Qui-Gon woke slowly, sure he was hearing someone call to him. "Master?"
"Yes, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon did not open his eyes.
"This boy."
"Yes, Obi-Wan."
"Was it his blood you sent me for analysis?"
"Naturally." Opening one eye, Qui-Gon saw that his apprentice had pulled a
chair to the side of his bed, and was hunched forward, elbows on his knees,
gazing at him intently and fidgeting a little nervously. "What is it,
Obi-Wan?"
The younger man shook his head, as if physically trying to dislodge the
stray thought. "Nothing. Nothing, Master. We're coming out of hyperspace.
You asked me to wake you."
Qui-Gon sat up, leaning on his elbows. "Thank you. How long until we
land?"
"Less than two hours, Master." Obi-Wan stood. "Excuse me."
Watching him go, Qui-Gon felt himself give a little sigh. With each day
that passed, Obi-Wan grew more and more troubled by his nebulous
precognition. He paced and frowned and sometimes seemed even to scowl;
Qui-Gon had not seen the sweet, bright smile he so adored since before they
had left on this mission. He dragged himself reluctantly from his bunk to
dress and meditate before landing.
Something was going to separate them, Obi-Wan had said. Qui-Gon wondered
why his apprentice had been visited by this vision when he himself had not.
Although he was not accustomed to knowledge of the future like his own
master, he was more skilled at interpreting premonitions than his Obi-Wan,
and could very likely have made sense of the jumble of images and ideas that
had planted itself in the younger man's mind. Instead, Obi-Wan bore the
burden himself. He spoke of it very little, referring to it simply as a
feeling in his gut, conceding details only on the day they had left Tatooine
-- after the assault on his sense of security, in rapid succession, of the
horned creature and the boy's mother.
Qui-Gon composed himself to meditate, and to set Obi-Wan's vision from his
thoughts. Much though it hurt him to see his beloved padawan in distress,
he could not, Yoda-like, summon a precognition. He settled his body, slowed
his breathing, and let the Force carry the anxiety away from his heart as
water carried poison from a wound.
Obi-Wan stood behind his master, chewing the inside of his cheek to maintain
his calm as Qui-Gon related the attack of the horned creature to the
Council. The vision was swimming again just below the surface of his
consciousness; he could not both open his mind to it and keep his gaze
alert, but it was the vision that exerted the more powerful draw. Obi-Wan
deliberately looked from Qui-Gon to Master Windu to Master Yoda and back
again, varying his attention so the premonition would not consume him.
Although he would not allow himself the images, he could clearly perceive
the feelings, and they were strong enough. He felt a pronounced absence of
Qui-Gon; although the man's essence was still hazily detectable, the
overwhelming presence he had been in Obi-Wan's life these dozen years was
gone. He felt his own anger, and tried before he knew what he was doing to
control that emotion, realizing after a moment that he could not channel and
release anger he only suspected he might one day feel. Mixed up around the
edges, obscuring the clarity of the vision, were misery, despair, heartache,
the bitterness of betrayal. Obi-Wan wasn't sure whose emotions these were
supposed to be.
Qui-Gon had evidently finished speaking. Master Windu had excused them,
with that air of quiet but stone-cold authority in his voice only a
green-horned fool -- or Master Qui-Gon Jinn -- would challenge. Obi-Wan had
turned to go when he realized his master had not, and he heard Yoda's
ill-concealed curiosity: "Master Qui-Gon? More to say have you?"
"With your permission, my master. I believe I have encountered a vergence
in the Force." Obi-Wan's heart sank. The boy. Without taking him to any
healers, without running any more sophisticated tests than a patched-in
blood count on a Naboo spacecraft, he had gone straight to the top and
brought the boy -- or at least the issue of the boy -- immediately to the
Council. No wonder they'd never invited him to sit on that assembly; never
mind the Code, the man had no respect for procedure.
The Council was surprised by Qui-Gon's statement. "A vergence, you say?"
"Located around a ... a person?" There were places where the Force was
known to be especially strong, hanging heavy in the air like fog; but
Obi-Wan had never known of a person who had the Force so much with him.
Master Yoda was the most sensitive to the Force of all living Jedi, and the
Force certainly didn't follow
him around like a cloud.
"A boy. His cells have the highest concentration of midichlorians I have
seen in a life form. It's possible he was conceived by the midichlorians."
With an effort he fervently hoped the Council could not perceive, Obi-Wan
refrained from rolling his eyes.
Those Councilors who had not already sat up and taken notice did so now.
"You refer to the prophecy of the one who will bring balance to the Force?"
Master Windu sounded the tiniest bit suspicious. "You believe it's this ...
boy?"
"I don't presume to --"
"But you do!" Master Yoda interrupted. "Revealed, your opinion is." That
was true enough. Qui-Gon was a diplomat and negotiator without equal, and
could charm the hind leg off a gundark. That was a good part of what had
caused Obi-Wan to fall in love with him in the first place. But his manner
didn't fool anyone on the Council, least of all Master Yoda, who had trained
Qui-Gon from an early age in precisely the smooth deference he was now
exhibiting.
Qui-Gon sighed and conceded the point to his old master. "I ask that the
boy be tested."
You could have had him tested yourself, Master, Obi-Wan thought
helplessly,
and then you'd be so much more likely to get what you want ...
"Trained as a Jedi, you wish for him, hmm?" Master Yoda always sounded just
amused enough to be interested, but not enough to mock his fellow-Jedi.
"Finding him was the will of the Force. I'm sure of it."
At that, Master Windu
did roll his eyes, making a you-win gesture with his
hands. "Bring him before us, then."
"Tested he will be," Master Yoda said. "May the Force be with you." Only
after this concession did Qui-Gon bow and leave the Council chamber.
Obi-Wan followed him.
Anakin was excited to meet the Council; Obi-Wan noted that Qui-Gon did not
disabuse the boy of the notion that his training might begin immediately.
It was not precisely a lie, but it was certainly a withholding of the truth.
Obi-Wan was certain it would have been kinder to the child to advise him
that the Council was wary, wary of
all Force-strong young people they came
across, so he could be prepared for the possibility of disappointment from
the outset. Dishonesty, even as slight as this, could not be the right way
to train a Jedi. Obi-Wan had never noticed behavior like this in Qui-Gon
before, and wondered if it was because he had been blinded by loyalty then
-- or because Qui-Gon was blinded by Anakin now.
Qui-Gon spoke briefly with Anakin when they reached the Council chamber.
Obi-Wan did not hear what either said, but Anakin nodded good-naturedly and
went in to the chamber by himself. Qui-Gon straightened, noted the
displeased expression Obi-Wan could feel on his own face, and moved toward
the balcony, saying nothing. He had evidently decided Obi-Wan wanted or
needed to be left alone. The young man swallowed his annoyance. Qui-Gon
was not patronizing or humoring him; his master had the courage of his
convictions, and chose not to begin a discussion he knew would end in an
argument.
But he looked so smug, as though he knew his apprentice would come around
eventually. Obi-Wan wouldn't have that. Qui-Gon might be older and wiser,
but that and a handful of credits wouldn't buy him lunch. He was
not
always right, and he knew it; his apprentice did not always agree with him,
and it was time he knew that too. "The boy will not pass the Council's
tests, Master," he pointed out, following the older man through the archway.
"He's too old."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Anakin will be a Jedi. I promise you."
Obi-Wan felt a slight sense of dread, just a whisper in the back of his mind
of the vision. Residue from the Council meeting. He tried to ignore it.
"Don't defy the Council, Master," he said -- trying to plead rather than
scold, but unable not to finish his thought -- "not again."
Qui-Gon raised the other eyebrow; Obi-Wan was skirting dangerously close to
the limits of his patience. "I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan," he said, in
the tone of voice that had once meant the subject was closed. He stepped to
the railing, watching the city buzz in the sunset.
"If you'd just follow the Code, Master, you'd be
on the Council," Obi-Wan
persisted. "They will not go along with you this time."
Qui-Gon turned and laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "You still have much
to learn, my young apprentice." Obi-Wan nodded, mildly annoyed that Qui-Gon
had played the rank card, calling him "young apprentice" to cut him down; he
was even more annoyed with himself for being annoyed at his master. He
was the man's young apprentice, as well as his lover, and it was right of
Qui-Gon to continue to guide and instruct him as any master would.
