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Qui-Gon allowed his hands to be bound once he'd tucked his lightsaber into a hidden pocket in his robe. Rill and Manya stood by him, looking straight ahead. They hadn't spoken two words since firstmeal. He wondered if they were afraid. They certainly didn't seem it.

Obi-Wan's voice spoke softly in his ear. "Ready?"

He turned his head and found his apprentice's face centimeters away. "I... yes." He grimaced. All of his serenity shattered, and by a moment of closeness. Obi-Wan smiled, and kissed his cheek lightly.

"For luck," he said, before stepping away.

"There's no such thing as luck," Qui-Gon muttered.

Why had he let this disturb him so much? He'd spent the last two hours struggling to meditate in preparation for this mission, but his thoughts kept returning to Obi-Wan, and to the way his apprentice had looked at him that morning as he'd come out of the sonics. Qui-Gon had thought he was alone, and didn't bother dressing before exiting the room's tiny 'fresher unit. Obi-Wan's eyes had raked over his naked form, lingering on his groin. Then he'd smiled sadly and left.

And just in time, too -- Qui-Gon had developed an erection before he knew what had happened.

Even now, he could feel arousal lapping at the edges of his mind, threatening to shatter the calm he'd finally managed to restore. Why was Obi-Wan affecting him this way? Why now, when the life-threatening situation he was about to walk into should be at the fore of his thoughts?

Obi-Wan had returned to the tight ngala-hide trousers and white vest of his bodyguard disguise. He'd even styled his hair again. Qui-Gon wanted to hold him down and cut those damned blue streaks out. With his lightsaber. Just before pressing his cock between those lips--

Shit.

Obi-Wan turned and looked at him, kohl-lined eyes wide. He hadn't shielded that thought at all, Qui-Gon realized. He could only shrug helplessly and focus on not blushing. Obi-Wan smiled at him, before turning to face the airlock once more.

Qui-Gon suppressed a groan. He began to hope he wouldn't survive this mission. It would be easier, that way.

"Contact made. Docking will proceed momentarily." Alissi's voice over the intercom was calm, almost soothing. Qui-Gon exhaled slowly, finally able to focus.

Time stretched out, and then Alissi joined them. "I'm going with you. He wanted to meet C'Lon personally," she said, glancing at Qui-Gon.

"There is a chance he knows what she looks like," Obi-Wan said. "We still have time to go get her."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I don't trust her that much, Padawan." Obi-Wan opened his mouth as if to reply, but seemed to think better of it.

The sound of ships mating filled the room then, and everyone looked forward, focused on the light above the door. It flashed green. Obi-Wan stepped forward and keyed in the code, shifting his blaster up to point it towards the entrance. The airlock door slid open, revealing a sharp-featured human man, flanked by blaster-toting thugs.

The man eyed Alissi, who had immediately stepped forward. "C'Lon, I presume? You're much lovelier than I was led to expect."

Alissi smirked. "Such flattery." She was, Qui-Gon reflected, very different from C'Lon -- at least twenty years younger, not to mention tall and willowy, while C'Lon was short and thick. "Let's make this quick. I have somewhere else I'd rather be."

The man's smile was cold. "Of course." He studied the children for a moment. "Impressive, that you were able to hold them without Force inhibitors."

Qui-Gon swallowed, and tried to turn his pulse of dismay into a glare. They'd considered constructing some sort of mock-up inhibitor, but had decided against it, for fear that a fake would be more obvious than a lack. He'd hoped it wouldn't be noticed so quickly.

"You'd be surprised what the right sort of persuasion can accomplish," Alissi replied, putting a hint of dark suggestion into her tone. As if on cue, Obi-Wan stepped behind the twins and cupped Manya's face in his hand, smirking. The twins looked uncomfortable; Qui-Gon doubted they were acting.

"And this one as well," the man remarked, eyeing Qui-Gon now. "How you managed to keep a Jedi as formidable as this one in bondage is quite a mystery."

It's too obvious, Qui-Gon thought, even as he leveled a glare at the man. He studied the man's angular face, wondering why it seemed so familiar.

"My men will take the children on board," the man said, stepping back and picking a speck of dust off of his elegant robe. "You and your..." he glanced up and wrinkled his nose, "staff will remain here."

"Oh, no," Assisi retorted, stepping in front of the padawans. "Not without the money. They go nowhere until I get paid."

"And you will be paid when my master is satisfied," the man replied, and Qui-Gon felt a pulse of energy emanate from him. Alissi was forced back against the wall of the cargo hold, clutching at her throat as if an invisible hand were holding her there.

Qui-Gon felt a jolt of emotion from Obi-Wan, and it was a moment before he realized his apprentice was struggling not to act. Obi-wan tensed, but otherwise did not move.

The Judicials all looked as if they'd shat their pants.

"I'll take the children," the man hissed. "Someone will be sent with your money." The sound of six large blasters being cocked behind him punctuated the order.

Alissi struggled, still gasping for air. Qui-Gon's mind reeled. He couldn't bear to watch the children be taken away, alone, but he knew the time was not right to act. There was a darker force at work here. He knew it would disappear if they acted now, and perhaps slip beyond their grasp forever -- or until it was too late.

But was it worth these two lives? He and the children had swallowed tracking chips, just in case. The rest of the crew would have a few days to find them.

"I think we'll leave this one," the mad nodded at Qui-Gon, eyes narrowed, "with you."

And at that moment, Qui-Gon recognized him -- recognized the glint of his eyes and the sharpness of his nose, the sound of his voice. It washed over him with such sudden clarity that he struggled not to gasp in surprise.

"Coward," Qui-Gon hissed. All eyes turned to him, and he felt a blow across his cheek. Stunned, he glanced at his apprentice.

"Not another word from you, Jedi," growled Obi-Wan.

"Oh, no, on the contrary," the man said, "I think I would very much like to hear what the Jedi has to say."

