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The Finer Shades of Why, Part 3

by Kalujinn and The Rose (kalujinn@earthlink.net and rosarocaminis@yahoo.com)

Neesi Vortrela answered Qui-Gon's call personally.

"What's happened?" she asked immediately, reading the Jedi's face.

"He was in pain," Qui-Gon said, running a hand over his forehead in an effort to soothe away the headache that was rapidly developing behind his eyes. "He was sitting on the floor of the 'fresher, with his arms wrapped around his head, rocking back and forth like a frightened child. He said 'the voice' hurt."

"The voice?" the Healer asked. "What voice?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I have no idea. He didn't seem to be in any condition to explain, so I nudged him to sleep and returned him to his bed."

Neesi nodded, though her expression was troubled. "I almost wish you hadn't done that, although I can see why you did. I would have liked to know more about this voice he's hearing."

"Master?" Anakin's voice said softly from the doorway. "I heard it, too. Sort of."

The Jedi turned in surprise to his ten-year-old Padawan. "What did you hear?" he asked, beckoning the boy closer.

"I don't know for sure," Anakin answered, his youthful face twisted with confusion. "I was asleep, I think, so it could have been a dream. If so, it was the realest dream I've ever had. I couldn't make out any words, but it was pretty scary." He glanced from the Healer's image to his Master's face, his eyes wide. "That's what woke me up, Master. It was like - I don't know - like something evil was coming, following us, maybe. But, then, after talking to you, it seemed silly."

The Healer looked at Qui-Gon sharply. "It still might be a figment of his imagination, Qui," she said. "Anakin is very sensitive. It could just be that he picked up on Obi-Wan's delusion. Just because he thinks he's hearing a voice, doesn't make it real." She paused for a settling breath. "Of course, if he is really hearing it . . ."

Qui-Gon felt a cold shard of ice settling into his stomach. "If he is hearing it, it has to be the Sith," he said in a hushed voice. He met Neesi's eyes. "Maybe Anakin's not the target, after all. Maybe it's Obi-Wan."

Neesi Vortrela gasped audibly. "And if the Sith is able to implant thoughts directly into his mind . . . " She trailed off, going slightly pale. "How long before you reach Coruscant?"

"A little over three days," Qui-Gon responded, feeling the press of time.

"Should I send a security team out to meet you?"

The Jedi Master shook his head. "No. That would necessitate coming out of hyperspace for the rendezvous. We'd be too vulnerable then. I'll just have to shield them both until we get back to the Temple."

Neesi looked skeptical, but she nodded. "May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon," she said.

"Thank you." Breaking the connection, he looked down into the troubled face of his Padawan. "Anakin, I'm sorry I dismissed your concerns earlier. You were right to come to me, and I was wrong not to pay more attention."

"That's all right, Master."

"No, it isn't. And, in the future, I want you to feel free to make me listen. Do you think you can do that?"

Doubt scrunched up the boy's features. "Maybe," he said. Then, he looked Qui-Gon straight in the eye. "The Sith is after Obi?" he asked.

Qui-Gon reached out to clasp the boy's shoulder firmly. "Perhaps."

"But, you thought he was after me, didn't you?"

The Master sighed. "Yes, Padawan. I did. And, that still might prove to be the case. But, I don't want you to worry, all right? I won't let any harm come to either of you." He got to his feet. "Now, back to bed, Anakin."

"What are you going to do?" the boy asked when his Master followed him.

"I'm going to try to talk to Obi-Wan."

He came awake to the feeling of being gently shaken. He flinched away even as he opened his eyes to see Jinn standing over him. The Jedi looked strange, like he was tired or worried or thinking hard about something, his brow creased with tension lines. Obi-Wan shifted in the bed. The pain is his head was gone, and the voice was silent for now.

"What do you want?" he asked, eyeing the Jedi warily.

"We need to talk about what happened."

"Nothing happened. Nothing new, anyway," Obi-Wan said. "I'm going crazy. That ought to be obvious even to you."

Jinn's expression changed, softening to something like sympathy. "Why do you think you're going crazy?" he asked.

"Because I'm hearing a fucking voice in my head, that's why!" Obi-Wan screamed, coming up onto one elbow as far away from the other man as he could get. "That's not something a sane man does, is it?" To his distress, the Jedi sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in closer.

"Tell me about the voice, Obi-Wan."

"No! I don't want to talk about it! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

Jinn moved one hand slightly in what might have been meant as a calming gesture, but looked suspiciously like a Jedi attempt to affect his mind. Not that he believed in that sort of thing anymore. "Tell me about the voice."

"Fuck you!" the young man shouted, reaching to shove Jinn away. But those large, powerful hands caught his shoulders and pressed him down into the mattress. "Get your hands off me!" he demanded, struggling. Jinn pinned him easily.

"Relax," the Jedi said in that infuriatingly calm way of his. "I just want to know about the voice."

"Why?" Obi-Wan demanded, still writhing helplessly in the Jedi's hold.

"Because, it may not have been your imagination."

The former slave froze, feeling a shiver travel up his spine. "What?" he asked, rather dumbfounded. He felt Jinn's grip tighten almost imperceptibly.

"Anakin heard it, too."

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself, as if that could somehow shield him, and tore his gaze away from the indigo one above him. "How is that possible?" he asked somewhat shakily.

"Believe me," the Jedi said softly, "it's possible." He released his grip on Obi-Wan's shoulders and pulled up the fallen blanket. "But, don't worry. If it was the Sith, he won't bother you again."

"Oh? And how do you know that?"

"Because I won't let him."

Obi-Wan laughed openly at that. "Yeah, right," he said. "You just keep your delusions, old man." He rolled over, turning his back to the Jedi. "But, I told you. I don't want to talk about this."

Jinn sighed, then rose fluidly to his feet. "Try to sleep, Obi-Wan. I'll be nearby if you need me."

"Fat chance," the former slave muttered as Jinn slipped silently from the room. He glanced around at the dark corners of the small cabin, suppressing a shudder, then pulled the covers higher and tried to forget that tonight had ever happened.

Obi-Wan's eyes flew open, probing the darkness around him. He sat up, one hand wiping at the dampness on his cheeks. He realized he'd been dreaming again, about being cast out of the Jedi Order and sent to Agricorps, and that he'd been crying in his sleep. Surprisingly, though, he felt more rested. At least the voice hadn't returned.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and dropped his face into his hands. The lingering echo of the despair he had felt all those years ago rested heavily upon his heart now. He glanced at his pillow, but sleep held no appeal for him. He grabbed his leggings, stepped into them and rose, tying his laces as he left his cabin. The door to Anakin's bunk was open. The boy slept soundly, his covers askew. Obi-Wan went in and drew them up, smoothing them with a gentle hand. He stood for a long moment, listening to the boy's rhythmic breathing.

Was I ever that innocent? he asked himself, trying to think back to when he was an Initiate. He remembered looking forward to his future, to having a Master of his own, to one day being a Knight. He remembered trusting his teachers, trusting the Force. But, he also remembered knowing, even then, what a dangerous, dark place the galaxy could be. I'm better off now, he thought. I had some rough years, but I still have a future. I'll just have to make it for myself, that's all.

Sighing, he headed for the cockpit. As he had expected, the Jedi was awake, though he looked very tired. He was seated in the pilot's chair, sipping at a cup of hot tea. Obi-Wan dropped into the seat beside him, one leg draped over the armrest. In a sardonic tone, he asked, "Don't you ever sleep?"