Qui-Gon's expression softened somewhat. "I sense something very special in
Anakin, love," he said, switching roles. "I wish you did as well. Just as
I wish I also sensed the vision that has been troubling you."
"You don't think what I've sensed is going to happen?" Obi-Wan stiffened.
The parallel had been unmistakable: Obi-Wan did not doubt Qui-Gon had felt a
particular strength about Anakin -- merely that this must mean he was the
Chosen One and all due process should be abandoned. Qui-Gon did not doubt
Obi-Wan had had a vision in which they were no longer together -- merely
that this must mean Qui-Gon himself was in some sort of serious danger.
Obi-Wan knew his strength was not in presentiment; but he had not insisted
that anyone alter habits and procedures to accommodate his vision.
"The future is difficult to see, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently. "I don't
know what will be the outcome of your vision any more than you do."
"But how do you know you're right about Anakin?" Obi-Wan reasoned. "How can
you be any more certain than I can?" Qui-Gon started to sigh and pull the
young man into his arms, but Obi-Wan resisted. "Don't tell me you're not
surprised I don't understand,
Master," he said pointedly. "Not when
you've just told me how much I have to learn. Teach me, if there's
something to be taught."
Qui-Gon did sigh, in contemplation rather than frustration, and folded his
arms into his sleeves. "The difference as I see it, Padawan, is one of
direction," he said. "Your precognition is a beginning. It has no
reference, nothing to link to. The Force has given you a vision that stands
alone." Obi-Wan nodded, briefly. "My vision is an ending. There has been
a prophecy of a Chosen One, and I believe I have found him. The Force has
given me a vision that complements what we already know. Do you
understand?"
"I believe so, Master."
"We cannot know if one vision is more accurate than another, Obi-Wan, but we
can use precedent, when it exists, in interpretation."
"Yes, Master."
"It is my belief that the Force itself chose Anakin. Do you understand it
is my duty to see him trained?"
"Master, if the Force itself chose him, why does it matter if we train him
or not?"
Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "Obi-Wan, I do not wish to argue about this any
more. The Council will decide, and until they do all this discussion is
purely academic. And it's making us both cranky."
"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said, turning to leave the other man in peace.
Qui-Gon stopped him. "Let us just be together for a bit, hmm?" He drew
Obi-Wan back to stand in front of him again. "For a little while?" Obi-Wan
stepped into his arms and accepted his kiss. After a moment he turned and
leaned back against Qui-Gon's shoulder, the long arms wrapping around his
waist and the bearded chin next to his temple. Not speaking, they simply
stood, waiting for Anakin and watching the sky darken.
Dusk had nearly given way to night when the Council summoned Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan back into the chamber. The boy was not perceptibly anxious; he was
unruffled by what had no doubt been a barrage of tests, but glad they were
over. Qui-Gon bowed to the Council, knowing that behind his right shoulder
Obi-Wan did the same.
No time was wasted. "The Force is strong with him," Ki-Adi-Mundi said.
Qui-Gon nodded his satisfaction. "He's to be trained, then."
"No."
The word had come from Mace. The man was leaned back against the back of
his seat, legs crossed, one arm thrown over the back of the chair. Clearly,
it bothered him not at all to relate this news. Against his training,
Qui-Gon allowed his face to betray his shock. He glanced around the
chamber, seeing nor sensing no tension from any of the assembled masters.
All were comfortable with this decision. "He will not be trained," Mace
confirmed.
"No?!" He felt his arms unfold, his peaceful center lost.
"He is too old," Mace said with infuriating calm.
Qui-Gon felt Anakin's distress at this. He felt Obi-Wan's relief, as well,
and channeled his sudden anger at the young man into anger at the Council.
"He is the Chosen One. You must see it," he insisted.
Master Yoda closed his eyes. "Hmm ... clouded, this boy's future is," he
announced.
His future might be clouded, his mind might be full of fear, but the boy had
been chosen by the Force. He had to be trained. It was the Force's will.
Qui-Gon stepped to his side and placed his hands on Anakin's shoulders. "I
will train him, then," he declared. Spikes of surprise came from everyone
in the room. "I take Anakin as my padawan learner."
As soon as he said it, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. The
masters of the Council had overcome their initial surprise, but Obi-Wan had
not. He felt the fury radiating from the younger man, almost heard his
voice cracking -- [[How could you? How
could you?!]] -- and had no doubt
everyone else, even Anakin, could sense it as well. His heart suddenly
ached at the pain he had caused.
"An apprentice you have, Qui-Gon," Master Yoda chided him.
And I've hurt
him, I've hurt him, he thought. "Impossible to take on a second."
"The Code forbids it," Mace added, apparently forgetting that Qui-Gon cared
little for the Code when it did not suit his cause. But now, still keenly
aware of Obi-Wan's anger, Qui-Gon understood: the Code forbade the taking of
a second padawan before the first had been knighted for precisely this
reason. No matter how carefully the master explained his decision -- and
Qui-Gon had not done so carefully at all -- the first apprentice was bound
to feel cast aside. [[How
could you?!]]
"Obi-Wan is ready," he began.
Obi-Wan stepped forward instantly. "I am ready to face the trials," he
said.
"Our own council will we keep on who is ready," Master Yoda told them both.
"He is headstrong," Qui-Gon said, glancing over at his apprentice and
wishing he hadn't, stunned by the hurt in his form as he stared at the
floor, sick with guilt that he had put it there -- "and he has much to learn
of the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more he will learn
from me." [[I'm sorry, love, I'm sorry,]] he tried to project. He didn't
want to look at the young man again, but he knew he had to; their eyes met
for just a moment, and in that moment Qui-Gon saw anger and sadness and the
worst thing of all -- disillusionment. [[Should have told you sooner, I'm
sorry, I'm so sorry.]]
[[How could you?]] was all he got back, but quieter; the Force no longer
trembled with Obi-Wan's rage.
"Young Skywalker's fate will be decided later," Yoda insisted.
"Now is not the time for this," Mace said, silencing everyone. He leaned
forward. "The Senate is voting for a new supreme chancellor and Queen
Amidala is returning home, which will put pressure on the Federation and
could widen the confrontation."
"And draw out the Queen's attacker," Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out.
"Go with the Queen to Naboo," Mace said, "and discover the identity of this
dark warrior. This is the clue we need to unravel the mystery of the Sith."
He leaned back in his chair, the meaning clear: Mace has spoken, and this
interview is over.
Yoda dismissed them formally: "May the Force be with you."
All three bowed and left the chamber, Obi-Wan fairly sprinting to reach the
door as Qui-Gon walked behind with his charge. "Run and get your things,
Ani," Qui-Gon said, "and fetch Jar Jar as well. We'll be leaving as soon as
the ship is ready." Anakin made a face at the mention of the Gungan's name,
but scampered off to do Qui-Gon's bidding. Obi-Wan was waiting, hands
tucked into his sleeves, face like stone. Qui-Gon suspected nothing would
be gained by trying to explain himself now. "Come, Padawan," he said
instead. "We must assist the crew with readying the ship."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said as they started toward the landing pad. After a
long pause, he spoke again. "What will you do now, Master?"
"Padawan?"
"With the boy?" They stepped into the ship, checking supplies and
double-checking communications links.
"He needs guidance. I shall try to show him the ways of the Force."
"Qui-Gon, the Council --"
"I know what the Council said, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon snapped. "And I know why
they said it."
"Then why don't you heed their warnings?" Obi-Wan challenged.
"The boy is not to blame for his age," Qui-Gon countered, leaning closer to
the younger man and lowering his voice, "and when we are in public you will
please address me with the respect due a master."
"It's not disrespect,
Master," Obi-Wan said, not missing a beat as he
followed Qui-Gon down the ramp and back onto the landing pad. "It's the
truth."
"From your point of view," Qui-Gon replied, over his shoulder.
"The boy is dangerous -- they all sense it, why can't you?"
