Archive: Sith Chicks, SWAL, AllMaulFic, my site
Archive Date: September 20, 2000
Author's Webpage: http://www.angelfire.com/scifi/theglobe
Category: AU, primarily Angst/Drama with Adventure and Romance thrown in for good measure
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts are copyrighted by Lucasfilm; I'm just having a little non-profit fun.
Feedback: Is always welcome!
Notes: I've had this idea knocking around in my head literally for months, but it just wouldn't gel for me until I started bouncing ideas off my co-writer, who's been a tremendous help not only with the actual writing but also with brainstorming, creating dialogue, beta'ing--you name it. This story has gotten progressively more detailed with more twists and turns than I expected, and I literally could not have done it alone. :-)
Pairing: O/Maul
Rating: NC-17
Series: Knight Moves
Summary: Nope. Sorry, you're just gonna have to read it. *g*

Obi-Wan Kenobi's boot heels rang on the cool marble floor as he strode down the hall toward the Council chamber; his stride was long--a habit left over from years of trying to keep up with his Master--and his expression remarkably calm for one who had been summoned by the Council. But it was hardly the first time, and he had grown somewhat immune to the usual intimidation effects that the mere mention of the Council seemed to have on most other Jedi.

It was, he thought with no little amusement, yet another trait of his Master's he found himself exhibiting. The hundred little gods knew he had been down this path often enough with Qui-Gon, and in the later years of his apprenticeship, Obi-Wan remembered doubting he would ever be as casual about appearing before the Council as his Master had seemed to be. Qui-Gon would have been amused as well to learn that he had gradually lost his fear of those summons which used to leave him nauseated and all but shaking in his boots; they would have laughed over the change, and his Master probably would have teased Obi-Wan about becoming more and more like him as he grew older, and Obi-Wan wouldn't have argued.

How could he? It was true. It seemed he was learning the same lesson many children learn: the son eventually becomes his father. But this was one typicality Obi-Wan was pleased to have fallen into.

It had been just over two years since Qui-Gon's death, and while the pain of that loss had dulled to a bearable ache, Obi-Wan still couldn't think about him without regret and longing. He had grown up a lot since Naboo--he'd had to--and there were things now he wished he could say. He wanted to be able to tell his Master how much he loved him, how much he missed and needed his guidance and support--and suddenly his thoughts brought to life the ache he had been foolish enough to call "bearable," turning it into a serrated pain that sliced his heart as if that hateful day on Naboo had just occurred.

Drawing in a deep breath, he centered himself and started walking again, not wanting to be late for his meeting even though he doubted he would be allowed in at the appointed time. The Council may run late, but everyone else had better be on time or they were likely to feel the sting of Master Yoda's cane and Master Windu's tongue.

As soon as he approached the entrance to the Council chamber, a young Knight on guard duty bowed his head in acknowledgment and ushered him inside. Usually when a Jedi was summoned to appear before the Council, they put him or her through The Wait. Obi-Wan didn't know if it was simply because they were so busy or if it was some psychological game they liked to play, knowing the longer someone stood outside the doors, the more nervous they became even if they were just there to pick up a mission assignment. Frankly, he wouldn't put it past Master Yoda to enjoy keeping people off-guard like that. He would probably say it was a valuable lesson in patience for them.

But for the first time, Obi-Wan didn't have to sweat through The Wait--and unaccountably, that made him more apprehensive than The Wait would have done. Now he was wondering what was so important that they didn't make him cool his heels in the hall for at least fifteen minutes before deigning to see him.

A second surprise greeted him as soon as he entered the chamber itself: it was empty except for Master Yoda and Master Windu and, he noticed as he did a quick scan of the entire room, a robed figure standing in the shadows well out of the way.

"Knight Kenobi." Mace Windu greeted him with his usual formality, his smooth voice calm and neutral, giving away nothing. "I suppose you wonder why you're here, especially with only the two of us." He inclined his head towards Yoda, who was leaning forward on his gimer stick and watching Obi-Wan intently.

"I assumed you were going to assign us another mission, but you didn't summon--"

"A new mission have we, yes," Yoda interrupted suddenly. "But things there are you must learn before your partner."

"Why?" He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Don't you trust him?"

"Yes." Mace spoke quietly but firmly. "However, this is a very important, very dangerous mission for you both. It's also very personal for you both in different ways. We thought it best if you meet with our operative privately first."

"I don't understand--" he began, but just then, Yoda gestured abruptly to the silent figure in the background, a typically imperious summons to join them.

"Come here, come here, yes." The Master was speaking to the stranger, but his green eyes were fixed on Obi-Wan. "Much to say, you will have, hmm? Leave you we will. Explain he will."

And with that, he thumped Mace on the shin with his stick--something Obi-Wan had never seen before, and he just barely managed to keep his expression neutral even when Master Windu grimaced and cast a resentful look at Yoda. Without looking back at anyone in the room, Yoda waddled out, and Mace followed dutifully behind, not quite favoring his stricken leg, but Obi-Wan would have bet he wanted to. He knew from experience that Master Yoda didn't pull his strength when he delivered those whacks, and even through sturdy boots, he could leave a bruise.

As the door silently shut behind the two Jedi Masters, Obi-Wan turned and faced the stranger again, regarding him curiously. For a long moment, silence hung between them, charged with a tension he didn't understand. He wanted to speak, but somehow he felt that anything he said would be inappropriate although he didn't know why.

And then the man reached up to touch the hood drawn far over his face. Obi-Wan's gaze followed the stranger's hands--and he suddenly found himself peering more closely.

Those hands...

Those large, strong hands...

Then the obscuring fabric of the hood was falling back, and Obi-Wan gasped, his eyes growing wide with shock.

The face was more lined and care-worn than he remembered, the hair longer and much more streaked with gray, but there was no doubt about who was standing before him.

He felt his mouth open, but nothing came out; questions roiled around in his mind--"Are you real?" "Is this a dream?" "Where in the names of all the small gods have you been?" "Why in Sith hell didn't you tell me you were still alive?" "What is going on here?"--but there were too many crowding his brain for him to choose just one to voice. Instead, he chose to act first, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around the taller man, a joyful sob escaping him when he felt those arms enclose him in return. Burying his face against the man's neck, he breathed in deeply, and there it was--that familiar, comforting scent. It could only belong to one person.

His Master.

Somehow, by some miracle of Fate or the Force, his Master had come home.

Obi-Wan tipped his chin back so he could look up at his Master without leaving the comforting embrace; now that the shock had worn off, he found himself divided. Part of him wanted to keep clinging and never let go, but a larger part of him was growing angry, wanting to demand answers. As glad as he was to see Qui-Gon Jinn again, his appearance meant that he, Obi-Wan, had been lied to--his Master of all people had lied to him--and he didn't like that in the slightest.

"I'm glad you're here," he said at last, releasing Qui-Gon and stepping back enough that he could look at him without straining his neck. "But what happened?"

Qui-Gon nodded and tucked his hands in the sleeves of his robes, seeming to understand that the question encompassed everything from "how did you manage to pull this off" to "what the Sith hell have you been doing all this time?"

"I had orders," Qui-Gon said simply, and it was Obi-Wan's turn to nod to show he understood.

As much of a maverick as his Master had always been, he was first and foremost a Jedi. He lived to serve the Order, and that was the first priority in his life, even over his own emotional considerations.

"The Council wanted answers about the Sith--whether we had encountered the Master or the Apprentice and where they were located. I've spent the last two years tracking down the Master. I've finally found him, and I returned home to report my findings."

Obi-Wan backed away another step, still torn between wanting to usher his Master somewhere safe and warm where he could take care of him, and wanting to unleash two years' worth of pain and anger at him for deceiving everyone--especially him.

"Why was it necessary to pretend to be dead? And how did you manage that?" He felt the familiar tightness in his throat as memories of the duel and Qui-Gon's funeral rose up all too achingly clear.

Something flickered in Qui-Gon's weary eyes, something too fleeting for Obi-Wan to identify, but he thought it might have been regret.

"The Council hoped that with the best warrior in the Temple dead, Sidious would grow more confident in his powers--and more careless. Also, if I were reported dead, I would be the last person Sidious would think to look for and guard against." He sighed and ran one hand over his face, a gesture that even now Obi-Wan remembered meant he was tired. "And so I died on Naboo. Or rather, a clone of me created by the Temple Healers died. I was here all the while, preparing for my mission."

Obi-Wan stared at him, barely able to keep his lower jaw from dropping. "A clone...?" He let out a bark of strangled laughter, earning a puzzled look from his Master.

"You find that amusing?"

"I'll explain later," he replied, waving dismissively. There was time enough to explain the new-found irony of the situation: apparently he had been the only one who was truly himself during that fight. "Why couldn't you tell me all this? Why did you have to die to me as well?"

"Obi-Wan..." For the first time, Qui-Gon reached out, laying his broad palm against the younger man's cheek, and this time, the sadness and regret was clear to read in his pale blue eyes. "It was not my decision. I argued that it would serve no purpose to keep you ignorant, but the Council were adamant. For the sake of the mission, they wanted the illusion to be as complete as possible. That meant keeping the truth from you as well no matter how much it grieved me to do so. I had to sever our bond. I had to leave you. But never has anything been more difficult for me to do."

Obi-Wan gazed steadily up at Qui-Gon, weighing his words and taking them as truth. The emotion was there for him to read in his Master's eyes, and he didn't doubt that as difficult as the separation had been for him, it had been just as--perhaps more--difficult for Qui-Gon. The Jedi Master had been forced to leave everything behind him, isolated from his home and everyone he cared about. They had suffered the pain of thinking him dead, but he had suffered the pain of knowing they were alive yet perpetually out of his reach no matter how much he wanted or needed them. Obi-Wan had been hurt, yes, but he had not been alone.

Qui-Gon had been completely alone every day for the past two years with no way of knowing when or if that forced isolation would end. That realization was too painful to let Obi-Wan hold on to his anger. Whatever he had suffered, it was nothing compared to his Master's ordeal. Anger and resentment fled, leaving him with only the joy of having the impossible suddenly made real--his Master was home.

"I've missed you so much, Master," he said softly, leaning into Qui-Gon's touch.

"And I have missed you, my Padawan." He caressed Obi-Wan's cheek with his thumb gently. "Much has changed while I have been gone," he added, smoothing his hand over Obi-Wan's hair, which was now long and silky--a contrast to the short, spiky Padawan cut that Qui-Gon had last seen him with. "Tell me, Padawan--tell me everything. We can discuss the mission later. I want to know about you now."

"All right." Obi-Wan smiled and gestured to the door. "Shall we go back to my quarters? We can talk there, and you can rest."

Qui-Gon lifted one eyebrow at him. "Already nurse-maiding me, Padawan?"

"Old habits die hard, Master," he answered with a mischievous grin. "I even remember how you like your tea. So--shall we go?"

"Yes, Padawan." Qui-Gon finally returned Obi-Wan's warm smile as he slipped his arm across the younger man's shoulders. "Let's go home."

"You didn't keep our old quarters?" Qui-Gon asked as they exited the elevator, bypassed the corridor leading to the Masters' suites, and strode through the maze of hallways containing the knights' private apartments. Aware of the surprised and even outright shocked looks he was receiving as a Jedi Master returned from the dead, Qui-Gon was much more focused on Obi-Wan and where they were going.

"I wanted to keep them, but Council wouldn't let me," the young knight murmured, ducking his head in what seemed to be embarrassment. "It's a long story, Master."

"One I look forward to hearing, I assure you."

Obi-Wan cast a grin upward. "We'll be talking all night."

"It won't be the first time, Pada... Obi-Wan."

"You can call me Padawan." The younger man shrugged. "I've missed your voice so much, you can call me anything." Reaching the anticipated door, Obi-Wan suddenly turned and hugged Qui-Gon, who returned the gesture with simple affection. Palming the door control, Obi-Wan grinned and sketched a regal bow. "After you, my Master."

Smiling at the display, Qui-Gon preceded him across the threshold and into the narrow entry. Light from the setting sun flooded the common room beyond, reflecting even brighter off of the skyscrapers beyond the Temple tower walls. The Master halted only a few feet inside the door as a ripple in the Force commanded him to full awareness. The ripple came again as he saw the silhouette of a man kneeling on a meditation mat before the transparisteel window dominating the common area. Rising gracefully to his feet, the man crossed the room, left the blinding backlight and moved toward the Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon shivered slightly. His hand stole to the hilt of his lightsaber, his breathing grew more rapid. At the gesture, the smaller man's gaze flickered with what might have been mild alarm. He stopped his approach halfway across the room.

Coming up beside Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan laid a hand on his arm. "Master, I'd like you to meet--"

"I know you," Qui-Gon interrupted, releasing his saber hilt as the man made no threatening moves, and Obi-Wan's calm told him that he belonged there. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon willed himself to relax and straightened to his full height. "You're the apprentice."

Tilting his head back, the man met the Master's gaze and spoke in a low, smooth voice. "I am apprenticed to no one, sir."

"You were apprenticed to Sidious," came the quiet rebuttal. "We met on Tatooine. I know your Force signature."

Astonishment flashed in the smaller man's eyes.

Bowing, Qui-Gon offered his most diplomatic smile. "The Council told me that you'd joined the Jedi. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn, and I've looked forward to meeting you again, under friendlier circumstances." Turning slightly, he looked down at Obi-Wan. "I also look forward to hearing how Maul came to quarter with you."

"He's my bonded mate," Obi-Wan said with quiet pride. His gaze caressed the other man even as his hand reached out to touch him, no matter the distance between them. "It's another long story, Master."

The Force thrummed with the truth of the statement, intermingling their Force signatures. Qui-Gon all but staggered before the wave of fierce love and commitment.

Our teaching bond once felt like that, came the sorrowful thought. Swallowing hard, he fought the anguish flooding his heart, threatening to stop his words. In serving the Council, I've lost far more than two years.

"As you pointed out," Qui-Gon managed to speak past the pain, "we have all night."

"Pardon me," Maul murmured, "but how do you know it was me you met on Tatooine?"

"I've encountered several of your Master's clones. They carry your Force signature. Yours, however, is more dense and much stronger. For the past two years, I've been tracking your former Master's signature."

Maul held the Master's gaze and seemed to ponder his words. "That must require massive amounts of concentration."

"It does. It's also part of the reason why it's taken two years for me to find him." Rubbing the bridge of his nose as a headache throbbed behind his eyes, Qui-Gon sighed. "It's been a long journey--frustrating and nerve-wracking more than rewarding--but his current location has finally been laid bare. I've returned to Coruscant to gather a team we hope will prove instrumental in destroying him."

Maul nodded. "I assume I will be included on that team."

Qui-Gon was all too aware of the 'you'd damn well better include me' tone behind the words. "I wouldn't think of excluding you."

"I will assist in any way I can."

The Force rippled again, assuring Qui-Gon of Maul's total commitment, and the Master found himself grateful for that reassurance. One less thing to worry about. He remained where he was while Maul retreated back into the common area. Obi-Wan followed him.

"Master, why don't you make yourself comfortable while I see to the tea?"

"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Shrugging out of his cloak, Qui-Gon laid it on the back of the couch. Much to his surprise, his hands were not shaking. The Master's mask, the famed Jedi control, was firmly in place. This did not, however, prevent his every breath from being wracked by a stabbing pain that went straight through his heart. Bonded... to Maul. I've come back far too late, and I've lost my Obi-Wan.

Concentrate on the mission, just as you have for the past two years, another part of him ordered. Duty got you through the worst of it. Don't think, serve.

As I've always served. The thought came with no little bitterness. I'll have to work on releasing that into the Force later.

Smoothing a hand over the cloak, he settled on the couch. Meeting Maul's gaze, he realized that the man had been watching him the entire time. The blue eyes were impenetrable, offering no hint of their owner's thoughts.

How much does he see? How much does he understand? Qui-Gon snorted softly to himself. How much can he understand? He's been with Obi-Wan for only two years. Love him well, Maul. Obi-Wan is very special to me.

His years of diplomatic expertise and negotiation ensured that the words he uttered aloud were soothing and reassuring; his thick shields ensured there was no trace of the sad, disturbed thoughts behind them. I'm not upset with you, Knight Maul, he acknowledged, regardless the man could not hear him think. I'm just not very pleased with the situation as I continue to find it.

"What you did in leaving your master took great courage," Qui-Gon said quietly, meaning it. "I felt his rage when he tried to kill you."

The blue eyes widened slightly. "You... felt it?"

"Each time Sidious uses the Force, it leaves tendrils that I can sense."

Maul nodded. "I've felt what you speak of, but never at such a distance. Sidious prides himself on masking well. Your power within the Force equals his if you can sense him across the galaxy."

Qui-Gon ignored the compliment, unwilling to confirm or deny Maul's assessment of his ability. "I've been following him for months, making short, wary progress. The journey has been long and hard. Your own signature was entwined with his until you broke the bond. Sidious expended so much Force energy in his attack upon you, I nearly found him then. Until the Council told me that you'd come to the Temple, I thought he had destroyed you."

"He nearly did. I survived."

"Obviously. He's using clones of you."

Maul nodded. "Obi-Wan and I killed one here on Coruscant only six months ago.

Qui-Gon leaned forward. "I've seen more in various stages of development. You should know that Sidious is back on Naboo."

"On Naboo??" Obi-Wan erupted as he left the kitchen, carried the tea to the table. "Of all the Sith-cursed planets of the galaxy, why does it have to be Naboo?"

Qui-Gon and Maul exchanged a glance, and Qui-Gon was surprised to find himself sharing a moment of rapport with the other Jedi: neither of them wanted to discuss Naboo. They had their own separate reasons, but the topic was still very much a sore spot.

"How are we to access it?" Maul asked, offering a diversion that Qui-Gon latched onto without hesitation.

"All of Naboo is not as lush and hospitable as Theed," Qui-Gon explained. "Sidious has established his fortress in the freezing southern hemisphere, atop a sheer cliff of ice that is accessible only by air. Our mission is to destroy what we can of that fortress--including the cloning facilities. We are to destroy Sidious himself, if we can manage it."

Obi-Wan offered Qui-Gon a mug of tea. Taking it, the Master stared at the earthenware. "Obi-Wan...."

"It's the same mug," he offered. "I... borrowed it from our quarters permanently before Council made me move."

The Master's long fingers moved over the old ceramic--a swirl of blue and green that was very much like Obi-Wan's eyes. How many times did he hand me this mug over the years? How many memories are wrapped up in it?

"You're remembering, aren't you, Master?" Obi-Wan's soft tones interrupted. "What are you thinking?"

Jolting himself out of the past, Qui-Gon shook his head and didn't meet the knight's gaze. "I'm sure that Maul wouldn't want to be bored by your old Master's tales."

"On the contrary, I--"

"We should focus on the mission and not get lost in reminiscence, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon continued. "There will be plenty of time to remember what has come before, if we survive this mission." Pretending to drink from the mug, Qui-Gon leaned forward and set it on the table. Well out of reach.

Obi-Wan frowned, confusion shadowing his eyes, and Qui-Gon was all too aware of his former Padawan's searching gaze.. Steepling his fingers, Maul watched as well.

Don't see too much, my friend. Qui-Gon settled back on the couch once more. You may not enjoy the view.

Ignoring the bewilderment that he knew was building in his former Padawan, Qui-Gon deftly steered the conversation with all of the diplomatic expertise at his disposal. He ignored, too, the brief glance that passed between the two knights. He needed no connection with their bond to sense the conversation they were most likely having through it.

This is the warm, affectionate Master you told me about?

He wasn't like this when I knew him! Something is very wrong.

Qui-Gon stifled a sigh. Nothing is wrong, Obi-Wan, except that I've returned to a world where I'm neither wanted or needed. Duty is all that's left to me, now that you belong with another. I had dreams... but regardless my own wishes, they died two years ago in a melting pit on Naboo. I wish I'd known beforehand, as then I could have spared us all the discomfort of my presence here tonight. The Council has spoken, and we will be allowed to serve one last mission together. I will cherish every moment spent with you--made all the more bittersweet for knowing those moments will never come again. I promise you, as soon as it is over, I will go. This old man won't intrude upon the new life you've forged.

Drawing a shallow breath, Qui-Gon focused on the mission. "I also need to inform you that, as far as they are able, Council has investigated the connection between Senator Palpatine and Sidious based on Maul's memories seen during the extensive mental probes he was subjected to at the time of his arrival at the Temple. At this time, they believe Palpatine is probably a clone."

Maul visibly started at this, and Qui-Gon almost smiled, already having seen and heard enough of the man to know that he must be surprised indeed by the information to show such a strong reaction.

"You did not know this?" he asked to confirm his suspicion, and Maul shook his head.

"I have never had the occasion to meet the Supreme Chancellor."

Qui-Gon nodded tersely, then continued. "If it's at all possible, we've been asked to obtain hard genetic evidence of this theory. To that end, Master Windu has suggested that the assistance of a healer might be beneficial, as he or she would know what to look for."

The two knights exchanged another glance, and Obi-Wan offered a quick grin. "I think we can recommend someone."

"Yes?"

"Her name is Maede," Maul explained. "She is well acquainted with our fighting style."

"That's because she's put us back together every time we've taken each other apart in practice," added Obi-Wan, his amusement and affection plain. "You've not met her, Master. She transferred from the Temple on Thelos about a year ago."

"I'll seek her out, then. See if she is willing to join us." Rising from his place, Qui-Gon gathered his cloak. "I think it's time that I took my leave of you. I arrived only this morning, and I've still to be assigned quarters--"

Obi-Wan all but exploded out of his seat. "You can stay here, Master. We've plenty of room, and it would be like old times."

The Master shook his head. "I don't think that's wise, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's frown deepened as his Master regarded him solemnly. The wall was all too obvious and all too solid, but there Obi-Wan's understanding ended, as Qui-Gon wished it to end.

Looking from the older man to the younger, Maul rose and bowed. "You are most welcome to join us. I will retire while you discuss this."

Obi-Wan watched his mate leave the room, waited until the door to their bedroom slid firmly closed behind Maul. Turning his attention back to Qui-Gon, he watched the older man settle into his cloak.

"Master, will you stand with me on the balcony for a few minutes before you go?"

"Of course, Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon stared out at the moonlit cityscape, his long fingers entwined and braced on the railing.

Obi-Wan regarded his Master's profile, let his eyes trace the broken nose. The last time I stared like this, it was at his clone while it lay burning on the byre in Theed. Briefly, Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon's line of sight. What does he find so fascinating about that stack of buildings over there? Why won't he look at me? Why won't he talk to me?

"Did you miss Coruscant?"

"I missed you, Obi-Wan, as well the Temple. As for Coruscant proper..." He let out a slow breath, as though he'd been holding it for a long time. "Sidious crossed the galaxy so often that I lost count, and the trail led back here many times."

"Was it hard, not contacting me?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes on the question and bowed his head. "For as long as I live, Obi-Wan, I will regret not contacting you."

Well, that certainly sounded heartfelt, Obi-Wan thought. But why does he still sound like he's missing me when I'm right here?

Turning his head, Qui-Gon locked his gaze into Obi-Wan's. Light from inside the apartment threw the Master's face into harsh, shadowed relief. Deep sadness reflected from the dark blue depths of his eyes, lending even more weight to his gaze.

"How did you come to bond with him, Obi-Wan?"

It was Obi-Wan's turn to stare at the cityscape as he gathered his thoughts.

"It wasn't my choice at first, but I can't say I regret any of it," he replied in a voice that was more matter-of-fact than anything else. "The Force brought us together--literally. Once I accepted him, our bond only grew stronger."

Turning around, Obi-Wan leaned against the railing. "Maul makes me happier than I ever thought I would be after Naboo, Master. He's a friend I can talk to, a lover, a challenge to me in so many ways. We balance each other, complete each other. He's... my other half."

Nodding, Qui-Gon said nothing, silently urged the younger man to continue.

"I never imagined that I could mesh with someone like this other than you. But it's happened." He offered an almost shy smile. "We're a good team--well-matched in a lot of ways. He's my partner in more ways than one. He brought hope, love, and joy back into my life when I needed it the most. And... I love him. It's as simple as that."

A heavy hand rested on Obi-Wan's shoulder and squeezed. The touch was so solid, and so welcome. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his cheek against the back of that hand. I missed you so much. And I never thought to feel your touch again, Master.

He sent the thought singing through the training bond, only to remember too late that their bond had been severed. Qui-Gon could no longer hear him. Even as the thought stuttered and died along the bond's jagged edges, Obi-Wan also realized that Maul had probably heard the thought through their own bond.

"Maul is a good man, Obi-Wan. I'm glad you've found someone so strong in the Force to love you. Already, I trust him."

"You do?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "You sound astonished."

Obi-Wan offered a wry smile. "It took me a little longer, Master. When I first met him, I--"

A long arm came around his shoulder to hug him, startling him to the point that he forgot to finish the sentence.

"As much as I would like to hear your story, Knight Kenobi, I've been up for fifty hours straight and unfortunately need to sleep. Please forgive me for ending our evening this way?"

Obi-Wan returned the hug. "There's nothing to forgive. I should have known the Council would demand all of your time and energy your first day back. Won't you reconsider and stay here? Maul's old room is free."

"No, Obi-Wan."

He knew that tone--the one that said the discussion was at an end, to not even try pursuing it. Giving a slight shrug, he smiled up at the older man, who looked away rather than return his smile. Bafflement battled for its place alongside the quiet elation over his Master's return.

Ducking back into the common room, Qui-Gon headed for the door. It was an all-too-clear signal that the visit was at an end, and Obi-Wan obeyed that signal as though he were still his Master's Padawan. Twenty questions were still on his mind, but he sensed that now was not the time to ask. Though his Master turned and offered a smile when he stood before the door, that smile did not reach his eyes. Some deep sadness lingered--something Obi-Wan could not touch, and was not being allowed to understand.

"We'll meet again soon, after I've spoken with Maede," Qui-Gon offered.

"Yes, Master." On impulse, Obi-Wan hugged him again. "I'm very glad you're alive, and that you've come back."

Qui-Gon returned the hug, and for a moment Obi-Wan thought he felt the brush of his lips on the top of his head. If so, it was a farewell more in keeping with another long good-bye than the overnight separation Obi-Wan knew would follow. A chill ran up his spine, a warning that something was very wrong. Devoid of Force vibration, it was based in pure instinct and his having lived with this man every hour for thirteen years. But no, it had to be his imagination... hadn't it?

"I'll see you tomorrow," he stated, needing to hear Qui-Gon agree, needing the reassurance and still wishing that his Master would stay and take the extra bedroom. Sleep where I can watch you, can reassure myself that you're back, you're real, and this isn't a dream.

"Tomorrow, most probably," Qui-Gon agreed, releasing Obi-Wan and palming the lock. "Good-night, my Padawan. Sleep well."

And with that, he was gone.

"Padawan..." Obi-Wan whispered, hugging the word and the memory close. With Qui-Gon's low voice still ringing in his ears, Obi-Wan laid his hand over the door and grinned. "Goodnight, my Master."

But for all that Qui-Gon had used his former title, Obi-Wan still had the vague feeling that something wasn't quite right. He didn't know why or what, but his Master wasn't acting like... well, like his Master. Maybe it was due to having spent the last two years alone, maybe he was tired, maybe he was trying to adjust to being back at the Temple. Obi scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and tried to push it out of his mind. It was a temporary problem, it had to be. The next time he saw Qui-Gon, everything would be exactly like it was before. He had to believe that. To think otherwise was... not acceptable.

With a sigh, he turned and headed for the bedroom; Maul was probably asleep by now, so he would curl up around him and try to sleep as well, to rest his mind after the stunning events of this evening. But when the door slid shut behind him, a glance at the bed showed him it was empty. The covers were turned back, but Maul wasn't anywhere to be seen. Frowning slightly, Obi looked around--and there, out of the shadows, stepped Maul.

He glided out of the darkness silently, hidden one moment and visible the next, and stood by the bed, neither speaking nor moving, just watching; the pale light filtering in through the window turned his face, hands and a narrow V down his chest to marble--a portrait in light and darkness. The rest of his body was hidden beneath a black silk robe Obi had given him.

"You'll like it," Obi remembered saying. "The feel of silk on bare skin is very sensual..." he had whispered in his lover's ear. "Hedonistic..." As touch-oriented as Maul could be when it came to certain things, Obi knew his lover would enjoy the garment--and so would he, especially removing it.

Obi's throat went dry as Maul shrugged, sending the robe sliding off his arms and down his body, revealing that he had been naked beneath it. Shivering, Obi leaned against the door, part of him wondering what had prompted this unexpected seduction and part of him not caring. He was still partially in shock over his Master's return, he still had questions, and he felt as if he'd been given too much to absorb at once. All he wanted to do now was not-think; the approved Jedi method of this was meditation, but there was no way he was going to walk out that door and give up the chance to forget the world in his mate's arms.

Maul tilted his chin down and gazed steadily at Obi, his expression closed and unreadable. It could have been a trick of the light, but it seemed his mouth was thinned into a determined line, not soft with desire. And then he began stalking towards Obi with feral intensity, his eyes never leaving Obi's. Obi drank in the sight greedily, watching the graceful lines of Maul's body as he moved, the play of muscle beneath skin. Beautiful.

He stopped scant inches away, going utterly still in that way of his that was so deceptive and strangely feline; he could be motionless one moment and spring into action the next. Now he was simply looking at Obi again, not speaking, not touching. Unable to resist the temptation, Obi stroked his cheek, letting his fingers glide slowly down to trace his lips, his jaw, but instead of leaning into the touch as he usually did, Maul remained unmoving. Puzzled, Obi looked directly into Maul's eyes, searching for some clue to this unusual behavior, and they held a haunted look that he hadn't seen lurking in those dark blue depths in months.

Then Maul blinked, and it was gone, replaced by a guarded look much like what Obi had seen in Qui-Gon's eyes earlier.

No... No, not Maul. Not his lover too. It was bad enough feeling as if there were walls between himself and his Master, but he couldn't bear to think the same barriers were forming between himself and Maul as well. And he didn't even know why!

Capturing Maul's face between his hands, Obi pulled him into a kiss, demanding entrance to his mouth, seeking out his tongue, tasting every corner as if for the first time. Maul pressed against him, letting Obi feel the heat of his body even through the layers between them; Obi slid his hands down Maul's back and fit them to the curve of his backside, pulling him close even as he pushed his own hips forward, resenting the clothes that still separated them.

As if sensing or sharing Obi's frustration, Maul reached for Obi's belt, using his own deft fingers and a touch of the Force to remove it and his sash quickly. Once they had slithered to the floor, Maul slipped his hands beneath Obi's tunics, caressing his bare skin and sliding the garments off until only his boots and leggings remained.

Grasping Maul's shoulders, Obi propelled him backwards toward the bed, and for once, Maul acquiesced willingly, teasing and taunting him with fleeting caresses every step of the way. Once there, Maul planted his hands on Obi's chest and pushed him down, then knelt at his feet to help remove his boots; once they were discarded, he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Obi's leggings, tugging hard enough to make the command perfectly clear: "stand up now."

Obi-Wan complied instantly, running his hands restlessly over Maul's back as the smaller man slowly pulled the drawstring free and slid his hands beneath the fabric, caressing Obi's heated skin, pushing the leggings down until he could kick them off and away. Obi wrapped his arms around his mate as they lowered themselves to the bed, rolling until Maul was on top, and he suddenly found his wrists pinned over his head as Maul trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his throat.

As his lover arched beneath him, Maul ran his tongue along Obi's collarbones, then laved the tantalizing hollow at the base of his throat before resuming the slow, lingering kisses downward until he could no longer continue without relinquishing his hold on Obi's arms. Raising himself up again, he locked his gaze with Obi-Wan's, and it seemed there was a silent plea in those enigmatic depths, but Obi didn't know what it was, much less how to answer it.

Instead, he pulled his hands free and ran them down Maul's body, letting them come to rest on his hips, and he caressed the tender area where hip became thigh with his thumbs. Maul began rocking gently against him, and desire spiked through him, making him dig his fingers into Maul's sides as he met each rocking motion with increasingly desperate thrusts of his own.

"Tell me you need me." Maul's voice was soft and low, a black velvet caress.

"I need you..."

Yes, gods, yes--he needed to feel something right and normal in the midst of this skewed life he suddenly found himself in; he needed to lose himself in passion and to forget all the unanswered questions; he needed to love and be loved without any barriers; he needed support; he needed someone to tell him things would work out all right in the end, and even if things didn't work out, that someone would still be there for him, that he wouldn't be left alone again, not ever again. He needed his mate.

He turned almost frantic then, his hands caressing anywhere and everywhere they could reach, his lips skimming over every inch of Maul's skin that he could touch. Somehow, Maul found the lubricant and prepared himself because Obi was too intent on touching, kissing and caressing him to help. He needed, yes, he needed desperately, he needed now. And then Maul moved between his legs, raising his knees and settling against him.

Moaning, Obi lifted his hips in an invitation that Maul didn't refuse; he began thrusting in slow, small increments until he was buried completely in Obi's eager, compliant body. Obi set the pace, encouraging his mate to thrust fast and hard, wanting that pounding rhythm to sweep him away to temporary oblivion, needing to be taken out of himself if only for a moment.

The friction of their bodies stoked his own passion higher, and when Maul reached down to stroke him, he couldn't hold out much longer; within moments, he exploded, crying out, babbling words of love and desire he couldn't even remember afterwards. Then he felt Maul's climax deep within him, and he sighed with boneless contentment, languidly wrapping his arms around his mate and holding him in place, basking in the delicious contact.

