Jedi are the guardians of peace in the galaxy
Jedi use their powers to defend and to protect, never to attack
others
Jedi respect all life, in any form
Jedi serve others, rather than ruling over them, for the good
of the galaxy
Jedi seek to improve themselves through knowledge and
training
Jedi respect all life in any form. Jedi use their powers to
defend and to
protect, never to attack others.
Respect all life. To defend and protect, never to attack.
Respect. Defend
and protect.
Words. Important words but, somehow, no longer as important as
they should be.
Now in the tenth hour of his captivity, Qui-Gon found them to
be only words. Hollow words that did nothing to fill the
emptiness in his mind.
Oh, the Jedi code has been easy enough to call to mind and draw
comfort from during the first hour. For he had lived the code
for many, many years. At one time he believed he would have
chosen to follow such a code even if he had never heard of
Jedi.
The code had also brought solace. Torture, like anything else
unpleasant needed only to be endured. And the words had helped,
both in their meaning and in the sheer recitation all during
the third hour. Repeating the code had given him something to
occupy his thinking instead of dwelling on the raw feelings of
those performing acts that otherwise might have swamped his
mind and brought him even more discomfort than that of the new
physical pains.
The connection with his Padawan had helped more.
Although he had ruthlessly suppressed his own side of their
link when they had finally split up to ensure that Obi-Wan
would not be troubled by any feelings Qui-Gon could not
completely control, it had brought him great comfort to not be
so fully blocked from his Padawan despite Obi-Wan's attempt to
offer Qui-Gon the same consideration from distraction.
Over the years, Obi-Wan had always tried to mask his own
feelings of distress or injury, sometimes even to the point
that serious complications had arisen. But Qui-Gon had already
known how badly Obi-Wan hurt, both physically and emotionally.
Just as he had known how little control his Padawan could
currently exert over his Force use after two days of Force
abuse. So maybe the raw openness wasn't any indication of
greater problems.
Qui-Gon had not felt his Padawan sustain additional injury in
that desperate, final run, just his utter exhaustion, and then
a focused, steely determination and complete surrender of ego
to the outcome of a task so uniquely Obi-Wan, that it almost
broke Qui-Gon's heart.
When Qui-Gon had first encountered that focus years ago he had
turned from it, been repelled to see it brought to bear in what
he had thought to be for purely selfish motivations. Despite
Master Yoda's counseling, despite even what the Force told him,
for that reason he had refused to take Obi-Wan as his Padawan.
But during the subsequent journey to Bandomeer, then once on
the planet's surface, Qui-Gon had opportunity to see the truth
of such focus time and time again. And to see the sacrifice
Obi-Wan had always been willing to make, up to and including
his own death if such outcome would save and protect others. In
even leaving the Jedi to do what he thought was right for
others. In many ways even then Obi-Wan embodied the pureness of
the Jedi Code, something Qui-Gon had never truly seen before
within a youth.
Through the years that followed he had never yet regretted
making the choice to become a Master to a Padawan again,
willingly bearing the pains and pleasures such a relationship
brought with what he hoped to be graciousness and understanding
for the most part. Of course he and Obi-Wan disagreed.
Frequently. Yet just as often they thought or moved or fought
together in such perfect synchronicity it was as if one soul
shared two bodies.
No, he had no regrets.
But he did know times when their bond brought too much. Pain
and pleasure, sorrow and joy. Until Qui-Gon lost sight of who
and what he was in the light of who and what his Padawan was
becoming to him.
Such had happened to him once before, this surrender of self.
He had been blinded to a previous Padawan's faults, had refused
to listen to his elders, to the Force, to his own instincts
that the call of the Dark Side whispered into Xanatos' ear.
After that Qui-Gon had sworn never to take an apprentice again,
had consciously chosen never to get that close to anyone again.
Which became the first of two vows Obi-Wan had proved stronger
than. Padawan and friend/partner/son/other half. And while
Qui-Gon knew, knew, that such a siren call from the Dark
Side would never be heard by Obi-Wan, he also knew that should
the unthinkable happen this time, he would fall also.
Willingly.
Humbling to be so vulnerable to another, Qui-Gon knew that
while such closeness could be and often was a source of great
strength, it could also be his undoing.
There is no passion, only serenity. There is no death only
Force.
No death, only Force. No death ...
And no comfort, despite his training, his one time belief in
such words. Just as Obi-Wan had refused to take comfort in
those words.
At the white flare of total oblivion that overwhelmed his
Padawan, the so unexpected and overwhelming sense of Obi-Wan's
death, Qui-Gon could no longer even think rationally. He
reached out to distances that echoed with infinity, for a link
that couldn't be. And found exactly what he had expected.
Nothing.
In an instant of betrayal and clarity, Qui-Gon forgot the code,
forgot the mission, forgot everything but the certainty of
Obi-Wan's death and the lies of the Force.
Damn, but it would be so much easier if they could count on the
Tiasians to want to use Qui-Gon as the assassin.
"Actually, only his body would have to be available to present
as evidence after," one of the senate guards pointed out
reluctantly. "As assassin, terrorist or in both duties. The
Tiasians have already proven they have enough video footage of
Master Jinn to fake the first part."
Well, yes. And necessary to point out, since it was something
Mace hadn't considered. Still ...
He checked out Obi-Wan's reaction to such a bald statement and
felt pride for Qui-Gon's Padawan. The other had simply nodded
at the guard with no flicker of anger or fear crossing his
face. Obi-Wan even managed a tired acknowledgment of gratitude
when Jame couldn't stop herself from squeezing his arm in
wordless sympathy, for all that he had been ignoring her
hovering after struggling out of the medical quarters.
Actually, Mace felt pride in them both. Jame and Obi-Wan had
agreed to the roles he had laid out for them without protest
and, more importantly, had agreed to the necessity of such
roles. Mace expected both would much rather land, confront and
fight instead of taking the more passive approach, the approach
that might not end in Qui-Gon's rescue.
Undoubtedly some form of fight or other violence would be
likely no matter which path the plan took, of course, and Mace
wished dearly he could keep both out of participating in the
landing entirely, but also knew such a wish to be impossible as
well as unfair. Obi-Wan and Jame were both more than capable of
handling the risk, save for a broken bone or two, psychic shock
and an uncontrollable temper and general belief in immortality.
For Mace to refuse them their place would have done only his
nerves any good. No good for even his brain, and certainly not
his heart, no matter the outcome. They deserved this even if it
went badly; they deserved his confidence and trust.
Ultimately Obi-Wan's presence and testimony would be necessary
anyway, regardless of whether they managed their plan with or
without violence, to challenge the military's lies.
"We will accept even his body," Asherae said from her position
on Obi-Wan's other side, and opposite Mace. She, too, had made
a move to touch Obi-Wan, but the swath of bandages and sling
that N'sek had used to secure the young Jedi's broken arm to
his body checked her hand.
Or maybe it was Jame's wordless, barely heard growl.
Even more baldly spoken, but Mace censured no one for honesty
even while he might wish for more tact, especially from a
Knight. Given her aborted movement Mace decided Asherae had
meant the words to be comforting despite the fierceness of her
tone and expression, that if they couldn't save him from death,
they could at least bring Qui-Gon home. Give Obi-Wan closure.
Mace certainly hoped she hadn't meant it as a challenge to her
civilian counterpart's words.
While elite beings of every planet's security, police and
military forces from within the Republic filled the Senate
Guard, no Jedi had ever held such a post despite the
similarities in avid neutrality and a duty to serve the greater
good over an individual's politics, religious, cast or civic
beliefs. Both Guard and Jedi held ideals and codes that defined
their duties to that greater good, and many of those tenets
overlapped. Both, however, were also comprised of beings who
could be sometimes prideful, occasionally irrational, and
fallible. With rivalries and jealousies happening even within
the hallowed halls of the Jedi temple, it would be too much to
expect it not to occur occasionally between cross-service
branches.
Mace could only hope that any difficulties if they existed
would be worked out or forgotten once the two took their places
within the plan. He knew they were professionals and good
people at heart.
Unfortunately, the difficulties stemming from the other rivalry
in this room would not likely be as easily worked out.
Especially if Asherae's words had been meant to comfort.
Normally Mace wouldn't have thought twice about skimming
Asherae's thoughts toward Padawan Kenobi. Passions could lead
to trouble as quickly as its counterparts of competition, envy
or jealousy. Not that the Council discouraged liaisons between
Jedi, of course. But relationships did have to be monitored. By
a Master if it involved a Padawan or Knight, by the Council if
it involved a Master. So he was well within his purview to do
so
And who watches the watchers? Mace had to question
himself as such thoughts brought his fellow Council Member, and
current bed partner to mind.
Oh, Adi, how I miss you.
Trouble between Jedi usually occurred as it did between any two
people: one of the pairing did not return the same level of
affection. Long term resentments or festering jealousies rarely
resulted between Jedi since, while it might be possible to
shield feelings, Jedi couldn't lie in common exchanges mind to
mind, much less in the deeper bonds usually formed in closer
relationships. Both Jedi would be aware of any doubts or
discoveries in their partners, and in the ultra rare instances
of two Jedi growing so beyond compatibility that they could no
longer interact even for the sake of a mission, well, the
Republic was vast and the Jedi few in comparison. Separate
positions were then offered, or schedules rearranged so as not
to make an uncomfortable situation worse.
When only one of the pairing was Jedi, however, relationships
faltered more often than they succeeded. No matter how close,
no matter how much in love, the ultimate melding of two into
one could only happen within the Force, a fact no Jedi could
ignore even when they wanted to. The sense of incompleteness
when one half of the pairing had no connection could be
overcome only by the rarest of souls.
That had been one of the reasons Mace had been happy to hear
Jame's earlier confession. He and Qui-Gon had been well aware
of the affection between Jame and Obi-Wan, knew too, that they
had tumbled each other into bed on more than one occasion over
the last year. While neither Master doubted Obi-Wan's honesty
about his lack of deep feelings for her, Mace had still feared
Jame might have convinced herself the young Jedi would one day
change his mind and, therefore, that she would eventually grow
bitter when her hope never came true.
A fate he wished on no one, but especially Jame, who had become
as much a daughter to him as had his last Padawan.
Which is why his observations of the interactions between
Asherae, Obi-Wan and Jame made him uncomfortable. Asherae had
made subtle overtures toward Obi-Wan at least twice. The
Padawan had shown no evidence of noticing, a lapse Mace
sincerely hoped due to Obi-Wan's understandable preoccupation
with his injuries and concerns for his Master, and not from any
specific attempt to be callous toward Asherae, or to tease and
encourage either woman in their rivalry.
Jame had certainly noticed Asherae's attentions, however, and
exhibited signs of possessiveness that could be interpreted as
inappropriate given her new-found acknowledgment of not being
in love. That Obi-Wan hadn't particularly noticed Jame's
behavior either, gave Mace more reassurances of the young
Jedi's distracted state.
This lack of certainty involving those for whom Mace had taken
responsibility also brought him distress as it pointed out a
potentially serious vulnerability within his own thinking. He
just hoped this lack was not a flaw in overall Jedi training,
that it was his alone even though its presence meant hours of
meditation and study would yet be in store for him at a later
time.
At N'sek's insistence and Mace's own reluctant approval, the
Healer had subjected Obi-Wan to a testing of the severity of
the psychic shock, and had come up with several unpleasant
conclusions. Not only did Obi-Wan's use of the Force bring only
agony, the use of Force directed by another toward him
was no more pleasant. Even worse, any overt use of the Force
around Obi-Wan also caused severe reaction, even when the
Padawan was not involved in either end of the rapport. This
meant that Mace, N'sek and Asherae had all chosen not to use
their abilities except in an extreme emergency for the time
being.
This meant that Mace's determination of the level of
interactions within this group dynamic might be flawed without
confirmation within the Force, as he had only his instincts.
Not knowing bothered him a great deal. Not knowing whether he
could trust his instincts bothered him even more.
An individual Jedi might have deficiencies in performing
certain tasks just like someone without rapport and training in
the Force, so most field work was performed by a team who could
offset each other's flaws and complement the strengths. But if
this particular flaw of doubting judgments made from
observation was universal, if Jedi could not even accomplish
what any non Jedi school child could because of an unhealthy
reliance on the Force, well, then steps would have to be taken.
Enough drugs and devices existed (not to mention injuries),
that could impede Force use, and far too many people were
willing to use such methods in an attempt of mastery over the
Jedi. The potential of willfully giving others advantage due to
complacency in their abilities definitely needed to be further
investigated.
"When do you think the assassination attempt will come?" the
second Senate Guardsman asked.
