and his eyes narrowed.

"This is all your fault, Jedi," he growled, his curiously light tenor keeping the tone from being effectively vicious. "You and your damn interfering ways, you damned off-worlders, thinking you are so much better than us..."

Reading the man's aura, Qui-Gon could see the abject terror and total incoherence behind his words. More explosions, closer now, and screams from the hallway as the groaning of support beams was heard. The Praetor was shaking now, his eyes completely subsumed by hatred, fear and bloodlust. "All your fault!" He was shouting, and he stood up to point a shaking finger at Qui-Gon. "Interfering, bleeding-heart, gutless wonders! I should have done this weeks ago!"

His hand dropped to his holster and time slowed down. Qui-Gon could tell, quite well, where this path would lead, and in the infinitesimal instant as he watched Samnud draw his blaster, he centered himself in the Force and released his guilt over his coming actions. His lightsaber was in his hand before the blaster had cleared the holster, and when the Praetor shot, the bolt was directed back, unerringly and unhesitatingly, through his heart.

Time sped up again, and Qui-Gon walked across the room to look down at the man who had caused his world so much trouble. Samnud stared up at him with sightless, mad eyes; Qui-Gon shook his head regretfully then made his careful way out of the room to the corridor.

Using the Force carefully, he determined that his best course of action would be to try to leave by going deeper into the government building before exiting. There were more explosions, some distant and some quite close. He could feel that deeper portions of the building had somewhat collapsed, and that more of it was on the way towards collapsing. Running with Force enhanced speed, he allowed the Force to direct him along the safest path, trying to live in the moment and not dwell on thoughts of those he cared for. It was obvious from the sound that most of the city was taking mortar hits and he knew he had to get out of the government building as soon as he could.

A pause, another mortar round, this one very close, and parts of the ceiling behind him collapsed. He veered into an ornate section of the building he had never been in and skirted a large section of collapsed wall. A high-pitched keening drew his attention downwards... Speaker Decarr, his hands still tightly wrapped around a heavy case, lay partially buried under a metal girder that had apparently fallen from the ceiling. Almost against his will, Qui-Gon knelt and examined the man's predicament, but when he tried to move the case the man was clutching tightly to his chest, Decarr seemed to focus on him partially enough to scream. "NO! Leave it be! MINE, do you hear me!" Then he coughed, spitting bloody foam.

A quick glance showed it was completely hopeless... the man's lower body was crushed completely. How he was still alive in the first place was a wonder to Qui-Gon. The Jedi squatted at the Speaker's side for a moment, trying to release his inappropriate satisfaction over the man's death to the Force. Seeming to focus briefly on Qui-Gon, the Speaker weakly demanded, "Well? Get me out of here, Jedi!" He was weakening by the second, but still imperious. Qui-Gon just shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Decarr, but you are already dead." Shaking his head sadly, Qui-Gon looked at the figure on the floor before him. "I can ease your pain..." Drawing his lightsaber again, Qui-Gon ignited it before the dying man, meaning to relieve his suffering. But the Speaker was a coward, and would die denying his own death with his last gasp.

"No!" he weakly screamed, cowering back. "Don't kill me, please... don't kill me..."

"You are already dead, Speaker," Qui-Gon reiterated, keying his 'saber off and hanging it back on his belt. "The entire lower half of your body is crushed. I can give you surcease; it is all I can do for you." Since it was obvious the man would not allow him to help, Qui-Gon stood.

"Don't leave me... Master Jinn, please," gasped Decarr as he realized that was Qui-Gon's intention. "Please, no... help me..."

Steeling his emotions and opening himself to the Force once more, Qui-Gon ignored the weakening pleas behind him and carefully made his way out of the building.

Outside was a waking nightmare. The shelling had struck all over, and mortars were continuing to fall. People were screaming, buildings were on fire and toppling, smoke was so thick in places it was difficult to see or breathe. Qui-Gon once again moved with Force enhanced speed to get to the hospice as quickly as he could, sighing with relief when he found it mostly whole. He found organized chaos inside, as Bennie and the few remaining women hurriedly packed up the last of their gear preparatory to leaving. Another concussion from across town made them all jump.

Bennie greeted Qui-Gon with obvious relief, throwing her hands around the big Jedi's neck. "Oh Goddess bless, I'm so glad to see you Master Qui-Gon," she said breathlessly. "We were afraid..."

