Haunting Me

by Nicole D'Annais

Copyright 1999

Homepage: http://adult.dencity.com/ndannais

Paring: Q/O

Rating: NC-17ish

Category: Angst, drama, A/U,

Archive: Master and Apprentice--anyone else ask please

Summary: Obi-Wan's problems after Naboo lead to some startling discoveries.

Comments: Thanks to the wonderful folks who put up with getting this in pieces over the last few months. I don't know what I'd do without you ladies. By the way, Becky, the line-by-line editing / proofing / cheerleading / character-arguing goddess, you rock!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, much less these fine characters--although I own a couple of action figures of them, does that count? Probably not. Oh well, I refuse to make any money off them, and crave feedback as much as Obi-Wan craves Qui-Gon and vice versa.

I flipped onto my side for the tenth time in as many minutes. No matter what angle I chose to look at the darkness around me, it didn't help. I tried pounding my pillow, but it didn't relieve the tension that was keeping me awake.

No, it wasn't the tension keeping me awake. It was the memory. The last night before Naboo. We'd spent days arguing, barely speaking, then arguing again. But with the planet fast approaching, and with it the possibility of war, I had decided to try one more time.

It had gotten very late by the time I went to Qui-Gon's quarters. Most of the others on board were asleep, so I met no one in the hall as I stood at the door, hesitating. Finally, the door opened. "Are you going to stand there all night, or did you plan to come in?"

I let that pass; I refused to give in to anger. I was there to make peace. So I entered the room and began my well-rehearsed speech. "Master, I don't wish to argue with you...."

"Then don't." As if it were that simple. He was convinced of the path, so I mustn't question it. Never mind that when it came to seeing the bigger picture, we both knew I was much stronger than he.

"Is it my fault my Master taught me to think for myself? To question others when I believe it's necessary, no matter who they might be?"

One corner of his mouth turned upward; a good sign. "Remind me to give your Master a sound lecture on that."

"As long as you do it in private so no one sees you talking to yourself."

"Obi-Wan...." He sighed, then reached for me and pulled me into his arms. "I've no wish to hurt you."

"Then don't." My voice was muffled by his shoulder, but he heard me.

He loosened his hold, allowing him to look down into my eyes. "Anakin must be trained. I don't know how else to say it."

"He's dangerous. I know it."

"Dangerous or no, to leave him untrained is even worse, especially now."

"But--" My words were cut off with a kiss, not an entirely unwelcome interruption. We had been headed for another fight, and with all that was to come, fighting was not high on my list of preferred activities for the evening.

After a long moment, my master pulled back. "Do you really want to fight?" I shook my head, and he lowered his lips to mine again.

I can't explain what it was like, making love with Qui-Gon. I could try to compare it to other events, but I don't think the description would ever come close to explaining the way it felt. If you took the day I came to the Temple, the day he asked me to be his Padawan, and each day I received a new tie for my braid, and rolled them all into one, it still wouldn't match the feeling. It was like being in the eye of a tornado, warm and calm, but with a frenzied storm caressing my skin to a feverish state, whipping around both of us, but never able to destroy us completely. Nothing could destroy us, not as long as we were together.

Afterwards, we lay there in silence for several minutes, holding each other. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I wasn't willing to start the conversation. I sensed it wouldn't be a good one.

"Obi-Wan..." he said finally, kissing my forehead, "I need you to do a favor for me."

"Yes, Master?"

"The boy must be trained."

I tensed and reached for my clothing, hurt that he chose to continue the discussion now, angry that he continued it at all. "That's your opinion."

"That's the truth."

"From your point of view," I said as I yanked on my pants. "That's how you categorized my feelings about the boy's future; why should your feelings about his present be any different?"

"You don't have the connection to the living Force that I do."

I turned to face him, boots in hand. "And you don't have the connection to the future that I do," I snapped. "I may be a mere Padawan, not anywhere near the level of a great Jedi Master, but maybe, just maybe, once in a while, I could be right. Think about that," I added before I whirled away and left the room, ignoring his voice as he called after me.

I spent the rest of the night in my quarters, shields as tight as I could get them, refusing to reach out to the Force even a little, lest he try to contact me. He didn't go so far as to come to my room, but then if he'd tried other methods to reach me, he would have known right away I had no desire to speak to him.

If I'd only known....

At least I had the sense to apologize the next day. Our conversation in the swamps of Naboo has been a slight comfort every day since then. If he had died without that, I'm not sure I could have stood it. Some days I barely could as it was.

Still, that last night haunted me. But lying awake, thinking about it, was better than sleep. In sleep, the one memory I would just as soon forget couldn't be kept at bay. The memory of the Sith's saber slicing through Qui-Gon's body, of my own attempts at healing him until I passed out from the strain.

And of waking up in a med bay. Alone. With my Master's presence nowhere to be found.

So I tossed and turned. I agonized over decisions I couldn't change. And I waited for the nightmare to end.

When I finally gave up on sleep, meditation cleared my mind enough for me to practice a few katas without losing concentration. I'd found over the previous year that it was possible to exist on very little sleep, if all you're doing is just existing. It doesn't take much energy to follow rules, follow a code, and let your training guide you. Automatic pilot is easy.

Even if you're training a padawan. I suppose Anakin deserved better than a master on automatic pilot, but I couldn't help it. He was a quick learner, and I'd drilled him well, so he was finally as skilled as the other students his age in many areas. But even I could tell that the fatherly warmth the boy wanted wasn't there. I didn't have it to give.

I realized how late it had gotten and went to wake Anakin, only to find him already in the process of making his bed. "Good morning, Master."

"Good morning, Padawan. Are you ready for the test?"

"I'm not sure. What exactly is this test?" I shrugged, which only increased his frown. "Didn't you have to go through a test at one year?"

I didn't answer directly. I knew he already felt out of place at the Temple; to find out he was one of the few to undergo a full-Council evaluation after one year as an apprentice would have done more harm than good. "The Council will decide how best to test you. I know little more than you do at this point."

If he suspected anything out of the ordinary, he didn't let on. He simply followed me out of our quarters and through the hallways until we reached the Council chambers. We waited silently for several minutes until Anakin was called into the room. "Aren't you coming?" he asked me.

"I'm to wait here."

He paused for a heartbeat, then squared his shoulders and walked into the room. As the door closed, I allowed myself a small smile. It was his way of dealing with situations that scared him. And I knew the Council would see right through it.

The test didn't take long. When I joined them in the chambers I was informed only that he had performed well, and that I was doing an admirable job. Of course, coming from the Council that was high praise.

I assumed we would be dismissed after that, but I was wrong. "How feel you, Obi-Wan?"

While I might have tried telling some of the others I was just fine, I learned at a very young age that one does not lie to Master Yoda. He will make you regret it, no matter how old you are. "I am tired, Master, but well."

His eyes narrowed to thin slits in his round face. "Not so well, I think. Rest you could use, yes?"

Before I could answer, Master Mace spoke up. "Obi-Wan, I think young Anakin would benefit from spending some time with a council member. I would like to train with him today."

I nodded my approval, even though he didn't actually need it. "Anakin, I'll meet you in the dining hall at the dinner hour?" My apprentice nodded, and I left, wandering the halls until I ended up back at my room by habit.

Out of respect for Master Yoda's opinion, I took off my robe and lay down on the bed. But sleep did not come; as I knew it wouldn't. I couldn't sleep on a normal day, so why would I be able to sleep today? That the Council recognized this did not surprise me. That they went out of their way to try to make it easier did. It was not the Jedi way to dwell on such things.

Not that I cared. I should have felt embarrassed, at the least, that they needed to take care of my apprentice for a day because I was unable. I should have felt gratitude at the kindness. I should have felt something.

But I didn't. I hadn't really felt anything in a long time. Not for one year to the day. Not since I woke up alone in a med bay on Naboo.

From that moment on, I'd felt practically nothing.

Sleep never came, but the dinner hour did. I rose, attempted to at least make myself appear more rested, and headed off to the dining hall. Anakin was waiting for me at the door with Master Mace, who thanked me for my padawan's company and left. Anakin and I sat down to eat, and I listened dutifully while he told me what he'd learned, filing the information away in the back of my mind without really processing it.

"Master...."

The hesitation in Anakin's tone caught my attention, and I made myself focus. "Yes, Padawan?"

"I was wondering...do you know what today is?"

I froze. I hadn't expected the question, and I didn't want to talk about it. But he was my student. My responsibility. "Yes, Anakin, I do."

He shrugged, barely able to meet my eyes. "I wasn't sure if...if we should do something?"

I hadn't felt anything. But now I felt a pain in my chest, like a fissure ripping my heart. Anakin had known Qui-Gon for a very short time, and yet he wanted to remember. I had known him half my life, and all I wanted was to forget.

But then Anakin had only lost a friend and a possible mentor. I felt like I had lost the rest of my life.

It seemed to be a hard decision. I could put him off and say the Jedi didn't do special remembrances for their dead. It was true enough--we did not honor them with special ceremonies, for they were one with the Force. They were supposed to be all around us, although I'd found no proof of that.

Or I could help him remember his friend. My master. My love.

The crack in my heart grew, but along with the pain came the remembrance of the pleasure. The happiness.

The decision wasn't so hard after all.

"Come on, Ani, let's go."

We went back to our quarters, where I searched the closet for a trunk I had packed away upon returning from Naboo and not looked at since. In the bottom I found candles that had me fighting back tears. They were just pieces of wax with string through the middle. And yet the sight and smell of them brought back memories so strong I wasn't sure I could handle it.

I fought the emotion, tempering it until it became manageable. I was almost surprised I could do that after a year of not allowing myself to feel anything. I put the candles on a low table in our living area and reached for a match.

On one of my visits to my family as a child, someone in the community had died. I have no recollection of who it was, but I remember the ceremony we attended very clearly.

The town leader lit several candles, and spoke about the deceased townsman with great admiration. Several other town members rose to share their memories, and while there was more than one person crying by the time it was through, everyone seemed so much happier at the same time.

Later that night, before bed, I asked my mother why it made them so happy to cry. She told me it was their way of letting the person go and still holding onto the memories. That the tears washed away the pain and left the good things behind.

It was an explanation for a child. But as in all children's tales, there was an element of truth to it. I hoped that the ceremony, or at least our version of it, would wash away some of the pain. Having the memories back instead of locked away would be worth it.

"Good, good, Anakin. Now let the saber hang looser when you go to the side. No, that's too tight. You need to be loose. Get too tight and you'll--"

"Ow!" Anakin shut off his lightsaber and let out a few Huttese curses that were unbecoming of a Padawan his age.

I moved in to examine the damage. "Ouch. It's not that bad, but I think the healers should have a look."

One of the senior healers looked at the wound briefly before pronouncing it to be rather minor and shuffling us off to an apprentice healer. Anakin rolled his eyes at me in silent commentary on the healer's attitude, a display I chose to ignore for now, despite the disrespect it showed. Humor was a good way to combat pain if you had no other methods. The reminder not to do it again could wait.

"Somehow I knew I'd see you in here one day."

I looked up, frowning until I recognized the woman. "Dara! How have you been?"

"Good. It's good to see you. How long has it been?"

"About thirteen years, I would guess. I haven't seen you since before I became a Padawan."

"And now here you are, a Knight."

"And you a healer. Quite a surprise."

Dara shrugged. "Apprentice healer at the moment. I've just finished training in the Outer Rim, and I hope to be made a full healer soon."

"Good for you." I turned back to my apprentice. "Anakin, this is Dara Stahn. Dara, this is my Padawan, Anakin Skywalker. We were training and his arm had an unfortunate run-in with a lightsaber."

"Let me take a look." She kneeled down to examine his burn, then went to work on it, healing it quickly. "All set," she told him as she stood. "Ready to go take on that lightsaber again, I bet?"