Jinn's mouth quirked as he glanced Obi-Wan's way. "I've been known to partake, on occasion." He went back to the book he had been reading.

With the memory of his dream fresh in his mind, Obi-Wan noted the changes that time had wrought on the older man. The shades of gray, only a whisper at the man's temples a decade before, liberally streaked his long hair. Fine lines, once almost unnoticeable, were more prominent in the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. Still and all, the Jedi remained remarkably unchanged. His shoulders were as broad as ever, his figure imposing to one of slighter build. Clearly, his profession required that he be in top physical condition.

Jinn glanced over at him, a questioning look on his face. Obi-Wan turned his gaze to the streaking starfield before him. After several minutes, he quietly asked, "Did you ever regret it? Not choosing me, I mean."

Jinn closed his eyes. "Every day."

The Jedi shut his book and placed it on the floor beside him. He drew one foot up and propped the sole against the console before him. "Your eyes --- they haunted me for years. The pain, the disappointment," he confessed. "I knew the instant I looked into your eyes that I had made the wrong choice. What's worse, Bruck knew it too."

"He did?" Obi-Wan prompted, wanting to know more, needing to understand Jinn's thoughts.

"Yes. I believe he always felt he was living in the shadow of what might have been." His voice was soft and tinged with regret. "His last words were of you."

"Me?" The former slave sat up, a quiver of shock racing through him. "What did he say?"

"He asked me why I didn't choose you, that the Force had intended you to be my Padawan." Jinn's deep blue eyes focused on him.

"What did you tell him?"

"He died before I - " The Jedi cleared his throat, looking down intently at the buckles on his tall boot as he struggled to regain his composure. "Before I could tell him it was pure stubbornness that dictated my choice."

"I don't understand," Obi-Wan said.

"The Council, and more specifically Master Yoda, had been after me for years to take another apprentice. I had put it off, but the year you came along, well, he really turned up the pressure," Jinn remembered. "He kept pointing you out to me, making comments about what a superb student you were, so serious, so dedicated. He said you would be a great Jedi Knight."

"Me?" Obi-Wan touched his chest doubtfully.

Jinn nodded. "On the day of the Choosing, he was merciless. He kept after me, telling me I needed to grab you before some other, less deserving, Master claimed you." Jinn's eyes were unfocused as he traced the memory of that day. "But, I couldn't help recalling my first Padawan. Everyone had urged me to take him, too. He was the best and the brightest, they said, destined to be a great Jedi, and that he needed a strong Master. I -"

He broke off for a moment before continuing. "I was drawn to him. I knew he was the best, and I wanted him. So, I took him as my Padawan."

"What happened?" Obi-Wan asked when it seemed Jinn wouldn't continue.

"He turned."

Obi-Wan felt cold crawl up his spine. "Turned? As in, to the dark side?" he asked, forgetting for a moment that he didn't really believe in that anymore.

Jinn nodded again. "Yes. It nearly destroyed me, and made me completely unwilling to accept another Padawan. I was afraid. When finally I felt compelled to choose another, I was too obstinate to take anyone's advice. It was that fear and that obstinacy that led me to choose Bruck."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Obi-Wan chuckled. "Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

Jinn went on, as if he hadn't heard the younger man's comment. "When I think of all that you were forced to endure because of my foolishness - "

Obi-Wan, his throat tightening, rose abruptly. "Forget it. You couldn't have known what would happen to me."

"I can't forget it," Jinn replied in a voice gone hoarse with regret. He resolutely kept his eyes down, not looking at the younger man. "Can you? Can you forget what I've done to you?"

Obi-Wan pondered his question for a long moment. Part of him wanted to forgive this man, to move on and leave the past where it belonged - in the past. But the niggling core of anger that had warmed and sustained him for so many years would not allow him to utter the words. The best he could manage was a comforting touch on the Jedi's shoulder as he exited the cockpit.

He returned to his cabin and sat down on the edge of his bunk. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The Jedi's words tumbled through his mind. Superb student, great Jedi Knight. For Master Yoda to have said those things about him was almost more than he could comprehend. To know that one so revered in the Jedi Order had held him in high regard was both soul warming and heartbreaking.

What are you getting at, Kenobi? He asked himself. You know it's all a cover for some mental disorder. Even as the thought raced through his mind, part of him recognized a curious lack of conviction. If Jinn truly were a madman, he concealed his symptoms well. Even when Obi-Wan had intentionally tried to provoke him, Jinn had behaved in a rational, civilized manner. The former slave had tried his patience sorely, yet the Jedi had never lashed out in anger.

"You seem sad," a youthful voice interrupted his musings. Anakin, clad in his sleep clothes with a blanket draped around his shoulders, was leaning against the doorframe leading into Obi-Wan's cabin. The former slave nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you want me to tell you a story? That's what Master Qui-Gon does when I'm sad, and it always works for me."

"Sure," Obi-Wan said, a smile teasing at his lips as he patted the bed beside him. Anakin joined him.

"Did you know that Master Qui-Gon was a gambling man?" he asked brightly.

Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows as he shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"Master Qui-Gon won me in a bet with my former master," Anakin declared. "He said he would take me to the Temple, that I would become a Jedi Knight someday." The boy paused for a breath, then dived back into his story. "He and Padme, she's the queen of the Naboo you know, they came to Mos Espa where I lived with my mom. You'd love my mom, Obi-Wan, she's great! Anyway, their ship was broken, so they came to get some parts. That's how they met me! I belonged to Watto, the junk dealer."

Despite himself, Obi-Wan felt himself drawn into the boy's tale. It was the first time in years that he had heard someone's personal history without it ending in a slave trader's pen. The boy told of the podrace on Boonta's Eve, how Sebulba had tried every dirty trick in the book to defeat him, and how the crowds had carried them on their shoulders in celebration of his victory.

Obi-Wan took pleasure at the excitement in the boy's voice, but his smile faded a moment later when Anakin's eyes lost their glow. "The Council said I was too old to train, and too fearful. I don't think they liked me very much."

"If the Council said that, how are you here now?" Obi-Wan wanted to know.

"Master Qui-Gon stood up for me. He told them he'd take me as his Padawan, as soon as Bruck was Knighted. They argued for a long time, but he refused to back down." He leaned over and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He can be a little stubborn, you know."

"Yes, I've noticed," the former slave said, his voice going soft as he contemplated what Anakin had unknowingly revealed about his Master. The man would go to war for what he believed in, what he thought was the right thing to do. He felt his brows draw together. "And, he actually made the Jedi Council back down?"

"Yep," Anakin said proudly. "They finally agreed to let him train me."

"And then, Bruck was killed?"

"Yeah." Anakin nodded solemnly. "My Master took it very hard. He felt like it was his fault, like he should have been able to prevent it. Master Yoda told him it was the will of the Force, but that didn't make Master Qui-Gon feel any better, I think."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. Then, he glanced over at the boy. "It's really late," he said. "You should try to get some more sleep."

Anakin slid to his feet. "Okay," he said agreeably. "It's okay if you want to sleep, too. He's shielding us, you know."

"Shielding us?"

The boy nodded. "Uh huh. From the Sith. And Master Jinn is really strong in the Force. As long as he's shielding us, we don't have to worry about anything." He drew his blanket tighter around him and headed for the door. "Good night, then."

"Good night."

He watched the boy go, listened to the faint sound of him crawling back into bed, and let his mind wander back to the strained look on Jinn's face. Could that be why he looked so tired? Was he really using the power of the Force to keep the Sith at bay?