His patience was wearing thin. "His future is
uncertain, but he's not
dangerous. The Council will decide Anakin's future -- that should be enough
for you. Now get on board." Swallowing a retort, Obi-Wan obeyed, and
Qui-Gon's heart sank further; when he could have apologized, could have
acknowledged that Obi-Wan had been right about the Council and he had been
wrong, he had reasserted his rank and driven the wedge further between them.
With a start, Qui-Gon realized that this separation was precisely what
Obi-Wan had referred to in his vision. The prescience had come to him at
the beginning of this mission, had gotten worse when Anakin had come on
board, and was even now playing itself out, as his own commitment to
Anakin's training was drawing him unwittingly away from his Obi-Wan.
Anakin was speaking to him. "Master Qui-Gon, sir, I don't want to be a
problem."
"You won't be, Ani," he assured the boy, crouching in front of him. "Now,
I'm not allowed to train you, so I want you to watch me and be mindful.
Remember, your focus determines your reality." He managed to distract
himself with that statement ... how often he let that maxim slip to the back
of his mind. His focus on Obi-Wan's precognition had virtually ensured it
would be realized. "Stay close to me," he said to Anakin, "and you'll be
safe."
"Master Qui-Gon, sir, I heard Yoda talking about midichlorians, and I've
been wondering -- what are midichlorians?"
His mind on Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon answered the boy's questions. He could sense
the younger man was coming to terms with his anger -- not that he was any
less angry, but that he was resigning himself to it. That wasn't what he
wanted. He wanted desperately to go to Obi-Wan, quiet him with a finger to
his lips when he would speak, and remove that finger to cover Obi-Wan's lips
with his own. He wanted to kneel and implore his lover's pardon, looking up
into those beloved eyes rather than down on them. He wanted to close his
eyes and open his heart and let Obi-Wan know, not just believe, how precious
he was to him. He wanted Obi-Wan to love him again, and know his love was
returned.
The queen and her retinue were approaching: it was time to leave. "Your
Majesty," he said, rising, "it is our pleasure to continue to serve and
protect you."
"I welcome your help," the girl said. "Senator Palpatine fears the
Federation means to destroy me."
"I assure you," Qui-Gon said as he accompanied the party aboard ship, "I
will not let that happen."
"Master Jinn," Captain Panaka said as Jar Jar and Anakin came aboard and the
ramp was retracted, "I'd like for us to meet with Her Highness en route and
try to come up with some kind of strategy."
"That sounds wise, Captain," Qui-Gon agreed. "My apprentice and I are at
your disposal. Let us know when you and the queen are ready."
They lifted off almost immediately; all hands strapped in for the jump to
hyperspace, then Qui-Gon helped Anakin settle in his cabin and returned to
the cabin he was to share with Obi-Wan. "One of us should be on alert at
all times, Master," Obi-Wan said before Qui-Gon could speak. "We don't know
how much the Federation knows of the queen's movements. Do you agree?"
Your reasoning can be made to make sense -- rationalized, which is what
you're doing, my heart, he thought.
Oh, my Obi-Wan, I've driven you
away ... "Yes, Padawan. Very wise."
"We'll have to trade off." The young man indicated the only bed, his eyes
unreadable.
Qui-Gon nodded, unable for the moment to speak through the lump in his
throat. His commlink chirped. "Jinn," he said when he had fished it out.
"Panaka here. We're ready for you."
"We'll be right there." He clicked off and turned to Obi-Wan. "Come," he
said. "Panaka wishes us to consult with him and the queen and decide on a
plan."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, folding his arms into his sleeves.
"Master Qui-Gon, sir," Anakin said, trotting out of his cabin as the two
Jedi made their way down the hall. "Can I go sit in the cockpit and watch
the pilots?"
"You may if they don't mind, Anakin," Qui-Gon said. "But if you're in their
way, you're to stay in your cabin and concentrate on quieting your mind,
like I told you."
"Yes, sir. Thank you." He hurried off toward the cockpit as Qui-Gon and
Obi-Wan rounded the corner to the queen's chambers.
"Gentlemen," Amidala said from her throne. "Thank you for joining us. I
want to be assured everyone is aware of the plan for our return."
"I am not aware, your Majesty," Qui-Gon said, stepping forward -- noticing
that Obi-Wan did not remain his customary one step behind, but hung back --
"of any plan other than landing on Naboo and returning to Theed."
"That is the general goal, yes," she said.
"The moment we land," said Panaka, "the Federation will arrest you, and
force you to sign their treaty."
"I agree," Qui-Gon nodded. "I'm not sure what you hope to accomplish by
this."
"We will take back what is ours," the girl said, her uninflected voice
seeming to take on a sharper edge for a moment.
"There are only twelve of us, your Highness. We have no army," Panaka
reminded her.
"And," Qui-Gon advised, "I can only protect you. I cannot fight a war for
you."
There was a pause before the girl spoke again. "Jar Jar Binks," she said.
The Gungan, standing back with Obi-Wan, looked up. "Mesa, your Highness?"
"I need your help." Qui-Gon was glad to note that Obi-Wan and Panaka joined
him in holding their tongues. "Your people and ours have never interacted,
because we have never had much in common. But we do share our world. The
Federation threatens to take it from us. Will your people stand with us to
stop this from happening?"
Jar Jar swallowed once. "My no know, your Highness. Wesa might'n be goin
to da bosses and askin dem for help -- nobody no listenin to mesa."
"I understand," Amidala said. "When we land, will you take us to your
bosses so we may make some arrangement?"
"Mesa tryin bery, bery hard to helpin yousa, your Highness."
"Thank you," she said. "That is all we can ask."
Obi-Wan spent the next several days avoiding his master, and being avoided
in turn. Neither of them slept for more than six hours at a time, and both
were accustomed to long periods of wakefulness, so there was never a time
when both were in the cabin at once. Qui-Gon was busy with Anakin,
observing and guiding the boy but not technically training him, following
the Council's order in word if not in spirit. Obi-Wan, for his part,
socialized with Panaka and the crew, chatted pleasantly with the queen and
her staff, and meditated.
He was angry, and frighteningly so, at his master's casual willingness to
discard him in favor of a younger, more potentially powerful apprentice.
Qui-Gon had immediately tried to cover his cruelty with a suggestion that
Obi-Wan take his trials and thus complete his training. That, at least,
showed he still cared what Obi-Wan thought of himself, and what he thought
Qui-Gon thought of him. Obi-Wan had felt threads of the older man's
distress penetrating his own anger -- miserable, abject apologies from a
proud man who knew he had wounded his lover. If Obi-Wan had felt
only
like a spurned lover, that might have been enough; but the fact that Qui-Gon
was evidently through training him tore at his heart and made his stomach
turn.
At least his master was true to his word. He had said Obi-Wan was ready,
had said he could teach him nothing more, and as the days passed Obi-Wan had
to concede that Qui-Gon did not try to pretend nothing had happened, did not
try to renege on that position. When they met, in corridors and
passageways, both were civil but distant: Qui-Gon treated him as he might
treat a colleague, albeit a very junior one, rather than a student. In an
unguarded moment, Obi-Wan sensed his master's anger, but also sensed it was
entirely self-directed. Qui-Gon was not angry at him.
That surprised him.
He knew he had done little, if anything, to provoke
his master's anger, and had stubbornly decided, with this in mind, not to
take the easy way out and apologize merely because it was expected of him.
Qui-Gon, though, seemed reluctant to approach him. Afraid to provoke
another outburst? Obi-Wan hadn't been unreasonable in his reactions. No,
Qui-Gon was afraid for Obi-Wan, not for himself; he feared hurting his
beloved apprentice any further, and so he avoided him until the younger man
was ready to face him.
