Master Apprentice Archive Ascension Quick search:

Ascension

by Artemis ( jedilover99@hotmail.com )

Archive: M_A and my site, http://www.geocities.com/jedilover99/

Pairing: Qui/Obi, Obi/Other

Rating: NC-17

Category: Angst, AU

Warnings: None

Disclaimer: George.

Feedback: Yes, please!

Author's note: Many thanks to my beta and good friend, Alex, for all her support and advice in my writing and in life. And thanks also to sweet Mona, for giving this an additional read through.

Summary: When the Jedi Council sends a team of Jedi to assist Qui-Gon Jinn in furthering his negotiations during a tricky mission, Qui-Gon feels resentment, but also finds himself falling in love with a Jedi padawan who has a secret that could destroy them both.

"Knowledge is to be shared."

The words haunted Qui-Gon Jinn as he stared up at the closed and locked doors of the Great Archives on Tracep I. The motto was carved ornately in the impressive white granite entrance, but now they seemed only a mockery of greed. How could a people whose very lives centered around the dissemination of knowledge turn against each other in a civil war that not only threatened their own cluster of planets, but the very heart of enlightenment in the galaxy?

After three weeks of negotiating with the leaders of Tracep II and III, the two planets who alternately ruled and maintained the Archives, Qui-Gon had achieved only a fragile truce. The Archives were still closed and heavily guarded by security forces from the planets involved in the conflict.

Dozens of scientists and researchers stood with Qui-Gon in silent vigil outside the massive blue stone building. Hundreds more waited elsewhere on the grounds or in Enlightenment City. A persistent hope that the Archives would reopen at any moment hung in the air, but that hope was laced heavily with a great sadness, a sadness that Qui- Gon felt all too keenly.

Many years before he had visited the Archives while Yoda's padawan. Their visit became more of a pilgrimage when Qui-Gon discovered this place honored the pursuit of knowledge as much as the Jedi did. He had felt immediately at home among the great volumes of the collection and was allowed to wander freely up and down the rows of shelving which were filled from end to end with histories and collected data from around the galaxy. The pleasure of those days was so pronounced that even now, as Qui-Gon stood frustrated and feeling a bit helpless, he could still smell the ancient texts that had surrounded him, feel their smooth pages and recall the verses of poetry he had read.

Now he was locked out, banished from the great halls of wisdom like everyone else. But unlike the others who waited, Qui-Gon had the ability to put things right, or so he had thought. He wondered for the hundredth time what it would take to part the heavy doors of the Archives... obviously more than what he had to give. And so, it had happened, he had received word from the Jedi Council that a team of Jedi was being sent to assist him.

He understood their impatience... the impatience of a galaxy about to collapse into chaos if it could not access this storehouse of knowledge. But he had not asked for help and least of all from a knight and her first padawan. Surely their arrival would only undermine his progress and surely it meant the Council had lost faith in his ability to complete this mission.

So he waited and waited. The estimated time of arrival had been five hours past and now Qui-Gon was even more glad he had not decided to meet them at the landing port in Enlightenment City. Let them stand in front of the Great Archives and feel the magnitude of this mission before any words or plans were exchanged. Let them come to me, he thought with growing frustration as he found a marble bench to sit on.

As the Republic Cruiser lowered its ramp at the landing port in Enlightenment City, Obi-Wan Kenobi grabbed his master's pack as well as his own. They were here at last; the center of shared knowledge in the galaxy. The young Jedi's body fairly thrummed with the thrill of actually seeing the Great Archives and possibly even being allowed to examine its vast collection.

He strode down the ramp behind his master, her long braids swinging behind her as they did when she was in a hurry. "We're late," she muttered, but Obi-Wan did not feel any particular guilt over that. After all, they had been working undercover on Kreloran, nearly a three days journey from the Tracepian Cluster.

"I feel your excitement, Obi-Wan," she said, looking over her shoulder at him. "Just remember the Tracepians' willingness to share has been dampened. We must tread lightly."

"Yes, Master."

They crossed the landing bay to the arrivals check-in desk and were given a message to meet Master Jinn at the Archives.

"So, he's making us go to him," Silva said as she gestured for them to continue.

"He doesn't want us here," Obi-Wan observed, examining his new surroundings as he trailed after his master. The Tracepians had spared no expense in the construction of the landing port; it glittered with newness and prosperity. It seemed the Great Archives was more than just a wealth of information it was also a wealthy industry.

Silva Laren sighed as her padawan caught up with her. "Would you want us here, Obi-Wan? Essentially he's been told that he's failed. I think he has every right to resent us."

"Do you think he's failed, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, sympathetically.

Silva slowed her steps. "I think that Qui-Gon Jinn is one of the best negotiators the Jedi have. If this truce was the best he could do, then we can expect a bumpy road ahead of us, too."

Obi-Wan understood. But then they were never given easy missions. Since he had become Knight Laren's padawan eight years ago he had been in every impossible diplomatic situation imaginable from blackmail to gang warfare, and from genocide to coups d'etat. But after reading Master Jinn's report, Obi-Wan had pegged this as an "easy" mission. Just get friendly with the powers that be and the Archives would re-open... almost magically.

After taking a transport to the Great Archives complex, forty kilometers from the city, Silva directed Obi-Wan to take their belongings to their quarters in the Archives compound. As representatives of the Republic, they were given the status of dignitaries and allowed to stay within the massive complex adjacent to the Archives. The building was monastery-like in its reverence for quiet and solitude and its many gardens and sanctuaries. Only key personnel and the most honored of visitors were allowed to stay there.

Silva went on ahead to meet Qui-Gon. As expected, the master Jedi was standing in front of the Archives... pacing.

He looks small, Silva thought as she approached by way of the grand promenade that led to the Archives' main entrance. Compared to the seven-story building behind him, Qui-Gon Jinn did look rather inconsequential, but so would anyone else. Still, the picture amused her, knowing that the top of her head would barely reach his breastbone. "Master Jinn."

