Warnings: m/m, AU, non-consensual (but not graphic), angst
Spoilers: None. Takes place before TPM
Summary: As Obi-Wan reaches his majority, both he and his
Master look forward to completing their as-yet undiscussed soul
bond.
Series/Sequels: none
Disclaimer: "Star Wars: the Phantom Menace" and its characters
belong to George Lucas. This story was writing purely for
entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is
intended.
Feedback: Comments welcome at julfor_c@yahoo.com
They hadn't talked about it, not really. Not with words anyway.
Obi-Wan had tried --- exactly once. He had been seventeen and
his body was ripe with yearnings he couldn't put into words.
Couldn't define. But even then, he hadn't needed words or
definitions to know that his longing was centered around his
Master, Qui-Gon Jinn. He'd made the one halting attempt to
speak of his desire, but Qui-Gon had silenced him by placing
one large finger gently against the padawan's lips. "Shhh,
Obi," the Jedi Master had said. "Everything to its season."
Which had been poetic, to be sure, but such an abstract
utterance had done little to reassure a young man in the
confusion brought on by raging adolescent hormones..... and
something else.
The next day, young Obi had tried furiously to sweat the
longing out of his body by doing a series of increasingly
difficult katas. All he achieved was a set of sore and
aggrieved muscles that insisted on screaming at him all the way
back to the quarters he'd shared with his Master. A hot shower
had put him marginally back in his body's good graces and when
the weary apprentice had finally deposited himself on his bed,
he was surprised to find a datapad waiting for him there.
One that was cued up to the fascinating subject of soul bonds.
Several hours and much frantic reading later, he had his
answers. The reason that Obi-Wan Kenobi had been tormented all
his life by feeling as though he wasn't complete was because...
he wasn't. Obi-Wan was one of the rare souls that, while whole
on its own, somehow knew that it could be much more if bonded
to its mate. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Such knitted
souls were rare, even among Jedi.
Obi-Wan suspected that he knew who the other half of his soul
was.
He suspected that Qui-Gon knew it too. The knowledgeable Jedi
Master had probably been aware of their connection long before
his lowly padawan had. Unfortunately, the information on the
datapad had also made it clear that a Jedi Master was prevented
from discussing such things with his/her own student until said
apprentice was two years past legal majority. Only then, it was
surmised, would a padawan be of sufficient maturity to make a
wise choice regarding physical intimacy. The reason behind his
teacher's reaction to Obi-Wan's earlier attempt at articulating
desire was now understandable. Even by leaving the datapad,
Qui-Gon had bent the rules in order to educate his student.
Remembering that tumultuous time, Obi-Wan grinned as he rolled
over in bed. Qui-Gon? Bending the rules? Perish the thought!
Even Qui-Gon, however, hadn't been iconoclast enough to go
further in circumventing Jedi tradition. So the next three
years had been an exercise in control, every minute spent in
his Master's presence tantalizingly sweet even as he was
tormented by the prohibition to give into his body's desires.
Just when Obi-Wan would think he would go mad with frustration,
he would catch a glimpse of his craving reflected in Qui-Gon's
eyes. The young man knew that he should feel remorse at the
other's pain, but was instead comforted in the knowledge that
he did not suffer alone. That, despite Qui-Gon's added years
and experience, the older man felt the draw of the incomplete
bond too.
As Obi's physical body matured, so did his skill with the
Force. There were even times when the young man could see his
incomplete soul bond. When he meditated at a particularly deep
level, he became aware of the silver cord that represented it
and, occasionally, he fancied that he could feel the incomplete
and forlorn bond pulse with need.
Just like certain parts of his body pulsed with unfulfilled
need.
This morning's dawn had brought the twentieth anniversary of
Obi- Wan's birth and an end to the waiting. The young man gave
up his mental meanderings and hopped out of bed --he fully
intended on starting out his birthday by pouncing his master.
To his disgust, however, he soon realized that he'd awakened
later than usual. To add insult to injury, their quarters were
empty.
"The morning is yours," a note left on the table by his Master
read. "Don't forget your afternoon lessons with Master Windu."
Great. Afternoon lessons with Mace Windu. Not exactly how he'd
hoped to while away the time on this momentous birthday.
Obi-Wan did his best not to feel disappointed. Knowing at an
early age that a soul bond, and all of its promised physical
intimacies, awaited him, the young padawan had eschewed all
lesser physical liaisons. It hadn't been easy, but a lot of
meditations, time in cold showers, and.... hand work had helped
him get by. Still, his body hungered badly for release and he'd
planned on satisfying that hunger this morning by feasting on a
Qui-Gon buffet.
"Whatever you're doing, Master," he muttered under his breath
as he turned to get dressed, "I hope it's worth it."
Qui-Gon felt his padawan's frustration through their shared
master/apprentice bond and grimaced in sympathy. It hadn't been
easy leaving him this morning. The Jedi master had contrived to
wake particularly early and had immediately gone to Obi-Wan's
adjoining bedroom. Not, as had been his fantasy for years, to
cement their bond physically. Rather, he crept into the young
man's sleeping chamber, placed a hand on his student's
forehead, and deepened the padawan's slumber. Only after he'd
insured that Obi-Wan wouldn't wake up just yet, had Qui-Gon
stood back and studied his apprentice. The young man was quite
a picture, skin all golden as Coruscant's dawn light kissed his
lean frame, legs tangled up in the sheets, hair mussed from
sleeping. It was all the Jedi master could do to not take him
then and there.
"Where is your vaunted patience now, Master Jinn?" He whispered
to himself as he turned away.
A promise, after all, was a promise.
Two days ago, Obi's friend, Bant, had accosted Qui-Gon in the
temple corridor. The young woman was breathless with plans for
a surprise party and Qui-Gon had reluctantly agreed to help get
Obi- Wan to the appointed place at the appointed time. The Jedi
were supposed to be humble and self-effacing, but there would
be time enough for all of that later on. Let Obi-Wan enjoy the
attention while it was offered.
Which explained why Qui-Gon had been forced to skulk out of his
own quarters. He'd had distinctly different plans for his
padawan that day and, even though the party was scheduled for
early evening, Qui-Gon's arrangements would have to wait. He
couldn't very well tell Bant that, he'd failed to lure Obi-Wan
to the party as promised because he had been occupied by loving
the young man into a melted puddle of padawan goo.
And then flipping him over and doing it all again.
So, Qui-Gon hastily donned his robes, combed his hair instead
of pulling it out in frustration, and left their quarters in
search of means to occupy himself for the rest of the long,
long day.
With the possible exception of the party's honoree and his
master, everyone enjoyed Obi-Wan's birthday celebration.
Had young Kenobi been paying attention, he might have wondered
how Bant, who although a terrific friend was as broke as any
other padawan, could afford all of the lavish refreshments.
But, the birthday boy only had eyes for his master. Had Qui-Gon
been aware of anything other than the lush promise in his
apprentice's smouldering eyes, he might have felt a tense
undercurrent to the Force.
Obi-Wan took another sip of from his mug of beer, the very best
sweetbrew imported from Alderan. Catching his master staring at
him from across the room, the padawan deliberately ran his
tongue across his upper lip, slowing licking at the froth left
behind by his drink. Qui-Gon looked away from the spectacle to
readjust his robes. After he'd regained a measure of composure,
the Jedi master ventured another glance towards his apprentice.
This time, Obi-Wan was maneuvering a slice of Bardodian peach
into his mouth, his blue-green eyes dancing with mischief as he
slid the moist tidbit slowly in-between his lips.
Enough.
Qui-Gon motioned towards the door with his head and
surreptitiously held up five fingers. Seeing Obi nod in
agreement, the bigger man made his way towards the door. Soul
mates could communicate mind-to-mind, a talent that would be
most useful in certain situations.
But it wasn't vocal intercourse on Qui-Gon's mind right at that
moment.
Obi-Wan hurried down the temple corridor towards the sleeping
quarters, the siren call of the soon-to-be-completed bond
urging him to hasten. The last three hours had been infinitely
more taxing than the previous three years. When Qui-Gon had
shown up after Obi-Wan's training bout with Mace Windu, the
young apprentice had wanted to howl with frustration when his
master had suggested that they take their evening meal in the
dining hall.
The wonder of having a party thrown in his honor had
eased that irritation a bit, but only temporarily. There were
thousands of sentient species in the universe and each of them
had their own version of Hell. Obi-Wan Kenobi soon revised his
own personal vision of it to include parties that went on and
on and on.....
Obi-Wan reached the juncture where the public facilities of the
temple joined the private Jedi quarters. As he turned to the
hallway that would take him to the rooms he shared with his
master, he felt a distinct tug on his senses. The young man
stopped for a moment and then grinned when he realized that the
tendril of awareness came from the nearby gardens. He'd always
imagined his first tryst with Qui-Gon as taking place in the
sanctity of the older man's bed. It figured, though, that a
non-traditionalist like his master would find a more
adventurous locale for the joining of their bodies and souls.
Changing direction, the padawan headed towards the gardens.
Qui-Gon looked around the room in satisfaction. It was a good
thing he'd made some preparations during Obi-Wan's lessons with
Mace, he would have been too flustered to arrange it properly
tonight. A legion of candles lit his bedroom in a warm glow.
Scented oil was heating discreetly by the bed, which was
festooned with spidersilk sheets.
Now, all he needed was his padawan and they could get started.
The Jedi master knew his apprentice was inexperienced in the
arts of love and the big man resolved to make this experience
as satisfying and joyful as possible for the young man. Smiling
at his own impatience, the like of which he hadn't experienced
in years, Qui-Gon settled down to meditate. Let his Obi enjoy
the party for as long as he'd like. Qui-Gon could wait a few
minutes more.
After all, he'd already been waiting all of his life.
As Obi-Wan neared the garden, he could tell that it had been
damped with a Force shield. The thought of what they would be
doing to need to have their privacy protected in such a manner
made the apprentice shiver with anticipation. He only hoped
that he didn't disappoint Qui-Gon. The older man, after all,
was a lot more experienced than he was. Soul bond or no soul
bond, by definition, a virgin didn't have any previous
encounters to draw on.
The apprentice easily entered the garden, the shield obviously
having been keyed to admit him, and was relieved to hear the
shriek of the soul bond fade. It must have recognized that the
moment had arrived and eased its cries for completion. Obi-Wan
stopped just within the stone archway, giving his eyes a chance
to adjust from the harsh corridor lighting to the soft twilight
that bathed the garden. Seeing a familiar hooded figure on a
nearby bench, Obi- Wan allowed himself to sigh in relief.
Finally.
All of the waiting was over. No more dancing around one
another, desperately wanting to talk of the connection between
them but prevented by Jedi tradition from doing so. Finally,
their bodies would forge a union that would allow the bond
between their souls to connect.
Obi-Wan approached the other man and wrapped his arms around
him from behind. "Master," he said, giving voice to his
longing. "I've been waiting so long for this moment...."
"So have I, my young apprentice, so have I."
Obi-Wan pulled back in shock. That hadn't been Master Qui-Gon's
voice. The seated figure rose and turned, elegant hands pushing
back the hood of the robe to reveal the other man's face.
"Senator Palpatine! I'm sorry, I thought you were someone
else...." Obi's voice trailed off in confusion. He had met the
politician from Naboo once or twice during his work with
Qui-Gon, but he couldn't imagine what the man was doing here.