After his breathing had slowed to normal, Maul carefully disengaged from Obi's embrace, and Obi let him, too drowsy and sated to protest; besides, he knew the ritual: Maul would clean them both up and then nestle close again for sleep. As he expected, it wasn't long before he felt a warm, wet cloth gliding over his body; his skin chilled as the water dried, but he closed his eyes and snuggled into his pillow, knowing Maul would be back soon to warm him.

And then he felt the heat of Maul's body curving around his, fitting together like spoons, felt Maul's arms surrounding him protectively, and he relaxed, sinking deeper into a calming, restful state.

Behind him, Maul nestled his cheek against Obi's shoulder, and Obi was surprised to feel it still wet; the sweat from their exertion had already dissipated on his own face, but sleep was claiming him, and he had no time to wonder any longer as he drifted off, safe and secure with his bonded mate.

Qui-Gon decided that he would be glad when the startled, surprised, and delighted looks stopped coming his way from knights and masters he barely knew.

Anonymity is a fine thing, he reflected, nodding acknowledgment at the latest "Welcome home, Master Jinn." A pity anonymity isn't mine.

Going to the Temple registry, he leaned over the kiosk and punched in his personal code to seek accommodations. Back came the automated message: JINN, QUI-GON ASSIGNED 3RD QUADRANT, MASTER'S TOWER, 306-B.

With a jolt, he realized that even as the Council had moved Obi-Wan out of their old apartments, they'd not reassigned them.

For the first time in fifteen years, he returned from a mission and made the journey to the Master's Tower by himself. Always, another had been two paces behind his right shoulder, if not by his side. It felt very wrong to be walking alone.

He'd been alone for two years--totally alone in the absolute privacy of his own thoughts and feelings, fears and regrets. The aloneness and the regrets had been made bearable because Qui-Gon had always assumed that one day he'd come home and Obi-Wan would be there. He'd make his explanations, Obi-Wan would understand, and all would be well. It wasn't uncommon for masters and their padawan to take missions together after the padawan was knighted, and this master had allowed himself the luxury of dreaming that such would be the case between himself and Obi-Wan. He looked forward to the day when the bond the Council had ordered severed would be re-established, when they would serve missions together as equals rather than master and subordinate.

That was impossible, now. The dream was dead, never to be. Along with that realization came an unending loneliness that had Qui-Gon gasping for breath as he entered his old rooms.

Everything was in its place... everything, except Obi-Wan and the small reminders of their life together. Of course he'd take those with him. They were in other rooms now, mingled with whatever things Maul had accumulated in his short time with the Jedi. Mingled, even as Obi-Wan's life and soul were mingled with Maul's.

Settling heavily on the arm of the couch, Qui-Gon looked around the darkened room. He didn't bother to raise the lights, regardless it would have taken nothing but a flick of his hand and a minuscule application of Force energy. It was never dark on Coruscant; he could see well enough from the lights of the city sprawled outside of the Temple. There was the bookcase with his beloved treatises on Force philosophy and application: notes were scrawled in the margins in his own hand. There were his gifts from Obi-Wan, every one a precious memento with even more precious memories surrounding it.

His desk sat quietly in the corner, a datapad containing necessary information on the Federation Trade Embargo of Naboo resting at the corner. Time had stood still in these rooms, at least for Qui-Gon. He'd also assumed that time had stood still for him while he served the Council and searched for Sidious. Only now he understood that nothing could be further from the truth.

Surrounded by his former life, Qui-Gon felt strange in these rooms, as withdrawn and remote as he'd been on the mission now completed. It was how he'd been with Obi-Wan that evening, as well, once those four heart-shattering words had been spoken: "He's my bonded mate."

Sliding down to collapse on the couch, Qui-Gon yanked out the tie holding back his hair, tossed it aside, and ran his hands through his hair. Obi-Wan is bonded. To another.

Even now, the pain was fresh and sharp, making it difficult for him to breathe. Withdrawn and remote? Yes, that's how he'd been with his former Padawan--moreso than Obi-Wan had ever had occasion to experience-- except, perhaps, after his return from Melida/Daan, when Qui-Gon had been deeply conflicted about resuming their Master/Padawan relationship.

But how else should I have been tonight, my Padawan? No, not mine. Never again, mine. If I had not withdrawn, then even with the bond broken between us you undoubtedly would have sensed the depths of my anguish. I should be happy for you, for the two of you, as love in any form is all too rare in our lives. That you have found it with another Jedi--and in one as strong and knowledgeable as Maul--this is miracle enough without my interference. The Force guided both of you well; I cannot fault its course. I will be happy for you, Obi-Wan. I just can't do it right now, tonight.

We dream, and we need. But who am I to dare dream or to need you, Obi-Wan? I am old and tired--far more so than I realized before tonight. My life is all but over, while yours with Maul is just beginning. I dreamed... so much. And it's gone. All gone. As for why, there is no why. The days stretch before me now, for however much time the Force may leave me on this level. I do not look forward to the aloneness of those days, but there's nothing for that. It is the will of the Force, after all. If I've learned one thing from all of this, it's that I serve the Force. Alone, it seems. I had your bright Light in my life for thirteen brief years. I'm grateful for that, at least.

Glancing once more around the quarters, Qui-Gon knew that he could not bear to sleep again in them. Not yet. Setting his jaw, he was determined to ignore the silence of the rooms for as long as he was able. Could he depend on duty to command him for just awhile longer? Wasn't there something to be done before he could collapse, his reserves exhausted, so that dreamless sleep would claim him?

Maede... the healer....

Rising from the couch, he flicked on the datacomp, then punched in the healer's name. The roster showed Maede as being on-duty. Nodding satisfaction, Qui-Gon flicked off the screen, then retired to his room to retrieve a fresh change of clothes and another hair tie.

This late at night on a week-day, with all of the initiates, Masters and their Padawan abed, the healer's level was quiet and subdued. The droids whirred quietly about their duties, the lighting was set on low as no emergency commanded anyone's attention, and Maede stifled a yawn as she completed the check on her last patient.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep," she informed the recept-droid seated at the desk before the banks of elevators.

"As you wish, Healer Maede."

She was scuffing past the elevators when the doors opened and a tall man strode out. Both of them leaped back as he nearly mowed her down, their reflexes serving them well. She wasn't off-balance, but she felt a huge hand wrap itself around her arm nonetheless, then release her immediately as soon as she was completely steady again.

"I'm sorry... Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I still have all of my toes. How about you?" She glanced up at the newcomer, then found herself staring at him.

Gods, he's gorgeous, was her first, purely feminine thought before her professional instincts kicked in. She passed her hand in front of him, her gaze turning from appreciatory to clinical, and her healer's eye noticed telling details.

His eyes--intriguing light blue though they were--were shuttered, and the delicate skin beneath them appeared bruised as if he hadn't had enough sleep in quite a while. Deep lines of fatigue grooved his face, and his posture was slightly drooped as if he were too weary to hold himself upright. Not that it makes a difference, she thought. She was average height, but standing next to him made her feel petite indeed.

Exhaustion was her diagnosis, but rest healed that, so why was he there instead of in his quarters asleep?

"I don't sense any injuries..." A tiny frown crinkled her forehead as she waved her hand again, checking to see if she had missed something subtle, but the result was the same: he was tired, but otherwise fine. "This is an odd time to come by for a routine physical."

One corner of his mouth lifted marginally, but his eyes remained aloof. "No, I'm here to see Healer Maede."

Maede raised one eyebrow at him, then sketched a brief bow. "You've found her. What can I do for you--" She glanced at his robes, reaffirming his status in the Order by the color. "Master...?"

"Jinn. My name is Qui-Gon Jinn," he replied, returning her bow.

She nodded and clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her chin up so she could look him in the eyes as they spoke. "I'd heard you had returned, but I didn't know whether to believe the rumors or not."

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "As you can see, they're true. Now--if we could go someplace private and talk?"

"Certainly. My office is just down the hall."

Pivoting on her heel, she walked away, assuming he would follow, and he did, his long legs allowing him to catch and keep up with her shorter stride easily. The door slid open as she approached, and she waved him inside, then keyed the door for outer security so no one could walk in unannounced.

As she made her way to her desk, she saw him glancing around, taking in the details of the room with deceptive casualness. It was small--some might call it "cramped," but she preferred "compact"--but oddly enough, it was more indicative of her personality than her quarters were, probably because she spent far more time here. Her most treasured holo-portraits competed for space with mementos from what little traveling she had done, printed medical journals and a few books solely for pleasure. Datapads were more convenient, but she enjoyed the weight of a book in her hand as well.

Settling comfortably in her chair behind the desk, she braced her elbows on the arms of the chair and watched the Jedi Master as he seated himself in the opposing chair and hid his hands in his sleeves.

"What I am about to tell you must be held in strictest confidence," he began with no preamble, which didn't surprise her; he didn't seem to have much need for social niceties.

"Of course." She nodded agreement.

"In a few days' time, I will be embarking on a dangerous mission, but one that is of the utmost importance, not only to the Order but to the entire Republic as well," he stated.

From anyone else, she might have suspected over-dramatization, but she sensed that Master Jinn was telling the plain truth with no embellishment.

"One aspect of that mission will benefit greatly from a Healer's expertise. Your name was suggested by the two Knights with whom I will be sharing the duties of this mission."

This time, both eyebrows went up, and she leaned forward on her desk. "Oh, really. Who might these Knights be, and why did they name me?"

"Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and Knight Maul," he replied calmly, and she laughed.

"Well, that makes sense." She smiled warmly, not at the Jedi Master but at the thought of her two friends. "They ought to know all about my skills considering how often I have to patch them up."

"They indicated as much," he said, and then he shifted in his chair slightly, darting his gaze away from her before quickly bringing it back as if he belatedly realized he was betraying something. In this case, unease.

She watched him speculatively, wondering what had caused the reaction, especially since she remembered that the man had been Obi's Master before his alleged death. Unease wasn't something she would normally associate with a Master discussing his Padawan, even if that relationship was over.

"They're excellent warriors," she said casually, trying to draw him out a little if he would allow it. "I've been told you were the best before..." She paused, not quite certain how to phrase what she meant tactfully. "Before whatever happened to take you away from the Temple. Now the consensus seems to be that they are."

"Oh?" A simple word, a politely disinterested tone. But there was a gleam of hunger in his eyes that spoke of a need to hear more, to learn more about his apprentice during the years he lost.

"Yes." She leaned back again, willing to indulge him. "They've both been teaching classes, and their practice sessions draw crowds. Usually I just get to see the end results of the sparring, but I've gone a few times. Obi is beautiful to watch," she said quietly. "You taught him well, and he's not wasting any of the skills you gave him. He's honed them to a keen edge."

Master Jinn looked away again, and she thought she saw him swallow hard before turning back to face her. "Thank you." He fell silent again, and for a moment, she could see a war of emotion in his eyes. "Is he... Does he seem... happy?"

She hesitated, considering her words carefully, sensing that this was an important question. "He doesn't confide in me, but from what I've seen, yes, he seems to be. They both do."

The Jedi Master nodded tersely, and suddenly he was standing again, the cool, dispassionate mask back in place. "It's late. We can discuss the details of the mission at another time provided you are willing to accept it."

Rising to her feet, she followed him to the door. "What exactly does this mission entail? You haven't said."

He stopped, turned, and looked down at her, his countenance grim. "We're going to destroy the Sith stronghold on Naboo."

Maede's eyes widened as she took in that piece of information, a tiny ripple of fear shivering down her spine. This was indeed a dangerous mission, and she was a Healer, not a warrior. She wasn't trained for this kind of action. But they needed a Healer, and she was a Jedi above all else. Her duty was to protect, defend and heal; if that meant facing a Sith Lord on his own territory, so be it. She would serve.

"I'll go with you."

"Good."

And with that, he was gone.

Rising with the dawn, Qui-Gon knew that the few hours of sleep he'd managed to get after leaving Healer Maede were not nearly as many as he needed. But those hours had been deep and dreamless, which almost made up for it. Now, what he needed was a strong mug of tea and a kata.

Brewing the tea, he carried it with him to the main practice room and paused just inside the door to drink slowly, savoring it. It felt good to be among the familiar sights and sounds again--masters tormenting padawan in the numerous training wheels, shouts of triumph and frustrated effort punctuating the air, not to mention the smell of sweat-slicked bodies that were always reaching for perfection. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon grounded in that familiarity and let it soak into his soul. He needed this so badly.

Reveal your naked self and embrace your original nature, he remembered the Way of the Warrior, learned as an initiate. "Bind your self-interest and control your ambition; Forget your habits and simplify your affairs."

He needed nothing more than mental and emotional simplicity this moment, and knew of no better way to achieve it than to join those already at work. Shrugging out of his cloak, Qui-Gon bundled it up beside the mug, removed his tunics and boots. Wearing only his leggings, he padded onto the warm-up mat, dug his toes into the familiar spongeform, and allowed himself the faintest smile along with a low purr of contentment to have it beneath his feet again at long last. Closing his eyes, he moved automatically through the warm-up exercises. Twenty minutes later, he didn't bother to open his eyes before reaching out with the Force, sensing those surrounding him, and avoiding them all as he strode to the edge of the first Master's Wheel.

Head bowed, he considered for a moment. The Kata of Sage Experience, I think.

Thumbing his saber down to practice intensity, he ignited it and moved slowly, easing into the kata slowly. He stretched muscles that answered instantly, found rhythm and balance and comfort in the form and the philosophy behind the movements. "Experience is a riverbed, its source hidden, forever flowing: Its entrance, the root of the world, the Force moves within it: draw upon it; it will not run dry."

Root of the world... where is my own root now? He reached for the Force and wrapped it around himself like his own ancient, comfortable cloak, grounded within it.

I am Qui-Gon Jinn, complete, whispered the steps he took, one movement flowing into the next. I am complete because I do not serve myself. Place myself after and find myself before... Ignore my desire and find myself content.

He was a Master. Setting aside the shadows of his heart, Qui-Gon lost himself within the kata and reached for peace.

"Stay off of that ankle until...." A shimmer in the Force drew Healer Maede's gaze from her patient and across the practice room--no easy distance and no easy task since, usually, nothing distracted her while she tended a patient.

"Until?" the Padawan urged, with her Master hovering behind her.

"Until... tomorrow... night...." Gods, will you look at that? "You'll be fine. Just fine."

Rising, Maede squeezed the young girl's shoulder almost as an afterthought before leaving the Wheel and walking the perimeter of the room. She'd seen Masters perform kata before--times too numerous to count--but nothing like this. Nothing with an absolute serenity and confidence that Force-glowed like a beacon in the night to reach out, grab her, and demand her attention. Nothing, that is, except Master Jinn following the lines of the practice Wheel in one of the Experience katas. Oh, yes, she had seen Masters perform katas before. But this was a MASTER performing a kata.

Pausing on the edges of the mat, she felt her pulse quicken as she watched. Half closing her eyes, she looked with Force sense to watch the ebb and flow of the energy around him. The colors he wove were strong and clear to all who had Sense to see--there was nothing muddy, nothing dark about them.

So this is what’s within the man who taught Obi, she thought, having seen the same patterns in the young man's own katas. She'd also seen his lover's hunger as Maul watched his bondmate weave his own dance. "I want to dance like that," Maul's gaze had said. Only now did Maede understand the source of the knight's purity. And now Master Jinn has come back to Obi, to us. He wants me to serve with him, with them. I hope I can measure up.

So absorbed was she in watching the Master that she jumped, startled, when another knight joined him on the Wheel. Blue saber to green, Obi-Wan slipped seamlessly up beside his Master, who was still dancing with his eyes closed. Mirroring Qui-Gon's movements, the erstwhile Padawan followed flawlessly when the Master shifted from the Experience kata into another.

She glanced across at Maul when he came to stand beside her, folded his arms and watched with a critical eye. "I didn't see you two come in."

"You were too busy staring. You know we are here every morning."

"What kata are they doing now?"

"Retirement," he replied.

"I don't know that one," she hinted, hoping he'd share the koan accompanying it. Healers learned rudimentary offensive and defensive skills as did the warrior-diplomat Jedi, but different skills were needed in each field, and different strengths were emphasized; other than the most basic forms, katas weren’t part of training for Healers.

Maul obliged. "Fill a cup to its brim and it is easily spilled; temper a sword to its hardest and it is easily broken; amass the greatest treasure and it is easily stolen; claim credit and honor and you easily fall; retire once your purpose is achieved."

"Oh." With that news, gentle alarms began ringing in her healer's Force sense; she watched the kata all the more closely for it, trying to discern what it was trying to tell her.

The kata ended soon after that, and Maul watched with narrowed eyes when rather than allow his Master to retreat across the mat, Obi laid a hand on Qui-Gon's arm.

"Master, please..."

Maul was not able to hear what came after, but Qui-Gon seemed to be weighing his former Padawan's words long after Obi-Wan had stopped speaking. Finally, Qui-Gon nodded, stepped back into the Wheel, and ignited his saber as he assumed the first position.

Grinning, Obi-Wan circled Qui-Gon once before igniting his own blue blade and lunging without warning at the older man. Qui-Gon met the attack effortlessly, evading the saber and dropping to one knee to cut at Obi-Wan's legs. Flipping over Qui-Gon's head and landing safely behind him, Obi-Wan laughed as Maul had never heard him laugh before.

Spinning, Qui-Gon locked his saber hard against Obi-Wan's. Grinding against each other, the weapons sputtered and spit. A small Force shove, and Obi-Wan was reeling back, stumbling, and almost falling on the mat. Pacing before his student, Qui-Gon shook his head as if to say, 'Old trick; you should have seen it coming.'

"You're right, Master," Obi-Wan murmured in answer to the silent reprimand.

Standing ready, he waited while Qui-Gon continued pacing and refused to be drawn. In the end, it was Qui-Gon who continued the fight, lunging into an attack that was as feline as it was Jedi to beat back the knight in a series of slashes that had Obi-Wan dancing backward desperately. Obi-Wan gave as good as he got a moment later, turning the tables on Qui-Gon to send him on the defensive. Breaking off the encounter, Qui-Gon strode sideways to put a few feet between him and his former student before turning off his saber and bowing.

"Enough for this morning, Knight Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan bowed in return. "Thank you, Master."

Without another word, Qui-Gon turned and headed for the showers. Giving a low growl, Maul sprinted across the mat.

"I want to practice with you," he all but demanded, pushing himself to keep up with Qui-Gon's long legs.

The Master glanced down at him. "Now?"

"Yes, now." Maul nodded firmly.

Qui-Gon whirled and slashed viciously the next moment. His saber was a blur of green impossibly close to Maul's nose, but survival instincts honed at Sidious' side meant that Maul had his saber out and up to meet it. Barely. The adrenaline flooding his frame told him that the engagement had been far too close for his comfort.

Qui-Gon broke off the attack instantly, shifting his weight back on one leg, only to initiate the assault once more. Bearing down on Maul, he drove him into the nearest Master's Wheel in a series of unforgiving feints, lunges, and thrusts that had the knight hard-pressed to keep up. Even as Maul made to launch himself over the Master's head, Qui-Gon's longer reach made him abort the attempt as the older man slashed at his thighs when Maul tensed in preparation for the leap.

He tried twice more to use acrobatics much as he had on the sands of Tatooine, but Qui-Gon sensed the subtle shift in his opponent's balance that told him what the knight intended next. Tied to the earth for the first time in his experience, Maul found himself growing frustrated as he tried to puzzle out how he could change his strategy--and right now.

The Master's grim smile told Maul not to puzzle too long, as Qui-Gon was making good use of his superior reach and body mass to drive the smaller man out of the circle again and again. No matter what he tried, Qui-Gon was there to block him, confuse him, distract him. Other Jedi would probably have conceded the fight after being expelled three times from the Wheel, but not Maul. In the end, it was Qui-Gon who stepped out of the circle as Maul stepped back in, his chest heaving and lungs burning as he tried to suck air into them faster than they'd allow.

"Well fought, Knight Maul." With a bow and a smile that was more grimace than anything, Qui-Gon turned and headed toward his original destination.

Shutting off his saber, Maul stared after the Master as Obi-Wan stepped up beside him. "What was that?"

"That was my Master kicking your butt," came the cheerful response as Obi-Wan threw a companionable arm around Maul's shoulders.

Only a few feet away, Qui-Gon heard his former Padawan and noted the glee in the younger man's voice. Healer Maede's words came back to him then, from the night before: "I've been told you were the best before... Now, the consensus seems to be that they are."

Not yet, they're not, the Master thought as he walked away.

Breaking free from Obi's loose embrace, Maul sprang into motion again, once more catching up with Qui-Gon, who gave him a glance over his shoulder that clearly said, "What do you want now?"

"Teach me," Maul said, keeping pace with the Jedi Master, ignoring his own still-labored breathing; he wasn't about to let Qui-Gon get away so soon.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," came the terse response.

"Why not?" Failure had never been an option when he was apprenticed to Sidious, and some habits died hard.

Qui-Gon stopped in his tracks and stared down at Maul as if incredulous at his sheer persistence. "Do you understand the word 'no'?"

"Only if it suits me," he replied with complete honesty; if he had listened every time Obi had told him "no" in the early days of his life here at the Temple, they wouldn't be together now.

For a moment, something suspiciously like amusement flashed in the older man's eyes, but it was swiftly replaced by cool distance. "I will not teach you. Nor will I explain my reasons. They are none of your concern. Good day."

This time when Qui-Gon strode away, Maul didn't follow him, recognizing the right moment for a strategic retreat when he saw it. But as far as he was concerned, the negotiations weren't over as Qui-Gon obviously wanted them to be. Oh, no. They had only just begun.

Healer Maede paused outside the Council chamber entrance, ignoring the Knight standing guard for a moment as she drew in a deep breath and centered herself. As a general rule, Healers weren't summoned before the Council often, and since Council members weren't on active duty, unless some unexpected accident occurred around the Temple, they weren't seen in Med often either. Maede hadn't been to this chamber since her arrival on Coruscant a year ago, and that had been a mere formality, one of the brief, polite rituals one performed when transferring from one Temple to another.

She had been so nervous about being called in front of the legendary Master Yoda that she barely remembered the visit at all other than responding to the oath pledging her loyalty to this Temple and promising to serve faithfully and well. She also remembered heeding the advice she had been given: stay out of range of the gimer stick, just in case.

Now she was nervous, but for different reasons: she was taking part in the most dangerous mission in recent history. Out of all the Healers in the Temple, she had been asked simply because of her friendship with two of the Knights also involved with the mission. She knew she was a good Healer, and she didn't doubt her skills, but she also felt that only a complete idiot wouldn't face a mission like this without trepidation.

Smiling pleasantly at the Knight by the door, she stepped forward. "Healer Maede. I believe I'm expected."

Bowing, the Knight palmed the security panel, and the door slid open for her; she walked inside, glancing around and finding the room empty except for Master Jinn, Obi and Maul, Master Yoda and a dark-skinned man she thought she remembered was Master Mace Windu.

"Masters." She bowed, then smiled at the two younger Knights. "Nice to see the two of you when you're not bleeding."

Maul nodded, the only acknowledgment of her teasing she ever got; despite prolonged exposure to Obi's more demonstrative nature, he didn't laugh or smile easily. Perhaps he allowed himself the luxury of a smile when alone with Obi, but in public? So far, nothing.

Obi chuckled, but he seemed distracted, and she noticed he kept darting looks at Master Jinn, his expression ranging from bewildered to wistful. As for the Master himself, he appeared totally oblivious to his former apprentice's glances.

"Now that we're all here," Master Jinn began, clasping his hands behind his back as he stood in the center of the room; Masters Yoda and Windu were seated, but no one else was, and Maede wasn't about to take the liberty of sitting down uninvited. "We may begin discussing the details of this mission. Does anyone have any questions before we start?"

No one, it seemed, did. Nodding as if satisfied, Master Jinn continued, and Maede surreptitiously stepped off to one side, the better to watch the dynamics of this little group she was going to be assisting.

"As most of you know, I've spent the past two years tracking down the person we now know to be the Master Sith, Lord Sidious," Qui-Gon explained. "His current location is on the southern hemisphere of Naboo in what appears to be an extensive cloning facility. Despite the loss of his apprentice," he inclined his head briefly to Maul, "he has compensated not only by creating clones of Maul, but also by attempting to develop a standing army of clones."

"All of Maul?" Obi asked, and the Master shook his head.

"I thought perhaps they were, but having seen Maul's true face now, I know these troops are not him. I do not know who they are... or were. They are nearly mindless drones, programmed to guard and to kill, nothing more. But there are many of them," he added grimly. "The clones of Maul will probably form a smaller, more elite guard."

The two Council members sat, watched and listened, their auras calm and peaceful; if they harbored any qualms about this mission, they were hiding it well. Master Jinn seemed to be much as he had been the night before: somber and closed off.

She probed cautiously along the Force--and hit the thickest shields she'd ever encountered. Either he didn't want anything seeping out, or he didn't want anything getting in, or both. That, combined with his still-noticeable fatigue and the fact that he'd been isolated for the past two years, made her wonder if he was mentally and physically capable of handling this mission. Of course, he was also the only expert they had on Sidious at this point, so there was no one else who could take his place. She just hoped the strain wouldn't begin to take its toll on him at a crucial moment and place them all in danger as a result. She knew all about his reputation, but even legends had their breaking point, and she didn't know the man or what he had been through well enough to know how much longer he would be able to function under such duress as this mission would cause. It would only compound the stress he was already battling.

Meanwhile, Obi was hovering. That was the only word for it. He never took his eyes off his former Master, and those blue-green eyes were filled with worry and pain. He stood as close as he dared to Qui-Gon, appearing as if he wanted to touch him, to offer some kind of support, but the older man ignored him completely, which Maede found puzzling. From everything she'd heard from Obi, they had been close, and she thought it strange that Qui-Gon was behaving so coldly now. She would have chalked it up to him focusing on the mission to the exclusion of everything else except for the odd flashes she had sensed from him in her office. He cared, but for some reason, he wasn't allowing himself to show it. And it was hurting Obi deeply.

Glancing at Maul, she wound a curious tendril of Force-probing in his direction, only to find him nearly as shielded as Master Jinn. He stood there, his arms crossed, his expression completely blank, revealing nothing, but she sensed something just beneath the surface, something that told her he was no more pleased with the situation than either Obi or Master Jinn.

Watching the small group speculatively, she wondered if perhaps the Force were guiding her to participate in this mission for more reasons than one. Clearly these three had personal matters they needed to work out, and if they didn't, it could jeopardize not only the mission but their lives. Listening was as much a part of her job as healing; if she could coax them into talking to her, perhaps she could serve in that capacity as well. It certainly wouldn't hurt to try.

"I will guide Healer Maede inside the compound," Master Jinn was saying, and she forced herself to concentrate on his words again rather than the subtle tension she sensed all around her. "While Knights Kenobi and Maul place explosives around the perimeter. Once we have obtained the DNA evidence and safely exited, the explosives will be detonated to destroy the facilities."

"Simple to plan, yes. Difficult to execute," said Master Yoda, watching the group with what appeared to be concern in his green eyes. "May the Force be with you all."

"Thank you, Master." Qui-Gon bowed, and as he straightened, he glanced at Maede, meeting her gaze for the first time since she had entered the room.

She shivered, wishing she couldn't read the unspoken message in his eyes: "Let's hope it's enough." He'd been closed and inscrutable only moments before. I think I liked it better that way. Those blue eyes just told me that this is probably a suicide mission.

Cold fingers of fear danced down her spine as she followed the Master out of the room, with Maul and Obi-Wan falling into step behind her. Narrowing her eyes at his broad back, she thought, I'm committed to following you on this mission, Master, but I think you and I had best have a private little talk before it progresses too far.

"If there are no questions?" Qui-Gon asked again, and again was met with silence. "Then we will adjourn. Meet me in hangar three in the morning. We leave at daybreak."

Maul cradled a cup of tea in his hands and watched as Obi-Wan settled on the couch next to his Master; the heat from the delicate cup stung his palm, but he scarcely noticed, his attention focused on Obi and Qui-Gon. They had just returned from meeting with Masters Yoda and Windu and Healer Maede, but instead of returning to their own quarters, Obi had invited himself--and Maul--back to Master Jinn's.

Stepping back a pace or two, he silently retreated to the balcony where he could observe without being intrusive. He still didn't understand why he was there in the first place. It was clear that Obi had no interest in discussing the up-coming mission any further, and it was just as clear--at least to Maul--that his feelings for Qui-Gon had flared to life once more just as strongly as they had been before his Master's "death," if not stronger for having borne the pain of loss. So why he insisted that Maul accompany him to Qui-Gon's quarters every time he went was a mystery. Maul thought it would be far easier and more comfortable for Obi to flirt... or seduce... or whatever without his current lover loitering in the background.

The door-chime sounded, jostling him from his reverie, and he watched as Qui-Gon excused himself to answer the summons. When the door slid open, Maul was surprised to see Anakin standing there, a wide grin lighting up his young face.

"It's true!" the boy cried, launching himself at Qui-Gon and throwing his arms around the man's waist, clinging tightly. "You're alive!"

Qui-Gon laughed softly and returned Anakin's enthusiastic embrace. "Yes, I'm alive. The Council can't get rid of me no matter how hard they try."

"I'm so happy to see you," Anakin said, his eyes glowing with joy as he gazed up at the Jedi Master. "Where've you been? Why haven't you come back before now?"

Gently disengaging from Anakin's grasp, Qui-Gon returned to the couch. "Where I've been and why I've been gone so long is something I cannot discuss with you, Ani," he said, his voice and expression grave. "Perhaps later, when my next mission is completed, but not now."

Anakin remained standing in front of Qui-Gon, seeming dissatisfied with that answer but knowing he had no choice but to accept it. "Why didn't you tell me you weren't dead?"

"I couldn't tell anyone I wasn't dead, not even Obi-Wan," came the quiet but firm reply.

On the other side of the room, Maul sipped his tea and let his attention drift away from the conversation once it turned to polite questions about Anakin's training.

There was something... not quite right here. This was not the Qui-Gon Jinn he had heard about from Obi. Even taking away the natural tendency to exaggerate a loved one's memory, Maul had gotten from Obi the picture of a man who was private and reserved, yes, but also compassionate and affectionate in his own way. Other than the brief hug, Qui-Gon had not allowed any contact, and even though he was engaging Anakin in conversation, his demeanor said that he would rather be anywhere else.

It was the same demeanor he exhibited towards Obi as well. Maul didn't know to attribute it to Qui-Gon's lengthy absence and isolation or some sort of personal matter that arose after his return, but he knew this was not the behavior Obi was accustomed to seeing in his Master. Obi was perplexed; Maul could sense that along their bond. His Master's distance was confusing and hurting him, and he didn't know what to do to fix it, and so he kept hovering, hoping the walls would dissolve somehow.

Staring out over the Coruscant horizon, caught up in his own thoughts, Maul didn't sense Anakin's approach until he was almost beside him. At his questioning look, Anakin glanced at him and shrugged.

"He'd rather be talking to Obi-Wan," the boy said, but to his credit, his tone was matter-of-fact, not self-pitying. "I can tell."

I do not think he wishes to speak with any of us, Maul thought, but he didn't voice his opinion aloud.

"He is facing a dangerous mission," Maul said, in an attempt to help Anakin not take Qui-Gon's distance personally. "He has much on his mind at the moment."

"I know, it's just..." He broke off and released a sigh as he moved to the edge of the balcony and leaned against the rail. "I hoped it would be different when I found out he came back. I hoped..."

Maul stood still for a moment, wondering if he should encourage Anakin to speak his mind. He didn't know the boy very well; since the Council had transferred the responsibility for training him to Masters Yoda and Windu, Anakin hadn't visited Obi-Wan very often and vice versa. From what Obi had told him, Maul gathered that they had not bonded on any level during the brief time they were Master and Padawan, and Maul suspected the separation had been a relief to them both since they had served as painful, daily reminders of their mutual loss to one other.

But something--instinct, the Force, or both--was prompting him, and so he closed the distance between them and leaned on the rail next to Anakin. "You hoped what?"

There was a long silence, long enough for him to begin to think his offer of a listening ear was going to be rejected, but then Anakin spoke up once more.

"I hoped Master Qui-Gon would take me back," he said softly, so softly that Maul strained to catch the words. "No one really wants to train me. Not even him." He curled his fingers around the top bar of the rail until his knuckles turned white. "He said he would teach me, but then he took whatever mission that's kept him away from all of us instead. Obi-Wan didn't want me either, so Master Yoda and Master Windu took over, but they're not my Masters. I'm supposed to be a Padawan, but I'm the only one in the Temple without a Master."

Maul understood--all too well. Anakin was eleven now, on the brink of the age of awkwardness, and he was facing what appeared to be universal rejection and isolation as well. Having faced wide-spread ostracism when he first arrived at the Temple, Maul knew how painful it could be if one let it.

He hesitated, then reached out and placed his hand on Anakin's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "You came here during a time of great change and turbulence," he said, deciding a straight-forward answer would be appreciated over an empty platitude. "The Temple is facing its greatest threat from the Sith. Much of our activity now revolves around neutralizing that threat. Master Qui-Gon was not given a choice about his mission. He was given orders. Obi-Wan was too devastated by losing his own Master to be an effective Master for you."

Anakin shot him a startled glance, as if his blunt assessment of Obi's behavior was unexpected, but while Maul loved Obi, he was also realistic. Obi hadn't been any good to himself during that time of his life, much less to a Padawan, especially one who was unfamiliar with the Temple and the Jedi way of life.