Don't play into his delusion, Kenobi, he scolded himself sternly. He rolled into bed and pulled up the covers. Still, it was a long time before he fell asleep.

He was awakened sometime later by Jinn's voice.

"Get dressed," the Jedi Master said, standing just outside Obi-Wan's doorway. "Meet me in the main cabin in five minutes."

"Wha-?" Obi-Wan sat up on his bunk, but the other man had already disappeared. He felt a knot of unease forming in his stomach, but curiosity won out. He dressed quickly, donning his pair of dark brown leggings and voluminous shirt of a similar shade. He picked up the ankle boots he had been given on Devinnar 3 and left his quarters.

Seated on the floor of the common area just behind the cockpit, the Jedi Master had one leg extended before him, the other crossed over his knee. He was slowly rotating his torso, stretching the muscles along his ribs and spine. His tunic lay haphazardly across his discarded boots; he wore only his tan leggings and his long braided hair hung down his bare back.

"What do you want?" Obi-Wan asked a bit belligerently as he sat in one of the chairs to draw on his boots.

"Leave them off," Jinn ordered tersely. "And lose the shirt, too."

Obi-Wan felt his gut tighten nervously. "Why?"

"It will only get in the way. Besides, I want to be able to see how you move in response to me." Jinn pressed the soles of his feet together and drew his heels back towards his body. He leaned over them, lightly bouncing his knees.

So, Obi-Wan thought as he grabbed the back of his collar and tugged the shirt off over his head. This is it. This is where it's going to happen. A shiver raced through his body, but whether it was one of dread or anticipation, he could not say.

"Where's the kid?" he asked, after clearing his throat a bit nervously.

"He's still asleep," Jinn replied, rolling his head from side to side.

"Aren't you worried he'll walk in on us?" Obi-Wan stood up from his chair and began tugging at the lacings of his leggings.

"What are you doing?" Jinn asked quietly, his movements stilling as his eyes focused on his companion.

"Getting undressed." Obi-Wan shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole affair. "Unless, you'd prefer to rip the clothes from my body."

Jinn shook his head emphatically as he stood up. "No, Obi-Wan."

"All right, then." He slipped his thumbs underneath the waistband of his pants and began pushing them down over his hips.

"Stop!" Jinn stepped close and grabbed the fabric, pulling it up again. "I didn't call you in here to have sex with you."

Obi-Wan felt an unexpected pang of disappointment settle in his heart. "Then, what am I doing here?"

"I planned on showing you some methods of self-defense." Jinn released his grip on Obi-Wan's pants and stepped away, averting his eyes from the other's form. "Once you're free of that collar, you'll become a tempting target for anyone wanting to exploit your natural abilities. You'll need to know how to defend yourself."

"Oh," Obi-Wan said woodenly. He hurriedly tied the lacings of his pants, a stain of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. As it began to fade, his discomfort turned to anger when the rest of Jinn's statement soaked in. "Look, the collar's not coming off, so I don't need your fucking help, okay? I can take care of myself just fine."

Jinn turned to look at him. "If that were true, you wouldn't have been in the hands of slave traders, would you?"

"And whose fault was that?" Obi-Wan's voice rose in volume, his hands tightening into fists at his side.

"Mine," Jinn said succinctly. His admission caught Obi-Wan by surprise.

"Yeah, well." Obi-Wan grabbed his shirt and pulled it on with quick, harsh movements. "Don't do me any more favors. I barely survived the last one."

"That's my point, Obi-Wan." Jinn stepped closer to the younger man. "Let me show you some defensive maneuvers. That way, if you ever find yourself in a bad spot, you'll do more than just barely survive."

Obi-Wan gazed into the taller man's impossibly deep blue eyes for a long moment. At last, he nodded and stripped his shirt off, discarding it, turning to toss it away. He felt Jinn's gaze fall on his scarred back, could almost feel the other's pity, and turned back quickly to face him before he could see any more. The tension in his gut escalated, though it was not fear motivating it. He found an odd anticipation racing through him at the thought of Jinn's hands on his body. He drew a deep breath, trying to settle himself.

"Now, the most important thing in terms of self-defense is to not become a victim in the first place," Jinn said, his voice pitched low.

"Oh, is that all?" Obi-Wan asked sarcastically.

With lightning speed, Jinn crossed the distance between them, wrapping one strong forearm around Obi-Wan's throat as he slipped behind him. With absurd ease, the Jedi managed to subdue Obi-Wan's struggles. He tightened the hold over the younger man's throat, slowly cutting off his air supply. Only when Obi-Wan's vision began to gray out, did he ease up and release him.

"Now, what did you do wrong?" Jinn asked as he moved away.

Obi-Wan bent over, one hand massaging his neck as he gasped for air. "Besides agree to this in the first place? Nothing!"

"Wrong," Jinn disagreed. "You let down your guard. You must be alert, prepared for anything. Even with someone you trust."

"Like you?" Obi-Wan laughed. "Don't flatter yourself, Jinn. I don't trust you and I never will."

Jinn ignored Obi-Wan's caustic remark. "Let's go over some basic principles. First, and foremost, be aware of your surroundings. When you enter an area that is unfamiliar, take a moment to note all avenues of escape."

"Escape?" Obi-Wan scoffed. "I thought you Jedi loved to fight."

"I'm sure you remember, from your training as an Initiate, that fighting is always the last resort. Negotiation to defuse a tense situation is preferable, followed by retreat if negotiations fail."

"And, then you whip out your lightsaber, right?" Obi-Wan said, warming to the discussion in spite of himself.

"Yes, but you will not have a lightsaber. So you must be ready to defend yourself in other ways." Jinn stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "I'm going to show you some typical forms of physical attack and moves to counter them. First, I want to assess how you deal with a headlock."

Obi-Wan tensed and took a step backward. Jinn froze, gazing deeply into his eyes.

"I know you don't feel you can trust me. But, I promise you, I would never knowingly hurt you." His voice was soft and gentle.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then nodded. "Okay, I'm ready."

Jinn slipped his right arm around Obi-Wan's neck, forcing him to bend backwards at the waist. He used his left hand to secure his wrist, making it nearly impossible for Obi-Wan to get air. "Now, how you would get out of this? Remember, you must stay calm. Focus."

The former slave knew, from their previous encounters, that Jinn was much stronger and more physically fit than he; it would be pointless to struggle against him. Instead, Obi-Wan used a method that had worked well in the past. He reached down between the Jedi Master's legs and grabbed a generous handful of cock, giving it a threatening twist. "Let me go, or I'll rip it off and shove it down your fucking throat."

Jinn seemed frozen for a moment before he slowly released his hold on Obi-Wan's throat. He spread his hands wide with a rueful chuckle. "I give up."

Obi-Wan turned to face him, tightening his grip. "See? I can defend myself," he said silkily. Then, his eyes widened as he felt the flesh in his hand begin to harden noticeably. "Well, that's the first time I've ever gotten that reaction."

Jinn pushed at his hand, turning his back on Obi-Wan when the younger man released him. He cleared his throat. "Very effective."

Obi-Wan smirked knowingly when the Jedi finally faced him. "It's never missed yet."

"But what do you do if your attacker is from a non-humanoid species? Or female?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's never happened."

"That doesn't mean it won't. Now, you be the aggressor this time." Jinn gestured with one hand, calling Obi-Wan forward. The young man obliged him. In the next moment, he found himself flat on his back, struggling for air, the Jedi Master kneeling beside him.