Now.
"That's quite all right, young one," Palpatine's oily voice did
little to reassure the padawan. "I assure you, I am the person
you've been looking for."
Obi-Wan stumbled back as the uncompleted soul bond within him
quivered. "I.... I don't understand...."
All of the apprentice's grace of movement left him as the robed
figure of Palpatine stalked him. The senator was a plump figure
of a man that spent too much time behind a desk or in committee
meetings. Obi-Wan, with his Jedi training, should have been
able to break him like a twig if he so desired, even if
Palpatine did outweigh the padawan by a good fifty pounds.
Something in the Nubian's eyes, however, frightened the young
man. Something dark..... and hungry.
Palpatine reached for him and Obi-Wan turned to flee. He'd only
managed to falter a step or two away, however, before the
Nubian was on him. With a strength belying his fleshy
appearance, the senator pinned the younger man and then flipped
him so that they were nose to nose. The apprenticed tried to
turn away, but strong hands grip his face, forcing him to look
into Palpatine's eyes.
Slowly and with the attitude of having all the time in the
world, showing the padawan just who was in control of the
situation, the senator leaned in for a kiss. Obi-Wan gagged as
he felt the older man's tongue worm its way past his lips, but,
try as he might, he couldn't get his jaws to clamp down on the
invader. For that matter, he couldn't get his body to obey any
of his commands and his mind gibbered with the need to call out
to Qui-Gon. He tried to reach out to the Jedi Master using the
master/apprentice bond, but was stifled by the Force shield
around the garden.
Palpatine released his captive's mouth in order to trail sloppy
kisses and love bites down the smaller man's neck as his broad
thigh thrust between Obi-Wan's slender legs, giving his better
access to the young man's body. One hand easily held both of
the apprentice's wrists, giving Palpatine a free hand to deal
with their clothing.
As his body was attacked; overwhelmed; and eventually,
penetrated, so was Obi-Wan's mind. The young man retreated from
the physical reality of what was happening to him and focused
inwards. To his horror, the bright and shining cord that had
symbolized his incomplete soul bond with Qui-Gon had instead
become joined with a black, tarry rope. The two cords, one
bright and one dark, merged and intertwined, linking him to the
man callously riding his body.
The soul bond was complete.
"No, no, no," This couldn't be happening. The bond was meant
for Qui-Gon and only Qui-Gon. Not this toad from Naboo.
As the young man sobbed in despair, the older man finished the
coupling and collapsed breathlessly on top of the padawan's
limp body. Seeing Obi-Wan's tears, Palpatine patted his new
soulmate's shoulder.
"Well, that wasn't so bad, pet. Don't cry, child. Now that the
soul bond is complete, we'll never be truly apart."
The senator's voice became colder as he repeated the last bit
for emphasis. "Ever."
Qui-Gon gave up meditating; the inner serenity that usually
came so easily for him just couldn't be found tonight. Where
was Obi? Surely the party wouldn't last this long.....
The Jedi master reached for his student along their
master/apprentice link, but found nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Alarmed, Qui-Gon decided to go look for his errant padawan and
reached for his robe. Just then, a cold draft blew in from the
open window, extinguishing all of the candles that he'd so
carefully arranged earlier.
As the malignant breeze circled the room, Qui-Gon could have
sworn that it laughed at him
Like a disturbance in the Force, Qui-Gon Jinn's quietly
desperate journey through the Jedi temple caused ripples of
concern to wash over its inhabitants. Creche attendants felt a
sudden to need to check on their young charges. Apprentices
inexplicably found themselves reaching out to their Masters for
reassurance. Lovers clutched one another even more tightly than
sweethearts normally did.
Despite years of rigorous training and decades of hard-won
experience, the tall man didn't even realize that his concern
was leaking through his shields and into the Force, coloring
the emotions of those surrounding him. After the malignant gust
of wind had made its chuckling way out of his quarters,
Qui-Gon's alarm over his padawan's tardiness had given way to
un-Jedi like panic. Without really being aware of his actions,
the Master had quickly drawn on his sleep pants and attempted
to follow the strange breeze that had become the only link to
his errant padawan. His hunt was doomed before it even started
-- even Jedi couldn't track the wind.
As he lost hope of pursuing the odd breeze, Qui-Gon resumed his
attempts to reach Obi-Wan through their training bond or
through their as yet uncompleted soul bond. Again and again he
sent his psyche out through the Force to try and touch his
apprentice's mind, to no avail. To his relief, however, he also
didn't sense the sharp sundering that would indicate the young
man's death. That reassured the Jedi Master -- until he
realized that he also wasn't encountering the signs that would
indicate that Obi-Wan was unconscious or even shielding him
out.
Obi-Wan was just....... gone......... as if he'd never existed.
His long strides soon brought Qui-Gon back to the dining hall,
the location of the party and the last place he'd seen his
soon-to-be-lover. Most of the party-goers had left and, judging
by the dimmed lights and soft murmurs coming from the shadows,
those that remained were involved in intimate celebrations of
their own. Qui-Gon called upon the Force and concentrated.
There -- in the furthest corner. Not Obi-Wan, but perhaps a
source of information.
Moving silently, the Jedi Master reached out his long arms and
plucked his target from the arms of her companion.
"Wha--?" Bant blinked up at him in confusion, the liquid cheer
she'd imbibed earlier inhibiting use of the Force to enhance
her vision. Her comrade took one look at Qui-Gon's stony
countenance and fled.
"Where is Obi-Wan?" In his impatience, Qui-Gon started shaking
the young woman. "How long ago did he leave? Where did he go?"
"I -- I don't know! He left shortly after you did." Bant's
voice betrayed her confusion. "We thought........ I mean, we
all knew what Obi had planned for tonight........ what he'd
hoped for....." Her voice trailed off as she realized that,
despite her friendship with Obi-Wan, it wouldn't be prudent to
tell a Jedi Master that it was public knowledge among the
padawan set that his apprentice had planned on seducing him.
As he realized that this avenue of investigation was going to
be useless to him, Qui-Gon felt a wave of despair threaten to
overwhelm him. He tried to tell himself that he was on
Coruscant, in the heart of the Republic, and that no danger
could befall his beloved here. Still, something told the Jedi
Master that he was already too late.............
"Master Jinn, please," the young woman still in his grasp said
with a gasp. "You're hurting me."
With her words, Qui-Gon realized that, in his overwrought
state, that he'd continued to grip Bant harder and harder. It
was a wonder that he hadn't crushed the delicate girl. As
gently as he could, given the circumstances, he released the
female apprentice. "I'm sorry."
Bant briskly rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "It's all
right. Master Jinn, what's wrong? Has something happened to
Obi-Wan?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
Her brow furrowed in concern as Bant tried to reason her way
past the alcohol she'd consumed earlier. "But what could happen
in the Jedi Temple?"
What, indeed?
Qui-Gon was saved from putting words to his half-realized fears
by the entrance of a Temple guard. "Master Jinn? You're wanted
in the Council room." The guard gulped as a set of piercing
blue eyes fixed upon him and he hastened to add an explanation.
"It's about your padawan."
You have to watch the quiet ones.
Mace Windu reminded himself of that old axiom as he watched his
old friend approach. It took a lot to push the quiet ones
beyond their limits, but when you did, well, they tended to do
a lot of damage. Despite his reputation for being unorthodox,
Qui-Gon Jinn was normally the epitome of Jedi serenity. But as
the big man approached, it was obvious to anyone Force
sensitive that his composure was as long gone as a whore's
maidenhead.
And it was going to get worse -- a lot worse -- before it got
any better.
Mace planted himself in the entrance to the Council room. He
owed it to Qui-Gon -- and to Obi-Wan -- to make this as
painless as possible. An impossible task, but surely every
little bit of compassion would count for something.
"Stop, Qui." Mace held up a hand to stop Qui-Gon when it seemed
that the taller man would barrel right over him. "We need to
talk before you go in there."
"What about?" Qui-Gon gritted out between clenched teeth. "All
they would tell me was to report right away and that Obi-Wan
would meet me here."
The dark-skinned Jedi struggled to find the right words.
"Qui....."
"Is he all right? Has there been some sort of dispute over the
bond? I know he's my padawan, Mace, but the Council has known
for years that we're soul-twinned." Qui-Gon loomed over the
slightly smaller Windu. "It's been torture on us both, but
we've waited the requisite time." Qui-Gon's voice gentled a
bit. "You, of all people, know how difficult it's been...."
Mace closed his eyes, being more familiar than he'd like with
the pain waiting for Obi-Wan's majority had caused. "It
is about the bond, old friend, but not the way that you
think...." To his shame, Mace found himself unable to continue.
A Council member, even one as newly appointed as he was, should
be stronger than this.
Qui-Gon saw the grief in his friend's face and pushed past him.
Enough delay; Obi-Wan was to be here. Council be damned, his
bondmate would soon be in his arms. Explanations could wait
until then.
Qui-Gon hastily entered the Council room, eyes quickly scanning
the large space for sight of his padawan. His glance briefly
fell on a knot of gathered Council members, but he quickly
categorized their presence as unimportant and continued his
visual search. For a moment, his eyes were captured by the sad
look in Yoda's ancient gaze but Qui-Gon tore himself free of
even that contact. As much as he loved and respected his old
Master, Obi-Wan was paramount in his heart.
In the end, it wasn't his eyes that found his beloved. Rather,
it was his ears that enabled him to locate the young man. Just
when the tall Jedi Master became convinced that Obi-Wan hadn't
yet arrived in the Council's chamber, he heard the dulcet tones
of his love's refined voice softly saying his name.
The sound was coming from behind the cluster of Jedi Masters
that he'd discounted so quickly before. Two strides from his
long legs and Qui-Gon had reached the group, shouldering
venerable Council members aside in his haste to reach Obi-Wan.
Although they were normally mindful of their dignity, Qui-Gon
received no rebuke as he shoved the most highly ranked Jedi out
of his way as though they were peddlers in a fish market.
Until, finally, the bodies in front of him parted, to reveal
Obi-Wan........
........ held firmly in the embrace of a man Qui-Gon found
vaguely to be familiar.
At first, Qui-Gon was relieved at the visual evidence that his
bondmate was unharmed, despite the vague apprehension the Force
had been feeding him for the past hour. But then the Jedi
Master looked closer and saw the paleness of the young man's
face. Were those tear tracks on his cheeks? As he stepped
towards his padawan, Qui-Gon once again tried to connect
through their training bond but met with stark silence.
"Obi-Wan?" The young man looked uncharacteristically fragile at
the moment and, despite of his worry, Qui-Gon took care to
address his apprentice gently.
Obi-Wan, who had been staring morosely at the floor,
immediately lifted his head upon hearing the familiar voice.
"Master!" The apprentice made a move towards Qui-Gon, but the
other man's arm immediately came around his waist and pulled
him back, trapping the padawan against his side.
"What is the meaning of this?" Qui-Gon growled, stalking
forward. His memory finally had placed a name to the face:
Senator Jusicad Palpatine, from Naboo. A middling bureaucrat
from a small system, Palpatine had never been one to draw much
attention to himself. For the life of him, Qui-Gon couldn't
reason out what the politician was doing with his hands on
Obi-Wan -- but it only took a heartbeat for Qui-Gon to realize
that he didn't like it. Not at all. And, if he read his
padawan's facial expression correctly, Obi was every bit as
unhappy about the touch as his Master was.