"I'm all right, Bennie," he reassured her. "What can I do to help?"

"We have three trucks in the courtyard and a transport waiting half a mim outside of town," she explained breathlessly, shoving linens into a trunk. "If you could help clear out the pantry, that would be a blessing. Then we'll see to Liskat and..."

An explosion, quite near, caused the entire building to rock alarmingly, and not a few women to scream. "I'll go to the pantry. You need to get those trucks out of town immediately."

The next half hour passed in a blur as Qui-Gon threw items into trunks and boxes and loaded the trucks as fast as possible. Emya Decarr was in the kitchen, to his surprise, her hair pulled back and her clothes damp with sweat. She took the news of her brother's death with equanimity, only pausing to say, "Goddess take him. I hope he's happier where he is now, but somehow I doubt it."

Two trucks were loaded and gone. Qui-Gon was alone with Bennie and Emya, everyone else having gone. The shelling had continued, sometimes slowing so that they hoped it would be over, but never completely ending. Although several hits were close, they were lucky that none had done significant damage to their building.

JM-30, the med droid, had Liskat prepped for surgery, and Bennie pressed Qui-Gon and Emya into service as scrub nurses. The power was wildly fluctuating and frequent concussions made the room groan, but the three of them tried to ignore it in the face of the new life that needed to be born. Qui-Gon took up station at Liskat's head, monitoring both her vitals and her mental state, while Bennie immediately started the incision. A comm-link chime made the two women jump.

"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice was frantic. "Master, I'm picking up signs of shelling! What's happening?"

"Dessant is under attack, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, nodding to Bennie to continue. "I'm at the hospice, we're just now beginning to..." A particularly close concussion and the power went. After a moment, it returned, but weaker.

"MASTER?"

"I'm all right, Obi-Wan. Bennie is just now beginning the operation. We'll have the baby born shortly." Qui-Gon watched as Bennie made the cut, using an unpowered scalpel in the face of the fluctuating power. He knew it would take longer that way, as the incisions would not be sealed, but appreciated her care.

"I'll be landing in ten minutes."

"NO, you won't, Padawan, and that's a direct order." Qui-Gon used his most Stern Master Voice in impressing this upon Obi-Wan. "Once the baby is born, we're going to get into a ground transport and drive to a rendezvous point outside of town. There's a transport that should be taking off shortly from that area..."

"I see it, Master. They are taking off now, flying low. I wondered about that..." Obi-Wan's voice was still nervous, but calmer in the face of his Master's calm.

"Good. Meet us there. No more transmissions, Obi-Wan. It's too dangerous."

"Yes, Master." Clearly unhappy, Obi-Wan cut the communication.

Bennie was nearly at the womb and moving slowly. Qui-Gon checked Liskat's vitals - holding but weak - then dropped gently into her mind just as another shell burst somewhere in town.

// Liskat? // A dark, dismal plain met his internal eye. A lump before him resolved itself into Liskat. She was naked, sitting on the ground, her arms around her legs and slowly rocking back and forth. He squatted before her but she didn't look up.

// Liskat, love, the baby is nearly here. It's almost time, love. //

Finally, she looked up at him. Her eyes were empty brown pools in her white face. // Qui? Cold. So cold. // She hugged herself more tightly. // Where's Dorim? //

// Here, Lishka-love. // Dorim's blue ghost strode out of the darkness and held his hands out to her, helping her to stand.

With part of his mind, Qui-Gon could tell that Bennie had reached the womb and was carefully opening it, then pulling the baby through the incision as Emya helped. A gasp and a wailing cry met both his real and mental ears, and echoed like music through the gray, dreary dream-scape that was all that was left of Liskat's mind.

Dorim pulled his bondmate into his arms and held her tightly. // She's got good lungs, // Qui-Gon said to them, smiling through his tears.

// Takes after her mother, // Dorim said, looking down at Liskat. // Are you ready, Lishka-love? //

As the pair began fading out, Qui-Gon gently withdrew from the dying woman's mind. Bennie had cut the cord, and Emya was swabbing the baby gently, crooning to her. The monitors attached to Liskat suddenly went crazy as the woman flatlined, and Bennie looked up in startlement.

"It's all right," Qui-Gon said, forestalling her movement to the crash cart. "She's aware the baby is here. Dorim came for her. She's one with the Force now."