"I know what you are," Qui-Gon began, feeling the skin on his cheek stinging. "You wield your power with all the finesse of a playground bully. Moreover, I know who you are. You were once like me. You were a Jedi."

Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's gaze burning into him, could hear Alissi's desperate breaths as she was released. He fixed the man with his eyes.

The man smirked. "I was never like you, Qui-Gon."

He gestured then, and two of the thugs stepped forward, grasping the twins by the shoulders. Qui-Gon felt a strange burst of panic ring through the Force. He braced himself, already knowing what was going to happen next.

Alissi leapt towards the twins with a strangled cry, lightsaber ignited. Her blade sank into the shoulder of one of the men holding Rill, and the man cried out and collapsed to the floor. Her blade severed the head of the other man before he had time to turn around. Manya and Rill were already stepping back, shrugging out of their bindings and reaching for their sabers.

Qui-Gon took in all of this even as he released the cuffs on his hands and pulled his saber hilt from his cloak. He was dimly aware of Obi-Wan pushing forward, saber before him, and undoubtedly heading towards the dark Jedi.

There were five lightsabers ignited before a single blaster bolt was fired.

Guns on both sides began firing almost at once, and the Jedi were forced to turn to the defensive, deflecting bolts back into the airlock. Unfortunately, the Judicials were not accustomed to fighting alongside Jedi and continued firing with such fervor that it was impossible for anyone to move forward.

The dark Jedi had retreated through the airlock into the cargo bay of his own ship, where he had little trouble defending himself. Even as his men fell around him, he laughed, deflecting bolts with his bare hands. The Judicials finally stopped firing when it became clear it wasn't doing any good.

Qui-Gon hesitated, maintaining a defensive stance. The impulsive side of him wanted to rush forward and slice the grinning bastard in half. This one was powerful with the Dark side, but he was outnumbered at the moment.

He could sense Obi-Wan's thoughts along the same lines, and swallowed down the pride he suddenly felt. They had always made a good team. At least that hadn't changed.

"You Jedi," the man hissed, "so predictable." Qui-Gon felt the presence of the humming crimson blade before he saw it, held casually by a man whose angular features appeared almost demonic in its glow.

Qui-Gon felt a strange pulse in the Force. Alissi propelled herself forward past Obi-Wan, through the airlock and into the other ship. Her yellow blade was locked with the crimson one even before Obi-Wan grunted out a fierce-sounding curse. Qui-Gon pushed forward, but found an invisible barrier blocked his way into the other ship. He touched the blade of his saber to it, but it only crackled.

"Find a way to disable this barrier," he hissed.

Obi-Wan studied it, then glanced back at him, shaking his head.

"Oh, for--!" Qui-Gon growled. The Judicials sank away from him, exchanging glances with each other. In sheer frustration, Qui-Gon sank his blade into the barrier. It had no effect. There was nothing they could do but watch helplessly.

The battle was fierce. Qui-Gon remembered Alissi as an excellent fighter, and she more than held her own against her opponent. Their blades moved so fast they were difficult to follow with the eyes alone. Alissi pushed the man back across the chamber they were in, her blade hissing fiercely as it connected with its partner. But even if she won this battle, it was doubtful she would escape the other ship's crew unscathed.

The ship shook then, and the sound of distant explosions could be heard. "They're firing at us!" Bangs shouted. "We're sitting mynocks here!"

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to respond, but froze, feeling a wave of concern. He glanced at Obi-Wan and saw his apprentice was looking not at the battle, but at the twins.

Manya was staring into space as if in a trance, a look of horror covering her features. Her brother was watching her, equally pale. A single tear spilled down her cheek, and she mouthed the word no.

Just then, Alissi's strangled cry rang through the barrier. Qui-Gon looked back to see the tip of the dark Jedi's saber emerging from her shoulder. It was a serious wound, though not necessarily a mortal one. The saber tip disappeared, and Alissi threw herself bodily at her opponent. The man yelped and fell to the floor beneath her, saber still swinging.

"Now," Rill hissed. Manya stepped quickly to the airlock controls, face hard despite her tears. Qui-Gon realized what she was going to do.

"No!" he shouted, lunging forward.

But Manya was quicker. Her fingers keyed in the disengage code. The door snapped shut, and the sharp hiss of metal and rapidly expanding air reverberated from the other side. The room Alissi and the dark Jedi were in had been opened to the vacuum of space. It was a violent, if effective, way to end the battle.

Qui-Gon tackled Manya, pulling her to his chest.

"She told me to," the child sobbed. "I didn't want to do it, but she told me... oh, Master, no..."

Qui-Gon held the trembling child in his lap, stroking her back as she shook against him. He struggled to find his center, to cling to it and anchor the padawan in her grief. She continued to sob, wetting his tunic, her small hands twisting in the fabric.

"No, no... Master," she sobbed.

Obi-Wan touched Qui-Gon's shoulder. "We're not out of danger. I'm going to the bridge."

Qui-Gon could only nod in response. He knew he ought to tell the girl to focus, to push her grief aside until a more appropriate moment, but he couldn't form the words. He only wanted to comfort.

"Let me, Master Jinn." Rill had knelt beside them and was holding his arms open. Qui-Gon nodded, prying Manya's fingers off of his tunic. She went willingly into her brother's arms.

Qui-Gon left them on the floor of the cargo bay and sprinted to the bridge, swallowing down his sudden emotion. He'd barely known Alissi, and had no idea why she would have sacrificed herself this way. What had they gained from it?

He found Obi-Wan swearing loudly at the display. "They've just jumped into fucking hyperspace! We've lost them, again. Fuck!" The pilot, a Judicial officer, was gaping at him.

Qui-Gon resisted the urge to chastise his padwan for his language, instead extending a tendril of calm in his direction. "Can you trace them?"

"It happened too fast, sir," replied the navigator. "One minute they were firing at us, and the next... We could have done, if there'd been any warning."

"Fuck!" Obi-Wan hissed.