As the Jedi Master reached forward, intending on breaking every
finger if necessary to release his soulmate from Palpatine's
embrace, he felt himself hit a soft Force wall. He whirled, to
find that Yoda had approached him from behind.
"Master," Qui-Gon asked of the small green being, who had been
his own Master years ago, "I love you dearly, but if you
continue to keep me from my bondmate, we shall see who is truly
stronger in the Force."
Yoda didn't rise to the implied challenge. Instead, he reached
out a hand to his former padawan. "Bonded Obi-Wan is, Qui-Gon,
but not to you." When Qui-Gon just looked at him in disbelief,
the diminutive creature continued. "Formed a soul bond with
Senator Palpatine, Apprentice Kenobi did." Yoda's ears drooped.
"Unexpected, this is."
"A surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one." Palpatine had kept
one possessive arm around Obi-Wan's waist and, as he spoke, his
hand snaked down to stroke the young man's hip in a proprietary
gesture.
"Obi?" Qui-Gon refused to believe it, not until he'd heard it
from his beloved's lips himself.
The young man tried to meet his Master's gaze, but quickly
blushed and dropped his eyes. "Master, I'm sorry," he whispered
in a voice broken with emotion. "I'm so sorry."
Obi-Wan? Soul bonded to Palpatine?
As ludicrous as the idea sounded, the heartbreak contained in
Obi's voice confirmed Yoda's announcement. "How could this
happen?" Qui-Gon asked, reeling as the enormity of the
situation sank in.
"Master, I'm so sorry," If possible, Obi-Wan became even more
distraught when he saw his mentor's anguish. The young man
attempted to say more, but his lips wouldn't cooperate.
Kiss-swollen lips moved but no sound come out, the apprentice
apparently too upset to give voice to his feelings.
The sight tore at Qui-Gon's heart and the big man put aside his
own pain in an attempt to comfort his beloved. "Obi," his
effort to reach his apprentice was again rebuffed by a
invisible Force wall.
"Interfere, you must not," Yoda said, compassion making the old
Master's voice even more gravelly than normal. "Verified the
bond, we have."
Qui-Gon ignored the diminutive Jedi and focused his will on
penetrating the Force-born wall that was keeping him from
Obi-Wan. For a moment he felt the shield waver but then the
presence of another Force practitioner was added and the
barrier doubled in strength.
Glaring at the Council now, Qui-Gon gathered himself to renew
his attempts. Yoda met the threat in his former student's eyes
with a calm gaze of his own but, finally, the smaller Jedi gave
a sigh that seemed too big to have come from his small frame.
He knew from experience how stubborn his former student could
be.
"Learn the hard way, he must," Yoda said as he waved at Depa
Billaba to discontinue her reinforcement of the Force shield.
"Harm the boy, he will not."
"What about the senator?" Even Piell asked quietly as they
watched the tall Jedi Master approach the newly mated couple.
"This.... disappointment.... has provoked Qui-Gon. I sense that
he is precariously close to the Dark Side at the moment."
If anything, Yoda's ears drooped even more at his colleague's
grave assessment of the situation. "Harm Palpatine, Qui-Gon
will not. Bonded to Kenobi, the senator is. Protect his soul
mate, the padawan will." The old Jedi Master closed his eyes,
trying not to imagine Obi-Wan being forced to protect his new
mate from his Master and what the repercussions of that act
might be.
For the moment, the situation seemed to be calm as Qui-Gon
approached his student with outstretched hands. "Are you all
right?"
Palpatine, the tall Jedi ignored completely.
The gentle concern in the older man's tone freed Obi-Wan's
voice. "Master, I don't know what happened! I'd left the party
and was coming to you but I felt.... something.... call me from
the garden..."
The senator responded before Qui-Gon could by wrapping his arm
around the apprentice's now- trembling shoulders. "And I was
waiting for you there, right, Pet?" The comforting words may
have been addressed to Obi-Wan, but Palpatine's steady gaze
rested on Qui-Gon.
The Jedi Master snarled at the sight of the plump senator's
hands on his beloved and he quickly moved to tear them away.
Without thinking, Obi-Wan reached out to block him, knocking
his Master aside with such force that the taller man had to
stagger to maintain his balance.
Stunned, the padawan looked down at his hands as though they
betrayed him. The young man slowly lifted his head to look
Qui-Gon in the eye. "Master, I'm sorry. I - I don't know why I
did that..."
That action, more than anything else, convinced Qui-Gon's heart
that what his colleagues had been trying to tell him was
correct: Obi-Wan truly had soul bonded to Jusicad Palpatine.
The Jedi Master wanted to reassure his padawan that it would be
all right, that he still loved him and would cherish Obi-Wan in
whatever way was left to him, but Qui-Gon could not force the
words from his mouth.
He'd never lied to his student before and he had no intention
of starting now. Although he still loved his student with all
of his heart, their current situation was far from "all right."
Obi-Wan mistook his teacher's silence as reproof for his
instinctive protection of Palpatine. Ashamed, the young man
half turned away, trying to hide from Qui-Gon without becoming
further enmeshed in the senator's embrace. As the padawan
moved, however, Qui-Gon's eyes were drawn to a streak of color
marring the creamy beige hue of the young man's pants.
"What is this?" The tall man hissed, realizing that the streak
of color was blood.
Obi-Wan's blood.
Qui-Gon had always been taught that the power of the Force was
infinite, but at the moment, it seemed entirely too small to
contain his anger. He made to lunge at the senator again, but
was immediately confined and gagged by a series of Force bands.
The Council, it seemed, was going to take no chances of a
physical attack.
Oblivious to the silent battle taking place between Qui-Gon and
the Council, Palpatine looked at stain sullying his new lover's
backside and clucked in dismay. "Most unfortunate. I'm afraid
that this is my fault." The senator smiled urbanely at the Jedi
surrounding him. "I thought myself years past the pleasures of
the flesh. But, with the bond insisting on consummation, our
mating was a little too.... enthusiastic." The senator's smile
wavered as he realized that not only did Qui-Gon look ready to
fillet him, so did the rest of the Council.
"Acceptable, this is not! Newness of bond, excuse is
not." Yoda thumped his walking stick against the floor
in emphasis. "Soul mates, you are. Cherish Apprentice Kenobi,
you must." The Jedi Master's bulbous eyes narrowed. "If it
again occurs, to coital techniques class, you will go." By this
point, Yoda had hobbled over to the senator and proceeded to
emphasize his next words by strategic pokes of his gimer stick.
"Teach it myself, I will. Enjoy it, you will not."
A faint blush could be seen on Palpatine's pale skin, evidence
for the first time in this encounter of an emotion other than
smugness. "You're right, of course, Master Yoda. This never
should have happened and, I assure you, it will never happen
again." The senator's fawning voice took on the vaguest edge of
steel. "But you would do well to keep in mind that I am not one
of your Jedi. You'll find that I'm not so easy to bring to
heel." He nodded his head towards Qui-Gon's figure, standing so
rigidly a few yards away.
"Hmphhh." Yoda's grunt was as eloquent as only Yoda's could be.
There was no doubt that Palpatine assumed that the other Jedi
had acted so quickly to restrain Jinn in order to protect the
senator. In truth, after Obi-Wan's earlier involuntary display,
no one wanted to see what would happen if the padawan was
forced to repel an all-out attack by his Master. The emotional
fallout of such a battle would be too great. Better that it not
happen, even if it meant some discomfort for the older of the
two Jedi.
Despite the Jedi practice of releasing strong negative emotions
into the Force to dissipate harmlessly, not a single one
present begrudged Qui-Gon his anger. Soul bond or no, any
Master would be furious of such callous treatment of an
apprentice.
Mace took one look at Qui-Gon's quietly seething face and
decided to enter the conversation. "Obi-Wan, are you all
right?" Mace asked, recognizing that his currently stifled old
friend was frantic to know how the younger man fared.
The apprentice's response was a hybrid of a laugh and a sob.
"All right? I'm not not-" The padawan's voice faltered as he
tried to answer the question. "I'm not doing too badly, all
things considered. It's all been something of a shock. I'm sure
a good night's sleep will help." Although his voice had
recovered well from his verbal stumble, the young man started
to tremble as he resumed speaking.
Although he admired the padawan's attempt to handle a bad
situation, Mace knew that the young man's words were pure
bravado -- his shivering proved that. "Perhaps you should see a
healer and then get some rest. It has been a long day." The
dark-skinned Jedi Master gave a stern look to his colleagues,
daring them to refute his suggestion. Obi-Wan had endured
enough for one night. More than enough.
"Yes, sufficient discussion for one evening, it is." Yoda had
recovered from his earlier pique and added his support to
Mace's suggestion. "Young Kenobi, to healers must go."
"But of course," Palpatine answered. "But afterwards.....?"
Mace Windu raised one eyebrow at the loaded tone of voice used
in the last part of the senator's statement. He thought that
only Yoda was so good at inferring so many levels of meaning in
so few syllables.
The small Jedi Master hesitated, then reluctantly responded.
"Afterwards, make yourselves...... available...... to one
another, you should. New, the bond is. The more together you
are, the better it will be." Satisfied, Palpatine turned
towards his soul mate, quickly nuzzling the young man's neck
before turning to lead him out of the room. "Come now,
Precious. We have an errand to run at the healers', then we can
get to know one another better. I'll have my aide clear my
schedule so that I can be -- available -- to you all night."
Docilely, Obi-Wan allowed the senator to begin ushering him
from the Council chamber. The apprentice did, however, keep his
face turned resolutely towards his Master, breaking his gaze
with Qui-Gon only when he felt Mace pat his arm.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," Master Windu said gravely when he saw he
had the apprentice's attention. "I know this isn't the way you
thought this evening would turn out. Try to remember: soul
bonds are chosen by the Force. Trust in it."
The padawan gulped and quickly looked down when tears
threatened. Palpatine took advantage of his hesitation to again
tug his mate towards the door, but Obi-Wan resisted enough to
plead quietly with his Master's friend. "Watch over him," the
young man implored, nodding towards his teacher. "Please...."
Obi-Wan waited until he got Mace's solemn nod, a silent promise
that his beloved would be looked after. Then, with one last,
longing look at Qui-Gon, the apprentice allowed his new mate to
escort him from the room.
The Council chamber door closed behind Senator Palpatine and
Obi-Wan Kenobi with the leaden thud of a tomb closing. The
sound reverberated in the quiet room, the silence taut with
emotion. Despite the tension, however, the gathered Jedi
Masters waited until Obi-Wan's Force signature was faint enough
to indicate that the padawan was some distance away before
releasing their invisible hold on Qui-Gon.
With the expected explosive results.
With a growl, the big man strode over to the door, intent on
finding and reclaiming his padawan. But, instead of flinging
the unfortunate door back on it's hinges, Qui-Gon quickly found
that it had been Force-closed to prevent him from leaving. No
matter how hard he grappled with it, his muscles using brute
strength while his mind attempted to wield the Force, the door
remained closed.
Breathing in heated pants, Qui-Gon eventually stopped his
efforts and put one large hand to either side of the door's
frame. Leaning forward, as if strength of will alone could
break down the obstacle, the Jedi Master braced himself. The
Council watched silently, waiting until their colleague had
controlled his rage.