Mace paused to rub his finger across his chin -- a nervous
habit when he wasn't confident in an answer -- which gave
Obi-Wan first opportunity to speak. "The initial landing," he
stated with such conviction that Mace raised his brow and both
guards frowned at the young Jedi in skepticism. Despite their
doubts Obi-Wan showed no reaction and exhibited no doubts of
his own.
"Why not after we've settled into the guest quarters, or during
the induction ceremony?" the guard challenged. Just to be
difficult. Or to try to insure his own value to this pretty
rarefied group, if the guard felt a little too much awe in
Jedi.
"Because Master Windu is right, the takeover can only succeed
if those now in power stay unquestioned by their own people.
And that works only as long as Qui-Gon is blamed. For both
terrorists acts."
Mace could see the effort Obi-Wan made to keep voice and
frustration in check, but doubted either Guard had noticed, or
would appreciate the effort.
Even though both young men were reacting from the same
insecurity.
How difficult it must be to have so many others question your
abilities solely because of your appearance of youth.
"I agree in the reasoning that the Tiasian insurrectionists
will want Master Jinn as a scapegoat," Asherae began slowly,
"but I don't understand why you think that means it'll happen
at the space port. Surely they would have easier opportunities
to orchestrate an attack elsewhere. Another explosion, perhaps,
or some sort of attack in an environment they can fully control
by planting their own people, like the hotel. The spaceport
would have too many innocents around."
Obi-Wan gave a brittle smile her way, but he gave his answer to
Mace. "They've already shown a casual disregard for collateral
damages, so I would doubt they fear innocents getting caught up
in the event. We have all agreed the success of the coup stems
on keeping their own people ignorant of the truth of their
coming into the leadership, and in keeping the Republic
ignorant of anything having happened until it is too late.
Thus, the Chancellor cannot have the opportunity to hear about
the deaths of those they will be impersonating, or hear about
the destruction of the ceremonial site, which means he has to
be eliminated right away." His lips twisted into more of a
smile, but still holding only irony, holding no trace of humor.
"Same conclusion, for they cannot let their news gatherers have
the opportunity to question the Chancellor on his reactions to
the events, or on who supposedly perpetrated them," he
continued. "But they need those news gatherers present to film
the assassination. Every minute beyond landing creates too many
opportunities for the fiction to be uncovered." Obi-Wan closed
his eyes for an instant, barely longer than a blink, but when
they reopened, the shudders of his despair had also opened for
Mace to see.
"Lastly, they won't be able to hold Qui-Gon indefinitely,
unless they only want a body for this. Even they have to
realize the longer they hold him, the greater likelihood he'll
escape. Or die under their ministrations."
More than anything Mace wanted to be able to reach out with the
Force and offer the solace so obviously needed by Qui-Gon's
Padawan. Obi-Wan had done a credible job in masking his body's
reactions to the pain he was feeling, but emotional distress
showed clearly in those haunted eyes. Yet Mace could do nothing
to soothe that distress or the suppressed physical problems
since Obi-Wan's hyper sensitivity to any use of the Force had
also prevented any accelerated healing.
Which led Mace back to thinking that someone with Obi-Wan's
injuries shouldn't have even been out of the medical facility
had he been able to enter into a healing trance, much less
without having had such an opportunity. Obviously four hours of
sleep had done nothing other than give tendons and muscles time
to stiffen. Those hours hadn't remotely begun to lessen the
bruised and pinched look in Obi-Wan's face, nor restore any of
the depleted energy stolen from within to maintain the levels
of activity he and Qui-Gon had found necessary to use to
survive. Mace wouldn't be surprised to learn Obi-Wan had
dropped at least ten pounds in those fifty hours from a frame
already lean and replete of extra mass.
The emotional hurts, of course, had been even more
ignored/denied than the physical ones. Obi-Wan had pulled
himself from the medical bed as quickly as he could manage and
had talked to no one about what had happened on T'ias other
than in direct response to the plan to free Qui-Gon. He had
pointedly ignored any thinly concealed dismay or offered pity.
But, as evidenced in those gray eyes, that control was
definitely fading.
No. The young Jedi's presence would increase the likelihood of
the plan's success if for no other reason than his knowledge of
their opponents and the fact that he was the only one present
who had ever set foot on the planet. Mace also knew that
Obi-Wan would willingly endure anything -- everything --
necessary to ensure his Master's freedom; even in going along
with a plan primarily set to expose a fraud instead of securing
that freedom. Even to disobeying and sneaking out on his own
should he be ordered to stay aboard.
A good leader never gave an ordered he knew would be disobeyed.
The bond between Master and Padawan was like that between
parent and child, sometimes even closer since the Master chose
his Apprentice willingly. Or the Apprentice the Master, as in
Obi-Wan's and Qui-Gon's case, thanks to a judicious push from
the Force according to Master Yoda. Seeing how difficult a time
Obi-Wan was having with that disruption of the bond -- knowing
it hurt more than his disruption from the Force -- Mace truly
feared what might happen should Obi-Wan be forced to live with
Qui-Gon's death.
While death to one in such a relationship should be keenly
felt, this also seemed to be encompassing something even more
profound, something Mace found himself unwilling to even
contemplate any more in this moment. Which left him able only
to watch as Obi-Wan endured the pain right along with the pity,
the skepticism and the doubts, and had to marvel at the display
of grace that lapsed neither into anger or despair. At least
not openly.
At least not yet.
"Master Windu?" came the pilot's voice clearly over the room's
twin speakers. "We are now within orbit of T'ias, and I have
one of President Tsi's Ministers on the comm for you."
Mace swept his gaze over the others then leaned forward to open
the connection back to the pilot. "Extend our apologies and
request a moment's more of time."
"Yes sir." The connection clicked silent on both ends.
No more time for planning; it was time to go with what they
had. And hope it would be enough.
"Jame, have you and N'sek finished with our Chancellor's image
and that of his head of security?"
N'sek's five years with Valorum and his people should have
yielded enough casual observations to make a proper template,
even if N'sek hadn't been Jedi, but had there been time enough
for Jame to complete the programming?
They both nodded, though only Jame showed any expression of
confidence. Obi-Wan seemed to echo the confidence, Mace noted
with a bit of surprise, given the other's carefully maintained
facade of detachment. But then the Padawan already had evidence
of Jame's skill in manufacturing holographic computer imagery.
"Do you want us to leave?" Asherae asked with a higher level of
perception than Mace had previously credited her for. It would
be better to have fewer ... witnesses to this next part.
"Any sounds will transmit live to them below," Jame provided
quickly. "I've been able to fix the frequency of the filter to
act on Mace's voice, but anyone else will be heard for whom
they are. And even subvocals will be picked up, so it might be
better to have fewer." She frowned and looked slightly
embarrassed. Apologetic.
"The audio of this trick just isn't sophisticated enough to
work with a crowd. It's usually only used by a single
opportunist against a ... against any unwanted opposition. The
trick is more visual than vocal."
"One or two of you should be up on the bridge in case they've
elected not to wait until we disembark for their attack,
anyway," Mace directed. "Asherae, if you would?"
She nodded.
"And we might as well start downtime shifts; I don't know when
sleeping or eating will occur again until we're done, so
another should go with Asherae while the other goes off shift."
Mace would leave it to the two guards to decide that division
themselves.
"I should ensure medical is ready," N'sek offered. "Any
glitches in the program at this stage can only be corrected
electronically, for which I will be of no use. And if there is
battle --"
Mace noted Jame's short nod of agreement that she could handle
anything more with the program without assistance, and gave one
of his own. He then signaled for her and Obi-Wan to stay.
Although the Padawan wouldn't be able to say anything during
the transmission since his voice could be recognized, Mace
thought Obi-Wan's perceptions could still be useful. And since
Mace planned to insist Qui-Gon participate in this check too if
he could pull it off, Obi-Wan deserved the chance to be able to
see his Master live instead of a holo recording to review
afterward.
In the time it took the four to depart, Jame finished the
hookup into the ship's comm system and had her phantasm program
at the ready. She then set up a screen on the galley table that
would project images of those on T'ias. Although Mace knew the
likelihood of catching the terrorists visually in a lie to be
slim, the possibility couldn't be overlooked since the distance
between the ship and moon precluded the opportunity to use the
Force to confirm the truth.
Of course, with Obi-Wan present, using the Force even if the
distance wasn't too far would be out anyway.
"Are you two ready?"
Jame smiled, while Obi-Wan just nodded, lips pressed tightly in
a thin white line.
"Jame?" Mace asked suddenly, "how many times have you used
something like this on me?"
She blushed bright red and, thankfully, Obi-Wan's expression
softened for at least that moment. He even met Mace's gaze and
consciously made the effort to unclench his fingers. Before
Jame could stammer out an answer, however, Asherae signaled
from the bridge that those below were getting anxious.
"You will be speaking with a Merick Foltune, Master Windu. The
Minister of Protocol."
Obi-Wan gave a brief, abrupt shake of his head. The deceptions
had already begun. Apparently Foltune had not been the one
Minister to have survived the explosions.
"Greetings Minister Foltune," Mace began. The playback from
Jame's program had his tone, accent and timbre transformed to
one of a mild-mannered, middle-aged human male and at a higher
pitch than Mace's own. Quite acceptable for an administrative
aide. "If it pleases you, I, Wyneth Morint, will be handling
this set of arrangements on behalf of our Chancellor."
"It was my understanding that Sei Talia would be performing
this duty, Sri Morint," the one representing to be the Minister
of Protocol said. He had an edge to his voice although his
expression coming back across the link showed little more than
bland boredom.
While the computer setup would have translated an expression
that allowed Mace to show the surprise he felt at Foltune's
referral to one who might have actually recognized the
deception being perpetrated, his Jedi training would not. "Lady
Talia regrets she could not attend," he temporized while he
tried to figure out the other's intent. Sei Talia hadn't been
traveling with the Chancellor this time, although yes, she did
often accompany him off Coruscant. Mace wondered how this one
had even heard of her.
"Pity," came back the response, although again, tone didn't
match expression. For an instant Mace had to wonder if his
counter part was trying the same sort of deception between
speaker and image, but that would only make sense if this image
matched the known image of Foltune.
"I had heard of her beauty from Minister Khato, and had hoped
to see such for myself," the false Foltune continued.
Although he curbed his reaction just as quickly as he had his
previous head movement, something in that last statement had
caught Obi-Wan off guard. Mace stood poised to block the
circuit regardless of how it might look to those they dealt
with, but Obi-Wan signaled no, leaving Mace ... curious.
"I will pass on his compliments." Very glad he hadn't intimated
any contact between Lady Talia and Minister Foltune as he
almost thought to do, Mace abruptly realized this wasn't going
to be as easy as he'd hoped. He had far too little information
with regard to any previous meetings between representatives of
the two governments. They hadn't figured on that being a
significant problem, having assumed the Tiasians would be as
wary of slip-ups on their own part. This Tiasian, however, was
even bolder -- or more reckless -- than supposed.
"Please pass on my own compliments to your Chancellor. All of
T'ias is eagerly awaiting his arrival."
Mace could just imagine.
"Ah, yes, as to that." Mace paused and cleared his throat. "I
know the intent is to make this contact and then conduct a
preliminary meeting this evening to deal with any last changes
before tomorrow's formal ceremony, but the Chancellor begs an
indulgence to finish any changes now and delay our landing
until tomorrow morning."
Mace had not brought up this part of his plan to any of the
others after N'sek had approached him privately with the
suggestion. Obi-Wan, as expected, shot Mace a glance of great
distress. Yet the nature of their deception kept the young Jedi
from being able to protest, as Mace had also taken into account
when decided to try this.
He had not become a member of the Jedi Council because he
always played fair.
It had been N'sek's opinion that Obi-Wan would greatly benefit
from more rest, perhaps even to the point of being able to
connect again to the Force. Even if the benefit was more time
to heal physically, although N'sek was at least hoping for the
Padawan to not be so adversely affected when others used the
Force around him. The Healer in N'sek had been unwilling to
subject Obi-Wan to the discomfort, despite Obi-Wan's
willingness to endure whatever necessary so long as he could
take part, as had the Master in Mace. Of course, the delay also
meant Qui-Gon staying in the opposition's hands for the
additional length of time.
Mace refused to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. He was the Master, dammit,
and a member of the Council! If he had to make a hard decision,
he would, and he'd not let even this Padawan
"Problems, Sri Morint?"
Unconsciously Mace waved his hand as if the other could see his
visage and movement. He quickly wrenched his attention from the
drama within to deal with the drama below.
"Nothing too distressful, Minister Foltune," he said quickly.