"Master Yoda and Master Windu may not be the kind of Masters you wish for, but they are good teachers. Learn from them while you are with them," he continued. "You will find a Master of your own. Trust in the Force to lead you where you belong."

"You believe it will?" There was lingering doubt in Anakin's wide blue eyes, but Maul nodded.

"It led me here. It led me to Obi-Wan. I trust the will of the Force." He paused, then let the corner of his mouth lift in a small, wry smile. "It may not proceed at the pace you wish for, however."

That coaxed a laugh from Anakin. "In other words, be patient." His smile was genuine now, a glimmer of youthful mischief returning to it.

"Yes. As difficult as it may be, trust in the Force. Believe it will lead you where you are meant to be. It will not fail you."

"Okay. Thanks." Anakin nodded slowly, looking up at Maul with an expression that seemed to say the conversation had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise.

It wasn't until after Anakin had left and he was returning home with Obi that he realized it had been so for him as well.

Obi-Wan's determination grew as he watched his Master sitting quietly on a bench in the Garden of Harmonious Colors where he had retreated after suggesting--politely, gently but making his meaning quite clear--that Obi and Maul should leave him alone; he didn't know why Qui-Gon was drawing away from him, but he knew it was happening. He could sense it--and it hurt far worse than losing him on Naboo had done. He had wrestled with this dilemma the remainder of the afternoon, wanting to respect Qui-Gon's need for privacy, but only one option seemed right. He had to fix this somehow, and the only way to begin was by trying to get Qui-Gon to talk to him.

Tucking his hands inside his sleeves, he walked slowly towards the bench, giving Qui-Gon plenty of time to sense his approach, but it wasn't until he was almost there that his Master turned his head and looked up at him, and he felt a pang of loss. Had their bond not been severed, Qui-Gon would have sensed his presence long before. Worse, from the closed expression on his Master's face, Obi couldn't discount the possibility that Qui-Gon had been ignoring him in hopes that he would take the hint and not approach at all.

"Good evening, Master." He was careful to keep his tone respectful, not wanting to risk his Master shutting him out before the conversation even got started.

"Good evening, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice was calm and neutral; he could have been greeting a complete stranger, not his former apprentice. "How has your day gone?"

"Fairly well, but..." He paused, wondering if he should plunge right into the midst of things or try to ease into it tactfully. In the end, he decided to take the direct approach. "I'm a little concerned about something."

"Are you?" It was a polite question, showing no real interest, and Obi-Wan felt his hope flagging, but he nodded anyway.

"I sense something. I'm not sure what it is. An odd disturbance in the Force. There's something not quite right." Again, his diplomacy skills served him well. He knew if he blurted out that he thought there was something wrong with his Master, that would be the quickest way to end all discourse right then and there.

At last, Qui-Gon gestured for him to sit down, moving to one side of the bench so there was room for him on it as well, but he avoided Obi-Wan's gaze as he spoke.

"Have you meditated on your disturbance?"

"Yes, Master." He hesitated, staring silently at his Master's profile for a long moment before admitting, "It seems to be centered around you, but I can't quite figure out how."

"I am disturbing you?" Qui-Gon turned his full attention on him, and one elegant eyebrow rose, but otherwise, his expression didn't change.

"No," Obi-Wan explained patiently. "You are disturbed about or by something. There's a difference."

Again, the older man turned away, and when he spoke, he sounded remote, unreachable. "This mission has held--will hold--much to be disturbed about, Obi-Wan. I did not realize you could sense this. My apologies, I will correct it."

Obi-Wan grimaced, wanting to do something--anything--to break through the wall of ice he felt forming between himself and his Master. He wasn't supposed to hear this formal,. distant tone being directed at him. He had been the man's apprentice, yet he was being shut out like a mere stranger, and it hurt... oh, how it hurt...

"I don't think it has anything to do with the mission. That's not the feeling I'm getting," he said, almost harshly. The soft approach wasn't working, and he was beginning to feel desperate. If he had to be blunt, then so be it. He would find out why these damnable walls had been built and what he could do to topple them. "I think this is... personal. And I wish you would tell me what it is. What's disturbing you? I know there's something, because you're shutting me out, and I don't like it."

At that, his Master offered a small, crooked smile, but Obi-Wan didn't allow the sight to give him any hope; he probably sensed his former Padawan's agitation and was trying to placate him, and his next words only proved Obi-Wan's theory.

"I think we're both different people than we were two years ago," he said gently. "I'm not shutting you out. There's truly nothing left of my life to shut you out of."

That was an evasion if Obi-Wan had ever heard one; Qui-Gon knew all too well how to speak without saying anything--it was one of the more annoying traits he and Maul shared--and Obi-Wan knew he had to cut through the linguistic maze before it got too tangled.

"Have you stopped loving me? Have I done something wrong?" Perhaps direct questions would shock his Master into giving a direct answer; he certainly didn't have anything to lose by trying.

"You've done nothing wrong, and I will always love you. That will never change. It cannot. You were part of my life for thirteen years."

The words were kindly spoken, yet Obi-Wan saw the "but" jumping up and down and waving at him: "But you aren't any longer." It remained unspoken but hung between them nonetheless.

It was this moment more than any other that made Obi-Wan feel his loss most keenly. In the past, if he had asked his Master for reassurance, it would have been given, mostly likely accompanied by a smile, a gentle touch or a comforting hug. But now Qui-Gon sat with his arms wrapped around himself, not looking at him, keeping physical as well as emotional distance between them.

"Does it have to end now?" Obi-Wan asked softly, grief welling up inside him anew; he felt as if he were losing his Master all over again, but this time it would be worse. It was far easier losing him to death than to indifference.

Finally Qui-Gon reached out and touched him, skimming his fingertips behind Obi-Wan's ear where the Padawan braid had been attached. "You have another life now, Obi-Wan," he said softly, his voice tinged with something that sounded like regret. "The one you dreamed of having for a very long time. And with someone you love very much."

Catching Qui-Gon's hand, he cradled it in both of his own, then lightly traced the lines in that broad palm with his fingertip. "When I was a child, I looked to these hands to protect me." He was almost whispering, an ache constricting his chest and his throat as he longed for the past to fold on itself and take him back to those idyllic days. "When I grew up, I looked to them for support when I faltered in my path. I still need their support. I need you, Master."

"I'm here for you."

"No, you're not." Obi-Wan shook his head, his face cast in mournful lines. "You're here, but you're gone, too. I can't explain it. It just feels different."

A heavy silence fell between them, full of words unspoken and unrelenting pain. Finally, Qui-Gon sighed and pulled his hand free of Obi-Wan's grasp, wrapping his arms around himself again as if trying to protect himself somehow.

"When you were a child, we belonged together," he said at last. His deep voice was ragged around the edges, and when Obi-Wan looked at him, his eyes were sadder and older than his apprentice had ever seen them. "We were Master and Padawan, father and son. During the last years, we were friends, but I still saw you as my son. I could not have been prouder of you if you were my own flesh and blood. We...belonged. You've gone on with your life, and now you belong with another. I know the bond you share, and while I'm sure we'll serve together again, your life is to be shared with him. That's the way of it, the way it's meant for all of us."

He paused, glancing at Obi-Wan and mustering a slight smile that was probably meant to be reassuring. "I am happy for both of you. I honor what you share and cannot, will not intrude."

"You're not intruding!" the younger man exclaimed, growing frustrated with this cyclical conversation; either Qui-Gon wasn't hearing or wasn't understanding what he was trying to say. "I need both of you in my life in different ways. You said it yourself--we were father and son, and we can be again. Does any child truly outgrow his need for his parents?"

Again Qui-Gon sighed, and Obi-Wan could hear the melancholy resignation in it. "When you were younger, I used to visualize what our lives would be like after you were knighted. In my naiveté, folly, or ignorance, I confess that what I envisioned was pretty much the continuation of what we shared as Master and Padawan--without the lessons, of course."

"I had the same dreams, Master," he interrupted, eager to assure the older man that those dreams weren't foolish or unreciprocated. "I wanted to be your partner for the rest of my life. And then... Naboo."

The Master nodded slowly. "We are Jedi first. I obeyed the Council. And lost in more ways than one. And so it goes."

"You aren't the only one who lost. I did as well," he reminded his Master sharply.

"Without Naboo, you wouldn't have Maul," Qui-Gon countered gently. "You're meant to be with him. Not with me. I wanted our partnership to continue, but never told you. To tell a Padawan such a thing? Forbidden. It would take away too much choice, too many possibilities, impose too much pressure. Our lives have taken a very different turn. Your destiny is to partner with someone else. I cannot serve missions beyond this one with you, as you are partnered with another."

"I love Maul. I'm not surgically attached to him," he retorted, feeling his temper rise at Qui-Gon's stubborn refusal to see any possible options but the worst ones. "Why is it so impossible for you and I to be partners as we both wanted?"

"Because the bond works two ways, not three, in both Master-Apprentice relationships and in partnered missions. It's a matter of focus and commitment. Of absolutely no distractions. A three way split creates distractions. Besides," the Jedi Master fixed him with a stern look. "You may wish to discuss this with Maul before making decisions that affect him as much as they affect us. He may have an entirely different opinion about giving you up as a partner."

Obi-Wan digested this information silently, but understanding it and accepting it were two different matters, and he was certain there was a way to work things out so that all three of them would be happy--if he could just figure out what it was. Time. He needed time to think and plan. Meanwhile, at least there had been some small amount of open communication between himself and his Master. That was a comfort, and it gave him hope that their relationship wasn't irreparable.

"Well, I've made some progress, so that's better than nothing," he stated, rising to his feet and crossing his arms, a stubborn line forming between his brows. "The rest can wait for another time. This isn't over."

Qui-Gon stared at him in silence for a moment, a war of emotion flickering in his pale blue eyes before he spoke again. "You've become a bit more arrogant than I remember. And you presume a bit more than before. Delusions of knighthood, I'm sure." His tone was light, but the accompanying smile was tight and did not reach his eyes.

Obi-Wan bowed. "I had a good teacher." But he didn't want the conversation to end on a note of discord. Once again he reached out, resting his hand lightly on Qui-Gon's shoulder. "I grew up a lot while you were gone. Circumstances forced me to. Don't expect me to comply easily or quickly. Not when it comes to things that are important to me."

Qui-Gon appeared to relax his formal demeanor marginally and reached up to touch Obi-Wan's cheek. "I understand. And I returned to find a great many things changed. I cannot comply easily or quickly either. I'm still the Master who gave you the rock. Can you give me some time?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan caught Qui-Gon's hand and pressed it against his cheek, needing the reassuring contact more than he could ever express in mere words. "I can do that, Master."

He could--and would--do anything to keep his Master in his life. Maul was the man he wanted as his lover, Qui-Gon was the man he wanted as his father, and there was more than enough room in his heart for both of them. But for some reason, Qui-Gon felt as if he couldn't be included, and that was the problem Obi-Wan had to solve and quickly, before his Master drifted so far away that he would never be able to reach him again.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon rose smoothly to his feet and bowed. "Now if you will excuse me...?" He tucked his hands inside his sleeves and moved away at a more rapid pace than usual as if trying to avoid being called back.

But Obi-Wan knew there was no point in continuing the discussion now; they both had things to think about, and with any luck--and Force willing--they would reach the same conclusion: they belonged together as the formidable Jedi team they were meant to be.

When he returned to the quarters he shared with his bonded mate, Obi glanced around expectantly as soon as he walked inside, looking for Maul; he needed something--someone--comforting and stable now, and all he wanted to do was bask in his lover's quiet, peaceful aura for a while.

Maul was seated on the couch, but he noticed Obi's entrance immediately; he lifted his eyes from the datapad he was reading and put it aside, his expression neutral. "Was your discussion with Master Jinn successful?" His tone was bland, distant, and Obi stopped short before he reached the couch and stared at him, bewildered.

Instead of sending him reassurance along their bond, Maul was shielded from him almost as tightly as Qui-Gon, and he was acting just as remote! The two people he cared about most were shutting him out, and he didn't know why. It was more than he could stand at the moment.

Impulsively, he darted the rest of the way to the couch and gathered his lover in his arms, cradling Maul close; he could feel Maul's resistance, feel him trying to remain unyielding, but he simply tightened his grip and nestled his cheek against Maul's silky dark hair.

"You can't leave me, too," he whispered, opening wide his side of their bond, his fingers digging reflexively into Maul's back as he silently refused to let go of him--in any way. "I can't lose you as I've lost my Master."

Maul was quiet for what seemed to be an eternity, and when he finally spoke, his voice was strangely hesitant. "You... wish me to stay with you?"

"What kind of stupid question is that?" Obi demanded, staring at him in disbelief. "Of course I do!"

"It is not stupid," Maul replied, shaking his head. "You loved Master Jinn deeply once, and--"

"And you thought I still did and that I'd leave you for him," he interrupted with a weary sigh, and Maul nodded.

Well, at least that explained Maul's distance; he had simply been trying to protect himself from a blow he thought was coming. Considering their history, Obi felt remiss at not having figured it out for himself, but--he admitted sheepishly to himself--he had been preoccupied with his Master.

"Things have changed," he said, stroking Maul's back soothingly as he spoke. "For one thing, we're bonded. Or had you forgotten about that?" he added teasingly.

"Bonds can be broken," came the soft reply, but Obi shook his head firmly.

"Not this one. It was the will of the Force that led us to this bond, and I would never treat it lightly. But even if the Force hadn't brought us together," he continued quickly before Maul could voice any doubts, "I still love you." He ran his forefinger along Maul's jaw and chin, smiling affectionately. "I wouldn't take that lightly either."

Maul nodded as if accepting his words, but when he tilted his mate's chin up, Obi could still see doubt lingering in those dark blue eyes.

"What about Master Jinn?"

"I love him too," Obi replied. "But in a different way." He paused, collecting his thoughts as he tried to figure out how best to explain his feelings. "I grew up a lot during the two years he was gone. Dealing with the grief, coming to terms with you and what really happened, accepting you and our bond... it's brought about a lot of changes. In retrospect, I can see I was mistaking one kind of love for another."

Shifting to make himself more comfortable, Maul leaned against him and twined the fingers of one hand with Obi's. "What do you mean? What kind of love?"

"I thought I was in love with my Master," he explained. "You know that already. But really, it was an infatuation based on hero-worship. Qui-Gon is my mentor. I love him. I have always loved him, but I confused loving him with being in love with him. I know what being in love feels like now." He bent his head and brushed a kiss across Maul's temple. "Thanks to you."

"And what of Master Jinn?" Maul asked abruptly.

"What of him?"

"You did not tell me the results of your discussion."

"What results?" he retorted bitterly. "He seems convinced that my life is blissfully perfect without him in it, that I don't need him, that my whole life revolves around you, our bond and our partnership, and there's no room for him in it!"

Maul raised one eyebrow. "That is ridiculous."

"That's what I said! But he won't listen. He's determined to keep the walls up between us, and I don't know what more I can do." Once again, the pervading sense of loss welled up within him, and he blinked to stem the threatening sting of tears. He couldn't lose his Master again, he just couldn't. Thinking he had lost Qui-Gon to death was bad enough, but losing him to indifference? That was infinitely worse. He couldn't let it happen, but he didn't know how to stop it.

Pulling him close, Maul held him tightly, and Obi-Wan could feel the warm comfort flowing to him along their bond. Relaxing in his lover's arms, he was better able to let go of the pain and regain some of his optimism. There had to be a way to make Qui-Gon see the truth. He simply had to find it.

Propping himself up on one elbow, Maul gazed down at Obi-Wan, watching him as he slept. After admitting he was at a loss on how to deal with his stubborn Master, Obi hadn't wanted to talk about the matter any further; he had diverted Maul from asking anymore probing questions by kissing him, which eventually led them to their bed and to the end of any conversation.

Exhausted by emotion as well as exertion, Obi had quickly fallen asleep afterwards--surreptitiously helped by a little Force-nudge from his mate--but Maul remained awake, his mind too busy to allow his body to rest despite they were departing the Temple early. Instead, he had lain quietly with Obi in his arms and thought about the situation. He didn't understand why Qui-Gon was being so cold, and he didn't know the man well enough to guess. All he did know was that Master Jinn was hurting Obi, and that had to stop. Now.

Obi's words echoed in his head: "He seems convinced that my life is blissfully perfect without him in it, that I don't need him..." That was wrong. Very, very wrong. If Qui-Gon only knew how much Obi had suffered from losing him, if he knew how shattered his apprentice had been, then he would understand that Obi did still need him.

His eyes widened slightly as sudden inspiration struck. That was the problem. Master Jinn did not know. If he did, it might make a difference, and Maul knew of one way to make sure he found out the truth.

The halls of the Temple were all but empty, and Maul's footsteps echoed eerily along the corridors as he made his way to the Masters' tower where Qui-Gon resided. He had left Obi sleeping, smoothing his hand over Obi's red-gold hair even as he issued a gentle Force-suggestion through their bond that he remain deeply and dreamlessly asleep until Maul's return.

If Obi found out what he was planning, Maul knew he would pay for it. This could be construed as a betrayal of trust even though he had good intentions. But the thought didn't deter him. If it worked, then the potential consequences would be worth it.

To his surprise, Master Jinn answered the door chime after only one summons, and Maul wondered if perhaps the older man was having trouble sleeping as well. Ignoring the elegantly arched eyebrow that clearly asked "what are you doing here?", Maul held out a datadisk, meeting the man's gaze evenly.

"Read this."

Instinctively, Qui-Gon reached out to take it, then stared down at it, turning it over in his hands. "What is it?"

"Something you need to see." Maul crossed his arms and allowed himself the luxury of a glare. As much as he respected this man after what Obi had told him and after what he had seen and experienced for himself in the practice room that morning, he was not about to let Qui-Gon continue to hurt Obi-Wan, former Master or not. "These are Obi's and my journals from the first year or so after your disappearance." He didn't mention that these were edited versions, all references to Obi's sexual and romantic interest in Qui-Gon having been removed for the sake of not embarrassing Obi.

"Why do you think I need to read this?" The Master's tone was curious, not defensive.

"Because it will show you things you need to know. Perhaps it will prevent you from damaging your relationship with him anymore than you already have," he added, his tone almost scathing.

"I see..." Qui-Gon murmured, lowering his eyes to the disk once more.

"Read it or not as you please," Maul said, giving a short, barely polite bow. "Obi did not ask me to give it to you. He does not know that I have done so. That I have means I have risked shaking his trust in me. However I consider the risk worth it if in the end he is spared more pain at your hands."

With that parting shot, he turned sharply and strode away, not once looking back. If Qui-Gon refused to read the journal or refused to believe it once he had read it, then so be it. Maul would simply love Obi all the more. It would not be enough to make up for the loss of the man Obi considered his father, but perhaps it would help ease his grief.

But no matter what happened, Obi would still need him, and he would never leave his mate.

Never.

Two hours later, Qui-Gon stopped reading the interwoven journal accounts that Maul had given him. He stopped, not because he had reached the end of the files, but because the tears were coming so fast, he could no longer focus on the words. His hands shook badly, he could no longer hold the reader properly, and his heart was even more full of pain than before he'd begun reading the disk Maul had left.

Wrong... I've been so wrong in so many assumptions.

Pacing into the fresher for a towel, he wiped his eyes, yet knew the attempt to be a futile one as the tears refused to stop. Returning to the common room, he yanked open the drawer of his desk and rummaged impatiently through the scattered papers until he found what he wanted.

His fingers closed with vulnerable gratitude around a slender old-style pen, filled with liquid ink. Sorting through the desk drawers, he came up with a yellowed pad of parchment, purchased for an inconsequential number of credits in some outdoor market on some distant planet, while his Padawan had stood by, smiled indulgently, and asked, "Are you really going to use that, Master?"

This night, he was.

Regardless such relics were considered primitive and all but useless by the rest of humanity dwelling on Coruscant, Qui-Gon had long ago discovered that using a pen helped him to organize his thoughts when nothing else would. Settling on the couch, he uncapped relic and began to write, to reveal, to put it down in damning black and white.

"At the Council's order, Obi-Wan watched a clone of me die on Naboo and believed it was me. Six months later, he was still in mourning, feeling the loss every bit as sharply as the day it happened.

"Council knew this. Sensed the depth of his pain and saw that it interfered with Anakin's training. They were to blame for this and could have swept it all away simply by telling him that I lived. They could have comforted him, offered him hope and healing.

"They did not. Instead, they sent him to the Healers when they knew damn well knew what was wrong. And then--two months later, as he did not improve--they called him before them again and informed him that 'eight months is too long to indulge in excessive grief.' They removed Anakin from his care and relieved him of duty.

"As if this were not enough, they then told him to leave the Temple. For an entire month. They removed him from what should have been the comforting presence of his friends and fellow Jedi. They cast him out, caring not where he went or what he did, whether he lived or died in his grief.

"This is compassion? This is gentle, healing solution? This is a mockery of our code and everything the Jedi stand for. If we cannot care for our own, what good are we to one another, much less in service to the Force?

"They did not tell me of his troubles. They kept me blind, deaf and dumb to my Padawan's pain. I have served them with honor, given my entire life in their service. Obi-Wan has committed to do the same, and this is how they answer us?

"This is unbelievable. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.

"It never occurred to Yoda, to Mace, that my Obi-Wan was probably dying of an aloneness caused by our bond being shredded to bits--also at their express command? We were part of each other's lives, thoughts, and feelings for thirteen long years, and contented to be so. I knew his every breath as he knew mine. We were at peace in that knowing, learning of each other--him teaching me as much as I taught him. We served the Force well within our bonding, but in the end, Council's Quest for the Sith was more important to them than we were.

"Damn them to hell. And thank all of the tiny little gods that Maul was there to pick up the pieces, to distract Obi-Wan and focus him elsewhere, beyond his own pain.

"Ordering Obi-Wan from the Temple wasn't enough. They also removed him from my quarters--ripped him away from his home as completely as they ripped me away. My physical and mental absence wasn't enough: Obi-Wan apparently was to be made ashamed of wanting and needing his memories. Sweep it all away, as if we had never existed. But why? Why rip me from him so completely? Why take me from his life, his mind, his very soul? What did we do--either of us--to deserve this?"

Swiping away fresh tears, Qui-Gon glanced around the room. Obi-Wan had gone, but his journal said that he'd taken a few of his Master's things away with him.

What? Qui-Gon wondered. What did he take?

He was too upset, too scattered at the moment to sense what was missing. Perhaps, one day, he'd ask Obi-Wan himself. Until then, it was a comfort for him to know that his apprentice had wanted to take any portion of his Master away with him.

I assumed, so unfairly, that when I walked out, Maul walked in and Obi-Wan was happy. Just like that. Only now was the Master learning just how wrong that assumption had been.

Closing his eyes, he remembered all too well a journal entry of Maul's: "When last I saw him on Naboo, he was filled with energy and emotion. It radiated from him in an almost visible glow. That light is dimmed... Up close, I was better able to see the changes. He is thinner. Gaunt. His eyes are haunted."

"And so it wasn't love at first sight," Qui-Gon continued writing. "Hate at first sight is more likely... and for months to come. This, too, I misjudged."

It had been a long way home for both of them. Given the grief, the rage, the hurt and the pain Obi-Wan had suffered and for which he'd blamed Maul--however mistakenly--Qui-Gon felt it a miracle his former Padawan was sane at all, much less still of the Light.

"The only thing that saved Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon wrote, acknowledging the truth of it as the words flowed from his pen, "is the fact that Maul redirected his focus and helped determine a new reality for both of them--regardless of Obi-Wan's resistance."

Setting aside the parchment, Qui-Gon stared at the words. A shiver ran up his back as he realized that, were it not for Maul, Obi-Wan probably would not be alive. Spiraling deeper into depression, unwilling or unable to let go his grief, the young knight never would have pleased the Council, which meant that he would never have been returned to duty. No healing, no happy ending waited at the end of that road, and so it was that Qui-Gon could finally see how the Force had worked to bind the two wounded souls together.

For the first time, Qui-Gon understood how Obi-Wan had fought that binding to the point that the Force had simply taken matters into its own hands. The young knight hadn't chosen to bond with Maul: one night, while both knelt in meditation with Obi-Wan desperately seeking the peace that had eluded him for almost eighteen months, the Force had answered the knight's need by creating the beginnings of a bond.

Closing weary eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose, Qui-Gon considered. There is no doubt that the Force brought them together, and they love each other. Does Obi-Wan love me less because he loves Maul?

Taking up the pen, he wrote again. "His journey has not been easy. In many ways, it's been more difficult than my own. Given the strong, secure, confident man whom I met once more in the Council chamber, I never suspected that, for a year and a half, my Padawan was so miserable and so resistant to Maul, much less to the will of the Force. Yet the fact remains that he is lost to me."

There it was. The source of all his pain in one last sentence, scrawled across the page. No will of the Force could get around that one, no explanation offered by any journal in Maul's possession could change that.

His shoulders rounding, the Master gave a deep sigh. Gathering the pages he'd just written, he carried them into the small kitchen, retrieved a pan from the cupboard, and set the parchment to flame. The pages curled in on one another, burning bright green and blue, echoing twin lightsabers that had once fought alongside each other.

"...lost to me..." was the last to burn, the ink smearing into black before dissolving into dead ashes which Qui-Gon stirred until the embers flickered, then faded just as surely as his past with Obi-Wan had faded.

Lost....

He understood why Maul had wished him to read the entries. He regretted hurting Obi-Wan, regretted adding to a pain already made deep by far too many twists of fate and Force. He could behave more kindly toward his Padawan, and would. At the same time, Qui-Gon knew that the only way he could protect himself from the grief he himself felt at the prospect of watching Maul and Obi-Wan interact for the rest of his life was to keep intact his shields and his reserve.

Maul will not be pleased, he reflected, moving through the common area toward his own bed.

For some reason--one which Qui-Gon had no wish to look at very closely--this mattered a great deal to the Master.

Qui-Gon heard Healer Maede wish Obi-Wan a good morning, and Obi-Wan answer her quietly as they approached the austere, almost sinister and very compact ship where it sat in its berth. Completing his inspection of an exterior repulsion shield, Qui-Gon slammed closed the protective plate and stepped in front of the ship to welcome his team.

"Good morning, Master Jinn," Maede greeted him, pacing up the narrow railing as if she owned it. "I hope you slept well."

He hadn't time to answer before she disappeared inside the ship. Obi-Wan followed her, his blue eyes looking worried and the pucker between his eyes telling Qui-Gon that his former Padawan was far from at peace this day. On impulse, Qui-Gon reached out and hugged him.

"Good morning, Obi-Wan. I trust you're ready for our adventure?"

Obi-Wan stiffened in his embrace and didn't quite pull back. His startled look made Qui-Gon smile all the more.

"Have I really been so distant?" he murmured, for Obi-Wan's ears alone as Maul was slowly approaching behind them.

"Yes, Master. You have." The delivery was slow, the tone bewildered. Finally, Obi-Wan thought to hug his Master back. "And to answer your question, I think I'm as ready for this adventure as I was for the one on Naboo."

Backing away from Qui-Gon, the Knight cast him a look that said, all too clearly, 'I think you've lost your mind.' With a brief nod, Obi-Wan followed Maede up the gangway.

"Where did you get this ship?" Maul demanded without preamble or politeness, coming to stand beside Qui-Gon.

"When the Council and Obi-Wan were on their way back to Coruscant after my clone's funeral, I went to Naboo and got it."

"And you have been using it ever since?"

"Yes. It's a fine ship."

"I know. She is mine." With that, Maul all but sprinted up into the ship, with Qui-Gon only a beat behind him as the Master sensed the Jedi had something else in mind rather than stowing his baggage.

"Yours?" Qui-Gon called after Maul.

Slipping past Maede and Obi-Wan--who seemed to be discussing where to put their luggage--Maul continued down the narrow corridor and into the cockpit.

"Pardon me," Qui-Gon rumbled, squeezing between his former Padawan and the Healer.

"I failed twofold on Tatooine," Maul said almost conversationally, scarcely glancing over his shoulder when Qui-Gon came up behind him. "I failed to take Queen Amidala, and I failed to kill you. In partial punishment, Sidious took the Infiltrator away from me and gave it to my clone."

"Mine," he breathed, running his hands over the navicomputer much as Qui-Gon had seen Jawa run their hands over a particularly tasty bit of machinery.

The Master recognized love when he saw it. "Would you like to take her out?"

Maul made no reply and needed no further invitation. Sliding into the pilot's seat, he began punching buttons and commencing checks.

With a chuckle, Qui-Gon paced back to the common area only to find it empty, except for Maede's bag, which was sitting in the middle of the floor. Pacing down the corridor leading to the interrogation chambers, he ducked through the doorway into the first of only two cabins. Maede looked up at him, while Obi-Wan shoved his and Maul's bag into a narrow closet. Qui-Gon silently noted that it hadn't taken Obi-Wan long to claim this--the smaller cabin--as his and his mate's.

"Best strap yourselves in," Qui-Gon said neutrally. "We're about to leave."

"Did I hear right?" Obi-Wan ventured. "Maul's piloting?"

"It's the least I could allow him to do. He says she's his ship."

Turning on his heel, the Master didn't bother to wait for them to follow him. Picking up Maede's bag, he stowed it in a general storage compartment before returning to the bridge. Obi-Wan knew all too well the importance of being seated and strapped in before the jump to hyperspace was made: he didn't need nursemaided, and he assumed Maede was familiar with the necessary precautions as well. Best to return to the cockpit and see if Maul required Qui-Gon's assistance.

Strapping himself into the co-pilot's chair, Qui-Gon slid back from the controls and stretched out his legs. Keeping his hands off of the controls, he watched Maul. The Jedi Knight handled all of the details smoothly, his voice calm and low as he talked to the control towers, and his long-fingered hands moved with assurance and easy familiarity over the controls. It was the happiest Qui-Gon had ever seen Maul.

All too soon, the knight was pushing the final lever forward and sighing with contentment as the ship smoothly made the transition into hyperspace. Only then did he turn to regard Qui-Gon. Sheer gratitude reflected in Maul's shining blue eyes.

"Thank you."

"Thank you for giving me that disk," Qui-Gon returned quietly, being careful to keep his voice low, so that the others could not overhear. "I appreciate your pointing out how wrong my assumptions were."

Maul waited a moment, perhaps making certain Qui-Gon had finished speaking, before scowling slightly and challenging. "That is all you have to say?"

"Not at all," came the calm rejoinder. "I also wish to thank you for having been there for Obi-Wan. Without you, I doubt that he would still be alive. Thank you letting the Force guide you, even when Obi-Wan did not. And thank you for loving him, because the Council certainly did not."

Hearing the bitterness in Qui-Gon's voice, Maul arched an eyebrow in inquiry.

"I find myself wishing for a few choice words with Master Yoda and Mace Windu," the Master confessed. "I have always said the members of the Council have no heart. The way they treated Obi-Wan supports my opinion. They took the best among them and tried to destroy him. Would have destroyed him, were it not for you."

Bowing his head briefly, Maul acknowledged Qui-Gon's assessment.

"Should you ever meet with the Council to discuss this," he replied, a thread of steel twined around his voice, "I would appreciate an invitation."

Rising from the chair, Qui-Gon briefly laid a hand on Maul's shoulder. "You'll be the first one I call."

Maul allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as he watched the Master traverse the corridor leading back into the common area. Giving a sigh, he forced himself to relax, to release the tension he'd been carrying since delivering that disk to Qui-Gon's door. Perhaps, now, matters would smooth over between his Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

Seated around the small table in the common area, the team discussed the upcoming mission.

"We'll arrive at the southern hemisphere of Naboo late tomorrow morning," said Qui-Gon. "Sidious's fortress is guarded by clones, not mechanicals." He touched a panel to make a hidden laser project a pale blue hologram above the table: the Sith stronghold displayed in shimmering detail. "From what I can tell, the clones are not terribly intelligent, nor terribly fast.

"This ship is equipped with a cloaking device," he continued, and Maul nodded. "The plan is for us to use it and land as close to the main entrance as possible. The weather atop the ice butte is brutal; I don't want to be out in it any longer than is strictly necessary."

"Hide in plain sight?" Obi-Wan inserted, grinning at his Master.

Qui-Gon offered his own smile, reached out briefly to touch Obi-Wan's arm. "Just as we did on Rammai. Get in, get out, and avoid hypothermia and frostbite at all costs."

Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, his grin broadening. "Hey, it worked then. Ought to work now."

"It ought to, indeed."

Maede narrowed her eyes slightly at the Master. His attitude had changed since she had seen him in the Council chamber, but her instincts were telling her that the changes were exterior only. He's still shielding tightly. Who can tell what he's really feeling? I don't like this.

Obi-Wan seemed to be settling under Qui-Gon's new attitude, and even Maul appeared to be relaxing his guard while listening to the Master's plan. Maede herself had no doubts that the soft baritone could have charmed Silmerian slime devils in their sleep if Qui-Gon had wanted to, but Maede was having none of it.

It's just an act, she noted. Look... there. When he looks away, his eyes are still sad and shuttered. There's still some deep conflict and sadness in him, however much he seems to be fooling Obi and Maul. He's just not bothering to mask as much when he looks my way because he doesn't realize I can read him.

"We've therma-suits in the bins over there, as well as the necessary explosives and two remote detonators--one for each side of the fortress. I assume that the two of you know how to use such things?" The voice was amused, but Maede noted the tension in the Master's shoulders, the white knuckles of the fingers wrapped around the mug of tea.

"I do," Maul said quietly, meeting the Master's gaze. The underlying thought was plain: 'Please do not ask me how I know.'

Obi-Wan slid an arm across his mate's shoulders, offered a hug. "I've done my share of blowing up worlds, Maul," he admitted. "I'll be right there beside you, just like always."