"Knight Laren?" he asked, as he turned to see the other Jedi.

"Yes, please call me Silva. I've never been comfortable with titles."

"Then you must call me Qui-Gon," he said, smiling at her. The knight was slender and slightly under average height for a humanoid female. At first glance she was a bit plain, but her eyes were quite extraordinary. They were large and brown and were complemented, not dimmed, by the deep browns and creams of her robes. She was quite pretty, in an understated sort of way. "I trust you had a pleasant journey."

"Well, it was a bit rushed... and as you know we are late in arriving, but it couldn't be helped. We had to slip away like thieves in the night to get off Kreloran without an incident. You can imagine how surprised we were to hear that we were being sent to assist you."

Yes, Qui-Gon thought. It had been a surprise to him as well, but he wouldn't share that with the knight. "And where is your padawan? Did you forget him in your rush to get here?"

Silva laughed. The Jedi master's humor was much appreciated at this their first meeting. "Obi-Wan will be joining us shortly. I sent him to find our quarters and deposit our belongings there. So, tell me, Qui-Gon," she said, as she directed him to walk with her to a quieter spot on the plaza. "How are things here... really? I read your report, but it seems so surreal. How could this have happened?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out since I got here. The ruling families are pleasant and I'm sure you'll find them most hospitable, but they do not seem capable of speaking to each other civilly."

Qui-Gon went on to describe the devastation he had seen on Tracep II and III. In just twenty-two days the Tracepian people had undermined their own society by sabotaging trade routes, demolishing energy plants and putting fear into their fellow citizens. Fortunately, no lives had been lost in the conflict. Now there was a truce, but Qui- Gon feared that even that was merely smoke and mirrors to allow for each side to regroup before the next onslaught of terrorism began once again.

"And all this because the Supreme Archivist died suddenly?" Silva asked, shaking her head as she tried to process the details of the conflict.

"So it would seem," Qui-Gon said, and then noticed a cloaked figure approaching them. "Your padawan?"

Silva turned to see Obi-Wan making his way up the wide, marble pedestrian boulevard. He looked content walking along its tree-lined expanse. The trees had grown as tall as the Archives and looked to be just as strong as the stone that made up the exterior of the revered structure.

As her apprentice drew closer, Silva saw Qui-Gon raise his eyebrow. He obviously noticed the way Obi-Wan was walking. The young man's distinct swagger always turned heads and Silva heartily encouraged it... though it was not something she had taught him to do. It came quite naturally to him.

"Padawan," Silva greeted as Obi-Wan joined them. Then she turned to Qui-Gon. "This is my apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan, this is Master Qui-Gon Jinn."

Obi-Wan bowed. "It is an honor to meet you, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon stood silent a moment, taking in the young man's presence. There was something very special about him, besides the fact that he was quite beautiful. "Thank you, Padawan," he said, finally. "I see you've discovered the gardens already."

Obi-Wan smiled and lifted the orchid he held in his hands to his nose and inhaled. "It's a favorite of the people of Tracep II."

"Very good, Padawan," Silva said, beaming at her apprentice's discovery.

"Oh, I can't take credit for it, Master. After I had gone to our quarters I made my way through a courtyard and came upon one of the gardens. A gardener stopped me and gave me this." Obi-Wan handed the hearty pink blossom to his master. "It becomes you."

The knight smiled brightly at her charge and Qui-Gon couldn't help but stare. He wondered if they meant more to each other than just master and padawan. They certainly seemed to share that kind of closeness. The thought disappointed him, but he couldn't say why and quickly moved on to other matters.

"The ruling families have agreed to meet with us this evening. They are eager to make your acquaintance, but are also scheduled to discuss the re-opening of the Archives... once again."

"Oh, you've gotten that far with them?" Silva asked, surprised that the sides were even talking.

"Well, you shall see how far I've actually gotten tonight," Qui-Gon said, trying not to sound as defeated as he felt. "I think they've been spending their time strategizing ways to attack each other rather than worrying about the ethics of denying access to the Archives."

"Surely their people see this as a crime," Obi-Wan said.

"One would think so," Qui-Gon answered. "But the loss of the Supreme Archivist has shaken them. Rence was greatly honored... even while she lived."

"Perhaps you could tell me more about the ruling families while Obi- Wan does some preliminary research on his own?" Silva asked, anxious for Obi-Wan to gather information on the two distinct cultures. It was always their first priority in missions and the information they had read prior to arriving had not given the nuances of the culture they sought.

"We could take a walk around the Archives. I'd like you to see the extent of the security that is in place."

"That would be fine. Thank you, Qui-Gon." Silva rested her hand on her padawan's forearm. "See what you can find that might be useful in our negotiations."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said and then bowed to both of them and left.

Even as Qui-Gon and Silva began to move out of the plaza, Qui-Gon found his eyes slipping back to watch the young man as he retreated down the avenue and out of sight. Obi-Wan had said very little, but his presence had been somehow comforting to Qui-Gon. Again, Qui-Gon brushed the feeling aside and continued his explanations to Knight Laren as they made the wide circuit around the Archives.

Over an hour later, they parted ways as Silva headed for her quarters and Qui-Gon decided to spend some quiet time in the gardens. To his surprise he found Obi-Wan there with his robe spread on the ground and an assortment of flowers scattered on it. The young man was kneeling among the colorful blooms, lifting each to his nose and studying it carefully.

As Qui-Gon approached, the soft rustle of his robes alerted Obi-Wan to his presence. Bright blue-green eyes looked up at him and then the young man gave a small smile of greeting.

"Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said with a bow of his head and then stood.

"I hope I am not disturbing you," Qui-Gon said, scanning the array of flora on the young Jedi's robe. "Is this your research?"

The young man smiled more brightly. "It has become so. The gardener was pleased with my interest in the native flora and has been bringing me these blooms."

"And how will you use this research to help in the negotiations?" Qui- Gon asked, clearly interested in this atypical approach.