"Just a minor mix-up on our parts. Due to your most
understandable concern with how your citizens would react to
some of the more ... exotic members of our Republic, the
replacement representatives have not had sufficient time to
review their roles in the ceremony and they fear failure in
doing their honor to T'ias. But if it would cause difficulties
on your part, I'm sure we can muddle through."
"No, no, Sri Morint. We would be happy to oblige you time. Will
six hours be sufficient?"
Mace would have been quite happy for ten and had hoped for at
least eight, but contented himself that the dictates of
diplomatic courtesy had forced the other to give him the six.
He had by no means been sure they'd have enough presence of
mind with regard to their charade to acquiesce to this
unexpected demand and give him any.
One deviation to standard protocol down ...
"Why, yes, that would be most gracious of you, Minister."
"Since you are in minor straits of distress, perhaps we should
dispense with anything further than the final security
arrangements, Sri Molint?" the impostor suggested next. "While
it is always pleasant to chat with inf outsiders, well,
business before pleasure." The other's hardened. For a moment
Mace was concern that it might be at something untoward from
their transmission point, but Jame quickly waived away Mace's
concerns and split the screen to show what she had done.
Mace's assumed persona had taken on an edge to his expression
himself, still quite in keeping with a one involved in the
Chancellor's security, however. Or someone not quite able to
hide his unhappiness at the near grave insult. T'ias had a
reputation of being insular within the Galactic community, but
apparently some were more truly xenophobic. Or bigoted.
"I understand, Minister Foltune." Mace allowed no other
reaction to carry through his voice. The other's eagerness to
end things gave him the perfect opportunity to broach deviation
number two.
"Then if I could talk to our advance team, I'm sure we can
conclude this meeting to our mutual benefit, letting us both
return to our other duties."
The other actually looked pleased. "Ah, yes. I had anticipated
your request, Sri Molint. Give me just a moment to have your
Ambassador summoned
Mace nodded and signaled Jame to blank the circuit for that
moment. Only then he allowed his gaze to settle onto Obi-Wan
and was taken aback by the fire in the other's eyes, the waves
of distress he didn't need the Force to read. The six hour
delay.
"Calm yourself, Padawan Kenobi!" he commanded in a voice that
would brook no disobedience. "I obtained those hours to allow
you and Qui-Gon more opportunity to heal."
Obi-Wan said nothing, but neither did he lower his intense gaze
away from Mace.
"Now that we will be seeing Qui-Gon," Mace continued more
calmly himself, "they will have no reason to harm him further,
not without raising alarms in us that would jeopardize their
plan. They won't do anything, not when they're this close."
And if you're wrong?
It hadn't been said out loud; Mace didn't really think he had
heard it from the other in his mind either, since using the
Force was still beyond Obi-Wan. The voice, therefore, must have
been his own. His doubts.
Or guilty conscience in that he might be wrong.
"They're transmitting again." Jame's words broke the staring
contest.
The sight of Qui-Gon, however, did nothing but ratchet up the
tension in both Jedi.
Like Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon's face bore the effects of two days of
living primarily on bodily resources. Yet on the larger man the
weight loss didn't appear as drastic unless one knew to look.
At least his captors had taken steps to insure the Jedi Master
looked healthy: clean clothing and hair, no visible bruises,
cuts or contusions showing. If one hadn't been able to see into
Qui-Gon's eyes in an otherwise expression of neutral detachment
that matched the one on Obi-Wan's face, they might have been
fooled. The Chancellor's people undoubtedly would have been
fooled had no warning been given.
For long moments there was only silence, and with a silent
curse to himself, Mace realized Qui-Gon was waiting, that the
other had no clue to the name of this persona they had devised.
Yet an ambassador would be expected to know at least every
important member of the Chancellor's traveling party,
especially those involved in the security arrangements. He
turned to Jame and started to signal for her to blank the
transmission, but she shook her head and gave him an impudent
grin.
Oh great, she had an idea.
"A moment, please, Sri Molint," Jame said loudly while quickly
working the keys of her terminal. Her voice had obviously been
heard on the other end. Her words. And maybe recognized. But at
least the cue had been.
Mace breathed a sigh of relief. to see Qui-Gon incline his head
in acknowledgment.
"If you would excuse me for just another moment, Ambassador
Jinn?" Mace extended when Jame signaled needing just a few more
seconds.
"Of course, Sri Molint," came Qui-Gon's swift response.
Mace waited then took the commpad Jame offered. He couldn't
keep the grin off his face as he read it. She really was quite
the clever girl, not only helping Qui-Gon play along, but
suggesting something even more useful to the other.
"Ambassador Jinn, I've just been reminded of a message to pass
onto you from a friend of yours back home," he began carefully.
Qui-Gon said nothing, and his expression showed only polite
interest. His eyes, however, held a look of anticipation. This
was definitely a deviation from standard security checks.
"Apparently in the haste of your most recent plans, you let go
of an object you have likely missed having with you and fear
might have become lost. Your friend Jame wants you to rest
assured that she is looking after it and will keep it safe
until the time she can return it to you. It's battered about
the edges, but --"
"Please give Jame my sincerest thanks for the message, Sri
Molint." Again, anyone who didn't know Qui-Gon could be reading
anything but a Jedi's serenity in the other's poise, tone or
body language. But his eyes told quite a different story. "I
would have been quite bereft to have lost it."
"Quite so, Ambassador. But on to business. Are you satisfied
with the arrangements?"
Qui-Gon kept his expression quite neutral, but Mace could have
sworn he saw the very rudiments of a smile that disappeared
before it could be noted.
"I was able to take all the time I needed to observe the final
preparations, Sri Molint. And I find little to discomfort me."
Mace let out a breath, and noticed a notch of tension seemed to
lessen in Obi-Wan.
"Are there any changes or conditions I should make the
Chancellor aware of?" he continued.
Qui-Gon's thinned lips appeared to be more to challenge those
who remained off screen, as if he expected to be stopped or
interrupted at any time.
"No, I am confident everything is as you've been informed, Sri
Molint. Like all of T'ias, I am greatly anticipating tomorrow's
events. Am I correct in my understanding that the Chancellor
will not be landing until the dawn?"
"Yes. And he is expecting to see you amongst his well-wishers,
Ambassador, despite your penchant for sleeping in. Perhaps I
should enlist the aid of your hosts to ensure this happens?"
Mace could have sworn he saw a twinkle in Qui-Gon's eyes this
time. Certainly the bleak despair no longer showed as anything
more than an echo of memory and regret.
"If you insist, Sri Molint; I am sure my hosts will be happy to
make sure I am present. Nor would I care to disappoint those
who are relying on me."
Definitely a twinkle. Although Mace hadn't had the need to
fence with words in over a decade, it had been a game he and
Qui-Gon had quite enjoyed when they had traveled as knights
together. Indeed, sometimes their verbal sparring had been the
only pleasures to be found in tedious diplomatic affairs. This
would be fun, if the consequences of a mistake weren't so dire.
Had let his talent for intrigue lapse upon taking the Council
seat, too?
The man identified as Foltune came back into view at this
point. Qui-Gon shot him a measured look that caused Obi-Wan to
catch his breath, but the Jedi Master only stood slowly and
moved out of the range of the optics.
"And we are finished then, Sri Molint?" the false Minister
asked. "You are satisfied with the arrangements and all can
proceed as planned?"
"Yes, quite satisfied, Minister Foltune, I am quite looking
forward to tomorrow, as I know all of us aboard are. Yet as you
may have heard, Ambassador Jinn's presence is most critical
tomorrow morning; again just a few minor details have to be
dealt with on our end. I hope that will cause no problems on
your end? I'm sure his assistant can answer any last minute
questions that might come up."
The other's smile had a brittle quality to it.
Or perhaps Mace read into it only what he expected.
"Please rest assured, that I will personally see to it that the
Ambassador is prepared for tomorrow, Sri Molint."
Knowing what they did, one didn't need to be a Jedi to sense
the threat in the other's words. Verbal fencing seemed to be a
common hobby.
"Until tomorrow, then, Minister." Mace signaled the
transmission to be cut for the final time, then released a
large breath. That had gone quite well. Which meant tomorrow
but no, he would give no indication of his doubts to the other
two.
Instead Mace steepled his fingers, lowering his chin onto them
and shot an appraising gaze to the others across from him.
"What did you observe from the conversation, Padawan Kenobi?
Tell me what you know instead of what you fear."
The young Jedi was obviously terrified and angry at the risks
Mace had taken with his Master's life, and was having trouble
reconciling those feelings with the gratitude and relief he
also felt for what the risks had offered to him. Not
surprisingly, the anger seemed to win out as the only emotion
that would allow him to keep some semblance of control.
For long seconds Obi-Wan did nothing but continue to stare at
Mace, mouth set in unforgiving lines, eyes cold and
challenging.
Yet it had been more years than Obi-Wan had been alive since
Mace had let a Padawan intimidate him.
Mace just waited, with patience, compassion. And finally
Obi-Wan let his gaze drop. The young Jedi then leaned forward
himself and closed his eyes. Mace watched in fascination as the
other closed and opened his fingers on the one hand he could
move, thought not into a fist or as a threat. More like an
exercise to release tension, the only visible evidence of a
normally active body's reaction to having had to keep still for
so long.
"The most obvious thing I noticed," Obi-Wan began at last in an
almost even tone, "is that the Tiasians still don't know a
fucking thing about Jedi."
The obscenity didn't surprise Mace as much as the observation.
Obi-Wan had mentioned Tiasian ignorance during the initial
debriefing, however other things had taken precedence and no
explanation had been requested. While Mace wondered why Obi-Wan
thought this to be true, he wondered more about what in the
conversation had led Qui-Gon's Padawan to offer such a
statement again. Mace had gotten no such impression himself.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes only long enough to catch Mace's
surprise, and offered a humorless smile. "Forgive me, Master
Windu, I misspoke."
Before Mace could excuse the evidence of disrespect that the
profanity represented as understandable in this instance,
Obi-Wan continued. And Mace was both chagrined and amused that
the other was not apologizing for the inappropriate language.
He couldn't help but raise a brow, and then scowl at Jame's
snigger.
Obi-Wan didn't notice either reaction.
"My Master has escaped at least once from his captors," he
reported as neutrally as if it were he and Qui-Gon offering
observances to the full Council. "And he is confident he can do
so again. He is injured, but healing, and nothing currently is
crippling or life threatening."
The slight emphasis on the word currently didn't surprise Mace
anymore than the carefully detached tone. He ignored it, too,
but could not completely disavow the guilt it was intended to
engender.
"And my Master has learned nothing to contradict our
conclusions that the assassination will take place at the
spaceport, just at arrival."
"You got all of that out of three innocuous exchanges?" Jame
voiced amazement before Mace could offer praise. Or amazement
of his own.
He had known Qui-Gon and his Padawan shared an extraordinary
closeness; the Council relied on it probably more than they
should, in fact, for it made the two very effective in their
field work. But this bordered on being able to read each
other's thoughts. And while that was possible to some small
extent in some Jedi pairings, certainly the distances involved
here would preclude anything like that, just as did Obi-Wan's
psychic injuries. Obviously he knew his Master's way of
thinking very, very well.
"I understood the bit about the spaceport," Mace acknowledged,
and bit back a sharper comment when he realized he had done so
only to show that he knew Qui-Gon pretty well himself. Not
jealousy, of course; he and Qui-Gon had long since stopped
being partners in any form of the word. No, more like envy that
someone so young could be so aptly skilled.
In the future if they could ever manage to convince Obi-Wan
that Qui-Gon's disdain of the Council's purpose was misguided,
there very well might be a new age mark for the youngest Jedi
ever to become a member.
"Everything being as I've been informed meaning Qui-Gon
stands by whatever scenario you may have presented to us." Mace
didn't mention that it was a rare Master that would ever have
so trusted their Padawan's observances and conclusions to the
Council, much less publicly praise the apprentice for them.
When the conclusions proved wrong, both Master and Apprentice
ended up paying for the misjudgment, sometimes to the effect of
severing the pairing.
Well, in this instance if they were wrong, the entire Republic
might end up paying for it.
Not that Obi-Wan needed that added pressure to any self-doubts
he might be having in taking the lead in trying to contain this
overall incident.
"Please explain about the rest of your conclusions." Mace sat
back in his chair before he could find himself grabbing
Obi-Wan's clenching/unclenching hand. Or before he started
doing the same type of action himself.
Shouldn't the tension have been fading?
"Take all the time I needed to observe ..." Obi-Wan
recited back, eyes still closed and voice unwittingly taking on
Qui-Gon's inflections though in his more cultured accent. "He
was able to move about their headquarters unchallenged."