Was he ready? Obi-Wan reflected on his own emotions. Anger -- he was
familiar with that. Anger at the public rejection, the equally-public
replacement, the apparent loss of Qui-Gon. He concentrated on his anger,
letting it boil away like steam from an uncovered pot. Misery, despair,
heartache. He was still, from time to time, desperately unhappy at the
prospect of life alone, without Qui-Gon before him, but his sense of
Qui-Gon's wretchedness tempered his own. He focused on his despair, letting
it bleed away like water soaking into parched soil. Betrayal. Qui-Gon, who
had always loved him, in whose life he had always been the most important
thing, had pre-empted him in favor of --
With a shock of recognition that physically set him reeling, Obi-Wan
saw that his vision had been realized. Everything he had felt in the
Council chamber at the debriefing had just been visited on him without his
noticing. He almost laughed at his paranoia -- he had known that something,
somehow, would take Qui-Gon from him, and had assumed this meant his master
was in danger or intending to leave him. He had completely failed to
consider that what separated them might
only separate them as master and
padawan, might be his promotion to the rank of knight, might have nothing to
do with danger of physical harm. The anger and the misery he had foreseen
were now realized in himself and his master; they related to the handling of
the situation, not the situation itself.
Master Yoda was always saying the future was in motion. For all his vision
had come true, it was not too late for Obi-Wan to repair his relationship
with his master. Qui-Gon the master still respected him, he knew, and
did
believe him ready for knighthood, and would never trade him for any other
apprentice. And Qui-Gon the man still loved him, and would never trade him
for anything.
At peace, Obi-Wan settled in his bunk to sleep away the last ship's night
before they landed.
They arrived on Naboo around midday, local time. The blockade was gone, and
they landed on the Gungan side of the planet, managing to avoid the
Federation patrols combing the surface. Qui-Gon and Anakin helped unload
the ship, while Obi-Wan went with Panaka to arrange a meeting-time with Jar
Jar. Sensing his padawan's return, Qui-Gon allowed Anakin to seek Padme,
the queen's handmaiden, with whom he had become friends; the boy could help
the women, if they needed it, leaving Qui-Gon free to make amends with
Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's mild surprise at finding him by himself, but
did not turn to look at him. The young man stopped, taking a moment to
choose his words. "Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan city, Master," he
said, not coldly or formally.
"Good." Qui-Gon could think of nothing else to say.
"Do you think the queen's idea will work?"
Qui-Gon did not want to argue again. "The Gungans will not easily be
swayed," he said -- a little shortly, he realized, once he heard his own
voice -- "and we cannot use our power to help her."
Obi-Wan hesitated, marshalling his thoughts with effort before speaking
again. "I -- I'm sorry for my behavior, Master."
It is I who should be
apologizing to you, Padawan. "It isn't my place to disagree with you about
the boy." Qui-Gon turned to look at him. "And I am grateful you think I'm
ready to take the trials. --"
This self-effacement had to stop. "You've been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan,"
Qui-Gon said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He noticed, or thought he
noticed, the tiniest gasp from Obi-Wan; the younger man had been craving
that touch as much as he had himself. "And you're a wiser man than I am,"
he added, projecting all his faith and trust and love and hoping Obi-Wan
absorbed some of it. "I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."
Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and Qui-Gon felt the shoulder muscle under his hand
tense. "A good apprentice, Master?" he repeated. "A great knight?"
"Yes, Obi-Wan. Probably one of the greatest the order will ever --"
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan said harshly, stunning him into silence. "You have more
than done your part to assure me that you value me as a padawan. And now if
you don't kiss me soon I think my head may explode."
The threat made Qui-Gon's knees weak. Shifting his grip from Obi-Wan's
shoulder to his braid, he drew the younger man -- eyes still closed --
slowly towards him. His other hand drifted to the opposite side of the
upturned face, thumb at the cheekbone, fingertips at the jaw, as he leaned
down to comply with his Obi-Wan's demand. Softly, softly, he breathed a
kiss onto the upper lip, feeling his lover's breath catch and his own
stomach tighten. He moved to the lower lip, soft press to the yielding
warmth, and was rewarded with another gasp and a checked moan. He wasn't
sure how long he could keep this up. He parted his lips and ghosted them
past Obi-Wan's, not quite touching, nudging the end of Obi-Wan's nose with
the end of his own, just touching those parted lips, tasting one corner of
the open mouth, a nuzzle, a touch, and then his lips covered his lover's and
he drew the groan straight from Obi-Wan's throat to his own, returning it in
kind, slowly tasting the insides of his lips and the roof of his mouth and
never, ever holding still.
When Obi-Wan groaned again and stepped closer, bringing their bodies
together, Qui-Gon reluctantly eased away from the embrace, pressing kisses
to the closed eyelids, tracing the swollen lips with his thumb. "Think that
will hold you until we have some time to ourselves?" he whispered. "Say,
later when we don't have a Gungan boss to persuade of the worthiness of our
cause?" Not opening his eyes, Obi-Wan nodded briefly but did not step away.
"Yes?" Eyes still closed, the younger man took a deep breath and shook
his head. "No, nor me," Qui-Gon growled, hauling his lover back into his
arms. Obi-Wan kissed him roughly, his mouth opening wide as though he
expected to be able to swallow him whole. Both men's hands were everywhere,
over robes, under tunics, touching and stroking and gripping and finally
Obi-Wan slipped an arm around Qui-Gon's neck and pulled, tumbling both of
them to the ground, hidden for the moment by the foliage.
"Hurry," Obi-Wan muttered on a breath, writhing beneath Qui-Gon's greater
weight. Sashes were untied, tunics pushed aside but not removed, leggings
shoved down to the knees and tangled in boot-tops. Unable to move either
pair of legs, Qui-Gon aligned his throbbing erection with Obi-Wan's and
ground them together, hard. One strangled shout escaped Obi-Wan's lips
before Qui-Gon was devouring him again, one hand above his head to keep him
from sliding away, the other between their bodies holding their erections
together, Obi-Wan's hands at his ribs with two fistfuls of tunic, pulling
Qui-Gon closer with every ounce of his adrenaline-aided strength. Qui-Gon
came first, but only by an instant, and after a frenzied few seconds of
convulsing madly he collapsed, still trying to take his weight on his elbows
over his lover's now-strengthless body, tearing their mouths apart and
panting for air with his head hanging over Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan's
chest rose and fell rapidly as he, too, gasped for oxygen.
When they could both breathe normally, Qui-Gon claimed Obi-Wan's mouth in
one last deep, thorough, hasty kiss, pulling away to say "That should do for
now." Obi-Wan smiled weakly but happily, his eyes still closed. "I've
missed you, my love," the older man added, to which Obi-Wan smiled again and
nodded. "But we should clean ourselves up before Jar Jar comes back."
Obi-Wan sighed and sat up, tacitly agreeing.
Qui-Gon had just buckled his belt when they heard the rustle of their
companions' approach. "Just in time," Obi-Wan murmured with a smile. Jar
Jar climbed out of the marsh just as Panaka reached their side, accompanied
by Anakin, the queen, and her handmaidens.
"Deresa nobody dere," said Jar Jar, apparently puzzled by this -- although,
Obi-Wan reflected, everything seemed to puzzle the creature. "Da Gungan
city is deserted. Some kinda fighting, mesa tinks."
"Do you think they've been taken to the camps?" Obi-Wan prompted.
"More likely they were wiped out," said Panaka, ever the soul of optimism.
"Mesa no tink so," Jar Jar said to the captain.
"Do you know where they are, Jar Jar?" Qui-Gon sounded as frustrated as
Obi-Wan felt at the Gungan's tendency to answer only the specific question
that had been asked.
"When in trouble, Gungans go to sekred place. Mesa show you. Come on, mesa
show you!"
A short walk later -- both Jedi relieved that no swimming was involved this
time -- the party arrived at a glen hidden deeper in the forest. Icons and
statuary lay scattered about the clearing; Obi-Wan saw Boss Nass and his
colleagues seated atop a broken collossus. Jar Jar conferred with the same
mounted, mustached Gungan they had met at the underwater city; this other
rode forward and addressed the bosses directly.
"Your Honor," he said. "Queen Amidala of da Naboo."
"Uh," Jar Jar added, "hello dere, big Boss Nass Your Honor."
"Binksss!" the boss bellowed. "Oossa ooden all dis?"
The girl dressed as the queen stepped forward. "I am Queen Amidala of the
Naboo," she said. "I come before you in peace."
"Ah!" Nass turned his attention to her. "Naboo bigun. Yousa bringin da
mekaniks. Yousa all bombad." That hadn't gone as well as they'd hoped. As
long as the Gungans blamed the Naboo for the arrival of the battle droids,
no agreement was likely.