"It is our way to find something that pleases the planet's inhabitants... as a sign that we are trying to understand them," Obi- Wan explained. "These flowers are favorites among the Tracepians," he said, gesturing to the dozen blooms. "This one in particular..." He bent to pick up a flaming orange blossom. "This is a tralla lotus. Its scent is preferred by the people of Tracep III and is used in their perfumes and bath oils. It is also a symbol of their Royal House."

"Interesting," Qui-Gon said, impressed with this discovery. "But how do you intend to use this knowledge?"

"To please those of Tracep III, of course," Obi-Wan said. Then he chose another flower, one with pale yellow petals and a deep red stamen. "This is the wild nettle lily. Smell it," he said, offering it up to Qui-Gon's nose. "This is preferred among the people of Tracep II and their Royal House."

Qui-Gon inhaled its rich, sweet scent, closing his eyes for a moment as he enjoyed this unexpected pleasure. When he opened his eyes again he found Obi-Wan looking directly at him. The young man's eyes were now more blue than green, changeable and very beautiful in their variety. Qui-Gon took a half step back, feeling as if he was getting too close... to something.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," Qui-Gon said, deciding it was time to find that quiet place he sought.

"Please, take this with you," Obi-Wan said, reaching down for a crimson orchid and handing it to the Jedi master. "If you put it in water, the gardener has assured me it will live for several weeks."

Obi-Wan wanted to tell him that the deep color and heady scent reminded him of the Jedi master, but he bit his tongue. That was an observation that could not be shared... ever.

Qui-Gon was puzzled by the gift, but thanked his young friend nonetheless. He took the flower and left, wondering about their conversation.

From behind a tall flowering bush, Silva Laren had watched the exchange, narrowing her eyes on Qui-Gon Jinn as he left. She waited until he was out of sight before stepping from behind the bush to reveal herself to her padawan.

"Master," Obi-Wan said, as she joined him in gathering the flowers from his robe.

Silva knelt next to him, putting her hand on his. "He's attracted to you," she said, bluntly.

Obi-Wan looked into her eyes and saw her concern. "I didn't notice." It was only a half-truth. He had seen how Qui-Gon was looking at him, but he had chosen not to assume it was because of an attraction.

She frowned. "You have been trained to notice such things, Obi-Wan. It is at the very core of what we do."

"Master, I..."

"No, Obi-Wan, I don't want to hear it. I saw you two talking and I know that you would like to be his friend, but that's not what is happening. He'll want more than that."

"But he must know the Eratti cannot have relationships with other Jedi."

"Not all Jedi follow the rules, Obi-Wan, and Qui-Gon Jinn has a reputation for making his own."

Obi-Wan considered her words and suddenly felt as if he had failed her. "I'm sorry, Master. I sought only to make a new acquaintance. I'll keep my distance from him from now on."

She raised her hand to his face and cupped his cheek gently. "I know the Eratti way is not easy, but you have never disappointed me. You are a good apprentice."

"Thank you, Master."

"Now we must prepare for this evening's meeting of the ruling families. Let's find homes for these flowers and then return to our quarters for a light meal and meditation."

Several hours later, the Jedi met in the Room of Eternal Silence. The name of the room was contrary to the fact that it was a place for people to gather to discuss findings and to give lectures. The closest to silence it came was in the rule that voices should never be raised above a normal speaking tone. But the name seemed particularly poignant tonight as the ruling parties were about to meet to discuss the fate of the Great Archives. Without the Archives the galaxy seemed doomed to the silence of ignorance.

At the appointed hour, the ruling families of each planet arrived through separate doorways. They were seated behind tables facing one another and the Jedi stood between them. Obi-Wan made a point of standing so that his master was between him and Qui-Gon. Her words about Qui-Gon's apparent attraction had shaken him and he now kept his gaze safely averted.

Qui-Gon noticed the change in the young man immediately and wondered what had happened to cause his sudden coolness. Perhaps he regretted the small offering of the flower? It was not unusual for young people to be confused by their own feelings and regret their actions later. But this was not the time to worry about the team dynamic. The leaders of Tracep II and III were standing and ready to greet each other in their customary fashion.

The female ruler of Tracep II was the first to speak. She had long, gray hair and seemed of advanced age, but in good health. Her voice was clear and pleasant. "We greet you, Roja the Patriarch of Tracep III."

"And we greet you, Ranna the Matriarch of Tracep II," the male ruler of Tracep III said in response.

They stood for a moment looking at one another and then both bowed their heads and took their seats. Around them were their families all dressed in the finery of their planets. The Royalty of Tracep II wore pale outer robes and bright inner ones, symbolic of the wild nettle lily; their planet was a matriarchy. In contrast, and to create the balance for which the Tracepian Cluster was famous, Tracep III was ruled by a patriarchy. Their Royals wore colors reminiscent of the rising sun and the tralla lily.

They were handsome people of two different species of humanoids who had long ago found harmony in their differences. Now they looked uncomfortable and waited for the Jedi to mediate.

Qui-Gon stepped forward as the senior Jedi. "It is good you have come. It is no small thing that we are all here together," he said and then went on to introduce the newly arrived Jedi. After the pleasantries he requested their suggestions for the re-opening of the Archives.

Roja spoke first. "My second son, Rakta is prepared to ascend to the position of supreme archivist now."

"He cannot be prepared," Ranna retorted. "He is only twenty-five and there were another twenty years remaining on Rence's term. He has many years of study left."

In the information the Council had sent Silva and Obi-Wan to review before their arrival they learned of the Tracepians' long life span. On average, citizens lived for one hundred and seventy years, and it was not unusual for some to live to be two hundred years old. Because of this, Tracepian young remained in school until at least their fortieth year.

"Under normal circumstances, yes," Roja continued. "But he is Rence's successor."

"He has not finished his studies. It's impossible for him to take over such a great responsibility."

"The succession is passed over in death. It is Tracep III's turn now."

"The succession passes over after 100 years. It has only been eighty years."