Anakin nodded, but I thought better of trying that particular exercise again today, given his fatigue. The two of us had stayed up late after our impromptu ceremony to honor Qui-Gon. We'd talked about him at first, then everything but him as we both locked our memories behind a cage, somewhere we could still see them, but they couldn't do much damage. Then we both went off to try to sleep.

Sleep had still been elusive, and I realized it showed when Dara stopped me before we could leave. "Anakin, give this to the lady over there," she said as she handed him a datapad. He gave her a sharp look, then on my nod, did as he was told.

"Obi-Wan...I heard about what happened...with Qui-Gon. I'm sorry."

My shields slammed up automatically. "Thanks." Even to my own ears I sounded cold.

"Look, it's been a year. You're exhausted, and from what I hear, you're barely functional these days."

Did they suddenly have a bulletin board posted somewhere with my daily health status? "You've been busy since you got back if you've gathered all that information about me. One might wonder where you've found the time to heal people."

"Healing is what I'm trying to do. Or help with, at any rate. You can't go on like this. You're killing yourself. And you'll be no good to the boy if you're dead."

I could have told her I'd finally realized I had to deal with this last night. I could have told her Anakin seemed to be doing fine the way things were. I could have told her a lot of things. But the information was none of her business. "Thank you for your advice," was all I said, and this time the coldness in my tone was intentional.

She sighed, and before she could start in again, I called to Anakin and ushered him out of the room, bidding her a polite, reserved goodbye on my way out the door.

Dara's 'advice' had left me with excess energy, anger I hadn't quite managed to channel into the Force, but hadn't wanted to take out on her. She was trying to help; it wasn't her fault I refused her assistance. "Anakin, how would you like to sit and watch an exercise instead of doing one?"

"All right!" he said as we both picked up our pace on the way to the training room. Once we were there, I made sure he was seated at a safe distance and performed one of the most difficult katas I knew. It required intense concentration and focus, and a great amount of energy.

By the time I was finished, I was exhausted. Anakin was suitably impressed, and didn't argue when I suggested we call it a day. We ate in our quarters. I managed to stay awake on the couch until my apprentice went to bed. Only then was I able to drag myself over to my own room and fall into the bed, allowing sleep to claim me immediately.

Over the next week I used physical exhaustion as a way to force myself to sleep. It only worked until the dreams began, and then I would be awake again. But at least it allowed me a couple of hours of sleep. That was something.

It was a relief when Anakin and I were sent on a mission to Jurla, a planet that had recently been devastated by a storm. Rain, combined with fatal winds, had managed to destroy homes in various areas all over the planet. Thousands had been killed, and many of those still alive were without homes and had limited food and supplies.

I was hoping the distraction of a mission would help me. I wanted to move on. I needed to move on. Unfortunately, part of me refused to do so. As soon as we boarded the ship, however, I had the feeling distraction would not be allowed.

"Obi-Wan! Good to see you again."

"Dara." I managed to smile, or at least give some facsimile of a smile. "I didn't know you would be on this mission."

"We received the orders this morning, same as you I would imagine."

"We?"

"Me, my Master, and two other Master Healers."

I nodded. "Who else is on board?"

"Olak, Master Hurn, and Ka'ar Rall."

"Ka'ar's master isn't coming along?"

"He passed his trials days ago, didn't you hear?"

"I must have missed it."

Her face grew serious. "I'm not surprised, the way you've been wandering around in a daze."

I turned to Anakin, intent on getting him out of here before I said anything else. "Please take our things to our room." I waited until he was gone before I turned back to Dara. "Have I suddenly become your personal project?"

"Look, Obi-Wan, I'm just trying to help."

"Save your help for the people on Jurla. They need it. I do not." I left quickly before she could start in on me again. I was beating myself up just fine; I didn't need any assistance.

The mission went well, and distracted me, but not as much as I'd hoped. Especially not with Dara around, giving me those looks, trying to make me deal with my feelings. I knew I had to deal with them. And I would. After the mission.

Eventually there was little more we could do, so we left. I couldn't wait to get back to Coruscant, where I could put plenty of distance between me and my new external conscience. Anakin was excited about having been on a successful mission, and didn't seem to notice the tension whenever Dara was around, for which I was grateful. Her presence was annoying enough; if I'd had to endure questions about her when she wasn't around it would have been too much.

We were only one day from Coruscant when disaster struck. An engine malfunction that led to an extremely rough emergency landing. I cursed my luck--at this rate, I'd never be rid of Dara.

That thought in mind, Anakin and I went straight to Ka'ar, who'd been piloting the ship, and offered our help with repairs. We were working on the hull the next morning when Dara approached.

"Think we'll get going soon?"

"If we're able to work without distraction," I replied, keeping my attention on my work.

Anakin had been searching through our tools, but now he turned to me. "We're missing the wrench I need. I'll see if Ka'ar has one."

I nodded reluctantly, unwilling to have my one buffer from Dara's questions disappear. But we had to repair the ship. As soon as Anakin was out of sight, Dara started. "You look horrible."

"Thank you. Hard work has a way of making one dirty."

"No, I mean tired. Exhausted."

"Dara, I just spent three weeks helping a planet rebuild. There wasn't a lot of time for sleep."

"Like you were sleeping much before that?"

I caught the skin on my left hand with the tool in my right and cursed. "Look...." My voice was as patient as I could get it, considering I was about to explode. "I know you mean well. But your interference is as unnecessary as it is unwelcome."

She had the grace to look a bit ashamed, but not to quit entirely. "I'm sorry, but--"

"No buts, unless it's in the form of a 'butt out.'"

"But--"

"I said no."

"Look, you're a nice guy. You've got your whole life ahead of you, and I just hate seeing you so wasting away, killing yourself, over a l--" she stopped suddenly, then shook her head. "Never mind."

She couldn't meet my eyes anymore. Something wasn't right. "Over a what?"

"I should let you get back to work," she said as she took a few steps away from me.

First she was so eager to talk, and now she wanted to get away? Suddenly I was very interested in chatting. "Over a what?"

"It was nothing. Forget it."

"Dara, what's going on?"

"Ka'ar had the wrench," Anakin called out as he turned the corner. "I think we should be done with this section soon."

I looked over at him. "Excellent." The sooner we got back home, the better. When I turned back to Dara, she was gone.

We were on our way again that night. Anakin was exhausted from working on the ship, and fell asleep easily, but I was not that lucky. I needed to exercise. Maybe then I could sleep.

Most of the ship was asleep, so I headed for the common room. It was large enough to allow me freedom of movement, and I wouldn't be likely to disturb anyone at this hour.

Of course it was just my luck that Dara found me before I'd even started the kata. "Obi-Wan. I've been looking for you."

"There's a surprise," I muttered. "What can I do for you?"

"Listen, I know you're annoyed with me." Ah, so she did have some perceptive abilities after all? "But whatever you think, I'm doing this because I just hate to see you hurting. We were friends once, and I'd like to think we could be again now."

"Friends don't keep things from friends."

For a moment I thought she was going to pretend she didn't know what she meant, then she nodded. "I may be a friend, but I serve the Jedi first and foremost. Such a thing is hard to just toss aside."

That made no sense. Not that badgering her was likely to get me anywhere. So I tried a new tactic. "You want to know why I'm so tired?"

"You feel like talking about it?"

"Sure. Why not? It's not as if not talking about it has gotten me anywhere. I lie awake at night, reliving the last night Qui-Gon was alive. Then I finally fall asleep and relive his death. So I wake up, lie there and relive the last night all over again. It is an endless cycle, it is painful, it is mind-numbing, and it is exhausting."

The admission hurt so much I was shaking, but I somehow knew that whatever she wasn't telling me was something I had to know. I needed to know, no matter what the cost. When she didn't speak, I continued. "I'm not sure which is worse, the memory, or the nightmare. But I am sure that it's preferable to be alone, where I don't have to answer questions, or act like everything's just fine. Because it's not."

A couple of tears slid down her cheeks, but she didn't start crying in earnest. Instead, she did the unexpected. She leaned up and kissed me on the cheek, then moved her lips to my ears and whispered words that changed my life yet again.

"Qui-Gon's not dead."

Before I could say anything she kissed me on the mouth, effectively stifling the scream of "What?!" that would have made its way out a moment later. I pulled her off me, but she immediately put her fingers to my lips.

"Not here." The warning was clear in her eyes, but I wasn't that easily put off. I didn't care if there were three cameras in the room and the entire Council was watching. I wanted an answer and I wanted it now.

"Where, then?"

She looked around, then seemed to realize there was nowhere else. If the ship was outfitted with surveillance equipment, no room would be safe. So she kissed my cheek again, trailing kisses up to my ear, where she whispered the information. "I saw him almost a year ago, after Naboo, ill, but alive. That's all I know."

With that, she pulled away, intent on leaving. I stopped her, but she shook her head. "That's all."

"We'll talk tomorrow," I promised as I let her go. I wasn't going to stop until I found out exactly what was going on. If she was lying, then why? It was cruel and heartless, on top of being dishonest. What would she stand to gain by it? And if it was true...then I wouldn't stop until I found Qui-Gon. And answers.

Dara managed to stay out of my sight until we got off the ship the next morning. I went looking for her at the Temple, but either she had other Jedi covering for her---an almost unheard of feat--or she was steering clear of everyone to avoid me. It was obvious she wouldn't be found until she wanted to be.

I was in a foul mood by the time I returned to my quarters. Anakin was reading in the main room, but when I arrived he put down the reader and stood. "Can I do something for you, Master?"

I shook my head, then reconsidered. "Why don't you go get your lightsaber? We'll practice defensive moves."

"Yes, sir!" Anakin hurried toward his room, then stopped. "I almost forgot," he said as he turned back and held out a folded piece of paper. "There's a message for you."

I nodded, reaching for the note, but waiting until he left before opening it. I wasn't really surprised to see it was from Dara. Paper was rather scarce on Coruscant. Datapads and computers were preferred. Unless you didn't want an electronic trail of your message. And she'd obviously felt a need for secrecy about this...whatever this was she'd pulled me into.

Opening my mind to accept any possibilities, I read the note.

Obi-Wan,

I cannot in good conscience leave you wondering without the last bit of information I have. His ship was headed for Taleux. The attempt to wipe my memory of knowledge of his survival failed, and I could be thrown out of the order on my ear for not reporting that. Never mind what they'd do to me if they knew I told you. But I could not keep quiet.

Please be careful. There are strange currents in the Force surrounding this entire affair, and the whole thing makes me nervous.

My Master and I leave today for a mission that may take some time, so it will likely be a while before I see you again.

May the Force be with you.

Dara

I sat down on the couch, putting the note on the table. None of this made any sense. If Dara was right--and I was nowhere near ready to dismiss the possibility that she was completely delusional--why hide the truth? The Sith killed Qui-Gon. At least as far as everyone knew that was the case. If that was wrong...

But it couldn't be. I would know if he was alive. Even if I put aside the fact that he would find a way to let me know if he were alive, even if he couldn't find a way, I would know. I would sense his presence. He couldn't hide that from me.

Could he?

This was madness. I couldn't comprehend all the possibilities yet. There was no sense in even trying. I needed to do some investigating and prove to myself that this was just something Dara's crazed mind had created.

Because the alternative was unthinkable.

I wouldn't find out anything on Coruscant. Dara had been my only source of information, and she had conveniently removed herself. I needed to go to Taleux.

"Master?" I looked up to see Anakin waiting near the door, lightsaber in hand.

Anakin. Taleux was right next to Tatooine. How convenient for me. "Let's go," I said as I rose from the couch. I would take him to train as if nothing had happened. As if everything was completely normal.

And then tomorrow I would ask the Council to allow us to visit Tatooine. Visits back home were normal for students. And the timing, just after he'd been tested at the end of his first year, couldn't have been better. No one would think anything of the request, or of me accompanying such a special student on his trip home.

From there, I would find a way to visit Taleux.

Our trip to Tatooine was approved without so much as a raised eyebrow. The Council was pleased with Anakin's progress and with our successful mission on Jural. In fact, they must have been very pleased, because we received two weeks to stay on Tatooine.