"How --- how did you do that?" he panted.

"I'll show you," Jinn answered, rising and offering Obi-Wan his hand. After a brief moment's hesitation, Obi-Wan took the offered hand and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.

"The most common reaction when someone grabs you in a headlock is to try to back out of your attacker's grasp. This rarely works. Instead, you should counter it in this way." Jinn bent slightly so that Obi-Wan could take him in a headlock again. "First, turn your body so you are perpendicular to your attacker. Your cheek should rest against his stomach, like this."

Jinn demonstrated, his bristly cheek brushing Obi-Wan's bare midriff. "Place one foot behind the leg closest to you, so he cannot back away. Then, reach across and grab your attacker behind his opposite knee. Simultaneously, slip your other hand over your opponent's shoulder and place your palm under his chin."

Obi-Wan tried to focus his mind on the Jedi's instructions, but he was distracted by the warmth of the other man's breath caressing the sensitive skin of his stomach. He had a brief image of Qui-Gon Jinn, on his knees before him, servicing him with his mouth.

"Timing is critical in the next move," Jinn continued, apparently unaware of Obi-Wan's lustful thoughts. "At the same time, you must press up under your opponent's chin, jerk his knee with your hand, and pull your supporting foot away so that he falls to his back, like so."

He demonstrated the movements in slow motion, gently lowering Obi-Wan to the floor and dropping to his knees beside him. "Usually this will be sufficient to break your attacker's grasp. If it is not, make a fist and bring it down sharply on his exposed throat."

"Or, I can grab his genitals and use the threat method, right?" Obi-Wan chuckled.

"Right." Jinn gave him a half smile. "Now, you try it."

The two climbed to their feet and traded positions. Obi-Wan worked through the moves until they flowed one from another. Jinn made him practice escape from both sides. At last, when Obi-Wan was slick with sweat and panting, he called a halt to their session.

"Take a break," the Jedi Master instructed, tossing Obi-Wan's shirt to him. "We'll work on it again later."

Obi-Wan bent to retrieve his boots as Jinn headed for the cockpit. He was startled a moment later, when a strong arm closed tightly around his neck. But he did not panic.

The Jedi Master's grip was fierce. Clearly, he intended to give Obi-Wan no advantage. This was a true test. With surprising speed and agility, Obi-Wan grabbed Jinn's leg, slipped his other hand up under the taller man's chin, and slammed him decisively to the floor. Jinn's hold on him weakened. It was just enough for Obi-Wan to break free.

He grabbed the other's wrists and pinned them over his head, moving to straddle his hips. "Hah! I got you, you son of a nerf herder!"

Jinn relaxed under him, a smile playing about his lips. "Indeed, it would seem so."

Obi-Wan maintained his advantage as, panting, he felt a triumphant smile break forth. "And, I didn't even have to use my genital threat on you."

"Lucky me," Jinn chuckled.

Jinn's easy laughter was infectious. Obi-Wan felt an odd sense of camaraderie as his soft laughter filled the air. It gradually died away, but it left him feeling much more at ease with the older man.

Whether it was the lingering heat of battle firing his blood, or the intimacy of their physical contact, Obi-Wan could not say. But, suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to kiss the man lying beneath him. He leaned down and tentatively pressed his mouth to the lips of the Jedi Master.

Beneath him, Jinn tensed for a long moment. Obi-Wan felt awkward as he kissed the man, but at the same time, he felt totally exhilarated. He released his grip on the other man's wrists and tangled his fingers in the Jedi's long, silvered hair. Jinn relaxed, opening his mouth in silent invitation. Obi-Wan teased at his lower lip with his agile tongue, flicking it against the silky flesh, savoring the taste of him.

He felt strong arms encircle him, one hand stroking down his bare back and coming to rest upon the upper slopes of his buttocks. As Obi-Wan deepened his kiss, exploring Jinn's mouth thoroughly, the Jedi uttered a deep throated, lusty groan. Desire exploded in Obi-Wan's body. He hissed when, suddenly, Jinn grabbed him by the biceps and pushed him away.

"I can't," the older man uttered thickly.

"But ---" Obi-Wan protested.

"Anakin," Jinn continued. "He's coming."

Obi-Wan rolled off the other man quickly, moving to retrieve his boots as the young Padawan entered the main cabin. He was rubbing his eyes with the back of one hand.

"Master?" the boy said, apparently unconcerned that the two men were lying on the hard deck.

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Is it time for breakfast yet? I'm starved."

Jinn smiled. "Yes, Padawan. Why don't you check the kitchen and see what you'd like. I'll be there in a moment." He turned back to Obi-Wan, his face set into a mask of calm serenity as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

How does he do that? Obi-Wan wondered. I feel like I'm about ready to jump out of my skin. He pushed himself to his feet. "I think I'll take a shower," he muttered. He could feel Jinn's eyes follow him as he headed for the 'fresher.

Qui-Gon strode down the passageway, intent upon seeing if Obi-Wan was finished with his shower. Anakin was already eating, and the Jedi Master did not want the meal to get cold. His steps slowed when he reached the 'fresher. The door was open. Obi-Wan, naked except for a towel wrapped around his lean hips, his hair dripping, was bending over the sink.

His hair was still damp, making it look even more scraggly than usual, and the unhealthy pallor of his skin bore mute testimony to the harsh conditions he had been forced to endure, as did the too thin limbs and washboard ribs. His face wasn't visible, buried in his hands as it was, and his slumped shoulders spoke wordlessly of his mental state.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon said quietly, not wishing to startle the young man. He looked up, his eyes meeting Qui-Gon's in the mirror. A stricken look marred his face. Qui-Gon frowned, fearing that he might have injured or frightened Obi-Wan, either during their training session or with what had nearly happened afterward. "What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again with a shake of his head, muttering, "Nothing."

Qui-Gon stepped into the 'fresher and, taking Obi-Wan by the arm, encouraged the younger man to face him.

"What is it?" Qui-Gon gentled his tone even more, his eyes searching Obi-Wan's face for some clue to his distress.

"You wouldn't understand," he replied hoarsely, his gaze focused upon a fold in Qui-Gon's tunic.

The older man lifted one hand to Obi-Wan's chin, forcing him to make eye contact. "Try me."

Obi-Wan studied him for several long moments, his stormy eyes filled with uncertainty. At last, he seemed to steel himself. With a quiet sigh, he blurted out, "My back."

Qui-Gon's eyes stole to the reflection in the mirror. Several scars criss-crossed the young man's pale flesh. He had noticed them before, but they were easier to see here in the harsh light of the 'fresher than they had been earlier. Some were clearly fading; others looked angry and red, raised still, though it had been days since Qui-Gon had rescued him and the beatings had ceased. One particularly nasty scar ran from Obi-Wan's right shoulder down across to his left hip and disappeared beneath the roll of the towel. It would more than likely always be visible.

"Our scars serve as a roadmap of our lives. There is no reason to feel shame," the Jedi reassured him.

"Maybe not for you," Obi-Wan said emphatically. "But with scars like this, I'll never be able to get into a reputable house. Who would want to pay good money for a whore who's been so badly beaten?" Obi-Wan turned slightly, looking at his reflection over his shoulder.

"What?" Qui-Gon asked, startled at the young man's words. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to end up on the lower levels," Obi-Wan said to his reflection, his eyes unfocused as he contemplated his fate. "Servicing anyone with a few credits. Probably getting beat up. After all, who cares if a cheap whore gets knocked around a bit?"