"Since when," No one was fooled by the quiet tone that the big
man used when he finally spoke, the anger behind his voice all
the more dangerous for that its heat was cold. "Since when does
the Jedi Council, the galaxy's defenders of justice, stand
aside and allow a student be raped without fear of reprisal?"
"Chosen, the Force has," Yoda hobbled over to his former
padawan and peered up at him with sad eyes. "Rape, it is not."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the
door. "And what of Obi-Wan? Does he not get a choice?"
"A soul bond cannot be denied. You know that as well as we,
Master Jinn." Ki-Adi-Mundi's prim tone resonated in the large
room.
"Still," by this time Mace had joined Yoda at Qui-Gon's side.
"Given Obi-Wan's relative youth and inexperience, Palpatine
must needs be gentle."
"Given time," Adi Gallia commented, "Kenobi will adapt."
Qui-Gon laughed humorlessly and turned to face the rulers of
the Jedi. "So if the esteemed senator doesn't make him bleed,
it isn't rape? And if he gets used to it, that makes it right?"
"You forget yourself, Qui-Gon" The warning in Mundi's tone was
clear.
"I cannot... I will not... stay silent and watch my padawan be
abused."
"Whether or not Kenobi remains your padawan is yet to be seen."
Mundi's pronouncement pulled Qui-Gon up short. "What do you
mean?" His eyes automatically sought Yoda's but the ancient
Jedi master remained silent.
"There are those who feel," It was Mace that finally offered a
careful explanation. "that the Jedi are already too powerful. A
senator being mated to a future Knight may make some people...
uneasy."
Mace Windu's apologetic words, while adding to Qui-Gon's anger,
also helped the beleaguered Jedi Master to focus. "Obi-Wan
Kenobi is as promising an apprentice as has ever entered the
Temple. Are you saying that you would actually deny him his
vocation because of.... politics?"
"No one wishes to deny Padawan Kenobi the completion of his
training," Of all the Jedi Council, Adi Gallia was the most
sensitive to the nuances of the Republic's governing body. "But
if Supreme Chancellor Valorum insists, we may have no choice."
"But even if the boy remains with the Jedi," Ki-Adi-Mundi said,
"there is no guarantee that he will remain your apprentice. Not
if you cannot accept his soul bond with Palpatine."
Yoda preempted Qui-Gon's heated response. "Clouded, Kenobi's
future is." The diminutive Jedi master glared at Mundi. "Hasty,
you are." Yoda gestured to the rest of the Council. "Leave us,
you will. Private, some discussions should be."
Reluctantly, the other members of the Council trailed out of
the chamber, loathe to leave the ancient creature alone with
the distraught Jedi Master, but obedient to Yoda's wishes. When
Mace Windu moved to leave, however, the gnome clacked his
gimmer stick against the floor. "Stay, you will. Friends, now
Qui-Gon needs. Not Council members."
Hearing the concern in Yoda's voice, Qui-Gon's anger left him
and , drained by the emotional events of the evening, the tall
man sagged against the wall. "Master, what does this all mean?
My beloved torn from me, taken in pain instead of with love.
Now you say I may even lose him as a student?"
"Chosen, the Force has." Yoda reiterated, his clawed hand
clumsily patting his former padawan's knee in an attempt at
comfort.
"But Palpatine..."
Qui-Gon felt Mace's warm hands touch his shoulder in support.
"I'm sorry, Qui-Gon," the other Jedi Master said.
Qui-Gon looked down into the sympathetic eyes of one of his
oldest friends. "There must be some sort of mistake.....
Obi-Wan and I....... for years, we've felt our connection. The
bond was there."
Yoda's walking stick made a hollow thumping noise as the old
Master made his way to the center of the room, the
uncharacteristic pacing evidence that even his calm shaken by
the situation. "Mistake, there was," the respected Jedi Master
admitted. "From infancy, we knew, unbonded soul you had. Hoped,
we did, that to the Temple, your bondmate would come. When
Knight you became, and still no bondmate you had, sent you on
missions, we did. Gave you opportunities to locate your soul
mate. Worried about your sanity, we did, when no soul twin was
found." Yoda's expressive eyes revealed just how personal that
worry had been. Even with over 700 years of experience, the old
Jedi couldn't completely disguise his love for his former
student.
Yoda faltered and Windu took up the narrative. "Then, when
Obi-Wan was brought to the Temple, also with an uncompleted
soul bond, we assumed that your soul twin had finally been
located." The hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder tightened. "I can't
tell you how sorry I am that we were wrong."
"And if you weren't wrong?" Qui-Gon asked. "What if Obi-Wan
is my soul mate?"
"The soul bond with Palpatine is real," Mace answered. "We
tested it ourselves."
"Real, yes. But is it true?"
Yoda hobbled closer. "What say you?"
"What if Palpatine somehow.... coerced the bond? Or disguised
its nature?"
"Impossible. A soul bond is determined by the Force, it cannot
be faked or compelled."
"Wishful thinking, it is," Yoda's assessment was a bit more
kind than Windu's. "Meditate, you will. Give your anger over to
the Force, you should. Let go of your fear for your apprentice,
you must."
Qui-Gon's voice was bleak as he answered. "No amount of
meditation will make me let this go. Not until Obi-Wan is
restored."
The ancient Jedi's head bowed as he heard the determination in
his former student's voice. "Headstrong, have you ever been.
Boundaries, traditions, push at, you always do." Yoda lifted
his eyes, pinning Qui-Gon with the weight of his gaze. "Be
careful, you must. Anger. Fear. Paths to the Dark Side, these
are."
Yoda watched Qui-Gon shrug off Mace Windu's hand and stumble
from the Jedi Chamber, not needing the Force to know that his
advice had been ignored.
Palpatine propped himself up on one elbow and let his eyes
feast on the sight of his bedmate. Oh, the little fool had
turned away from him and was huddled in the sheet, but the
fabric's silken folds revealed the lithe young body underneath.
The senator reached out a finger and gently allowed it to
travel the lean curve of Kenobi's hip, pretending not to notice
when the other man's breathing hitched. It pleased him for the
moment to allow the padawan to think he'd managed to fool him
with this semblance of slumber. He'd learn otherwise, soon
enough.
The trip to the healers had been tiresome. With the prudish
Jedi Council's disapproval of the manner in which he'd taken
their student's virginity, it had been necessary to placate
them by having the boy tended to at the Temple's facilities.
Next time, he'd have his own physician see to it and skip the
lecture.
The doctors in his employ, after all, were used to seeing a
little blood in unexpected places.
Palpatine's wandering finger danced across Kenobi's lower back
and he smiled as the padawan started to tremble. It had been a
long time since he'd brought a virgin to his bed. He'd
forgotten how fun giving them their lessons could be. A totally
unexpected benefit to his plan, but one he was not reluctant to
take advantage of.
Still, despite the enjoyment he was having from Kenobi's body,
Palpatine couldn't help but picture another man writhing
underneath him. Taller. Bearded.
Thinking of Qui-Gon brought a feral leer onto the senator's
face. The apprentice was merely an appetizer, a tempting morsel
but not the one he craved. Jinn was the feast Palpatine had
been hungering after for decades.
Qui-Gon Jinn was the Chosen One.
Even after all these years, Palpatine couldn't believe that the
other Jedi hadn't realized it. Qui- Gon was the youngest being
ever to pass the trails. He was always questioning Jedi
tradition, never satisfied with "That's the way it's always
been" as an answer. Pushing at his fellow Jedi to test their
boundaries, to do what they knew was right and not to simply
follow the Code blindly.
Of course, Palpatine admitted to himself, the insipid Jedi
might have actually come to realize that the Chosen One walked
in their midst if a Sith hadn't also been in proximity. Thanks
to subtle manipulations in the Force, he had been able to mask
Qui-Gon's true nature for years. Instead of realizing that he
was the long-foretold bringer of balance to the Force, Qui-Gon
was perceived as a rebel and a thorn in the Council's side. It
hadn't been easy to warp the Order's perception, but he was
helped in his task by the Jedi's rigid adherence to tradition.
The small minded fools' eyes were so blinded by their blessed
Code that they couldn't see what was right in front of their
faces.
Tremors brought Palpatine's mind back to the bed and the
padawan that reluctantly shared it. For years, he'd bided his
time, waiting for the perfect bait to ensure that the Chosen
One became the Dark Side's ally. He'd thought Xanatos would be
the perfect foil, but that failed apprentice had been too much
of the Dark. Had repulsed Qui-Gon instead of drawing him in.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, however, was all of the Light and that would be
Qui-Gon's downfall. As soon as Palpatine had seen Jinn's newest
apprentice, he'd known that he'd finally discovered the bait he
needed to trap the Chosen One.
It had taken precise timing, but he'd managed to insinuate
himself between Kenobi's soul bond with Qui-Gon. The coerced
bond wouldn't last; being forcefully bonded to the wrong man
would kill the apprentice if nothing else did first. But the
boy would survive long enough to cause sufficient pain to
topple even a venerated Jedi Master.
Speaking of pain...
The senator moved closer to the quivering padawan, suddenly
biting the back of Obi-Wan's neck. There would be no more
pretensions of sleep. "You're not asleep, are you Pet? I
thought young men were supposed to be more virile than that?"
Obi-Wan did not turn to face him. "The healers said that we
shouldn't...."
Palpatine firmly grasped the younger man's shoulder and
forcibly turned the apprentice to look at him. "The healers
said that penetration would not be wise tonight."
Delightful, how the boy quivered.
The senator reached out his hand and gently ran his thumb over
Kenobi's lower lip. "Don't fret, Precious. There are other
things we can do. I have much to teach you." His hand left
Obi-Wan's lips and cupped the back of the boy's head, forcing
it down while he spread his own legs. "Let's see what that
pretty mouth of yours can do."
Palpatine laughed to himself as he felt the corrupted soul bond
force Obi-Wan to obey. So many levels of pain...and when he got
tired of plundering the young man's innocence, he had an
apprentice of his own that he could introduce Kenobi to. The
senator almost roared his amusement aloud when he imagined the
pain that meeting would engender.
His head, after all, wasn't the only part of Maul's body to
sport horns.
Obi-Wan Kenobi's world was red.
The light from Coruscant's dawn filtered through the red
draperies in Palpatine's quarters, painting the room the
crimson color of freshly spilled blood. Idly, a corner of
apprentice's mind wondered at the choice of decorations in the
chamber, too well trained by the Jedi not to notice how their
worldly abstract appearance differed from the traditional
stateliness that Nubian culture was known for.
Despite his training, however, most of the padawan's focus was
taken up by his dilemma. Obi-Wan might be well on his way to
becoming a formidable Jedi in his own right, but at the moment,
he was also barely twenty years old and deeply wounded.
Wounded, and without the one support that had come to mean
everything to him.
Qui-Gon.
This time yesterday, he had been eagerly anticipating joining
in the physical pairing that would insure his bond with the
Jedi Master. Now, not only had the mating not occurred, but
instead, he found himself bonded to that consummate toad,
Senator Jusicad Palpatine.
Obi-Wan shivered at the thought of his new... bondmate. How
could a paunchy bureaucrat from an unimportant system be the
cause of so much pain? And how could Obi-Wan have lifted a hand
against his Master his Master! in defense of his own
rapist?