During the trip, Anakin spent a lot of time in the cockpit with Ka'ar. I sat in my cabin and analyzed the situation to death, rehashing the same points until they threatened to drive me crazy.

Qui-Gon couldn't possibly be alive. So why was I following this through, chasing phantoms across space on the hushed claims of someone I'd only known as a child?

Maybe I needed to have proof so the next time she tried to tell me he was alive I could stop her in her tracks. "Sorry, Dara, I was there and he was not, so stop torturing me."

Then again, there was always the slight possibility that she was telling the truth. Even if I couldn't sense Qui-Gon anywhere. Even if such a deception seemingly went against everything the Jedi lived by. That I would find him alive seemed impossible.

And yet he is the one who taught me that, 'The only thing that is truly impossible is that anything is truly impossible.' It wasn't part of the Jedi Code, but Qui-Gon said it was one of the most important lessons he'd learned in life. Once you remembered that rule, it became much easier to solve a problem, because you knew you hadn't dismissed the answer.

So even though it seemed impossible, I had to know for sure. The part of me that desperately wanted it to be true wouldn't rest until I knew. What that part of me would do with the part that would be severely upset I wouldn't know until the situation arose.

I was half-afraid and half-hopeful that I'd get the chance to find out.

We passed by Taleux just before we reached Tatooine. I wanted to reach out with the Force, to see if I could sense Qui-Gon's presence, but I kept myself as shielded as I could without alarming Anakin.

If Qui-Gon was alive, then someone was obviously shielding him from everyone connected to the Force. I would have sensed him otherwise. Our connection had been too strong to die completely--even if he had died, which had puzzled me for the last year.

Perhaps that accounted for my difficulty in dealing with his death, as well as my current search. From the moment I awoke in the med bay, there had been no trace of Qui-Gon in the Force. It was as if he'd simply ceased to exist in every way, shape or form. Without that comforting presence in the Force, his death had been difficult to accept.

If he was alive, he was being shielded. And my presence in the Force would alert whoever was shielding him. He would be gone before my investigation had even begun--assuming he was still here. It had been a year, if Dara was to be believed.

The ship's comm system flared to life and Ka'ar informed me we were about to land. I went to collect my apprentice, not surprised when I found him with both our bags packed and ready to go. He was excited about seeing his mother again.

If I was lucky, he would be so wrapped up in his excitement he wouldn't notice my preoccupation or miss me while I searched on Taleux. Or notice my sudden heart attack if I actually found Qui-Gon.

I stayed at Shmi Skywalker's house that night, biding my time in order to raise as few questions as possible when I went off-world. The following morning I told Anakin I wanted to do some exploring while he spent time alone with his mother. He spared me enough attention to say, "Goodbye, Master," before turning back to his mother to continue the list of things he'd learned since leaving.

Getting transport off Tatooine was easy. Getting information once I arrived on Taleux was not. It took three days of hours of careful questioning, followed by a return Tatooine each night, before I began to think it might be a futile effort.

It was on the fourth day that I realized I might be wrong.

It was a small lead, really. My description of Qui-Gon sounded familiar to a shopkeeper in Sono, a moderately sized city on the far side of Taleux. Of course, as unique as my Master was to me, he's not the only person who would fit the description I gave. Still, there was something in the Force, something vaguely familiar.

Something that could be called wishful thinking.

The shopkeeper had little information--he thought he'd seen someone who might fit the description, but it had been a while. He directed me to a bar at the end of the street where a Malastarean sat nursing something I was pretty sure wasn't a good breakfast.

I moved down the bar to stand next to him. "Excuse me."

"Get lost."

So much for the polite approach. "I was told you might have some information I would be interested in." This time I used a bit of the Force to yank some manners out of the hidden recesses of his brain.

"Information? The library's in Yoto."

I fought the irritation that threatened to rise. Calm and logic were needed to solve this puzzle. "I'm looking for someone."

"What am I? No one?"

I ignored the comment and gave him a description of Qui-Gon, bringing more of the Force to bear on his mind. I wasn't sure the Council would approve, but then if they were hiding Qui-Gon here, they wouldn't approve of any of this. And if they were hiding him from me, I didn't much care if they approved. After a moment, the Malastarean gave me a location where I might find someone who could possibly fit the description. A vague lead at best.

But it was better than nothing, so I followed it. I ended up in a section of town consisting mostly of rental rooms. Each building looked much like the one next to it, and there were more buildings than I could search in the time I had left. I walked along, hoping for some kind of break, something that would end this search.

Suddenly, the odd feeling I'd had since arriving in Sono intensified. I looked at the building to my left. Nothing different in the appearance, and yet there was something different in the way it felt.

I found I had trouble swallowing as I opened the door and stepped inside. I'd expected my search to be a dead end. I'd counted on it. I hadn't counted on any kind of results. At least not consciously.

One day the Jedi really need to find a way to control the subconscious. As it was, I wasn't sure if it was my own secret wishes, or something in the Force that propelled me up a set of stairs and down a long hallway. I was almost to the end of the hall when I stopped right in front of one of the doors.

I raised my hand to knock, then changed my mind and pushed the door open. It was a small room, sparsely furnished with just a bed, a table and a chair. I noticed all this in the split second it took me to realize my eyes were not playing tricks on me.

The figure staring out the far window turned to face me, and I found myself unable to speak. He smiled faintly, as if he understood exactly what I was going through. Not that I think he ever could. Finally he took mercy on me and spoke. "Hello, Padawan."

The voice hit me like a physical object, forced me to realize that either cloning had become a reality, or this was Qui-Gon Jinn. Then the shields that must have been surrounding him released, and I felt his presence in my mind.

The sudden absence of that presence had haunted me for over a year. Its return rocked me to the core. I tried to say something, anything, but my senses were overwhelmed, and before I could manage a word I fainted.

When I awoke, I had a strange desire not to open my eyes. At first I couldn't figure out why, then everything came rushing back to me. I had to have been hallucinating, that was the only explanation. The search had taken its toll on me, and I'd lost my mind.

"I know you're awake."

That voice. Sith. I'd carefully avoided it, but now I had no choice but to recognize his presence in my mind. I opened my eyes to see him standing by the window. I was lying on the bed. I knew he had moved to catch me when I fainted, and placed me on the bed, but he'd gone back to the same spot he'd been in when I arrived.

I stared, but I couldn't think of a single thing to say. What is one supposed to say to a ghost who was made of flesh and blood? And he was definitely flesh and blood. I'd felt his hands close around my arms, felt his warmth as I fell against him before I lost consciousness. "You're looking well." It wasn't until the words were out that I realized I had said them.

"For a dead man?" he responded with a half-smile.

"You think this is funny?" I sat up, all the anger that I shouldn't be feeling coming to the surface. "You die right in front of me, despite my every effort to keep you alive, and then disappear for a year only to turn up not really dead, and you want to make jokes?"

He shrugged. "I thought it might help. I knew this wouldn't be easy."

"Oh, you think it isn't easy? I thought you were dead! Do you have any idea what that did to me? I bet you knew I was fine all along, right?"

Neither of us had moved so far, but now Qui-Gon walked over to the bed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."

His hand stretched out to touch me, but I jumped up and out of his reach. "How about an explanation, for a start?"

He let out one of his faint half-laughs, and I was torn between a shiver of desire and a wave of rage. Here was the man I'd been mourning for a year, alive and well. I could barely wrap my mind around the fact that I'd been feeling like half my soul was gone, and all along he'd been here.

And now he was laughing about it.

Apparently he could sense my rising anger. "I'm sorry," he said again. "It's just...there is no easy explanation."

"So start somewhere and take it from there."

He nodded as he rose and moved back to the window. I stayed far enough away that I could pay attention without the distraction of close physical proximity. "As you might have guessed, your attempts at healing me were more successful than you were led to believe."

"Led to believe? So I was intentionally misled from the start?"

"I awoke in a med bay, barely alive. They managed to tell me you'd saved me before I passed out. When I woke again, I realized I couldn't feel the Force. The room I was in was shielded. I also couldn't get up--in fact, I could barely move at all. Later, Council members came to visit. They...we decided it was best if everyone think I was dead."

"Everyone? Including me. How kind." The words felt as if they had been wrenched out of my guts. Despite all my training I couldn't temper the rage inside me. "So you've been hiding from me for a year?"

"I've been hiding from everyone."

"Not from the Council. They knew you were alive."

"Some of them, yes. But--"

"But you didn't care if I thought you were dead? If part of me died because of it? No, not as long as the Council had their way." I couldn't stand there and listen to any more of this. I had to get out.

I was half way to the door before his hand on my arm stopped me. "Obi-Wan, wait."

I glared down at his arm, then at his face. "Let me go." He dropped his hand as if he'd been burned. "I came here to rid myself of a ghost. But instead I found out the ghost was just a phantom of my own creation." I shrugged, refusing to let my hurt show through the contempt I felt. "Either way, at least I'm free. You no longer have any hold over me." I hardened myself against the shock and pain that registered on his face a split second before I turned and walked out without looking back.

That brief view of pain haunted me the rest of the night. It was joined by memories of the man I'd shared half my life with. I knew him, inside and out. He wasn't callous, he wasn't cruel, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved me. So why would he do this?

Maybe if you'd stayed, you'd have found out. Inner voices really needed an off switch. Still, it was true. I hadn't given him a chance to explain. I couldn't imagine what explanation could possibly make up for what he'd done, but then I couldn't imagine every conceivable possibility either. And it wouldn't be the first time I'd disagreed with his method of dealing with something.

But then his methods had never hurt me this badly. Not even when he tried to dump me in front of the entire Council and take Anakin as his apprentice. He thought I was old enough and close enough to being a Knight that I could take the whole thing in stride. And I did, at least outwardly. My objections to Anakin's training were more to do with my faith in the Council and my own feelings of impending disaster than any real jealousy. I knew Anakin couldn't come between what Qui-Gon and I shared outside of the normal master/apprentice bond.

If he thought I was going to calmly accept what he'd done and go on as if he hadn't ripped me to shreds by his actions this time, he was wrong. Did he expect me to just forget about this all together? Or did he expect me to play along? I didn't know if I could do either, no matter what his reasons might have been.

I didn't know his reasons. I didn't know his expectations. And I wouldn't know either until I talked to him. No, until I listened to him.

I was going to have to go back.

I kept myself shielded from Anakin as much as I could that night. I could tell he suspected something was going on at this point, but I doubted seriously that he would figure it out. The next morning I acted as if I was taking another day to explore. And headed back to Sono.

I found the room again without difficulty. Half of me expected him to have disappeared. The other half knew he'd never have been found if he'd planned to disappear after. I'd had time to calm down a little--enough to be objective about my search, if not about the results. I knew he must have let me find him. What I didn't know was why.

I pushed the door open without knocking. He was lying on the bed, eyes closed, but they opened as soon as the door click shut behind me. He didn't speak; he just waited, watching.

"Why?" I asked finally.

"Why what?" he asked as he sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to rest on the floor

"Pick one. " He continued to watch silently until I decided for him. "Fine. Why did you deceive me?" No sense in starting with an easy one.

He took a deep breath. "The Sith had to believe I was dead."

"Do you think I'm the Sith?" The expression on his face was enough to tell me he didn't. "Then you haven't answered my question. Why did you deceive me?"

"No one could know about my survival."

"No one? The Council knew. The Healers knew. You trusted an apprentice healer before you trusted me. Me!"

"You're not going to accomplish anything by getting angry, Padawan."

"Don't call me that!"

He blinked at the anger in my voice, the only outward sign he even cared how I felt. "You may be a Knight, but you will always be my Padawan."

"Masters don't lie to their Padawans."

One eyebrow arched up. "So Anakin is fully aware of where you are and what you're doing?"

"This is different."

"Really?"

"He doesn't think I'm dead."

"So Masters only tell small lies to their students?"