Qui-Gon stepped closer, his large hands grasping Obi-Wan's shoulders as he gave him a firm shake.

"You will not sell yourself on the streets, do you hear me?" he ordered forcefully. "I absolutely forbid it."

"Who are you to forbid anything I do?" Obi-Wan demanded, his green eyes meeting Qui-Gon's and flashing angrily.

"I'm responsible for you, just as I'm responsible for my Padawan. You will not sell yourself on the streets!"

"Fine," the former slave said. "Then fuck me."

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise. "W-what?" he stammered, feeling his cock immediately begin to firm.

"Fuck me," Obi-Wan repeated. "Any of the better houses would take me if I were a Jedi Master's whore."

Qui-Gon released him abruptly and stepped back. "No," he said, not trusting his voice with more.

"Why not?" the young man demanded.

"Because it wouldn't be right."

"You seemed ready enough a few minutes ago!" Obi-Wan pointed out. "If Anakin hadn't come in, you would have taken me there and then!"

Qui-Gon sighed, unable to deny what had almost happened, yet ashamed at his lack of control. "If it means so much to you, why don't you just claim that it happened?"

"I couldn't." The young man looked uneasy, shuffling his feet. "It wouldn't be the truth."

The simplicity of Obi-Wan's statement and the integrity it revealed surprised Qui-Gon. Even with all he had been forced to endure, Obi-Wan, it seemed, maintained a core of decency. The Jedi Master felt his admiration for the former slave deepen. It peaked his curiosity and made him wonder what else lay hidden beneath Obi-Wan's hardened exterior.

Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's eyes through lowered lashes, then he looked the older man up and down slowly, and leered. "Of course, we could make it the truth," he said, moving in closer, pressing his body sensuously against the Jedi's.

Unable to answer, Qui-Gon turned away and headed back to the cockpit. He had barely settled into the pilot's chair, however, when Obi-Wan entered, his hips swaying in an exaggerated and sensuous swagger. The young man trailed one finger up Qui-Gon's chest, then swung a leg across him, straddling his lap and grinding his rock-hard member against the bulge in Qui-Gon's leggings.

Obi-Wan's smile sent his blood pressure through the roof. "You want it, too," the young man said in a soft, sexy voice. "I know you do."

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. "What I want is of no consequence."

Green eyes twinkled as the slender eyebrows rose. "So, you admit it!"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and tried to center himself, a nearly impossible task with a lap full of squirming, writhing Obi-Wan. It became even more difficult a moment later, when he felt hot breath on the side of his neck. The tip of a tongue traced his ear for a moment before teeth closed on the sensitive skin just below it.

"No!" Qui-Gon shouted. He caught the narrow shoulders and shoved Obi-Wan to his feet, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

The captivating green eyes held his for a moment, then began a long, slow sweep down the length of his body. They stopped at the obvious bulge at his groin, then rose slowly under heavy lashes to meet Qui-Gon's gaze once again. Moistening his lips, Obi-Wan sank to his knees, pushing Qui-Gon's legs apart to make room.

"I'll make it good for you," the young man said in a husky voice that turned Qui-Gon's insides to water. The Jedi watched, helpless to resist, as Obi-Wan lowered his head.

The first touch of that hot mouth as it closed over his fabric-covered erection nearly made him lose control. He threw his head back, breathing heavily, his hands clinching uncontrollably on the arms of his chair. He was rendered speechless with need, with the sudden, nearly irresistible desire to just thrust upward into that warm haven.

It took him several moments to find his voice. Calling on all his control and willing his arousal away, he shoved Obi-Wan away and into the control console. "No."

Obi-Wan leaned forward, hand once again finding Qui-Gon crotch, though he obviously didn't find what he expected. "What's the matter Jedi?," he growled, the sound low and deep and entirely dangerous. "Can't you keep it hard long enough to get off? Is that why you won't fuck me?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, sucking in a quick breath, then looked up at Obi-Wan sternly. "Take your hand off me. This in inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" Obi scoffed. "I'm a fucking bed slave! It's . . . my . . . job!"

"And I am a Jedi Master," he shouted back. "I won't do this!"

"Why not?" the young man demanded angrily. "It's just sex!"

Qui-Gon got to his feet somewhat unsteadily. "But it wouldn't be just sex to me," he said. He watched as the statement, and its implications, made Obi-Wan's jaw drop. He was still standing there, open-mouthed, when Anakin's voice from the doorway made them both turn.

"What are you two fighting about now?" the Padawan demanded.

"Nothing!" both men snapped at him in unison.

Anakin blinked and took a startled step back, then asked a bit more respectfully, "Then, why were you yelling?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Don't you have some studying to do?" he asked the boy. He turned to glare at Obi-Wan. "And, you need to go and eat."

Obi-Wan stiffened and stormed out of the cockpit, pushing past Anakin, who turned to meet Qui-Gon's eyes.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon waved him off. "Just go, Padawan," he told the boy.

Anakin sighed deeply. "Yes, Master," he said, though his jaw was tightly set. He turned without another word and left, leaving Qui-Gon alone. The Jedi Master sank back into his chair and closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands.

Force! he thought, drawing an unsteady breath. His hands dropped to his lap and clinched into tight fists. He desperately tried to push away the memory of the sinuous young man's hard cock rubbing against his own. Then, Master Yoda's words came back to him.

"Until then," the small Master had said, "Do with him as you see fit."

"Well, I'm quite sure, old man," he told himself, "that he didn't mean fuck him into unconsciousness." Resolutely, he turned his attention to the ship's instruments, determined to put Obi-Wan from his mind.

Obi-Wan dropped onto his bed, frustrated and angry. Qui-Gon Jinn had to be the most infuriating person he'd ever met. He slammed a fist into his mattress, half wishing it were the Jedi's face, then turned at a sound from the door.

Anakin stood there, arms crossed, glaring at him.

Obi-Wan sighed. He knew the boy was fiercely protective of his Master and held Obi-Wan responsible for all the arguments of late. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. He owed the boy an explanation for this most recent one.

"Your Master," he said, feeling his face twist into a mask of consternation, "is the most hardheaded, contrary, opinionated, stubborn assh-" He broke off, catching himself just in time. "---man I've ever met!" he finished somewhat lamely.

Anakin didn't blink. "He can be," he said. His voice was soft but full of feeling. He turned on his heel and headed for the door. "But, I'm glad he is," he said over his shoulder. "I wouldn't be here if he wasn't." He hesitated briefly in the doorway. "And neither would you."

Obi-Wan stepped out of his room, stretching. The book Jinn lent him had been dreadfully boring. That, combined with the gentle hum of the ship's engines, had lulled him into a deep state of relaxation. Now, several hours later, he was well rested but stiff and sore from his workout with the Jedi. As he made his way down the short corridor to the main cabin, he debated whether or not to take a shower before he scrounged for something to eat. He made his way down the short corridor to the main cabin.

Anakin was stretched out on the floor, his chin was propped on the heel of his hand as he read from one of the datapads scattered about him.

Nearby, on the far end of the couch, sat Jinn. His eyes were closed, his head leaning against the sofa's back support, and his breathing was slow and rhythmic. As Obi-Wan watched, the stylus he had been holding slipped from his limp fingers and fell to the floor.

Obi-Wan had wondered how long the Jedi would last. He knew Jinn hadn't slept well while they were on Devinnar 3. Every time the young man made a midnight raid on the food stores, Jinn was awake, poring over datapads or reading some book or lost in meditation. He hadn't slept at all since the Sith showed up two nights ago. And if what Anakin said was true, he had been shielding all three of them from the Sith's influence while they traveled. Now, it appeared his reserves were exhausted.