The two exchanged a glance that immediately had Maede feeling more confident about the mission. Glancing at Qui-Gon, she noted that he was avoiding looking at the two men; his gaze was fixed solidly on the fortress hologram. If anything, his shoulders were even more tense than before as he leaned on the table.

Is he uncomfortable, watching their intimacy in action? Is that the problem? she wondered. That possibility deserves more thought.

"So while they plant the bombs, you and I are going inside the complex?" Maede prompted Qui-Gon before the other two Jedi noticed his distraction.

"Yes. I can get you into the cloning labs," he assured her, guiding the holo-rendering to cut out the exterior walls and show her the interior layout of the fortress, "but you must retrieve the genetic evidence required by the Council."

She nodded. "That won't be hard. It'll be refrigerated or frozen and very small. Probably the only thing that is."

"I'll cover you on the way in and out." The experience in his eyes told her that he'd done so many times; she didn't need to worry on that score.

Palming a hidden trigger, Qui-Gon made the table top slide back and down to reveal a collection of hand-held communicators. "We'll need these, as only Obi-Wan and Maul can hear each other without them."

He handed Maede hers. For a moment, she stared stupidly at the device, wondering what the Master meant. The next moment, it hit her. Obi and Maul are bonded, so of course they don't need communicators... Like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan used to be.

Snapping up her head, she stared at the Master, but it was far too late; the sad blue eyes were hooded and his expression was as inscrutable as the early morning she'd met him. No use reaching out through the Force to try and penetrate his shields, either. She had absolutely no doubt that if she did try, he'd sense it and backlash her with his own Force wave in a fervent demand for privacy.

And he'd have every right... normally, she granted. But not on this mission. I have to talk to him. For the sake of our safety, I have to find a way through those walls.

Obi-Wan stared at the communicator for a very long time, not really caring that his Master had moved on and was discussing another point about the upcoming infiltration. The young knight's fingers traced the device as memories flooded his mind.

/Master?.../
/Yes, Obi-Wan?/
/I can't walk. I think I've broken my ankle./
/I'll be right there, my Padawan./

. . .

/Master?/
/Yes, Obi-Wan?/
/The sky is very clear tonight and the meteorites are beautiful. I know that you're tired, but--/
/I'll be right there, my Padawan./

. . .

/Master?/
/It's too late./
/No..../
/I'm sorry I can't be there, my Padawan./

He jumped when Maul laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Obi, are you all right?"

No, I don't think I am, he answered through the bond he and Maul shared, blinking furiously and willing the tears filling his eyes not to fall.

It was no use. They fell anyway, splattering the communicator he held, and staining the bright metal. Raising his head, he locked gazes, not with Maul, but with Qui-Gon and bit back the sob that rose in his throat to see his own pain reflected back at him.

It's too much. Just... too much. Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

A long moment later, Qui-Gon spoke into the silence. "Could you leave us alone for a moment?"

As soon as the cabin door slid shut behind her, Maede turned to face Maul, poised to launch into a barrage of questions, but his behavior brought her up short. As he glided over to the small table on the other side of the room, he looked everywhere, seeming to take in every detail; once he reached the table, he skimmed his fingertips over the smooth surface, gazing down at it, his eyes seeming to be gazing inward.

"This was my cabin," he said at last, but she wasn't certain if he said it to offer an explanation to her or if he had spoken aloud without meaning to, lost in memories.

"Yours?" She didn't bother to conceal the surprise in her voice. "I thought the larger one was yours. It's your ship."

"Sidious claimed the larger one. He forbade me to enter it. Ever. Had I done so, he would have known, and punishment would have followed. Given that he never traveled on my ship, I assume it was simply a way of maintaining control over me even at a distance."

Clasping her arms, Maede shivered, not needing any further explanation. When she had walked in, she had barely spared a glance for the spartan accommodations, but now she looked around curiously; the small cabin possessed a narrow bunk, the table with a holo-viewer built in, an accompanying chair, a storage unit and not much else, and there were no personal effects whatsoever. This didn't surprise her; Maul didn't seem to collect stuff the way other people did. Not even Obi's influence had changed that. Speaking of whom...

"Maul, what's going on between Master Jinn and Obi?" she asked quietly. "I've sensed tension between them--between all of you--since the meeting yesterday morning."

The Knight faced her squarely and crossed his arms, his expression completely blank; Maul was being his most inscrutable, which she knew meant he wasn't going to give anything away with voice, face or words.

"There is some transitional difficulty in their relationship now that they are no longer Master and Padawan."

There's an understatement, Maede thought. Shaking her head, she frowned at the closed door, her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure. "Fine, I understand--you're not going to talk about it. But I hope they work it out, for all our sakes."

Unable to contain her agitation, she paced back and forth in tight circles.

"We're walking right into the most dangerous situation any--" She glanced at him. "Most of us have faced. Any of us having this kind of tension, being under this kind of emotional duress, could affect the mission. It could cost lives."

There was a flicker deep in Maul's eyes as he watched her, a bleakness that said he had thought of that possibility as well, but had no reassurances to offer.

Moving around the table, Qui-Gon settled closer to Obi-Wan, folded his arms, and leaned against him. "Do you want to talk?"

"Talk about what?" Obi-Wan said miserably. "The embarrassing fact that I'm sitting here crying like a 12-year-old initiate who's been rejected by all of the Masters and is about to be sent off to Agricorps?"

He glanced up briefly at the older man and gave a wry smile. I remember what that felt like.

Qui-Gon's stricken gaze told him that, bond or not, he'd caught the thought.

"We've already talked about it," Obi-Wan pointed out, "and you've made it clear that you want to go on shutting me out. You said that you dreamed of our serving missions together after I was knighted. Well, here we are, and you're right; I don't think it's going to work." He shook his head in misery. "The distance between us... It's just too much like going to Naboo the first time."

"You were traveling with a clone then, Obi-Wan."

"Doesn't make any difference." The young knight's tone was matter-of-fact rather than critical. "Your clone didn't take Anakin as his Padawan learner before the Council. You're the one who wouldn't heed their warnings that the boy was dangerous. I was upset with you before we ever boarded the queen's ship, and you're not a clone this time. This time, we're together, you're shutting me out, and I don't even know why. If you'd just tell me what I've done wrong--."

"As I said before, you've done nothing wrong."

"Then why are you punishing me, Master?"

"Punishing you?"

Obi-Wan nodded and dragged a hand across his eyes. "You said you needed time to adjust to the changes you came home to. You've had more time, and I can't see anything getting better between us. If nothing else, Naboo taught me that we can't afford distractions or distance on a mission. If your clone and I hadn't argued--"

"He was meant to die," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Nothing you could have said or done would have overridden that programming."

"Fine. Whatever." Obi-Wan shrugged. "That's off the track, and I want back on it. The point is that I feel even more upset going into this mission, than I did going to Naboo. The fact that we're headed back there isn't helping a bit. We need to resolve this, Master. Can't you just tell me which change is upsetting you the most? If you'd just talk to me, we could work this out."

Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon let it out slowly and stared at the table.

"I wish that you'd waited for me," he finally admitted.

Obi-Wan rocked back in his seat and stared at the older man. "You what? How the hell could I have waited for you when I didn't even know you were alive? I watched you die, Master--in my arms, begging me to train Anakin. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Why the hell didn't you tell me you were alive if you wanted me to wait for you?"

"The Council--"

"I know all about your precious Council," Obi-Wan snarled, his anger rising even as his Master regarded him calmly. "I've had my own raw experiences with them over the past couple of years, believe me. You've said that they ordered you, and you obeyed. But dammit, Qui-Gon! I've also seen you take great pride in disobeying their orders. Why the hell didn't you disobey them, then?"

From the set of Qui-Gon's jaw and the way he looked away, Obi-Wan knew that his answer would be silence. Not this time, damn you. Leaning against the Master's shoulder, he set his face so close to the other man's that he could feel Qui-Gon's accelerated breathing. So... not so calm with your shields and distance as you'd want me to believe, my Master.

"Would it have cost you so much, just to have gotten word to me--a hint, a sign, anything--that you were still alive?" Obi-Wan begged. "It wouldn't have taken very much. I was so far gone, I'd have grasped any straw in the storm."

Qui-Gon shut his eyes, as though doing so would shut out Obi-Wan's voice.

"I would have waited for you, gladly. But, given the circumstances and all of the time that's passed, even you have to admit that such a wish is unreasonable and unrealistic. Beyond that, it was impossible. What should I have waited for, Qui-Gon? Your Force ghost to appear at the foot of my bed and Council to decide that insanity had finally claimed Qui-Gon Jinn's apprentice?"

"No," the Master whispered.

Laying a hand across his Master's back, Obi-Wan tangled his fingers in the grey-streaked mane of hair and tugged slightly. "Out of everybody in your life, why couldn't you at least have told me? It's not the first time you would've disregarded a direct order."

Qui-Gon leaped out from behind the table so quickly, he lost several strands of hair to Obi-Wan's clutching fingers. Instinctive training kicked in and Obi-Wan leaped with him, reaching for his lightsaber automatically, regardless no threat was present. Qui-Gon stared at him from across the table, his blue eyes wide and hunted.

What the hell inspired that reaction? Obi-Wan wondered, locking his gaze into Qui-Gon's and reaching out with his Force-sense, trying to discern what his former Master was feeling. I just touched him. Only touched him.

A shudder ran through Qui-Gon before he ran his fingers through his hair and turned away. "Not this time, Obi-Wan."

"Why not?" Obi-Wan yelled, patience finally at an end as his Master retreated once more. "What was so damnably different about this mission that dictated that you lie to me and nearly destroy me by letting me believe you were dead?"

"Obi-Wan-"

"No, Master. Answer me. Just this once, Jedi to Jedi as an equal. Tell me the truth."

A glance over at Maul showed him looking as unperturbed as usual, but Maede couldn't pretend such aloofness. Nor could she pretend that she couldn't hear almost every word passing between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as their discussion grew more heated.

"Well..." she began lamely, folding her arms around her middle and looking desperately around the room for something to focus on other than the raised voices from the other side of the door. "This is... a really nice ship."

"Thank you."

"A bit... austere, though. Didn't Sidious allow you any comforts?"

"Most anything beyond the essentials of survival are forbidden to Sith apprentices."

"Ah."

Another awkward silence descended. Outside the cabin, Obi-Wan's voice was raised in anger, and Maul winced slightly.

"The bond?" Maede asked sympathetically, and he nodded.

"This is hurting him," he added quietly. "One would think his Master's return would be a joyful occasion, but it has caused Obi nothing but pain."

"I'm sorry." She hesitated, wondering if she should speak further.

Obi was the more open of this pair, while Maul was intensely private and reserved; she liked him, but at the same time, she didn't feel as if she knew him very well, and she didn't want to risk sounding pushy. But still...

"If there's anything I can do, just let me know," she told him. "I'd say it's all part of the job, but..." She lowered her lashes, suddenly shy of speaking her mind freely; there was no predicting how Maul would react, especially when it came to discussing emotional matters. "But I'd like to think of you and Obi as more than just patients. I'd like to think of you as friends."

"Healers are privy to the secrets of the mind as well as the body," he replied, his tone almost casual. "You are the only Healer we will allow to attend us. We trust you."

Maede let the implications of his words sink in, trying but not quite succeeding in hiding the small, pleased smile playing on her lips. It was about as close to an admission of friendship as she was going to hear from him, but it was more than enough. That they--Maul in particular--trusted her was a gift in and of itself, one that she would guard carefully and strive to remain worthy of.

"Thank you."

His only response was a polite bow. Silence fell between them once more, but it was no longer awkward.

"Tell me the truth, Master."

Tight-lipped silence met that request.

"Fine," the Knight said, coming around the table and stepping so close to the other man that he was practically standing on Qui-Gon's booted toes. Was it his imagination, or was fear reflected in his Master's eyes? "You won't talk to me, I'll talk to you. I'll tell you something that will make it impossible for you to keep shutting me out."

Tilting back his head, Obi-Wan looked Qui-Gon in the eye and drew a deep breath. "I had dreams too, Master. Did you know that? You know that I loved my Master. What you don't know, perhaps, is that I also wanted him. Wanted to make love to him."

Drawing himself up to his full height, Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes. Recognizing the action for what it was, Obi-Wan ignored the silent order, Master to Padawan, for this former Padawan to cease and desist the line of conversation.

Obi-Wan continued in an almost conversational tone. "For a very long time--even after being bonded to Maul--I wondered what it would have been like to have acted on that desire."

He was standing so close to Qui-Gon that he could feel the heat radiating off of him. Qui-Gon looked down that long, broken nose, his expression forbidding Obi-Wan to so much as lay a finger on him. Calmly, quietly, he spoke.

"You'll never know now, will you."

Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. He stared up at his former Master. "Wha..."

Inclining his head, the older man bowed slightly, regally, but never changed his expression. Nor did he call back his words.

"I... er...." Eyes narrowing, Obi-Wan stared up at Qui-Gon. The next minute, a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, Master! You can't expect me to believe...." Letting his voice trail off, he searched Qui-Gon's eyes almost desperately.

"No..." Obi-Wan said softly, still uncertain. And then, with an arched eyebrow and a crooked grin, he repeated, "No?"

Obi-Wan's tentative bewilderment slipped past Qui-Gon's shields as no other reaction could have. His mouth twitched, his eyes crinkled at their corners, and the next moment he was laughing--a true, honest laugh, the likes of which Obi-Wan had not heard for over two years. The Knight grinned broadly when his Master grabbed him into a bear hug that had all of the warmth and love and power he'd been missing.

That's more like it! he sang inside. When my Master hugs me--really hugs me--I know it.

"I love you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon rumbled against him, "but not in that way, my Padawan."

"Hey, I love you, too, but that didn't stop me from--"

"You had the same youthful fantasies all Padawan have about their Masters."

"Yeah, well... You could at least act surprised or flattered."

"What makes you think I'm not?"

The inscrutable mask was back. Groaning, Obi-Wan shook his head. "You're not. You're just... accepting this, letting it flow over you."

Nodding, Qui-Gon slid a hand down Obi-Wan's hair in gentle affection. "I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused you. I misunderstood about you and Maul. I jumped to conclusions and thought that you passed some brief, insubstantial period of mourning before inviting him into your life."

"It wasn't like that at all!"

Qui-Gon nodded. "I understand this now. You love him as well as me. We each have our place in your life."

Obi-Wan searched his Master's face. "And what place do I have in yours?"

"That's entirely up to you."

The young Knight sighed. "You're doing it again. You're shutting me out."

"How?"

"You're concentrating on what I need, and you're not telling me what you need."

Silence met that observation.

"Oh. Wait," Obi-Wan continued. "I remember now. You think that what you need is impossible. You'd rather stand there, in pain, than tell me what you're really feeling and needing and let me give it to you."

The sadness in the blue eyes skirting Obi-Wan's gaze told him that he was being far too perceptive for Qui-Gon's comfort.

"That's it, isn't it?" Obi-Wan said softly, stepping closer.

Reflexively, Qui-Gon stepped back. When Obi-Wan reached out a hand, the older man flinched and wrapped his arms around himself.

He did that in the garden, too, when we talked, Obi-Wan realized with a shock. My touching him hurts him.

For a moment, the two stood staring at each other, until Obi-Wan nodded his understanding and stepped back to give his Master the physical room to match the emotional room he needed.

"Why, Master?" he whispered, folding his arms to mirror Qui-Gon. "You want to be in my life, but won't let me in yours, and you certainly won't let me drag you into mine. So where does that leave us? You won't let me in--except to demolish this Sith fortress with Maul's help. Forget your pain, and do my duty. Is that it?"

A slight nod of the head.

Sighing, Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, knowing it was the best he could hope for. "All right, Master. Have it your way." Turning on his heel, the Knight left his Master to stride down the short corridor and rap lightly on the cabin door. "We're finished. You two can come out now."

"Hey! You're cheating! That's neutral territory--you can't put an army there," Obi-Wan protested, pointing at a little splotch of pink on the board.

The young Knight was so wrapped up in his indignation that he didn't notice Qui-Gon appear in the doorway, and the Master took advantage of the moment simply to observe.

After their conversation, Maul had returned to the cockpit, and Obi-Wan had followed; even at a distance, Qui-Gon had felt the hum of the Force along their bond, and he knew they were in deep conversation. Healer Maede had shot him a sympathetic look, but he had turned away from her, retreating to one of the interrogation chambers to meditate--after having Force-cleansed it first. He didn't care to contemplate the horrors Maul must have implemented in the room; that was another lifetime, another man. But the negative aura permeating the room would be oppressive to any Jedi, especially a Master, and he had done what was needed to make it habitable again.

When he finally emerged, it was evening, and he found the two Knights involved in a strategy game while the Healer watched, seeming to find the game highly entertaining even though she wasn't participating herself. Or perhaps, he thought after watching silently himself for a few minutes, it wasn't so much the game as Obi-Wan and Maul's interaction during it.

Across the table, Maul leaned back in his chair and smiled slightly. "I did not cheat. That land was annexed to the territory I won in the last round." Obi-Wan sat back, apparently mollified by the explanation--until Maul had to push his luck by adding, "I have no need to cheat. I always win this game."

A stubborn frown formed between Obi-Wan's brows, and Qui-Gon knew that had been the wrong thing for Maul to say.

"You always win because you always cheat," he grumbled. "Maybe if we had more people in the game, you'd play fair."

Maul spread his hands and shrugged. "We have two people available now."

"One," Obi-Wan argued, tilting his head towards Maede.

"Two," Maul corrected, pointing at Qui-Gon, who pushed himself away from the doorframe and stood up straight, surprised that Maul had known he was there when he didn't appear to have noticed him at all. "Will you join us?" he asked politely.

"Yes, please do," Obi-Wan seconded the invitation. "You can be Maul's partner. I trust you to keep him from cheating," he added with a teasing grin.

Qui-Gon glanced at Maul to gauge his reaction to the idea of being thrown together with Obi-Wan's former Master rather than Obi-Wan himself, but Maul simply made room on his side of the table, revealing nothing that would indicate he was displeased by the arrangement. Obi-Wan beckoned to Maede, who took a place beside him.

"I'm not trained for battle, remember?" she said with a teasing smile. "Don't expect brilliant strategy, all right?"

"It'll be fine," Obi-Wan assured her. "I know what I'm doing."

Fifteen minutes later, the game was over.

After one brief conversation consisting of Qui-Gon suggesting a consolidation of troops and Maul agreeing, the pair had worked in silent unity to successful ends, unlike Obi-Wan and Maede, who had constantly conferred and still made the wrong moves. Qui-Gon had moved Maul's army forward to attack Obi-Wan's strongest territory, the one which would lose all the others for him if it were taken; Maul had been remarkably synchronized with him, seeming to know instinctively to flank on Obi-Wan's left in order to cut him off from retreat. Maede split her troops off in an ill-fated attempt to protect Obi-Wan's forces, but it only allowed the other team to divide and conquer them both.

As Obi-Wan sputtered and Maede smiled wryly at her own lack of strategy skills, Qui-Gon and Maul exchanged a knowing look.

"Far too easy," Qui-Gon said--and was surprised to hear the same words from Maul at the same time.

Abandoning his indignation at having been so thoroughly trounced, Obi-Wan leaned his elbows on the table and peered at the two Jedi across from him, eyeing them speculatively. "You know..." he began slowly, "I'm beginning to realize just how much alike you two are."

They made identical scoffing noises that caused Obi-Wan to grin at them. "Want me to prove it?" he challenged, and Qui-Gon nodded, finding himself curious about what traits his Padawan could possibly think he shared with Maul.

"All right." The young man leaned back in the chair, propped his ankle on his knee and started ticking off points on his fingers. "You're both quiet, uninclined to engage in small talk unless you have to. You don't say much unless you've got something significant to say, and when you do speak, it's a good idea to listen."

Qui-Gon sat up straight and crossed his arms, listening, but not commenting. A lot of people were quiet, after all...

"You're both reserved, especially in crowds and around people you don't know. You're good diplomats because you're careful about what you say and how you say it, but..." He paused and gave them both an apologetic look, "and this isn't meant as an insult, but it doesn't necessarily mean you enjoy being around people. You're both fine with being alone. I'd go so far to say that you're happy when you're alone--as long as it doesn't mean you're lonely as well," he added with a pointed look at Qui-Gon, who stared at him blandly in return. "You have a few select people you enjoy being around, and the rest you can take or leave, mostly leave."

"Anything else?" Qui-Gon asked dryly, but Obi-Wan ignored the sarcasm and nodded.

"As a matter of fact, there is," he replied calmly. "You're both highly trained and highly skilled fighters, but you also have a strong scholarly interest. Master, you like literature and philosophy, and Maul, you like history and philosophy. You're both loyal, honorable--do I need to go on?" he asked with a devilish smile.

"Your point is taken, Obi-Wan," he said, raising one eyebrow, and for some reason, this caused Maede to burst out laughing, and then she leaned over and touched Obi-Wan's arm.

"You realize, of course, this means you bonded with someone exactly like your Master," she teased, but he simply gave Qui-Gon an enigmatic smile.

"Not surprising," he murmured.

"And you two--" She shook her head and laughed again. "Will you look at yourselves? What is that, a pose you learned in warrior school? Intimidation Tactics 101?"

Qui-Gon glanced at Maul and abruptly realized that the Knight was sitting in exactly the same way as he was: ramrod straight, arms folded, expressions carefully neutral and one eyebrow lifted. He wasn't sure if it was the irony or the absurdity of the situation that amused him more, but he allowed one corner of his mouth to curl in an acknowledging smile.

"In that case," Maul said, reaching for the game pieces again, "does anyone dare a rematch?"

Rising gracefully, Qui-Gon bowed. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. It's getting late, and I for one could use extra rest."

"A good idea," Obi-Wan replied, but he was looking at Maul when he said it in a way that clearly showed how aware he was that these could be their last moments together, and he didn't intend to waste them.

A puzzled frown creasing her forehead, Maede glanced around the common area. "Where's my bag?"

Striding to the storage compartment where he had stowed her small piece of luggage, Qui-Gon retrieved it and handed it to her. "You're welcome to share the larger cabin with me," he invited politely. "Otherwise, you'll have no choice but to sleep out here, and I don't think any of the furniture is conducive to a good night's rest."

Shouldering her bag, she nodded somberly. "Thank you. I appreciate it. I'll be along in a moment."

"As you wish," he replied and retreated to the cabin without another word or backwards glance; he didn't want to see Obi-Wan and Maul leave together, didn't want to be confronted with any signs of their closeness, didn't want to think about how they would spend the night surrounded by peacefulness and love while he spent it alone.

No, not alone. He would be in the same room as Maede, a stranger. Not alone, then, but... lonely.

When Maede entered the cabin, the lights were already lowered, but not entirely off--a small consideration that she noticed and appreciated--and the reserved Jedi Master was already stretched out, trying to sleep.

On the floor.

He was lying near the bed, wrapped up in his outer robe, and as soon as she spotted him, she braced her fists on her hips, frowning.

"I think not," she said firmly, and he cracked one blue eye open just enough to peer at her.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're not sleeping on the floor," she told him matter-of-factly, and he closed his eye again, obviously prepared to ignore her.

"It's a small bed. I don't want to intrude on your space, considering we just met."

You mean you don't want me intruding on your space, she thought. "Fine," she replied aloud. "I'll take the floor, and you take the bed."

"No."

"Then we share."

Something in her tone must have alerted him that she wasn't going to give up or give in, and he slowly raised up to sit cross-legged, watching her warily. "Why are you being so insistent about this?"

"Because you're the leader of this mission," she stated flatly. "And you haven't been resting well. Maybe Obi and Maul can't see it, but I can--the signs of fatigue are all over you. Of all of us, you need to be well-rested and alert, and sleeping on the floor isn't going to accomplish that, so..." She spread her hands and shrugged. "Either you take the bed alone, or we share. Healer's orders."

It was hardly the first time she'd had to put her foot down with a recalcitrant patient; Jedi were far worse than most civilians when it came to their health. Since most of them possessed at least a little bit of healing ability, they thought they were immune to the need to rest and give their wounded, battered bodies time to recover. Staring down irate Jedi who insisted they were perfectly fine and cowing them into getting back into bed was one of the skills she'd had to develop out of necessity early in her career, and it served her well now.

"Fine." His voice was cold and clipped, letting her know without any attempt at politeness that he was displeased with her.

But she didn't waver, not even when he stood up and loomed over her, scowling; she simply watched him fold his outer robe and hang it over a chair. Beneath, he was wearing only his under-tunic and leggings. With an icy bow, he gestured for her to precede him into bed.

"You first." Maede gazed at the Jedi Master, wearing her no-nonsense Healer's face, which consisted of a mouth thinned into a firm line of displeasure, a stern brow and eyes that said quite clearly the mind behind them wasn't bluffing when it came to invoking a Healer's right to give even Jedi Masters orders if it was in the best interests of a mission.

He mirrored her stance in a show of stubborn meeting stubborn. "Why should it matter that I get in bed first?"

"Because if you're next to the wall, there's no chance of you attempting to ease onto the floor without waking me up," she replied with annoying pragmatism.

He opened his mouth, then shut it again and nodded tersely; he didn't look at all pleased as he slid under the covers, turning to lie with his back to her.

Still closing off, she thought as she watched him get settled. But there's no getting through unless he wants someone to get through.

With a quiet sigh, she began to undress, removing and discarding layers until she was also wearing only her undertunic and leggings. Climbing in beside Qui-Gon, she lay on her side facing the room, giving him the privacy his body language said he wanted. He was a big man, and she had to give him a lot of space, as well. Closing her eyes, she nestled into the pillow and tried hard not to end up snugged up next to him in the crevasse his weight created in the mattress. Even though she had rested well the night before and wasn't particularly tired, she knew she could lull herself to sleep easily.

Thirty minutes later, she was still wide-awake thanks to the tension radiating from her bed-partner. As still and quiet as he lay, Qui-Gon was no more asleep than she was; whatever inner demons had been plaguing him were apparently disturbing his rest as well, and she wondered how long it had been going on. But it couldn't continue. Master Jinn needed to be functioning at full capacity, not suffering the mental and physical effects of sleep deprivation.

Rolling over onto her other side, she placed her hand between his shoulderblades, rubbing his back in small, slow circles. The muscles were hard--harder than they should have been.

"Relax..." She added an undertone of Force-suggestion to her words, hoping to help him enough that he could sleep. "It's all right."

"No, it isn't, really," he replied, and the immediate hunching of his shoulders told her the words had escaped him unbidden.

Experience had taught her that there were some people who, if questioned and prodded, opened up like a flower in bloom. Others, however, responded to questioning, no matter how subtle or non-intrusive, by slamming everything within them shut. Maede suspected that Master Jinn was one of the latter, and so she remained quiet, simply continuing to rub his back, no matter how much she wanted to follow through on his inadvertent admission.

Adding a bit of Force-warmth and relaxing energy to her touch, she massaged the tight back and shoulders as best she could with only one hand. Gradually, she felt the tension begin to ease--and with it, his shields. She wasn't sure if he were aware of it or not, but the more he relaxed, the thinner his shields became, and at this proximity, she could feel the leaks beginning to trickle out.

"Thank you," he said gruffly, almost grudgingly.

"Thank you for letting me help." She paused, then added softly, "I get the feeling you don't allow that very often."

He laughed, but there was no amusement in it. "No, I don't, and that's probably one reason I'm in this damned mess to begin with."

He fell silent, and she began to think he wasn't going to speak again when suddenly he did, his words full of raw pain.

"If I'd just broken the rules one more time and asked Obi-Wan for help on my last mission..."

"Why didn't you?" She kept her voice quiet, her tone neutral--her professional soothing voice, the one that had carried her through many painful conversations before.

"I thought I was keeping him safe."

Just as he thinks he's keeping himself safe by shielding, by closing everyone out, by keeping his back turned literally and figuratively, she realized.

Letting her instincts guide her, Maede shifted closer until she could wrap her arms around him, hoping the contact would help somehow. If he felt safer and more comfortable not looking directly at her while speaking of such painful matters, she could understand that, but hopefully he wouldn't push her away physically as well.

He didn't. But in her desire to help, she had overlooked one problem: while warrior-diplomat Jedi had quicker reflexes, healer Jedi had higher empathy, and being in such close contact with him made the trickle of leaks turn to a flood. She felt his pain as if it were her own, and it was enough to almost make her gasp aloud with the sharp intensity. Loss... overwhelming loss... and loneliness...

"And in keeping him safe from Sidious, you lost him," she whispered.

Maede knew that Obi-Wan wasn't really lost--the young Knight was sleeping just across the corridor, as devoted as ever to his former Master. Qui-Gon had only to ask or reach out a hand, and Maede knew Obi-Wan would be there at his side.

Maul would be right there with him, as well, she reflected, but I doubt that information would be welcome right now. She sensed that any arguments offered in that direction would only result in Qui-Gon slamming up his shields once more. If she was to do any good at all, she had to acknowledge his pain--however unrealistic she thought it was--and be with him in it.

Qui-Gon nodded mutely.

"Our bond is gone... so much time is gone... I've lost so much." His tone was mournful, but not self-pitying. "I was a fool. I thought things would stay exactly as I left them, and I could just pick up where I left off when I returned."

Maede felt his self-derision like a keen knife blade slicing through his grief, and she tightened her arms around as much of him as she could, letting him speak without interruption for as long as he needed.

"Instead, I found Obi-Wan happily bonded to someone else, going on with his life as if I hadn't even been in it."

She wanted to protest, to tell him that's not how it was, but his next words assured her that he knew that even if he didn't entirely believe it yet.

"But appearances are deceiving. Maul... informed me of how devastated Obi-Wan was for so long, but..."

He broke off, and she could feel him beginning to tense up again.

"But that doesn't change the fact that there's no room for me in his life anymore. Maul is everything to him now, and I'm nothing."

It was then she felt another layer twining around the loneliness--Qui-Gon felt as if he had been replaced. Rightly or wrongly, he felt as if Maul had come into Obi's life and become everything to him, leaving nothing left for his former Master.

"You were his Master," she replied, stroking his back soothingly. "Maul is Obi's friend, his lover and his partner, but he could not--could never be Obi's Master. That special place is yours alone."

"He doesn't need a Master anymore," came the bitter retort. "And as you've pointed out, Maul is his friend, lover, partner. That covers all of Obi-Wan's needs, wouldn't you say? I've outlived my usefulness."

"He loves you. You don't have to be useful. And he's allowed to have more than one friend."

"He loves Maul. Maul gives him everything he needs."

"Are you sure? Does that mean he can't love you as well?" She hesitated, then dared to ask, "Or is it that Obi-Wan can't love you the way you want him to because of Maul?"

There was a prolonged silence, and she wondered if her question had caused him to close off again.

"If you're asking if I'm in love with my former apprentice, and am I jealous of his relationship with Maul, the answer is no," he said at last, and there was an undercurrent of amusement in his tone that reassured her that she hadn't pushed too much.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want things to be as we planned them. I want to go on missions with Obi-Wan, to share his life. I want to be given more than just a few crumbs now and then when he can spare them."

"Why do you think you can't?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

From what she could tell, Obi also missed the closeness he and his Master had shared. If Master Jinn would simply tell his former Padawan how he felt, surely the two of them could come to some sort of understanding.

With an exasperated sigh, Qui-Gon twisted so that he lay facing her, probably so he could give her the full benefit of his 'I can't believe you just asked me such an idiotic question' look. But Maede simply gave him a level look in return and waited for his response.

"Obi-Wan has a partner. Maul. Or had you forgotten?" He bit out the words, the first hint of hauteur returning to his voice since the conversation had begun.

"Of course I hadn't forgotten," she replied calmly. "But does that mean you can't be in Obi's life anymore?"

He closed his eyes wearily, his face suddenly showing the strain of everything he had endured over the past two days. "You don't understand."

"No," she conceded. Impulsively, she rested her hand against his cheek, feeling the soft prickle of his beard on her palm. "But you could explain it to me."

For a moment--and only for a moment--she felt him lean into her touch and let down his guard. For a moment, he was a man, vulnerable and in need, and not a legend. The next moment, he gathered his dignity and his reserve around him again, and she could feel his withdrawal.

"Another time, perhaps. We both need to rest."

She nodded, respecting his need to fall back into his Mission Leader role; it was safe, after all, and he had apparently gotten very good at protecting himself. "All right, but the offer stands."

Withdrawing her touch, she released him, curled her hands beneath her chin and nestled into her pillow again. Closing her eyes, she let him know that she wasn't going to push.

After a moment, she heard him release a long, soft sigh, and his weight made the bed move slightly as he settled down again. But this time, he didn't keep his back to her.

Maede woke slowly, surrounded by warmth, and she burrowed closer to the source, reluctant to wake up; wherever she was, it felt safe and comforting and--

Her eyes flew open as memories of the night before flooded her mind, and she found herself snuggled up close to Qui-Gon Jinn, her nose pleasantly nestled against the base of his throat, right at that hollow she'd always thought of as a particularly alluring bit of male anatomy. Not only was she breathing in the warm scent of his skin, but she was also in his arms.

At some point in the night, he had reached for her, and as a result, they were quite thoroughly entwined; his arms circled her protectively, her arms surrounded him as well, and their legs were tangled in a way that angled her body into full contact with his.

Mmm... Good morning to me, she thought with a silent purr of contentment, in even less of a hurry than when she first awoke to extricate herself and leave the bed.