"Knowing about this would only endanger him." And increase Qui-Gon's chances of being discovered, but I wasn't about to admit that I gave a damn and give him that much ammunition. I knew what he was doing, trying to get me to make his argument for him. It wasn't going to work.

"As it endangers you. I don't wish for you to be in danger, Obi-Wan."

So it's fine for me to be miserable and grieving, as long as I'm not in danger from his secret? Never mind the danger that every Jedi encounters in the field. Never mind that I'm more than capable of keeping his existence hidden. "I don't care about danger. I never have. What I care--cared about was you. And now I find out that was all a lie?"

"It was not a lie."

I longed to rip away that calm Jedi Master exterior and see if there really were any feelings beneath the surface. Once I'd thought I knew the answer. Now I wasn't sure. "If it had been real you wouldn't have been able to allow me to believe you were dead."

"If I thought it would keep you safe I would."

"How can you sit there and act like we're at some diplomatic reception? Unless I'm right and you really don't care what happens here."

"Just because I'm trying to be rational doesn't mean I don't have feelings."

"Are you sure, Qui-Gon? Because from here it looks like you don't have enough emotion to fit in your little finger."

He jumped up so fast that I moved back instinctively, my hand reaching for my 'saber. "Would you prefer I launch into raging diatribes on how unfair it was that we were ripped apart by such petty things as a dark Force that threatens the entire galaxy?" he asked as he advanced on me. "Or shall I describe the sick feeling in my stomach every week when I received reports from Mace that included another mention of how well you weren't coping with my death. I knew they wouldn't give me the full picture lest I do something rash, and yet their descriptions of your grief were still heartbreaking."

I backed away until I met the door; two steps later he had me trapped against it. "You had it within your power to end it all. Yet you did nothing."

"Nothing was within my power. All I could do was stay where I was, heal and hide."

I refused to back down, even though his face was inches from mine. "You seem to be in complete control of yourself. There are no bars on the windows. The door is unlocked. What's keeping you here?"

"I could not contact you."

He kept saying that, or variations of it. I knew I was missing something in the words, but I was too angry to think clearly. "Well whoever is hiding you here is losing their touch then. I found you; what makes you think others can't?"

"I don't want them to find me."

Oh, but he wanted me to find him. Not only was I supposed to forgive him for letting me think he was dead, apparently I was supposed to do all the work to find out he was alive and then thank him for the chance? "If you'd known how it would make me feel, you wouldn't have wanted me to find you either."

He responded with a kiss. Not the light, testing kind either. The deep kind that you could get lost in--and I wanted to. It would have been so easy. My body responded instantly to the familiar feeling it had been denied for far too long. As I pressed closer to him, I wanted to give in and take everything I'd mourned for the last year. Everything I'd thought I'd never have again, while he was sitting here, knowingly denying me.

I surprised him with a sudden push of the Force, knocking him back far enough for me to pull the door open. "I have duty to attend to. You should understand that without any problems," I said as I turned to leave, proud that my voice didn't shake.

"Obi-Wan, wait--"

"Why should I? You may have some invisible chain that's holding you here, but I don't. In fact, nothing here has any hold on me at all. Not anymore." I left quickly, ignoring him as he called after me. He didn't bother far enough to come after me. I guess his act didn't extend to physically exerting himself.

No matter. It was done. It was time to close the door on that chapter of my life and move on.

Anakin was waiting at the door when I arrived back at Shmi Skywalker's house. "Master! Master Yoda wants to talk to you."

I took a deep breath and composed myself as I walked into the house. "He called on the comlink?"

"A few minutes ago," Anakin confirmed with a nod. "Said to tell you to call him in his quarters at the Temple when you got back."

"Very well. I'll call him from outside." I nodded at Shmi as I walked past the kitchen and through to the balcony, where I sat down on the wall and activated the comlink.

Moments later, Yoda's voice crackled through the speaker. "Busy boy you've been."

"Excuse me?" I knew better than to try to evade him, but I wasn't admitting to anything until I knew what he was accusing me of.

"Know where you've been, I do. Fool me you cannot."

Sith. He knew. "I was not trying to, Master."

"Forget what you have seen, you must. Much depends on this."

"Believe me, Master, I intend to try very hard to forget."

"Do not try. Do."

I sighed. I knew what he meant. I had to shield my thoughts tightly. If one trace of my knowledge of Qui-Gon's survival were read by the wrong being.... "Very well. I will forget."

"No thoughts of it can you have, or all may be lost."

May. But not will. I may have been mad at Qui-Gon, but that didn't mean I wanted him dead. Of course I didn't--I'd spent the last year wanting him alive again. Although now that I'd gotten my wish...

"Obi-Wan. Your understanding I must have."

"Yes, Master Yoda. I understand. My thoughts are my own and no one would gain anything from reading them."

"Good. Watch your Padawan you must."

"Yes, Master."

"See you when you return, I will. Immediately."

"Yes, Master." I shut off the comlink and stared out at the setting suns. Not only did I have a problem, now I couldn't even think about it. Or at least I shouldn't. As hard as I tried, the memory of that kiss wouldn't leave my tightly shielded thoughts.

It didn't matter. I had to forget. At least now I had a reason to keep me from going back to Sono, assuming I weakened. I couldn't go back, even if I wanted to, which I didn't.

Going back would be madness. And it was out of the question.

It took me thirty-six hours to throw caution--and implied orders--to the wind. Master Yoda hadn't actually told me I couldn't go back. He'd only told me to forget. Which might have implied going back, but he wasn't explicit about it. In the future he would have to be more direct. Assuming I had a future after this.

It was dangerous to go back--more so for Qui-Gon than for me. But I had to go. Too many things didn't make sense. Like the fact that he didn't come after me when I left the last time. He had been trying so hard to convince me to stay and listen, but he couldn't be bothered to follow me out the door? That seemed rather strange. Almost as strange as my finding him in the first place.

The door was unlocked, so once again I walked in without knocking. He was standing next to the window again, a half-smile on his face as he stared at the empty sky.

"You really should lock your door, you know. Anyone could walk right in."

"It was locked."

"But I--oh." He had unlocked it when he sensed me. I closed the door behind me and stood there for a moment, not sure what to say. There were so many questions, and I wasn't even sure I wanted answers to some of them. "You didn't follow me," I blurted out finally. Not really the issue I would have chosen if I'd been thinking clearly.

He turned to look at me, the smile still in place. "I know where Anakin's mother lives."

"You obviously didn't want me to leave, yet you didn't try to stop me once I walked out the door."

"I did call after you."

"But you didn't come after me." He continued to look at me, silent and still as a statue. "You can't, can you? You can't leave the room."

"Of course I can. I can walk. There are no bars on the doors."

"But it's shielded somehow, isn't it?" His smile grew, and I knew I'd figured it out. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Just as I couldn't tell you I was alive, there are a great many other things I must keep to myself."

"But it's fine if I figure them out on my own?" Great. I came here for answers and I get a guessing game. "It's not as if you've been a strict follower of the rules, Ma--Qui-Gon." It would be so easy to slip back into a comfortable existence around him. But I couldn't. Too much had happened. I would not forget that easily. And I would not call him Master.

"My life has never depended so heavily on it."

"That explains why you don't leave. But not why you can't tell me the rest."

"The less you know, the better, according to the Council."

Now I started to understand. "They don't trust me."

"They think you may be ruled by things other than logic."

"They've watched me over the last year. They know I've done well with the most powerful student we've had in ages, and they don't trust my ability to shield my thoughts?"

"Against a Sith?"

"I killed a Sith! I think I'm a match for them."

He nodded. "Exactly."

I took a deep breath. My overconfidence could well be my undoing, especially when it came to the Sith. Perhaps the Council was right. "But you're helping me find the answers."

"The Council is wise. However," he added, his voice lowering, "they don't know you as well as I do."

I managed to fight the shiver that threatened to crawl up my spine at his tone. Images from the past floated through my mind, clear and vivid, along with accompanying sounds and tastes. He did indeed know me well. Every inch of me.

I shook my head and forced those thoughts away. No use thinking about what could no longer be. Not without trust.

"I trust you," he said quietly.

My head shot up, eyes wide, mouth ready to blast him for reading my thoughts, until I realized he was simply continuing his line of reasoning. "And you hope that by trusting me with this you'll earn back my trust as well?"

"If that happens, it will be a benefit. One that would make me happy, true, but still not my main reason. I trust you because I know I can."

I wanted to say that I would never trust him again, but I knew better than to try to even tell myself that. Only time would tell if the trust could be rebuilt. At this point I still wasn't sure if I wanted it to be. "I should go before anyone...well, I'm quite sure I'm not supposed to be here."

"Probably not," he replied with a nod. "Will you come again?"

"I...I don't know." I left quickly before I could think of another reason to stay.

I didn't need Anakin to be standing at the door to tell me Master Yoda wanted to talk to me upon my return, but he was there anyway. I hurried out to the balcony and prepared myself to be handed a reprimand only a tiny, green, 900-year-old Jedi Master could dish out.

"Knew you could not stay away, I did."

I smiled in spite of myself. "Then you knew more than I."

"Love him still, you do?"

"I don't trust him."

"Not my question. Love him, you do."

I wouldn't have argued, even if it had been a question. "I don't suppose that'll ever change. Not that it does either of us much good without trust."

"Rebuilt that can be."

"Over a small breech of trust, perhaps, but this?"

"Lied to you as well, I did. Trust me not?"

"Of course not, but I didn't--" I stopped short. I could forgive anyone before I could forgive Qui-Gon, when he had been the one I loved most. That didn't exactly make sense. But then feelings never had been based in logic. "With all due respect, Master, I never have expected full disclosure from you."

"Search your feelings, you must. Time will heal."

I hope. "I am sorry I went back, Master, but you did not tell me to stay away, only to forget."

"Ha! Knew you what I meant. Returned again you did regardless."

I sighed. "It won't happen again. I won't go back."

"Wrong. Go back you must."

"Excuse me?"

"He must be moved. Dangerous for him to stay now that you have gone there."

I was beginning to wish I'd stayed on Coruscant. "Wouldn't I be the most likely person for the Sith to track to get to him?"

"Yes. So suspect you the Sith will not."

It was a gamble, but not necessarily a bad one. Half the Jedi order had spent time looking for the Sith in the year since the death of the apprentice. And apart from finding out that the one I killed was the apprentice, we knew nothing. Even if Qui-Gon's survival was discovered, perhaps it would draw the Sith out.

I wasn't anxious to fight the Master after having battled the Apprentice. But I knew one thing--Qui-Gon wasn't facing him alone. If I had to be there to protect him, so be it. I might not trust him, but I wasn't ready to let him die twice. Not after all I'd done to save him. "When do we leave?"

"Stay with his mother, Anakin will. Knight Campbell will arrive tomorrow to stay with the boy and then bring him back. Not ready for this knowledge is he."

"I agree."

"Go back in two days you will. Safer, it is, to contact him with the information."

"I understand." The shielded room would offer less opportunity for the information to be intercepted. "I'll be there."

"Good. Be careful you will. And may the Force be with you."

I shut off the comlink and resisted the urge to throw it. I'd planned on not seeing Qui-Gon again for a long time. Now it appeared I'd be spending days with him. Possibly weeks or months--missions we were involved in never seemed to go easy, and this was the most dangerous yet. I wasn't ready to handle that much time with him. If my anger became too strong, shields might not hold it.

I stood, strengthening my resolve. I would have to be ready. There was no other choice.

Sleep was more elusive than ever that night. As soon as the twin suns began to chase away the stars I was up, attempting to lose myself in meditation, using it as a substitute for the lost sleep. My mind drifted, landing on the subject I most wished to avoid, of course.

Qui-Gon. My own personal ghost, come to life. I understood we all have to face the things that bother us most. But I still didn't think it was quite fair to be thrown into constant contact with my biggest issue in close quarters on the worst mission of my life.