"That is open to interpretation," Roja spat. "The treaty clearly states that the succession passes on after the death of the supreme archivist."

"After a one-hundred year term," Ranna, replied with edge.

And so the argument went round and round. Obi-Wan was surprised that Qui-Gon and Silva did nothing to stop the sides from bickering. He assumed they must believe it was better for them to argue than not to talk at all.

After some time, the successor in question stood and asked to be recognized. Rakta was tall and strikingly handsome. The very nature of his youth, shining shoulder length blond hair, and perfect features seemed even more pronounced among this room of his elders, whom, Obi-Wan guessed were all well over one-hundred years old. Rakta really did seem like a pup. But when he spoke, he spoke with such fervor and intelligence that Obi-Wan could no longer understand the arguments against him.

"I am willing to undergo any tests you see fit, Queen Ranna," he said, bowing at the waist. "I am happy to prove my qualifications for this most venerated of positions."

"It is not your time, Rakta," the ruler of Tracep II began to explain and then the voice of one of her clan rang out above hers.

"You are a murderer, Rakta, and have no right to succeed Rence!"

All eyes turned on the source of that voice; a young woman no older than Rakta himself. She was Rence's youngest sister, Reva.

"How dare you accuse my son of murder!" The King of Tracep III was saying as he stood beside his son.

The raised voices echoed in the large room, making Obi-Wan cringe. The Room of Eternal Silence had turned into the Room of Eternal Conflict.

"Why don't you saying something, Master?" he asked Silva, quietly.

"Let Qui-Gon handle the politics," she told him, putting her finger over her lips to encourage his continued silence.

Moments later as the raised voices grew even louder, Qui-Gon finally intervened. He held up his hand and as if by magic, silenced the angry Royal Houses.

"This is an unfortunate accusation," Qui-Gon said, calmly and in an even tone. He turned to the youngest daughter of Ranna. "What evidence can you present to us?"

"You're actually taking her seriously?" King Roja asked, shaking his head. "She only said that because she knows it's Rakta's right to succeed."

"Assassination is a serious matter if it can be proven," Qui-Gon answered.

"Assassination!" the king bellowed. "I will not hear of it!" And with that he and his entourage of relations, servants and guards got up and left the room.

Qui-Gon let them go, and let the ruling house of Tracep II go as well. In moments, the three Jedi were left alone once again.

"Had you considered murder before?" Silva asked as she stared at the Jedi master.

"Only as one of many theories, but no autopsy was performed, and the suspicion has never been mentioned until now."

"Do you think it's a legitimate concern?"

"Obviously Rence's sister feels it's legitimate," Qui-Gon said as he moved toward the exit.

"Then we should arrange for an autopsy," Silva said, fast on his heels and Obi-Wan directly behind her.

"That may be difficult," Qui-Gon said as he opened the door and stepped out into the empty corridor.

"Why? Is there some religious belief that doesn't allow it?"

"No, Rence has been entombed within the Archives with her predecessors. I don't believe we will get both sides to agree to let us inside and then to exhume her body."

Silva sighed. "Then we must find a way to get them to agree."

Qui-Gon gave her an encouraging grin. "Yes, we must."

As they made their way through the long corridors of the compound, Obi-Wan felt a presence behind them. He didn't think his master or Qui-Gon had noticed, since their conversation never wavered. He slowed his steps, and as Silva and Qui-Gon turned a corner he hung back and then swung around to see Rakta standing there.

"Obi-Wan, isn't it?" he asked, smiling openly.

"Yes. Why were you following us?"

"Because I wanted to speak with you," the young prince said.

"With me?"

"You didn't say anything in there. I found that very... intriguing."

"I was merely deferring to my elders."

"Oh, I see," Rakta said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, perhaps you wouldn't be interested in what I have to say after all."

Obi-Wan looked at the other young man for a moment before answering. The prince had selected him for a reason. Perhaps he thought that Obi- Wan, being nearer to his own age, would be more inclined to listen. Or perhaps it was something more... something that Knight Laren had reminded him of just that afternoon.

He's attracted to me, Obi-Wan thought, his stomach tightening at the realization. The first moment of knowing always made Obi-Wan jump inside. It was a little like standing at the edge of a great precipice having just decided this was the moment to leap.

"I am interested," Obi-Wan said, finally, taking a step closer.

"Good," Rakta said, grinning seductively. "Come to Tracep III tomorrow. To the palace. We can talk there and I'll show you... everything."

Obi-Wan swallowed, recognizing the lustful tones in the prince's voice. So, this is it, he thought. This is my mission now, to become the prince's confidante and bedfellow. "Yes, I'll come tomorrow."

"Wonderful," the prince said, his smile now changing to one of sincere pleasure. "I'll look forward to seeing you... Obi-Wan." And the young man retreated back into the shadows and back to his father's entourage leaving on the royal shuttle for Tracep III.

When Obi-Wan caught up to the masters, they were waiting at the junction of four corridors.

"Where did you go?" Silva asked a bit impatiently.

"I must speak with you, Master," he said, once again making a point of not looking at Qui-Gon.

"Of course, Obi-Wan," she said and then turned to the Jedi master. "We'll be heading back to our quarters now. Perhaps if we sleep on it, an answer will come to us by morning."

"Perhaps," Qui-Gon said, and nodded a good night to them both.

As he walked in the opposite direction toward his own quarters, Qui- Gon felt a peculiar chill grab hold of him. He wrapped his robe more tightly about himself and still shivered. He knew the reason for the sudden cold and it wasn't the darkness of the night. It was Obi-Wan Kenobi....

Knight Laren was immensely pleased to hear that Rakta had approached Obi-Wan. "And you're sure you picked up on sexual undertones?" she asked him as she brushed out her long hair.

"Yes, Master. He is attracted to me."

"And what about you, Obi-Wan? Is he satisfactory? Do you feel you can do what is necessary to please him?" It was a question she always asked. The Eratti never offered their bodies unless they were willing. If Obi-Wan was not attracted to the prince, they would find another way.