Qui-Gon's breathing was still deep and even, and he didn't stir, even when she began stroking his back slowly, soothingly. He was still asleep, and she intended to help him remain that way for as long as possible; after their discussion the night before, it hadn't taken him long to drift off, and she had watched over him, ready to give him a nudge into deeper, healing sleep if needed, but he had done it naturally--a good sign. That he was still soundly asleep hours later was also a good sign.

When was the last time she had woken up next to a man? She couldn't even remember. Not since her arrival at the Temple on Coruscant, and it had been a long time even before that. Her life was focused around her work and her patients. Of course, when she did get around to sleeping with a man again, the last one she had expected it to be was Master Jinn!

Not that she was complaining--not in the slightest. Her first reaction to him was one of attraction, but she had squelched it quickly, her instincts warning her that professionalism was needed with him, nothing more. And so, she had ignored the fact that she found him attractive, that she found herself wanting to lose herself in his blue eyes, that she enjoyed watching his swaggering stride, that she wanted to trace the length of his crooked nose, wanted to see him smile or hear him laugh--just once.

Until now, she had been Healer Maede, distant and professional. But perhaps now it was safe to let down her guard a little bit, especially since he wouldn't ever have to know about it.

Gently, she lay her hand on the side of his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb, pleased to see that some of the stress lines had disappeared from his face. Hopefully, not all of them would return as soon as he awoke. He was hurting so much, and it was so unnecessary, but she didn't know how she could help him see that. She couldn't, really. It was something either he would figure out for himself, or he wouldn't. Either way, no one else would be able to make him understand. All she could do was listen and try to offer comfort if he would accept it.

But comfort wasn't foremost in her mind at the moment, not with him lying so close, looking so delectably sleep-tousled. She skimmed her fingertips lightly over the soft, delicate skin of his lips. How would they taste? What would his beard feel like if they kissed? What would it feel like if he brushed it against her bare skin? That thought sent a delicious shiver through her, and she closed her eyes, trying to banish such unprofessional thoughts and get herself fully under control again.

When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her.

"You were touching me," he said, his voice husky with sleep.

"My apologies," she replied coolly, not about to give an explanation unless he demanded one.

But to her surprise, he offered her a one-sided smile. "I liked it."

"Oh..." An answering smile bloomed slowly. "Well, good."

They lay silently for a while, Qui-Gon appearing to be studying her carefully; Maede didn't resume her explorations, but she didn't move away from him either, waiting to see what his move would be.

"Tell me about yourself," he said quietly, folding one arm and tucking it beneath his head.

"What do you want to know?" She tucked her own arm beneath her head so she would be even with him again and waited for his first question. She doubted he was terribly interested in the details of her life--why would he be?--but he probably needed or wanted a diversion before having to think about all the problems he faced, not only with his former Padawan but with the mission as well.

"You transferred here from another Temple. Why?"

"Well..." Without realizing it, she slid her free arm across his waist and snugged a little closer as she considered how best to explain. "The Temple at Coruscant is the heart of the Order," she began. "I wanted to be a part of its rhythm. There wasn't much chance for field work at the Temple where I was trained. It's on one of the farther flung planets, quiet, not a lot going on. It's mainly a place of contemplation and study. Other than the occasional training injuries or calls to a neighboring system, Healers aren't much use there. I felt... wasted. Like I was stagnating."

"So you came here."

She nodded. "So I came here. I haven't regretted it. I've been challenged, learned so much, had a chance to do field work... It's been wonderful."

"Did you always train as a Healer? Even from the nursery?"

Again, she nodded, absently running her hand up and down his back; she only became aware of what she was doing when he began to mimic her actions, and she felt his large, warm hand moving slowly from her hip to her shoulderblade and back again.

"The Jedi who tested me found that I was Force-sensitive, high in empathy but weak in reflexes--the classic signs of a Healer. I was pretty easy to categorize," she added with a soft chuckle.

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Of course I do," she replied, a little surprised that he would even ask. "It's who I am."

He nodded, approval gleaming in his eyes, and she felt unaccountably as if she had just given the right answer on a difficult exam.

"What about the rest of your life? Outside Med?"

"What about it?" she laughed outright. "I'm not even sure it really exists. I all but live in my office."

"Surely you have friends to enjoy your free time with. Or perhaps lovers."

Was it her imagination, or had he just tightened his grip on her?

"I... don't get out much," she admitted wryly. "I spend so much time in Med, and I'm... Well, I don't make friends quickly or easily, and as for lovers..." She flashed a cheeky grin. "It's been so long, I've forgotten what to do with one of those."

"Are you lonely?" His gaze bore intently into hers, and she had to resist the urge to squirm under the scrutiny.

"No, not really... Healers have a certain amount of intimacy with their patients because we go inside them, in a way."

"But it's your duty," he interrupted softly. "A job. It's not the same as experiencing intimacy with a friend." He paused, then added, his voice deepening slightly, "Or a lover."

Averting her eyes, she conceded the point. "No, it's not. It's ironic... Our lives revolve around touch, but..."

"You touch, but don't feel. You aren't touched in return." He ran his forefinger down her cheek as if to emphasis the truth of his words.

"Yes," she whispered, lifting her gaze to meet his again. "I suppose we have that much in common."

"Yes," he agreed, shifting slightly, "but not at the moment."

He didn't mean for his voice to come out almost as a growl, and for a moment she looked puzzled, obviously not understanding what he meant. Even as his mind distanced itself from the way her legs were entwined with his; the soft, feminine armful she was; and the fact that she was swirling lazy, arousing circles at the small of his back, his treacherous body informed him that parts of it were still too far away. Certain parts of him were enjoying her touch in less than therapeutic ways, and wanted to be closer. Much closer.

From the startled look in her eyes, he knew that she was suddenly, acutely aware of something that couldn't possibly be his lightsaber because he'd left that on the table with the rest of his things.

"Are you..." she began, then closed her mouth, perhaps thinking the question too obvious to voice, given his obvious need.

"I am," he confirmed.

He expected her to move away. Much to his surprise, she slid her arm around his shoulders and drew even closer. Her lips brushed his--the faintest of kisses--and he responded automatically, only to feel her fingers in his hair.

"If you want this to happen," she murmured, her breath mingling with his to stir him further. "If you need this to happen...."

"I do, but..." He shook his head, his tone laden with regret. She doesn't even feel comfortable calling me anything but Master yet. "It would happen now for all of the wrong reasons, Maede. You deserve far more than I can offer right now."

Nodding, she accepted his gentle refusal. He thought he saw disappointment flash in her eyes, but her smile told him that she wasn't taking the rejection personally, and when she spoke, respect was in her voice.

"As much as I dislike admitting it, I have to agree with you. The timing is all wrong."

He nuzzled her nose with his. "Is this standard healing procedure in cases like mine?" he teased, trying to smooth over the moment.

"Only when I find the patient so very desirable," she replied lightly before rolling out of his arms, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathing room.

He got the message she was sending. This isn't professional interest, it's personal. What he did with that once his own emotional turmoil had settled was entirely up to him. Meanwhile, they had a mission to prepare for.

Qui-Gon felt Maede grip the back of his chair harder as the Infiltrator was rocked by gale force winds, knocked about in the blizzard surrounding them. The swirling white world beyond the cockpit window offered no hint as to their altitude or where they were--had offered none since the ship had dropped from orbit directly onto the continent housing Sidious's fortress.

"Strengthen aft shields by ten percent." Maul ordered from his pilot's seat, with Obi-Wan behind him and looking just as calm as his bond mate seemed.

"Done," Qui-Gon replied. "Are we running invisible?"

"We are."

"Do you think Sidious knows we're here?" Maede asked nervously.

"He shouldn't," Qui-Gon said soothingly. "The three of us are adding our shields to yours."

"Is that why I feel like I'm floating in warm bath water?" Her voice dropped to a mutter, "even though this weather is really bothering me..."

"Relax," said Obi-Wan. "We're not in trouble yet."

Recognizing not only the words but the tone as well, Qui-Gon cast a wry look over his shoulder, only to have Obi-Wan wink at him before standing up. Qui-Gon smiled back, if a bit grimly, as the younger man exited the cockpit.

"Preparing to land," Maul warned.

"How can you tell where you're going?" Maede pursued, pausing to ask before she followed Obi-Wan out.

"Because I'm the pilot."

Even as Maul echoed Qui-Gon's own thought, the Master silently acknowledged that Obi-Wan had been right with his assessment that he and Maul had much in common. But he and Maul also have much in common. It's a joy to work with them. Both anticipate need, both forge ahead without hesitation and do what's necessary. I must remember to tell them so after we've finished here.

He smiled again at the thought, remembering how he'd exited his cabin an hour ago to head for the bridge and tend the shift from hyperspace to normal space, only to find that Maul was firmly ensconced in the pilot's chair and staring at the instrumentation as if he could force it to release the little ship that much sooner to his eager, manual care. Qui-Gon had waved the Jedi back into his chair when he would have relinquished control.

"I've been piloting her for two years. It's time someone else took over."

"Thank you, Master."

Settling in the co-pilot's chair, Qui-Gon punched in the Sith fortress coordinates he'd memorized, then shifted the navicomputer's screen Maul's way.

"That's where you're headed."

A brief nod, and Maul took over without another word. That was fine as far as Qui-Gon was concerned: silence on a mission didn't mean lack of manners. Rather, to him, it meant concentration on the matter at hand. Over the years, he and Obi-Wan had begun many days without such verbal pleasantries. It had sometimes confused those they'd worked with, to the point that sometimes they'd had to reassure strangers that they weren't upset with each other--they were just... well... working.

Obi-Wan re-appeared in the cockpit a moment later to offer tea to the two of them, with Maede handing up trays containing a hastily assembled breakfast.

"Since you won't let us fly, we thought maybe we'd cook," she said dryly; her arm accidentally brushed against Qui-Gon's head, and she reached out, almost instinctively, to smooth his hair.

The gesture felt almost a caress, but Qui-Gon found it strangely comforting.

"Thank you," he murmured, and from Maede's arched eyebrow and quiet smile, it seemed that she had sensed the warmth he'd tried to put behind the words.

"Maede cooked. I made the tea," Obi-Wan reassured them quickly, catching Maul's dubious glance as he took his tray.

"Obi-Wan's cooking hasn't improved?" Qui-Gon asked the Knight.

"Not really, no." Maul shook his head.

Sipping his tea, the Master considered this for a moment.

"Pity," he offered before reaching for his own tray.

"Master, I wasn't that bad."

Maede snorted. "You're doomed." Cocking a thumb at Maul, she proclaimed, "Independent witness and confirmation, so don't bother trying to deny anything."

"Obi-Wan, how are you feeling?" Qui-Gon asked a few minutes later as Maul slowed the descent, checked the coordinates one last time, and reached out with the Force to guide them through the clouds to land on the fortress butte.

"I completed a calming kata this morning."

"That's good. But... how do you feel?"

A beat. And then, with reluctance, "Pretty lousy, actually. I know you're fine, Master, but you don't have the memories I do."

Qui-Gon thought about that a moment, then set his tray aside and addressed Maul. "Can you land without my help?"

"Of course." The Jedi cast him a look that said, all too clearly, 'Don't be stupid.'

Rising, Qui-Gon gathered Obi-Wan with a look and headed for his cabin. Once there, he turned as Obi-Wan entered behind him. Folding his arms, he observed, "You look as though you're headed to your own execution."

"Yes, well..." The young Knight shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. "Can't help it, really. That's how I feel."

"I've seen the surveillance tapes Queen Amidala provided the Council," Qui-Gon said softly, "so I've some understanding of your upset." Moving closer, he rested a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "We're all going to come through this just fine. No one will be lost, I promise you."

"You can't promise that, Master."

"Then tell me what reassurance I can offer to set your heart at ease."

The troubled green eyes searched his. "Could we meditate together?"

Nodding instant agreement, Qui-Gon sank cross-legged to the floor and waited for Obi-Wan to join him.

The young Knight stared down at him, then shook his head. "Not like that. Could we do the beginning Padawan meditation?"

Qui-Gon blinked. "We've not done that since--"

"Since you brought me home from Bandemeer. It's been fifteen years, but I need this, Master. You asked what you could do. This is what you can do."

Of all the meditations Obi-Wan could have requested, this one was unique and specific. A private ritual between a new Master and Padawan, it was shared often during the first year. Thereafter, it was abandoned as the teaching bond strengthened exponentially to make such concentrated, verbal reminders no longer necessary.

Qui-Gon nodded. "As you wish."

Rearranging his robes, he knelt and opened his arms to welcome Obi-Wan as he had the first time, so many years ago.

Giving a sigh, Obi-Wan knelt with his back to Qui-Gon and slid his hands down the Master's outstretched arms. His elbows nestled against Qui-Gon's, his fingers draped over the older man's wrists.

When I was a boy, he thought, my hand fit in the palm of his. The same calluses were there then, but his fingers were so much bigger than mine. They were still bigger, with palms that were broad and steady and strong. This morning, Obi-Wan needed their strength, their warmth, and a little more.

"Tell me why you want this?" Qui-Gon rumbled.

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan thought of giving some off-the-cuff, inconsequential answer. I can't, he realized. Not this morning, and certainly not on this planet. The Force has pretty much given me a second chance with him, and I'm not going to blow it.

"You seemed invulnerable to me, then," he said carefully, thoughtfully, "and I felt totally safe with you. You'd chosen me--me--to be your Padawan, and I'd come home to your quarters. We were beginning a long adventure, and I felt that as long as we were together--as long as you'd let me guard your back--nothing bad would happen to us."

Shifting slightly, he turned his head and met Qui-Gon's gaze. "The first and only time you didn't let me guard your back was here on Naboo. Clone or no clone, I want to go back to that moment we shared our first morning as Master and Padawan on Coruscant. I guess I'm trying to get back a little of the feeling I had then. The one that said we belonged to each other, and nothing bad would happen...."

Swallowing hard against the tears choking his throat, Obi-Wan gave up on finishing the sentence.

"Nothing bad would happen, as long as we were together," Qui-Gon finished softly for him.

Nodding, the Master moved closer and rose up on his knees to let his breath glide across the top of Obi-Wan's head. Facing forward again, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and settled in. It took a few minutes, but soon he was breathing in rhythm with Qui-Gon, who waited patiently for him to ground, to join him in the private space that they had built for themselves so many years ago.

Feeling Qui-Gon's pulse beneath his fingers, Obi-Wan synchronized his own to that slow, steady beat. So familiar, he sighed to himself. Fell asleep to it so many nights.

Leaning backward slightly, he rested against Qui-Gon's chest as the Master closed his arms, enfolding Obi-Wan in a cloaked, comforting embrace.

"One...." Qui-Gon began the ritual, breathing the word out over Obi-Wan's right ear, across the space that had once belonged to a new Padawan braid.

"... in purpose, in learning, in the Force," Obi-Wan murmured, exhaling only to inhale with Qui-Gon as they found the familiar rhythm. "One...."

"...in spirit and in soul," Qui-Gon continued. "Bound to me, my Padawan. One...."

"...Padawan, I am bound to you, my Master. One..." Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

Qui-Gon's cheek rested against the side of his head. "...Master and Padawan together, bonded by lessons and bonded by life, until... One..."

"...day a Knight I will be. And still my Master and I will be..." Sliding his hand along Qui-Gon's palm, Obi-Wan entwined his fingers with his. "One...."

"... in purpose, in living, in the Force." Qui-Gon closed the ritual as he closed his fingers, tangling them as the training bond had once entwined between them.

"One, my Master," whispered Obi-Wan.

"My Padawan."

Something wet trailed between his cheek and Qui-Gon's, something joined Obi-Wan's own tears on their track.

"Master?" he whispered, tightening his grip on Qui-Gon as another tear joined the first, mingled with his own and showed no signs of stopping.

The formal meditation position was dropped abruptly. In one fluid motion, the Master dropped back on his heels, wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, and hugged him so hard that he couldn't breathe. Sobs broke from the older man, wracking his frame as he bowed over Obi-Wan.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. So very, very sorry...."

"Hey, it's all right, I promise," he soothed, turning around and sliding onto the floor, only to reach up and wipe his Master's tears away before wrapping his arms around the older man and hugging him tight. "We've all been through hell, but you and I are together again, and everything is going to be all right."

Qui-Gon summoned a crooked smile. "You always have made me believe impossible things."

"Not impossible. Never impossible. Just promise me that you'll let me guard your back again."

"Yes!" Qui-Gon all but snarled the word. "And damn the Council if they try separating us again."

"And damn your distance, and your arrogance, and your resistance, and your not wanting to be touched--"

That earned him a raised eyebrow. Obi-Wan only laughed and hugged him again.

"Welcome home, Master. I've missed you a lot."

"I've missed you, too, my Padawan."

Emerging from the Master's cabin, Maede felt a little breathless after spending the last few minutes installing herself in the cold-suit Qui-Gon had provided. It wrapped around her like a second skin and was a little too snug for her liking, especially compared to the loose-fitting, far more comfortable Jedi robes she was accustomed to wearing.

I'll have to peel myself out of it at the end of the mission, she groused to herself, flexing her fingers experimentally inside the gloves that were attached to the sleeves. Idiot mittens, we called these when I was an Initiate.

Entering the common area, she was comforted by the sight of three Jedi in cold-suits that fit just as snugly and left little to her imagination. Do they know that? she wondered, drinking in the sight of the goodies before her. I doubt it, or they wouldn't be parading around so casually in front me. And then she had to laugh at herself for feeling a twinge of embarrassment over the cold-suit, especially considering the conversation she had had with Qui-Gon that morning. If they weren’t self-conscious, she didn’t have a reason to be, and soon they would be completely absorbed in the mission anyway.

She smirked to see Obi-Wan pulling at the neck of his suit. Tugging on the rubbery, floppy hood on the way by, she asked, "Too close in there for comfort?"

"Something like that. Here, this is yours." He handed her a set of ice goggles, the smallest of four sets laid out on the table.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, taking the goggles and watching as Qui-Gon and Maul laid out the explosives.

Such small things, she thought, scrutinzing the devices, a considerable amount of firepower enclosed in gleaming black metal casings small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. But so deadly. That thought sobered her immediately, reminding her exactly how dangerous this particular mission was. So much rode on its success, and its failure could cost not only their lives but the lives of countless others if Sidious continued to gain power.

Coming up behind Maede, Qui-Gon didn't ask permission before gathering her dark hair and tucking it into the hood of the suit. Lost in thought, she didn’t sense his approach, and when she felt his fingers in her hair, she jumped slightly, startled, then smiled over her shoulder at him.

"We'll wait for full dark before going in," he said. Sliding a hand over the top of her head, he carefully guided the hood up over her skull and offered no further details of the mission at hand.

Obi-Wan grinned at her perplexed look. "It's okay--he'll take care of everything. Just jump when he says jump, and you'll be fine."

"Jump. Right. Somehow, I'd feel a bit better knowing a few more details."

"As you wish," the Master replied. "The cloned guards are highly susceptible to mind tricks. We'll distract and slip right by them."

Just that simple, huh? she silently snorted.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Maede turned to see Maul stalking Obi from behind, and she was surprised to see what looked suspiciously like mischief glittering in his eyes. Without warning, Maul gathered his mate's unruly mop, stuffed it into the neck of the suit, and yanked the unforgiving material up over Obi-Wan's head. The Knight lurched forward, then whirled to glower at Maul. "Hey!"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" His face was a study of bland innocence.

"You did that on purpose." Obi continued to mock-glare at his lover as he tucked a few stray tendrils of hair under the hood, but Maul ignored him, reverting to business once more.

"Here is your communicator." Turning back to the explosives, Maul located the detonator, checked the wiring, and tucked it into a backpack. Still grumbling, Obi-Wan helped him.

Grinning, Maede looked up at Qui-Gon, who was watching the two Knights with amusement. He was also finishing pulling up his own hood, having tucked his mane safely away without her getting to watch or help.

"It's all right," he murmured, noting her look of disappointment. "I'll let you... unpeel me."

"Promise?" she asked mischievously.

"I do," came the solemn answer, but his eyes were dancing. "Obi-Wan," he said into his communicator.

Turning on his own hand-held device, Obi-Wan spoke into it without turning around. "Yes, Master."

"Maul?"

"Master." The Jedi made some small adjustment to his comm unit before sliding it back onto his belt.

"Maede?"

"I'm here."

Full dark came far too soon for Maede's comfort, but the other Jedi seemed relaxed and calm as they gathered at the hull door. She hoped she appeared as tranquil as they did even though her insides were fluttering with nerves; she didn't want to add to the problems they already faced by causing them to feel they had to baby-sit her. She'd gone through basic training, and she could defend herself if necessary, so she wasn't entirely helpless. I may not be as effective with my 'saber, but I do know how to use it, she thought, resting her hand on the hilt of her lightsaber where it was clipped to her belt. Just knowing it was there was a reassurance.

"You'll let us know when you reach the lab, and when you're leaving?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes. And you'll let us know when the explosives are placed?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then let's go."

They walked out into a frigidly cold, clear night. Glancing down to see herself step out onto nothing, Maede gasped and grabbed Qui-Gon's arm.

"The ship is cloaked," he murmured, slowing his step down the gangway until she felt certain enough to let go.

"I forgot."

He gave her a short nod, then grasped her hand, guiding her into the shadows. Their feet crunched on the snow-packed ice, and she found herself grateful for the suit, which protected all but her mouth from the cold air. Peering around Qui-Gon's broad back, she watched as Obi-Wan and Maul disappeared around the corner. Looking upward, Maede saw that they were standing at the base of what appeared to be a huge stone wall.

"Where are we?"

"Back door, so to speak." Squatting in place, the Master palmed his lightsaber, ignited it, and thrust through the stone. It yielded instantly, letting him carve a small doorway wide enough for him to slide through.

Maede followed him quickly, taking the hand he offered on the other side of the wall and straightening in blackness parted only by the glow of his saber. She could have reached out to the Force and allowed it to guide her through the pervading darkness, but the solid warmth of human contact felt more secure at the moment; just having something--someone--to hold on to helped her remain calm and focused on what they were doing rather than worry about lay ahead, waiting for them. Repressing a shiver, she tightened her fingers around his and was comforted by the gentle, reassuring squeeze she received in return.

"Storage room," Qui-Gon whispered. "Don't speak from now on until I tell you it's safe."

Qui-Gon's communicator beeped softly. "First position, Master."

"Acknowledged, Obi-Wan. We're inside and moving toward the lab. Running silent and will let you know when we've arrived. "

"Wish I was with you."

"As do I, my Padawan. You two watch yourselves."

"Yes, Master."

She'd never heard him speak with such warmth or caring. For the first time, she caught a glimpse of what life must have been like for him and Obi-Wan, and she found this new facet of the Jedi Master appealing. I'm going to have a hundred questions to ask him or Obi-Wan--whoever will answer me--after this mission.

His hand captured hers again, and from the angle of his arm she knew he was cautioning her to stay close. Wrapping her fingers around the back of his belt, she locked her stride with his, reaching out with her own Force-sense to move in careful unison with him.

Quietly sabering through the lock on the storage room door, Qui-Gon slid the door back slightly and waited. He's grounded the way I am, going into surgery, Maede noticed, mimicking his stance and staying as still and quiet as he. I guess, in a way, this is surgery of a different kind.

Moments passed, and still he remained there, and she began to wonder what he was waiting for--until a pair of guards came into view. They were covered from head to toe in dingy white battle armor, every part of their bodies protected... and hidden. Even their helmets seemed designed to obscure what lay beneath, covering the entire head and with small, darkened eye slits that showed nothing.

"TC14, checking in," came a droll voice. "Patrolling fourth quadrant."

"TC18, checking in," came a second droll voice, companion to the first. "Patrolling fourth quadrant."

The two guards passed by the open door all but wandering on their way, and she shuddered as they walked by. These men... these clones... whatever they were... they felt empty. As if the armored bodies patrolling the corridors were merely animated husks. The life energy that brightened every living being's aura was low, almost non-existent with these creatures. Just feeling their dull energy was enough; she never wanted to touch one in the flesh, her skin crawling at just the idea.

Slipping out behind the guards, Qui-Gon waved his hand almost dismissively in their direction before pulling Maede out in front of him and gliding off in the other direction. Taking a sharp right turn and then a left, he guided her through a maze of empty corridors leading ever deeper into the fortress.

Occasionally, he'd pause to pull her into a nearby alcove and wait for the next patrol. Always, there were two of them. Always, they were TC-somethings, and all with the same boring tone of voice.

Qui-Gon was right; they're genetic copies, every one, but damaged somehow, she noted. Qui-Gon's done his homework well. But then, he's a Master, so.... She could just imagine the dry look she'd get if she were to confide her thoughts.

Long minutes later, he paused at a plain-looking door and removed a small kit from his belt. Taking a sharp, metallic tool from within, he set about disabling the sensor installed in the stone beside the door. The longer they stood there, the more nervous Maede grew as the Force grew more agitated around her.

Surely he feels that, too? Qui-Gon....

He continued serenely with his work, until two clones marched around the corner, stopped dead at the sight of them, and drew their weapons.

The door clicked open, and Qui-Gon ushered Maede behind him even as he drew his lightsaber. "Get what you need. Quickly. And tell Obi-Wan we've arrived."

Blasterfire exploded on the wall beside her head, and the healer needed no more encouragement before ducking into the lab. Igniting her own saber, she let its light guide her around the room. In the corridor behind her, she felt a stirring in the Force.

"No one is here... you don't see anything," she heard Qui-Gon's soothing voice.

"I don't see anything."

"Neither do I."

Grabbing her communicator, Maede whispered, "Obi-Wan, we're here."

"Obi-Wan is busy at the moment," Maul's voice filtered from between her fingers. "Where is Qui-Gon?"

"He's dealing with a slight problem at the moment." She tilted the communicator as Qui-Gon spoke from the corridor.

"You've inspected this quadrant and can take a break."

"We can take our break now."

"Very well," Maul said. "I'll tell Obi-Wan you've reached your goal. Out."

Maede began a systematic inspection of the lab, and the feeling of revulsion engendered by the clones intensified. This room was horror chamber--a mockery of the life-affirming, healing environment of Med. Everywhere she looked were instruments of science and research used for dark, twisted purposes; she could feel the taint on them, and it made her reluctant to touch anything even with her gloves on. The aura of pain and suffering was almost palpable, and she hastily reinforced her shields as much as she could, afraid that if she opened herself up to this room even a little, she would be able to feel the torment of Sidious' victims, to hear the residual echo of countless screams.

The Master all but sauntered into the lab. "Have you found what we need?"

Pulling herself out of her horrific reverie, she glanced around the assortment of huge bacta canisters containing specimens and creatures she didn't care to look at too closely. Moving past a bank of storage cabinets, she let the Force guide her and settled on an tall, cylindrical case sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the room. Laying her hand on it, she nodded.

"This is it. It's the only thing colder than the room, and it's shielded."

He ignited his saber, but she quickly rested a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Don't. DNA's fragile. The gamma and the heat could destroy the samples."

He nodded, then reapplied the tool she'd seen him use in the hallway. In a matter of moments, the case was open and she was staring at a collection of small vials.

"How do you know which one we need?" he asked.

"I don't. So, I'll take one of everything."

Everything proved to be only five samples. These, she tucked inside her belt, cradling them in a chemical ice cocoon that would keep them safe until she handed them into the Council's care.

"Done?" He asked.

She nodded, and jumped back the next moment when he brought his saber down on the collection of vials she'd left behind. Metal sparked and melted around them, the heating unit wailing its protest.

"Did I miss anything?"

She eyed the pile of smoldering metal, a small, one-sided smile tugging her lips. "I don't think so."

He took her hand once again and she was hard put to keep up with his long strides.

"Why did you do that if we're blowing up the complex?"

"In case we fail, I want Sidious to have one less source of genetic material."

He didn't offer more information, but she guessed his thoughts nonetheless: Of course, if we fail and he captures us, we'll likely be the next genetic material he stores... or tortures.

Leaving the lab, Maede was startled to see the two clones they'd encountered earlier, talking between themselves as they sat against the far wall, their blasters at their sides.

"What's with them?"

"They're taking their break," said Qui-Gon, sealing the lab behind them before taking Maede's hand once more. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

She needed no further urging. She was also glad that he was leading the way, as she had absolutely no idea which way out was. Reaching the storage room without incident, Qui-Gon reached for the door just as two droidekas rolled around the far corner, uncurled with lightening-fast efficiency and blasted within an inch of his fingertips.

Leaping backward, he all but leaped on Maede, who flattened herself against the wall and ignited her own lightsaber as Qui-Gon did his. Deflecting her share of the fire, even as Qui-Gon's broad frame gave her little room to maneuver, she grounded in the Force and felt the blows vibrate up her arms and across her collarbones.

"They're shielded!" he yelled, driving her back along the storage room's exterior wall as he was driven back. "We can't win against them!"

"Fine! Then we change the rules." Plunging the lavender blade of her own lightsaber into the stone at her shoulder, she carved a narrow passage and slipped through it.

The Master followed slowly behind her, giving her time to dart across the room and locate the hole he'd created earlier.

"Come on!"

"Go!" he ordered, still deflecting fire. "I'll catch up."

"But--"

"Maede, stone is no barrier against droidekas. GO!" he roared, adding a mental Force shove with the order, so that she obeyed instantly.

Slipping out into the cold, she trotted along the wall in the direction she'd seen the Knights go, and palmed her communicator. Despite his reassurance that he would catch up, it didn't take a brilliant strategist to figure out Qui-Gon was trapped; if he followed her through the hole, the droidekas would follow him, blasting anything that got in their way, which included the wall--and her.

A knot of worry tightened in her stomach, and she hastily retrieved her communicator. She wasn’t a strong fighter, and Qui-Gon knew that. If she tried to go back and help him, he might divide his concentration between trying to defend against the droidekas and trying to protect her, which was a good way for her to get them both killed. No, this was a situation better left to those who knew what they were doing. Obi and Maul could help him far better than she could, and the last thing she wanted to do was get in the way.

"Obi--"

"Here."

"We got the stuff and I'm out, but Qui-Gon's stuck inside. I'm only a few feet from where you left us."

"Be right there."

The words were reassuring, and Obi’s tone was strong and confident; he would take extricate his Master from the trap or die trying. Maede just hoped he was in time.

Standing at the entrance Maede had carved from the corridor, Obi-Wan tilted his head and listened. "I can't hear anything. No blasters, no laserfire, nothing."

"He was there just a few minutes ago," Maede hissed, sandwiched between the two Jedi. "Two droidekas were shooting at us, and he told me to get out."

"You do not think he is...." Maul didn't finish the thought, and Obi-Wan cast him a look saying, 'Don't say it, don't even think it.'

Obi-Wan crept closer to the gaping hold in the stone, dared to lean out to survey the corridor beyond. "It's empty."

"Then where is he?"

"Hush..." Listening intently, Obi-Wan stepped out into the corridor. "Hear that?"

"Vaguely."

"Droidekas. The Master went that way, and so will we. Come on."

Retreating down yet another corridor in the fortress maze, Qui-Gon released himself to the Force and blocked yet another blast from the droideka flanking him. The Force swirled with an angry Darkness and he followed its resentful siren song. This way lies Sidious....

He knew that Maede would have found Maul and Obi-Wan by now. All three of them were probably tracking him through the maze. In only a few minutes, either Maul or Obi-Wan would realize that he was pursuing some covert mission he'd failed to mention to them. He could almost hear his former Padawan's voice in his mind: "You're trying to reach Sidious, aren't you? Alone? Is this the Council's stupid imperative, or did you take it upon yourself to commit suicide?"

"Master!" Almost on cue, Obi-Wan's voice hissed in his communicator.

Deflecting fire with one hand, Qui-Gon reached for the device. "Obi-Wan."

"We've got the DNA. Why the hell did you go back in there?"

"Obi-Wan, not now, please. I'm afraid I'm rather too busy at the moment to talk."

"Abort the mission, Master, and head back this way. You're not getting anywhere near Sidious, and you know it. He's probably dug down three hundred spans in this ice rock, and you'll be stuck up here on the surface. Give it up, please?"

"Gladly, Obi-Wan. Except there's a slight problem with droidekas just now."

"Plural? As in more than one?" A string of colorful invectives flowed from Obi-Wan.

"I must remember to ask where you learned those, my Padawan, as it certainly wasn't from me. Now please head back to the ship. The--" Qui-Gon's voice stopped, replaced by the sounds of lightsaber in motion and the hissing whine of deflected laserfire. "The DNA must not fall back into Sidious' hands."

Maul's voice broke in. "Has he shown himself to you?"

"No. Why should he? His mechanicals are doing a marvelous job."

Qui-Gon dropped the communicator the next moment, as two hands were required to defend against the concerted effort the droidekas were now making.

"Master!"

"Qui-Gon!"

"I'm still here," he shouted at the fallen communicator. "I strongly suggest that you complete your mission and get the DNA safely back to the ship!"

He was forced into retreat and left the device where it lay. Skirting around a corner, he saw that he'd entered yet another corridor that was empty, save for a stack of storage crates sitting against the far wall. Sprinting across the expanse, he Force-leaped onto the top crate and slid down behind it just as the droidekas wheeled around the corner.

The trio stood frozen for a moment, listening to the faint sounds of battle coming through the tinny filter of the still-open communicator channel.

"He said to return to the ship," Maede whispered. Her gaze lifted to meet Obi-Wan's only to meet not the horror she knew was reflected in her own eyes, but steely determination. "He wants us to leave him here."

"No, he strongly suggested it. I do not choose to follow his suggestion. You and Maul head for the ship. I'll be along shortly."

"You will not go alone."