No, second worst. Nothing will ever surpass Naboo. The memory of the Sith's blade slicing through skin, muscle, organs and bone, the smell of burning flesh and other things I didn't even want to identify, the feel of Qui-Gon's life flowing from his body, and of being helpless to stop it, but needing to try--all of it came back in a rush.

Along with the feeling of failure when I woke up and realized I had not managed to save him. A lie, as it turned out, just one out of many told to me since then, and of who knows how many told before that day. I wondered just how much of my life had been based on a lie, then rejected the question. The suns were getting brighter, and I could feel my Padawan waking in the next room. My feelings would have to be dealt with later.

Anakin came out of his room as I was folding the blankets I'd slept on. "Good morning, Master."

"Padawan." I nodded at him, then noticed a new bracelet on his wrist. "What's this?" I asked, pointing at the shiny jewelry.

"Chancellor Palpatine gave it to me yesterday!" His eyes shone with excitement. "He was in Mos Espa when Mom and I went to the market, and he stopped just to talk to me. Said the bracelet was to thank me for saving his planet."

I frowned in spite of myself. "What is the Supreme Chancellor doing in the Outer Rim?"

"He was on his way back from Naboo. He saw Pad--Amidala and said she told him to tell me hello and to visit as soon as I could."

"So he stopped here to deliver her message?" That made no sense.

"No, he said he was working on a deal between the Outer Rim and the Repbulic. He was going to give me the message when he got back to Coruscant, but he saw me here. So I got it sooner."

A deal between the Outer Rim and the Republic seemed about as likely as a Hutt starting a charity. Still, I'd never cared much for Palpatine; it could be my own feelings clouding my judgment. He could truly be working miracles in the Rim.

And Qui-Gon could still be dead. Both options seemed to have the same chance of being true at the moment. But Palpatine and whatever he might be doing could wait. Right now I had a mission, and a Padawan to leave behind.

"Anakin...."

The boy spared a momentary glance away from the bracelet. "Yes, Master?"

"I have to leave tomorrow."

His eyes clouded briefly, then he straightened his shoulders. "I was planning to spend more time with Mom, but if we have to go...."

"You can stay. Knight Campbell is coming to stay with you, and she will escort you back to Coruscant as scheduled."

"But where are you going?"

I smiled, remembering my own eagerness to go on every mission when I was younger. An eagerness that never really faded--I just learned how to hide it better. "I have a mission I need to attend to alone. I don't know how long I will be, but I hope it will be fairly short." I didn't want to think about the consequences of drawing this out.

He nodded. I could tell he was disappointed, but he did not let that emotion take over--a fact I noticed with a little pride. "You are to listen to Knight Campbell as if her words were coming from me, understand?" Another nod. "Keep up with the katas we've been practicing and the lessons you were assigned before we left. I'll be expecting some improvement when I get back to Coruscant."

"Yes, Master."

I hesitated only a moment before giving him a quick hug. "You're a good apprentice, Anakin Skywalker. I'm a lucky Master."

"Thank you, Master," he said, the serious tone at odds with the large smile on his face.

"No, thank you." Shmi entered the room, breaking up the conversation with talk of breakfast. Over the meal, Anakin and I discussed what we would do with the day, since I would be gone for a while. I insisted on practicing katas together. He insisted I help him with the droid he was working on. I had a feeling he would be talking Campbell into taking that thing back to the Temple, but if I'd put up with Qui-Gon's strays throughout the years, I could handle one droid.

I steered my thoughts away from my former Master, conscious of Anakin's presence, and focused on the day before me. Time enough to deal with other problems when night fell.

The following morning I said goodbye to my apprentice and went off to Sono, still unsure of exactly how I would deal with this challenge. I would have to be cool to him. He would get the idea after a while, and we could finish this mission like Jedi, with no injury to either of us--either physical or mental. If we couldn't do that, well...no, it didn't matter. We could. We had to.

The trip was far too short. In no time at all I stood in front of that door again, knowing it would be open. I took a deep breath, then walked inside.

Qui-Gon stood at the window, as usual, but he turned as I closed the door. "It appears the Force took the decision out of your hands."

"It would seem that way, yes." I dropped my pack next to the door. "Has the Council contacted you yet?"

He nodded. "We're to leave--" He stopped and looked around. "It isn't safe to do this out loud."

No. It wasn't fair to ask this of me. "Why?"

"Ears pick up things in shielded rooms that the Force cannot hide."

So the shields would protect our telepathic communication, but not vocal ones. This was getting worse by the minute. Letting someone inside your personal shields, dropping them to the extent that you hear a voice in your head that is not your own, is an act requiring extreme trust.

Extreme necessity would have to do. "Fine," I snapped. We'd had a bond strong enough to communicate every thought if we wished it before. Surely a pale imitation of that bond would be enough for what we needed now. I closed my eyes and focused, relaxing my shields and trying my best to keep the doubts out.

I felt a fizzle of another presence, then nothing. After a moment, Qui-Gon sighed. "You're going to have to do better."

"Me?" My eyes popped open. "I'm not the one who betrayed our trust. If you had done better this wouldn't be a problem."

He hadn't been able to establish telepathy, but I could feel his emotions, much to my dismay. I felt the pain my words had caused, followed by a willingness to take whatever I handed him. "True. But we can't change the past, and I would like to stay alive, even if you would prefer otherwise."

"I never said I wished you were dead." Although I suppose my actions could give that impression. But he knew me better than that. Or he had. I sighed, tired of fighting. "Let's try it again."

"Let me try something." His hands rose toward my face, then stopped. "If you will allow me?"

I knew what he wanted--a closer physical connection to make the process easier. I gave up on any aspect of this mission being easy and nodded once, then closed my eyes again. His hands rested lightly on either side of my face as I tried again to lower my shields enough to let him in. After a moment I heard his voice faintly in my head. [Obi-Wan?]

[Here.] The feeling was at once familiar and upsetting. Everything I'd had, everything I'd mourned the loss of, was right here. I had it all back, and the pain of how it was lost was too great for me to want to do anything but refuse it.

I could feel his pleasure at the reconnection of our bond, even if it was a tenuous one. [We are to leave at nightfall. There will be a ship waiting. I'll lead you.]

I nodded as I stood back and broke the physical connection, but the thin mental one remained. "Understood," I said aloud, not willing to use the mental link unless I absolutely had to. Nothing about this was going to be easy for me. I wasn't about to make it easy for him.

We made it to the ship without incident. Once we were on board, we found papers identifying us as traders. I marveled once again at the ability of the Council to bend the truth to suit their own purposes. It went against everything the Jedi seemed to stand for, and yet I was beginning to realize many of the actions we took for granted fell under that same heading.

Our abilities to exert our own wishes over the minds of others--what was that if not planting lies? Not to mention that it takes away the very freedom we are supposed to protect. Of course, we use it toward a greater good, but I wondered, would the beings we use it on see it the same way? Or would they feel used and betrayed, their trust in the Jedi gone in an instant?

I wouldn't blame them if they did. Not anymore. I had a unique understanding of just how they would feel.

I stole a glance at Qui-Gon, who was sitting next to me in the cockpit, scanning the area for other ships. Yes, they would definitely feel betrayed. And hurt. And they wouldn't want to trust again, except for that one little part of them that said they should try.

Or perhaps that was just me.

"There's a Republic Guard ship in our direct path," he warned. "A slight course alteration would keep us out of their way."

I checked the screen and made the necessary adjustments. "Done."

"Remember when we had to dodge the Nimerian troops for three days?" he asked suddenly. "They kept cloaking their signals so we couldn't read them without adjusting our equipment--"

"--and I almost crashed into one because I didn't see him till the last moment." I smiled. "I've never been so glad to see any planet as I was to see Cotera when we finally landed." And received orders to Naboo to check on a small trade dispute.

Suddenly the humor in the situation was gone. We'd had to keep the bond open because of the mission, and I knew he could sense my feelings, if not my thoughts. Just as I could sense his sadness at my unfortunate train of thought.

For a moment I thought he was going to say something, but he just sighed and rose from the co-pilot seat. "I'm going to rest. The area seems to be clear for now, but the proximity alarm will let you know if anyone comes too close."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and unwilling to use the bond. He stood there a moment longer, then moved to one of the two long couches that jutted out of the walls directly behind us. The small ship was built to house two people and cargo, with living space at a minimum. The couches were there so one or both pilots could sleep close to the controls, in case an emergency arose. He could have gone to the small bedroom two compartments over. It wasn't as if he would be that far away if there was trouble.

Of course, if he'd done that, he wouldn't have been able to force his presence on me. I didn't even try to hide that thought, but it didn't matter. He was already asleep. I set the controls for automatic, double-checking all the alarms, then looked back over my shoulder at his sleeping form.

I hadn't realized that he wasn't completely recovered, but if he was sleeping in what should have been the middle of the day for him, he couldn't be well. Considering the chill of the ship, he should have pulled a blanket over himself before he fell asleep. I thought about doing it for him, then decided against it. He obviously didn't think he needed me to take care of him; who was I to argue with a Jedi Master?

For the next three days he slept more than I'd ever seen him sleep. I studied him in his sleep often, looking at the familiar features, trying not to remember tracing every inch of them with my own hands. His face was far more lined than I remembered, and his hair had turned half-white in just a year. A sign of the stress he must have been under, both in healing, and in hiding.

When he was awake, he tried to engage me in conversation at first. He asked about Anakin's training, about the Temple, about my missions, about anything he thought might get me to talk to him. I deflected the questions with responses that never lasted longer than one or two sentences, and by the end of the day he'd given up. After that, he only spoke when he had to.

By the end of the second day, the silence was more grating than the conversation had been. He wasn't acting like a martyr, but I was starting to feel like he was. Silent staring, gratitude for something so little as handing him a glass of water--even his movement around the ship was quiet, as if he was afraid if he made too much noise I'd drop him on the next planet and leave him there.

When he hit his elbow on the chair, then immediately muffled his outburst and cast me an apologetic look, I couldn't take it anymore. "Will you please stop that?"

"I'm sorry. I was trying to be quiet."

"If you get any more quiet I'm going to forget you're on the ship!" That wasn't quite true; if it were, it would have made things a lot easier.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"And stop that too! You're acting as if I've told you you're some kind of huge burden I have to bear."

He blinked. "I was under the impression that was exactly what I was."

"You're not a burden. You're a mission. And I have never seen my missions as burdens."

The sad look was back again. "I'm sorry."

"For what? You keep apologizing. But for what?"

"Upsetting you. Misreading you."

I shook my head, suddenly sick of this whole affair. "If you want to apologize for something, start with Naboo. Then you can move on to every day after."

I didn't need my link with him to feel the hurt he felt, or the shame that followed. He returned to silence, thankfully a much less intrusive one, and soon he was asleep.

He'd been asleep for several hours when it started. The same noises that had awakened me the night before. This time I wasn't asleep. I hadn't been able to sleep yet. He tossed around on the bed, muttering, and I could feel intense pain coming from him. Pain and anger. It went on so long I was about to wake him when it subsided, and he eased back into sleep. I wondered what kind of nightmare could cause that, then decided I didn't want to know.

When he was fully asleep again, I got up, pulled the blanket he was always forgetting up over him, and lay down in my own bed. Fighting the emotions he was projecting during the nightmares drained me. Sleep came quickly, before I could really wonder if I'd been waiting for the nightmare to come and go before I could sleep myself.

Neither of us mentioned his nightmares the next day. We settled into an uneasy truce. He was silent, but not annoyingly so, and I tried not to blow up at him. It seemed to work, which encouraged me to think we might actually make it through this mission after all.

Qui-Gon went to bed early, as usual. I forced myself to lie down when I was tired, determined to sleep and not wait to see if he had the nightmare again. If he needed me, I knew I would wake. It wasn't from any desire to help. It was just the way things were.