The apprentice swallowed convulsively, the unshed tears in his
throat flavored by the bitter remnants of Palpatine's seed from
the night before. After the initial joining, when Palpatine had
regained his breath from rutting on top of him like a pig in
heat, the senator had dragged Obi-Wan in front of the Jedi
Council. Instead of decrying the politician as a rapist,
Obi-Wan had found himself supporting Palpatine's claim. Still
in shock from the garden attack, the padawan had been in a daze
and unable to comprehend the significance of that act... until
Qui-Gon Jinn had arrived.
Obi-Wan remembered how his heart had leapt at the sight of his
Master, the older man stalking into the Council Chamber like an
avenging god bent on justice. Surely, he'd thought then,
Qui-Gon would make everything right. He always had before.
He hadn't counted on his own betrayal.
Upon seeing his teacher, Obi-Wan had tried several times to
describe the forced nature of the mating. His mind shrieked the
words, but before his voice could follow, the black tarry rope
that symbolized his soul's connection to Palpatine rose in his
throat and successfully blocked the words from coming. The
gentleness and love in his Master's tone as he asked if Obi-Wan
was all right was almost enough to help him break free. For a
moment, it seemed that he would be able to utter the truth, but
Palpatine had quickly intervened... and then the unthinkable
had happened. Qui-Gon had growled at the senator and had moved
to forcibly remove Obi-Wan from his arms. But even as the
apprentice's spirit internally rejoiced at the imminent rescue,
his body moved to attack his beloved. Now, in the bloody dawn
light, Obi-Wan looked down in a gesture reminiscent of what
he'd done the night before, staring at his hands in disbelief.
Qui-Gon had trained those hands, how dare he raise them against
his teacher?
Groaning in pain, Obi-Wan buried his face in his traitorous
hands and resisted the urge to cry. The apprentice rocked back
and forth for a few moments but then slowly straightened.
Enough of self pity. Folding his legs into the traditional
position, the young man schooled himself to meditate. Surely,
upon further contemplation within the Force, he would find the
answers to this dilemma.
He was the student of the venerable Qui-Gon Jinn, he told
himself with an iron will as he settled down to concentrate, it
was time he started acting like it.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Qui-Gon snarled as the thought of the Jedi adage disturbed his
meditations. After leaving the Council Chambers, the Master had
attempted to follow Obi-Wan and Palpatine to the healers but
had been thwarted by a contingent of guards securing the
passageway. Similarly, the corridors leading to the senators'
quarters were cordoned off, with no hope of overcoming the
Force-resistant troops stationed there.
The Council was taking no chances of further confrontation.
Left with no way to physically reach his distressed padawan,
the distraught Jedi had attempted to reach Obi-Wan through
their master/apprentice bond. With effort, he could faintly get
a sense of the younger man, but an odd buzzing prevented him
from any true communication.
Coming to the reluctant conclusion that perhaps his own high
emotions were interfering with the training bond, Qui-Gon had
proceeded to a favorite garden spot to meditate. Despite his
angry words earlier to Yoda, Qui-Gon knew that meditation was
the one of the better ways to access the Force. The tall man
was not averse to use any tool that might aid him in his quest
to reach Obi-Wan.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
Unfortunately, the litany of Jedi principles that normally
helped him ease into the proper level of tranquility needed to
focus were instead inflaming his already precarious emotions.
"Peace" and "Serenity" seemed like fatuous concepts compared to
Obi-Wan's situation.
Giving up meditation as a lost cause, the big man rose from his
knees and, after a quick check to verify that his teaching bond
with his student was still blocked, Qui-Gon headed for the
training circle.
Meditation was only one way to enhance one's connection
to the Force. Although it was used less often by most Jedi,
focusing one's concentration via physical exercises rather than
mental disciplines brought about similar results. In fact,
Obi-Wan was more inclined to use katas and the like to commune
with the Force as it suited his more active nature. Another
master might have insisted that the young man meditate more and
physically train less.... but Qui-Gon Jinn was not the typical
Jedi master and had encouraged Obi-Wan's technique.
At the moment, the thought of using Obi-Wan's methods made the
older man feel more connected to his beloved student and he
hurried to make his way to the training area. Qui-Gon noticed
with grim amusement that the other Jedi and Jedi-in-training
were careful to give him a wide berth as he passed through the
hallways. No matter, he truly didn't feel like company anyway.
At least, not their company.
With dawn so newly come, there was not much competition for
space and Qui-Gon quickly found an out-of-the-way corner to
begin his exercises. The big man tuned his lightsaber to a
training level and soon his muscles flowed in the familiar
repetition of Obi-Wan's favorite kata. His rage, however, the
Jedi master held close to his heart. Although anger was a path
to the Dark Side, the big man had an uneasy feeling that he
would need its energy before this situation was put to rights.
Like his teacher, Obi-Wan was finding it difficult to enter
into a meditative state. Unlike Qui-Gon, however, the
apprentice didn't dare resort to physical exercises to find his
focus. If he moved around too much, it might wake Palpatine and
that was an occurrence to be avoided.
The young man bit his lip as his eyes darted over to sleeping
chamber's entryway. Palpatine and the Jedi Council insisted
that this was a soul bond, the one he was truly meant for. If
that was the case, why did his toad of a bondmate... repulse
him so? Frighten him, for all that he'd trained for years to
work past fear? For that matter, Obi-Wan had been taught all
his life that "appearance matters not." Why, then, did he
mentally insist on referring to his mate in unflattering terms?
Why didn't he enjoy the physical mating?
Along with the rest of his class of blushing and giggling
padawans, years ago Obi-Wan had been taught the rudimentary
facts of coital activity. Over and over again, it had been
stressed to them that nothing done in the process should hurt.
In fact, if the bragging of his agemates was to be believed,
sex was supposed to be one of the best sensations ever
experienced. Just as sex with another person was supposed to be
much more enjoyable than simple masturbation, sex with a soul
mate was said to be better than any other coupling.
Sex with Palpatine was so far from enjoyable that it was
difficult to believe that it was even the same act as had been
described to him. And his body's hurting was nothing compared
to the pain of knowing that now having his soul intertwined
with Qui-Gon's was now forever refused him.
The padawan clenched his hands into fists and used them to
repeatedly pummel his thighs. "I can't believe this is
happening," he murmured softly.
"Really, Pet? Doubting our connection so soon? I would have
thought last night's activities would have made more impact
than that."
At hearing Palpatine's smug voice, Obi-Wan scrambled from the
floor and whirled to face his mate. He was a Jedi, how could
the politician sneak up on him like that?
The senator smiled at the younger man's discomposure and
finished belting his silk robe as he entered the room. "I was
surprised to wake and not find you in the bed. Couldn't sleep?"
"I-, I needed to clear my mind. I was trying to meditate."
Obi-Wan snapped his mouth shut, not having intended to explain
himself to the other man at all.
"That's quite all right," the senator fully entered the room to
begin circling the apprentice, sizing up the padawan with his
eyes. "There will be plenty of time for bed games later."
That's what Obi-Wan was afraid of.
Palpatine watched while a blush traveled up from Obi-Wan's neck
to the tips of the young man's ears. "Well," he continued,
briskly. "Not all of us can spend the day sitting around,
staring at nothing. I have duties to attend to at the
Senate..."
Palpatine stepped close to the apprentice, running the back of
his hand along the younger man's cheek. Smiling when the
padawan jerked away, he continued. "As much as it grieves me to
be away from you this morning, Poppet, I do have
responsibilities. As do you."
"Yes, my studies..."
"Have been put on hold for the time being," Palpatine readily
inserted."
"But-" Obi-Wan was beyond speech. Wasn't denying him Qui-Gon
enough?
"Really, child, it should come as no surprise." Palpatine
watched as the apprentice attempted to stutter his defiance.
"You are now the soul bonded mate to one of leaders for the
Republic's governing body. You have more important tasks ahead
of you."
Obi-Wan drew himself to his full height. "I am a Jedi."
"No, not yet. Perhaps never." The senator tisked at the young
man's dismay. "Now really, Kenobi, is this all about you?
You want Qui-Gon. You are a Jedi. Have you yet
thought about what this circumstance means to me?"
Obi-Wan just shook his head as Palpatine stalked him across the
room. "Don't be so selfish, Obi-Wan. Look at you, Pet. Look at
me. Don't you think a man of my years and maturity would prefer
a partner with a little more depth? Someone with a little less
flash and a little more substance?" Palpatine stopped, standing
close enough to the younger man that their breath intermingled.
"Jinn should count his lucky stars that you are bonded to me,
rather than to him. In time, he'll realize that he's well rid
of you."
Turning from Obi-Wan's slender form, Palpatine headed back
towards the sleep chamber. "Breakfast should be arriving soon,
Precious. Do be a good boy and bring it in when it does." The
senator turned for one last comment. "Normally there's scones
in the morning. Perhaps we can find an alternative use for the
butter, hmmm?" Smiling as the understanding dawned in the young
man's eyes, the senator exited the chamber.
Trembling, Obi-Wan could only stand, mutely, and wait to carry
out Palpatine's instructions.
Thrust. Withdraw. Repeat.
Thrust. Withdraw. Repeat.
Qui-Gon had given his body over to the training kata, realizing
for the first time how its movements mimicked that of the sex
act.
Thrust. Withdraw. Repeat.
Of course, considering that as Obi-Wan's twentieth birthday had
approached, the majority of Qui-Gon's thoughts had seemed to
lead to the topic of sex, it could be just the way he was
perceiving this particular exercise at the moment...
Thrust. Withdraw. Repeat.
Then again, maybe not.
Thrust. Withdraw. <SNAP!>
A barest whisper from the Force warned him of the attack and
Qui-Gon whirled to face his opponent. "Mace? What are you doing
here?" he asked, even as he brought his lightsaber up to
counter the move.
"I could ask the same of you," the Jedi Council member replied.
Both men backed off but kept in a defensive crouch. Mace nodded
over to the group of Jedi who were trying to observe without
being obvious. "They got worried and contacted me."
Another flurry of lunges and counterattacks followed, ending up
with their sabers crossed at the hilts. "What, haven't they
seen a Jedi master practice before?" Qui-Gon growled, glaring
at Mace over their crossed wrists.
His old friend snorted indelicately. "Not for two hours. On the
same kata. Without stopping, even for a breather."
"Soft, the lot of them," Qui-Gon claimed, breaking the impasse
and making an attack of his own. Soon the Jedi masters were
moving at speeds almost too fast for the eye to follow. Even
though they were Jedi, however, the two men were still human
and could not keep up both the pace and the perfection forever.
"Bah!" Mace hissed, as Qui-Gon's saber burned the back of his
neck.
Qui-Gon stepped back, panting only a little from the exertion.
"I see our audience isn't the only Jedi getting soft around
here, Mace." Realizing that the other man wouldn't be able to
continue, the bearded Jedi walked to the edge of the exercise
circle to fetch towels. Returning, he handed one to his friend.
"Are your Council duties eating into your training time?" An
ice-blue gaze swept up and down Windu's form. "It doesn't suit
you."
Mace used the towel to wipe the sweat from his bald pate. "You
always were better with a saber than I was."
Qui-Gon looked up from wiping his face. "And you didn't use to
procrastinate."
"Procrastinate? What makes you think I'm putting something
off?"
The taller man smiled humorlessly. "You're the junior member of
the Council, Mace. You didn't come here for a workout or
because of any misplaced concern about me. Out with it."