Maul ended the debate by moving down the corridor in the direction of Qui-Gon, with Obi-Wan and a gratefully outvoted Maede at his heels.

They met clones. As soon as one was cut down, another popped into its place, wearing the same face with the same lifeless eyes, marching like obedient Welleks to the slaughter. Maede worked in concert with her companions, helping to cut a line toward Qui-Gon. She noticed that Maul stayed close to her--defending her--even as Obi-Wan took up the front to push ahead steadily.

The expression on his face was grim as they fought their way even inward. The clones came at them like mindless drones, never seeming to realize that even as their blaster fire was deflected back by the lightsabers, it penetrated their body armor and killed them. They dropped like Txlexel rats in an armed amusements arcade, and yet they kept coming. In only a few minutes, Maede's world had reduced itself to the screams of the dying clones, their blood splashed and smeared on the surrounding walls, and the grim look on her companions' faces.

She did her part to fell as many as she could, feeling no remorse as the cloned creatures died. Perhaps she was releasing them from a miserable existence; perhaps death was a kindness. Perhaps, and yet she had no time to ponder the thought, or to make peace with the part of her screaming that her oath had been to save life, never to take it.

What Sidious has created isn't life, she reasoned. It's a perversion. And if he captures Qui-Gon, it'll be... unthinkable. She shuddered at the thought of cutting down new clones, all watching her mournfully with Qui-Gon's blue eyes.

They fought their way free of the clones, only to hear the sounds of laserfire intensify. Streaking ahead, Obi-Wan skidded to a halt at the next corner, and Maul hissed behind Maede--clearly disapproving that his mate seemed hell-bent upon leaving them behind. Obi-Wan waved a dismissive hand without looking over his shoulder. "I know what I'm doing," said that hand, and Maede had no doubt that it was in answer to something Maul had just communicated through their link.

A quick glance at Maul gave her not the words, but warned of the emotions beneath them. Obi-Wan was definitely braver than she to face the consequences awaiting him once he and Maul were back on the ship. Nonetheless, Maul urged her on until they'd once more caught up with Obi-Wan, who by now had peered around the corner to discern the situation.

"Qui-Gon's trapped behind some crates against the wall. The droidekas are systematically blowing up each crate in an attempt to either smoke him out, or kill him. There's no way he can deflect fire from all of them before he makes it to the next portal," he added, pointing down the long, smooth corridor.

"Nice strategy," Maul murmured. "It would probably work."

"Yes, except that we're here now, and I have another strategy in mind. Hold this," he snapped, shoving something into Maede's hands.

Quick inspection revealed what appeared to be a fuse - no doubt for the explosive he was digging out of his pack. A moment later, he plucked the fuse from Maede's hand and inserted it into the small canister he held.

"Maul, I'll need another."

"Of course," he replied, already elbow deep in the pack. "There are two of them."

"Set it for thirty count," Obi-Wan advised, adjusting something on his explosive device.

Maul was assembling the device with practiced speed as the clacking of the droidekas' metal feet informed them that they were changing position for a new attack line. The Jedi and the healer cringed as three more crates vaporized under the laser assault. Qui-Gon's respite was nearly at an end; two more crates and he would be at their mercy.

Obi-Wan glanced at Maul over his shoulder, then reached back to snatch the explosive out of his mate's hands even as Maul set the timing.

"What are you planning?" Maul demanded. "Check the timing on that--"

Ignoring his mate's advice, Obi-Wan leaped around the corner and across the expanse separating him from the droidekas. On an oath, Maul shoved Maede aside and took off after Obi-Wan. Not to be left behind, the Healer sprinted after the two Jedi, her saber held at the ready just as the closest of the droidekas recognized their presence and turned to begin firing on them.

Force-throwing the first explosive at the droideka that was now attacking them, Obi-Wan balanced the canister in the air over the mechanical's head, tucked and rolled as the device exploded, shattering the force field and sending metal shards flying everywhere. Whirling, Maul threw himself on Maede, bringing her to the floor so hard that the air whooshed out of her lungs and she gasped for breath. His body covered hers, his hands protecting her head even as he tucked his own against her shoulder.

She felt the Force shield he threw over them, was grateful for it as huge bits of metal whirled past to impale themselves in the wall behind them. She cringed against Maul as a metal blaster arm spun across the floor to crash into the wall with a deafening metallic echo. Turning her head, she tried to cry out a warning as Obi-Wan bounced back to his feet beside the remaining droideka which was leveling its laser cannon on the Jedi lying behind the remaining crates. Ignoring him, it remained remaining focused on its objective, determined to destroy the Jedi and seemingly oblivious to the fact that its associate had been reduced to scrap.

The laser fired at Qui-Gon just as Obi-Wan launched the second canister toward the remaining droideka, intending to repeat his previous exercise. Maede and Maul watched as the device flew upward and waited for it to hover over the thing's blunt head, waited for the explosion that would rescue them all. But it detonated before it had reached the halfway point between Jedi and mechanical war machine.

The force of the blast reduced the bronze-colored machine into sharp pieces, arms and circuits, and fragments of brittle carapace that flew in every direction. The exterior explosion triggered an answering interior explosion, resulting in a hail of more metallic fragments. The force of the explosion expanded equally behind the device as well as before, destroying the droideka and simultaneously slamming Obi-Wan against the wall opposite the crates, followed closely by flying the shrapnel from the droidekas shredded external skin.

Obi-Wan's companions could only watch in horror as his body slammed into the wall, then slid bonelessly down it to lie crumpled on the smooth hardness of the stonecrete floor. Without the Force shield he'd used before, the crushing force of the explosion and the rain of sharp metal fragments reached him easily, impaling him and burying themselves in his unprotected body.

Maede heard the thud of his body hitting, the hollow crack of his skull against the unyielding stonecrete.

"Too soon--the timer--" she heard Maul whisper.

They were still on the floor, with Maul's lean body and Force skill still sheltering her from the dangers of the explosion. While one part of her was grateful for his protection, another now saw him only as an impediment to her reaching her patient.

"Get off!" she demanded, shoving at his shoulder while simultaneously twisting out from underneath him.

It took only a fraction of a second for him to comply with her request, and then he was gone, heavy boots echoing as he raced across the corridor before she had even managed to gain her feet.

Skidding to a halt, Maul dropped to his knees beside Obi-Wan, who now lay pale and lifeless, save for the rapidly spreading areas of scarlet, splashed across his gray coldsuit. Within seconds, he was joined by Qui-Gon, who knelt beside Maul. Maede ran up in time to see a quick, jerky lift of the Jedi's ribcage, outlined by the clinging coldsuit. That breath told her that Obi-Wan still lived and was at least attempting to breathe, but as her practiced Healer's gaze swept across him, she feared that the small gift of life and breath was likely to be the only good news.

They were all at Obi-Wan's side before the metal and noxious fumes had settled. Maede flinched as Maul kicked a larger piece of casing aside, and Qui-Gon moved up to settle at her side.

"Gods..." the Master breathed. He reached a hand toward the fallen Knight, only to let it hover in the air over Obi-Wan's shoulder as though he dared not touch him.

Blood seeped from his wounds--many wounds, too many wounds. Maede's mind, that Healer's mind suddenly stuttered to a halt, as though it couldn't figure out where to begin.

Wake up! she ordered herself. There are two mechanisms of injury here--blunt trauma and puncture wounds--so get to work. What's most important?

Old training took over where her stunned mind could not. Obi has a heartbeat and he's breathing; those are most important. Now... where is the blood coming from? She examined him gingerly and bit back a sob. Everywhere.

The shrapnel had flown straight and true, piercing in an even burst, catching him from shoulders to knees to cause numerous deep, tiny wounds.

Tiny on the surface, but oh, Gods, what has it hit? What can't I see inside of him?

A soft, moist intake of breath startled her. Widening her eyes in horror, she bent to examine the chest rising and falling jerkily beneath her hands. The sound reached her again; wet, bubbly, fluid-filled. It was the sound of damaged lungs and possibly further damage. Glancing across at Qui-Gon, she saw that he knew what it was as well as she did: the sound of battlefield death.

By instinct, she found the deep wound in his chest, low over his right ribs, and slapped her hand down over it, blocking the air that was being drawn in through his side and rendering his efforts to breathe nearly useless.

Blasterfire slammed into the wall over their heads. Maede shielded her patient with her body as the other two Jedi whirled as one, lightsabers up and defending against the new clone arrivals. Her hand covered the critical wound for the moment, but she was helpless to do more. One hand blocked a wound she dared not let go, but her medical resources were on the surface and her only source of assistance was fighting off clones that were intent upon finishing the job the droidekas had begun.

Glancing down at her patient, she noted that the areas of scarlet on his coldsuit were expanding, creeping toward each other as the bleeding continued. Blood was even beginning to pool beneath his head.

She bent closer, trying to peer into his eyes, to assess the damage as she could, but blaster fire zinged over her head, sending her crouching protectively over him again. The ongoing battle hampered even the minimal medical support she could offer. If he's going to make it, the best thing to do now is to just scoop him up and run.

"We've got to get him back to the ship!" she shouted over the noise. "I can't do anything for him here!"

"Carry him!" Maul ordered Qui-Gon, sparing not a glance behind at his fallen mate as he deflected blasterfire fast and furious as more clones crowded before them. "I'll protect your retreat."

Qui-Gon nodded agreement and Maul threw himself savagely into the clones, his lightsaber little more than a blur of crimson brilliance as he brought down the clones and drove them back from his injured companion.

Dousing his saber, the Master whirled, knelt, and slid his hands beneath his former apprentice. Lifting the unconscious form in his arms, Qui-Gon cradled Obi-Wan against his broad chest. He fought to ignore the warm, sticky substance that coated his hands, ignored the blood that instantly stained his shoulder where Obi-Wan's head rested. Were it not for the warmth of the blood now flowing down his arms to drip from his elbows, he would have easily believed his former Padawan was dead.

Dead, in my defense. Pointless, unnecessary. My life should have been forfeit this mission. No one would mind that. But he feared that Obi-Wan was dying in his place.

Not yet, the Force whispered to him. Not yet....

Hope warred with desperation, and assistance waited within the Infiltrator. Holding the far-too-still body in his arms, he turned to snap orders to Maede.

"Defend as you can, stay close behind Maul. And be careful."

She needed no such warning, and the stricken look in his eyes told her that he expected none of them to survive the journey back to the ship. More than that, he told her without words that he blamed himself for what had happened.

Time enough later to tell him that he's wrong. I hope, she thought, shaking her head in defiance of his commands. "Wait, I can't fight--I can't let go here. This wound must stay sealed--"

"Have you means to cover it beyond your hand?"

"Not here, but if I let go, he won't be moving any air. The lung will collapse, and he'll die."

"If we stay, we'll all die," he snapped, more harshly than he intended. Turning on his heel, he cradled his precious burden close and waded into the fray.

Maede had no choice but to let go, and do as the Master ordered.

Stay with me, Padawan, please....

They made progress meter by precious meter, with Obi-Wan's blood soaking into Qui-Gon's coldsuit until it seemed that it was his own life-force bleeding away. Tightening his grip, Qui-Gon would have forced that life into Obi-Wan if he could have.

I would trade places with you. You can't die... not when you have all of life before you, and someone to love you. It wasn't supposed to be this way, my Obi-Wan. If anyone is to die, let it be me.

The Force didn't seem to agree with him--but then, it never did, these days.

Getting out of this labyrinth was proving far more difficult than getting in, and took far longer. Or perhaps it was Qui-Gon's own desperation that made it seem so.

There is no fear, he breathed, reaching for calm as he tightened his grip on Obi-Wan. There is no death, there is only the Force....

Has the Force ever had someone loved more dearly than life bleed to death in its arms? Have the philosophers who preached this? Qui-Gon rather thought not. The Force might be whispering in his ear, but death hovered just as closely over his Padawan.

The blood had soaked through to Qui-Gon's skin now. Obi-Wan's gasping respirations were getting more shallow, and his lips were tinged blue. Hope was trickling through the Master's fingers along with his Padawan's blood.

Suddenly, amazingly, he was able to move. There were no obstacles before him, but Qui-Gon realized that there was no one immediately behind him either; his rescuers were mired in clones, halting their retreat. Assessing the situation with one quick glance, he changed directions and headed back toward Maede and Maul.

Stepping over yet another clone body, Qui-Gon knelt and took the time to scoop up a blaster. Carefully bracing Obi-Wan's head against his shoulder, he positioned the weapon and took down the clone threatening Maede's unguarded flank. She jumped as the laserlight flashed by her hip, and cast a grim smile over her shoulder as she realized what he was doing.

Charging hastily through the opening Qui-Gon had won her, the Healer headed for him at a flat run.

The electrically-charged singing of Maul's lightsaber told her that he was attempting to utilize the new avenue of retreat behind her, backing away from the clones as he felled them, but the others surged forward over the bodies of their comrades in their programmed determination to reach the one wielding the Jedi weapon.

Maede, now clear of the fighting, reached Qui-Gon's side, and immediately pressed her hand down over Obi-Wan's chest to suppress the soft, gurgling sounds that accompanied each tiny breath Obi-Wan managed to take.

They were within reach of the exit to this hellish place. The surface, the ship and escape was within reach.

For them, but not for Maul.

Struggling toward them, Maul gained a few more feet but he also brought his encircling army of clones with him as he fought. The clones were stupid: losing track of their comrades and ignoring their own safety, they focused entirely on Maul, and more were arriving every minute... Spilling endlessly out of some unseen barracks in this fortress hive. Where Maul went, they would follow.

They're extensions of Sidious, Qui-Gon realized. It's no coincidence that they've surrounded Maul. Won't let him go, and won't retreat, no matter how many we kill.

The realization hit Qui-Gon like a physical blow. Maul turned in that moment, looking toward Qui-Gon and his bondmate, lying bloody and lifeless in his former Master's arms. The younger Jedi spared a glance toward Maede, then locked his gaze into Qui-Gon's.

No words were needed. None were said.

Maul nodded once, then turned away from them to throw himself back into the battle, vaulting over the nearest wave to land further back in the corridor. Further away from escape.

The clones followed him, pressing the fight back the way they had just come. Maul's blade flashed, the clones near him screamed while those furthest away pressed forward in a wave that drove all of them deeper into the recesses of stronghold.

"Maul, no!" Maede screamed as he retreated. She turned in horrified appeal to the Jedi Master, but he could offer no reassurance, could only gaze down at her with deep sorrow in his eyes.

"Maul wishes Obi-Wan to live. The best we can do for him is to save the man he loves." With that, the tall Jedi an pushed out into the cold night, heading for the Infiltrator in long, ground-covering strides, leaving a trail marked in scarlet splashes on the snow.

Swiping at tears that joined Obi-Wan's blood in the snow, Maede could do nothing else but follow.

Snow. Glaring white-on-white greeted Maede as she plunged from the underground complex, squinting painfully as she struggled to keep up with Qui-Gon. The sun had risen while they were inside, reminding her that the planet had kept turning, that life had gone on even though Obi-Wan's might not. Even burdened as Qui-Gon was with Obi-Wan in his arms, his long strides and urgent intent set a punishing pace for the small Healer as she floundered in his wake.

She trusted the Master to know where they were going, to find the now invisible ship; she had to, because she certainly didn't know. If she had been left on her own, she would have had to stumble about with her hands out-stretched until she hit something solid. She longed to see the reassuring lines of the Infiltrator, black against the whiteness. It would have offered some comfort to see it in the distance, rather than trusting blindly that Maul's sacrifice and their frantic flight would end sooner rather than later.

Pulling her gaze away from the featureless landscape, she focused once more on Qui-Gon's broad, taunt shoulders, and was startled to see him suddenly begin walking upward through the air, then abruptly disappear.

The Infiltrator! Thank the gods! She could have wept, but she was panting too hard to give the tears the energy they'd demand. Instead, she scrambled awkwardly up the invisible gangway and following the Master back to the cabin.

Obi-Wan was carried down the corridor and gently settled onto the sleep couch he had shared with Maul on the journey out from Coruscant. Snatching up her medical supplies, Maede dashed into the small chamber, only to skid to a halt, for Qui-Gon's large frame filled the available access to the bed.

She could hear Obi-Wan's struggle to breathe, louder and more frightening in this small space. Qui-Gon didn't back away though, and she thumped him impatiently with a fist.

"Move over. I need to get in there."

He flinched, though the blow itself was nothing, and hastily edged away from the bed, from his former Padawan, from his friend. Maede leaned over her patient and got her first clear look at him. She was startled to find green eyes staring up at her, wide with fear and glassy with oxygen-deprivation.

"Obi-Wan," she offered gently. "It's all right. We'll fix it."

He blinked at her, and she noted that his right pupil was larger than his left. Noticeably larger.

Head injury. Oh Sith... Unbidden, her mind replayed the sickening hollow crack of the Jedi's head striking the stonecrete wall. She shook the memory aside. Lung first. Air first, then head. Gods know what else we have to deal with.

"Qui-Gon, give me the sharp from the box, then find the bacta patches and seals."

She didn't bother to look to see if he was obeying her, but heard him digging hurriedly through her supplies. The blade was presented into her field of vision, and she carefully took the razor sharp edge.

"I'm going to get us off-planet," she heard from somewhere behind her, but she couldn't spare the attention to reply. Boot heels ringing on the flooring informed her that she was on her own.

Pinching a fold of the sodden, red-black suit over Obi-Wan's thigh, she nicked an opening in the tough fabric, then slit it rapidly up to the collar to peel it back. Experienced healer or no, she couldn't suppress a gasp when she looked beneath the fabric.

There were bleeding wounds. Small, deadly, deep puncture wounds, more than she dared count. Dark blood welled sullenly from a score of tiny, angry holes on the otherwise colorless skin of his torso. Several were more than pinpoint; raw gaping wounds from which blood still flowed steadily, eagerly, now that the pressure of the close-fitting cold suit was gone. The most horrifying wound was the deep, dark hole in his chest.

Bubbles formed in the wound as Obi-Wan exhaled, accompanied by the moist, gurgling sound Maede had heard earlier. Then the ribcage lifted, the bubbles disappeared, and air was audibly sucked into the chest.

He was panting, breathing at a frightening rate as he struggled to get air in, despite the ruined vacuum compromising his lungs, and his nightmarish sounds were the only ones audible in the silence of the cabin.

Qui-Gon had placed the patches by her hand on the bed. Her bloodstained fingers, made clumsy in her haste, finally cleared one patch of its protective wrappings. She slapped it over the gory hole, and the plasfilm pressed over it, securing it, effectively closing the hole. She felt more than heard Obi-Wan's moan of pain at the pressure she exerted in doing so.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I have to."

Oxygen from a breather was supplied as she tenderly settled the mask over the young Knight's nose and mouth. "Slowly, Obi-Wan. This will help. Things will get better now."

His wide, staring eyes did not acknowledge her reassurance, and held only a reflection of his internal struggle to breathe.

Step one accomplished. she noted. Heartbeat, respiration, hemorrhage control are the big three. We've got two secured for the moment.

The vibrations under her feet informed her that their frantic race had now moved into space.

Hurry, Qui-Gon, she urged mentally. Take us home.

The external bleeding from the smaller wounds was slowing on its own, as the skin had closed behind the projectiles. The bleeding had slowed on the outside, but continued within the tissues; she could see the swollen purple bruising of blood collecting beneath the skin. Those in the muscle would hopefully stop now, and the foreign bodies could be dealt with later.

The larger wounds--those that had penetrated Obi-Wan's chest and abdominal cavities--were another matter. She hastily sealed those that were still bleeding.

One step at a time, she told herself, willing her fingers to stop shaking, willing him to keep breathing. Can't do it all at once. Stop the massive blood loss, then see what we've got.

It took hours, it seemed. Days. Search, wipe, peel, patch, over and over and over. Once she was convinced that the bleeding had at least slowed, she turned her attention to assessing the rest of him.

The last bacta patch was gingerly applied to the gash in the back of his head. Blood had already saturated the pillow, and she pulled the casing free before gently settling his head back on the bed. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open again, wide and panicky and he lay down. He struggled to breathe, struggled against lying flat.

"Obi-Wan? What--"

"--ca brea--" he gasped faintly.

No...oh gods, no, not yet--

"All right," she soothed. "I'll fix it. Try to relax."

Quickly she returned the pillow, gory as it was, to the back of his head, propping him up slightly on the bed. No longer lying flat, his breathing slowed infinitesimally. He sagged back against the pillow, his face blue-white against the soaked-in, smeared blood, and the rusty, flaking patches of blood that had been in place long enough to dry. The wide green eyes in the white face closed.

"Can you hear me?" she asked. She was rewarded with a slight nod. Very slight. "Do you remember what happened?"

No response.

"Obi-wan?" she asked more loudly. "Do you remember how you got hurt?" she asked as she bent to examine his eyes.

"...no..." he mouthed behind the mask.

You knew already, she chided herself. You know that there's a brain injury here. There's no way he could remember.

Yes, but I have to ask. It's procedure. At least he's responsive enough to answer the question. That's good news.

For now, replied the healer voice. But for how long? How close will we get to Coruscant before he slips into unconsciousness? Or fades away due to lack of oxygen or blood loss? I know that it had better be a fast flight home. We've got more than blood loss to worry about. The left pupil is already at six millimeters and getting larger. He's probably bleeding into his brain even now.

Shut up. she hissed at the voice. There's work to do. Chest.

A quick listen to the lungs told her what she already knew. The positive note was that the left lung seemed to have survived relatively unscathed. At least it was functioning at the moment. Perhaps he was turned slightly, with the right side catching more of the flying metal than the left. Perhaps the metal hadn't penetrated as deeply as Maede feared. For whatever reason, the left lung was still trying to perform its function.

The right lung was breached. Ruined. Helpless. Worse, it was slowly filling with blood, as was Obi-Wan's chest. Now that the wound was closed off, the vacuum of the chest was restored, but the lung had only limited room to expand now, with blood pooling there. The blood would slowly fill the chamber, and the lung would collapse. Then its neighbor would start to fail, and it too would collapse. And then Obi-Wan would die, slowly suffocating, drowning internally.

If other breached organs didn't bleed his life away. If the head injury didn't race ahead of them all, causing his brain to swell, or fragile tissue to die under the pressure of unwelcome bleeding inside, where there was no space for such intrusion. If by some miracle he survived that, he'd be brain damaged.

Maede could feel her hands start to tremble with fatigue and the realization that she was inadequately prepared to help him. He needed surgery. He needed skilled Healers to stop the damage. He needed major life support. And what he had was one weary Healer, inexperienced in the field, with bacta patches and pain pills.

Something moved behind her and she whirled, startled to find Qui-Gon's frame filling the doorway to the small chamber. He looked horrible; tired, grim, and soaked with darkened blood.

"Maede," he asked softly, her name a plea for information, but his eyes were on Obi-Wan.

"How long until we reach Coruscant?" she asked.

"Twelve hours. Perhaps a little less." His gaze shifted to lock into hers. She saw the fear there, saw the wordless plea for reassurance. She knew he read the desperation in her own eyes.

"Find a way to fly faster, Qui-Gon," she said softly. "I don't think we have that much time."

Qui-Gon held Maede's gaze for a moment longer, as the meaning behind her words hit home. Without a miracle, Obi-Wan would not live to see Coruscant.

Pushing past her, he stepped across the tiny cubicle to the small bunk where Obi-Wan lay. His eyes were closed, lashes dark against the colorless cheek. Oxygen was being supplied through a mask, the faint hissing informing him that the rate of flow was high. Still, it didn't seem to be having any impact on Obi-Wan's rapid panting as he struggled to take in enough breath.

"Obi-Wan?" he asked softly.

The young Knight did not respond, did not acknowledge his presence. Does he not know I'm here, or does he not dare spare the concentration?

He laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, seeking to be comforted as much as to comfort. The skin was cold under his fingers.

"We will be home with all possible speed. Help is near," he whispered.

Qui-Gon was almost startled when Obi-Wan's eyes opened. Vacant, unfocused, they stared blindly past him, then slowly moved to focus on his face. The green eyes were wide with barely controlled panic, the inborn terror that comes with the feeling of suffocation. Qui-Gon had never before seen such a look in the young man's eyes. It told him far more than any words from the Healer could, and sent terror straight into his heart.

He turned swiftly, finding Maede hovering at his elbow. "Is there nothing more you can do for him?"

"There is much I could do, but it requires equipment and supplies, things Maul simply didn't stock in this ship. Its original design was for mayhem, not healing!" she snapped. "If I could help him, don't you think I would?"

Her pain and helplessness washed over the Master to merge with his own feelings, intensifying them. "What would help? What can I do?"

She gestured shortly. "Find me a miracle. Make this damn ship reach Coruscant in less than an hour."

I've failed him yet again, Qui-Gon reflected. My mission will not simply wound Obi-Wan's soul, but end his life as well? Why do the Council's requests demand so high a price? And why must that price be paid by him?

"It was my mission," he murmured. "He should have let me finish it. This should not have happened."

"You are not responsible for this," Maede refuted softly. "Things simply happen on dangerous missions. You know this better than I."

"I know too much." He turned back to Obi-Wan, noting movement from the bunk. The Knight raised his head slightly as he panted.

At his side in an instant, Maede listened to his lungs again for a moment, then turned back to the tall Jedi hovering at her elbow. "Find me something to prop him up with. It will help him to breathe."

Without a word, Qui-Gon slipped an arm under Obi-Wan's shoulders and gently raised him to a sitting position. Sliding behind him, the Master shoved aside the bloodied pillow and sat with his back against the wall, one long leg still off the side of the narrow bed. The young Knight was settled back against Qui-Gon's chest, with his head against the Master's shoulder, the strong arms supporting him.

Obi-Wan mewled with pain, but cries of pain required air. After the first few attempts, he fell silent. Only the tension in the body he held told Qui-Gon that the Knight was in agony. As he held his former Padawan close, the desperate efforts to breathe eased just a bit, Obi-Wan's panting slowed just a fraction.

"Good," Maede encouraged, on a whisper. "That's good. That will help."

"Will it buy him time?"

"It just might. And I'm going to buy him more." Moving to her meager medkit, she selected something from it. A needle. Long, slender, and wicked-looking.

Something about that her intent alarmed Qui-Gon as she bent over Obi-Wan, her expression grim. "What are you going to do?"

"Help, of course." With that, she plunged the needle deep into the heaving chest, between two of Obi-Wan's ribs. Blood spurted immediately--dark, ugly, spent blood that had not seen oxygen in some time. "If I can evacuate some of this, it will slow down the collapse of the lungs."

"For how long?"

"Not nearly long enough."

Within seconds, the flow through the large needle slowed, and Maede withdrew it carefully. The two Jedi watched in silence for a few moments as Obi-Wan's rasping pant slowed just a bit, the tension in his face easing just a fraction.

Qui-Gon cradled him Padawan close, his cheek resting against the silky, bloodstained hair, his eyes closed as though he were concentrating deeply.

"How long?" he asked softly.

Maede jumped, startled as the deep voice broke the stillness. "How long for what?"

"Until he worsens again."

"Not long," she admitted reluctantly. "No where near long enough. A few minutes only."

Lifting his head, Qui-Gon's gaze found hers. As though making some silent decision, he nodded. "Come, take him."

"Take him?"

"Take my place." He shifted Obi-Wan in his arms and rose stiffly.

Maede slid into the spot he'd vacated, accepting the limp burden in her arms, bearing Obi-Wan's weight against her and letting the wall support them both. His breathing was beginning to quicken again, she noted.

Standing beside the bunk, Qui-Gon hesitated, then reached bloodstained fingers to gently stroke Obi-Wan's cheek, then Maede's before turning away.

"Where are you going?"

"One way or another, I'm going to get us home." His blue eyes were somber. "What I'm planning is risky, Maede. We may all die."

Staring blankly at him for a moment, she seemed to struggle with the implications of his words. "The DNA evidence," she said at last. "That was the primary objective of our mission."

"To hell with the mission," he retorted tersely. "The Council has used us to their own ends without regard to our safety or well-being. Right now, my loyalty is to my Padawan and my only mission is to save his life."

Maede bowed her head, her features momentarily obscured by a curtain of light brown hair. When she lifted her gaze to meet his again, she was smiling grimly.

"I suppose this means I'm a Healer before I'm a Jedi, because I'm not going to argue with you. If we die, then 'home' will be one with the Force." Nodding, she accepted her possible fate and tightened her grip on her patient. "Do what you have to do, Qui-Gon. See us home."

Getting the computations from the navicomp was the easiest part of the operation. Even as the printout scrawled across the small screen, Qui-Gon's mind raced to remember the wormhole theory he'd been taught years ago.

"It's been done before," he remembered one of his Masters saying. "But it's rough on the ship and rough on the passengers, and more than once it's resulted in the dissolution, outside of the space/time continuum, of both."

He'd memorized the formula but had never had cause to need it. Until now. Until he sat contemplating the years he and Obi-Wan had spent together and wished more than anything that he'd had the foresight to refuse the Council's last mission.

I have no desire to live in a world without Obi-Wan, he acknowledged, rubbing at his eyes when they threatened to overflow with tears, blinding him. Either this will work and my Padawan will survive, or the ship will be torn apart and we will all die. Maede, I'm sorry... You never expected this when you agreed to this mission.

Interrupting the hyperdrive, he brought the Infiltrator back into normal space. The drive whined down, protesting the journey interrupted, and Qui-Gon grimaced at the sound, let the ship wallow between the stars while checking their position and adjusting the coordinates accordingly.

I'm sorry, Maul, he shot the thought into the ether, even as his fingers glided over the controls to begin their journey once again. The little ship responded perfectly, answering the Master's commands as though knowing she had to perform, had to ensure their safety and Obi-Wan's arrival eleven hours ahead of schedule.

It should have been impossible--many space travelers said it was, and many more Masters at the Temple said never to try forcing a ship outside of time and space, into the fifth dimension. Traveling through hyperspace meant gliding between the third and fourth dimensions; while travel was faster than lightspeed, outside of space, time was not distorted. What Qui-Gon planned would move the little ship outside of time as well.

Envision time and space as a long line within the Force of the universe, he remembered his lessons. We leap out of that line, travel beside it, and leap back in at will, wherever. Your calculations must be flawless, and so must your courage and focus to make the journey. Having a solid little ship doesn't hurt, either.

He was confident of his calculations. The one uncertainty was the Infiltrator. He prayed that Maul had built the vessel, not Sidious.

The little ship picked up speed, shot suddenly into hyperspace, and banked left and down, roughly. Qui-Gon slammed home the commands to move out of the regular continuum and into the world between worlds the Infiltrator needed to travel. The star field streaked sideways and the ship's engines screamed. Shuddering, she began shaking in earnest, her shields dissolving against the onslaught to leave them unprotected.

Wrapping his fingers around the armrests, Qui-Gon gritted his teeth and held on. Closing his eyes, he reached out with the Force, tried to steady the ship, and was slammed back in his chair for his trouble.

I can do this myself! was the message he swore the little ship was sending, as independent and determined as her former owner even when her plates and engines screamed a protest against the demands being made on them.

The Master watched the readouts closely, had no choice but to ignore the ion mix in the engines moving steadily into the red zone. Unguided within the confines of time now, they were unstable and volatile; one miscalculation, and they'd blow.

The journey was lasting far too long for Qui-Gon's liking, and he thought that even if they succeeded in reaching their destination, the shuddering of the ship alone might finish off Obi-Wan. Wiping sweat from his brow, the Master shoved forward another lever as the chronometer told him it was time. Banking right, the ship streaked back into the hyperspace continuum and wailed.

Alarms sounded all across the control board: the shields were dead, one engine was out, and a rear thruster would never fire again. But she had two left, and as she fell from hyperspace into Coruscant’s gravity field, and Qui-Gon fired them to slow their descent, he thought he'd never seen anything sweeter than the sunlight blinding him from Coruscant's skyscrapers.

A citizen transport wailed a warning just before he yanked the little ship into the proper lane. Yes, I know you're unaccustomed to having ships fall from the sky, almost atop you.

He almost laughed to see the Temple spires beckoning to him. Glancing at the chronometer, he saw that the entire journey had taken ten minutes. He was shaking so badly, he could scarcely breathe, much less talk as he contacted the landing tower, stated their emergency, and felt almost giddy to hear that a trauma team would be sent to landing bay six-ten, if he would be so kind as to meet them there.

The life support systems failed just as he was landing the ship. Pressure equalized--barely--as the hydraulic system feeding the remaining engine and the anti-grav units failed. If it had blown only a few seconds before, they'd have fallen to their deaths on Coruscant's streets.

Your ship got us home, Maul, he reflected, his hands shaking as they stroked the controls the former Sith's fingers had danced across. Thank you. I'll make sure she flies again.

Cutting the fuel supply to the engines, he secured the moorings, then strode back to the small chamber housing Maede and Obi-Wan.

The healer's face was pale, her arms wrapped tightly around Obi-Wan as she stared up at Qui-Gon.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice quiet and trembling. It had been a rough ride for them as well, and she'd been blind as to what had been happening.

"Coruscant," he replied shortly, sliding his arms beneath Obi-Wan to lift and carry him out of the room. "Please open the door."

She hurried past him in the narrow corridor, slapped a hand against the lever and yanked. The door opened, the gangway slid out, and Qui-Gon traveled it impatiently, only to leap onto the service deck before the gangway was fully extended. The trauma team hadn't arrived, and Qui-Gon didn't wait for them. Striding quickly toward the Temple, he left Maede behind and dancing foot to foot as she waited for the extension to reach solid ground.