"He is very handsome, Master. I would find it no hardship to please him."

She smiled at her apprentice and put down her brush. "Come here," she said, opening her arms to him. He crossed the room and sat on the sofa next to her, letting her arms fall about him in a loving embrace. "It was your beauty that drew me to you, Obi-Wan," she reminded him. "Your inner beauty as well as your outer beauty. But you have become much more than I could ever have hoped for in a first padawan. You make the Eratti proud."

The Eratti were a small sect of the Jedi Order, a group of no more than fifty who used the art of sexual pleasure as a means to an end. Their methods were highly controversial and few Jedi actually knew that they still existed since their numbers had dwindled and their selection and training was so secretive. At twenty, Obi-Wan was already a senior padawan with two years of true Eratti experience.

After offering to finish brushing his master's hair, Obi-Wan retreated to his own room to sleep. He lay awake for some time, staring into the blackness that surrounded him. He thought about Rakta briefly, reviewing his own attraction for the young man. He preferred sex with humanoid males, but he had also bedded males and females of different species, but only those for which he had felt an attraction.

What he hadn't expected in his ruminations were thoughts of Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan's face grew warm as he imagined the man's eyes which seemed even more blue and more gentle in his memory than they had this afternoon in the garden. The young Jedi had been rightly warned by his master to stay away from Qui-Gon. Silva was convinced that Qui- Gon's intentions would prove to be less than pure. She knew all too well the seductive lure of her padawan. He wasn't a senior padawan of the Eratti for nothing. And so, despite his master's counsel, Obi-Wan lay thinking of Qui-Gon, and to his horror realized that he was getting a hard-on.

I have to clear my thoughts of him, Obi-Wan thought, as he gripped the bed linens in his clenched fists. He wouldn't touch himself, relieve his arousal for the world. To do so would be to succumb to the very thing that his master feared... relations with another Jedi. No, he would not let his master or the Eratti down. He would will himself to sleep and not to dream of the tall and very masculine Jedi master.

Late the next morning, Obi-Wan returned to his duties and took a shuttle to Tracep III, alone. He spent the afternoon with Rakta and was surprised by the prince's attempts at courting him.

Most of Obi-Wan's past encounters had had much more obvious expectations. They had wanted Obi-Wan and he had obliged. Pleasantries such as polite conversation, succulent meals and long strolls in rose gardens were considered non-essential. The opportunity to fuck a Jedi and a beautiful one at that usually made people a bit frantic. Obi-Wan had often wondered as he was spread and mounted for a quick, hard fuck, if his partners actually believed the invitation would expire in a few minutes and so they had better hurry. Rarely, and truly it was rarely, had anyone taken the time to actually woo him. Rakta of Tracep III was one of those rare occasions and Obi-Wan fairly enjoyed the attention.

Before Obi-Wan returned to Tracep I, he was kissed sweetly on the lips and invited back that evening, with his fellow Jedi, for a banquet.

Evening came quickly and the three Jedi arrived at the palace on Tracep III as honored guests of the young prince. Qui-Gon had advised that they should seek a similar invitation to Tracep II or it would appear that they favored one side over the other. Silva and Obi-Wan agreed, though silently Obi-Wan decided to let his master handle the other royal house.

Despite Tracep III's depleted treasury, the meal was as sumptuous as the Jedi had expected of royalty. The king spared no expense when it came to entertaining his family and their guests. Tracep II and III shared the responsibilities of the Great Archives in one hundred-year cycles. Each one hundred years, one planet would grow wealthy from the benefits of its' citizen being the supreme archivist while the other planet would struggle as its' resources were depleted in order to maintain and staff the Archives. It was an odd agreement from an outsider's point of view, but one that had been sustained peaceably for a thousand years.

Dancers and musicians crowded into the main dining hall as the dessert course was brought in on large silver platters. Obi-Wan, who had been strategically seated next to Rakta during the meal, was not surprised when the prince discreetly whispered to him that they meet privately in his room.

"Just follow the gold torches down the corridor and to the right. My door will be ajar... and I'll be waiting," he had said, and then excused himself from the table.

Obi-Wan knew enough not to dart up immediately after him. He finished his dessert and sat for some time listening to the orchestral music until Silva nodded for him to set off after the prince. His task tonight would not be merely to pleasure the prince, but to gain entrance into the Archives. They needed to ascertain that the collections had not been damaged or stolen and also to pursue the idea of exhuming Rence's body. But of course, Obi-Wan would not broach that subject with Rakta who would surely be sensitive about it.

To further disguise his intentions, Obi-Wan took the long way around to the prince's private chambers. He stepped outside onto a large stone balcony, planning to sneak back inside on the other end of the dining hall. To his surprise, Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon standing there, gazing up at the night sky.

"Master..." Obi-Wan said, in apology for interrupting the other Jedi's solitude.

Qui-Gon lowered his gaze and took a deep breath of the cool, night air before speaking. "Obi-Wan. You should be inside enjoying the festivities."

Actually, that's where I'm headed right now, Obi-Wan thought a bit anxiously, knowing that Rakta would be wondering about him. "Master Jinn, I didn't expect to see you here."

"No, I suppose not," Qui-Gon said, looking at him levelly. "But then, you've been making quite an effort at avoiding me. Haven't you?"

Obi-Wan was surprised by the master's directness, but tried to explain his actions. "I was only trying not to give..."

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, hearing the hesitation in the young Jedi's voice. What could've frightened the young man off like that? He had been so open and eager to friendship and then just as quickly cold and standoffish. "You were saying something?"

"I didn't want to give you the wrong impression," Obi-Wan said, finally. It was better to get this out in the open. Surely Qui-Gon, as a brother in the Order, would understand that he couldn't possibly pursue a relationship with him, and not even one of friendship.

"Wrong impression?" Qui-Gon wondered aloud. Damn, if the boy's face wasn't beautiful by moonlight. Pale and soft in complexion... and the way he was looking up at him with those pleading eyes, now a deep blue-green.