Qui-Gon sighed. "Scan the area for remains of two humans. If there are any parts... intact, tractor them in." Obi-Wan turned to face him, squinting. "They were both Jedi," Qui-Gon told him. "They deserve a proper pyre." Obi-Wan looked away.

"Where shall I set course, sir?" asked the navigator.

"Coruscant," Qui-Gon replied. "There's nothing more to be done here."

Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan in their cabin, stretched out on his bunk and staring up at nothing. He leaned back against the door, silent, letting his eyes drift over the lean lines of his apprentice's body, stripped down to leggings. Perhaps he had intended to sleep.

"It was a mistake," Obi-Wan said after a moment. "She sacrificed herself for nothing. Worse, we lost our chance to find out who this person is, what he wants." He closed his eyes.

"His name was Tran Hed-Kli," Qui-Gon said softly. "He was a friend of my Master's. I remember meeting him several times when I was a padawan." Obi-Wan had turned his head and was now staring at him in surprise. Qui-Gon crossed his arms over his chest. "He had a twin brother -- an identical twin -- who was killed not long after they were knighted. My master said he never really got past his brother's death."

Obi-Wan shifted into a sitting position, cross-legged and leaning against the wall. Qui-Gon waited for him to speak, but he didn't.

"He left the Order before I was knighted. I never knew what happened to him, though I do know that he kept in touch with Master Dooku." Obi-Wan's expression clouded. Qui-Gon had spoken of his own master only rarely, and had refused to answer the questions Obi-Wan had asked about the man when he was younger. Qui-Gon simply hadn't wanted to think about it.

"Do you think he's...?" Obi-Wan paused and looked away, leaving the question unasked. "Why did Master Benica want to die?"

Qui-Gon crossed the room and sat on the bunk next to Obi-Wan. "I cannot imagine what it would be like to lose someone as close as a brother. Alissi and Rollan Benica had a tremendous bond, and she must have felt like part of her soul was missing."

"She loved him too much to live without him?"

Qui-Gon smiled at the dramatic choice of words. "Perhaps. I imagine she was protecting her padawans, though, from losing each other."

Obi-Wan sighed. "I can't help questioning the Jedi policy of training twins as a team, if they can't function once separated."

Qui-Gon paused, considering. "But they're quite powerful together, Padawan."

"Is it truly worth it?" Obi-Wan asked. "Alissi commanded her own padawan to kill her. That was not an act of a well-balanced person. It was an act of cruelty, in my opinion."

Emotion rose in Qui-Gon's throat, along with memory of Manya sobbing into his chest. It began to overwhelm him, despite his efforts to swallow it down. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on breathing. Obi-Wan's arm slid around him, pulling him into an embrace. He leaned against his padawan, inhaling the scent of him, trembling against his warm body.

It was wrong to feel this way about his own apprentice. He knew it was wrong, and it would only get worse if he allowed himself to continue down this path. He couldn't allow himself to feel so deeply for anyone -- not again. He'd end up like Alissi -- sacrificing himself to save the one he loved, even when it wasn't the most judicious course of action, leaving Obi-Wan to pick up the pieces.

Obi-Wan stroked his hair and sighed. "Oh, Qui-Gon," he said, and kissed his forehead so tenderly it made Qui-Gon's heart lurch in his chest.

He pressed his face into the warm skin beneath him, surprised at the comfort this closeness was providing. His hand rested on Obi-Wan's hip and he moved it to the small of his back in an effort to hold on more tightly. Obi-Wan's hand stroked down his back in response. It felt good to be held, he reflected.

He took a deep breath and found the scent of Obi-Wan's skin nearly overwhelming. Desperate for more contact, he turned his head and kissed the closest stretch of skin. There was a small intake of breath above him, and Obi-Wan's arms tightened. Qui-Gon kissed the skin beneath his lips again, and again.

A dark nipple was within easy reach and he stroked it with the tip of his nose before licking across it experimentally. Obi-Wan whimpered, and the nipple was instantly hard. So easy to take it between his lips and suck lightly, bite just a little, roll the piercing around his tongue.

"Oh, Force... that feels good," he heard, just before a tongue traced the edge of his ear. It sent a chill down his spine.

Qui-Gon continued his ministration to the bud of flesh beneath his teeth, feeling the body beneath him tremble. He became aware of an erection pressed against his belly, and suddenly wanted nothing more than to touch it.

No, there was something he wanted more.

He slid down, taking the leggings with him, and took the hard shaft into his mouth. Obi-Wan keened above him, thrusting his hips up and gripping the bed cover hard in his hands. Qui-Gon tasted, sucked, licked, swallowed. It didn't take long for Obi-Wan to flood his mouth in release, panting. He felt oddly free, despite his earlier reservations. And he couldn't get enough of the taste of Obi-Wan's skin beneath his lips.

"Turn over," he rasped once the boy had stopped trembling. Obi-Wan complied, clearly enthusiastic.

"There's... ohhhh..."

Qui-Gon's tongue was working its way between the cheeks of the gorgeous ass spread before him.

"Something for... in the... bag... fuck..."

Qui-Gon blew a light breath across his entrance, desperately trying to go slowly. His own erection was pulsing, and he knew he could likely come just from doing this, without any penetration at all. He flicked his tongue over the pucker and nearly moaned when Obi-Wan buried his face in a pillow to muffle his cries.

The bag beside the bed did indeed contain lube; likely what Obi-Wan had used on himself days before. Qui-Gon's fingers fumbled with the bottle while his tongue breached his padawan's body, over and over.

He had to pull away to slick his cock, but his hands returned to pull the cheeks apart. He pressed forward steadily, feeling Obi-Wan press back, grunting, until he was fully sheathed.

He paused then, gazing down at the expanse of skin below him. He leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows and forcing Obi-Wan down flat. He rocked his hips, the movement slight.

"You are so beautiful like this," he whispered, mouth hovering over his apprentice's ear. Obi-Wan could only whimper in response. Qui-Gon kept his movements slow and steady, relishing the tightness produced by the position. He sank his teeth into the shoulder beneath him as he felt his orgasm coming, muffling his cry against the skin in his mouth.