"We have searched you out," the girl persisted, "because we wish to form an
alliance."
"Your Honor," another voice spoke up. Padme, the handmaiden, stepped
forward.
"Whosa dis?" Boss Nass demanded.
"
I am Queen Amidala," Padme announced. "This is my decoy, my protection."
She gestured to the other girl. "My loyal bodyguard." Peripherally,
Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon glance over at him, both eyebrows raised and a smile
tugging at his lips. Obi-Wan studiously ironed his own smirk into his best
sorry-to-have-deceived-you-Master expression and looked back at his
boot-tips. "I'm sorry for my deception," the queen continued, "but it was
necessary to protect myself.
"Although we do not always agree, Your Honor, our two great societies have
always lived in peace." The boss grunted at this, but did not argue. "The
Trade Federation has destroyed all that we have worked so hard to build. If
we do not act quickly, all will be lost forever. I ask you to help us."
She dropped to her knees. "No, I beg you to help us." Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon
knelt as well, and the rest of the assembly followed suit. "We are your
humble servants. Our fate is in your hands."
After a moment of surprise, Boss Nass laughed out loud. For a tense second
Obi-Wan feared that even the real queen's efforts at diplomacy -- defer,
defer, defer -- far superior to her stand-in's -- had failed, and the Naboo
would have to fight the Federation alone. The Gungan boss was still
laughing. "Yousa no tinkin yousa greater dan da Gungans?" The girl shook
her head, and the boss laughed again. "Mesa lika dis! Maybe wesa -- being
friends!"
At his gesture, the gathered suppliants rose to their feet, smiles of
disbelief on all their faces. The boss himself climbed down from his perch.
After a brief but extremely pregnant silence, Jar Jar's mustached friend
laughed out loud and slapped Panaka on the back. The startled captain
hesitated for a moment, then slapped back, laughing, and soon all the
Gungans and Naboo soldiers were chatting merrily and shaking hands with
their new compatriots.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan remained removed from the relieved quasi-celebration.
Obi-Wan felt his master's eyes on him. "You knew about this masquerade,
Padawan?" He sounded amused.
"Yes, Master."
"It was well-executed."
"It is Her Highness who is to be commended for that, not I, Master."
"Of course. And Her Not Actually Highness as well."
"Naturally." For a moment, neither spoke, simply watching the mingling
crowd from the periphery. "I am sorry to have deceived you, Master."
"Do not apologize, Padawan. As you say, the responsibility lies with the
ladies."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan was cut off from making further comment by Padme --
Amidala -- the actual queen, calling for everyone's attention. He turned
his eyes upon the girl even as he reflected that he still didn't know, with
any kind of certainty, whether his master had been aware of the
identity-switch or not. He smiled to himself. That was what made Qui-Gon
such a prized negotiator; he could speak absolute truth and still not reveal
a thing, making those who heard him decide for themselves what they had been
promised.
"We must devise a plan for reclaiming our world," the queen announced.
"The army will certainly have been captured," Panaka reminded everyone.
"We know we can't depend on our army," Padme answered, turning to Boss Nass.
"Your Honor, our city is occupied, and we must move to reclaim it. Is
your capital under Federation control as well?"
"No no." The boss shook his head. "Wesa leavin dere before da mekaniks
come. Deysa tinkin is deserted."
"Which explains why there aren't patrols in this area," Padme said, nodding.
"Captain. How soon could you get back to Theed and return with as many
fighters as possible?"
"Going around the short side, but allowing for the fact that we'll have to
hide from the Federation patrols -- probably less than a day, your
Highness," the captain concluded.
"Then take these soldiers with you," the queen declared. "And good luck."
Panaka and the soldiers bowed and moved away to plan what was essentially a
rescue mission.
The Gungans were clearing away, disappearing back into the woods; the
bosses, however, remained, waiting to meet privately with the true queen,
who was still speaking to the rest of her group. "Until tomorrow morning, I
suggest we all stay hidden. The Federation is searching especially for Sabe
and for me, but not one of you is entirely safe. We must remain here in the
forest; nobody go off alone. Everyone is to remain with at least one
partner at all times." Obi-Wan was aware that he inched the tiniest bit
closer to Qui-Gon at this pronouncement. They watched the small group of
women break off: Rabe, Sabe and Eirtae clustered together, and Sache and
Yane were about to turn to Padme when she said "Anakin, you'll stay with me,
won't you?"
She said it with a smile, almost indulgently, but managed not to sound
patronizing. The boy's face lit up. "Sure!" he said, enthusiastically,
then immediately turned to Qui-Gon. "I mean --"
Obi-Wan saw his master nod once, and bit his tongue to keep from smiling.
Anakin stepped to the girl's side, little chest puffed up with pride at
being trusted with the safety of a queen. Padme ruffled his hair fondly,
and the meeting was evidently adjourned. The other handmaidens had drifted
away, and Obi-Wan was about to suggest they do the same, when Qui-Gon spoke
to the queen over Anakin's head. "Thank you," he whispered. "You'll call
us if you need us?"
"Certainly, Master Jedi," she replied. "But assuming we shan't need you,
we'll see you tomorrow midmorning." She turned to steer Anakin toward the
waiting Gungan bosses, but not before glancing at Obi-Wan and giving him a
wink.
For several moments, Obi-Wan simply gaped in the direction the girl and the
Gungan party had departed. When they had disappeared, and the clearing was
empty, he heard Qui-Gon turn to face him and try to hide his laugh behind a
cough. "Always glad to amuse, Master," he murmured, snaking his arms inside
the dark cloak and around the sturdy waist. "Where can we go?"
"Well, anywhere, really --" Qui-Gon gasped as Obi-Wan's tongue darted into
the hollow of his throat -- "but not here. Sacred place." He leaned down
for a kiss.
"You got 'sacred?'" Obi-Wan asked when Qui-Gon left his lips in favor of
cheekbones and earlobes. "I thought he said it was a
secret place --
where no one will find us." Qui-Gon had reached the spot, at the top corner
of his jaw, guaranteed to weaken his knees. Obi-Wan grabbed the bigger
man's shoulders with both hands and hung on.
"Perhaps it is both," Qui-Gon suggested, nipping once more before setting
the younger man away. "Not a chance we want to take. Come along." He
turned on his heel and strode into the forest.
Qui-Gon was walking briskly, his steps long and purposeful. Obi-Wan
followed without speaking. After several minutes, though, they had reached
a glade where the only sound they heard was the occasional chirp of insects
and other pond life. "Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan called, stopping.
Qui-Gon turned and looked at his apprentice. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and
spread his hands, gesturing to the area around them. Qui-Gon looked around,
nodded approvingly, and took a slow, predatory step toward his lover.
Obi-Wan smiled. He could feel the tension crackling between them.
Qui-Gon's hair hung around his face and Obi-Wan could feel his heated gaze
on his lips. The master took another step.
Impatient, Obi-Wan covered the distance between them quickly, dropping his
cloak over his shoulders and flinging himself into his master's arms. He
leapt on to the taller body, hooking a leg around a hip and winding his arms
around Qui-Gon's neck as he kissed lips, eyelids, ears, and every part he
could get near. He felt strong hands on his back and ribs, and realized
Qui-Gon was speaking to him. "Shh ... shh ... slowly, love, slowly," he
murmured, gentling the embrace and smoothing the excitement away. "There's
no hurry, my Obi-Wan. We have all night ..."
With that, he set the younger man back on his feet and stood for a long
moment looking at him. His hands at his sides, Obi-Wan could feel every
muscle in his body begin to tremble under the strain of not throwing his
lover to the forest floor and having his way with him immediately. Qui-Gon
stepped forward again and took Obi-Wan's head in both hands, leaning forward
and pressing a warm kiss to the forehead at the hairline. Obi-Wan scarcely
dared to breathe. His eyes closed as Qui-Gon slowly, softly, kissed the
outside corner of each brow. The maddening slowness continued as Obi-Wan
felt kisses underneath the inside corner of each eye, then the spot on each
side of his face where his jaw met his ear. From the right ear, never
picking up the pace or the intensity, Qui-Gon trailed kisses across
Obi-Wan's cheek, finally settling on his mouth.