"Which would not be very likely if he were in restraints," Jame
agreed. She had finished disconnecting her equipment from the
ship's communications system and now walked over to resume her
seat next to Obi-Wan.
"Actually, it's more that the restraints posed no problem for
him, Jame."
Although Obi-Wan still didn't open his eyes, Mace could see him
tilt his head enough to follow her movements, and could see the
barest tremble in the young Jedi's shoulders when she slid the
chair close enough that she could drape her arm over them and
give a partial hug. All at once Mace was again reminded of how
much he was asking of a Padawan only just twenty one. In the
face of Obi-Wan's composure and efficiency despite his pain,
anger and fear, it had been easy to forget that the other had
to be holding himself away from a perfectly understandable
collapse by sheer will. Obi-Wan should be in medical should
actually be in a bacta tank and not be sitting here assisting
in the planning of an action that would undoubtedly turn
violent and make even heavier demands.
Mace had to wonder whether Jame's comfort was accepted simply
due to a form of special magic only women seemed able to cast,
or because of the past relationship between the two. Neither
reason particularly mattered; Mace just knew how grateful he
was that someone could offer the comfort.
"What about Qui-Gon's injuries?" Mace prompted, keeping his own
tone even. The responsibility of Padawan to Master had kept
Obi-Wan focused and in control so far. More solace might
actually undo that. At least coming from him.
"I find little to discomfort me," Obi-Wan quoted
promptly, his eyes finally opening and looking Mace's
direction. The gray of disquiet, at least, instead of the
stormy blue of banked anger. "Little. So not seriously injured,
but not uninjured, either. My Master finds it annoying but
manageable. I can only hope it means he has sustained few added
injuries since his captivity."
"Added?"
Then Mace could have kicked himself. Of course Qui-Gon had to
have experienced earlier injury for Obi-Wan to have been in the
shape they had found him in. Otherwise the Master would have
used all his power on Obi-Wan's behalf, although the Jedi
healing talents were not his forte.
But the young Jedi simply nodded, loosing all the tightness of
his anger; releasing Mace from the silent accusations of being
responsible since it was the Council who had sent the two here.
And Mace was suddenly reminded of when Obi-Wan had been
fifteen, when Qui-Gon had been laid up for over a month due to
an illness contracted from caring for his Padawan who had
caught it first during one of their many trips off Coruscant.
It certainly hadn't been Obi-Wan's fault, and there had been
nothing anyone could have done to prevent it from happening,
but that hadn't kept the boy from being miserable, or feeling
guilty.
Obi-Wan must have been able to read something of those memories
from Mace's expression, for the other tried immediately to
reclaim his control and took a deep breath, forgetting until
too late about his ribs. Pain and lack of air turned his skin
ashen and undid all efforts of centering back into some
semblance of calm. This time Obi-Wan didn't resist when Jame
nudged her chair until almost touching his, then reach to
gather the Padawan gently within the embrace of her arms.
It was from that comfort that Obi-Wan could finally begin to
talk about what had actually happened on T'ias instead of just
reporting the results.
"The coup started with a series of explosions, during which my
Master sustained a dislocated shoulder and cracked scapula
amongst other injuries. Worse though was the five inch piece of
jagged shrapnel that penetrated his outer thigh. Even before
helping me, before the two days of running he was experiencing
significant blood loss." He shuddered.
"The first night we tried to sneak into one of the smaller
agrarian communities that had responsibilities over the forest
preserve we had been moving through. But all of the video and
audio transmissions were replaying their version of the events
over and over again, branding us murderers. We couldn't chance
asking for help, or even to steal food or supplies. And there
were patrols everywhere. We never stopped moving for more than
a few minutes."
The lack of emotion lack of even inflection was back in voice
and expression. Mace found himself almost more distressed in
seeing and hearing that than he did the events, horrific though
they were.
"Qui-Gon kept us hidden with the Force. Kept us moving. The
troops never could figure out how to compensate for it, not
even the droids."
"So why have they so misunderstood the abilities of the Jedi?"
Jame gently changed the subject. "Surely during their own
ambassadors visit to Coruscant and the Senate, they saw the
Temple? I mean its presence is a little hard to miss."
Obi-Wan peered up from beneath lowered lashes, not at Jame, but
again toward Mace, and offered a look that made the Master Jedi
even more uncomfortable.
"Because the Jedi have encouraged the Tiasian government to
ignore the words their own people brought back." Now the look
was almost an accusation. "Belief in the Force violates their
religious freedoms and involves about fifty cultural taboos."
"But how can they refuse to believe in something that produces
tangible effects?" Jame offered a near laugh in her amazement
of such ignorance. "I mean, religion is fine, but some of their
own people have to been sensitive."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth but then paused, keeping his eyes on
Mace's as if encouraging him to contradict. Or take over the
telling.
Mace waited too long to put his own thoughts in order to
explain.
"Any of their own people who exhibit any sensitivity or
affinity to the Force are institutionalized as soon as such
behavior is observed. Drugs or therapy is used to ... cure them
of the affliction." He closed his eyes, not doubt remembering
what he and Qui-Gon had found upon their arrival; the real
reason the Council had sent the two to the highly xenophobic
moon of T'ias using the cover of being there to oversee the
ceremony preparations. For years the Jedi had heard rumors,
from traders and maybe a handful of immigrants. Refugees. When
finally the opportunity to discover the trust first hand had
arisen
"When therapy doesn't work, the Force sensitives are ritually
killed so as to insure the populace continues to think psychic
powers only nonsense or hearsay. For a lucky few, the
manifestation of Force abilities is just classified as a mental
aberration to be excised from their genetic code. For them
torture is avoided in favor of a simple death." His breath
hitched. "Infanticide is also quite popular, especially in some
of the less populated regions," voice broke. "It is so much
cheaper than treatment, after all."
"And we are going to accept these people into the Republic?"
Jame's voice was thick with horror.
"Not only accept with open arms, but they are so worthy an
addition that the Chancellor is coming to bless the ceremony,
dearest Jame."
"Padawan --" Mace began.
"Valorum couldn't have known," Jame protested over Mace's
warning. "Why didn't anyone tell him? You implied the Jedi have
known about this, why didn't you tell him? Stop him?"
Obi-Wan's grin was painful to see, his words painful to hear.
Or to stop.
Mace couldn't censure truth --
"Because the senators who sponsored admission care more about
making money off of trade routes than they do a few deaths. And
because out Cou because Jedi must remain ... apolitical."
Another challenge, this one even more direct.
Mace probably should have spoken then. Some truths needed
remain silent for fear of the big picture being overlooked. Nor
should a Padawan 's challenge remain unremarked, especially by
a member of the Council, at least to remind the younger one of
that bigger picture. In this instance the laws of the Galactic
Senate were very clear. Genocide might be deplorable, yet it
was perfectly acceptable within the fundamental rules of the
Republic as long as the practice remained an internal
problem. Too many racial and cultural boundaries had existed in
the early days, to many peoples and planets were dying,
destroyed. And no one set of rules could be established to
govern so many different species, religions, civilizations. To
control warfare on a galactic scale, death on a planetary scale
had to be overlooked.
For the greater good.
The founding precepts of the Jedi had to acknowledge this,
accept such conditions if they were to be able to take their
place as the defenders of the greater good. Jedi could defend,
protect, grant sanctuary, but Jedi could not wage war. Only
mediate to end them.
And only when sent or asked.
Jame's expression moved from horror to betrayal to horror
again. "So this goes on and you can do nothing."
Mace nodded sadly. " It was our hope that once T'ias became a
member of the Republic the unfortunates would see that they
have rights we could defend. We have had no opportunity to
address this issue before now, in part because until this
event, aliens were not allowed outside the spaceport perimeters
on T'ias. Even a Jedi can't get close enough to offer
assistance to someone who is scared of them, who refuses to be
saved. The alien taboos have meant we can't even ... steal any
of the children away as we sometimes must on other outer rim
planets, for to them we are demons and threaten their place
with their gods. There is nothing harder to fight than
ignorance and faith."
"And now?" Jame whispered. "After it gets out that they tried
to assassinate the Chancellor, the inclusion won't go through."
"And now the Senate ties our hands and so we let them die to
prevent them from burning in the Hell of their own making."
T'ias was just one in a growing number of untenable situations.
More and more the Jedi were being ordered to overlook tragedies
even within the planets that comprised the Republic and its
governing rules. As always, too much growth and power
invariably led to decline and corruption within a people, a
world or a Republic. The more vast the numbers involved, the
more eagerly some seemed to embrace the decline. The Dark.
Valorum was a good man, but as factions now truly led the
Senate, there was little one man could do.
"So was the coup enacted to keep these ... depravations
hidden?" Jame asked finally.
"I don't think so." Obi-Wan had softened his tone.
"Because the need for racial purity is based on their spiritual
beliefs, theoretically those they kill understand the necessity
of such actions or their families do. And since the populace
does not see any value in mutations, including midi-chlorian
variances, they don't understand or don't care that non
Tiasians might object. It's their world, their people, their
concern. I would guess they killed their leaders because the
insurrectionists felt it was their right and duty. Having
perceived that the government's thinking had become aberrant
and just as dangerous to their purity as any physical oddity,
they had no choice. "
"By the Allgod, these people are barbarians!" Jame exclaimed.
"The Republic is better off "
"Allgod?" Obi-Wan repeated in a harsh whisper. "No such
creature exists to the Tiasians. And, in truth, aren't also the
Hutts, with their slavery, just as barbaric, just as wrong,
Jame?. They at least have active trading with the Republic,
even if some dispute the validity of the claims that they are
members, so there is no excuse for the Senate for anyone to
refuse to enforce the laws or enact sanctions against such a
practice. But we don't. We just blithely let "
"That is enough, Obi-Wan." Mace didn't raise his voice, didn't
even put the snap in it that would have been obeyed
automatically. Yet this was the second time this journey he had
addressed the other by proper name instead of rank and, like
before, he achieved the same results.
"I am sorry Master Windu, Jame," Obi-Wan apologize immediately.
"I have allowed ..." and he paused, likely unwilling to offer
excuses for his questionable behavior even if circumstances
might have warranted them. Jedi were taught that reasons didn't
matter, only the consequences of the results, especially if
those results led to harming another, but that was a tenet even
most Knights had trouble grasping.
"I did not mean to cause you discomfort or pain, and hope you
will forgive my disrespect to your feelings."
Another might have spoken the words, but Mace knew few who
actually would have meant them. Obi-Wan was truly becoming an
exceptional Jedi. And was not more than a couple of years from
achieving knighthood, Mace judged.
Assuming a few of his less well-controlled impulses didn't get
him killed first.
Assuming they got Qui-Gon back to help him come to terms with
those impulses.
Jame kissed his forehead in benediction. "Of course, love."
"Master Windu?" Asking not so much for forgiveness as showing a
willingness to accept punishment.
Mace simply nodded. "Would you mind escorting Jame to her
quarters, Padawan?" he asked mildly. "I would be happier
knowing both of you were trying to rest. And if you will ask
N'sek to join me here once you get yourself back to medical, I
would be grateful."
It would be more likely Jame who saw to Obi-Wan than the other
way around, but Mace also knew Obi-Wan innate courtesy would
have him responding in agreement to such a request without it
having to be an order, whether suggested by a Master or not.
Certain manners seemed to have been bred into the boy long
before he ever received the Jedi training to enforce it, one of
which was seeing to a lady's comfort before his own. Which
occasionally drove Jame crazy in those instances where she
chose to take it as a slight to her own abilities.
Indeed, Jame looked as if she might be wanting to protest this
instance. But Mace saw her register as easily as he did the
exhaustion Obi-Wan could no longer hide. Which again pushed the
buttons of her own maternal, sisterly or other possessive
instincts. Mace didn't particularly care which instinct got the
two out of there, just that they both would go and rest. For
all that the Tiasians didn't understand what Jedi could do, the
doing of it tomorrow would be strenuous.
"As you wish, Master Windu," Obi-Wan responded. They could see
the visible effort he made to rise, but also the focus in his
eyes as he turned to assist Jame.
And it was probably better to give the young Jedi a task at the
moment anyway.
"Night, then, Mace." Jame made sure they walked by close enough
for her to bend over and give Mace a quick kiss on the cheek,
then laughed softly at the Master's flushed cheeks. "Don't stay
up too late, yourself," she teased.
Maintaining his dignity under the crinkle of amusement he read
in Obi-Wan's eyes wasn't quite as difficult once Mace realized
it was amusement. How long had it been for any of them
to find something to be amused about?
He inclined his head. "Goodnight Jame, Padawan."