Obi-Wan hissed, and Qui-Gon realized he'd bitten hard enough to bruise. He licked the spot he'd injured, channeling healing energy with his tongue until the skin returned to its normal color. Sated and head buzzing in the afterglow, he collapsed, covering the body beneath him.

"Master," Obi-Wan mumbled, voice muffled, "...incredible."

Qui-Gon awakened several hours later, still curled around his sticky padawan. The sense of horror and guilt he felt forced him out of bed and into the sonic shower, where he leaned against the wall and wondered where things had gone so very wrong. When he finally emerged, Obi-Wan was gone.

He spent the next few hours meditating in a quiet corner of the ship, trying to understand how he'd lost control. He knew better than to put himself -- or his apprentice -- in that position. After the disastrous mission, Obi-Wan was confused and needy, and Qui-Gon had taken advantage of that for a moment's pleasure. It was exactly the situation he'd feared, and the realization made him feel sick to his stomach.

The journey back to Coruscant seemed unbearably long. It was only because of the efforts of the five Jedi that none of the Judicials had been shot, and they all seemed stunned by the experience. Qui-Gon occasionally came across one of them, sitting alone and staring out of a port window into the blackness of space. He was offered a small smile when he passed, but no one tried to talk to him.

He couldn't bear to be in the same room with Obi-Wan, and found excuses to leave each time he caught sight of his apprentice. Obi-Wan got the hint fairly quickly and stopped trying to catch him alone. Qui-Gon knew his avoidance of the situation was bordering on juvenile, but the thought of facing Obi-Wan, after what had happened... He was simultaneously embarrassed, ashamed, and regretful. He needed to meditate, to sort this out for himself. Only then would he be able to discuss it rationally with his padawan.

After hours in hyperspace, the lights were turned down to simulate night. Qui-Gon sat at the table in the main hold, staring at his hands for a long time before finally deciding to return to the cabin to try to get some rest. He hesitated outside the door, reaching out to sense whether or not Obi-Wan was asleep.

He wasn't, and the door slid open before Qui-Gon could touch the panel.

"Get some sleep," his apprentice said in the darkness, a hint of irritation in his voice.

Yes, Master, Qui-Gon thought.

"I heard that."

The voice came from the top bunk. Qui-Gon couldn't help but smile at his padawan's thoughtfulness in leaving the bottom bunk free. He'd wondered how he was going how to climb into the top bunk in the dark. He settled down in his clothes, pulling the blanket over him, listening to the rhythmic breathing of his padawan above him.

Of course, he thought, Obi-Wan was sleeping in the clean bed. He snorted at that thought, and then grimaced. He hadn't given any thought to Obi-Wan's feelings about what had happened. He shook his head in the dark, wondering how they would be able to continue to work together after this. Obi-Wan's breathing became shallow above him, and he forced his mind to clear, hoping he could get at least a bit of sleep.

He had no idea what the hour was when he was awakened by the touch of a hand on his cheek. Obi-Wan was sitting beside him, looking down at him thoughtfully. Qui-Gon panicked for a moment, and then forced himself to relax.

"We should talk," Obi-Wan said, pulling his hand away.

He nodded. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to--"

"To make me feel like the biggest mistake you've ever made?" Obi-Wan interrupted.

Qui-Gon winced. "No, not..." He sighed, searching for the right words. "I took advantage of you yesterday. I had no right."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Obi-Wan sighed, near exasperated. "You think me a child, don't you? You think I don't know what I want."

"I know you have just had a very intense experience, and your feelings for me are confused as a result. It was wrong of me to--"

"How can you be so fucking blind?" Obi-Wan said, voice strained. "You've barely seen me for six months. You have no idea what I've experienced, how I've grown and changed. You don't know how I feel, Qui-Gon."

"Part of my responsibility as your master is to help you make the adjustment back to the Order. I've been in your place, Padawan, and I know how confusing it can be." He pushed himself into a sitting position, so he could look into the boy's eyes. "You've had a freedom you've never experienced, and you've done things you may never have an opportunity to do again. It's hard to regain the balance you need as a Jedi after you've lived like that."

Obi-Wan's eyes were hard. "I think you underestimate me, Master. I've never felt confined by the Order. In fact, I look forward to returning to the structure of my life there."

"I'm not underestimating you," Qui-Gon sighed. "I know you, Padawan."

Obi-Wan stood. "Are you so certain?" he asked. When Qui-Gon offered no response, he disappeared through the doorway.

They were met at the landing pad by Mace Windu himself. He didn't smile at them, only nodded in greeting; they were to report before the Council immediately. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance of irritation. Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to take a real water shower, preferably steaming hot, before collapsing into his favorite chair with a cup of tea.

He glared at the back of Mace's shiny head as they walked through the corridors of the Temple. Obi-Wan seemed calm, quietly walking a step behind him. He'd expected his padawan to be disoriented, or at least excited about being back at the Temple after all this time. All he felt from him, however, was serenity. It was all Qui-Gon could do not to turn and look at him.

The Council chamber was nearly empty, with only a few members present. Even Yoda was missing, which struck Qui-Gon as odd.

Mace took his seat, and the debriefing began. Qui-Gon explained the events of the last few days, including the deaths of Alissi Benica and Tran Hed-Kli. Obi-Wan remained silent until he was asked to fill in a few details about his undercover mission. They would both be expected to file complete reports in time. The Council seemed to want to hear the details surrounding the loss of a Jedi.

"Aligned with the Dark side, Hed-Kli was," Master Yoda's voice said. Qui-Gon turned to see the old Jedi crossing the chamber, having appeared seemingly from nowhere. Everyone watched as he climbed onto his cushioned seat at the center of the dais. "Turning to the dark, more and more former Jedi are," Yoda continued, large eyes contemplating the floor in front of him.

"Hed-Kli claimed to be working for someone else," Qui-Gon said. "Someone he referred to as his master."