"You brought us a miracle," she whispered, shaking her head at the Jedi's retreating back. "I don't know how you did it, Jinn, but I love you for it." Finally able to jump down onto the deck, she ran to catch up.

Qui-Gon was wasting no time, his long stride stretched to the utmost, pausing only long enough to back into the temple doors, slamming them open to rebound against the wall with an echoing crash. Edging inside, taking care that his precious burden didn't knock against the doorframe, he stepped within the Temple proper and threw himself into motion. His long stride was stretched to the utmost as he hurtled through corridors, brutally shouldering aside any who hadn't taken notice of his approach.

Those who had could only stare in astonishment as a tall man in a blood-soaked coldsuit bore down on them, cradling the nearly naked, bloody, and apparently dead body of another man. It was only once he'd passed them that they recognized Jinn and Kenobi.

Maede ran. Abandoned decorum and pelted down the corridor after him. If she lost sight of him, she'd never catch up. Qui-Gon knew this Temple in ways she didn't, could work his way through the convoluted passageways at speed. She could always travel the paths she knew and hope to meet him at the healers wing, but she knew he'd be there long before her, and she couldn't bear to be left behind. And so she ran. The astonished expressions of those she passed assured her that she wasn't far behind him.

She heard voices ahead of her. Startled voices, Qui-Gon's deep rumble. Rounding a corner, she finally recognized her location: the Med center was just ahead of her. Panting, Maede staggered around one last bend in the corridor to see Qui-Gon's broad back, and Healers gathering around him. Finally, they ended their frantic flight in the sweet sanctuary of the healing arts, with blessed equipment, skilled hands, and the means to help their dying friend. Maede was ready to weep with relief, but she couldn’t afford that luxury yet. There was still work to be done. This was only the beginning.

Maul paced the confines of the tiny, sterile cell, stalking around and around, examining each wall for some hint of a weakness, but there was nothing. The door was tightly sealed, so well integrated that it appeared almost invisible from the inside, only faint grooves marking its outline. The other three walls, the ceiling and the floor were solid, almost seamless metal. Cold. Blank. A most effective prison with no hope for escape.

It was perhaps three feet square, and there was nothing in it: no food slot, no bunk, no accommodations whatsoever, just an empty cell. He knew what that meant.

Sidious had always distinguished between two types of prisoners: long term and temporary. The long term prisoners, those he wanted kept alive for questioning or torture or both, were given large cells with the necessary facilities. The cells were not comfortable, but they were habitable.

Temporary prisoners, those he intended to execute right away with or without the pleasure of torturing them first, were remanded to cells like the one Maul was in.

Maul straightened his shoulders and stared at the closed door, silently daring it to open, for his former Master to begin their confrontation. No doubt Sidious thought he was adding to Maul's torment by prolonging the wait, but Maul had resigned himself to his fate the moment he was captured. He had known when he went down beneath a sea of drone troopers that he was dead. No matter if it happened at the hands of the clone troops or Sidious himself, the result would be the same.

Briefly, he lowered his shields, reaching out to Obi-Wan, but all he could feel on the other end of the bond was Obi-Wan's life-presence, nothing more. Obi is still unconscious, then, he thought. But he is still alive. Perhaps in the hands of the Temple Healers by now. He will live. And Master Jinn will take care of him.

He raised his shields again, weaving them so tightly around himself that when Obi awoke, if he tried to reach Maul, he wouldn't be able to sense what was happening. He didn't want any taint from Sidious to reach Obi, not even indirectly, and he didn't want his mate to know what was going to happen to him.

Good-bye, my one.

With that final thought of Obi-Wan, Maul sank to his knees, closed his eyes and began to meditate, calming and centering himself to face Sidious when he finally arrived.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours; remaining in a peaceful state of non-thought, Maul allowed time to slip away from him, rising slowly from his meditative state only when he felt Darkness curling around the edges of his perception and knew it meant Sidious was approaching.

He rose to his feet with graceful fluidity and stood in the center of the cell, waiting, his face carefully blank. Sidious would not find him easy to break.

A moment later, the door slid open, and a black-robed figure loomed in the entrance. A dark miasma seemed to flow from the Sith Lord, filling the tiny cell, surrounding Maul to the point of oppression.

"So you have returned to me, my young apprentice." Sidious' voice was filled with hateful glee, but Maul simply gazed at him dispassionately.

"I have returned, but not to you." His voice was as soft and calm as always, and he could sense the displeasure tingeing Sidious' aura at that response.

"But you are mine now, nonetheless." He clasped his pale hands, rubbing them as if in anticipation. "I have waited for this moment a long time," he informed Maul silkily. "I have made plans. Many plans. And I intend to implement as many as possible in the time remaining to us."

To show fear to Sidious would please him. To show defiance would be met with scorn and mockery. Maul was determined to show nothing, watching his former Master warily, waiting for the first strike. He knew Sidious was capable of anything, would do anything to break his victims. He also knew that Sidious would be even more cunning and relentless because this wasn't business. This was personal. Maul had betrayed him, and he would have his revenge one way or another.

But still Sidious remained standing in the doorway, the only obstacle between Maul and a chance for escape, and still he did nothing. Maul wasn't fooled. If Sidious thought to lure him into attacking, he was wrong.

"I have missed you, Maul," he said at last, his tone jarringly conversational considering the tableau they were in.

"You have the clone replacements of me."

The Sith Lord waved dismissively. "The cloning technique is still being perfected. They're all flawed..." He paused, then added, "But then so are you." There were claws lurking beneath his velvet tone, and Maul braced himself.

It had begun.

Qui-Gon wasn't pacing, but he had his training to thank for that. Outwardly, he appeared calm and controlled as he waited outside of the trauma center while the Healers examined Obi-Wan, but inside, he was shaking. The grimness he'd seen on Maede's face the entire way back from Naboo hadn't helped, nor had the words he'd overheard from those tending Obi-Wan. Words like "paralysis," "retardation" and "dying." Maede had emerged from the busy room to offer an update a few minutes ago.

"He's in the hands of our best," she told him, glancing back into the room. "The collapsed lung and shrapnel wounds will have to wait a bit longer. He's bleeding into the brain, so they're taking him into surgery and fixing that first. They're letting me assist, but really, I'm not doing much except watching and staying out of the way. I wish I could do more, but this goes far beyond my experience and expertise."

She had frowned and shrugged in a way that showed her frustration with her own inability to be of more help. Qui-Gon had touched her shoulder.

"You kept him alive until we got here," he had reminded her. "You've done enough."

She had smiled gratefully at him, had disappeared again, and he had remained where he was, waiting....

Far too soon for the surgery to have been completed, the doors slid open and Maede walked through. From the weary slump of her shoulders and downcast expression, Qui-Gon thought for one horrifying moment that she had come to give him the worst possible news; he felt his entire world freeze until she mustered a little smile and he began to breathe again, realizing she was exhausted, not grieving.

"They were about to anesthetize him when he asked to talk to you. No, make that he asked frantically to talk to you."

If it wouldn't have shattered his dignity as a Jedi Master, if he hadn't needed her as a guide to show him exactly where Obi-Wan was, he would have broken into a run to get to his Padawan's side, even if he'd knocked over Maede--and whoever else got in his way--in the process.

Instead, he followed sedately behind her, hiding the quiver in his hands by tucking them in the sleeves of his robe, which led to him clenching his fists around the fabric as soon as he saw Obi-Wan. The young man was chalk white, his eyes were sunken and shadowed. He looked... fragile... was the only apt word Qui-Gon could find, and it was a word he had never associated with his Padawan before. But as weak as Obi-Wan appeared to be, he had enough strength to try and smile.

Qui-Gon approached his bed and carefully took Obi-Wan's hand in one of his, squeezing it gently. He cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't come out as wobbly as he feared it would.

"Padawan..." he began, and then trailed off, not knowing what else to say. There was too much to say, and not enough time, and this wasn't the place, not with the Healers hovering protectively nearby, clearly anxious to get underway.

"Y'r safe," Obi-Wan gasped, and Qui-Gon was stricken to the core, humbled that his Padawan was thinking not of his own life but of the safety of his former Master--and the man who had all but shunned him after an absence of two years. He must have noted Qui-Gon's expression because he immediately added, "I knew--"

"Shh, don't try to talk--"

"Tell you--" He closed his eyes, seeming to be gathering his strength.

"Tell me what, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked softly, leaning down to set his ear close to the young Knight's lips, as whispering took far less effort.

"Maul..." The young Knight swallowed hard, his breath growing more rapid, more shallow. "C'n feel him... 'live."

"You're sure?"

"Bond...there."

There. Not gone, not broken, which means Maul is still alive. Lifting Obi-Wan's hand, he pressed it against his bearded cheek. "I'll go back for him, Obi-Wan, I promise. Now off you go, to let the Healers do their work."

"Yes, Ms'tr. Love you." Exhausted and in agony, Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

"I love you, too, my Padawan. Be strong."

Qui-Gon watched silently as the Healers wheeled Obi-Wan away, peripherally aware of Maede coming to stand by his side. As the gurney carrying the young Knight disappeared behind closed doors, she curled her fingers around Qui-Gon's elbow and glanced up at him.

"What did he tell you?"

"That the bond with Maul hasn't broken; that Maul is still alive."

"Back to Naboo?" she asked quietly, and the Jedi Master nodded tersely.

"If he is still alive, it's only because Sidious wants him alive," he replied grimly. "For now, anyway."

With that, Qui-Gon turned and strode away, until he realized that Maede was right on his heels. In response to his questioning look, she simply shrugged.

"You'll need me. If Maul is in Sidious' hands right now, the hundred little gods alone know what's being done to him. Just let me get more supplies, and we'll be ready to go."

Reluctantly, he nodded. "We'll need a new ship. I'll tend to that while you gather your supplies. Do you still have your communicator?"

Checking her belt, she nodded and only then realized what a sight they must appear: still dressed in bloodied coldsuits, standing in the middle of the Temple corridor. "I've got it."

"I need to contact the Council about this. I'll let you know in a short while where to meet me."

"I'll be there. And if you're seeing the Council, tell them that the DNA evidence they asked us to provide is safe in the security cooler at Med."

"I will."

As if in silent accord, they both paused, their eyes meeting for a moment. Something fragile and elusive passed between them, holding them in place, and then Maede spoke as if in answer to an unspoken question, breaking the spell.

"We'll get there in time." Her voice was harder and colder than he had ever heard it before, edged with determination.

"We have to."

And then he was gone, long legs eating up the distance between him and that new ship. As much as he disliked the idea of taking the Healer back into such a dangerous situation, he had little choice. She was right: Maul would undoubtedly need a Healer, and Qui-Gon couldn't pilot the ship and tend a wounded, perhaps dying, Jedi by himself.

Sidious paced forward slowly, the door silently sliding shut behind him. With smooth, even steps, he circled Maul, not touching him, then stopped to face him once more.

"How could I have failed so completely?" Reaching out, he stroked Maul's cheek, and Maul flinched away from that icy touch, a cruel parody of a lover's caress. "There was a time, my young apprentice, when you didn't refuse me." He grabbed Maul's chin, forcing the younger man to meet his eyes. "Remember?" His voice was a sibilant hiss, a subtle push of Force suggestion behind it that brought the memories back unbidden, and Maul repressed a shudder, clinging to his impassivity.

Tendrils of Force energy wound around him, binding him as effectively as any rope; summoning his own strength, he struggled against the encroaching dark ties, but Sidious was a Master, and a powerful one at that, and Maul's resistance only made the Sith Lord chuckle softly.

"And now, you have things to tell me," Sidious announced--and Maul felt the first Force-probe worming its way into his mind.

"NO!" He reinforced his shields, summoning every ounce of will power to keep the Master at bay; in manipulation of the Force physically, he might not be a match for Sidious, but his mental strength was prodigious, a fact his former Master probably underestimated.

Sidious took an involuntary step backwards, then advanced again quickly, his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "You will not be able to keep me out, Maul. I may not have all the time I would wish to enjoy your company, but I assure you I have more than enough time to break your mind."

"You may try," Maul replied calmly. He would not allow Sidious into his mind without a fight, even if it meant destroying his own sanity in the process. At least that would leave him useless to the Sith.

The assault began again, this time with doubled intensity, and Sidious wasted neither time nor effort on speech, concentrating his focus on chiseling away at any weakness in Maul's shields. He began weaving a random pattern of breaking off, waiting and then attacking again unexpectedly; Maul didn't dare relax for a moment, not knowing when the barrage would begin anew, and the strain wore at his strength as Sidious had probably known it would.

"Tell me about the Jedi," Sidious invited, his voice almost soothing.

Beads of sweat rolled down Maul's face, stinging his eyes and burning his lips as he stood frozen, wavering under the mental assault. "They have a library..."

"Fool! I don't care about that! Tell me--"

"... Vast archive... many artifacts... prototypes of commlinks... holoviewers... lightsabers..."

"I want information!"

"... Master Yoda teaches supplementary classes... botany and..." He struggled to keep talking, focusing on the most trivial aspects of Temple life he could think of--anything to keep Sidious from the knowledge he had of the Order. And of Obi-Wan. If Sidious found out about his lover, he would use their bond against Maul, and perhaps even against Obi if he could. "And primitive life forms... interesting, but... difficult to take notes..."

"Enough of this foolishness!" Sidious barked. "Give me the truth! You hate me, do you not? Give in to that hate, Maul. Rise up, use it to strike me down."

"Anger leads to hatred... hatred leads to the Dark side..." The words were a protective litany, keeping Sidious' influence back, but after what could have been minutes or hours of mental battery, the Sith Lord changed tactics.

"Come back to me." He was wheedling now, cajoling. "I will never find another like you, my apprentice... my son."

Honeyed words, but Maul knew better than to believe them. Bitterness lay beneath--bitterness and deceit.

"You were no father to me... You are no longer my Master... I renounced you... I will not return."

With a fierce snarl, Sidious pushed deeper into Maul's mind, plucking at memories, trying to find information he could exploit, but Maul focused his concentration on inconsequential things, showing only how every flower in the Garden of Harmonious Colors unfurled their petals as the sun rose, how the early lightsaber prototypes were housed safely under protective cases, how the air in the practice rooms always seemed to feel humid even on cold days.

"Is this how they lured you away from me?" the Sith hissed. "Offering you such sensual luxury? The galaxy could have been at your feet had you remained by my side!"

"No..." Maul forced the words out through clenched teeth. "The galaxy would have been at your feet... and so would I..."

Nodding, Sidious studied him carefully. "You wanted more power? Is that it? You went to the wrong place, did you not? The Jedi are as weak as I told you they were, and now you are as weak as they."

"Strong enough... to do this."

Suddenly, Maul reached out and grabbed the Force-probe coiling around his mind, ignoring the slimy, repugnant feel of it, yanking it forward, deeper into an area that Sidious had taken care to avoid--the Light. As soon as the tendril of dark influence touched the brightness, Sidious cried out, recoiling physically and mentally, but Maul held on, pulling him deeper and deeper into the Light, as relentless now as Sidious had been.

"You see?" His voice gained strength as he called on the Force to sustain him. "This is what I have gained by leaving you. The Jedi did not give it to me, I found it for myself, and they have helped nurture it. This is what you kept me from."

Reeling backwards, Sidious pulled himself free of Maul's mental grasp and glared balefully at him. "You will pay for that, Maul. And I shall enjoy exacting the price."

Once the course back to Naboo had been charted and they were safely underway, Qui-Gon put the ship on auto-pilot and rose from the pilot's chair; glancing down at the console for one last check, he idly ran his hands over the cool metal. Mace Windu had offered his own private transport the moment Qui-Gon had revealed the outcome of the mission and their need to return to Naboo.

"It has a well-equipped medical bay, Qui-Gon," Mace had said quietly, with Yoda nodding his agreement. "All it should need is for Healer Maede to get on board."

Nodding, the Master had left the chamber, stunned at Windu's offer. You've got one of the most powerful Council members on your side, Maul. Deeply impressed with your courage, your strength and your honor, he very much wants you to survive. So do I. Hang on a little longer, help is on its way.

Swallowing hard, he studied the star field now streaking beyond the cockpit windows. Two members of his team were down, one possibly dying--or worse--in surgery, one possibly dead already, and he was leading the third back into what could very well be a suicide mission.

Qui-Gon lifted a shaky hand, raked it through his hair as he left the cockpit and wished that he could put his mind and body on auto-pilot as easily as he had done the ship. But such a luxury wasn't his. He kept thinking, kept remembering how deathly still Obi-Wan had been during the journey back to Coruscant, how pale and fragile he had looked going into surgery, how desperately Maul had fought to survive even as he had demanded that they leave him behind and give his mate a chance to live. Images danced behind the Master's eyes, and he fought to control the rising fear. He was still the leader of this ill-fated mission, he still had to function.

Heedless of his surroundings, he bumped his shoulder against a bulkhead wall and then, feeling too weighted down by grief and guilt, he slumped against it and let gravity carry him to the floor. There he sat, unmoving.

"Qui-Gon?"

Too wrapped up in his own pain to be aware of much else, he hadn't sensed Maede's approach. He only knew that she was there when she touched his shoulder and spoke. Wordlessly, he rolled his head to one side so that he could look at her. Something in his face or his eyes must have alarmed her, because she immediately sat down next to him and slipped her arms around his shoulders.

Once, he might have dismissed her, but not now. He couldn't. He didn't have the strength or the desire to send her away. Instead, he leaned into her embrace, seeking the comfort she offered. But somehow, it wasn't enough. There was too much pressure building up inside of him.

"It's my fault, you know," he said at last, his voice laden with remorse. "If Obi-Wan dies, if Maul dies, it'll be my fault. I led them to Naboo. I was supposed to protect them, and I failed."

Maede shook her head, gazing at him with compassion-filled eyes. "No."

"Yes," he growled a retort. "I was the one in charge of the mission... It's my duty to keep Obi-Wan safe. Instead, I let him almost get himself killed trying to get me out of danger."

He broke off and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push away the sight of his Padawan sprawled on the floor of the compound, his life flowing away on a tide of blood.

"What if he dies, Maede?" he whispered. "What if I lose him again? I had to leave him once, and it nearly killed me. I can't bear to lose him again, not now, not so soon. We just re-connected, and I can't--"

He broke off, his throat closing up too tightly for him to speak, and he wrapped his arms around her more tightly instead, burying his face against her neck so she couldn't see the tears spilling down his cheeks.

Maede let him cling to her, not speaking, just holding him close and stroking his hair. He could hardly believe his own reactions--he was supposed to be the strong one, dammit! The one others turned to for comfort and support, not the one who broke down and wept in someone's arms. But he was tired... so tired... and he had hurt so much for so long.

At last his grief ran its course, and his body gradually stopped shaking as the tears dried up. Limp with fatigue, emotionally and mentally numb, he simply slid down until he was curled up beside her, his head in her lap. She stacked her legs to provide a more comfortable cushion for him and smoothed the hair back from his damp face.

"Listen to me, please?" she murmured, bending to press a kiss at his temple. "Obi could have been injured like this on any number of missions, with or without you. It's the chance every Jedi takes every time he or she accepts a mission. Your Padawan has been a full Knight for over two years, but even if he were still your Padawan, the responsibility wouldn't be all yours. He knows the risks, Qui-Gon. He's known them since he was a child just beginning his training. Besides..." She squeezed his shoulder gently. "If your positions had been reversed, what would you have done? Left him there to fend for himself, or used your own knowledge of droidekas to save him--just as he did for you?"

The Jedi Master grimaced, but he had to acknowledge the point. He would have done exactly the same thing Obi-Wan had.

"You're not responsible for what happens--not to any of us," she added pointedly, and he understood that she was including herself. "Maul knew what would happen to him if Sidious captured him, and Obi risked his life to save the life of the Master he loves. Our choices are our own. We all had a choice to accept this mission, and we all said yes," she told him softly. "We're Jedi first. Risking our lives for those who can't defend themselves is part of who we are."

He knew that: it was wrapped around the core of his being as well, it had defined him for as long as he could remember. But it didn't stop him from being terrified at the thought of losing the most beloved person in his life.

Maede sifted her fingers through the Master's hair, hoping her touch was soothing, even if only a little bit. She wasn't surprised that he had broken down; what surprised her is that he hadn't done so before now. After all he had been through, all he'd had to deal with before and after his return to the Temple, it was no wonder he had reached his limit. He needed rest, he needed peace, he needed a break from pressure and tension, but there was no chance of that happening any time soon.

Gently, she nudged his shoulders, urging him to sit up. "You need to sleep," she said as she helped him sit and then to stand up. He let her, seeming too numb to do much but follow her lead. "Come on."

She led him to the larger cabin that they had shared on the previous trip, but instead of following him inside, she stopped at the door and turned away as if to leave. To her surprise, he snaked his hand out and closed his fingers around her slender wrist. She had intended to give him some time alone if he wanted it.

"I was going to take the smaller cabin," she explained. "Give you some time alone, if you wanted it."

He shook his head. "Please."

One word, but it contained a wealth of meaning. He needed her, and there was no possible way she could refuse him. Not as a Healer and certainly not as a woman.

Once they were inside the cabin, he began to undress wearily, his movements almost robotic as he stripped away the bloodied cold suit. Turning away from him, she quickly did the same, feeling a little more awkward and shy than she had the first time. Then, they had treated each other with professional distance, but things had changed that night, and she couldn't go back to that former remoteness. Oh, no. Her awareness of him was far too keen now.

When she had folded her things and turned to the bed, she found that he was already settled, lying on his side facing the door, his eyes closed. She sat on the edge of the bed, studying his face for a moment and wishing she could somehow ease the lines of tension she saw there. Reaching out, she brushed her hand across his cheek, concentrating Force-energy into the touch, and he sighed deeply.

"Just relax now," she murmured, wrapping Force-suggestion around her words. "Rest. Gather your strength for tomorrow."

As she spoke, she let her fingers wander over his features, tracing the length of that oddly attractive broken nose and the contour of his full lower lip, smoothing his hair back from his face--a number of little touches meant to be comforting and to help ease him into sleep.

Gradually, his breathing deepened, and she sensed he was on the verge of drifting off. Only then did she slip beneath the covers next to him and lie with her back to him to give him space--only to find herself being pulled close. Rousing enough to wrap his arm around her waist, he closed the distance between them. With another, more contented-sounding sigh, he nestled against her back and sank back into sleep.

Under almost any other circumstances, she would have found the idea of sleeping in Qui-Gon Jinn's arms, her body snuggled against his the entire night, a delightful one. But the circumstances they were in now weren't conducive to such pleasant thoughts. Maybe later, when this mission was over, but now... no. This wasn't the time nor the place to indulge her fancy.

She lay still, listening to him breathe and reaching out with her Force sense to monitor his heartrate. It wasn't until she sensed that he was fully and deeply asleep that she closed her eyes and let herself drift off as well.

The pain stopped.

Maul tried to draw in a deep, steadying breath, but even the slightest movement hurt too much, and so he lay still, waiting.

The pain had stopped, but he didn't think it was over. He didn't dare. Countless times, Sidious had pulled back, and Maul had been relieved: Now he will kill me. Now he will let me die.

But Sidious had not.

Shackled by Dark Force energy, struggling to ward off the evil as it tried to wind its way into his mind and taint the Light, he had been unable to fight both a physical and mental battle. Sidious had bound him and then began an assault designed to hurt and humiliate him as much as possible, stripping the young Knight of every shred of dignity and control.

Let it end... Maul had begged, silently so that Sidious couldn't hear it.

But it had not.

His mind was as battered and violated as his body by the time Sidious released him from the Force-bonds, and he collapsed at the Sith's feet, incapable of rising to defend himself even when he had a moment of freedom. He was vaguely aware of rough hands grabbing him, lifting him, and then he was being carried out of the cell. Closing his eyes, he let himself drift away, no longer caring what happened to him. Sidious had stopped asking questions; either he was so enraptured by the damage he was inflicting that he didn't care about the answers any longer, or he had decided trying to pry information from Maul was futile.

He didn't resist as he was placed on a cold metal table with seemingly random holes cut into its surface; whoever had carried him took care to arrange his hands palm-upward near his sides, but otherwise, he was not held in place by the Force or more conventional methods of restraint. Perhaps Sidious thought he was no longer a threat. And, Maul thought wearily, he was right.

Cracking his eyes open, he stared up and saw something suspended over him--a large metal construction that was shaped roughly like the lid of a sarcophagus. Lining the underside were spikes of various lengths, and he closed his eyes again, understanding now how Sidious planned to kill him.

Slowly.

A mechanical hum let him know that the device had been activated, and when he looked up again, he saw the metal shell was being lowered. Closer... closer... He closed his eyes again, trying to clear his mind as he awaited the inevitable. A fresh wave of pain washed over him as the longest spikes pierced his hands and ankles and fitted themselves into a set of the holes, pinning him to the table; the next-longest spikes nudged just below his collarbones.

Nothing vital would be impaled at first, but the shell would be lowered in slow, gradual increments, and with each new drop, each level of spikes would come nearer. He felt his strength ebbing as his blood flowed from the wounds and pooled beneath him. Nearly delirious from pain and shock, his shields thinned, and he found himself instinctively reaching out to Obi before he regained enough presence of mind to pull back.

But that one touch was enough. He felt Obi's response along their bond, and relief flooded him even in the midst of his pain. His mate was alive.

Help on the way!

He had raised his shields again, not wanting Obi to sense any part of what was happening, but a thin fragment of thought slipped through, and Maul froze, wondering if he had really heard it or merely imagined it. Cautiously, he lowered his shields just enough to be able to hear Obi again.

Maul, hold on, beloved, Obi's silent voice was tinged with desperation as if he were sending thoughts along their bond by rote, hoping something would eventually get through. Qui-Gon and Maede are on the way. Don't leave me. You promised you'd never leave me.

Never... Maul allowed himself the luxury of one brief response before slamming his shields all the way up again, protecting Obi from the nightmare he was living.

He had indeed promised. Once, what seemed like long ago, in an abandoned building on Coruscant, he had promised he would never leave Obi-Wan, not during that battle, not for the rest of his life. He would not break that promise. He would not allow Sidious to tear them apart.

And with that, a spark of defiance lit and burned steadily within him again.

Calling on the Force for strength, he tried to calm himself. Obi had said Qui-Gon and Maede were on the way, but it was a long journey, and he didn't know when they would arrive. If the shell kept pressing down, they would arrive too late no matter how much Maul wanted--intended--to stay alive.

Relentlessly, the spikes bore down on him until only the shortest of them remained, the ones which would pierce his eyes, vital abdominal organs and his heart, killing him at last.

But even as he felt the sharp tip of the spike poised over his heart begin to bite into his flesh, the hum of machinery stopped, then started again, only to raise the metal shell instead of continuing to lower it.

"Time grows short," Sidious' voice floated to him; dazed, he could barely comprehend the words. "The life support systems are failing all over the compound thanks to your friends. We have no more time to play together." He paused, then chuckled maliciously. "What a pity."

The spikes slid smoothly out of his body, and the blood began to flow more freely, making him feel even weaker and more light-headed. Once again, he was lifted by the clone troopers and carried away. It wasn't long before a blast of freezing cold air let him know he was being taken outside. Once they were beyond the walls of the fortress--or what remained of them after his and Obi's explosive handiwork--the troopers dumped him the snow. Idly he watched as the pure white drifts were stained with red.

"It has been a pleasure being with you again, Maul," Sidious said, raising his voice to make it heard over the howling wind. "Regretfully, I could not let the pleasure last any longer. There are limits, after all. Bodies are so fragile, my young apprentice," he commented, his smile one of pure malice.

He gestured almost casually, and Maul found himself being lifted by the Sith's Force energy again, lifted and carried to a cliff where it held him upright, suspended on the edge where icy ground turned to air.

"Even yours."

The Force energy slithered away from him, leaving him teetering precariously. A slight Force-nudge, and his balance was gone.

Maul wavered, then fell backwards, silently tumbling into the abyss.

Qui-Gon hadn't bothered to tell Mace Windu that he planned to use the same wormhole mode of travel getting back to Naboo that he'd used to get home to Coruscant. Time was a luxury he was sure that Maul simply did not have. And so, after only a scant few hours of sleep, with Maede strapped in tight beside him and her fingers white where they gripped the armrests of the co-pilot's chair, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and grounded.

I am a Jedi Master; I can do this, came the litany. Setting aside his insecurities and terrors, Qui-Gon set his jaw and shoved the coordinates down the navi-comp's electronic port to strip time and space once more, and turn hours into minutes.

"Twelve minutes," he clipped, wrapping distance and professionalism around himself as tightly as the new coldsuit had wrapped round his limbs. His fingers danced over the controls, stopping their freefall through Naboo's atmosphere and checking the heat reading on the skin of the ship. If it were any other circumstances, he'd have felt pleased that he'd managed to keep engines and thrusters intact. But not this trip.

Reaching out through the Force as they once again approached the desolate mountaintop housing Sidious' fortress, Qui-Gon was startled to feel nothing of the dark presence he'd come to know as clearly as Obi-Wan's own Force imprint.

"He's gone."

"What?" Maede yelped. "Maul's gone?"

The Master shook his head. "Not Maul. Sidious. I can't feel him."

"What about Maul?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.

"We shall find out in a few minutes."

Cloaking the ship once more, he brought her down to land on a narrow expanse of snowdrifts and ice just short of the back wall of the fortress. Repeating the process they'd been through only a few hours before, Qui-Gon preceded Maede from the ship, walking out onto a transparent gangway and stopping at what the Healer assumed was its base, presumably to get his bearings.

Long seconds passed, but Qui-Gon didn't move.

"What's wrong?" she whispered.

"Do you feel that?"

"I don't feel anything."

"Exactly." He nodded. "Everyone's gone. I have no sense of them. Proceed with caution: I don't like this."

He took a few more steps forward, only to pause again and lift his head, like a seltin scenting the wind. Pivoting slowly, he paced across the crunching snow only to kneel dangerously at the very edge of the cliff.

"Someone's down there."

"I know," Maede murmured, pacing behind him and staring at the blood smeared in the snow. "But how they could survive a fall like that...."

"They're alive. So far."

He made his way back to the ship, with Maede in hot pursuit. "How do you know it's Maul?"

"I don't. But who else would Sidious throw over a cliff?"

She had no answer to that. Following him onto the ship, she watched him yank grappling hooks and rope from a below-deck storage space.

"Surely there's a safer way."

Wordlessly, he shook his head. Leaving the ship again, he felt his way to the rear of the ship, ran his hands over invisible girders, and set two hooks against what Maede presumed were landing struts.

"Force be with us," she breathed as he wrapped the harness around himself and began backing toward the cliff.

Feeding out the rope, he tested pulleys and tension, seeming to ignore her totally as he concentrated on the job at hand.

"What do I do?" she asked as he slammed a hook just beyond the edge of the cliff and made sure his boots had purchase on the hard ice.

"You wait."

Qui-Gon lowered himself as quickly as he could, reaching out to the Living Force, asking it to guide him to whatever spark of life still existed, however tenuously, on the side of the barren cliff. Repelling downward, he overshot the ledge containing that spark, had to lift himself back up and crawl over the ledge.

The man lay huddled with his face against the cliff, trying to protect himself from the wind raging around him. Even from behind, there was no mistaking his identity; at this close range, his Force signature, weak as it was, let Qui-Gon know he had found Maul.

Kneeling beside him, Qui-Gon gently turned him over and rocked back to see the wounds that had long since ceased oozing blood. Maul's face--what could be seen beneath a mask of bruises--was pale, but other than puncture wounds along his arms and legs, he didn't appear to be visibly injured. Qui-Gon didn't let that give him a false sense of hope about the extent of his injuries. The moan of pain Maul uttered at being moved said more than any words could. He could see blood frozen into what looked like dark crystals around the edges of those unusual punctures, and that reminded him of the danger from hypothermia; there was no way of telling how long Maul had been there or how much damage he had taken from the impact on top of what injuries Sidious caused, no matter if he had been able to use the Force to cushion the blow. He might not have been in any condition to do that at all. Laying a gloved hand across the Knight's forehead, Qui-Gon spoke close to his ear.

"We're here. Everything will be all right."

Eyelashes fluttered open. A rasping breath was drawn. "Obi--"

"He'll be fine. Let's get you home."

Qui-Gon was loath to hurt Maul further, but was left little choice when it came to getting him back up the cliff. Kneeling, he gathered the limp frame against him, hugged him close and extended the harness so that it held both of them.

"Keep yourself draped over my shoulder if you can," he instructed quietly, as Maul's shallow, erratic breathing continued close to his ear.

"Yessss," he managed, barely conscious and very much a dead weight against Qui-Gon. Leaning back in the harness, the Jedi Master began the muscle-straining task of working the ropes and pulleys to complete their journey.

It took far too long for Qui-Gon's liking, and he fully expected the injured Knight to have breathed his last by the time they reached the top of the cliff, but at long last he was kneeling on solid ground, was letting Maede unharness him, was letting her help him carry Maul back to the ship.

"Look at what he did to you..." She exchanged a glance with Qui-Gon, who panted back at her. "If this is what we can see, Qui-Gon..."

"What can't we see?" He nodded. "To the ship. Now."

"You'll be all right." Maede smoothed her hand gently down Maul's cheek before turning away and drawing Qui-Gon to the other side of the cabin. He could see the worry in her light brown eyes as he gazed down intently at her.

"Gods..." She raked her fingers through her hair, making the unruly waves fall in even more disarray. "There's so much... I don't even know where to begin. There's internal bruising with possible bleeding as well, those punctures, broken bones... no, shattered bones... risk of hypothermia... I need at least two other Healers and an operating room, and he needs to be on Coruscant now, just as badly as Obi-Wan did!"