Noises from the other bed woke me. In the faint light from the ship's control panels I could see Qui-Gon tossing and turning. I could also feel the turmoil of his emotions across the link. Another nightmare. If he'd been having these before we left Talos it was no wonder he was so tired. They drained me, and I was only getting the overflow of the emotions he was experiencing.

I waited for the nightmare to end, but when the normal amount of time had passed, it only seemed to get worse. He was practically thrashing on the bed now, the blanket having been tossed into the floor. The sounds he made were almost unintelligible, but the few words I did understand were in his native language and did not encourage me as to the nature of his dreams. Nor did the rage and despair that rolled off him in waves so great my shields were as effective as a blanket trying to hold off a bantha. I had to wake him, if only in self-defense.

I climbed out of my bed and moved to sit on the edge of his. "Qui-Gon," I whispered, my hand gripping his sweat-slicked shoulder. He reached out and shoved at my arm with such force he knocked me off the bed. Waking him in this state was not going to be easy--or pretty. I could use the Force to calm him. I had been reluctant to do so, since opening the link between us enough to reach into his mind would very likely subject me to the demons he was fighting there. Not a situation I was anxious to put myself in, but if I continued simply trying to wake him, I could end up with a black eye.

My decision made, I closed my eyes and concentrated on our link, following it to the source of the dreams. It was a dark path, but then fears do not tend to shed light in the subconscious. The anger and desperation threatened to overwhelm me as I reached the center of the dream. Images flashed in my mind, fuzzy at first, then slowly gaining focus. I saw Qui-Gon, on his knees, howling with rage. The yell was directed at a figure in a black, hooded cloak. Then he looked down, and I saw myself, on the floor. In two pieces, sliced through the stomach with a cut so clean it could only have come from a lightsaber.

The shock threw off my concentration, my mind withdrawing from his instantly, but I forced myself to go back. I surrounded the scene with a shield, buffering his mind from it and stuffing it back into his subconscious as quickly as I could before I had to face that image of myself again. After a moment he quieted, his body relaxing back onto the bed, his sleep returning to normal. I sighed with relief as I backed out of his mind; it appeared I wouldn't even have to wake him. I sat on the edge of the bed again, checking on him one more time, and then his eyes fluttered open.

"Obi-Wan?" he whispered softly.

"You had a nightmare."

A deep breath shuddered through him. "I thought...I saw...."

"I know, but it was only a dream."

"You--you were--"

"I saw, Qui-Gon. I know. But it wasn't real. I'm here, and I'm in one piece." I shivered as the image of myself from the dream refused to leave my own mind.

He sat up, his face inches from mine, and stared into my eyes. "Please," he said, one hand resting on my cheek.

I almost rubbed against it before I caught myself. The last thing he needed after such an emotional experience was mixed signals from me. "It was a dream," I repeated, as I placed my hand over his, intending to remove it from my face.

"Please," he said again, pulling me forward into a kiss before I could react.

I wasn't ready for this. I didn't want it yet--wasn't sure if I ever wanted it again, at least emotionally. Physically I knew I did, and if I hadn't known, my body's immediate reaction would have been proof enough on its own. But all the desire in the world couldn't make up for lack of trust.

I reached out to push him away, my hand landing on his stomach, but the feel of the soft, warm skin there and the hard muscle beneath was so tempting. I let my hand drift across it, memories growing stronger with the physical reminders, increasing my desire and testing my will to resist.

The kiss...his skin...it would be so easy just to give in and let this happen. Easy, and good. But it was too soon. I pulled back. "We can't."

"Please." His hand had gone behind my head, now it pulled me to him, despite my rather weak effort to resist. The kiss was soft and deep, not demanding but pleading. [Please,] he repeated in my mind. [I need....]

He needed. Where had he been over the last year when I needed? I reached up to push his hand from my neck, then froze as his other hand found my erection inside the sleep pants I wore and began teasing it. His fingers grazed the tip lightly, then ran down the length, effectively removing any ability I had to push him away. His whole hand wrapped around me there, a tight grip, and that was all it took to make me a willing participant.

I shoved off the pants without losing contact with either his hand or his lips. The link between us was the strongest it had been since I'd found him, my journey into his mind having solidified it. Through it I could see the images from the dream fighting to return to his mind, and his determination to banish them by filling his mind with every part of the living, breathing me he could get.

I rolled over him to lie on my back on his bed, never breaking the kiss, and shoved at his pants, desperate for his skin against mine everywhere. The pants disappeared, and I felt his leg rubbing against mine, his erection poking me in the hip. Then his lips left mine and began traveling down my neck and across my chest, pausing to give extra attention to the places that made me gasp the most.

When his mouth closed down over my erection, I shouted. He didn't linger there nearly long enough before kissing his way back up my body until he reached my lips again. He pulled me with him as he rolled over onto his back, continuing the kiss the whole time.

I knew what he wanted. I might have pushed my memories of him to a place deep inside me, but I still had every single one of them. Part of me still resisted giving in to what he wanted, but I wanted it too. Needed to feel his skin beneath my lips, craved the proof that he was in one piece, that there was no hole in his chest from a lightsaber.

My eyes stung with the threat of tears--whether for what had happened on Naboo, or at my own weakness now, I wasn't sure, but I held them back as my tongue and lips traced a muscle in the side of his neck down to his shoulder. I worked my way down his chest, teasing each nipple and then biting harder than I knew I should, feeling how the pain only increased his pleasure. Not my intent, but incredibly erotic.

As I nipped and kissed my way down his stomach, he moved beneath me, turning until I was kissing the hollow of his back. I could see into his mind, the images there showing me what he wanted with crystal clarity, and my own mind protested. I'd given into his touch, I'd even been a willing participant, but this...this I did not think I was ready for.

The images grew stronger, more vivid, and the memory of how it felt to be sheathed inside him, the tight, hot friction of moving in him nearly ended his chances right there. I breathed deeply, controlling myself, mentally cursing the twitching shaft between my legs and the man under me for both being so willing.

[Please.] Even his mental voice was thick with desire.

[We don't have anything....] I trailed off as the images hit me again, robbing me of coherent thought for a moment.

[Please. I need....] Once more I was assailed by the vision, and that was enough. I felt him gathering the Force as I moved over him, felt him using it to relax his muscles as much as he could, to open himself to me.

And then I was inside him, and I forgot to think. I only remembered to breathe because passing out would have ended this incredible sensation. And I didn't ever want it to end. I moved inside him, forgetting everything but the maddening pleasure that was overwhelming me. I don't know how long it lasted, but I drew it out as long as I could before I finally found my release. Somewhere in the haze that followed I felt his release as well through our link, and then I felt nothing as I sank down into unconsciousness.

When I awoke, I was lying on my side, spooned against Qui-Gon's back, my arms holding him as if I'd never let him go. The realization of what we'd done hit me. I had to hand it to him. He was good. He hadn't just been content to have me. He'd made me do the taking.

Shame washed over me as I pulled away from him, then climbed over his body to get out of the bed. "Obi-Wan?" He sounded as though he was still half-asleep. I didn't answer. Instead, I slammed shields down on the link between us so tight not even a hint of our original training bond leaked through. That should be enough to tell him I did not want to talk to him.

If it wasn't, then my hasty departure to the bedroom compartment and the locked door there would do the trick. I heard him come to the door, but he didn't try to open it, and he didn't try to reach me. After a moment, he went back toward the cockpit.

When he was gone, I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, my mind racing to make sense of what had happened. How could I have given in so easily? It is true that as human beings, our desires often overrule our good sense, but as Jedi we were supposed to be able to control that. Not that I'd ever really had that ability when it came to Qui-Gon before, but my anger should have helped my resolve.

Anger. Passion. Fear. All things that, as Jedi, we should not give in to. And I'd given in to all three with him. I needed to purge those emotions from my mind. I needed to cloak myself in calm.

I need. Memories from the night before came back in a heated rush. No. I would not give in. Not after he'd deliberately seduced me against my will and my better judgment, just because he needed. Was that all he could think about? Had his need been so strong he didn't care what I wanted or needed?

I could possibly find out. It would mean intentionally bringing back the memories, but at least I might have a better idea why he'd done what he'd done. With an effort, I closed my eyes and centered myself, focusing on the emotions of the night before, sorting his out from mine.

He'd wanted me. That much I'd already figured out. The dream had terrified him--had been terrifying him for months, in fact. That one surprised me. I hadn't realized he'd been having nightmares that long, or that the ones I had witnessed had been the same as this one.

I put that aside to think about later and went back to sorting our thoughts. Love. He'd been hoping to remind me of the love we'd shared before. An understandable wish, but I couldn't really condone the method. Even if I could feel his despair at not being able to get through to me any other way, as well as his fear of losing me forever.

Trust. He wanted to prove that he trusted me? His actions played out in my mind again, how he turned over and offered himself to me, something you don't do without a great deal of trust in the other person, and for the first time, I felt my resolve crack a little. Sex without love happens all the time. Sex without trust, like that, rarely happens at all.

So he trusted me to screw him. Fine. Where had his trust been when he'd woken up on Naboo. Weak and injured and unable to fight the Council, I suspected. But after he'd gotten stronger he still hadn't trusted me enough to seek me out.

"I found you; what makes you think others can't?"

"I don't want them to find me."

Our conversation back in Sono. So he had led me to him once he'd felt me on his trail. Once I'd gotten close enough to his location that he could reach me somehow.

I flopped over onto my stomach, fighting the urge to listen to logic induced by a seduction. So I understood his reasons better now. That didn't make his method right. I was fairly certain I could at least begin to forgive him for letting me think he was dead. But now I had to forgive him for forcing me into something I wasn't ready to face as well. I wasn't sure how to do that, and I wasn't ready to try yet either.

The ship jerked suddenly, dragging me out of my thoughts. Warning alarms began to sound. I threw on a pair of pants, tugging on my tunic as I ran to the cockpit, almost glad for the distraction. Qui-Gon relinquished the pilot's seat to me when I arrived, moving to the co-pilot seat in silence.

"What happened?" I asked as I checked the instruments, looking for the cause of the problem.

"I'm not sure. It lurched, and then the alarms went off."

"That's helpful," I muttered as I checked the panels again. I wondered for a moment if he'd done something intentionally just to get me back up here. I wouldn't put it past him. If he had....

A reading on one of the panels caught my attention. "Some kind of impact on the bottom of the ship," I explained. "Probably a small meteor or something. Nothing serious, though there might be a nice dent there now."

I sat back, letting the adrenaline flow out of me now that the crisis was over. So he hadn't done anything underhanded to get to me. This time. The fact that I'd thought of it almost immediately just drove my point home. I didn't trust him. And I wouldn't trust him again unless I gave him time to prove I could. Which involved a certain amount of trust all on its own.

I looked at the man sitting next to me, watching me silently. He was either unable to find words, or unwilling to say them in case they were the wrong ones. Not that anything he said would matter right now. I couldn't trust him even that much, yet. The hurt was still too deep. But so was the love I felt for him. And I knew how it felt to live without that. So the trust would have to come. Somehow, I'd have to find a way.

It took him about a day to try talking to me again. I'd stayed awake, lying on the other cockpit bed and waiting until the nightmare started. When it began, I quieted it instantly and avoided having to wake him. Then we'd both slept through the rest of the night.

But now we were both awake. "Obi-Wan?"

I turned to look at him, making it clear I wasn't open for any kind of discussion.

"We should talk about what happened."

"No. We shouldn't." I went back to staring at the control panel in front of me, making a show of checking gauges and readings.

"Sooner or later you're going to have to talk to me about this."

I swiveled around in the chair. "No, I'm not. I have to protect you. I have to get you to our destination safely. I don't have to talk to you, listen to you, or even like you."

He flinched. I was surprised--he used to be able to read me so well, I would have expected him to realize I needed time. He finally seemed to understand, as he rose and left the cockpit without another word.

My initial realization that I had to forgive him had been rejected and realized again countless times in the last day. Logically, I should forgive him. He had his duty to the Jedi.