Yoda's eyes met Qui-Gon's. He did not seem surprised by this information. "Disturbing, this is," he said.

"Who would want Jedi padawans?" Mace asked. "What purpose would that serve?"

"If these were Dark Jedi," Adi Gallia interjected, "they may have been interested in using the twins' power, perhaps in converting them to the Dark."

"Wasn't Hed-Kli a twin, himself?" Plo Kloon interjected. "He would understand the nature of that power, and its potential."

"The Sith recruited twins thousands of years ago," Qui-Gon stated. "We are extremely careful in the training of twins even now, precisely because of that potential for power." Obi-Wan turned to stare at him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Yoda's eyes narrowed. "Extinct, the Sith are."

"But there has been much interest in Sith artifacts these last years," Qui-Gon replied. "If there are former Jedi trying to learn the ways of the Sith, they could be dangerous."

Obi-Wan looked at the floor, expressionless.

"Meditate on this, we will," Yoda replied.

Mace cleared his throat. "The slaver who cooperated with the operation will be held here at the Temple for a few weeks. I imagine a visit from Padawan Kenobi might encourage her cooperation." Obi-Wan nodded in response.

"One more question," Master Kloon said, folding his hands in his lap. "Captain Talik of the Judicial forces reported that a large amount of data was downloaded from the Chermyn's computer after the ship was secured. The data were taken from an encrypted file in a secure subsystem, and the original files deleted." He paused, focusing his gaze on Obi-Wan. "Only a member of the crew would have been able to remove the files."

Qui-Gon's stomach twisted, and he turned to look at his apprentice. Obi-Wan had had time to remove those files. Qui-Gon had sent him off to collect his personal effects before they'd boarded the transport. But why would Obi-Wan have deleted sensitive files from the ship's computer?

Obi-Wan's jaw clenched, and he did not look at Qui-Gon. "I removed some files, Master Kloon," he said.

It was all Qui-Gon could do to remain silent. He stared at his apprentice instead, incredulous.

Kloon did not seem surprised. "Why did you do this, Padawan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan's voice remained steady. "I'm sorry, Master, but I cannot answer that question. You have my assurance, however, that no vital information about the slaving operation was contained in those files."

"What was contained in those files?"

"I apologize, Master. I cannot divulge that information."

Qui-Gon had never seen his apprentice defy a member of the Council. Padawan, he thought, unable to prevent the spike of intense emotion that passed through him. Obi-Wan flinched when he felt it, but otherwise did not respond. He only stood calmly and kept his eyes focused forward. There was a long silence.

"Very well," Kloon said at last. "You may go."

They bowed to the assembled Councilors and left. The doors had barely closed before Qui-Gon clenched Obi-Wan's arm and dragged him down the corridor, finally pushing the boy up against a wall.

"What are you doing?" he growled, surprised at the intensity of his anger. "Why didn't you tell them what you took?"

"I can't!" Obi-Wan replied, face showing emotion for the first time. "Master, please--"

"Don't give me an excuse, Padawan. I want the truth." He pressed Obi-Wan tightly against the wall -- and almost immediately realized this was a mistake. Obi-Wan was staring at him now, eyes wide with shock. Qui-Gon was losing control of his emotions, and of the situation. He released his apprentice and backed away, frustrated.

Obi-Wan's voice was infuriatingly calm. "I will explain, Master. But in private, please."

Qui-Gon glared at him before turning and stalking to their quarters. Obi-Wan followed silently, several paces behind.

He palmed open the door and stepped into a recently cleaned chamber. Their rucksacks had been placed on the floor in the center of the room. Qui-Gon took a calming breath while Obi-Wan began rummaging through his bag, pulling out a datapad. He keyed up some files and glanced nervously at Qui-Gon before crossing to the computer terminal and uploading them to the machine.

He cued up the first file and turned the monitor towards Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon's first thought was to pick his jaw up off the floor. His second thought was that he should sit, as soon as possible.

On the screen a 2-D video was playing, showing Obi-Wan straddling his lap -- riding his cock, close-up and in great detail. Obi-Wan touched a button on the panel.

Ah. Sound.

He watched, mortified, as the image of himself picked his apprentice up bodily and threw him onto the mattress before fucking him -- hard. And his onscreen partner was urging him on, describing what he was feeling in graphic detail.

"I found out this recording was made not long before the ship was boarded," Obi-Wan said quietly. He was blushing, which surprised Qui-Gon, for some reason. "I assumed it would be best if it wasn't seen by the Judicals, or the Council." He sighed and pursed his lips. "I imagine it would have found its way onto the holonet within a day if any of the troops had seen it."

"Why..." Qui-Gon's voice cracked, and he forced himself to begin again. "Why didn't you just delete the file?"

"This isn't the only one. There's one of the shower as well." Obi-Wan blushed even further. "I kept it because I thought..." he paused, looking down. "I suppose I thought I'd like to watch it again sometime."

Qui-Gon could only cough in response.

Obi-Wan's expression was pleading, yet determined. "Master, please. I will not turn these files over to anyone. I absolutely refuse. They can punish me if they wish."

"Is it so humiliating?" Qui-Gon retorted, a touch of bitterness seeping into his voice.

"No, of course not," Obi-Wan replied, blinking at him. "It's private. I was forced to share those moments -- which I do not regret -- with a shipful of pirates. I refuse to share you... to share this with anyone else."

Qui-Gon on the video was coming, and he howled, grinding into the body beneath him.

Qui-Gon standing in the room had a painful, guilty erection.

"Padawan, I'm sorry," he sighed. "I should have trusted you. I do wish you'd told me about this before."

"When?" Obi-Wan scoffed. "When you were telling me we'd talk about the sex later? Or when you made love to me on the transport? I certainly wasn't going to bring it up then; you would have run at the first sign of trouble as it was. How about afterwards, when you avoided me for nearly ten hours? Or later, when you reminded me of what a child I am, and of how much I have yet to learn?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and sighed. "Obi-Wan--"

"No, you're going to hear this, Qui-Gon. Sit."