Qui-Gon rested his hands on her shoulders, hoping the gesture would calm and soothe her. She had helped fight to save Obi-Wan and seen him through his own dark night of the soul; now she was struggling to save Maul on the heels of all that, and the strain was beginning to take its toll.

"How can I help?" he offered quietly, having seen the ship off of Naboo and into hyperspace. But Maede had informed him in no uncertain terms that their passenger was too damaged internally to survive the rough journey home that he'd inflicted upon Obi-Wan. "He's already been battered by Force energy, by physical blows, and by that fall," she had told him. "Anymore jarring of his system could kill him."

Drawing in a deep, shaky breath, she paused, and he could almost see the mask of professionalism fall into place. She was Healer Maede now, a Jedi who had a task to fulfill. Her fatigue and emotions would simply have to wait until the crisis had passed.

"We have to get him warm," she stated. "If you will help with that, I'll be able to focus on the internal damage. But he needs brought out of shock, or he won't make it. I can't heal him--he needs surgery--but I think I can keep him alive with the supplies I've got until we reach the Temple."

"Tell me what to do."

For the moment, she was in charge. During the mission, he had been the team's undisputed leader, and they had all relied on his wisdom, experience and expertise. But now, they had moved from his realm of knowledge into hers, and he was content to follow here. He had no choice.

"I need you to provide body heat while I get the IVs," she said, and he nodded. "I'm going to administer heated fluids as well as start a blood transfusion, but they'll take a few minutes to prepare, and every little bit will help."

Striding across the confines of the cabin, he approached the bed, then stopped, hesitant about touching the wounded Jedi. As if sensing his reluctance, Maede moved to stand next to him. "Be careful, but get him as close as possible. He needs your warmth," she whispered.

Qui-Gon sat down on the edge of the bed and studied Maul as though he were a battle map, which perhaps he was. Leaning over, he touched the Knight's shoulder. "Forgive me if I hurt you."

The younger man's eyes slitted open, and Qui-Gon could see agony reflected in the dark blue depths. "I doubt I will notice."

The words were scarcely above a whisper, as if he could barely muster the strength to utter them, and Qui-Gon felt an unexpected pang at the implications. What the Knight must have suffered at the hands of his former Master, and yet he still clung to life... tenacious didn't begin to cover it, and Qui-Gon's respect for Maul rose even more.

Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered his body and Maul's until he was settled, cradling Maul's back against his chest with his legs stretched out on either side of the younger man, pressed close in order to share his body heat. Gently, Qui-Gon enfolded Maul in his arms as Maede covered them with as many blankets as she could find. After they were wrapped up as much as possible, she excused herself to ready the IV lines.

"I know the truth," Maul said, his voice an unfamiliar rasp, nothing like his usual smooth tones. "But I thank you... for trying."

Qui-Gon didn't bother pretending not to understand.

"You'll live," he replied firmly. "You can't give up now."

"I am not... giving up." His voice grew fainter, and his head fell back on Qui-Gon's shoulder, lolling weakly. "I want... I want to hold on... but this body...."

Qui-Gon shifted, trying to see Maul's face, a sudden, sharp knife of despair slicing through him when he saw the resignation in Maul's eyes. Resignation and regret.

"I can't...." The Knight didn't, or perhaps couldn't, say what showed in his eyes: 'I wish I could have said good-bye.'

Determination galvanized the Jedi Master. No. No more.

For over two years, the best and the bravest in the Order had suffered because of Sidious, because of the Council's relentless determination to conquer the Sith Lord no matter what the cost to themselves or to the Order. They had focused single-mindedly on vanquishing their foe, seeming not to care who was sacrificed along the way. Any losses were acceptable losses to them.

But not to Qui-Gon Jinn.

There has been enough pain, enough sorrow, enough tears.

Enough.

No more.

He would die himself before he would allow this man, this stubborn Jedi who in his own quiet way shone as brightly with the Force as Obi-Wan, to die.

"You are not going to die," he growled, tightening his hold on Maul as if he could prevent it that way. "Do you hear me? I won't allow it."

A long moment passed in silence, and then there came a very weak, almost imperceptible snort, and Qui-Gon smiled. If Maul had enough strength to be derisive, then he had enough strength to do what the Jedi Master had in mind.

Laying his cheek against Maul's, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and whispered, "Hear me, Maul. Listen to me. Let me in."

As he spoke, he reached out along the Force, searching for the Knight, trying to find him to offer a winding coil of Force energy like a lifeline in the void. He slid his hand to rest over Maul's heart, feeling it pulse erratically beneath his palm as his awareness expanded to encompass the strong and steady rhythm of his own life and beyond.

"Let me in... Let me help... Let me..."

... in... Let me help... Let me in...

The message was a steady pulse along the Force, a powerful heartbeat reaching out to a weak flutter in the distance, wanting to add its strength and support. There was a tentative response, wordless, frail--and rapidly fading.

"No, don't leave, not yet, don't..." Qui-Gon protested.

Don't go. Let me in....

The Master flung his energy out as far as possible, seeking, hoping to feel an answering pull on the other end, but for endless moments, there was nothing. And then--

Master? It was weak, but it was there.

Yes, Maul. I'm here. Hold onto me, I'll help you. Qui-Gon's mental voice was as flooded with as much relief as he felt his heart to be. Just stay with me.

Quickly he sent his own strength and healing energy along the fragile new bond, as much as it could stand, and he felt the waning life-spark on the other end begin to revive, if only a little. But perhaps it would be enough. No, it had to be enough.

The spark drew closer to him, slipping inside of his mind as he welcomed it. The spark of life that was Maul slid in tentatively beside him, and he felt puzzled trust and hope come with it.

Master...

Carefully, Qui-Gon enfolded that vulnerable life-essence and nestled it safe against his heart, bolstering it and guarding it with fierce devotion. I'm here, Maul. I won't let go.

Giving a sigh, the Knight rested safe in Qui-Gon's strength and peace, and held on.

Qui-Gon shifted his chair closer to Obi-Wan's bed, his eyes never leaving his former Padawan's face, intent on seeing the first sign of awakening the moment it appeared. But Obi-Wan lay still, had lain perfectly still, his face pale and blank, looking all the more vulnerable for the bandages swathed around his head--his hair had been shorn for the surgery--and his upper body.

Qui-Gon's own face was lined with fatigue; he knew that thanks to Maede, who had all but used the Force to shove him out of Med long enough to shower, find something to eat and change clothes. While it was a relief to be out of that coldsuit, he would have remained in it, not caring about the discomfort, blood still staining his skin in places, or his own need to eat and rest. He didn't care, but Maede had reminded him that he would be no good to Obi-Wan if he was on the verge of collapse from hunger and fatigue. As a result, he'd gone, returned as soon as possible and given himself the slight luxury of one or two catnaps as he waited for Obi-Wan to regain consciousness.

Not for the first time, he wished that he hadn't been forced to sever their bond. If that had remained to him, he could have reassured himself by reaching out to Obi-Wan, feeling the comfort of his living presence even if they couldn't communicate while Obi-Wan was unconscious.

Despite the narrow escape from death Maul had made during the journey back from Naboo, Qui-Gon was not as deeply worried about him as he was about Obi-Wan. Maede had kept him informed of Maul's progress, letting him know the young Knight was still in a deep healing trance as the Healers worked an accelerated Force-healing on him to help his bones knit more quickly. But he was stable, and he would be moved into the same room as Obi-Wan once he was farther down the road to recovery. There was, Maede had told Qui-Gon regretfully, a good possibility that Maul would never recover his former strength and flexability thanks to the damage he had sustained no matter how much physical therapy he underwent, but he wasn't at any risk for brain damage.

Unlike Obi-Wan.

Qui-Gon's mouth thinned into a hard line. Even if... when Obi-Wan awoke, he might not be the same either physically or mentally. But if that happened, Qui-Gon promised himself and Obi-Wan grimly, he would devote the rest of his life taking care of his Padawan. He knew Maul wouldn't desert Obi-Wan, but Maul was young, and even if he had physical limitations now that he didn't have before, he could still serve on certain kinds of missions if he chose. Qui-Gon would simply retire and tend Obi-Wan full time.

A faint fluttering of Obi-Wan's eyelids caught his attention and brought him out of his melancholy reverie; he was instantly alert, peering anxiously at the young man's face, searching for any hint of consciousness. Reaching out, he clutched Obi-Wan's hand tight, silently urging him to wake up at last.

After what seemed like an eternity, the blue-green eyes opened. Obi-Wan blinked, his gaze seeming distant and unfocused, and Qui-Gon felt his stomach lurch. Was that empty look in his Padawan's eyes a sign that the bright mind was gone forever?

"Obi-Wan," he said quietly, stroking the back of the young man's hand with his thumb. "Can you hear me?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Obi-Wan turned his head just a little, and he appeared to focus on Qui-Gon's face.

"Don't try to talk," the Master instructed, keeping his voice low and gentle. "Just blink once if you can understand me."

There was a pause--Qui-Gon caught his breath and convulsively grasped Obi-Wan's hand tighter--and then Obi-Wan blinked. A slow, deliberate blink that sent the message loud and clear: 'I understand.'

The relief that flooded through Qui-Gon was enough to make him want to collapse; his chest constricted, making him feel as if he could barely take enough air in, but he mastered his emotions and concentrated on Obi-Wan.

"Can you move your left foot for me?"

Another pause, and then a twitch beneath the covers--Obi-Wan's foot.

"Very good, my Padawan." The words were calm, but Qui-Gon felt as if he were forcing them past a lump the size of the Temple in his throat. "Rest now, Obi-Wan. You'll be all right. Rest and heal."

But Obi-Wan's pale brow wrinkled, his lips working soundlessly as he struggled to speak. "M-Maul..."

Stroking Obi-Wan's cheek gently, he sought to soothe the younger man. "Maul is safe too. Maede and I reached him in time, and we brought him back home. He's still healing, but he'll be fine. Reach out along your bond. You'll feel him there with you."

The tension eased out of the Knight's face, but Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan's fingers tighten around his own; it may have merely been a convulsive, involuntary movement, but he chose to think it wasn't. Once more, those blue-green eyes focused on him--weak, yes, but still the spark of life and intelligence glimmered in their depths--and Qui-Gon thought he saw a plea there.

"Stay." It was a faint whisper, barely audible, but as close as he was, the Jedi Master heard it clearly, and he had to swallow hard before he could answer.

"I will never leave you again, Obi-Wan. Not now, not ever, not if I can help it," he answered.

Pouring out his emotions wasn't something that came easily or naturally, but he couldn't stop himself at this moment if he tried. He was too tired, too relieved, feeling too much himself to keep it all in, and the words spilled from him, tumbling over themselves in their haste to get out.

"I'm going to be right here by your side while you heal," he promised. "Whatever you need, I'll provide. And when you're better, then we're going to talk to Maul, to the Council... I'm going to do whatever I must to make certain we become the team we were meant to be. I promise you, my Padawan, we will never be separated again."

Obi-Wan's eyes seemed to brighten, and the corners of his mouth lifted fractionally as if he wanted to smile. "Yes, Master..."

Smiling widely enough for both of them, Qui-Gon stroked Obi-Wan's cheek gently. "We'll talk about this more when you're well. Go to sleep, Padawan. I'll be here when you wake again. I won't leave you."

Once he closed his eyes again, it took only a few moments for Obi-Wan to fall into a deep, healing sleep, but even in the depths of his slumber, he didn't release his Master's hand.

Maul drifted towards awareness at a leisurely pace, lying still and not opening his eyes even after he was conscious enough to realize he was still alive. Around him, he heard the soft whirr of machinery, the hiss of oxygen, the occasional mechanized voices of droids mingled with unfamiliar human voices, but the sounds--the world--were still on the peripheral edge of his awareness, and he was too tired to rouse himself enough to figure out where he was.

His first inclination was to think he was still Sidious' prisoner, but no sense of Darkness touched him anywhere... except in his own mind. The lack of Dark influence outside himself let him know that wherever he was, Sidious was not there, but he could still feel the Sith's cold, slimy taint in his mind.

But there was Light as well, something--someone--strong, steady, comforting, like being held safe from all harm... Obi? No. Obi-Wan was a powerful Knight, but this presence was unfamiliar and somehow different, calmer than the bright, sparkling energy Maul knew as his lover's Force-signature. Where Obi's presence in his mind was a dancing red-gold flame, this presence was a tranquil blue-green lake.

The thought of his lover brought him closer to full wakefulness as he abruptly realized the bond between them was not severed, which meant one thing: Obi was still alive as well.

Maul opened his eyes, wincing as light overhead seared them, and he blinked, trying to lift his hand to shield them, but he lacked the strength, and any slight shifting of his arm hurt enough to stop him from trying to move it.

"Maul?" A soft inquiry from close by. Obi's voice.

He turned his head on the pillow--and saw Obi lying on his side in a narrow bed several feet away. His head was bandaged, as was most of his torso, and the rest of him was hidden beneath pristine white blankets. The small room they were in was filled with various types of machines, most of it blinking with read-outs of some kind, and he recognized some of it as medical equipment.

The Healers. They were both with the Healers in the Temple. But how...?

A wide, delighted grin bloomed on Obi-Wan's lips, and he scooted to the edge of the bed as if trying to get as close to Maul as he could. "Welcome back," he said, and Maul could feel him reaching out along their bond, could feel Obi's love and relief, which he returned in equal measure. "Do you remember what happened?"

Not trusting his voice to function any better than the rest of him seemed to be doing, he simply shook his head.

"The Healers said I couldn't get up yet, but..." There was a yearning in Obi's eyes that echoed what Maul felt himself. "I want to touch you so badly," he said, his voice soft, but it carried across the room, making Maul shiver at its intensity. "I need to make sure you're real." He cast a furtive look at the door. "Hell with it, I can't stand it anymore."

Obi sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed, grimacing and pressing one hand against his side as he moved around, probably more than he had been allowed to in days. Easing himself to the floor, he stood, wavering, steadying himself by holding onto the bed, then he shuffled across the short distance between his bed and Maul's.

Careful of both himself and Maul, he sat on the edge of Maul's bed, reaching for his hand and squeezing it gently before pressing it against his cheek. The movement of his arm as Obi lifted it sent a sharp pain stabbing through his shoulder, but he ignored it, needing the contact as much as Obi did. "I was worried," he admitted quietly. "When I saw the shape you were in..."

Maul gazed up at Obi, taking in the details of his appearance. He remembered how Obi-Wan had been wounded; the sight of his mate felled and practically torn apart by shrapnel was one that would haunt his memories for the rest of his life. He had never felt so utterly helpless, afraid and alone as he had in that moment, and he had not dared hope he or Obi would live to see each other again. But here they were. The young man's face was still paler than usual, and he had a bruised look beneath his eyes; most of his upper body was swathed in bandages, which, by the look and scent of them, were being used to cover generous applications of bacta. Still healing, but alive.

"No worse than you," Maul whispered, and Obi shrugged negligently.

"It was still pretty bad," he replied. "Maede said you were worse off than you looked because most of the damage was inside, not out."

"What happened?"

"How much do you remember?" He twined his fingers with Maul's and rested their joined hands in his lap, stroking the back of Maul's hand with his thumb as they talked.

"I remember the clone troopers." Maul's forehead bunched as he frowned with the effort of remembering. "Sidious. He bound me with Force energy, and..." He trailed off, averting his eyes, not wanting Obi to know the depths of depravity the Sith had inflicted on him. He didn't want to remember it himself, much less have those kinds of thoughts implanted in Obi's mind as well. "I remember very little after a certain point."

Obi nodded, tactfully allowing that subject to drop. "Qui-Gon and Maede went back for you," he explained. "They found you on a ledge on the side of a cliff. Sidious must have thrown you off, but somehow you managed to hit that ledge not too far from the top."

"Why did they go back for me?"

"They knew you were still alive," he replied quietly. "I could still feel our bond, and I knew there was still hope."

"A foolish risk. Sidious could have been lying in wait."

"But he wasn't, he--"

Just then, the door swooshed open, and Obi darted a guilty look at the new arrival as if expecting a reprimand for being out of his own bed, but the visitor ignored him, moving directly to Maul's side instead.

"I thought you were awake," Qui-Gon smiled down at Maul and ran his hand over the top of Maul's head, ruffling his short hair and mussing it even more than it already was. "Good. How do you feel?"

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow at the familiarity. His eyebrow climbed even more as he realized that Maul wasn't objecting to it. Never before had he seen his stand-offish mate so comfortable with anyone touching him other than Obi.

"Sore," Maul answered with the first word that popped into his head, and Qui-Gon nodded.

"That's to be expected. You'll need physical therapy for a while to strengthen your arms and legs again. They were damaged rather extensively."

Maul looked up at the Jedi Master, listening but not really hearing his words. He couldn't quite understand why Qui-Gon had gone directly to him rather than Obi-Wan, couldn't understand why he was looking at Maul with such kindness and affection in his eyes. As he stared at Qui-Gon, that unfamiliar presence in his mind grew stronger, grew more intense, and suddenly he realized exactly what it was: the first stage of a teaching bond. With Qui-Gon.

A bond? He reached out tentatively, testing to see if it were real and if so, how strong it was.

A bond... And with Qui-Gon Jinn, his lover's former Master. How had that happened? Surely the Jedi Master hadn't created it. Why would he? What could possibly have motivated him to bond with the likes of Maul, even on the most superficial of levels? He closed his eyes and explored it hesitantly, almost expecting to be pushed away, but Qui-Gon didn't try to keep him at bay--indeed, he welcomed him mentally and opened himself as far as Maul wished to explore--and Maul found himself basking in the glow of peaceful Light that radiated to him from the bond.

So this is what it felt like to have a Master of the Light side. That is what every Padawan must feel when they connected with their Masters. Maul had never known anything like it. Even his connection with Obi didn't feel this way. It couldn't--Obi had neither the wisdom nor experience that Qui-Gon did. Maul was feeling the inner difference between a Knight and a Master, and he was humbled by it.

It was the only way to keep you alive on the way home. Qui-Gon replied, and Maul wanted to cling to the warmth of the Light emanating from the Master. It felt so good, so soothing after the mental battering he had taken from Sidious. You were fading, and you needed something to hold onto. I tried to help strengthen your spirit, and the only way was to create a bond. And so I did.

You should have this bond with Obi, not me.

Qui-Gon touched his cheek gently. I'll sort things out with Obi-Wan when the time comes. Meanwhile, don't concern yourself with what should be. Rest and heal. We'll discuss this later.

Maul would have said more, would have argued, but Obi cleared his throat, then gave Maul and Qui-Gon a questioning look when they finally turned their attention to him.

"What exactly happened between you two during this rescue mission?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at them. "Is there something I should know about?"

Maul and Qui-Gon exchanged looks, then Qui-Gon reached out and clasped Obi-Wan's shoulder affectionately. "We'll explain everything later. But right now..." His expression turned mock-reproachful. "Shouldn't you be in your own bed?"

"I was wondering when you'd notice," Obi retorted with a cheeky smile, and Maul felt his chest tighten in response to the familiar sight that, had things gone differently, he might never have seen again.

Almost lost. Death had come so close to both of them, yet somehow they had survived. He was more acutely aware than ever of how precious every moment was, and he made a silent promise to himself never to waste a single minute of life, of time with his beloved mate.

Nor will I waste a single moment with my former Padawan.

Maul nearly jumped, startled to hear an answer to his thoughts; he hadn't realized the bond was well-formed enough for Qui-Gon to pick up his thoughts if he weren't shielded.

He is too important to me to take for granted, Maul replied.

Agreed. We'll both treasure him as he deserves.

Qui-Gon tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulder and rested his other hand on Maul's arm, dividing his gaze between them as he spoke. "I'm glad you're both safe. It was so close... and if I had lost either one of you..."

"If you had lost either one of them, you would have lost the other as well."

They had all been so intent on their own little circle that they hadn't noticed Maede enter the room until she spoke, and then they turned to her, giving her the same quizzical look in response to her cryptic words. She stared back at them as if expecting them to understand what she meant, but the silence merely spun out longer and longer until she frowned a little, seeming as puzzled now as they were.

"Why am I being looked at like I'm the only one who knows what I'm talking about?"

"Because you are," Obi-Wan offered, grinning at her, but that cheerfully teasing expression faded as she began her explanation.

"If one member of a life bond dies, the other will soon follow," she said. "I assumed you two knew that."

"Life bond?" Obi echoed, sounding bewildered.

"Yes, life bond," she repeated patiently. "What did you think you had?"

Maul glanced up at Obi at the same moment Obi glanced down at him; their gazes met, and he could see his own surprise mirrored in his mate's eyes. This was the last thing either of them had expected, and Maul wondered if this would change things as far as Obi-Wan was concerned. Maul already knew it wouldn't for him--he had been committed to Obi alone ever since he had arrived at the Temple--but Obi-Wan had been resistant to the relationship in general and the Force-created bond between them in particular from the beginning. To find that he was life bonded without being given a choice might be more than he cared to deal with.

"When the Force created the bond, it felt more like a teaching bond," Obi said hesitantly. "I didn't... I didn't realize it had changed so much."

"I'm sorry," Maede said quietly. "I thought you knew. Each different type of bond has a different Force-resonance, and yours..." She broke off and shrugged. "Well, it hasn't ever felt like a teaching bond for me, but then, we didn't meet until after you'd become lovers."

Maul glanced around, noticing that both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan appeared stunned into silence.

"Gods..." Qui-Gon whispered at last, his eyes wide and round. "I didn't know I was risking both of you... I didn't know..."

"You were risking us both anyway. Even if we'd known, we would have gone on this mission with you, Master," Obi replied firmly. "There have been other life bonded Jedi who've served on missions, knowing the danger. Risks are an integral part of our lives. Knowing we have a life bond doesn't change anything."

The words seemed to be meant for Qui-Gon, but he was looking at Maul when he said them, and Maul breathed a silent sigh of relief. They would have to discuss this later, when they were home, but for now, he was content to know that Obi didn't seem to be taking this news badly.

He wanted to talk to Obi, Qui-Gon and Maede longer, or at least listen while they talked, but fatigue was weighing heavily on him; everything was such an effort, and he felt exhausted even though he had only just awakened. Something of that must have shown on his face, because Maede gave him a searching look, then moved to help Obi-Wan back to his own bed.

"Come on, you two, let's go over here, all right?" she encouraged softly. "We'll let Maul rest for now, and you can talk to him later."

He wanted to protest, to reach out and stop Obi was withdrawing, but he couldn't muster the energy, feeling himself slipping away again, but this time into sleep rather than unconsciousness. Once more he felt Obi squeeze his fingers before releasing them, once more he felt Qui-Gon touch his cheek affectionately. Those caresses and the emotion behind them carried him into deep, dreamless, healing sleep.

"No."

Maul would have crossed his arms, but the shoulder joints were still stiff, and that kind of movement would have hurt too much. Instead, he glared balefully at the hover-chair as if it were a personal insult.

"It's this, or you stay here until you can walk all the way to our quarters by yourself," Obi said reasonably. "Right now, you can barely make it across the room and back. There's no way you can walk that far on your own. Either you stay here, or you swallow your pride and use the chair."

Maul narrowed his eyes at his mate, his lower lip thrust out in what was suspiciously close to a pout.

"I do not want the entire Temple to see me being carted around on one of those... things."

"Oh, for--" Obi threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes, obviously frustrated. "Look, the entire Temple isn't going to see you, and who cares anyway? As far as they're concerned, we're heroes! You could get Master Yoda to give you a ride on his back through the dining hall, and no one would care."

Maul snorted derisively and looked away, struggling to reconcile himself to the idea of having to submit to riding in that chair rather than walking home under his own power. The idea of anyone seeing him appear so helpless rankled, despite he knew pride such as that was inappropriate for a Jedi.

"Why do you not have to use one?" he demanded petulantly.

"Because my legs weren't pulverized," Obi replied patiently. "Yours were."

In truth, Obi-Wan could have returned home earlier, but he had chosen not to, saying he would wait until Maul was released as well. Privately, he had admitted that he was still too rattled by their experience to want to be alone, and he wanted to be close by just for reassurance, not only that Maul was alive but that he himself was as well. But while he was still recovering his strength and needed to spend most of his time resting, he was well enough not to need any further monitoring by the Healers, simply routine visits until he was completely healed. Maul, on the other hand, would be slower to regain complete health and mobility; he would require assistance for some time, a thought he preferred not to dwell on.

The door slid open, and Maede walked in, grinning at both of them.

"Still haven't managed to talk him into it?"

"No." Obi mock-glared at his mate. "I'm about to resort to desperate measures."

"Have you tried bribery?" she suggested, and Maul considering coughing loudly just to remind them he was, in fact, in the room and they didn't need to talk about him as if he weren't there.

"Now there's a thought..." Obi turned to Maul, a speculative look in his eyes, and Maul arched one eyebrow, wondering what to expect. With that look, it could be anything.

There are benefits to using the chair to get home. Think about this, beloved.

And with that, Maul suddenly found his mind filled with images of himself and Obi-Wan back in their own quarters, among their own belongings once more; just the comforting familiarity was lure enough, but then Obi projected an image of them together, sharing a bed, being able to hold each other throughout the night as they hadn't been able to do in far too long, separated by the gulf of their own injuries and the space between their narrow beds.

Before he was consciously aware of having made a decision, Maul found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, ready to get in that damnable contraption; he'd run it at top speed down the hallway to avoid being seen if he had to, but he would sleep in his own bed that night.

Immediately, Obi and Maede were at his side, steadying him as he stood up, still too weak to remain upright on his own. They assisted the few shuffling steps he had to take to reach the chair, but to their credit, they avoided trying to help him get settled in it, leaving him to find the most comfortable position, an awkward process at best considering how stiff and sore his arms and legs were.

Once they were underway, Maul wished for his outer robe so that he could draw up the hood and avoid meeting anyone's gaze, especially if they encountered someone they knew.

Which, of course, they did.

It seemed they had barely left Med before Maul heard a familiar voice hailing them, and suddenly Jossen was standing in front of the hover chair, looking down at him with a mixture of concern and relief in his eyes. If he could have pressed a button and sent the hover chair into hyperspace to get him away from this humiliating situation, he would have. But no. He was trapped.

"Gods, it's good to see you, Maul!" Jossen exclaimed. "I've been annoying everyone I know trying to find out how you were doing, but no one seemed to know much, and the Healers said you didn't want visitors."

And he hadn't. He hadn't wanted to suffer the indignity of being seen lying in that damned bed, completely incapacitated.

"But that's probably for the best," Jossen continued, not waiting for Maul to offer a reply or explanation. "From what I did hear, you were in pretty bad shape, and having a lot of people traipsing in and out wouldn't have helped you heal any faster. But," he paused and smiled warmly, "there were a lot of people thinking about you. Both of you," he added, glancing over at Obi-Wan to include him as well.

Obi-Wan smiled back and murmured "thank you," and Maul was relieved to see no sign of jealousy or resentment on his mate's face or in his voice. At one point, Obi-Wan had disliked Jossen, thinking him a rival, but he had since come to understand that the other man was merely a friend and would never be anything more.

No sooner had Jossen gone his way than Bant appeared, her bulbous eyes filled with tears as she hugged Obi-Wan tight enough to make him gasp. After Bant, there was someone else, a steady stream of someone elses--Obi-Wan's friends, Maul's students, Masters, Knights and Padawan who wanted to say a word of congratulations or extend well-wishes for their recovery. It seemed they couldn't progress more than two or three feet before having to stop, and it wasn't long before they were both growing tired, Obi-Wan especially since he was walking, but neither of them had regained their old energy levels yet. It was then that Maede stepped in, quietly intercepting people and explaining that the patients needed to get to their quarters as soon as possible to rest.

Once she began deflecting the well-meaning Jedi, they made much faster progress, and soon--thankfully--they arrived at their quarters. Obi-Wan palmed the door open and entered, Maul and Maede following along behind. To Maul's surprise, the scent of food wafted through the air, and he wondered how that had happened--until Qui-Gon emerged from the smaller bedroom, smiling at them all.

"Welcome home, you two," he greeted them warmly. "I took the liberty of preparing the evening meal so you wouldn't have to tire yourselves out by facing the dining hall."

Maul raised his eyebrows to his hairline but said nothing, leaving it to Obi-Wan to ask, "Master... I mean no offense by this because you know I'm glad to see you, but... what are you doing here? How did you get in?"

"I got in thanks to a little assistance from the custodial staff," Qui-Gon explained calmly, moving into the small kitchen area and peering into a pot on the warming unit, stirring the contents before continuing his explanation. "As for what I'm doing here..." He paused, shrugged negligently and spread his hands. "I live here now."

It took all of his will power for Maul not to let his jaw fall open at that announcement. Obi-Wan showed no such restraint.

"You mean it?" Pure delight suffused his face, resonated in his voice. "You're going to stay here with us?"

"At least until you are completely healed," Qui-Gon replied, nodding. "You both still need a great deal of rest, and neither of you need to try to manage around here by yourselves. You need help, and I'm here to give it."

"We'll accept it," Obi-Wan said, his smile radiant as he moved to embrace his former Master, who enfolded him in a tight hug. "And gladly."

"And what about you, Maul?" Qui-Gon turned to look at him. "Do you accept this new arrangement as well?"

Words didn't come easily for Maul. They seemed to flow effortlessly from Obi-Wan, but Maul often found himself unable to express what was most important. He wanted to tell Qui-Gon that as far as he was concerned, the Jedi Master could remain indefinitely. That his presence would make Obi-Wan happy and would therefore make Maul happy. That for himself, he wanted Qui-Gon close by so he could feel their bond more strongly, could bask in the Light and peace that surrounded the Master, could begin to wash away Sidious' cloying taint in that healing aura.

But the words stuck in his throat, and he simply nodded instead.

"Good." Qui-Gon looked and sounded pleased, which he probably was, having arranged things as he wanted them. Reaching down, he smoothed a hand over Maul's short hair, sent a wave of affection through the bond. Whenever you need me, I'm only a thought away.

Unnerved once more, Maul stared up at the man. The Master's touch felt like being enfolded in a father's healing embrace. It was all so new, so welcome, and so heartbreakingly needed in ways he didn't yet understand, Maul didn't know how to respond, or even if he should. Was this what a Master's love felt like, or was it simple affection from a man who cared? Whatever it was, it felt wonderful.

Thank you, he managed to summon a mental reply at last.

With a brief nod, Qui-Gon turned away. "Maede, would you care to join us for dinner?"

The Healer accepted the invitation, and the four of them enjoyed a quiet, relaxing meal. Maul felt the tension that had coiled in a tight knot within him at having been subjected to so much attention and scrutiny in the hallways begin to unwind. He could relax with these three people, he realized. The harrowing experience they had shared had forged bonds between them in more ways than one, and he felt as comfortable with both Qui-Gon and Maede as he did with Obi-Wan--a new experience for him. He found his innate reserve melting away with them as it never did around others, and while he didn't contribute to the conversation any more than he usually did, he was far more content to let it ebb and flow around him, enjoying listening and watching.

He felt Obi's bright presence in his mind, filling him with love. He felt Qui-Gon's strength, giving him security and peace. He felt Maede's compassion, offering him understanding and caring. This, he thought as he sat back and watched, is camaraderie in its truest and best form.

But as much as he was enjoying the evening, fatigue was creeping up on him, and apparently on Obi as well, a fact that didn't go unnoticed.

"Time for me to say good night," Maede said quietly, rising from her seat, and Qui-Gon rose with her.

"Yes, I think our patients need rest," he agreed, smiling at Obi and Maul, his eyes twinkling with good humor at them. "I'd offer to tuck you in, but I think you can manage that well enough by yourselves."

Obi shook his head as he stood up, reaching to assist Maul, who had abandoned the hated hover chair as soon as they had arrived. It was banished to a far corner until he needed to venture out of their quarters, but as long as he was inside, he planned to shuffle around as best he could on his own two feet. But as soon as Maul was standing, preparing to head to their bedroom, Obi tightened his grip on Maul's arm and nodded in the direction of the entrance.

Curious, Maul glanced around just in time to see Qui-Gon lean down, wrap his arms around Maede, and brush a light kiss across her lips. She didn't appear to mind it in the least. And from the way she entwined her arms around his broad shoulders and lifted up on her toes to meet him more than halfway, it was obvious to the watching Jedi that this wasn't the first time they'd shared such a kiss.

"I'd like to see you, but I'll be busy..." They heard the older Jedi murmur.

"I know." Maede nodded. "After things have settled," she said quietly. "We'll talk then."

"Yes, we will."

They kissed again before drawing apart. For a long moment, they simply gazed at each other, and then Maede smiled slightly and reached up to touch Qui-Gon's cheek. Capturing her hand, he nuzzled her fingers as she smiled, whispered "Good night," and then departed. When Qui-Gon turned around again, it was to find himself being smirked at by his two "patients."

"Something going on we should know about, Master?" Obi asked, his tone too innocent to be innocent.

"No," was the growled response, complete with a mock-glower as Qui-Gon stalked back toward the two Knights.

"Not yet, anyway," Obi added with an impish smile, and Maul nudged him to get his attention.

"I trust that you believe me now when I say that nothing happened between your Master and myself on the way back from Naboo?"

"I'm definitely convinced," Obi replied, guiding Maul towards their bedroom once more. "Good night, Master," he called over his shoulder, "Pleasant dreams!"

"The same to you, my Padawans."

Maul shook his head and smiled a little to hear his lover's teasing. Finally something felt normal again. Finally he felt like he had come home.

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