Emotions, however, don't listen to logic. He lied to me. He hid himself from me for a year. Then, when I had every right to be upset, instead of giving me time, he seduced me. I almost hated him for that. And I hated myself for giving in. I let my emotions, my desire, my lust overwhelm every shred of good sense. And now I was left with more emotions and less logic than ever. And with the bitter taste of hate.

Hate leads to suffering. Master Yoda was right about that. I was certainly suffering. Anger leads to hate? He was right there too. I was angry. The pull of the Dark Side was becoming more understandable. There was power in anger. I could cut myself off from pain and simply let the emotion flow through me.

Definitely not what I wanted to do. No matter how strong the call was. I closed my eyes and focused on Yoda's teachings. Fear leads to anger. I was angry because I was afraid. But of what? I wasn't afraid of Qui-Gon. Well, not exactly. He'd hurt me. And if I let him, he could very well do it again. He'd denied me his trust. He'd made me suffer through a pain the likes of which I never hoped to see again.

And if I let him back in my life, I would very likely see that pain all over again. Now that I knew how it felt, I wondered if it was worth it.

Images and sensations from the night before ran through my mind before I could stop them, followed by memories from times before Naboo. Perhaps it was worth it. Even so, I wasn't sure I could risk it again. Especially not with someone I wasn't sure could trust me. Someone I wasn't sure I could trust.

I sighed heavily, sick of being in such a state of indecision, and apparently powerless to do anything about it. The comm signal grabbed my attention away from my problems. Only two people knew how to reach us. "Yes?" I responded, masking my voice.

"Obi-Wan."

"Master Yoda. Problems?"

"Return to Coruscant, you must. Discovered, Qui-Gon has been."

Sith. "Understood."

I closed off the link and turned to the controls, setting a new course as I called over my shoulder to Qui-Gon. A moment later, he appeared. "What's wrong?"

"There's been a change in plans."

We were less than a day from Coruscant when trouble hit. Or, more accurately, the attack hit. I was still debating my problems when the proximity alarm sounded. A ship was too close, and we would be detected if we did not alter course.

As I changed the headings, Qui-Gon joined me in the cockpit, sitting down in the co-pilot seat without a word. The other ship started to head away from us, then altered its own course and aimed toward us again. "I have a bad feeling about this." I sensed something wrong about the ship itself. With a bit more concentration, I figured out what it was. Darkness.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "Dark," he confirmed. "After me."

"We don't know that." He frowned at me. "It is possible, I suppose." Likely, but I didn't want to admit it. I'd meditate on what that meant in the scheme of the rest of my emotions later.

I changed course two more times, and both times we were followed. "It's no use. They've a faster ship and some kind of radar honed in on us."

Qui-Gon looked at me again. "If someone had killed my apprentice, I'd find a way to zero in on his location too."

I shivered at the underlying steel in his tone. "You think he's after me?"

"I think he's after us both. And he's going to catch us."

I checked the screen. He was indeed closing in. "We haven't much time. What are our options?"

"Play bait, or head for the nearest planet. The atmosphere might give us enough protection from their feel of the Force to head out the other side with a different course without being detected."

A stopgap measure that would buy us a little time at best. If it worked. And also our only option. I had been hoping he'd come up with something I hadn't thought of. No such luck. "Hang on, it's going to be a bumpy ride," I said as I forced our ship downward sharply. Within a minute we began to enter the planet's atmosphere. I pulled back on the controls to level us out, but nothing happened.

"The gas levels in this atmosphere are much heavier than the readings indicated. Something must be wrong with the equipment."

"Or the reading was tampered with to deliberately mislead us."

The Sith. "It would take a great deal of power with the Force to manage all of this. And he has not had time to fully train a new apprentice. He could be on board."

"If the new apprentice had already had some training, he might be able to summon this much strength in the Force. The Dark is stronger, but harder to control."

"I could use some strength and some control right about now," I muttered, still unable to level out the ship.

Qui-Gon grabbed the other set of controls and pulled with me, both physically and with the Force, but to no avail. "It's no use," I said finally, although it wasn't really necessary. The rapidly approaching ground said it all. "Brace yourself for a crash."

We both stopped pulling long enough to strap ourselves in before pulling back on the controls again, attempting to give ourselves time to slow before the impact. Too soon, however, the ground won out. I felt a solid thud and heard the sounds of screeching metal a second before I felt the back of my head impact with something solid. And then everything went black.

I awoke to the smell of smoke and dust. My eyes watered as I opened them, but after a few blinks, my vision cleared. Not that there was anything I wanted to see. The ship was a mess. Through the smoke I could see various lights blinking on the console. The sound of alarms heartened me a bit; if they were going off, then at least we had some power to work with.

"Qui-Gon?" No answer. I turned my head to see him slumped over the steering controls. I fumbled with the seat belt, finally getting it loose, and dropped to my knees next to the co-pilot seat. As I pushed his hair back from his face, I felt a sticky wetness. Even before I'd processed what it must be, I saw the red stain on my hands. Blood.

Fighting a sudden surge of terror unlike any I'd had since the battle with the Sith apprentice, I checked for a pulse. Only after I found it did I realize I'd never lost his presence in my mind. I'd have known he was alive if I hadn't been too afraid to realize it.

I put the emotional reactions away and eased Qui-Gon back until he was sitting upright in the seat. The blood originated from a large gash on the left side of his head. Judging from the amount of blood, and the fact that it had started to dry, we must have both been out for some time. More than enough time for the Sith to have found us and done as he pleased.

So he was out to distract us. Not kill us. At least not yet. That was somewhat comforting. It meant I could concentrate on giving Qui-Gon medical attention instead of worrying first and foremost about defending us from attack. I called his name again, but there was still no answer. I closed my eyes and followed our bond, relieved to find his presence there at the other end--faint, but there.

The contents of the cabinets had been strewn across the floor during the crash. I searched through the mess until I found the med kit. Apparently it hadn't been stocked before the ship was sold, or even for some time before that. Still, it had a few sealed packs of antiseptic cloths, and some sterile bandages if I needed them. I cleaned the cut carefully, not wanting to seal it closed with anything inside that could cause infection. I wasn't a healer. I didn't know how well I could perform the task, so I wasn't taking any chances.

The cut clean, I threw the cloth aside and touched the jagged rip in his temple. I closed my eyes and focused all my energy on knitting the skin back together. A few moments later I let out a deep breath and looked up to see how I'd done.

The skin was still pink, and I thought there might be a scar if he didn't get to a real healer soon, but the cut was closed. That was enough for now. Unfortunately, I didn't know how to do anything else for him. He needed someone who could search his mind and figure out why he was still unconscious. My healing skills didn't go that far.

I moved him to the one bed still intact in the cockpit area, then tested the comm equipment. Master Yoda answered in seconds. I explained the situation, and he promised help would arrive soon. Soon being in about a day, of course. It would take that long to get someone there from Coruscant, and given the delicacy of the situation, all of the Jedi qualified to handle it were there at the Temple.

With a sigh, I turned to look at Qui-Gon. I would simply have to do everything possible to make sure he survived until help arrived. There was nothing else I could do.

I checked the power supply and found we'd have enough to support the homing beacon and comm system, with a little for shields in case they were needed. But only if we cut life support systems to a minimum. That meant no heat, and nights on C'hoara were rather cold. I looked at the ruined bunk across from Qui-Gon. The rest of the ship was a mess as well. Looked like it was either share his bunk, or sleep on the floor anyway. Lack of heat made the decision for me.

Three extra blankets had been in the cabinet. They'd fallen out when we crashed, so I dug them out of the mess and unfolded them. I moved Qui-Gon as close to the wall as I could before climbing onto the bed, lying down and pulling my robe over both of us. Then I layered the blankets over us one by one. When I had them sufficiently tucked in, I pulled my arms in from the already chilly air and burrowed under the covers.

My body was touching Qui-Gon's, but I stopped short of actually holding him. My emotions had been turned off while I was dealing with the problems from the crash, but now that I had nothing left to do but wait, they attempted to take over. I was too tired, so I shut them off, or at least quieted them to a dull roar, and closed my eyes. I needed sleep if I was going to be of any use should something happen. I had to focus only on survival.

I could think about the rest later. For now...I tuned part of my brain into the bond to be sure I'd wake if Qui-Gon needed me, then made myself sleep.

I awoke some time during the night. For a moment, I wondered why I couldn't move, then I realized the answer. One of Qui-Gon's legs was practically pinning both of mine to the bunk, and his right hand had a death grip on my hair. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He was no longer out completely; he was just sleeping.

Unfortunately, so were both of my legs. I tried to extrecate them from his without waking him, but it only resulted in a tighter grasp on my hair. I couldn't help the sharp intake of breath as his hold on my hair began to sting, or the instinctive jerking motion as I tried to get away.

He didn't let go, but he loosened his hold and blinked a few times, then his eyes focused in on me. "Obi-Wan?" He winced, feeling the pain in his head, I assumed. His eyes closed again, and I felt stirrings in the Force. After a moment, he looked at me again, less pain clouding his eyes this time. "What happened?"

"We crashed," I said. The words sounded loud in the silent ship, especially when our faces were inches apart. I lowered my voice to a near whisper. "We're on C'hoara. Help is on the way, but they won't be here for hours yet."

"My head...."

"You hit it when we crashed. There was a cut, but I managed to heal it. I couldn't wake you up, though."

He closed his eyes for endless seconds before opening them again. "Thank you."

I shook my head, almost mesmerized by the blue eyes I hadn't been entirely sure I'd see again. "I did what was needed."

"For me. Thank you."

As if I would have let him die simply because I was mad at him? I took a deep breath. He knew better. "You're welcome. Now go back to sleep," I added as I closed my eyes.

He was silent for several minutes. Then, "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes?"

"Forgive me?"

I opened my eyes. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Please?"

With an extreme effort, I managed to curb the rising irritation I felt. He was sick. And he was probably miserable. He was not trying to manipulate me. "We'll talk about it later."

I could tell he wanted to insist, but it apparently dawned on him that I didn't want to talk about it. So he gave a short nod, winced, and let his eyelids drift down again.

"Qui-Gon?"

"Hmm?" he responded without opening his eyes.

"I'm glad I was here to help."

He didn't answer, but his mouth turned up at the corners, and the leg pinning me down settled itself into a more comfortable position wedged between my two legs. I didn't argue; I just drifted off to sleep.

~I was back on Naboo, inside the power generator, watching helplessly as the Sith's lightsaber went straight through my master. I felt the pain, the rage, and then the laser gate went down and I charged. I knew nothing but the red haze of anger until I ended up hanging in the pit. My mind raced to find a way to end this. I needed two things: to kill the Sith and to save my master. Neither was going to be easy while I was hanging on for my life with no lightsaber.

But I did have a lightsaber. With a strength in the Force I hadn't known I'd possessed, I called my master's weapon to my hand, flew out of the pit, and sliced the Sith in two. I even felt a moment's pleasure as both halves tumbled down through the pit and out of sight.

Then I remembered my second problem. I ran over to my master, pulled him into my arms, and promised anything he wanted, anything to make him hang on. But he didn't. The pain that ripped through me as I felt his life force slipping away was unlike anything I'd ever felt. Nothing before or since has come close, and I hope it never does. I tried to save him, to bring him back, but ended up unconscious and woke up without hope. He was gone.~

A sharp cry woke me. It took me a moment to realize that I was the one who'd cried out. Qui-Gon stirred, but I sent him back to sleep with a touch of the Force. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, the warm, heavy and very much alive body of my former master pinning me to the bunk. For the first time since I'd discovered he was alive, his presence was a comfort. Losing him had been unbearable. Giving him up because of fear was unthinkable.

I knew I could forgive him. He'd done his duty as befits a Jedi, and I'd sensed the pain it had caused him to hide from me. Trusting him again, however, was a different story. I didn't know how. But now, more than ever, I was certain I had to find a way. Time supposedly healed all. We would see.