Obi-Wan's formal goodnight got Mace to thinking once again
about the Padawan's relationship with Qui-Gon. There had been
several instances in the hours passed where being called simply
Master would have been perfectly acceptable, perfectly natural
instead of the more formal reference of Master Windu. Actually,
the formality had existed for a few months although Mace
distinctly remembered a time Obi-Wan had not been quite so
proper, in part because of Mace's and Qui-Gon's friendly
relationship during the younger days of the apprenticeship.
Nor was Mace alone in being singled out with such formality.
Obi-Wan had been a promising student even before becoming
Qui-Gon's Padawan, so there were many Teachers and Masters who
held Obi-Wan's friendship as well as respect. But now, even
they were being greeted formally. In fact, there was only one
Master with whom Mace could recall Obi-Wan relaxing around.
Well, only one except, maybe, Master Yoda.
Mace wondered if either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan had noticed this
obvious moment of change themselves?
Oh, Force! It wasn't psychic shock well not only psychic shock
that Obi-Wan was trying to deal with. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had
begun a new bond, obviously unconsciously. One deeper than
their training bond, deeper even than that which often would
develop between Jedi life partners or lovers. A bond of Fusion.
And until the demands of that bond could be met, completed,
neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan would be able without pain to feel
the Force being used by anyone other than the one who completed
their soul.
Fusion was never the expected outcome of a partnership, no
matter how close the Jedi became, no matter how much two Jedi
came to care for each other; the divergence between genetics
within even two of the same species often outweighed the
compatibility required. Love was certainly never enough -- well
it was for many things, of course, but for Fusion there had to
be physical, emotional, genetic and, the Force only knew, maybe
hundreds of other things that had to match between the
partners. Hence its very existence was almost feared, yet
celebrated as a near religious event.
Mace knew of maybe fifty such bonds that had been forged within
the ranks of Jedi during the last Millennia, and he had learned
of most of them only after he had joined the Council. Fusion
was never even mentioned as a possibility to Padawan
apprentices or Knights during their training, so that
unrealistic expectations of achieving it wouldn't arise or get
in the way of them former real relationships. So that
uncontrollable fears also did not arise. A binding of life
forces and souls could be intimidating, terrifying, wonderful
and dangerous.
One of the dangers of Fusion was the extraordinary strength of
will needed to simply survive the bond if it became severed,
while even more strength was needed to actually find the will
to return to some semblance of a normal life. It seemed the
Force rarely brought together two in Fusion unless those Jedi
were advanced enough in their maturity and study so that
provisions could be made by the Council to prevent long
separations common within active field duty, or to prevent or
discourage other bonds of any form like that needed in training
a Padawan. Out of the ten or so Fusion bonds that had been
severed mostly by death in the time Mace had been Jedi, he knew
of only three Jedi who had survived their soul partner's death
by more than a week. And only one had been able to stay active
within the Jedi, in the capacity of a caregiver to the youngest
children.
If this was happening had happened between a Padawan and Master
...
Chapter Four
It didn't take the Force for Qui-Gon to realize that of all
those on the tarmac, only he felt reasonably calm about the
sight of the ship landing in front of him. Undoubtedly three of
the five soldiers enclosing him within a half circle amidst
their ranks exhibited nervousness because they thought him a
murderer, and feared those now landing would argue or attack,
and endanger them.
Of the other two warding Qui-Gon directly, one had been
involved with the cabal and he had the orders to shoot the Jedi
once given the proper signal. The fifth's actions would
constitute that signal, when she took the shot to kill the
Chancellor.
Qui-Gon also knew more than one assassin waited somewhere
beyond his immediate guards. The newly proclaimed leaders
intended not to let anyone from the Republic escape alive to be
able to dispute the records they would then forward. Qui-Gon
had managed to pinpoint the general vicinity of the second
shooter somewhere to his rear and left within the cluster of
the false dignitaries, and could get from at least one witness
that there was another. The absence of the knowledge of where
the third assassin hid would have unsettled Qui-Gon's thoughts
had he allowed himself to dwell on it.
Too far away to be sensed through emotions, or actually without
an emotional response to the task, either state presented the
Jedi Master with a dilemma, though not one he could solve at
this stage. So he chose not to allow his thoughts to dwell on
something he could not as yet affect.
During his unencumbered opportunity for intelligence gathering,
Qui-Gon had also discovered that security droids had been
programmed to participate in the slaughter, but a last minute
review of the agreed arrangements by the mysterious Sri Molint
had pointed out that the presence of droids would be a serious
violation of protocol and would, indeed, prevent the Chancellor
from departing from his ship. Which didn't mean that the droids
weren't standing by as hidden backup. Qui-Gon could only remain
aware of them as a possibility at this point, too.
So he waited and spent some more time pondering the identity of
Sri Molint. Having worked with the Chancellor's people for many
years Qui-Gon knew the identities of every one on Valorum's
security detail in a position of authority. Even thinking over
Valorum's traveling administrative staff, Qui-Gon could place
no Sri Molint. When the Chancellor's personal assistant, Ser
Talia, was not present to satisfy herself with details of her
boss' occasional public appearance, that task would fall next
to either to the head of security or the ranking Jedi within
the travel party. Yet no Jedi by the name of Molint existed
either.
Nor did any Jedi have the features of the man he had seen.
Molint had to be Jedi, however, Qui-Gon had finally decided
just before falling asleep in the four remarkable hours his
jailers had left him alone. It seemed unlikely anyone on the
Chancellor's own staff would have taken the time and potential
risk to make mention of his Padawan's safety; not to mention
recognizing Jame's voice. And since the assurance was that
Obi-Wan was with Jame, but that Obi-Wan could have had to be
... well, dead, not to be somewhere on the ship landing, then
Jame was also there. And she would not have even been nearby
T'ias, unless she was journeying with Mace. Ergo, Morint was
Mace.
Which also meant that he, Obi-Wan and, most likely, Jame, would
be three of those descending the ramp that had just begun
lowering.
The small cambot that hovered to Qui-Gon's left side rose up
higher and began drifting forward. Although he had done so upon
its initial activation, Qui-Gon again quickly scanned the
surface thoughts of those to its farther left to see if any
expectations for mayhem involved this device. Pretty certain he
could knock if off target with either a Force push or by
tossing the metallic cuffs that supposedly surrounded his
wrists hidden within the long sleeves of his dark robe, the
Jedi still couldn't be certain he could destroy it. And a
deflection could still hit somebody, if it housed a weapon.
The only purpose, however, of the camera's presence that
Qui-Gon could get, was for the live feed of him killing the
Chancellor. From the angle of it to him, and of the woman
tucked at his side because of her uncharacteristic height (only
a little taller than Obi-Wan), who would actually be firing the
shot, it would probably look quite convincing.
A fairly passable rendition of the Republic theme began playing
from the band behind and to the right, for all that several
different forms of musical instruments were being used. The
party of dignitaries stepped forward, with one taking a most
forward position when the first boots became evident upon the
now fully distended ramp. The herald didn't announce the first
two, however. Honor Guards remaining anonymous at official
functions was pretty universal, even if they were Senate
Guards.
Qui-Gon recognized one of them anyway under the heavy deep blue
robes and open-face helmet with crest; a female Jedi Knight,
though he couldn't recall her name from his memory. A breath he
didn't realize he had been holding escaped silently through his
lips.
Jedi did not serve as Senate Guards. Ever.
It was obvious by the style and fabric of the clothing worn by
the next two descending that they were much more than soldiers
or assistants. Announced as Senators from Miraw and Lusia,
Qui-Gon had to admit Mace Windu and Jamevlyn D'Kalette offered
a convincing appearance, at least to his eye.
As glad as he felt to see Mace's steadying presence, Qui-Gon
had refrained from any action or emotion except the tiniest
further relaxation while he waited, so that his watchers would
not suspect something amiss. The sight of the next set of
guards challenged that composure, however, causing him to
almost ignore the introduction and appearance of the man tucked
between the two. One of the guard stood much shorter than the
others and moved in a deceptively familiar way despite an
unnatural stiffness.
Without conscious thought Qui-Gon's mind reached out with a
wealth of emotion that surprised and humbled him in its
intensity.
Obi-Wan answered with a tumult of impressions enwrapped within
a depth of feeling that threatened to swamp Qui-Gon's own
psyche. Yet thoughts flowed effortlessly between them and
filled in the holes and broken connections that Qui-Gon had
resolutely been ignoring before this moment. In less than the
time it took him to blink not quite dry eyes, Qui-Gon felt all
of Obi-Wan's fierce concern, regret and relief, the
all-consuming agony that surrounded his Padawan from all of its
causes, and the strategies the others had prepared. He didn't
need Mace's additional words of warning, but he also warmly
welcomed the other's presence in his mind although, admittedly,
not with the same fervor he had Obi-Wan.
Teamwork. The hallmark of a Jedi, whether between Master and
Padawan, two Knights, or with any other. Common foundations and
philosophies mattered as much as did coordination through the
Force. It didn't matter would not have mattered had the order
to hold come from Obi-Wan, the disguised Knight or, as in this
case, Mace Windu. The others had conceived of a plan that
demanded Qui-Gon's cooperation, not his independence.
So Qui-Gon took no action before the assassin fired that first
shot from practically under his elbow. He had time to
appreciate the speed in which the Guard opposite Obi-Wan threw
himself in front of the illusioned Chancellor for all that the
guard was not Jedi, and to see the man take the shot high up in
his chest and collapse convincingly. Although Qui-Gon had been
forewarned and knew the guard had worn an even heavier
deflecting pad underneath the robes already woven in protective
armoring as part of the uniform, for in instant he feared the
collapse too convincing.
But Qui-Gon had no time to reach out with the Force to check.
There were still the other assassins to be found, and the need
to deal with those he knew disposed to see him dead. He did
note the illusion being dropped as the other non Jedi guard
hustled past Jame, Mace and Obi-Wan to reach the false
Chancellor and get him back into the ship, then too many bodies
filled the tarmac with chaos.
Pure panic. Still, several soldiers had kept presence of mind
to focus on their tasks. More than one gun fired, yet the
welcome harmonies of three light sabers activating muted the
sounds of blasters. Unfortunately, not all of the blasters
pointed toward the ship.
The escort whose willing duty included Qui-Gon's death had
raised his weapon the instant the assassin fired the first
barrage. The Jedi Master had no doubt he could avoid the
initial shot coming from behind him, yet to disable the other
would mean moving further away from the ship. Immediately with
that thought, however, came another, one more of desire than
thought, leaving Qui-Gon with no interest in safety.
Not yet.
Not that he desired revenge. Beyond being a notion so contrary
to Jedi philosophy that entire classes were devoted to debasing
oneself of that emotion, Qui-Gon truly felt no need to
reciprocate with a measure of the pain he had been delivered.
He wanted only to see justice done in the memories of those
innocents who had been killed to satisfy another's philosophy,
and to insure further abuses of power did not happen, would not
destroy a world's attempt to grow.
He also realized, though, that he might have felt somewhat
different had the beatings been delivered to another in his
stead. Indeed, Qui-Gon could sense a thread of such desire to
exact more than justice from Obi-Wan's subconscious, though the
conscious thought of it was held nearly as far away from
Obi-Wan's mind as from Qui-Gon's. Such a desire coming from
Obi-Wan would have bothered Qui-Gon had it been conscious, and
he might have addressed even its subconscious presence had the
Jedi Master not been so shocked in his newfound ability to even
sense it. Something significant had changed between he and
Obi-Wan during the two days they had practically lived as one
in the Force.
Or something had changed in the day they had been apart.
Qui-Gon thought he had an idea of what, but didn't know if his
doubts stemmed from the uncomfortableness of the idea, or the
sheer surprise that it had happened without their awareness.
The sheer surprise that it could have happened at all.
Fusion should have been beyond Obi-Wan's abilities and
experience. It was definitely beyond Qui-Gon's expectations.
This is not something to be questioning amidst a fight for
your life!
Whether it his thought or Obi-Wan's didn't matter, in that it
was right.
Then, the not knowing which of them had thought it
*Qui-Gon!*
As lapses go, it was much less dangerous here than it should
have been, than it would have been against anyone who
understood even a fraction of what Jedi could do. Even as
Qui-Gon compelled his mind from dwelling on the questions, even
as the blaster's trigger was being squeezed, he leapt. Instead
of trying to evade or dodge, his steps took him toward the
nearest gunman. A pivot, three more steps and Qui-Gon stood
well within the radius of the other's reach. He slipped one
hand under the gun and up, palming the soldier's chest with his
other at the same time. The shot fired harmlessly overhead as
the man fell backward, unable to draw breath both from the blow
to his solar plexus and from the shock that overwhelmed him
from Qui-Gon's speed and skill.