Mace reached over and clasped his hand to Qui-Gon's shoulder.
"My concern about isn't misplaced, Qui. I'm worried about you."
Qui-Gon shook off the hand, then abruptly bent to retrieve his
saber. "Save your concern for someone who needs it. Like
Obi-Wan." Seeing the dark-skinned man flinch when he said his
padawan's name, Qui-Gon pressed the issue. "It's about Obi-Wan,
isn't it? Is he all right?" Re- thinking his own wording,
Qui-Gon held up his hand to forestall Windu's answer. "Of
course, he's not all right. Let me rephrase the question. Has
something else happened? Palpatine hasn't... harmed... him
again, has he?" The tone of the last question made it clear
that if he had, then the senator's days were numbered.
"No, no, it's not that," Mace hastened to clarify. "But you're
not going to like it..." Windu braced himself before
continuing. "The Council has decided to suspend Obi-Wan's
status as a Jedi apprentice." Seeing the added grief on the
taller man's countenance, Mace added a sincere apology. "I'm
sorry, Qui-Gon, I truly am... but Obi-Wan is no longer your
padawan."
Thanks to the warning given the evening before, the
pronouncement shouldn't have been a surprise, but Qui-Gon was
still startled. He'd never thought the Council would have taken
this step. Never.
Back ramrod straight, the tall Jedi glared down at the only
Council member unfortunate enough to be in his presence at this
moment. "It is the Council that will be sorry, Mace."
Mace Windu drew back, eyes never leaving his old friend's face.
"Is that a threat, Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon looked genuinely surprised at the other man's question.
"A threat? No. Merely fair forewarning to you on the possible
ramifications of this decision."
With that, Qui-Gon turned to gather up his training
paraphernalia. Mace, wasn't used to being dismissed so
summarily and felt the need to prolong the encounter.
"It had to be done, Qui-Gon," he explained to the other man's
eloquently turned back. "The common people are hesitant enough
about the Jedi as it is. Many even fear our abilities. Do you
know that some call us 'wizards?'"
"And what does that have to do with Obi-Wan?"
Mace grabbed the opening that Qui-Gon gave him, small as it
was. "Our affiliation with the Senate is reassuring to the
general populace, that Jedi powers will be held in check.
Balanced out by the rules of the Senate. But a senator soul
bonded to a Jedi-in-training would be too much power gathered
in one place, the system of checks and balances would be
undermined. Jedi have to respected, held sacrosanct. Given his
bond with Palpatine, Kenobi's connection to the Jedi had to be
severed, for the good of the Republic."
"If the general populace fear us, all the more reason to come
out of our lofty ivory tower and interact more directly,"
Qui-Gon countered. "The citizenry fear Jedi because they don't
know us. That's easy enough to fix."
Mace threw his hands up in disgust. This again. For years,
Qui-Gon had been championing the notion that the Jedi should
move about in the Federation more... and act less on the
Senate's whim. "What would you have me do? Throw out thousands
of years of Jedi tradition?"
"No," Qui-Gon spat back. "only the parts that don't make sense
anymore."
The two old friends glared at each other for several
heartbeats. Mace felt his anger drain away as he realized that
the anger in Qui-Gon's eyes only thinly veiled the deeper pain
the other man was experiencing. How many times during their
friendship had he seen that pain, caused by an incomplete soul
bond keening for consummation? How many times had he offered
his own body for Qui-Gon's use, knowing that it wouldn't be the
union that his friend needed, but hoping that it would help
drown the ache for a time?
Shaking his head, Mace laughed softly and bitterly. "Look at
us, old friend. What happened to us?"
"'Us,'" Qui-Gon echoed, not taken in by the other man's bid for
nostalgia. "I rather find that I miss my friend, Mace Windu. Do
you know him? He always had a hard head but always kept an soft
spot in his heart. He's been replaced by Jedi Councilor
Windu... and that's a fellow I'm not sure that I like at all."
Silence was the only answer Mace could make to that.
Qui-Gon shook his head as he continued, even as he headed for
the exit. "Sometimes, Council Windu, the most evil thing a man
can do is ignore what he knows to be right. The good of the
many does not always override the good of the one." The bearded
Jedi paused for one last parting shot. "I have no intention of
allowing the good of the one to be ignored in this case. Not
when the individual suffering is Obi-Wan Kenobi."
After his old friend was gone, Mace stood and stared at the
empty door for several heartbeats. "Damn you, Qui-Gon. Is it
too much to ask that you think of the Code. Just once?"
But it was a long time, indeed, before Mace could dispel the
sense of disquiet that the whole conversation had provoked.
Palpatine was right.
Obi-Wan huddled in on himself, for the moment all alone amongst
the stained sheets of the senator's bed. The other man was in
the fresher, getting ready for his day's work. Thoughts of
Palpatine inevitably drew Obi-Wan's eyes over to the abandoned
breakfast tray and the apprentice winced at the all-to-recent
memories the sight provoked.
He'd never be able to look at a tub of butter the same way
again.
Resolutely, the padawan brought his mind back to the issue at
hand. Of all the things that Palpatine had claimed, of all
things said in his oily bureaucrat's voice, only one statement
had rung true... Obi-Wan had been focused too much on
himself. During this whole mess, he'd only thought of how the
soul bonding with Palpatine affected him. Not Qui-Gon,
who'd been anticipating their soul bond as with as much delight
as he had and must be hurting every bit as much as his student
right now.
It galled Obi-Wan to realize it, but Palpatine's rant earlier
had made him realize his own selfishness. Of course, the
senator had been talking of himself and not Obi-Wan's teacher,
but an odd thing had happened as the politician talked. While
the bureaucrat had prattled on about a partner with more
maturity and depth, Obi-Wan had gotten a distinct mental
picture of Qui-Gon, writhing with pleasure underneath the
pistoning hips of Jusicad Palpatine. Since Obi-Wan was
reasonably certain that such a scenario had never occurred in
real life, it stood to reason that the image was originating
from his unwanted link with Palpatine.
Contemplating what to do with the information kept Obi-Wan's
mind distracted during the rest of the morning's events, a fact
for which he was profoundly grateful. He now knew intimately
what the senator was capable of and he would be damned if the
man was going to get the chance to do the same to Qui-Gon.
"Why the frown, pretty Pet?" Obi-Wan looked up to see Palpatine
leaning against the doorframe, watching him.
"N-nothing." Damn, what was the matter with him? A heartbeat
ago, he was thinking of vivisecting the senator before he
managed to touch a hair on Qui-Gon's head, but in the man's
presence, he became as timid as a cradlemouse.
"That's good," the senator left his station by the door and
strode over to the bed. "I was afraid you were annoyed with me
for having to attend to my duties and abandoning you."
"N-n-o," was all the apprentice could managed to stutter,
shuddering as the older man's hand languidly caressed him from
bare shoulder to rounded buttock.
Palpatine saw the way his new mate recoiled from his touched
and allowed himself a satisfied smile. "It saddens me to have
to leave you right now, Poppet, but I do have Senate matters to
attend to." He gave one last fond pat to Obi-Wan's hip before
getting up, but paused as though an idea had just occurred to
him. "I know, to make this separation easier for both of us,
stay in bed all day. Just like you are, naked and ready. I'll
get comfort knowing that, as busy as my schedule is today, you
are here, just waiting for me to get back. Right, Precious?"
Obi-Wan's mouth fell open in dismay and Palpatine swooped in to
steal a slack kiss. Pulling back, the older man traced the
padawan's lips. "Tempting, Pet, but I really must run. Now,
remember, stay in the bed."
Then, in whirl of rich fabric and throaty chuckles, the senator
was gone.
Almost in a stupor, Obi-Wan blankly stared at the space where
Palpatine had last stood. An unfamiliar lassitude had washed
over the young man during their short conversation, causing him
to blink in exhaustion. He shook his head, trying to dispel it,
but only succeeded in rattling his brains a bit. What was wrong
with him? First, uncharacteristic timidity and now this?
It was no matter, he quickly decided, brutally shoving the
fatigue aside for the time being. Since he seemed unable to
function normally when Palpatine was around, he had to take
advantage of every free moment while the man was gone.
Could Palpatine control him through the bond? Fine. It was time
to find out if that trick worked
The Jedi Temple at Coruscant was riddled with spies.
Thankfully, for the sake of both the Order and the Republic
that it served, the "spies" owed their primary allegiance, not
to any enemy of the Republic, but to a certain bearded Jedi
Master.
Even as a padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn had shown a tendency to
accumulate strays. Some of his youthful naivete may have waned
over the years, but his willingness to assist a creature in
need remained. Had grown, in fact, as though the man's
compassionate heart had expanded even beyond the norm in order
to keep in proportion to his tall physique.
Most times, Qui-Gon was able to aid the unfortunates that
crossed his path by alleviating their situation at the point of
origin. But, in some instances, no other solution could be
found other than to find them a new home. For more than a few
of his rescuees, that new home was Coruscant itself. In fact,
the sentient beings he assisted often found employment at the
Temple or its surrounds.
His colleagues, and even his own padawan, might tease Qui-Gon
about his strays, but the end result was that Qui-Gon had loyal
friends not only in all parts of the Temple and but also
scattered across the entire planet. There were times when
having friends in low places came in handy and, in his
desperation, Qui-Gon had every intention of taking advantage of
the edge these "spies" gave him during the current crisis.
Comfortably seated at a worn, but clean, table tucked away in a
nook of the Temple's cavernous kitchen, Qui-Gon looked at his
two co-conspirators in satisfaction. Many members of the Jedi
order took little or no notice of those that served them. Oh,
his peers weren't ungrateful by any stretch of the imagination,
just complacent. Yet another thing about Jedi that Qui-Gon
longed to change . . . but, for the moment, the laxness of his
peers suited his needs well.
"The boy didn't eat anything at breakfast or lunch."
The concerned tone brought Qui-Gon out of his contemplation of
his Order's faults. "How do you know?"
Brab Connetti's blonde hair was starting to wash to gray, but
twenty years ago it had been bright as a midday sun. Brab had
been a mercenary then and Qui-Gon, posing as a soldier-for-hire
for the sake of a mission, had served in the same unit as the
Corellian. One day, they'd faced a particularly bloodthirsty
band of pirates and Conetti's nerve had broken. Seeing comrades
being slaughtered on every side, Brab had taken advantage of a
minor head wound and feigned death, rising from the fallen only
when the conflict had moved on. Brab's fellow mercs had taken
exception at this sign of cowardice and moved to lynch him on
the spot but Qui-Gon had intervened. Realizing from the
self-loathing in Brab's eyes that the man regretted what he'd
done, the Jedi master had brought him back to Coruscant, hoping
that exposure to the Jedi and their ways would help the
soul-shattered soldier rebuild his self-esteem. It had worked.
Now, two decades later, the former warrior-for-hire ran the
Temples kitchens with a military precision that would have made
a general proud. More importantly, Brab could look at himself
in the mirror without wincing at the man he saw there.
Brab placed a plate of steaming food in front of Qui-Gon,
pointedly staring at the taller man until the Jedi sighed and
picked up his fork. Satisfied that his friend would himself
eat, the former merc explained. "You know that the senators are
housed pretty close to the Temple, right? Well, all of us chief
slop-slingers keep pretty connected too. I know the head cook
over on the Senate side and I called in a few favors. Lancie
gets a report from the server to Palpatine's quarters and I get
a report from Lancie." Brab shook his graying blonde head in
dismay. "I just wish I had more to report."