Obi-Wan crossed the room and sat on the sofa. He gestured to Qui-Gon's favorite chair, and Qui-Gon complied, steeling himself.

"We've spent six months apart, Master. I have learned a great deal during that time, and I've changed. But not in the way you think." He paused, but Qui-Gon said nothing. "I'm not you, Master. I don't long for the freedom of the galaxy. All I have ever wanted is here, at the Temple." He looked up at Qui-Gon. "All I ask is that you open your eyes. Get to know me again. You owe me that much."

Obi-Wan stood and crossed to the window, gazing out at the traffic flying by. Qui-Gon sighed, not sure what to say.

Had he really underestimated his apprentice? The boy was barely 22, certainly years from knighthood. Before this mission, he never would have expected such open defiance of the Council, or of Qui-Gon himself. Since their botched mission to Melida/Daan and their subsequent repartnering, Obi-Wan had been a model padawan. He'd bent over backwards to meet Qui-Gon's expectations. Qui-Gon hadn't seen such defiance in him for more than five years.

Perhaps that was part of the problem. He associated defiance in his padawan with youthful rebellion. Yet his recent defiance was measured, logical. It made sense. It was not unlike his own occasional acts of rebellion against the Council and the Code.

He'd been deeply impressed by Obi-Wan's leadership and control during the mission. Had his padawan grown up before his very eyes?

"I apologize if I've underestimated you," Qui-Gon managed at last, looking at his hands. "And I'm sorry for my behavior. I should never have led you to believe there could be something more between us than..." He trailed off, and Obi-Wan turned to face him. Qui-Gon sighed. "It isn't that I don't care for you, or that I don't want--"

"I know," Obi-Wan replied, expression intensely sad. "I knew you'd return to celibacy, afterwards. I knew you'd resent me for it, and that I'd ruined any chance of..." His eyes seemed bright, and he looked away. "I don't regret it, though. I knew what I was risking. Even if you hated me afterwards, I couldn't just stand by and watch them abuse you."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, swallowing a flash of anger. "Did it not occur to you that that would have been easier for me? I could have withstood rape and torture, but you... You violated something they could not have touched."

Obi-Wan made a choking sound, and shook his head. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, and left the room.

Qui-Gon sank to the floor, hoping meditation would ease the pain that suddenly overwhelmed him. It was true, wasn't it? He hadn't wanted it. Obi-Wan had forced it on him, had forced him to give his consent to something he would never had done under other circumstances. He could hardly look at his apprentice now without seeing Obi-Wan kneeling at his feet, shirtless and glittering, and smiling seductively at him and...

And he'd asked Qui-Gon's permission, in a way. But he'd made it impossible to refuse, hadn't he?

Qui-Gon sighed. It was his problem, not Obi-Wan's. His apprentice had done nothing wrong. It was Qui-Gon who couldn't let the memory go, couldn't get his apprentice's mouth and hands and eyes out of his mind. It was Qui-Gon who still wanted it, despite everything.

He would meditate on this at length. He would expose his deepest emotions regarding his apprentice. He would take responsibility for his own behavior, and then he would ask Obi-Wan to forgive him.

The Senate guard motioned for Qui-Gon to enter the cell holding C'Lon. She glanced up as the door opened.

"What do you want?" she scowled.

Qui-Gon looked around the small room. It was much more pleasantly-appointed than the cell on the Judicial ship had been, with a comfortable-looking sleep couch, a small 'fresher unit, and an entertainment console. He noticed it was tuned to a holo-serial.

"I wanted to talk to you about Obi-Wan," he replied.

C'Lon's eyes narrowed, but she nodded, and gestured toward a chair near the sleep couch. Qui-Gon nodded at the guard, who closed the door behind him as he left.

"What about him?" she asked, settling onto the couch.

"You seem to care for him," Qui-Gon replied, sitting. "I'd like to know why."

"It's none of your concern," C'Lon snorted. "I'm under no obligation to provide personal information, you know."

"Of course not," Qui-Gon said, smiling. "This is off the record." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "My padawan has changed a great deal as a result of working for you. I'm trying to understand what happened to him."

She smirked. "What, did he learn a lot of tricks while he was gone, and you're jealous of who might have taught him?" Qui-Gon gave her a long look, and C'Lon laughed. "I see. You're trying to get back into his good graces. Can't say I blame you for that."

Qui-Gon ignored the jibe. "You gave him a great deal of responsibility in your operation. Why did you trust him, when you barely knew him?"

C'Lon's smile faded. "No idea. He probably used one of those Jedi mind tricks on me. Even when I got suspicious, he fed me this story about you rejecting him when he was a kid, and being sent off to work on some planet, then running away and becoming a prostitute." Qui-Gon swallowed, uncertain why Obi-Wan would have chosen that scenario as his cover story. C'Lon was silent for a moment. "He was a good kid," she continued, voice softening. "He cared about the welfare of the slaves, and he did his job well. He saved my life on two occasions." She looked up at Qui-Gon. "And he ain't too rough on the eyes, either."

"I suppose that's true," Qui-Gon smiled.

"He reminded me of... of someone." She frowned. It seemed she'd said something she hadn't meant to.

"Who?" Qui-Gon asked, when she didn't seem about to volunteer the information.

C'Lon sighed and looked up at him, as if trying to make a decision. Her eyes tightened, and she leaned back against the wall. "I was born a slave," she said at last. "I was raised as a house-servant to a wealthy Twi'lek merchant. But he lost his fortune gambling, so I was sold, sent away from my parents, away from my brothers and sisters." She paused, and Qui-Gon watched her face. He extended a tendril of the Force in her direction. She seemed to be telling the truth.

"I was sold from place to place for several years," she continued. "On Malask, I met another slave named Esvan. I'd never expected to fall in love, but I did. We had a child." She paused and looked away. "When my son was old enough to work, he was sold. Esvan was sold not long after that, and I never saw either of them again."