Such abilities caught the other three soldiers flat-footed as
well, and the assassin. Her dilemma being the need to change
targets now that her actions had clearly been exposed to the
camera still recording the conflict, also slowed her thoughts.
Qui-Gon disabled another of the soldiers before any of the four
reacted, and sent the other two men tumbling into each other
before they collapsed on the ground.
Which left only the assassin.
Plus the rest of the armed escort amidst the dignitaries, along
with twenty or so honor troops.
Despite what he let Obi-Wan believe, Qui-Gon was well aware of
his abilities and that many thought him one of the best
warriors the Jedi had ever trained. But Qui-Gon was hard
pressed to live up to that reputation with no weapon in hand
other than cuffs, his wits, and the Force to defend against
thirty different opponents should they chose to target him.
Fortunately, not the full thirty. Ten was enough that Qui-Gon
felt a moment of regret anyway. Then his regret quickly changed
into fear to see Obi-Wan flipped over the heads of those who
now rushed toward the ship to take up a position between
Qui-Gon and those who had chosen to target his Master. Instead
of moving into a defensive posture, however, Obi-Wan twisted
his body Qui-Gon's direction and tossed the lightsaber he had
been holding aloft, the bright green energy blade fading as it
fell from his fingers. Obi-Wan had neither the time nor the
strength to toss the metal tube all the way to Qui-Gon, not
without using Force energy to assist, which he did not have to
spare either.
But Qui-Gon did. And the last bit of wholeness slid into place
when he called the elegant weapon to hand and reenergized it.
He didn't have to see Obi-Wan draw forth his own blade to be
able to appreciate his Padawan's skill in deflecting those
first few shots. Since none of the initial salvo made it past
Obi-Wan to reach Qui-Gon, the Jedi Master had opportunity first
to disable the assassin as he had her fellow soldiers. And by
the time the second salvo fired, Qui-Gon's Force enhanced run
had brought him to Obi-Wan's side. Now the two moved forward in
tandem, mindful of turning back each shot only to the point of
disabling when possible, instead of killing.
One watching would see little similarity to their fighting
styles; Obi-Wan moved in speedy, energetic leaps and rolls that
in another might signify arrogance or conceit, whereas Qui-Gon
moved in quiet economy and strength. But together the styles
complemented instead of contradicted, and nothing passed beyond
their defense to endanger selves or those few innocent
civilians still caught up in the panic and madness.
And from their hand, no one died.
More minutes passed. Asherae joined in Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's
ballet of deadly beauty, leaving Mace and Jame to dissuade
anyone from trying to board the ship. Jame dispatched the third
assassin, finally spotting him upon a rooftop across the tarmac
when his entry into the fray nearly opened up a vacancy in the
Jedi Council. But Mace managed to dive under the more
antiquated high velocity projectile which flattened instead
against the ramp with a shrill ping. The sniper got no
opportunity for a second shot.
That seemed to signal the end, or perhaps it was the arrival of
three ground transports filled with police instead of soldiers.
Several of the military had already thrown down their weapons,
fleeing from the trio of Jedi. To a man the rest followed suit
when it became obvious the new arrivals directed their shots
not toward the aliens, but at their fellow Tiasians.
At Qui-Gon's signal, Asherae and Obi-Wan deactivated their
sabers, but did not go so far as to clip their weapons back on
their belts. Not until Mace's arrival. And example. Obi-Wan had
shown reluctance to power down since it mean removing the
threat of his blade from the man who had claimed to be Minister
Foltune, but his hesitation had been obvious only to Qui-Gon.
As was the fine trembling that now overtook Obi-Wan's body.
Without drawing particular attention, Qui-Gon took a step
closer to his Padawan and touched the small of the other's
back; offering a steadying presence along with a measure of
energy through the Force. He also used this opportunity to
check and assure himself his Padawan had taken no additional
damage from this passing confrontation.
Obi-Wan still had plenty of injury from before, Qui-Gon was
loathed to find out.
Although Obi-Wan wore no form of sling, he still had no use of
his left arm. Other hurts, less serious but still too many, had
Qui-Gon dearly wishing he and Obi-Wan could quit this field of
battle, even while stubborn pride and a sense of duty kept both
of them from voicing anything out loud to Mace.
Or internally to each other.
A civilian that Qui-Gon quickly recognized as the wife of the
former Tiasian president now walked out from amongst the cadre
of police. She directed four of her escort to take stances next
to the false Minister of Protocol and by one of the highly
decorated military officers nearby, yet she glanced at no one
but the party of four heavily breathing Jedi and one, only
slightly less exhausted Force sensitive.
"Madame Tsi, please accept our condolences on the grievous loss
you and your world have suffered with the death of your
husband." Qui-Gon couldn't really bow anything other than his
head as more and more of Obi-Wan's weight seemed to rest
against his hand, and his own body now began taking opportunity
to make strains and overexertion known in addition to those
previous hurts he had not yet an opportunity to recover from.
"You are most kind to say so, Ambassador Jinn, especially in
light of how grievously our world has treated you and yours."
Although Qui-Gon could read what she'd recently had to go
through in the lines and shadows of her face, her smile was
genuine.
"Is your Chancellor injured?"
"Chancellor Valorum found it necessary to return to Coruscant."
Mace stepped up to Qui-Gon's left side.
She looked to Qui-Gon. "Madame Tsi, I present to you Mace
Windu, Jedi Master and esteemed member of the Jedi Council.
Although not a member of Supreme Chancellor Valorum's staff, he
does occasionally have the Chancellor's ear, and is the ranking
Republic diplomat present. Master Windu, please know Macala
Tsi, cherished wife of the late Tiasian president."
Her smile saddened at Qui-Gon's words, but she also held the
look of a woman who had known quite well how much she had been
loved, and knew only the regret of seeing that bond between
them cut short. "I find myself also in the temporary position
of our people's president," she offered almost apologetically.
"Appointed by our remaining body of ministers until such time
as we can organize and guarantee free elections."
"How can the Republic serve you, Madame President?"
Qui-Gon quickly noted Mace had not offered congratulations and
couldn't quite hide the fact in his mind of his surprise at the
other's tact. It had been several years since Mace had found
himself actively participating in the diplomatic arena. Mace's
mindtouch included dry outrage though no evidence showed in his
expression, and a small sense of wry acceptance of Qui-Gon's
right to be surprised. Mild amusement could also be sensed from
both Asherae and Obi-Wan, which served as a reminder to all of
the Jedi to restore their shielding from each other now that
the immediate need and threat for such a level of rapport
between them had subsided at the battle's end.
As Qui-Gon expected, neither he nor Obi-Wan could shield as
effectively from each other as they quickly managed to do from
Mace and Asherae.
"I think all that is required from the Republic right now,
Master Windu, is time. And, perhaps, a second chance in our
future."
Mace nodded. "While joining the Republic would be beneficial to
both, it is understandable that your priorities must need
change in the short term. I will inform the Chancellor of your
willingness to resume negotiations once internal considerations
have been concluded."
"You are most gracious, Master Windu." She let her gaze turn
finally toward the men who waiting in seething, silent
captivity. "I find I have need of one more boon, Master Windu,"
she finally said. "Of your Ambassador Jinn."
Mace nodded again and took a half a step back, conceding his
place back to Qui-Gon.
"Ambassador, as the one most harmed both bodily and in
reputation by these two," she gestured toward the conspirators,
"it is your right to claim wergild as the wronged party."
The concept of wergild was as common beyond the outer rim as
the deaths that usually led to such a claim being invoked. But
Jedi did not set a price on life.
"Madame President, I fear to disagree with such as yourself,
yet it is you and yours who have been the most harmed by their
actions. Nor, as Jedi, will I claim bounty or vengeance.
Punishment for wrong doing is best upheld by those whose
actions in enforcement can rehabilitate, or by which such
punishment provide meaning or substance. I must defer any claim
of wergild back to those in charge of the prisoners, either
Tiasian military tribunal, or yourself."
The tight relief and satisfaction Qui-Gon could read in her
eyes didn't make him particularly comfortable, but he knew he
had answered correctly, both for her, and for himself and
Obi-Wan. He had no doubt death would be the punishment exacted,
yet felt no guilt by consigning them to such. The two
insurrectionists knew, better than he, the consequences to
their actions under their own laws. They, not he or Obi-Wan,
were responsible for taking those actions. As victim or unlucky
bystander, it was neither his place nor inclination to argue
for any particular outcome save that which might impact the
Republic directly.
Qui-Gon felt glad to sense no contradiction from Obi-Wan, then
felt concern as he recognized he actually couldn't sense much
beyond his Padawan's intense focus of will to remain standing
so as not to embarrass his Master.
"Madame President, Master Windu, might I suggest that any
further discussions about this day or the future take place
after we have all had a better chance to assess what has
happened?" he asked quickly.
She looked concerned, Mace almost a little chagrined.
*Qui-Gon?* came instantly from Mace.
*Just tired, Mace. My Padawan, howev --*
*I'm fine!*
*You weren't even fine before this day began!* Mace growled
before even Qui-Gon could protest the interruption. *Your
Master is right, Padawan, I have been remiss to keep any but
myself standing here.*
Mace's emotions bled true regret over his perceived lapse, and
just the barest acknowledgment and consternation that Obi-Wan
was able to break into a link between the two Jedi Masters.
"Of course, Ambassador, Master Jedi," the Tiasian said
smoothly. "Do you require the assistance of any of our medical
personnel? Or accommodations for your crew or staff?"
"Thank you, but no. Our ship and personnel are quite adequate
to our needs," Mace responded.
"Yes, I dare say so," she said with a quirk of her lips after
giving a careful look around at the number of writhing or
unmoving bodies of her people, then looking again at the few
burns and tears in clothing as the only visible evidence the
Republic representatives had even been involved in the
conflict. "I think what when we do meet again, certain aspects
in the differences between our people will need to be studied
again."
She then turned and began back toward the vehicle she had
arrived in, with only the briefest of signals to have those who
had instigated the coup and killed her husband brought along.
"A remarkable woman," Mace offered once certain she and her
bodyguards moved beyond range of hearing. After seeing them all
safely ensconced within their vehicles, thereby greatly
lessening the potential for further Jedi assistance, Mace
finally signaled their own departure. Qui-Gon let the other two
Jedi and Jame lead him and Obi-Wan away, all still aware of
potential danger as they threaded their way through the ranks
of disarmed soldiers and the civilian police. For all of the
new president's courtesies and the evidence of crimes
perpetrated against the Republic, more people present wanted
them gone than could be accounted for by the number who had
raised weapons against them.
The return to the ship's ramp occurred without further
incident, however, for which Qui-Gon could sense he was not the
only one grateful. Another Jedi awaited them, one who again
Qui-Gon could not name but recognized as a Healer who traveled
frequently with Chancellor Valorum. When the Healer would have
moved to take Qui-Gon's place at Obi-Wan's side, the Master
fiercely shook his head and had to suppress a growl even though
both he and his Padawan wavered unsteadily in exhaustion. He
also ignored both the Healer's and Mace's frown, acknowledging
only Obi-Wan's determination to make it up the ramp unassisted.
"How is Sukal?" he heard Mace ask the Healer as those two now
took position behind Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, who in turn, followed
Asherae and Jame upward.
"Recovering nicely. The Tiasian energy weapons operate somewhat
differently than our own, producing a more solid effect than to
be expected, which has left additional bruising and tenderness
but no significantly greater damage."
"Damage which a good hot soak would relieve in no time," Jame's
voice came floating back down. "Why in the world did you turn
down an offer for better accommodations, Mace? Surely even
you'd prefer something a little more comfortable than a
spacer's rack?"
"I find the Chancellor's suite more than comfortable."
"The Chancellor's " Jame rounded on Mace, having no trouble
keeping her footing as she continued up the ramp backward. "Why
you crafty, son of a "
"Watch your head," Mace admonished before she could clip
herself on one of the landing struts.
She ducked and resumed a more proper alignment for walking
safely, but not before anyone could see the massive pout she
had let settle on her features.
"I did not think it prudent to present ourselves within
surroundings that offered weaker defenses," Mace explained with
a patience Qui-Gon didn't really remember him ever previously
exhibiting before hooking up with Jame. "Don't forget that even
if the populace may now know Jedi are not murderers, we are
still outsiders, aliens, and are not wanted here."
Qui-Gon could tell Jame resented having to give up a good sulk
for irrefutable logic, but had no doubt the pilot's better
nature would win out. At another time or place the near
euphoria that simple survival brought might have encouraged him
to be willing to support Jame, at least to tease Mace's caution
himself for a few moments before acquiescing to the better
judgment, But he was much more preoccupied with the crushing
weight of fatigue he was finding hard to stave off; any bed
would be welcome, even the cold floor of the spacecraft.