Their lips parted slowly, their tongues slid together smoothly, and before
Obi-Wan could immerse himself in the kiss it was over. Qui-Gon had tilted
his head back with his hands and was pressing the same gentle kisses to his
neck, throat, collarbone -- the large hands drifted down to dispense with
belt and sash so tunics could be pushed reverently off Obi-Wan's shoulders.
Not missing a beat, Qui-Gon kissed over one shoulder, all the way down the
arm to the hand and back up again, across the breastbone, down the other arm
and back, then proceeded with the same infernal slowness across the chest
and down the abdomen. There were no exceptions -- each kiss was as soft and
sweet as the one before. He didn't bite at nipples or lick at ribs. By the
time his hands settled at the waistband of Obi-Wan's leggings, the young man
thought he would shake apart.
Slowly, infuriatingly so, the big gentle hands rid him of his boots and
leggings. Resting on his hips, they held him still as Qui-Gon knelt and
pressed his kisses down Obi-Wan's left leg, turning where his toes met his
foot and travelling back up the inside. When Qui-Gon's lips touched the
crease of his left knee, Obi-Wan nearly lost his control and shifted his
balance to his right leg. Qui-Gon reached the left hip, slowly kissed his
way across Obi-Wan's body just below the navel, and repeated the treatment
on the right leg. Obi-Wan heard himself moan in frustration, and when the
kiss reached the crease of his right knee, that knee buckled without warning
and he gave Qui-Gon his weight.
Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan sink to his knees before laying him back on a bed of his
own cloak. The larger man loomed over him for a moment, kissed his
cheekbone one more time, then slid warm hands down his body to rest again at
his hips, as Qui-Gon lowered his head and pressed the same soft, slow kisses
to his lover's rampant erection. Obi-Wan clenched his fists, gritted his
teeth, shut his eyes as tight as he could until he saw stars -- and it
worked. He didn't know how, but he managed to keep a leash on his control
and not come in Qui-Gon's mouth the instant he was taken inside. The hands
on his hips steadied his urge to thrust as Qui-Gon licked and sucked, slow
and warm, down and up, prolonging the agony and the ecstasy beyond all
previously known limits. Obi-Wan could tell the end was near, and tried to
say so, but could produce nothing more than a gurgle; nevertheless, Qui-Gon
slid a hand between his legs, cupping the sac with his palm and pressing
slightly with a finger against the spot he knew would send Obi-Wan over the
edge.
And it did. Crying out wordlessly, Obi-Wan arched his back and kicked his
legs and spurted into his lover's mouth. Qui-Gon opened his throat and took
it all, letting it pour into him, swallowing quickly and lapping away the
overflow. When Obi-Wan finally collapsed back onto the ground, breathing
heavily, he found the strength to reach a hand toward the man sprawled over
his legs. Qui-Gon smiled and pulled himself up to lie next to his young
lover, on his side, leaning his head on one hand, twirling the padawan braid
around his finger.
"That wasn't nice," Obi-Wan said.
"You loved it," Qui-Gon answered mildly, kissing his lips and moving down to
the neck.
"Sometimes, Qui-Gon," he continued, regaining his breath. "Sometimes it's
okay to throw your thrice-damned control to the four winds."
"Indeed?" The older man flicked his tongue over Obi-Wan's collarbone. "You
surprise me, love. In all the years I've known you, I've never seen any
evidence of impulsive or impetuous behavior."
There was a smile in his voice as he spoke, and Obi-Wan sat up and pushed at
a shoulder. Qui-Gon pushed back, lightly, and Obi-Wan pushed again with a
laugh. They were scuffling like children at play.
Before he had finished the thought, he was flat on his back, arms flailing,
legs uselessly bracketed by the larger man's knees. Qui-Gon dived in and
kissed him, fiercely, to within an inch of his life, holding him down with
one big hand on his shoulder and tugging at his own belt with the other.
Obi-Wan squirmed and struggled, pushing his lover away so he could sit up,
reaching frantically to help him undress. He assumed responsibility for the
belt and sash as Qui-Gon leaned over to unfasten his boots, but they both
soon realized it would be quicker to trade places. Obi-Wan's nimble fingers
had the boots unfastened and were tugging at leggings by the time Qui-Gon
had shed his belt, sash and tunics. The older man kicked his legs, sending
his leggings in a bunch away from his feet, and flew at Obi-Wan again.
"Faster?" he growled. "Harder? You're on." He sank his teeth into
Obi-Wan's shoulder, and the young man shouted out loud. Qui-Gon covered the
lean body with bruising kisses, scraping his teeth and beard against the
sensitized skin, as he reached up and hooked three fingers over Obi-Wan's
bottom teeth.
Obi-Wan felt the tug and immediately closed his mouth over the fingers,
massaging them with his tongue, slicking them thoroughly. Qui-Gon sat up on
his knees, pulling Obi-Wan by the jaw to follow him. Obi-Wan continued
sucking Qui-Gon's fingers, sucking hard, as Qui-Gon sat on his heels and
Obi-Wan wound his legs around the bigger man's hips, settling on his thighs.
Qui-Gon's free arm wrapped around Obi-Wan's back; he dragged his fingers
from the younger man's mouth and reached behind him to slide inside.
Obi-Wan leaned forward, latched his mouth onto a nipple, and kept right on
sucking.
Qui-Gon threw his head back, the hand bracing Obi-Wan's back drifting up to
hold his head where it was, the finger inside him joined by a second.
Obi-Wan pressed his erection into his lover's and transferred his attention
to the opposite side of his chest, biting and then licking the spot under
the arm where the breastbone gave way to the ribs. He dragged his teeth
back toward the center of Qui-Gon's body, scraping his way up toward the
other nipple, digging his fingernails into the broad shoulders when he felt
the third finger slip inside to stretch him.
He could hardly bear it. Shaking his head out from Qui-Gon's grasp, Obi-Wan
seized that hand and spit in it, as good as ordering the man to lubricate
immediately. Qui-Gon obeyed; Obi-Wan swung one ankle up to rest on a
shoulder as Qui-Gon took his hips in both hands, leaned in for a kiss that
fairly drew his soul from his body, and guided him down onto his straining,
impatient length.
Qui-Gon's hands were strong and his grip was sure, and Obi-Wan surrendered
all control and simply clung to his lover as the older man raised and
lowered him, pumping with his own hips as well, thrusting rapidly until,
eyes and mouth wide open, he froze, jerked once more, and streamed into
Obi-Wan's body. The sudden warmth inside him triggered Obi-Wan's own
orgasm, and he shuddered and groaned in his lover's arms.
Both men slid to the ground, sprawling, boneless, speechless. They lay down
on Qui-Gon's cloak, wrapped in each other's arms and legs, and covered
themselves with Obi-Wan's. With the very last of his strength, Obi-Wan used
the Force to summon their clothes to their side, where they could reach them
quickly in the morning; after a last, slow, lingering kiss, they slept.
Qui-Gon woke before sunrise, in the dim grey light of dawn. Obi-Wan lay in
front of him, head pillowed on his arm, nestled in the curve of his body.
The young man was shivering, though he was still deeply asleep. Qui-Gon
tightened his embrace. Obi-Wan only shook harder, and Qui-Gon gently nudged
him so he would turn in his sleep, turn to face the older man and curl,
instinctively, even closer to his body. Obi-Wan did turn, and did huddle
closer against Qui-Gon, and did not stop shivering when his lover wrapped
both arms snugly around him to warm him.
Not from cold, Qui-Gon thought.
Obi-Wan mumbled something against Qui-Gon's chest, and twitched.
A dream,
then -- a nightmare. [[Wake, love.]] He concentrated, wafting a
suggestion, a sense, a feeling, into Obi-Wan's mind. [[Wake, my Obi-Wan.
You are safe here with me.]] "Obi?" he said out loud. "Wake for me --"
Suddenly, the young man's arm around him tensed and tightened; Obi-Wan
mumbled again and his eyes flew open. He shuddered. "Master?"
"Right here."
"The vision again, Master."