Before Obi-Wan could explain further, Qui-Gon had closed the distance between them. Just a few steps, but it had seemed like he was crossing the entire galaxy to be within a handspan of Obi-Wan. He looked down into that open face and saw the tremble of Obi-Wan's lower lip.

He feels it, too, Qui-Gon thought, and then reached his hand up and touched the trembling lip with his fingers. "Obi-Wan," he whispered and then bent down and kissed him gently.

Obi-Wan held his breath as he felt the light press of lips against his. He tilted his head back and stood on tip-toe to reach that sensuous mouth. Though the kiss was brief, Obi-Wan swore he could see eternity stretching out before him in that moment. It was the oddest and most exciting sensation he had ever felt and it frightened him into pulling back out of the kiss.

He looked up into that handsome, bearded face and felt confusion flood him. What had just happened? Why was he trembling? And why was his heart beating so hard he thought it would burst through his chest? All these questions and more raced through his mind as he searched the blue eyes that were searching his as well. Then the shock wore off and Obi-Wan realized his master's warning was coming true.

He sucked in a lung full of air to clear his mind and gasped out indignantly, "Why did you do that?"

"Why does any man kiss another?" Qui-Gon answered easily, grinning at his small conquest. He knew the kiss had set off something in Obi- Wan... something deep and new. "I was moved to kiss you," he said, as further explanation and then leaned forward to repeat the pleasure.

Obi-Wan was shaking now and not from arousal. "You had no right to do that! Master Laren was right about you," he said, and stormed past the Jedi master back into the dining hall.

The whoosh of Obi-Wan's robe stirred the air around Qui-Gon as he was left alone on the patio once again. The Jedi master replayed the scene in his mind as his tongue absently licked his lower lip, seeking any ghost of taste of the young man's mouth. Sweet bread and nutty wine were the flavors that had passed between them. Oh, how those blue-green eyes had been wide pools of innocence in that moment of touch. But even with the knowledge of Obi-Wan's final reaction, Qui-Gon decided that he would do it again if given the chance.

He remembered his first glimpse of Obi-Wan as he had approached along the wide boulevard to the Great Archives. Even from a distance, the young man had entranced him... cast a spell on his lonely heart. When he was close enough to look into his face, Qui-Gon saw a beauty and a purity that sealed his fate. With an easy smile, Obi-Wan had won Qui- Gon before the man had even known what had hit him.

Obi-Wan had wanted that kiss, Qui-Gon thought. He enjoyed it and had wanted it. So why then did he ultimately reject it? This was the question Qui-Gon was left to ponder under the night skies of Tracep III.

Inside the palace, Obi-Wan darted between guests and along the periphery of the dining hall. He didn't want to be seen or stopped... least of all by his master. He had to get to Rakta's rooms where he could take a breath and ease back into the role of seduction for which he had been trained.

Why am I running? he wondered as he scurried along like a small, frightened animal with a wildly beating heart. He had never reacted to any situation like this before. If his training had taught him anything it was that he was Jedi and that he was in control. Perhaps that was part of the problem. Qui-Gon Jinn was Jedi also, but why then had he made an advance on a member of the Eratti?

Obi-Wan would have to leave that question for later as he turned down the corridor leading to the prince's room. His nerves jumped now for another reason. He would give himself to the prince tonight. If all went well, and he expected it would, the liaison would secure the access to the Archives they had been seeking. He and his master had discussed it carefully before coming here tonight. Obi-Wan was sure of the prince's needs and Silva was sure the prince would reciprocate with what they needed. It was the Eratti way.

The door was ajar, as planned, and Obi-Wan slipped inside the dimly lit chamber, closing and locking it behind him. He took one calming breath and then walked to the center of the large room. A flicker of light spilling in from an adjacent room caught his attention and he could sense the presence of someone there... the prince. Obi-Wan shrugged out of his brown robe and left it on the back of a chair as he walked into the prince's bed chamber. The comely young man lay naked on his bed with a warm fire aglow in the hearth.

"Rakta," Obi-Wan said, surprised to see the prince in such a state. It seemed the seduction was already complete.

"Where were you?" the prince asked a bit impatiently, running his fingers idly over his bare chest.

"I was delayed," he answered honestly. "But I am here now... and glad to be." A small smile curved Obi-Wan's lips as he drew closer to the bed.

"Wait," Rakta said, holding out his hand. "I want to look at you from a distance... for a moment."

The prince raised himself onto his elbows and stared at Obi-Wan who stood halfway across the room. The fire crackled invitingly and colored the room in orange and reds, reminding Obi-Wan of the tralla lily, the symbol of this royal house.

"I wasn't sure you would want me," Rakta said. "But then, today in the garden, I knew. You were eager for my advances."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, softly.

"A Jedi come to be with me. And your master approves? Or doesn't she know?" Rakta asked, now a sly smile curving his lips.

The young Tracepian appealed to Obi-Wan. He was a handsome young man in peak physical condition and obviously was comfortable with his own nakedness. However, the mention of Obi-Wan's position as a Jedi disappointed him. It was the same... no matter where he went. It doesn't matter, Obi-Wan thought. It's better if they don't seek anymore than the conquest of a Jedi. I can give them no more than that.

"My master knows and approves, but it is my decision to be here with you," Obi-Wan said. "Now, may I come closer?"

"No, not yet. Take off your clothes for me, Obi-Wan. You are very beautiful and I'd like to see exactly what you're offering."

Obi-Wan nodded. There was a method to taking ones clothes off to entice another and Obi-Wan knew it well. Even though the outcome of this encounter was obviously clear, Obi-Wan would take his time, slowly and deliberately removing each article of clothing. First his utility belt came off, then his sash and stolas fell to the floor. He switched his weight to one leg, letting his hip jut out seductively. He hadn't revealed anything yet, but the prince's eyes were glued to him. He could feel their heat even from this distance.