Qui-Gon touched the other man's arm in reassurance. "Thank you,
Brab, any word at all is a kindness."
A snort of disgust was heard from their companion. "Kindness,
my ass! Mealy-mouthed talk like that makes my tits ache. We
don't need to know how much Kenobi is eatin', we need to know
how to get him away from that pot-bellied padawan porker."
Both men turned to stare at Biidee Erat. Brab with disgust and
Qui-Gon in an oft-repeated, but rarely successful, attempt to
get the woman to curb her bluntness a bit.
Qui-Gon had discovered Biidee stowing away on his transport out
of an outer-rim world. A close look at the young woman had
shown why she was so desperate. A pregnant prostitute is not a
money-maker and most brothel owners forced their chattels to
terminate any pregnancy. Biidee had been determined to keep her
unborn child and had managed to escaped her pimp's clutches.
Impressed by her determination and courage, Qui-Gon had brought
her back to the Temple, amid much rumor-mongering about who the
father of her unborn babe was. It didn't help his reputation
that when her son was birthed, Biidee had named him BiJinn to
honor the Jedi that had saved both her and her child.
A dozen years had passed since he'd made that choice and
Qui-Gon never regretted it, scandal or no scandal. Biidee had
proven to be gifted with mechanical talent and she had quickly
made her way up the ranks of those that tended to the Temple's
transportation needs, despite her tendency to talk as though
she were still in an outer-rim gutter brothel.
"If you're so impatient," Brab challenged, "what do you think
Qui-Gon should do?" There was little love between the
solder-turned-cook and the whore-turned-mechanic.
Biidee flipped her braids back and gestured around the room.
"First thing a tech-head learns is to use the tools at hand."
She smiled evilly. "First thing a whore learns is which body
part is most important to the fellas. You," She pointed at
Qui-Gon, "take that lit-up little stick of yours, cut Palpy's
balls off and then drop 'em in one of Conetti's blenders. Then,
whrrrrrrr," Here, her hands made a whirling gesture,
"Wha-la, you gots yerself some senator gonad puree." A glare
was directed Brab's way. "That ought to be fancy enough even
fer the likes o' you."
Biidee gifted Brab with another glare, hands on her hips as she
defied the man to belittle her suggestion. To her surprise,
however, the former merc scratched his chin thoughtfully for a
few moments before grinning widely and clapping her on the
shoulder. "Now, that plan's got real potential." He
turned to their mutual friend. "What do you think, Qui-Gon?"
Despite the seriousness of Obi-Wan's predicament, Qui-Gon
couldn't help but smile. What his comrades lacked in tactical
finesse, they made up in enthusiasm. Palpatine didn't stand a
chance.
"As tempting as Biidee's suggestion is," Qui-Gon replied, "We
have to keep in mind that Obi- Wan has some sort of bond with
the senator." When his companions looked confused at his
caution, he explained. "While I don't think it is a legitimate
soul bond, there's no telling what kind of connection Palpatine
has forged with Obi-Wan. Until we know for sure, we have to
assume that anything that happens to the senator might be
reflected back on Obi."
"Oh." Brab was silent as the possible repercussions Obi-Wan
might suffer due to the proposed action became clear to him.
Shifting in his seat, the chief cook very carefully crossed his
legs.
"Oh," Biidee echoed. Then she grinned. "That wouldn't work at
all. If'n I'm readin' things right, yer plannin' on 'sheathin'
yer lightsaber' with Kenobi, right? Kinda important fer him ta
still be fully functional."
Qui-Gon winced at her wording but stepped on Brab's foot before
the other man could chide the woman for her attitude. He well
knew that the more vulgar Biidee got, the deeper the concern
her crudeness covered. "Well, I wouldn't quite put it that way,
but, yes, I have long believed that Obi-Wan and I were soul
mates."
Silence reigned in the room for a few minutes, then Brab
tentatively cleared his throat to gain his companion's
attention. "You know, there is that banquet tonight, to welcome
the Iffas into the Federation. The kitchens have been preparing
for it all week. All of the senators will be there..."
"...and it wouldn't be at all unusual for Jedi, especially a
Jedi well-known for diplomatic skills, to be present." Qui-Gon
finished for him.
Biidee joined in the planning. "You'd be needin' a way to get
off-planet real quick-like. Knights are always flittin' on an'
off Coruscant. I think I could arrange fer a transport to be
waitin' fer ya."
"And I could get you the banquet's schedule, maybe sneak you in
by the servant's entrance. That way Palpatine wouldn't be
alerted ahead of time that you intended on snatching Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon quashed his rising excitement over the tentative plan
to regain his padawan. As much as he longed to remove Obi-Wan
from Palpatine's hurtful presence, he had to be sure that these
loyal friends knew the possible danger they were getting in to.
"Brab, Biidee, I can't tell you how much your assistance in
this matter means to me," Qui-Gon fixed his stare onto his
clasped hands. He knew that if he looked at the other two while
saying this, that his eyes would be filled with longing. In
fairness to them, he couldn't influence them with his
need to help Obi-Wan. "But if you do this, you should
know what it might mean. Palpatine is a member of the senate.
If something should happen, I would no longer be in a position
to protect you. You might be banished from Coruscant or
worse..."
"Don't be a bigger ass than you have ta, Master Jinn," Biidee
said with exasperation in her voice. "BiJinn's trainin' in the
Music Guild now, ain't nobody gonna touch him there. 'Sides, I
don't know about His Nibs here, but weren't fer you, I'da spent
the rest o' my life on m'back and BiJinn woulda never even been
born. Count me in."
Brab cleared his throat. "Agreed. You looked past the fact I
was a coward and saw the man behind my fear. I'll never forget
that. Never." He stretched out his hand to the Jedi master.
"I'm not much, but whatever I can do to help you, I will."
Biidee added her hand to Brab's. "Ditto what blondie said."
Qui-Gon swallowed down a sudden spate of tears and covered
their hands with both of his own. "Thank you. I just wish
Obi-Wan knew that we had such loyal friends."
"Do you want me to try and get a message through to him?" Brab
offered.
The Jedi master shook his head. "No, I think we dare not.
Palpatine's a canny one. We can't afford him being tipped off
too early."
Biidee spoke in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "Ain't
there anyway you can get a message to 'im?" She looked at the
two men earnestly. "I been there. Hurtin' and alone and not
knowin' that the hurtin's gonna end. Obi's a good kid. Don't
seem right, him not knowin' help's on t'way."
Qui-Gon took her words to heart. Yes, he owed it to his beloved
to let him know that he'd soon have him free. But how to do it
so that Palpatine wasn't alerted to the plan? His rescue team
was already comprised of an acknowledged coward and a reformed
prostitute. Who could he use as a messenger that would be every
bit as unlikely to be thought of as a conspirator? The Jedi
master thought a moment more and then grinned.
He knew of just the perfect messenger.
In the senator's quarters, a young man lowered his head in
shame, his bright red-gold hair dulled by the malignant
atmosphere of the chamber. Despite his attempts to stifle them,
tears adorned Obi-Wan's cheeks. Glad for the first time during
the whole debacle that his master was not at hand, and
therefore not present to witness his student's weakness, the
apprentice wiped the tears away and braced himself.
Over and over, the padawan had sent his spirit questing along
the soul bond he was forced to share with Palpatine, determined
to discover what the senator's plans were for Qui-Gon. Time and
again, however, the young man had been forced to withdraw. The
miasma of darkness that permeated Palpatine's side of the bond
had sickened Obi-Wan, literally and figuratively.
One more time, then.
Body swaying with effort, the Jedi-in-training sent his mind
spiraling down. He was exhausted, but repeated attempts had
made the process rote. Within heartbeats, he was at the level
where he could see the silver cord that represented his soul
.... and the black, tarry rope that was Palpatine, firmly
twined around it.
Maintaining firm control on his gag reflex, the padawan reached
out a mental "hand" and forced himself to touch the dark
strand. This was the point where he'd always faltered before.
The evil feeling emanating from the black portion alone was
enough to stagger Obi-Wan. In addition to the emotional
response, however, he also had to deal with the onrush of
mental images that accompanied the contact. Together, the
sensations had been enough to overwhelm him and thus- far
successfully thwart his information-gathering attempts.
Suspecting that he was near his physical limits, Obi-Wan
realized that this would be his last attempt for the time being
and Force only knew when Palpatine would leave him alone long
enough to try again. Steeling himself, the apprentice resolved
that this time he would succeed. No matter what happened.
With new resolve, the young man reached out...
Contact.
Immediately, the padawan was engulfed in a sense of corruption.
Prepared as well as desperate, he didn't let the sensation
deter him, hanging on to the black rope with mental "fingers"
that shook with exertion. From his morning's experience, he
knew what was coming next and readied himself for the ordeal.
Sure enough, the visions quickly followed. Palpatine waylaying
him in the garden and roughly mounting him. Being forced to lie
to the Council, and having the venerated Jedi leaders believe
the false claim. Striking out at Qui-Gon when his master tried
to pry him from Palpatine's arms. The way his throat convulsed
with retching as the senator released his seed deep within his
mouth.
It was like being violated all over again.
Obi-Wan sublimated his anguish, waiting until the ugly mental
pictures had run their course. Surely, this was just the
surface. Surely, if he could just hold on long enough, other
visions would unfold. Visions that would give him a clue as to
Palpatine's master plan.
There.
Obi-Wan got just a brief glimpse of an image that involved his
master. Qui-Gon. An ancient prophesy. A trap...
Before the padawan could make sense of the vision, he felt the
presence of another mind. Obi- Wan rapidly made a mental
retreat from his spiritual rapport with the bond. There could
only be one other individual that could access the soul
connection, and he wasn't ready for Palpatine to know of his
probe just yet.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find that it was already early
afternoon. The information he'd gleaned from his deep
meditation was vague at best, but it was clear that he needed
to warn Qui- Gon of an impending trap. The young man quickly
swung his legs out to the edge of the bed. There was no telling
when Palpatine would be back, he'd have to hurry.
To his dismay, though, his body wouldn't respond when he tried
to leave the bed. Repeatedly, the young man moved to get up,
but something prevented him from doing so. He would start the
motion with every intent of rising, but as soon as his body
began to lift off the bed, he would suddenly get as limp as a
puppet who's strings have been cut.
"... stay in bed all day. Just like you are, naked and
ready..."
Like a ghost, the memory of Palpatine's words from that morning
haunted Obi-Wan. He'd heard the senator's directive, but had
ignored it, already planning out in his mind the investigation
of the soul bond. To his chagrin, it seemed as though he should
have listened more carefully.
Exhausted from wrestling with the soul bond, desperate to warn
his master of a trap, and humiliated at his forced obedience to
his rapist's whim, Obi-Wan collapsed down onto the bed.
This time, he didn't even attempt to stifle his tears, until
unconsciousness mercifully claimed him.
In the end, it was Obi-Wan's courage that gave him away.
Like a bloated spider, over the years Jusicad Palpatine had
woven a tangled web of schemes and machinations, all carefully
designed to increase his power whilst maintaining the facade of
a dedicated public servant. Although his plan to trap the
Chosen One was the nearest and dearest to the senator's heart,
he had other intrigues to oversee. The licensing of a newly
formed Trade Federation might seem like a niggling bureaucratic
detail, but he had long-range plans for that particular
group... plans that he dare not leave in the hands of anyone
else.