And if he wasn't so concerned that the fatigue he felt might
not be wholly his own.
To his surprise, Asherae stepped in, not so much to support
Jame against Mace, (since few Knights would publicly criticize
one of the Councilor's decrees even in sport), but in offering
a suggestion that supported both sides. "I bet we can jury rig
something up using the galley's supply of fresh water,
Jamevlyn. Surely the new president wouldn't begrudge
replenishing some stores before our departure?" Though offered
to Jame, Asherae looked to Mace for approval.
"Would there be enough?" Mace asked.
"For a least a couple of us," Jame nodded, a speculative and
eager grin coming to her lips. Abruptly, though, her face took
on a much more somber cast. "Of course, it should be offered to
those who need it."
Qui-Gon moved to brush away her obvious concern, and stumbled
as he crossed the threshold from ramp to ship. Instantly
Obi-Wan turned to help, but twisted the wrong direction in
light of his own injuries, swayed and began to crumple. Before
Qui-Gon could steady himself, much less his Padawan, the Healer
had caught Obi-Wan up and Qui-Gon found himself supported by
Mace, who signaled for the women to go on ahead.
"Let him do his job, Qui-Gon." Mace's tone was as adamant as
his grip as Qui-Gon moved to pull away.
"But "
"You're in no shape to be seeing to anyone's needs but your
own, my friend. Let us help you both."
Qui-Gon finally nodded.
Almost before he realized it, Qui-Gon found himself in one of
the ship cabins undoubtedly last used by a real senator with
Mace directing him toward the bed. "Obi-Wan " he began with one
last protest.
"Doesn't need to be worrying about you any more than you him
right now, Qui-Gon. Sit."
The voice might have worked on a Padawan, undoubtedly even on
many another Master, but Qui-Gon had too long been defying the
Council even before Mace's elevation to the body, when heart
and Force spoke to him differently. Not to mention that someone
who had been as close, closer actually than a brother as Mace
had could ever properly intimidate him. But a not so subtle
manipulation of the Force, his body's own weakness and the
clear evidence of Mace's concern combined to do what
intimidation or discipline could not.
Qui-Gon relaxed enough to remain sitting on the bed, and even
made no protest other than a hiss of pain when Mace began
removing cloak then his tunics.
"Damn!" came Mace's soft exclamation as he took in the
crisscross of welts and deep bruising across Qui-Gon's chest
and back. More caught his eye then, and he gently grabbed up
Qui-Gon's closest hand and turned it carefully to examine the
wide band of broken and bloody skin that had been hidden under
long sleeves.
"I have to ask, how much of this was done after our
communication last night?" Only whisper and guilt.
"Why does it matter, Mace?" Obi-Wan had expressed the same
concerns across their bond and now Qui-Gon wasn't sure if he
temporized to punish or absolve his friend's decision. Was the
anger his own, or still Obi-Wan's? Qui-Gon certainly understood
the reasoning behind Mace's delay was even thankful for it for
Obi-Wan's sake. But ...
Mace began to rub the hand tenderly, sending tendrils of
healing to the most easily dealt with hurts first, along with
the comfort of his touch. "Because I fear I obtained your
Padawan's cooperation only by the telling of a lie. Because I
fear if he no longer trusts me --"
"A Padawan even Obi-Wan should not have withheld his
cooperation "
Mace tightened his hold for a second, silencing Qui-Gon.
"Because I fear if your Padawan has reason to no longer trust
me, you will no longer be able to trust me, my friend."
Oh.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, ignoring the little aches and pains
as he asked more of his body than it wanted to give. "So you
know?"
Mace nodded. He used his grasp on Qui-Gon's hand to convince
him to spread out on his stomach across the bed. Massage
techniques could deal with much of Qui-Gon's pain as easily as
Force applied healing, and he realized Mace was prepared to
offer both.
"Not at first, of course," Mace continued, "since he didn't
know himself "
"Does not know," Qui-Gon corrected, eyes closing as Mace
began working on the stiff and battered muscles. "Even now he
thinks it still just a temporary connection that came about due
to the needs of survival to complete the mission. He doesn't
know whether to expect me to dissolve the link, or whether it
will fade on its own. And he's afraid to ask even within his
own mind whether it has to be dissolved."
"He's afraid he is right, and doesn't wish to be?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "I think so," he whispered. "I hope so. The
intimacy of the bond is exhilarating, Mace."
"So he hasn't realized that it is also what's been behind so
much of the agony he's been feeling since leaving you on the
planet?"
"Right now he is full of the wonder in what it allowed us to
do, with how effective it has enabled us to become in our
partnership, especially in combat."
Mace's snort caused Qui-Gon to rollover.
"Mace?"
"Have you bothered to listen to how Obi-Wan interacts with
others over the last, oh, six or eight months, Qui-Gon?
Specifically at how he deals with other Jedi? How he answers
another Master? Or you?"
Qui-Gon realized Mace didn't mean listen in the casual sense
allowed through the Force, through the Master/Padawan bond. He
meant the active words, apart from the emotions.
Mace snorted again, obviously out of patience to await
Qui-Gon's ability to recall almost any conversation and play it
back in his mind. Still working with clinical detachment and
quiet efficiency, the Jedi Councilor continued his healing
ministrations to start erase the evidence of the abuses Qui-Gon
had endured. "Obi-Wan is as formal to other Jedi as he is to
any diplomat or head of state, or stranger," Mace supplied his
own answer.
"He has always displayed good manners," Qui-Gon protested,
confused.
At that statement, Mace actually laughed. "Yes, he is almost
always excruciatingly polite when arguing, much more skilled in
that, in fact, than you are, my friend. But he has also always
gotten away with more than most any other Padawan due to a
gilt, honey-tongue that usually defies formality. Now, though,
he has also become much more reserved around even those he
accounts as friends."
"I hadn't noticed. In my presence, I've seen no lessening of
his tendency to question, or tease. No evidence that his isn't
as open or friendly "
Mace's nod and knowing expression stopped him. "Exactly,
Qui-Gon. In your presence. Answer me this, how does he
address you, my friend? No, better yet, how did he refer to you
to another, say a Padawan, a year ago?"
"With outsiders, as Master Jinn and amongst Jedi or
acquaintances as Master Qui-Gon." Was he just too tired to see
what Mace alluding to?
"And now, Qui-Gon? Say a week ago? Maybe even six months ago?"
Six months ago they had just finished an extremely tasking
mission, again with both of them returning bloody and bowed.
Qui-Gon let several conversations play through his mind, not
just in Obi-Wan's statements and responses, but in his own.
My Master. My Padawan.
Oh.
"Obi-Wan doesn't fear the release of a bond that has proven
useful in defense, Qui-Gon," Mace chided softly. "Easier
training or combat isn't what he desires at all. Nor, as you
well know, is that what the two of you have formed. But what I
have to ask you as your friend, and as a member of the Council,
is whether or not you are prepared to be in a bond of Fusion to
your Padawan for the rest of both your lives."
There, the word had finally been spoken, confirming all Qui-Gon
had feared. Had hoped.
"Is there a choice?" he had to ask, horrified by the
desperation he heard in his own tone.
"There are always choices, Qui-Gon," Mace said somewhat
harshly, although his touch remained gentle and soothing. "The
bond stays incomplete until both of you consciously accept it,
which can cause difficulties but can be dealt with. That isn't
what I asked you, however. Pretend for me a moment that the
bond can be removed -- or joined again in the future if that's
what you wish with no consequences to anything. Is Fusion what
you want? Right now? With a Padawan? Even one as remarkable as
Obi-Wan?"
Of course Qui-Gon couldn't ignore the consequences. The
consequences existed already. Notwithstanding the difficulties
already present in either of them using the Force in
conjunction with some one else, the bond of Fusion would affect
their training relationship, their ability to partner with
other Jedi and, most certainly, affect Obi-Wan's relationship
with Jame or any other lover he had taken. Or would take.
Conversely, the disillusionment of the bond, even if it could
happen easily, pain and guilt free -- impossible though that
was -- would also affect all of those things.
And would affect his own feelings more than he had realized
before this moment.
"Eleven hours ago I thought Obi-Wan dead, Mace. In that
instant, I realized all of the pain I experienced with Zendus'
death, with Xanatos' betrayal meant nothing. I had no thoughts
to the mission, to my training, to even the Force. And I vowed
to kill those who had been responsible."
Mace met his eyes with a grave expression. "Suffering may be
the easiest path to the Dark Side to excuse, my friend, but ...
but if you felt its pull from fears through only a training
bond, you must know that what you would feel should Fusion be
severed under similar or worse conditions months or years from
now would be exponentially more? As we must know. Will you be
able to turn from the Dark Side then?"
Qui-Gon sat up so quickly that the room spun. He captured the
hand of his closest friend and commanded his silence, much as
Mace had done to him moments ago, while also using the grip to
steady himself. "This is not for the Council to decide, Mace,
nor to command. You can only support whatever Obi-Wan and I
choose." Although he hadn't said or meant the words harshly, it
bothered him to see the other's panic.
"Yes, I would follow Obi-Wan into Darkness, and if I could not
help him find the Light again, I'd live in his shadow. Yet," he
continued, trying to soothe that pain although he knew his
words would just as likely bring even more. "Yet eleven hours
ago I thought Obi-Wan dead and was ready to use the Dark Side
for vengeance before succumbing to my own death, because twelve
hours ago I realized that my life was already intertwined with
his forever even without acknowledging any other bond than
friendship. And it was my concern with hurting even his memory
which stopped me from seeking the Darkness on my own. I can do
this can feel this because I know Obi-Wan will never turn, even
should the actions be reversed. The Council can accept this
because I will not live beyond his death once we join."
"I see that you accept Fusion," Mace acknowledge hoarsely, "but
do you want this? It means never taking another Padawan. It
should mean removal from field duty. And --"
Qui-Gon barely needed to reach out to feel the well-spring of
concern and relief all wrapped within a breathtakingly,
unwavering love from his Padawan. The shields Obi-Wan had
managed to maintain during the rescue despite the reconnecting
of their bond had disappeared completely with his
unconsciousness. And now, although the Healer had put Obi-Wan
into a deep trance, Qui-Gon knew he could bring him out with
just the barest of thought, that his Padawan now trusted his
Master with every essence of his life. Such trust humbled even
more than the vulnerabilities Obi-Wan had brought out of
Qui-Gon. And the love soothed places Mace nor anyone else had
ever been able to reach.
"The future is always in motion, Mace. As I accept no
limitations on either his or my behalf, I will not allow the
Council to enact them." He felt a ridiculously giddy smile take
over his face. "I have been given a wonderful gift that I was
almost too foolish to accept, my friend. His soul is all light.
With him I will never need fear the Darkness again, but more, I
will always know love." He twisted until he sat next to Mace,
until he could place an arm around the other's shoulders. "Yes,
I want this Fusion. At this point in my life. And with my
Padawan. I have accepted this. The Force has also accepted it.
Can the Council truly do no less? Can my dearest friend do no
less?"
Mace managed a tight smile. A nod. And Qui-Gon knew the words
would come later.
Now all he had to worry about was whether Obi-Wan could accept
this for the ties and limitations would affect the younger man
so much more.
Several hours later, Obi-Wan decided he was more than tired of
waking up with a headache that had him seriously contemplating
suicide. He was also pretty damn tired of others insisting on
him doing things as if he couldn't take care of himself, like
sleep, despite the fact that the enforced trance had at last
allowed him to throw off the exhaustion that had dogged him for
three days.
*Does that include me, Obi-Wan?*
Obi-Wan aborted the movements that would have taken him from
the bed, falling back against the pillows. He was alone in the
room with familiar pain throbbing through his head, but almost
instantly it flowed away like dewdrops on a leaf, leaving with
it a sense of renewal and the hushed stillness of dawn before
the life-bringing sunrise.
*Qui-Gon?* he tried, tentative, but willing to risk more hurt
if he could reach his Master.
*You expected someone else?* came back the clear response.
Obi-Wan fell speechless, thought-less. He hadn't actually
expected to be able to do this again, ever.
*You do remember that you rescued me from T'ias, don't you, my
Padawan? That I am here and fine, that we're aboard the
Chancellor's yacht and will be heading home within another
day's passing?*
Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's concern, could even sense the
other gently nudging the shields he'd activated automatically
when the mind touch had first come, though he no longer needed
to protect against pain. His brain might be a little frazzled,
his thought processes a little slow, but yes, he remembered
returning to T'ias, in both his own memories and from
Qui-Gon's.