"It came to you in your sleep?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "Something is going to separate us. I could feel anger and
fear and all sorts of darkness."
"Obi-Wan, does it not seem to you that what separates us may be your trials
and knighting?"
"Yes, Master, I had the same thought. But if I know this, why does the
vision still appear?"
"In my experience, Padawan, a premonition does not visit to share previously
unknown information; it merely sheds light on what we already know."
"But the light has been shed," Obi-Wan muttered, frustrated and miserable.
"I am unhappy at the prospect of my knighthood separating us. Do I need the
Force to keep telling me this? I know it's going to happen. I know I'll be
unhappy. Can't the vision go away and leave me in peace?"
"Shh, love ... does the fact that you know it will come make you dread it any
less?"
"No, Master."
"When we see the future, we see what has not yet occurred -- not what we do
not yet know will occur. Once you are knighted, whether we are separated or
not, this vision will pass."
"Yes, Master," the apprentice grumbled.
"Or," Qui-Gon said, after a moment, "you might want to lay off the spicy
food." He felt Obi-Wan's ribs jerk as he chuckled. [[Be calm,]] he urged.
[[Nothing to fear.]]
"Just as you say, love," Obi-Wan murmured, settling himself on top of
Qui-Gon's body. "Just as you say." He lowered his head as Qui-Gon raised
his, their lips meeting in a warm, languorous kiss. Their mouths opened,
the kiss deepened, their hands slid over each other's bodies, and they made
slow, gentle love in the early-morning light, before rising, dressing, and
finding their way back to the group.
At the edge of the forest, on the border with a vast, undulating grassland,
Padme was studying a two-dimensional floor plan of her palace while Anakin
chatted excitedly with some Gungans nearby. The queen's handmaidens hovered
near her, ready to do her bidding. "Good morning, Your Majesty," Qui-Gon
said with a bow.
"Good morning, Master Jedi. I believe the bosses and I have arrived at a
plan of attack which should prove successful."
"I am glad to hear it. I presume, though, that it depends upon the safe
arrival of at least a small Naboo force?"
"It does. If Panaka met no dangers, he should be --"
"They're here!" Anakin shouted, running toward the group from a half-sunken
statue head with a Gungan lookout atop it.
"Good," Padme said, sighing with relief. "They made it."
Looking across the rolling hills, Qui-Gon could see a handful of speeders,
each carrying a handful of fighters. Not a formidable opponent for any
army, much less the Trade Federation's droids. "Captain," he bowed, as
Panaka and his group disembarked and moved toward their queen.
"Your Highness," Panaka began.
"What is the situation?" the girl asked.
Panaka sighed slightly. "Almost everyone is in camps. A few hundred police
and guards have formed an underground resistance movement. I brought back
as many of the leaders as I could." He gestured to those who had come with
him, then glanced at the Jedi and assembled Gungans. "The Federation army
is also much larger than we thought. And much stronger. Your Highness,
this is a battle I do not think we can win."
"The battle is a diversion," Padme said, her voice carrying surprising
authority for a young woman advising her own military on battle strategy.
"The Gungans must draw the droid army
away from the cities. Artoo?" The
little droid rolled up to the group, beeped, and projected a holographic map
of the city of Theed. "We can enter the city using the secret passages on
the waterfall side," Padme explained, indicating this detail. "Once we get
to the main entrance, Captain Panaka will create a diversion. Then we can
enter the palace and capture the Viceroy. Without the Viceroy, they will be
lost and confused." She turned toward Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "What do you
think, Master Jedi?"
"The Viceroy will be well guarded," Qui-Gon cautioned.
"The difficulty's getting into the throne room," Panaka said. "Once we're
inside, we shouldn't have a problem."
"There is a possibility," Qui-Gon added, turning to Boss Nass, "with this
diversion, that many Gungans will be killed."
The rotund boss threw his chest out proudly. "Wesa ready to do oosen part."
"We have a plan which should immobilize the droid army," Padme assured her
allies. "We will send what pilots we have to knock out the droid control
ship orbiting the planet."
"A well-conceived plan," Qui-Gon said. "However, there's great risk. The
weapons on your fighters may not penetrate the shields."
"And there's an even bigger danger." Obi-Wan spoke up for the first time.
"If the Viceroy escapes, Your Highness, he will return with another droid
army."
The queen looked at the Jedi apprentice as though he had just told her that
if it rained, the ground would get wet. "Well, that is why we must not fail
to capture the Viceroy," she said. "Everything depends on it."
"If we hurry, Your Highness," said Panaka, "and travel against the rotation,
we can reach Theed by midday.
"Then let us hurry," the queen agreed. "Your Honor, your people can arrange
transport for your army, is that correct?"
"Wesa taken care of everyting," Boss Nass told her. "Wesa no liken da Naboo
bongo no way."
"Very well," Padme decided. "There is room for all of us in the Captain's
transports; I suggest we leave at once."
In fact, they did reach Theed by midday. With some fancy piloting to evade
the droids and well-placed Force-suggestions to evade the sentients, the
small force managed to land in a rarely-traveled corner of the city and
stealthily make their way to the city's main plaza. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and
Anakin stayed with the queen and half the group, approaching from one
direction, while Panaka and the other half took a circuitous route and
arrived on the opposite side. Padme and Panaka exchanged light signals to
advise each other of the relative safety of their situations. Qui-Gon
crouched down to speak to Anakin. "Once we're inside, Ani," he said, "I
want you to find a safe place to hide and stay there."
"Sure," Anakin said, with a good-natured nod.
Qui-Gon wasn't sure the boy understood the danger of the situation. "And
stay there," he repeated. But then it was time to run.
Several droids had noticed their presence and broken into a mechanical run,
firing on the small group of resistants. Padme's troops immediately
returned fire, running a block so the queen and her immediate retinue could
hurry inside. Inside the hangar, Qui-Gon saw Anakin scurry under a fighter
ship, and was glad the boy had heeded his instructions; he had no time to
concentrate on that, though, as he and Obi-Wan used their lightsabers to
deflect blaster bolts away from the queen. As often as possible, they
bounced the fire straight back to the shooter, destroying the droids
themselves. Padme, gun in one hand, waved to her pilots with the other.
"Get to your ships!" she cried, and as one, they obeyed. The ships took off
one at a time, distracting the droids enough that Panaka and his segment of
the fighting force could join the skirmish and end it. "My guess is the
Viceroy is in the throne room," Padme said when the dust had settled. She
turned to Qui-Gon, implicitly asking his opinion.
"I agree," he said, the whole group heading for the hangar's exit.
"Hey," a child's voice called, "wait for me!"
Not breaking his stride, Qui-Gon looked up and saw Anakin in the cockpit of
the last fighter, one that had not taken off. "No, Ani," he said, "you stay
there. Stay right where you are."
"But I --"
"Stay in that cockpit," Qui-Gon warned, and was again glad the boy obeyed --
however grudgingly. The group continued toward the exit.
Then, suddenly, they all stopped in their tracks. The red-and-black-faced
Sith Qui-Gon had met on Tatooine was there in front of them. Padme, Panaka
and the Naboo troops backed away instinctively. Qui-Gon, with Obi-Wan at
his side, stepped forward. "We'll handle this," he said.
"We'll take the long way," the queen instructed, redirecting her group to a
side exit.
Qui-Gon shrugged off his cloak and tossed it to the floor; Obi-Wan did the
same. Across the hangar from them, the Sith dropped its own cloak and drew
its lightsaber.
The handle, Qui-Gon thought as he drew his own weapon.
That's the longest handle I've ever seen on a --
The Sith had a lightsaber that lit at both ends.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, blades in hand, ran at the creature. In moments, they
were engaged in a sword-and-staff fight the like of which Qui-Gon could
scarcely remember ever having seen before. There were two of them, and one
of it, and they seemed well-matched. This Sith was a fearsome opponent
indeed.