So it was that Palpatine ignored the first few tentative
brushes against his soul's connection with Obi-Wan Kenobi. He'd
expected the apprentice to test his spirit's confinement, so
the explorations didn't really surprise him. Like a caged
avian, the Jedi-in-training would soon learn, however, that
flutter his "wings" all he like, he well and truly belonged to
Palpatine now. The soul leash saw to that. The padawan would
soon give up...
.....except that he didn't.
After giving Obi-Wan's explorations only cursory attention,
Palpatine had returned his focus back to the Senate's
proceedings. It was only hours later that he realized that, far
from dwindling away in defeat, Obi-Wan's probes were becoming
stronger. It was almost as if the young man wasn't trying to
escape the tethering of his soul, it was if the padawan was
searching for something more specific...
This behavior was unexpected and far more aggressive than
Palpatine had anticipated.
The politician sat back in his senate chair, elbows resting on
the chair's arms and hands casually raised, fingers steepled in
front of his face. He knew from past experience that this pose
gave the illusion that he was avidly listening while allowing
his mind to roam free.
This time when the questing touch came, Palpatine was ready.
With mental "eyes," the senator watched as Obi-Wan delved into
their souls' joining. With something akin to shock, the senator
came to realize that the padawan was slowly but surely using
the connection to gather information. In fact, the young man
was sifting the impressions he gleaned, latching on anything
having to do with Qui-Gon Jinn.
Astounding.
Tethering a soul in an enforced joining was devastating, a rape
that went far beyond the physical.
As the harnesser, not only could Palpatine gain access to his
unwilling mate's mind and body, he could also pull from the
leashed soul the energy needed to control his involuntary
partner. The combination should have quickly left the
apprentice a mindless, emotionless husk, capable only of
spreading his legs upon his new Master's command. In fact,
Palpatine had been counting on just that end result. Wearing
his heart on his sleeve as he did, Qui-Gon would naturally be
protective of his student, a trait that would be magnified by
his attraction to the young man. The keystone to his plan was
that and witnessing the boy's rapid deterioration into a shell
of his usual vibrant self would provide the impetuous that
Palpatine was counting on to trap the Chosen One. Jinn's
reaction would be the emotional trigger needed to lure the big
man over to the Dark Side. Or, failing that, that his outrage
would cause Qui-Gon to lower his own mental defenses enough for
Palpatine to apply the spiritual manacles to the Jedi Master.
Instead of reacting as expected to the mental and physical
assault, however, Obi-Wan had apparently not only had
maintained part of his strength of will, but was also clever
enough to use the unwanted connection to spy on the senator's
plans. Indeed, now that he was aware of the padawan's fumbling,
it was obvious that the young man had forged a two-way
connection from what was supposed to be used solely for
Palpatine's benefit. Apparently he had miscalculated by
underestimating the apprentice's strength and determination. A
mistake and possibly a costly one at that.
Palpatine didn't like making mistakes.
"Senator Palpatine, what are your thoughts on the Trade
Federation issue?"
The resonating tones of Orn Free Taa's voice brought Palapatine
out of his reverie. Belatedly, he realized that he'd lost track
of the other senator's pontificating. No matter, really. He'd
written Free Taa's speech himself - and was certainly paying
the corpulent politician enough to deliver it convincingly.
"I think we must consider the awarding of trade routs most
carefully," he began, launching into his own carefully prepared
sermon on the subject.
He'd just wrap this up quickly... and then deal with his
wandering soul mate.
The Waterfall Garden was adjacent to the Room of a Thousand
Fountains and was one of Yoda's favorite mediation venues.
Still, Qui-Gon entered it carefully. The Garden wasn't only a
favorite of Yoda's and, although Qui-Gon was here to ask for
assistance from the Garden's other most frequent denizen,
neither did he want the creature to take him by surprise.
Therefore, the big man entered the Garden slowly, his footsteps
cushioned by the thick carpet of grass as he moved carefully
through the seemingly tranquil setting. As he did, the Jedi
Master forced himself to relax his shoulders, releasing his
tension into the Force. He was here, after all, to seek the aid
of a friend. If not his own friend, at least, the friend of his
master and of his own padawan.
"Hullo! Hullo!"
The shrill voice came from above and behind him. Qui-Gon turned
to face the creature he'd come to see, but even his Jedi
reflexes weren't fast enough. Before the first word of greeting
was over, Qui-Gon felt tiny hands grab the portion of his hair
that was pulled back from his face. By the time the second
"Hullo!" was complete, the tail of hair had been pulled up and
over his head. When the maneuver was complete, the voice's
owner was dangling upside down from it, acting for all the
world as though Qui-Gon's hair was its personal swing. Far from
happy, Qui-Gon was still relieved that he hadn't been facing
the creature for its arrival. Otherwise, he knew from
experience, his beard would have been serving the same
function.
"Awww...," the swinger pouted. "All scowly! Sky-Eyed Highthing
not happy to see Dew Blossom?"
Dew Blossom. Standing, the winged creature wouldn't even come
half-way to Qui-Gon's knee. Colorful wings sprouted out of the
back if its blue, vaguely humanoid body, making the little
creature appear to be a large insect. Called a sapiopod, Dew
Blossom was the last of its kind known to exist. Given its
solitary status, Yoda had granted it sanctuary at the Temple
centuries ago. It was not only the only sentient being Qui-Gon
knew that was smaller than the diminutive Jedi Master, but it
was also the only creature he knew to be older than Yoda.
Not to mention the fact that it was twice as annoying.
Dew Blossom relinquished its grip on Qui-Gon's hair and
fluttered in front of the bearded Jedi Master. "Sky-Eyed
Highthing look sad. Dew Blossom sing, make happy!"
"No! No, that won't be necessary," Qui-Gon quickly replied. The
only thing worse than Dew Blossom's greetings was its singing.
The sapiopod had been the bane of Qui-Gon's own apprenticeship.
Yoda had befriended it and spent as much time with the
creature, insisting that his padawan do the same. Like many
species of feline, Dew Blossom had sensed that Qui-Gon wasn't
terribly fond of it, immediately cementing his status as its
favorite human. Much to Qui-Gon's dismay.
"Confused Dew Blossom, you have," Yoda had teased him when he'd
complained. "So tall, you are. Thinks you a tree, it does. Stop
growing, you should and its attention elsewhere will go,
hrrmmmm?"
For his part, Qui-Gon had tried to bear Dew Blossom's attention
with as much grace as he could muster. It was only when he had
his own apprentice that he'd realized the valuable lessons of
patience and tolerance that interacting with the sapiopod had
taught him. From then on, he made sure to follow Yoda's example
and see to it that his apprentices spent volumes of time in its
presence.
Dew Blossom fluttered around Qui-Gon, peering behind him and
next to him, even going so far as to stick its head inside the
Jedi Master's cloak, obviously in search of something that the
big man was missing. "Where Red-Gold Highthing? Pretty one want
to dance with Dew Blossom?"
Despite his worry for his padawan, Qui-Gon grinned at the
hopeful tone in the tiny creature's voice. The early period of
Obi-Wan's apprenticeship had been fraught with stress and
misunderstandings. That, coupled with the missions that had
kept them off Coruscant, meant that it had been some months
into their Master/Apprentice relationship before Qui-Gon could
bring the teen to the Garden and introduce him to Dew Blossom.
But when he finally had managed to bring the two of them
together, their meeting had been pure magic.
Qui-Gon had been immediately abandoned as Dew Blossom's
favorite person... in favor of his student. Somehow, the
sapiopod had sensed Obi-Wan's love of acrobatic moves,
especially the airborne ones, and the two quickly bonded. That
initial meeting had been the first time that Qui- Gon had heard
his overly-serious padawan laugh, and upon hearing the sound,
the Jedi Master instantly forgave Dew Blossom for all of its
annoying idiosyncracies. After that, many a golden afternoon
had been spent watching the teen and the sapiopod take to the
air, at times with a gleefully shrieking Dew Blossom clinging
to Obi-Wan's braid like a living kite.
Despite its age, Dew Blossom had a certain innocent quality and
Qui-Gon hated to inform it of what had happened to its friend.
"I'm sorry, Dew Blossom, Obi-Wan won't be able to dance with
you for a while." Seeing the sapiopod cock its head in
confusion, he tried to explain. "Do you know that Obi-Wan and I
were waiting to become soul mates..."
In its excitement, Dew Blossom took off in a loop-de-loop. "Dew
Blossom knows! Dew Blossom knows! Two then one, be all cuddle
mates!"
"Well, it didn't quite work out that way... Obi-Wan's become
soul bonded to Senator Palpatine."
The sapiopod's surprise was such that it stalled mid-flight and
only Qui-Gon's quick thinking kept it from taking a plunge to
the ground. Holding out his hand, the Jedi Master caught it
safely. Dew Blossom recovered quickly, standing on the palm of
Qui-Gon's hand, the delicate nature of its wings belied by the
fierce anger in its eyes at the news.
"That not right!" It claimed. "Red-Gold Highthing belong with
Sky-Eyed Highthing. Everybody know that! Oooh.... Dew Blossom
much vexed!"
It was funny, Qui-Gon reflected, how the fury of such a tiny
creature made him feel better.
The sapiopod made as if to launch itself out of Qui-Gon's hand.
"Dew Blossom fix..."
"Oh no you don't, Bug," Qui-Gon cupped his hands around the
sapiopod, gently preventing the creature from leaving. "I think
there is more to Senator Palpatine than first meets the eye. We
will have to go carefully - there's too much chance you could
be hurt." Seeing the stubborn set to its tiny features, he
hastily continued. "We're going to rescue Obi-Wan tonight and
your assistance is vital to our plan."
"Dew Blossom help!"
"Yes, I knew you would," Qui-Gon quickly outlined the need to
get Obi-Wan a message. "So, you see, we need you to tell
Obi-Wan that help is on the way. Do you think you can find
Palpatine's quarters, sneak in, and give Obi the message?"
Dew Blossom took to the air again. "Can do! Can do! Dew Blossom
find Mucky-Dark Highthing's place, tell Red-Gold Highthing not
worry."
Qui-Gon winced at the creature's shrill voice. "Thank you, Dew
Blossom. Now, can you do it quietly?"
The sapiopod landed on a nearby stone bench, making a show of
tiptoeing across its length. "Dew Blossom all stillquiet," it
whispered. "Mucky-Dark Highthing will be all fuss fusted, not
even know Dew Blossom there!"
"Very good. Thank you," Qui-Gon's words of appreciation were
short, but heartfelt.
"Dew Blossom go now," it said, catapulting itself into the air
once again. "Sky-Eyed Highthing not worry either. Will fix,
will fix."
Qui-Gon watched the winged creature until it was out of sight,
his spirits rising even as the sapiopod climbed higher into the
air. Force willing, Obi-Wan would soon be freed from
Palpatine's control.
In hindsight, however, the Jedi Master realized that he never
once questioned whether or not the Force was willing...
Deep in the bowels of Coruscant's historical repositories, a
hooded figure haunted the ancient Jedi records. There was
little chance that he would meet another soul in this dusty and
forgotten place, but he had to be careful. It wouldn't do at
all for someone in his leadership position to be observed
perusing the few remaining texts that contained information
about the Sith...
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