The ease in which he could sense Qui-Gon's thoughts astounded
him. Even more astounding, however, were reading the memories.
He had never achieved this level of intimacy with anyone
before. He had never actually known this level of rapport could
be reached, except the theory of it occurring in snatches of
individual moments. Certain histories hinted it might have
happened once or twice in the past during times of great
strivings or need. Yet only then by those much more adept in
the Force than a mere Padawan.
*There is nothing mere about my Padawan.*
He should have felt embarrassed to have his Master praise him
such. Or to have it so pointed out that this remarkable
connection of thoughts ran both ways. But all Obi-Wan could
feel was a sense of rightness that outweighed embarrassment or
even pride. To have one who already knew the best and worst he
could be in the eyes of another, suddenly know the same in the
eyes of himself was curiously liberating. Not that he could
imagine feeling this acceptance with anyone other than his
Master. Well, at least not until he fell in lo
Abruptly he snapped his shields back in place, this time
intact, impenetrable. Yet even then Obi-Wan recognized the
impenetrability to be mere illusion, that Qui-Gon chose to
respect such privacy but that nothing could keep the other out
save his Master's honor.
*Obi-Wan?* Again concern, only concern, flashed along their
link.
*Where are you, Master?*
*With Mace at the moment, finalizing the demands of our
appearance at the Tiasian state funeral. I can be with you in
just a few minutes.*
Obi-Wan felt a flutter of panic at how much he wished Qui-Gon
would do just that, then a subsequent reassuring wave of
comfort to hold him over until the wish could be granted.
Now the embarrassment came. Savage. Unrelenting. Crushing. He
was acting no better than a child. Worse, actually, for he
never remembered expressing/experiencing such an overpowering
need as a child. Not even his need to be accepted as a Padawan
so that he could become Jedi.
What in Sith Hell was wrong with him?
*Obi-Wan, it is nothing to concern yourself with, nothing to be
embarrassed about,* Qui-Gon sent along with more comfort. *But
you have managed to awaken about four hours earlier than you
should have. Know that save for the demands of duty I would
have been there.* Regret flavored a different sense of apology.
*I should have been there anyway, even if I didn't know you'd
exceed expectations, as you are always by my side when I'm
injured. Please forgive me. I am coming now.*
Obi-Wan wanted to resent how reassured the thought of Qui-Gon's
impending arrival made him feel. Although part of a pair for
all of his -- admittedly short -- adult life and many years
before that, he had always seen himself retaining his
independence from his Master's shadow and reputation. In part,
of course, because Qui-Gon had always encouraged him to derive
his own conclusions, and to support them even if that meant
challenging his mentor's actions. But that still made the self
determination real.
A part of Obi-Wan now even feared how reassured Qui-Gon's
return was making him feel. Until he could also realize how
stupid all of his current emotions felt. Obviously
something was still not quite normal within his mind; a
residual stress or injury. That Qui-Gon found nothing to be
alarmed about in Obi-Wan's feelings of embarrassment,
reassurance or fear, also meant his Master was confident this
uncommon flux of emotions would pass.
Rising again, much more slowly this time, Obi-Wan had to grin
when his body answered his demands with only little protest. He
could still feel tenderness across his midsection, but knew the
twinge to be more in muscle and memory since he could also
sense bone fused and healthy again. Next he removed his arm
from its sling, raised and flexed it, then twisted the wrist.
Still a definite reduction in mobility there; nothing outside
of an infusion of bacta could completely overcome the mess he
had made of it in such a short time, especially as he had
needed to keep using it and, consequently not only undoing any
healing that might have taken place, but injuring it even more
severely. But there was finally limited mobility, which he felt
confident would continue to increase. And, fortunately any of
the other aches and bruises he could still feel could be
ignored or overcome with a good stretch and workout.
Which left only a mental examination needed. The headache that
had eclipsed thought for over a day now merely tugged at his
temples in a pale, weak shadow of what it had been. The Force
also came easily to Obi-Wan again; any sluggishness he felt in
the rapport due to self-fulfilling prophecy since such memory
of agony was not easily forgotten and at least emotionally
still expected. The use of the Force by others had also been
bringing less and less distress to him ever since he had caught
sight of Qui-Gon on the Tiasian tarmac. Obviously N'sek had
used it to deal with his physical hurts after successfully
using it to put him to sleep this time. So all those
difficulties were healing, too.
Obi-Wan now understood that the two psychic effects had been
separate; something he hadn't the presence of mind to sense
when it had been happening. Such inability to understand might
have been cause for further alarm, but Obi-Wan now sensed there
was something else yet, something that had been previously
hidden by pain. The new pathways that had been burned between
him and Qui-Gon were not temporary. And they lay within
the portion of his mind normally kept behind shielding.
"Do you want those links removed, Obi-Wan? Need them removed?"
He opened up his eyes from his internal review of self and
scowled to observe Qui-Gon standing in the doorway of the
medical bay. "Explain to me first why the pathways seem
one-way. I didn't sense your arrival, yet you sensed my inner
thoughts." Obi-Wan consciously ignored the relief the sight of
Qui-Gon brought him. "My shielding may not be back to full
form, but they are there."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Well, wouldn't you expect a Master to have a
few more tricks? You have already figured out the link is
inside the shields."
"This is an enhancement of the training bond then? Something
Masters initiate as the apprentice advances?" Even as he said
it, Obi-Wan knew that wasn't right. But any anger or hurt for
something like that being kept from him or enacted to him
without consent disappeared under a sudden flush of awe. Some
part of his mind had started to get a clue.
Obi-Wan was still almost afraid to know the answer, however. To
even ask the question. So he asked another. "Is that why you
didn't exhibit any of the abuse problems I did from our Force
use during those first two days?" He couldn't quite keep a
shadow of how bad those problems had been from his voice, or
his hope that, indeed, Qui-Gon had been spared such.
"Mace told me about that, Obi-Wan. Psychic shock again. Would
that I had been there to help." Qui-Gon finally came on into
the room and took a seat on the bed, preventing Obi-Wan from
rising when he would have in a Padawan's respect to his Master.
"Me too, but it wasn't your fault."
"Actually, Obi-Wan, I think some of it was."
He hadn't expected that. Obi-Wan looked sideways to his Master,
his breath hitching to see Qui-Gon's expression. "Would you
care to explain?"
Qui-Gon took up the hand of Obi-Wan's ravaged arm and he could
feel his Master began his own study of how the healing had
gone, adding energies to aid, soothe. And not particularly
anything physical.
"You know that becoming a Master involves more than just
attaining a certain level of skills or successfully training a
Padawan?" He didn't look up from his fingers skimming lightly
over Obi-Wan's skin.
Obi-Wan nodded and tried to focus on Qui-Gon's words instead of
his actions, although his body had definite ideas to the
contrary. After radiating so much pain and numbness, the skin,
muscles and nerves of his arm were hyper-sensitive.
Jedi taught that anyone had the chance to become a Master, but,
of course, not everyone actually had the ability. Becoming a
Knight involved tests of an unknown and constantly changing
variety, yet was always a measure of skill, experience and
maturity. Becoming a Master, however, had a lot more to do with
acceptance from the Force than just a skill in using it. Just
as any parent could bring a child into the world but not all
could provide the proper nurturing not all Jedi could provide
the same type of nurturing while also tempering and guiding
what, in the wrong or misguided hands, could become a weapon to
destroy worlds.
Awesome power, awesome responsibility.
And not everyone felt up to successfully wielding either the
power or the responsibility. A number of Knights were happy to
never progress beyond that point of their training and skill
and found productive and successful careers regardless.
Or so the story was told. Just as the young supplicants not
accepted as Padawan apprentices found comfort in being
relegated into secondary choices of services like the
Agri-corps. It happened, you made the best of it, but no one
set out expecting wanting to fail to become the best Jedi they
could.
More energy flowed into his arm from Qui-Gon's ministrations
while a nameless warmth flowed through their link. Not sure if
Qui-Gon was reacting to the old, not quite scarred-over hurts
of Obi-Wan's past, or perhaps just the harrowing direction his
thoughts had turned, he willingly accepted the comfort
nonetheless.
And turned his thoughts back to why he didn't care what Qui-Gon
was offering comfort for. Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon's presence
deep within his mind in places long kept hidden, yet did not
feel a sense of intrusion or judgment from the other that he
should have expected. Their connection felt like no bond he'd
ever achieved before, like nothing else at all in his
experience or in even his studies, so he had no basis to even
draw conclusions about it.
Other than he could no longer remember what it felt like to not
be so open with Qui-Gon.
"There are certain ... talents that also seem necessary for a
Jedi to possess before they can become a Master," Qui-Gon was
continued although he had to feel Obi-Wan's flitting thoughts.
Suddenly startled, Obi-Wan realized the link did run both ways,
despite his earlier concerns of the disproportion of the
connection between the two of them. He was receiving
impressions of uneasiness and lack of confidence coming from
his Master that he had never felt before. That he doubted
Qui-Gon intended for him to sense.
Self doubts? Qui-Gon? That was the Padawan's vulnerability, not
the Master's. Not this Master's.
Disconcerting to say the least as Qui-Gon never let his doubts
surface along their link.
Nor was Obi-Wan sure how he felt about such a sharing, for
there were things he wasn't sure he wanted to know.
While knowing the other was just a man, yes, fallible and prone
to the occasional mistake or, more likely, misinterpretation of
circumstances and consequences, Qui-Gon was also the foundation
of Obi-Wan's world even more than the tenets of the Jedi Code.
The child in him could not help but fear this loss of
stability, while the adult within who had begun to crave a more
equal relationship, couldn't help but wonder that this just
might be the first indication that Qui-Gon might also be ready
to set aside some of the deeply ingrained boundaries between
Master and Padawan. And if one, might others begin to fall?
Or perhaps Obi-Wan was just imagining such feelings, had
magnified his own subconscious desires to greater prominence
while drawing dreadfully wrong conclusions. Something could
definitely still be wrong with him.
Instead of something being right.
"You are not imagining things, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice had
taken on a huskier tone than his usual deep voice, bring raised
hair and flesh to all of Obi-Wan's extremities that had started
with Qui-Gon's touch on his arm. "No wrong desires, no wrong
conclusions."
Obi-Wan tried to bring moisture to a suddenly very dry mouth.
"Why didn't your use of the Force want to send me screaming
into a corner once I landed on T'ias and saw you, Master?"
"Why do you think, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon lifted the hand that had
been stroking along the still deeply bruised flesh over the
breaks in his arm. He brushed fingers against the spot that
still held the remnants of a headache on Obi-Wan's temple. "Why
do you think your thoughts are as open to me as if they were my
own?"
Obi-Wan licked his lips and found himself leaning into
Qui-Gon's healing touch. "I don't suppose its just another
Master's trick," he said somewhat dryly, retreating into humor
from the crest of emotion/thoughts/future that waited just
beyond at the edge of his perception.
Qui-Gon shook his head. He brought up his other hand and
duplicated the simple massage against Obi-Wan's other temple.
He now cradled Obi-Wan's face and their breaths fell onto each
other's slightly parted lips.
After feeling so much pain over the past few days, Obi-Wan
could only close his eyes and let his mind and body collapse
into the sheer bliss that filled him from this sudden absence
of any any pain. With that absence he could also now
sense the purity of the Living Force that so often eluded him.
The moment allowed himself to forget past, to ignore future, to
simply accept this perfect ... peace. Then something shifted
deep within his mind and Obi-Wan felt an almost overpowering
need to share his contentment/tranquillity/delight/ease.
Somehow he knew that such sharing would lead him into yet
another perfect moment, to another perfect place.
Obi-Wan didn't think about what to do, that he didn't know what
to do. Before him was the moment, the Force, Qui-Gon, and in
the next instant they were the moment, joined as never
before.
From that one moment sprang an overwhelming number of new
moments. The future. Infinite futures. Obi-Wan had but to reach
out and choose one.
The possibilities swirled around him, some beckoning, some
demanding, all showing futures of peace, of horror, of lives he
would lead and change and lose and save. No mortal, not even a
Jedi could stand against this offering, not and remain sane,
for to choose one future also meant knowing forever all of
those not chosen. So Obi-Wan did the only thing he could, made
the only choice that truly mattered. And let the future slide
from his mind and back into the infinite.
When he finally could open his eyes again, he found himself
sitting on Qui-Gon's lap, cradled between arms and chest with
his head tucked beneath his Master's chin. He raised his eyes
to seek out the other's, then raised his own chin. He needed no
words, instead using his mind, heart, soul and lips to convey
his choice.
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