Swing, dodge, duck, parry. The Sith kicked Qui-Gon in the chin, and he
reeled. Slide, run, swing, block. As Qui-Gon got to his feet, Obi-Wan
followed the creature toward the open doorway between the hangar and the
palace's power center. Parry, spin, strike, kick. Just as Qui-Gon rejoined
the fight, the Sith kicked Obi-Wan in the chest. It could manipulate the
fact that, while on opposite sides of it, the two Jedi presented a very real
danger to each other. Jab, dodge, strike, block. Together, they pressed
their opponent back and gained an advantage, cornering it at the edge of a
platform around the perimeter of the core; but it jumped back and landed
with both feet on a causeway on the other side of a chasm. Together, they
jumped over to join it. Duck, strike, parry, sweep.
Obi-Wan had been holding his own, but before long the Sith shoved him
backwards and he fell off the edge of the causeway. The padawan soared
through the air, managing to catch hold of a platform two levels down and
hang on. Qui-Gon spared precisely one blink of one eye to be grateful for
this, but kept his attention on his opponent, who now had him out-armed.
Qui-Gon's left fist came down in a backhand across the Sith's left
cheekbone, knocking it over the side. It landed one level down; Qui-Gon
hopped down after it, and landed swinging. Parry, duck, spin, attack.
Behind the creature, he could see a passageway, blocked by cycling energy
doors, leading -- well, leading someplace smaller than this cavernous core,
at any rate, someplace where they might stand a chance of cornering it. He
pressed back. The Sith retreated toward the energy doors. Through the
Force, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan spring back up to the catwalk he was on
and run to catch up with the fight. The Sith was through the first door,
and the second. Qui-Gon was through the first. Obi-Wan was running behind
him. The Sith was through the next door, and the next. It passed the last
door and the red field cycled shut between them. Obi-Wan had not passed the
first when it closed.
On the other side of the energy shield, the Sith paced and stared at
Qui-Gon. It hit the field with its lightsaber a couple of times, making
sure it was impenetrable. Qui-Gon knelt and closed his eyes, deactivating
his saber, finding his center. He could sense Obi-Wan's frustration, back
at the beginning of the door cycle, and stretched out to calm the younger
man. He took a deep breath. Eyes closed. Soon, soon --
The door opened and his blade was in his hand and the Sith was in front of
him fighting harder than ever. Attack, parry, spin, dodge.
The remaining doors were opening in a cycle, inside to outside. Swing,
strike, lunge, retreat. When the door in front of Obi-Wan finally opened,
Qui-Gon could feel the impatient young man rush forward, anxious to rejoin
the battle; but before his apprentice reached him, Qui-Gon heard the first
door close again, and Obi-Wan was trapped, caught behind one layer of
energy-shielding, so close to his side and yet, practically speaking, as far
away as if he had never existed.
Parry, spin, attack, recover. Right, around, duck, leap. Dodge, advance,
lunge, block. Left, step, over the head, and in an instant the handle of
the Sith warrior's saber caught Qui-Gon under the chin and there wasn't
enough time and he could feel his padawan's helpless distress as before he
had a chance to bring his weapon down or even take a step away it was over.
The angry red lightsaber cored him. Behind the door, Obi-Wan screamed. For
a moment Qui-Gon could feel exactly where the saber pierced his chest, and
where it came through his back; but that didn't last long, and soon the
pain, too great to control, had oozed and spread like a living thing and
filled his whole body. The Sith withdrew its blade and stepped back with a
sneer. Qui-Gon felt his arms curl in front of the hole in his breast and he
fell.
He fell. He saw the floor coming up towards him and could not stretch out a
hand to break the impact. He managed to turn slightly and catch his weight
on his shoulder rather than his face, but it was his left shoulder, the
wounded side, and he was surprised to find that jarring that side of his
body, the side with the wound, caused it to hurt even more. He wouldn't
have thought it possible.
He could hear the energy doors cycling open, could sense Obi-Wan's fury
howling through the Force, could hear the young man's rushing footsteps as
he came fully into the reactor core. Qui-Gon heard the clash of
light-blades as the battle was again joined. He drew a gasping half-breath
into his one remaining lung. The blow had missed his heart. It was going
to take him a long time to die.
Strike, strike, parry, dodge, thrust, recover, spin, lash, and the Sith's
two-bladed lightsaber was split in half at the handle. Obi-Wan barely
noticed the slight rush of satisfaction at this small victory. His focus
was on the demon in front of him, with an occasional mental glance in
Qui-Gon's direction. The older man lay quietly, but his presence was still
firm in Obi-Wan's consciousness. Spin, dodge, parry, advance. He judged it
safe to try to project a thought. [[Master, hang on, I'll --]]
[[Stop it, Obi ... focus,]] was all Qui-Gon could manage.
Leap, flip, strike, spin, sweep dodge sweep and a Force-push like the wall
of a building hit him in the face. His weapon was knocked from his hand and
his balance was gone and he was falling backwards and the Sith
must not
win and quick like lightning he reached out and grabbed at a nozzle
protruding from the interior wall of the great pit.
He struggled to maintain his grip -- on the nozzle, the situation, and
Qui-Gon's Force-essence. [[Master!]] he pleaded, instinctively projecting
his distress. But he knew his master could not help him now. He was
hanging from his fingers above a bottomless pit, and even should he manage
to hoist himself back up to the rim, his adversary had a weapon and he had
none.
He felt Qui-Gon's suggestion flow to him. [[Use ... Force, Obi ...]]
[[I ... my hands are slipping, Master, and I -- ]] he protested. The Sith,
leering smugly, struck the rim of the pit with his lightsaber and sent
sparks showering down over Obi-Wan.
[[Concentrate, Padawan.]]
[[I'm -- ]]
[[
Concentrate!]]
Obi-Wan felt the other man falter. He lay dying and was still trying to
reach out and help his apprentice. [[Master, no, your strength -- heal
yourself, Master,]] he insisted. The Sith was looking, puzzled, between the
two of them. It had evidently not realized Qui-Gon had not died instantly.
But how could it not? So strong in the Force ... maybe it could read their
minds.
[[Use ... here.]] Stubbornly, Qui-Gon reached out with his failing
Force-strength to nudge his own dropped lightsaber in Obi-Wan's direction.
Obi-Wan saw the lightsaber wobble in its place. Qui-Gon was too weak to
move it. Above him, the Sith snarled with supposed victory. Gritting his
teeth, Obi-Wan called on the Force and pulled himself up into the air,
flying gracefully above his opponent's head, calling his master's weapon to
his hand. In the single instant of the Sith's surprise, Obi-Wan lit the
green blade, bared his teeth, and sliced the striped warrior through the
middle. With a look of utter bewilderment frozen on its features, the Sith
fell backwards into the pit, splitting neatly at the waist on its way down
into the bottomless depths.
Obi-Wan flung his master's lightsaber to the floor and rushed to the older
man's side, gathering his fallen lover into his lap and reaching out with
the Force, all his attention now devoted to healing the burned hole in his
chest. "It is ... too late," Qui-Gon gasped. "It's ..."
"No!" Obi-Wan concentrated harder, channeling all his energy toward the man
in his arms.
"Obi-Wan ... promise ..."
[[Don't speak, Master, please, beloved, save your strength ...]]
Qui-Gon was failing fast, his head supported by Obi-Wan's hand. Obi-Wan
could sense his master was calling on every ounce of Force strength just to
breathe, and could no longer spare any attention to answer the student's
projected thoughts. He persisted in
speaking, though, blast him.
"Promise me you'll train the boy ..."
"Yes, Master."
One shaking hand reached up to brush away tears Obi-Wan hadn't realized he
was shedding. "He is ... the chosen one ..."
[[Master,
please, stop ...]] Obi-Wan felt the strong, solid life presence
seeping away, joining the whole, like a block of ice melting into a lake.
Frantically, he tried to lift it, to separate the ice from the water that
would consume it.
"He will ... bring balance ..."
[[I promise! Will you save your energy?!]] Obi-Wan was losing. He could
feel that he was near hysteria, and redoubled his efforts at life-support --
but the ice continued to melt, slipping away even as he struggled to hold
on.
"Train him!" Qui-Gon's voice was a raspy whisper. The hand fell back to
his side. His eyes drifted closed.
[[
QUI-GON!]]
[[... And I love you,]] Qui-Gon's essence whispered, as the last of the
melting ice trickled through Obi-Wan's fingers and fell into the water.
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