Obi-Wan tapped Anakin with his toe to draw his attention. When the boy turned an inquiring expression his way, Obi-Wan said softly, "Go wake up your Master and tell him he needs to go to bed."

"He's really tired," the boy said.

Obi-Wan nodded, then leaned over and retrieved the stylus. Only then did he notice the sketch pad in the Jedi's lap. "I didn't know he could draw."

"Oh, yes," Anakin replied, pushing himself up to his knees. "He's really good, too. But he only draws when he's having trouble meditating. He says it allows him to explore his feelings about the subject that's filling his thoughts."

The boy rose and moved to his Master's side. He worked the pad out of Jinn's grip, careful not to awaken him, then began flipping through the leaves until he found the page he was seeking. He sat down on the other arm of the couch and held it up to Obi-Wan. "This one's my favorite. Master Qui-Gon drew that just a few days after I became his Padawan."

The boy in the sketch fairly glowed. His eyes glistened as he smiled happily. His hair was cropped close and the small stub of a Padawan's braid showed beneath his right ear.

Obi-Wan took the pad from the boy, fascinated. He turned the pages slowly, studying the drawings with care. There were renderings of Anakin in many poses - studying, sleeping, climbing a tree. There was even one of the boy emerging from a pool of water, a look of utter delight upon his face. In spite of himself, Obi-Wan felt a bit of awe that these magnificent creations were the work of Jinn. He shook his head ruefully.

Amazing, he thought, You think you know someone, then you get a surprise like this. He continued thumbing through the sketch pad, stopping when he found one with a different subject entirely.

Several sketches filled the page, all of them beautiful and quite detailed. And all were of Obi-Wan. Most telling was the one in the bottom left corner. It looked unfinished compared to the others, but was quite recognizable. It, too, was a drawing of Obi-Wan, but this time he was clad in the traditional attire of a Jedi Padawan. His hair was spiked and the braid of his apprenticeship reached nearly to his waist.

This is what I would have looked like if Jinn had taken me as his apprentice, he mused.

"Well, I better wake him up," Anakin said, breaking Obi-Wan's train of thought. "He's gonna get a stiff neck if he sleeps in that position for very long." Anakin placed a hand on the older man's arm and shook it gently. "Master."

The Jedi blinked to instant alertness. "What's wrong?" he asked, straightening in his chair. He looked from Anakin to Obi-Wan, then blanched when he saw the drawing pad in the young man's hands. Obi-Wan met the Jedi's gaze as he silently handed him the pad. Curiously, Jinn looked relieved when he made no comment about the sketches.

"Master, you've got to get some sleep," Anakin ordered firmly. "Come on, I'll help you change."

"That won't be necessary, Padawan," the Jedi assured him, smoothing down his crumpled tunic with one hand.

"Don't be stubborn, Jinn," Obi-Wan interjected. "You're exhausted. You can barely keep your eyes open."

"Jedi are trained to go without sleep if the need arises," Jinn argued.

"Spare me the details of your Jedi superiority. Just go to bed."

"I can't." Jinn rose abruptly, closing his drawing pad and stashing it in the side cabinet. "If I fall asleep, I can't shield you."

"News flash! You were asleep a minute ago and nothing bad happened to me," Obi-Wan jibed.

"Yes, and we're fortunate that it didn't. I apologize for falling asleep. It won't happen again."

"Don't be an idiot!" Obi-Wan told him, though part of him wondered why he even cared. "You can't stay awake the whole trip! Isn't there someway you can sleep and still feel like you're protecting me?"

Jinn tightened his lips, looking everywhere except at Obi-Wan. "Only if we were in very close proximity to one another. In that event, my natural shielding would protect you."

Obi-Wan began to chuckle. "So, let me get this straight," he said. "The only way you're going to get any rest is if -"

"You sleep with me," Jinn finished, a faint blush staining his cheekbones.

Obi-Wan tipped his head forward and gazed at the Jedi through lowered lashes. "That would guarantee you wouldn't get any sleep, wouldn't it?" Obi-Wan said provocatively. He let his gaze drop for an instant to Jinn's crotch, noticing the obvious bulge there, and smiled, enjoying the Jedi's discomfort.

"What do you mean by that?" Anakin asked.

The former slave waved off the boy's question. "I'll explain later."

The boy crossed his arms over his chest, a frown marring his face. "Yeah, right, just like Master Qui-Gon always explains things later." The two men ignored him.

"If I agree to sleep with you, will you go to bed?" Obi-Wan asked the older man, feeling a bit guilty as he took in the other's obvious fatigue. Even if he didn't buy into the Force shielding stuff, it was obvious that Jinn was exhausted. Though Obi-Wan didn't share his beliefs, he had begun to respect the Jedi's right to hold them.

"Anakin, lay out your bedroll on the floor by Obi-Wan's bed. I want both of you close by." Jinn avoided Obi-Wan's gaze as he went to the 'fresher and closed the door.

"I guess that means yes," the young man said to the closed door. He started toward his cabin, but Anakin moved to block him.

"Tell me what you meant, Obi-Wan."

"Ask me again about ten years from now," Obi-Wan watched with a slight smile as Anakin headed for his room, frowning and muttering something under his breath. Obi-Wan chuckled softly and followed him. He stopped, however, as he passed the 'fresher, hearing a soft grunt from inside. He leaned closer and listened, feeling his own interest stir as he realized what the older man was doing behind the closed door.

Oh, yeah, he thought with a touch of wicked satisfaction. He is definitely jerking off. Though the Jedi was being very quiet about it, the sounds were obvious to anyone who had ever heard it --- or done it --- before. He waited until he heard the long, low groan at the end before hurrying to bed. Quickly, he shed his tunic and slipped under the covers. He scooted close to the wall. The bunk was plenty large enough for a single man, but with two of them sleeping there, it was going to be a bit crowded.

He heard Jinn approaching, and turned to watch the door. He held the blue eyes challengingly when they rose to meet his, letting a knowing smile spread over his face.

"I hope you washed your hands," he said.

The Jedi blinked, the faintest hint of color rising into his cheeks. Then, the man resolutely ignored him and began to undress.

Obi-Wan rolled over to face the wall and tried to ignore him, but his senses were tuned to the Jedi's presence. He listened to sound of clothing being removed. First one boot, then the other. Now, utility belt and sash. The Jedi was nothing if not meticulous. He could hear the sounds of tunics being shed and folded neatly.

If he takes off his leggings --- Obi-Wan thought. A shiver raced over him. In an ideal world, he would have claimed it was one of revulsion. But, in this universe, it was pure, unadulterated lust.

He heard Anakin arrive, listened as the boy spread out his bedroll.

"Good night," the boy said, his voice already muffled by the covers.

"Good night, Padawan," the Jedi replied, then he slipped into bed beside Obi-Wan. He turned on his side so that the two men lay back to back. "Good night, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan did not risk a reply. He was certain his voice would betray him.

The strident clash of lightsabers. The sound of heavy breathing. A figure cloaked in shadow. And Jinn, facing him, his lightsaber held aloft. A quick whirl, a glancing blow to the forehead, a sudden thrusting move by the shadowed one, then silence. A wave of horror washed over Obi-Wan. Jinn's eyes, impossibly blue, widened in pained surprise and then faded as the spark of life left his body, driven out by the ruby red blade buried in his chest.