Qui-Gon nodded; he'd heard such stories before. However, most slaves didn't go on to control operations like C'Lon's. "How did you become a slaver yourself?"

"I was sold to a slaver to work as his personal assistant." She hesitated, and Qui-Gon assumed the word personal implied more than C'Lon cared to remember. "As owners go, he was fair, and I was able to work my way up through his organization. He freed me, about twenty years ago. Said I'd earned it. A year later, he was dead, and I inherited his business, so to speak." She held her chin up in a defiant gesture. "I knew how everything worked, and I killed the ones who got in my way. I freed all the human slaves, and thought I'd just sell off the rest, you know? Make enough money to start a new life. Look for my son."

"But the business was more lucrative than you'd imagined," Qui-Gon said.

C'Lon nodded. "It's amazing what you'll do for more money, once you've got a taste for the power it can bring. I'd been raised to believe that humans were better than non-humans, so I thought if I only dealt in non-human slaves, it wasn't really so wrong. All the human slaves I'd known did more important work anyway, and..." She paused, shaking her head. "I'll be the first to admit to my prejudices. It's easier to think of non-humans as less sentient than yourself."

"I suppose." Qui-Gon waited for her to continue. She stared at her hands for a long time.

"Erat is ten years younger than my son would be now. I couldn't help but..." She shook her head, trailing off.

"Do you know what happened to your son?" Qui-Gon prodded, voice soft.

"He was killed by a Jedi," C'Lon replied, voice flat. "At least, that's what his owner told me, just before I put a blaster bolt through his head." She looked up at Qui-Gon, eyes displaying a strange blend of defiance and sadness. "He got in the way. He wasn't doing anything wrong. And nothing happened to that Jedi. My boy was a slave, so his life didn't matter, not even to those who are supposed to be the protectors of the Republic." She looked away, and Qui-Gon sighed. He'd heard stories like this countless times before, and he never knew what to say. "And here I am," she continued, "helping you. If I'd recognized Erat for what he was sooner, I'd've killed him myself. But I got to know him. He's a good man, and I still trust him, despite everything." She looked up at Qui-Gon, her eyes clear. "We do such stupid things in the name of love, don't we? I loved my husband and my son. I spent years telling myself they would have wanted me to have the wealth and power I'd accumulated, that they would've wanted me to do what I was doing. But I saw my son reflected in Erat's eyes, and I saw that he would have been ashamed of what I'd become. I thought I was doing it for them, but I sacrificed their memory, in the end, for my own selfish gain."

I sacrificed her memory, for myself...

Qui-Gon stared at her, unable to speak and completely humbled. Wisdom could be found in such unexpected places, if one only looked for it. Had he learned nothing from Tahl? She had been so willing to love him, and he repaid her that lesson by denying himself the opportunity to love anyone else. He exhaled, overwhelmed with the realization that he'd been wrong -- about everything.

"I want your apprentice to be the one to question me," C'Lon said, straightening up. "I won't cooperate with anyone else. I don't care if they throw me in prison for the rest of my life."

"I'll tell the Judicial inquisitor," Qui-Gon replied, standing. He walked to the door, then paused. "Obi-Wan cares about you, as well," he said, without looking back. The cell behind him was silent as the door closed.

It was a week before Qui-Gon was able to speak to Obi-Wan again. Obi-Wan had seemed willing to give Qui-Gon the space he needed, nodding to him in passing and retreating silently to his room at night. Qui-Gon could sense pain beneath the mask he wore, but he wasn't certain if the pain had to do with him or with the situation with C'Lon.

He spent his time in meditation while his apprentice worked with C'Lon and the Judicial investigators for long stretches of time each day. After a few days of silence, Qui-Gon began to watch his padawan more closely. He spoke with the investigators about Obi-Wan's handling of C'Lon's case. He watched him spar with the twins; Obi-Wan had taken a special interest in the children since their return.

Obi-Wan had indeed changed a great deal in six months. He was more sure and confident, his connection with the Force was deeper, and he seemed to be able to read other beings' emotions and desires with an uncanny accuracy. He'd stayed in shape while undercover, and though his saber technique was rusty, he still moved with the fluid grace Qui-Gon had always admired.

His padawan had become a man, and he hadn't been there to see it happen. Perhaps that had been a blessing, in a way. Perhaps they needed this time apart so that they could renew their relationship. Perhaps it was time for their partnership to change.

On Sixthday evening, he finally found his apprentice meditating in their quarters -- calm, quiet, even serene. Qui-Gon shifted his weight from one foot to the other for a several minutes, waiting. He hated having his own meditation interrupted, but he was feeling uncharacteristically impatient.

"Master," Obi-Wan breathed at last, opening his eyes. Qui-Gon sat on the floor in front of him, relieved. Obi-Wan smiled, though the expression was sad.

Qui-Gon found he could think of nothing to say, despite the fact that he'd been rehearsing words in his mind all day. "How are you?" he managed, finally.

"Fine," Obi-Wan replied, ducking his head. If he could sense his master's unease, he had the grace not to mention it. "I'm worried about the twins."

"They've been returned to the initiate ranks, haven't they?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "They understand, though they can't help but feel affronted. They've had so many experiences the others haven't, and it's difficult to fit in again."

"The Council have not decided how best to continue their training," Qui-Gon noted.

"It's just so terribly tragic," Obi-Wan sighed. "They're angry, and I don't blame them." He hesitated, biting his lip, and then looked up. "I can't stop thinking about what happened. What did Master Benica hope to accomplish with her death?"

"I believe she sensed the darkness in Hed-Kli," Qui-Gon replied. "She guessed what his intentions were, and she panicked. She would have done anything to prevent a dark Jedi from taking her padawans." Qui-Gon paused. "I would have done the same for you."

Obi-Wan was quiet for several seconds, staring at the floor in front of him. "Do you believe he was working with the Sith?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "I know it seems far-fetched, but I am more convinced of it every day. The trail may have gone cold, but we haven't seen the last of the one who wanted those children."