A gentle finger, still damp with blood, reached out to his face, brushing at the tears there. "Her husband...?"

Emya gasped and drew their attention back down to the medical bed. Liskat's body had vanished, gone into the Force.

"She's joined her bondmate," Qui-Gon confirmed, oblivious to his tears. "We have the baby to look after now."

Another explosion, this one closer than the last, brought home to them the precariousness of their situation. Bennie and Emya wrapped up the baby tightly while Qui-Gon deactivated the med droid and lifted the last of the equipment upstairs and out to the waiting truck.

It was a harrowing trip. All four of them crowded into the cab of the truck and Qui-Gon acted as navigator, relying on the Force to tell him which way to go. Bennie sat in the middle, holding tight to Sionnach and trying not to look as they passed smoking wrecks of buildings and people.

At last they reached the rendezvous point to find a nervous Obi-Wan patrolling the area with Force and lightsaber. He was only able to hug Qui-Gon briefly before helping to unload the truck and getting the gear on board. Then they abandoned the vehicle and Obi-Wan lifted, flying as fast and as low as he dared towards the southern continent.

Qui-Gon came forward after a few minutes to help. As he settled himself in the co-pilot's chair, his Padawan looked over at him. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm fine. It's been a long day."

"I can imagine. When did this start?"

Qui-Gon snorted with something like amusement. "I think it's only been about four hours, but I can't honestly tell you." After a few moments, he continued. "The Speaker and the Praetor are both dead. Most of Dessant is destroyed."

"The baby?"

"She's fine. You'll be meeting her shortly." He looked over at Obi-Wan and decided that scenery was much better than what was outside the shuttle so he kept looking. "Liskat is one with the Force now."

"I know," Obi-Wan said quietly. "I felt her passage. Was... was Dorim there?"

"Yes. He came for her as the baby was born. Then she Dissipated." He reached his hand out and found it warmly clasped by his Padawan, tightly, as if to never let go.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, each vastly relieved to be in the other's presence again. "I think at the end of this mission, I'll have to meditate for a solid month."

Qui-Gon smiled at his apprentice. "I think the end of this mission is closer that you think."

Before Obi-Wan could respond to that comment, Bennie appeared, bearing a snuffling bundle. "Obi, I thought you'd like to meet your new friend now," she said, sadly smiling.

Qui-Gon took over the controls as Obi-Wan turned his seat. "I've not had a lot of experience with babies, you know..." he said hesitantly, gingerly extending his arms.

"Hold her head; there you go. Now, she won't break. Hold her tightly." With an expansive yawn, the baby opened her eyes and regarded Obi-Wan seriously. Changeable gray-green eyes met golden ones, and Obi-Wan felt a shock of some sort of recognition go through him.

"Hello, Sionnach," he whispered, as Qui-Gon looked on tenderly and Bennie sniffed back tears. "Welcome to life, beautiful."

They didn't spend much time at the site. After off loading the last of the equipment, they stayed long enough to see it installed before pulling out. They didn't want to give anyone a target to shoot at, and, after the destruction of Dessant, Qui-Gon decided there was nothing worth them staying on Chenya for anyway.

With that in mind, Obi-Wan cannibalized part of the shuttle's systems in order to provide the refugee colony with a power source and some scanning ability. The quarry was riddled with caves, there was fresh water nearby, and the southern continent was in the middle of its spring season, so food would be plentiful. There was nothing else the Jedi could do to help make the area self-sufficient aside from arming them for their protection, and Bennie would not have accepted any weapons anyway.

Goodbyes were tearful and heartfelt. Just over a day after Sionnach's birth, they were finally in hyperspace, heading home to Coruscant. The baby was set up in a makeshift bassinet they could wheel about the shuttle and lock into place wherever they were, and they had laid in plenty of self-heating nursing packs and diapers for the trip back.

Once safely away from the nebula, the first thing Obi-Wan did after setting the auto-pilot was get Qui-Gon in the shower, where trauma and tears could be washed away - by sonics, unfortunately, but it was better than nothing. Then, still naked, he tumbled the older man to the bed and proceeded to love him senseless, kissing, nipping, sucking until Qui-Gon was quite reduced to a puddle of boneless mush.