"Noooo!" Obi-Wan screamed in his dream, his distress bringing him to wakefulness. He sat up quickly, the blanket falling away from his bare chest. For a long moment, the agony of the dream lingered in his mind. He shifted in the bed to look at the man lying on his back beside him, lost in sleep. Obi-Wan's restlessness had not disturbed him, a mute testimony to the Jedi's fatigue.

In an attempt to satisfy his overactive imagination, Obi-Wan reached up and slowly pulled the covers off the older man's chest. The ship's lights were on their lowest setting, and they threw a faint yellow cast onto the pale flesh of Jinn's upper torso. A quick glance towards the Jedi's face assured him the man still slept. Obi-Wan reached out to softly trace the hollow over the man's sternum, satisfying himself that Jinn was whole, uninjured. He gasped in surprise when, suddenly, the Jedi captured his wayward hand in a tight grip. He looked up to see those indigo eyes studying him.

"What are you doing?" Jinn asked him, his voice pitched low so as not to disturb Anakin, sleeping on the pallet at their bedside.

"I - " Obi-Wan stopped himself, unable to offer a true explanation and unwilling to make one up.

Jinn pushed himself up onto his elbow, not releasing Obi-Wan's wrist. His callused thumb pressed over the younger man's pulse point for a long moment before softly stroking the sensitive flesh. "Did you hear the voice again?"

"No," Obi-Wan shook his head. "Just dreaming, I think."

"About what?" Jinn queried softly.

"I can't really remember," Obi-Wan replied truthfully, his eyes moving down lingeringly over Jinn's bared chest.

The Jedi loosened his grip on Obi-Wan's wrist, moving his hand down to uncurl the fingers which had tightened into a fist when Jinn surprised him. He coaxed the digits apart, then pressed the younger man's palm against the slope of his pectoral muscle. Obi-Wan could feel the strong, steady beat of the other man's heart. It calmed and soothed him in a way he couldn't explain.

The Jedi held his hand over Obi-Wan's for a long moment, then slowly smoothed his palm up Obi-Wan's arm to his shoulder. Almost of their own accord, Obi-Wan's fingers began to trace the muscles of the other man's body, following the lines that delineated his hard stomach, tracing the corded flesh with the lightest of touches. His exploration led him to the darkened nub of Jinn's nipple. Obi-Wan looked up at the man's face as he whispered a touch across it. He was gratified to hear Jinn's quick inhalation as the nipple hardened immediately. It encouraged him to be bolder.

Obi-Wan leaned down and flicked it with the tip of his tongue. He felt the muscles in Jinn's torso contract beneath his hand as the man struggled to maintain his silence. Obi-Wan nibbled at him, then took his nipple between his lips and sucked hard. The smallest of groans escaped the Jedi. It sent a lightning bolt of white-hot desire straight to the younger man's groin.

He studied the man's face. The high forehead, the strong, bearded jaw line, the crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken and improperly set - but it was the eyes that drew him the most. The most intense shade of deep blue he had could have imagined, they seemed to hold him captive, reading him down to his very soul. He forced his gaze lower, to the soft lips, moistened as he watched by the barest tip of a pink tongue. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to taste those lips.

He leaned down across Jinn's chest and captured his mouth in a searing, mind-blowing kiss. The Jedi answered in the same fashion, his hands tangling in Obi-Wan's hair and pulling him closer. Tongues met and dueled as the kiss deepened. Only when anoxia threatened did the younger man pull away. He pushed the covers off the Jedi, hungry for more, and moved to straddle him, bringing his hard cock into intimate contact with Jinn's powerful erection, the thin material of their sleep pants the only barrier separating them.

Obi-Wan choked back a groan as Jinn arched up against him. His arousal deepened when large hands slipped around his hips and drew him forward. He placed his hands on either side of the Jedi's head and began to rock himself hungrily against that hardness. His breathing grew shallower as he panted, feeling his passion building. Jinn met him, thrust for thrust, his hands clasping Obi-Wan's buttocks possessively. The Jedi's eyes darkened as the sensual wave threatened to overtake them both.

"Master?"

The two men froze, stilling their breathing. After a moment, Jinn lifted his head from his pillow and turned to reply, "Yes, Anakin?"

"Is it okay if I go sleep in my own cabin while you and Obi are having sex?" the youthful voice said from the pallet on the floor.

Jinn looked back at Obi-Wan, regret and embarrassment clearly written upon his face as he dropped his head back to the pillow. "Obi-Wan and I are not having sex."

The younger man sighed and dropped his forehead onto the Jedi's chest. Raging lust warred with his sense of decency. Reluctantly, he rolled off of Jinn, coming to rest beside him. He covered his face with his arm, trying desperately to get control of his body's reaction. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jinn wave a dismissive hand at the boy.

"Go back to sleep, Anakin," Jinn intoned softly.

When the boy's breathing evened out with sleep, Jinn turned on his side, pushing himself up on his elbow. "Obi-Wan, I'm -"

"Forget it," the younger man cut him off, not moving his arm away from his eyes. "You should get some rest. You haven't slept in a long time."

"That was unfair of me. I want to apologize," Jinn tried again.

"I said forget it!" Obi-Wan repeated more forcefully, unsure if the Jedi was apologizing for what had nearly happened, or for the fact that it hadn't. He decided it didn't matter. He turned his back on the other man, punching his pillow a few times. He could feel the Jedi's eyes boring into him, but he resolutely closed his eyes and willed sleep to come.

Yoda followed the lead of the Force, mentally floating on its currents, making no attempt to guide his own course. The most significant revelations of the Force often occurred when the ancient master opened himself up to it completely.

He found himself, as before, in the small stone dwelling. Again, a man crouched before the modest fire burning on the hearth. But this time, the man was much younger. His russet locks looked dry and unhealthy. The flames cast a sickly pallor on the young man's face. He was dressed in an oversized tunic and a pair of dirty green leggings. Around his neck, he wore a Force-inhibiting collar.

Yoda moved a bit closer. The young man turned to him, clearly not surprised to see the wizened little being. His face was contorted in abject misery and fear. In a tortured voice, he pleaded with the Jedi Master, "Help me!"

"Help you, I will, if I can," Yoda nodded. "What troubles you?"

"I'm afraid!" he admitted.

"What fear you?"

"Of losing him," the young man pointed behind Yoda. The Jedi Master turned, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. His eyes flew wide as he spied another figure in the room. It was a human male, but this one was familiar. It looked like Qui-Gon Jinn. But it was not the Qui-Gon that Yoda had watched grow into manhood. This Qui-Gon had no corporeal form. He was manifested in a cool, blue, glimmering light, like one whose essence had gone into the Force.

After a moment, Yoda found his voice. "Important, Qui-Gon Jinn is to you?"

"Just as the fate of the universe rests with me, my fate rests with him," the young man explained cryptically. "For me, he is life itself. I cannot lose him."

Anakin rummaged through a storage cabinet, tossing items out left and right. A seeker droid, useful for practicing combat moves with a lightsaber, bounced and rolled across the floor. It came to rest against Obi-Wan's foot. Exercise cords, small weights, and various other items were added to the growing pile beside the boy.

"Wizard!" Anakin exclaimed, his head buried deep in the compartment. He backed out and held up a small, stringed musical instrument. "Look, Obi-Wan! What is it?"