He pushed his outer tunic back and let it slip off into a pool at his feet. Then his inner tunic, lighter in color and of the palest of creams, was taken off and dropped to the floor. He stood naked from the waist up. He knew his body was pleasing. He trained hard and was one of the best sword fighters in the Jedi Order.

"More," the prince said, rubbing his thigh with his hand.

"Oh, definitely more," Obi-Wan said with a mischievous grin. He had learned a long time ago not to be self-conscious when undressing. He actually preferred doing the undressing himself as a measure of control.

He bent over and pulled off his boots, tossing each one in turn. Then he stepped forward, even though the prince had not beckoned him. He unfastened his pants as he neared, finally releasing his erection as he reached the bedside. He was powerfully aroused by the anticipation of this coupling. It was key to the success of the Eratti that they looked as willing in body as they were in mind. To ensure this, Obi- Wan used a light trance at the start of encounters. Usually, once he became engaged in sex he had no trouble sustaining an erection.

The prince groaned as his eyes raked over Obi-Wan's body. "You're quite a tease, Obi-Wan."

"You haven't seen anything yet," he replied and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and pushed them down, stepping out of them. Now naked, Obi-Wan climbed onto the bed and straddled the prince's thighs. "How do you want me?"

"This is a good start," Rakta said lustily, letting his hands run up the young Jedi's thighs and then to his chest. "I want you to ride me. Ride my cock, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan smiled at the request and then used the Force to float the tube of lubricant from the bedside table into his hand.

"Ah, very nice," Rakta said, smiling.

"It gets better," Obi-Wan said, and then proceeded to prepare them both for a night of sex.

At the palace's landing pad, Silva Laren made her padawan's excuses to the Jedi master. "Obi-Wan will be returning later."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Is that a good idea, Knight Laren? Leaving your padawan alone on a world that is in the middle of a civil war."

"A civil war with no casualties," she reminded him.

"So it would seem... unless you count Rence."

"Then you believe she was murdered?" Silva asked her eyes going wide.

"I only know that she is dead. And it was her death that started this war."

They boarded the private shuttle and took their seats for the short flight back to Tracep I. They sat across the aisle from one another and Qui-Gon immediately turned his attention to the night sky out of the window. He was thinking of Obi-Wan again, and had hardly stopped thinking about him since their kiss.

Why isn't he returning with us? Is he avoiding me completely now? Qui- Gon wondered.

Silva found herself staring at the Jedi master... as discreetly as possible. She knew very little of Qui-Gon Jinn, except for the Temple gossip that told of his betrayal by his own apprentice years ago. Since that time, Qui-Gon had worked alone and never again sought to form a bond of any kind with other Jedi. As with most gossip, Silva assumed that only part of the tale was true, but his detachment reminded her of the Eratti's own detachment from the Order.

We are not so different, she thought as she turned her eyes away. We cannot allow ourselves to bond with other Jedi either.

And yet Qui-Gon was respected among his peers, a legend in his own time, and a legend attracted to her padawan. She wondered about this for a moment. She had been so focused on the Jedi master's attraction to her padawan that she hadn't stopped to check if Obi-Wan had been attracted in return. The Jedi master was tall, broad and very handsome. She would have to watch for signs. She couldn't take any chances with her apprentice, though there had never been problems with Obi-Wan becoming attracted to the wrong individuals before. However, he was still young and impressionable, and the rebellious Qui-Gon Jinn was just the type to lead a young padawan astray.

He can never have Obi-Wan and he'll never know why, she thought. At Silva's request, the Council had not mentioned in their missive to Qui-Gon that the Jedi they were sending were Eratti. It was the knight's perogative to request this, since the Eratti were often labeled as glorified whores and occasionally had difficulty with other Jedi over their controversial methods.

When the shuttle landed at the Archives compound, the two Jedi returned to their quarters with only a few words between them. The silence had been a comfortable and respectful one. Both were tired and needed time to focus in order to be ready for another day of negotiations with the Tracepians. Silva never mentioned her apprentice's mission that night.

Just before dawn the next morning, Obi-Wan returned to Tracep I. His liaison with Rakta had been a success. After several rounds of sex, the young prince was too sated to know what hit him when Obi-Wan began to make his case for gaining access to the Great Archives. It never occurred to Rakta that Obi-Wan was using him as much as he was using Obi-Wan and that the topic of their pillow talk was not the norm.

Though tired and a bit sore, Obi-Wan tapped on the door to his master's quarters. Silva was expecting him. After Obi-Wan had left the prince's side, he had contacted her on his comlink to let her know he was well and his mission was a success.

She ushered him into her room and quickly made him a cup of hot tea. "Here, Obi-Wan," she said as she looked at him, studying his condition. "Was he rough with you?" She could not see any bruises on his face or neck, but there was always the possibility of markings elsewhere.

"No, Master. He was merely... energetic," he said with a small smile. "I would guess that the prince is not as well-bedded as one would expect in his position."

"Then he enjoyed himself," she said, sitting next to him.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, only smiled more smugly as he took a sip on his tea.

"I know you enjoy sex, Obi-Wan, but you really must give me more information. The details, however intimate, may be important to the success of our mission. I shouldn't have to remind you of this."

"Yes, of course, Master," Obi-Wan said, setting down his cup of tea. This was one of the most objectifying parts of being an Eratti, having one's sex life analyzed and critiqued. "We had intercourse twice in a period of one hour, then slept for a short time, woke to more fondling and intercourse again, more sleeping, and then we performed fellatio on each other before falling asleep until just an hour ago."

"Did he take you each time, Obi-Wan?" Knight Laren asked.

"Yes."

She frowned. "Greedy prince, but you did receive some pleasure?"

"Yes, Master. He was an adequate partner... not as attentive as I..."

Silva raised her eyebrow at this last unfinished comment. Obi-Wan was forever seeking kindness, seeking something more than sex and the fulfillment of duty in these encounters. It was his one fault. The fact that he didn't finish his sentence told Silva that he had corrected himself and she let it drop. He looked exhausted and any reprimand from her now would not even be heard.