At one point, Qui-Gon dragged his Padawan's mouth away from his penis so that he could kiss the man and ask him, "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" His voice was rather breathless from the intense assault on his senses.

"I am now," was his heartfelt answer. "I have never realized how much you mean to me as I did in that last hour, Master, before I met up with you." Eyes met, as did minds and hands, then Qui-Gon freed one of his hands to stroke Obi-Wan's cheek.

"It's over now, Obi-Wan," he said softly. "And we're here. Live in the moment, Padawan. Remember, there is no death..."

"That has been brought home to me most strongly on this mission, Master," Obi-Wan said, leaning into the caress as he settled himself more firmly on top of Qui-Gon. "And I will live in the moment, as if each moment could be our last. And in this moment..."

"In this moment," Qui-Gon interrupted gently, "we will love." He spread his legs, allowing his Padawan to settle between them. "Love me, Obi-Wan, my own. Love me."

It was hours later. They were calmer, sated, sweaty, and lying tangled together on the bed when a thin snuffling wail brought their attention to the bassinet. Disentangling himself from his Padawan, Qui-Gon rose and went to attend their small passenger. Obi-Wan listened from his nest of Qui-Gon scented sheets and smiled to hear his Master croon nonsense at the baby. Finally, the older man returned to the bed, bringing the diaper-clad baby with him.

"She's not hungry, she's not wet," the big man said with a smile, as he carefully laid himself back down on the bed, Sionnach still in his arms. "I think she just misses us."

He placed the tiny baby on her stomach on his expansive chest, where she promptly fell asleep, her adorable roseate mouth opening and closing reflexively. Obi-Wan arranged himself next to Qui-Gon, resting his head on one broad shoulder, as he studied her. She was very red from a newborn rash that was just beginning to fade; the patches of skin that were not red were pale as the finest porcelain. A few little wisps of orangy-red hair were on her head, a harbinger of what would probably be intense, beautiful fiery red hair when she was older. She smelled good, as babies do everywhere...formula and baby powder and the sweet, overpowering aroma of unconditional love.

Her tiny head was lying on top of Qui-Gon's heart, and Obi-Wan knew from experience that was a comfortable place to be. Many a time had he fallen asleep to that muted thudding, so he wasn't surprised that Sionnach could do the same. Gently he reached a finger to her delicate little hand, and she grasped it in her sleep, a remarkably strong grip for one so young. "She's going to be glorious," Obi-Wan said quietly, smiling.

"Yes, she is," Qui-Gon agreed, rubbing Sionnach's back tenderly. "She's already very Force sensitive, probably from both her conception and her unusual birth. I'm sure she'll be giving the matrons in the creche fits before too long."

"With that hair, I'm certain you're right," Obi-Wan chuckled. Sionnach snuffled in her sleep, nuzzling more firmly into Qui-Gon's chest. A touch of the Force brought the blanket up over them, up to the baby's back, though it wasn't strictly necessary in the warmth of the shuttle. Gently, so as not to disturb her, Obi-Wan leaned over the little redhead and kissed Qui-Gon, then laid his head back on the broad shoulder, Qui-Gon's arm coming around him to hold him tight. Peaceful at last, the three drifted off to sleep, never seeing the two dim blue figures that hovered briefly at their bedside.

Any censure - over their precipitous departure - Qui-Gon might have expected from the Council never materialized. Shortly before they landed on Coruscant, Suuva erupted very much the way Chenya had, followed closely by Bos. Nere closed its 'borders' and ordered all off-worlders gone immediately. After the Knight pair assigned to Suuva nearly got themselves killed trying to mediate a cease-fire, the Council threw up its collective hands and recalled all Jedi from the nebula. When the Senate complained, the Council basically told them to go take a hike, much to the amusement and relief of the Jedi assigned there.

All this they learned shortly after their arrival, from Mace and Yoda who met them at the landing pad and escorted them to their quarters. Mace turned out to have quite a maternal streak in him, and spent hours with Sionnach as they discussed the mission; feeding her, changing her, even greeting getting spit up on with patience and humor. The two councilors informed Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan that a formal report before the Council would be unnecessary, and that their primary responsibility at present lay across Mace's lap, holding tightly to his pinkie finger while she sucked down a nursing pack. She would have to spend time with the healers, then eventually be turned over to the matrons in the creche. But for the time being, she would stay with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, the closest thing to family she had.