Qui-Gon slept most of the day until Mace Windu arrived to rescue us. The healers whisked Qui-Gon off to the med bay, so I joined Master Windu in the ship's small common room. "What happened?" I asked. "How was he discovered?"

"We still don't know. We intercepted a transmission from an unidentified source that had information on Qui-Gon's location on Taleux, down to the room he was in. The source was on Coruscant, but we haven't even been able to pinpoint where, nor have we been able to figure out who recieved it."

I sank down onto a bench. "This is because I went to see him, isn't it?"

"No. The transmission came two days before you went to Sono."

"They knew all that time and did nothing until--you wanted him moved because of the transmission, didn't you?" Master Windu nodded. "And you didn't tell us of the danger?"

"You knew there could be danger if he was discovered."

"But we didn't know they knew he was alive. Or that they knew where we were coming from. Does the Council have a death wish for us?"

Master Windu shook his head. "The Council thought it was best if you did not know about this until we could tell you in person."

"The Council thought?" I laughed. At that moment I didn't care if they asked for my lightsaber right then and there. "The Council thought keeping Qui-Gon's survival from me was a good idea, and look where that led. The Council thought that training Anakin was a bad idea, until he proved himself by singlehandedly winning the war against the Trade Federation. With all due respect, Master, perhaps the Council isn't thinking hard enough." Or at all, I thought, but I knew better than to go that far.

His frown would have frightened any Padawan and most Knights among the Jedi who hadn't witnessed the anger of Qui-Gon Jinn through the years. "You overstep your bounds, Kenobi."

"Do I? My apologies, Master; however, having been repeatedly abused due to the Council's decisions for over a year, I feel somewhat justified in questioning them."

Before he could respond, Qui-Gon entered the room. "I'd like to add my own objections to several of the Council's decisions myself."

Master Windu sighed and shook his head. "We'll talk about this when the entire Council is present."

"When?" I asked.

"As soon as we land."

As if I didn't have other things to attend to? "I must speak to my Padawan first."

After a moment, he nodded. "Very well, then. Speak to your Padawan, then report to the Council chambers."

He headed for the cockpit, leaving me alone with Qui-Gon. "How's your head?"

"The healer says it's fine, and that you're to be commended for your repair work."

I shrugged. "I had no idea if I'd done all that needed to be done, I just knew it needed to be closed before you bled to death."

"Thank you."

The words were soft, but deeply spoken, as if they came from a place inside him he hadn't seen in a while. "You're welcome," I answered softly. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but remained silent. After a moment, I started for the cockpit myself, anxious to find out when we would be back on Coruscant. And how much time I would have to figure out what to say to my Padawan.

By the time we arrived at the Temple, I had decided to just tell Anakin the truth and let things sort themselves out. His shock at learning of Qui-Gon's survival was so great I had to shield it from the rest of the Temple to avoid complaints later. A moment later, I shielded the pain he felt at not being trusted with the secret. I understood that pain all too well, and I'd only had one person I truly felt betrayed my trust. Anakin had both a master and an idol to deal with.

"I am sorry, Padawan, that I could not tell you before."

"It's okay. You did what you had to do. You both did. Duty first, right?"

His tone belied the understanding words. "Anakin...there is no shame in being upset or angry. The problem is when you deny or hide those feelings."

"I didn't say I was happy about not knowing," he amended. "But he had to be safe, right? Besides, he's alive. I'd rather be lied to and have him alive than...."

He didn't have to finish; I knew what he meant. "I feel the same." And I did. I just wasn't sure how to go from there to trusting him completely. Once again, my emotions and logic were in complete disagreement. I held out a spark of hope that the two would work things out. After all, a week ago I would never have thought I could forgive my former Master, yet I did. Surely trust would rebuild.

All it needed was a little time.

A little time turned out to be about a month. Qui-Gon moved into quarters just down the hall from those occupied by myself and Anakin. He began spending more and more time in our rooms, however, joining us there when he'd finished teaching for the day, and remaining till Anakin's bedtime. Not a surprising turn of events. Even if we hadn't been there, the quarters used to belong to us when we were Master and Apprentice, therefore he felt more at home there than in his own assigned rooms. And having both of us around made Anakin feel better about what had happened. It was important that he knew we cared about him.

After all my soul-searching attempts to find a way to trust Qui-Gon again, I barely noticed when the trust started to return. Anakin had just gone off to bed, and Qui-Gon was at the door, ready to leave. He'd forgotten his datapad by the couch, so I brought it to him, and when I looked up into his eyes, something fell into place. He leaned down to kiss me, and I let him. It was the first time since I woke him from the nightmare.

After a short, almost chaste kiss, he pulled away, but he didn't get far. I reached up and pulled on his neck, bringing his lips back down to mine. He insisted on leaving soon after--whether from fear he would ravish me or I would ravish him I'm still not sure. But I knew then that I'd trusted him not to push me into anything, no matter what his fears might have been.

For a week after that we danced around the growing frustration. He refused to take it any further than a few kisses, and aside from dragging him into my room and throwing him on the bed, I wasn't sure how to force the issue. Finally I'd had enough. If I had to throw him on the bed, so be it. But I thought I might try a little romance first.

He arrived five minutes after his last class ended, puncutal as ever. When he walked in and saw candles and a table set for two, he almost forgot to close the door. Or perhaps he was thinking of escaping first. Before he could do either, I took the decision from him and closed it myself.

"Dinner?" I asked, steering him away from the door and toward the table, just in case he didn't realize it wasn't really a question.

"I...Obi-Wan...." He turned, effectively cutting of my ability to guide him, and looked down at me as if searching for something.

"What is it?" If he had objections, it was best to get them out of the way now.

He hesitated for a moment. "Let's sit down," he said finally, leading me to the couch. "I'm not sure how else to tell you this...Dara Stahn disappeared about six weeks ago."

"Six weeks? Why haven't we heard before now?"

"Her master followed her trail immediately, but it took him two weeks just to get close enough to get a sense of what was happening."

He wasn't telling me the whole story. "Did the Sith kidnap her? Is that how they found out where you were?" He remained silent, but suddenly I knew. The answer was there in his eyes. "The new apprentice...Dara. That would explain her reasons for telling me about you. She led me right to you and threw both of us together so they could get us out of the way."

"I believe so, yes."

"But why? Why not just kill us? It would be less involved and the effect would be more permanent."

"And the entire Jedi would be out for blood."

I shook my head. "Still, why distract us? What were they doing that we needed to be elsewhere for?"

"The master seeks a new apprentice," Qui-Gon answered.

We'd covered that already. "Right. Dara."

"For now, yes. However, Dara is a healer. She has power in the Force, but it will only extend so far, even if she taps into the Dark side."

"I still don't understand what that has to do with...of course. Anakin." All the Jedi calming techniques in the galaxy couldn't keep my heart from speeding up at the thought. "You think he wants Anakin."

"When the time is right, yes. In the meantime, sowing seeds of mistrust, distracting us and causing emotional turmoil in the bond between you and your apprentice--these are all things that would serve the Sith well if he were to come back for Anakin in a few years."

I nodded slowly, only now starting to comprehend the amount of patience and planning that would take. "Such a strong Force adept trained by the Jedi Temple for years would be quite a power to be reckoned with, should he be turned." The mere thought of it made me shudder.

Qui-Gon raised a hand to my cheek, caressing it in a comforting gesture. I suddenly remembered my reasons for sending Anakin to stay with Master Yoda for the evening. The revelations hadn't changed those desires; if anything, they had increased. Anakin would be safe and happy with Yoda. Tomorrow I would worry about the implications of the Sith's plan. Tonight I wanted to forget.

And to remember. I turned my head, placing a kiss into Qui-Gon's palm. "Obi-Wan...."

"Shhh." I reached up and took his hand from my face, our fingers entwining as our hands lowered. "Tomorrow. We'll worry about it tomorrow."

"I'm not sure this is the best way to deal with the problem."

"Qui-Gon, did you not notice the candles and dinner when you came in?"

"Yes, but--"

I cut him off with a smile. "I'd intended to seduce you. I don't see why I should change those plans. Tomorrow will be soon enough to deal with plans that are years from fruition, and may never work at all."

"And tonight?" he asked, his mouth inches from mine.

"Tonight, I need...."

"You need what?"

"I need." I captured his lips, ending the discussion. Through our bond, I felt the worry over the Sith's future plans fade as rising desire took its place. We could lose sleep over impending doom tomorrow. Tonight we would lose sleep in far more pleasurable pursuits.

He gave up trying to reason his way out of this, as if he'd suddenly realized he was being handed what he wanted and it was best to just take it. A moment before, I'd been doing all the seducing, but now he took over with a vengance. I found myself lying on the couch in seconds without a clue as to how I'd gotten there. Somewhere along the way my tunic had disappeared, and my boots and trousers were gone seconds after I felt the cool fabric of the couch on my back.

Qui-Gon moved away from me, but before I could even wonder where he'd gone, he was back, his bare skin sliding against mine as he claimed my mouth. The strength of emotion flowing across our bond was overwhelming, but to have it matched with such a physical possession was truly amazing. After two attempts to gain the upper hand, I gave up and let go, content just to enjoy the ride.

His lips seemed to be almost everywhere, and the areas they didn't reach his hands did. I was dimly aware of hitting my head on the couch when he bit into a particularly sensitive spot on my neck, but I didn't care. He took his time getting to the one place his attentions were having the most effect on, but when he did...it was like being swallowed by a volcano. Moist heat surrounded me, and I could swear I heard a fire roaring in my ears. It was all over too soon. I felt his release through the bond while his mouth was still on me, the combination enough to set me off as well.

Ages later I came back to myself. A more peaceful, happy version of myself. Qui-Gon was lying on top of me, his breath warm against my neck, acting as if he never intended to move. That was fine with me.

As if he caught that thought, he stirred, kissing my neck before sliding to my side. I shivered as the cold air hit me, but I was immediately warmed as he pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and covered us both. "Better?"

I nodded, my forhead rubbing against his chest. I wasn't sure I wanted to look up, to see what was in his eyes, but I knew I had to. So I leaned back, careful not to fall off the couch, and smiled up at him.

Blue. Clearly my higher brain functions had not returned. Yes, they were blue. And calm, and happy, and...guarded. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"That's what I asked."

I thought he might pretend he didn't understand, but after a moment, he sighed. "I...it's been a long time since I've felt this good. I keep expecting it to end. Or to wake up."

Part of me felt guilty for adding to his pain by taking my time, but I quickly accepted the guilt and released it. I couldn't have done anything differently, not if we were to be honest with each other. And with such a strong bond, we had no choice but to be honest. "I'm sorry. If I could have suddenly rebuilt our trust...."

"It's not your fault."

"Nor is it yours."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "It just is."

"Was." I lifted his hand and brought it to my mouth, kissing each finger. "And now...."

"And now?" He smiled as he laced his fingers with mine. "What now?"

"Isn't this enough?"

He considered his answer carefully. "I'm not sure anything would ever be 'enough.' But I'll be content with anything I get, since it's more than I would have had if you hadn't saved me."

"Let's not talk about that right now."

"I agree. Not everything needs to be dealt with at once."

I sighed. "Except Anakin. We should talk to him. Tell him what happened with Dara and the Sith."

"Anakin is fine where he is for tonight. If I know my Master, he has the boy sitting at his feet, completely enthralled with a story by now."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to let him be a regular Padawan for one more night before throwing more Chosen One burdens on his shoulders. He'll need as many good memories as he can get to make it through what's to come."

A smile played across his features. "As will we," he added, leaning down to kiss me.

I pulled back before he could reach my lips. "You never actually answered my question. Is this enough? For now?"

"If it involves you in my life," he said softly, "it's enough."

Satisfied with his answer, I closed the distance, capturing his mouth. We were not the same people we had been when our relationship started. We were equals, or at least more equal than before, and we had time to take this slowly. To savor it. And to build a foundation. And for now that was enough for us both.

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