"C'Lon told us everything she knew. Whoever he was, he was quite careful, and covered his tracks well."

"What will happen to her now?"

"My original mission was to infiltrate her operation, since she was so well-connected in the trade. She's been more cooperative than anyone expected. I believe the Judicials have already made some important arrests based on her information." Obi-Wan smiled tightly. "Her sentence will be decided next week, and I've advocated for the minimum: a low-security facility, with counseling and vocational training. I'm certain her past will garner some sympathy." He stood then, and walked to the window, staring out into the brightly-lit traffic lanes. "You said my affection for her might save her. I hope you were right."

Silence stretched out between them, and Qui-Gon wondered what Obi-Wan was thinking. He'd kept his thoughts carefully shielded since their argument a week ago.

"I hope you can forgive me, Master," he said at last. "I realize now how much I hurt you, and that I've seriously damaged our relationship. I know you care for me, despite what I did, and that is enough." He pressed one palm against the glass. "I'll admit I hoped for more, but I'll get over it. It won't get in the way of my training."

Qui-Gon rose and moved to stand at the window beside Obi-Wan, looking at his apprentice's face in profile. He was solid and confident, and strong in the Force. He was intelligent and thoughtful. He still had difficulty containing his anger, but then, Qui-Gon did as well.

And he was stunningly beautiful, framed in the soft light of the city.

Obi-Wan turned to him, surprised. He blinked for a moment and then smiled. "Really, Master. You ought to shield."

Qui-Gon grinned, caught off-guard. "When did you become so adept at picking up thoughts and emotions?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I learned a great deal working undercover for six months."

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. "You did. I'll remember to be more careful." His apprentice lifted an eyebrow in response. "I owe you an apology, Obi-Wan. I have underestimated you. You constantly surpass my expectations, though, so I should have expected more from you than I did."

Obi-Wan looked out the window again. "May I ask a personal question?"

"Of course."

"Why did you take that vow?"

Qui-Gon sighed and looked out the window as well. "I was frightened. I'd never come so close to losing myself as I did when Tahl died. I saw what it did to you, and I... you needed a master, and you deserved all of my attention. I couldn't spare any for a lover."

Obi-Wan nodded. "I was jealous of her. Part of me was glad when she died."

"I know." They were both silent for several seconds.

"After seeing what Master Benica did for love, I can't help but wonder--"

Qui-Gon cut him off with a gesture. "Don't wonder about the appropriateness of love, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan snorted. "How can I not? Look what my love for you made me do. Look what Master Benica did."

Qui-Gon pursed his lips. "On the transport last week, someone said there are more important things than love. I've since been haunted by that remark, and I've finally decided I disagree." Obi-Wan turned to face him, curious. "Everything we do that truly matters, we do for love, Padawan. There is no other reason to do good, or to do evil, for that matter. It is only when you love someone or something above yourself that you find the strength to do great things."

Obi-Wan pressed his forehead against the transparisteel window. "But are such sacrifices for love worth the pain they cause? Master, I knew you had taken a vow of celibacy, and I also knew that if I were the one to force you to break it, you might never forgive me. I couldn't just let them..." He paused, clenching his jaw. "I'd seen it happen a hundred times, to others, and I couldn't bear the thought. I didn't care if you hated me afterwards. I thought it was better than the alternative."

"It was," Qui-Gon replied, but Obi-Wan didn't seem to hear.

"When you suggested it would have been easier if I hadn't..." He shook his head. "I realized what a fool I've been, and that I should not have put my concern for you above the mission. I nearly blew my cover, and C'Lon would have killed me herself had she discovered the truth."

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon reached for his apprentice's hand and took a calming breath. "I've meditated on my feelings about this at great length. I want you to know I'm not angry about what happened between us. In fact..." He traced his thumb over Obi-Wan's palm, and his apprentice looked up at him. "I'm glad it was you. I know I said otherwise, but... thank you."

Obi-Wan stared at him, as if uncertain how to respond. "I'm... that means a lot."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath. Why was this so difficult? "And I'm glad we had that night on the transport, as well. Despite how I reacted afterwards, I don't regret it."

Obi-Wan swallowed. "Neither do I."

There was nothing for it but to charge ahead and say what he'd been planning to say. Qui-Gon's mouth went dry, and he opened and closed it a few times before finally managing to speak. "I was misguided when I took that vow. I thought I could avoid developing intense feelings for another without a sexual relationship, but I see now that I was being remarkably naïve."

"You're not naïve," Obi-Wan protested.

"I am many things that would surprise you," Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan's ears turned an adorable shade of pink. He squeezed Qui-Gon's hand, and Qui-Gon reached out to touch his face. "You're my apprentice, but you're also a man I care for very much. I'm not certain we should be lovers, but... I'm willing to consider the possibility."

Obi-Wan continued to stare at him for a long moment, and then his lips twisted into a smile. "What sort of consideration did you have in mind?"

Qui-Gon fought the urge to grin, and tugged Obi-Wan closer. Light from passing traffic played over his face, making his eyes seem to flash. Qui-Gon could feel him trembling.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, just before he pressed his lips against Obi-Wan's. Obi-Wan kissed him back, tentatively at first, and then slid his arms around Qui-Gon's body. They remained like that for a long time, their kisses growing more and more intense. Obi-Wan pulled away at last, and buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck.

"Are you sure?" he whispered. "I don't think I could bear it if you woke up in the morning and regretted making love to me."

Qui-Gon kissed his forehead. "There will be things to regret, Obi-Wan, but waking up with you won't be one of them. That much I am prepared to give you."

Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes twinkling. "I hope you're prepared to give me quite a lot more than that." He raised an eyebrow, and the seductive grin on his face was that of Erat Chol.

Qui-Gon laughed, and kissed him again. He felt a smile against his lips, and then he stopped thinking altogether.

FIN

Real love stories never have an ending.

~ Anonymous ~

Read the Author Notes