"I'm pleased with your success, Obi-Wan. Getting into the Archives is a major step forward. When Rakta takes you there you must be sure to see as much of it as you can in order to judge the condition of the collections and to determine the location of the burials."

"Rakta seemed anxious to share the Archives with me. I feel I have gained his confidence."

"I'm sure you have," Silva said, rubbing Obi-Wan's back gently. "Now I want you to rest, Padawan. A couple of hours sleep and then you can begin your day as usual."

"Yes, Master," he said, and left his master's quarters to return to his own next door.

When Obi-Wan woke a little over two hours later, he showered, dressed and contacted his master. They agreed to meet in the courtyard at the center of the compound for his morning saber drills. In addition to being trained in all forms of erotic pleasure, the Eratti trained in the traditional Jedi arts as well. Obi-Wan was at the top of his class in languages, piloting and saber fighting and his understanding and use of the Unifying Force was impressive.

Shedding his robe and setting it aside, Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and went into a series of complicated fight sequences for his master's critique. Silva sat on one of the stone benches watching her padawan's performance. His skill level was to be marveled at and she rarely had words other than praise for him.

Unknown to the master and her apprentice, Qui-Gon Jinn had come into the courtyard, but as soon as he had seen the training session had pulled back to conceal himself, going so far as to dim his presence within the Force. His heart leapt at the sight of Obi-Wan. The beautiful young man was like a dancer, even his combat moves were graceful and effortless as the blue blade of his saber sliced the air around him.

Qui-Gon felt his body stirring. Like a siren song, Obi-Wan was calling him, drawing him from his secret place... drawing him out of hiding from behind the pillars and bushes... and drawing his heart out of its cage. Before he could stop himself, Qui-Gon stepped forward where he could be seen. He was glad when Obi-Wan did not notice his approach and continued his exercises, but had enough sense to wrench his eyes away from the vision of the supple body and turn to the young man's master.

Silva stood when Qui-Gon came into view. "Qui-Gon, good morning," she said, crossing the courtyard to meet him.

The greeting caught Obi-Wan's attention. He dropped out of form and deactivated his saber. "Good morning, Master," he said, bowing slightly and fastening his saber at his hip.

"Yes, good morning," Qui-Gon said with a grin. "You both look in good spirits this morning."

"With good reason. We had a breakthrough," Silva said, and then turned to Obi-Wan. "That's enough drills for now. Get something to eat and I'll see you later."

"But Master, I was only at the third form."

"I know, Obi-Wan, and what you did looked very fine as always. Now I need to speak with Master Jinn," Silva said, making it clear that she did not want to discuss it further. She saw the confusion in her padawan's eyes, but turned from him and gestured for Qui-Gon to walk with her. It was a precaution, but she still did not want Qui-Gon near her apprentice.

As the masters walked down one of the gravel garden paths, Silva told Qui-Gon the news. "Rakta has agreed to give Obi-Wan a tour of the Archives."

"He has?" Qui-Gon asked, stopping in mid-stride. "When did this happen?"

"Obi-Wan spent the day on Tracep III yesterday... at the prince's request. They are nearly the same age and I believe the prince enjoyed talking to Obi-Wan."

The Jedi master was silent for a long moment. He had been negotiating with the Tracepians for weeks and had gotten absolutely nowhere in his requests to survey the Archives. Silva and Obi-Wan had been here less than twenty-four hours.

"When is the tour?" Qui-Gon asked in a clipped tone.

"This afternoon. I have advised Obi-Wan on what to be watchful for...."

"But you've never been inside the Archives," Qui-Gon said, now feeling suddenly protective of the repository. "And why are we not being allowed to accompany them?"

"I understand your concerns, but the prince invited only Obi-Wan."

"I don't think you do understand. I am the senior Jedi on this mission. It appears that you and your apprentice have been acting independently...."

"Please, Qui-Gon," Silva said, holding up her hand to stop his litany. "What were we to do? Refuse the prince? Obi-Wan is the one who secured the invitation to the palace last night for all of us... and that was due to his friendship with Rakta."

Qui-Gon tensed at the word 'friendship.' He had wanted that, at the very least, with Obi-Wan, but Obi-Wan had backed away from him and it seemed clear that Silva was against it, too. Now he felt sure they were working behind his back.

"This is not a good idea. If Queen Ranna hears of the tour..."

"She will not hear of it," Silva interrupted, once again. "Prince Rakta has told Obi-Wan of a secret entrance..."

Qui-Gon turned away from the knight and took another path. He had heard enough.

"Wait! Master Jinn, please!" she called after him.

Reluctantly, Qui-Gon slowed his steps and then stopped. He would give the knight another chance to explain.

"I know you don't appreciate our being here," she began again, looking at the Jedi master's back. "But please don't discount the value of friendship in these negotiations."

He shook his head. Silva was speaking to him of friendship... again. Of course, she meant only the friendship that had begun between Obi- Wan and Rakta. It was not a surprise that the prince would see a commonality between himself and Obi-Wan, and not just in age, but in circumstance. They were both isolated young men.

Finally, Qui-Gon turned to face Silva. "The tour is a good idea," he conceded. "But we need to be careful. We cannot afford a mistake."

"Yes, Qui-Gon. I understand. I've made sure Obi-Wan knows exactly what to look for and is cautious. I'm going to be spending time in Enlightenment City this morning if you'd care to join me," she said as something of a peace offering. "I want to interview some of the scientists who are waiting to get into the Archives."

Qui-Gon nodded. He had conducted similar interviews and knew it would be useful to Silva to hear the distress of those who were locked out. "Thank you for the invitation, but I had planned on speaking with Queen Ranna's representative to arrange for us to meet with her this evening."

"That would be wonderful if we could visit the palace on Tracep II," the knight said. She was anxious to speak with Princess Reva, the one who had accused Rakta of murdering Rence. "Then you and I will speak later this afternoon."

Continued in part 2