Talking about the mission in such a comfortable setting with friends acting as friends - rather than council members - proved cathartic. Yoda sat enveloped in Qui-Gon's big armchair while Mace rocked Sionnach in the rocking chair that had mysteriously appeared inn the quarters during the Jed's absence, and the two of them simply listened as the two men talked. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan clung to each other as they told of the horrors they had seen, described the despair they had felt at not being able to resolve the situation, wept at the thought of those they were unable to help.

When Qui-Gon informed them that Dorim's remains were in the hold of their shuttle, they grew even quieter. "Memorial we will have, for both of them," Yoda said sadly, his ears drooping. "Two days from now, yes? Naming of baby then too, I think. Good to replace sad memory with good one."

"This whole mission was a disaster from start to finish," Mace said quietly but vehemently. "And I want you two to be certain you realize, it was not your fault. You did more than anyone could have been expected to do. We' ve informed the Senate of the refugee base you helped set up, and once troops are dispatched - which I've no doubt will happen, eventually - they will seek out this nurse-midwife and offer her and her people sanctuary in the Republic."

"Thank you, Mace," Qui-Gon said quietly, his arm still wrapped firmly around his Padawan's shoulders. There was nothing else he could say.

It went, then, as Yoda had decreed. Dorim's body was burned with the proper reverence the next evening, and a memorial service for him and his bondmate was held in the Formal Garden the day after, at noon. Yoda presided, calling all present (and there were many; Dorim and M'Liskatha were both well liked and respected Knights who would be missed) to take a moment of silence and remember, there was no death, there was the Force. Then he turned to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, who sat near him on a bench, a slumbering Sionnach in Qui-Gon's arms.

"Come we now to honor their legacy," Yoda said, his ears perking slightly. "Comes now before us a young one, child of their flesh, child of their love, child of the Force. Endured much she has to be here, and with gladness do we greet her. Honor her we do, with love. Honor her, we do, with happiness. Honor her, we do, with a name?"

The last was spoken to Qui-Gon, who stood and presented the baby he held in his arms to all gathered. "My friends, it gives me joy to present Sionnach apVess-Norill. A more beautiful baby has never graced the Temple, I'm sure." The assembled guests all chuckled, then one by one made their way past the bench to extend their greetings to the newest member of the Jedi Temple.

As their friends and fellow Jedi walked past, Obi-Wan sat back and enjoyed the sunshine, the birdsong, the warmly scented breezes against his face, and the intense presence of his lover and Master sitting next to him. The horrific mission behind them, nothing but relaxation before them, he finally re-found his center and poured the last of his anguish into the Force. // Dorim, Liskat, wherever you are, // he thought quietly, // know that Sionnach is loved and cared for, and will be until the end of her days. // A whisper of a breeze against his closed eyelids, much like a kiss, made him smile.

About that time, the baby woke and began to fuss. Coming prepared, Obi-Wan cracked open a nursing pack and took her from Qui-Gon. She took the warm formula eagerly, as usual staring up at him with the intent focus that made Obi-Wan laugh. Mace Windu approached them then, the last in a long line of well-wishers, simply standing and letting their peace wash over him. He had been worried that the mission would hurt them deeper than it had; but now he realized that the mere presence of Sionnach in their lives had done more to alleviate the stress and horror than any meditation could have.

Finally Qui-Gon looked up at him and chuckled. "You have that 'I really hate to interrupt but' feel about you, old friend," he said, tickling Sionnach's feet and making her gurgle.

Smiling ruefully, the councilor admitted as much. "I guess I do at that, don't I? I need to discuss something with you two... unfortunately work related. It's a mission... but it's not a bad mission, really... nothing nearly as harrowing as what you just returned from."

"Well, out with it then," Qui-Gon said, still in an expansive, forgiving mood; leftover contentment from basking in the glow of love and support of his Jedi family. "I hope it's not a long thing..."

"Oh, no," Mace said hurriedly, squatting at Obi-Wan's feet and touching Sionnach's soft cheek with one blunt finger. "Actually, it should be a fairly quick one, and the only reason I bring it up is that Chancellor Valorum specifically asked for you, Qui. It seems that absurd Trade Federation has set up a blockade around this little planet called Naboo..."

end

Feedback is always joyfully received, even if you only wanna tell me I'm a Sith. thamill@mgfairfax.rr.com