"A Xenetian lute," the young man said. He took the proffered instrument, his thumb stroking down across its strings. He and Anakin both winced at the discordant noise. It was badly out of tune. Obi-Wan began adjusting the tension pins, periodically giving it another strum to test his progress. After a bit, he began to play softly, his fingers searching clumsily for the chords. Anakin sat motionless at his feet.

"Who taught you to play?" Qui-Gon asked from his seat across the small room, his datapad forgotten in his lap.

"A Brisco that belonged to my first owner," Obi-Wan replied, not looking up. His fingers moved more fluidly now, plucking out the notes.

"Do you know any songs?" Anakin said in a hopeful tone.

Obi-Wan paused for a moment, his eyes unfocused as he searched his memory. At last, he began to play. After a few bars, his voice joined in, a warm tenor smoky with feeling.

"We live for the day
When we can walk beneath the stars
And breathe the night air,
As free men.
"We live for the day
When we can sow our fields
And reap the bounty of the land
As free men.
"We live for the day
When we are able to love
And have that love returned,
Because we are free men."

With a few quiet strums, he finished his song. He sat looking at the lute, an expression of torment on his face.

"Where is he now?" Anakin asked him. "The Brisco, I mean

"He's dead," Obi-Wan told him woodenly. "He tried to protect me and he died for it."

"What happened?"

Obi-Wan's fingers tightened around the neck of the instrument. "When our owner died, the family sent us to the slave market. The guards there took a liking to me. When they came for me, he fought them."

"And they killed him?" Anakin's voice was filled with dismay.

"They stabbed him and left him to bleed to death while they raped me." Obi-Wan closed his eyes as the memory threatened to overwhelm him. He was startled to feel a hand touching his cheek.

Jinn, silent as a wraith, had crossed the room. He crouched before Obi-Wan, one hand against his face. His dark blue eyes glowed with sympathy and understanding. As his thumb caressed Obi-Wan's cheekbone, he whispered a heartfelt, "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan sighed unsteadily, thoroughly surprised that he did not mind the Jedi's touch. Instead, he leaned into it for a moment, before silently nodding his thanks.

Jinn rose, but Obi-Wan reached out to grab his wrist, not allowing him to leave. When he looked down at him, Obi-Wan held up the lute. "May I keep this?"

Jinn nodded. "Of course." Obi-Wan gazed up at him for a long moment before releasing him.

After another intensive round of hand-to-hand combat training, Qui-Gon wiped his face and bare chest with a towel. Obi-Wan, bent over with his hands on his knees, was drenched in sweat. He gasped desperately for air for a few minutes before his breathing eased a bit.

Qui-Gon picked up a bottle of water from the table, took a swig, then offered the bottle to Obi-Wan. The younger man accepted it gratefully.

"Your skills are improving," Qui-Gon praised the other man's progress. "You have an innate ability to anticipate your opponent's moves. It will give you an advantage."

"Thanks," Obi-Wan panted, before taking a long gulp of water. He held out his hand, silently asking for Qui-Gon's towel. The older man handed it to him, and then went to rummage through the pile of discarded clothing in the corner until he found his lightsaber. He hefted it in his hand thoughtfully, then rose and moved to Obi-Wan's side.

"Here," he said, extending the weapon. "Let's see how much you remember from your Initiate days. Try it out."

Obi-Wan accepted the lightsaber a bit tentatively, studying the detail work on the black and silver hilt. It was a bit long for him, balanced for the older man.

"Dial it down to training level and turn it on," Qui-Gon encouraged him. After a brief moment, Obi-Wan did so.

The young man's eyes glistened in appreciation of the beauty of the blade. He swung it through the air, searching for the weapon's balance point, instinctively adjusting his grip. His movements became more confident, his cutting strokes more fluid. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth. Qui-Gon watched, all but forgotten.

Beautiful, the Jedi Master thought, admiring the lines of Obi-Wan's body as he seemed to dance with the weapon. Warmth blossomed in his chest at the sight of that wistful smile.

"I always wanted one of these," Obi-Wan admitted quietly. "I remember, when I was a boy, my friends and I tried to decide what color our blades would be when we finally built our own lightsabers. We pored over the reference materials in the Archive, memorizing the schematics. I can't tell you the number of lightsabers I've constructed in my mind, especially late at night in the slave pens when I couldn't sleep."

Qui-Gon remained silent, unwilling to break the web of trust that was being woven between them.

"I always imagined mine would be blue." Obi-Wan continued experimenting with the weapon. He twirled it by his side, his wrist rolling to bring the weapon into a two-handed ready position. "Which is odd because I've never really liked the color blue."

His eyes flickered over the Jedi's face, pausing for a long gaze into his eyes. "Until now, that is."

Qui-Gon offered him a brief smile and an acknowledging tilt of the head.

"So, what am I doing with this thing?" the former slave asked, dropping the blade down in front of him at a forty-five degree angle.

"I want to demonstrate some techniques for disarming your opponent if he is armed with a lightsaber," Qui-Gon replied, noting the tension that came into the young man's shoulders at his words. He felt a tinge of regret as Obi-Wan's face shuttered closed, an icy wall of reserve coming between them.

"Only Jedi use lightsabers. Are you saying the Jedi are a threat to me?"

"Not the Jedi. The Sith," Qui-Gon countered evenly. "Now, try to hit me."

Obi-Wan looked down at the weapon doubtfully. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"It's set on training mode," Qui-Gon assured him. "You can't hurt me. Much."

"Oh." A slow smile crept over the young man's face as a devilish twinkle appeared his eyes. "Well, if I can hurt you a little . . . "

"Only if you succeed in hitting me," Qui-Gon rejoined, an answering grin on his face. He took a breath to prepare himself and waited for the attack.

Obi-Wan held the lightsaber in a two-fisted grip, the blade before his face, and began to circle his opponent. Qui-Gon pivoted, keeping a close watch on the young man's eyes.

He knew that, generally, an attacker would give away his intent to strike with a slight squinting of the eyelids. Then, the key was to anticipate the angle of the blow, dodge it and disarm the aggressor. And since Obi-Wan was right-handed, it stood to reason that his first strike would be aimed at Qui-Gon's left side.

Sure enough, a moment later, Obi-Wan attacked in just such a manner. Qui-Gon rotated his torso so that the blade passed harmlessly. He allowed the younger man's momentum to pull him forward. With lightning quick reflexes, the Jedi's hand snaked out to capture Obi-Wan's right wrist, giving it a twist to disarm the young man with ease.

"How did you do that?" Obi-Wan asked incredulously.

unique. You must do what you instinctively feel is right. That way, when the attack comes, you do not consciously think of the steps to evade the blade. You just do it." Qui-Gon smiled as he held out his hand for the lightsaber.

The two worked together for several long minutes practicing the moves. Occasionally, the Jedi would change up his attacks, scoring a few brief touches against Obi-Wan's thighs and buttocks. Each time, Obi-Wan growled in pain, then laughed at having been caught napping. Finally, Qui-Gon handed the weapon back to Obi-Wan. "Now, I want you to attempt to skewer me with the 'saber."

Obi-Wan paled visibly, dropping the blade and backing away. "No."

Qui-Gon picked up the deactivated weapon and held it out to him. "Come on. You won't hurt me."

"I said, no!" Obi-Wan said loudly, shaking his head. "I won't do it!"

Qui-Gon frowned. "Why not?"

The younger man turned away and scooped up the discarded towel from the floor. He wiped his sweaty face and tried to slow his ragged breathing. "Because I dreamed that you were killed. In just that way." His expression was troubled when he turned back to the Jedi Master. "It was the dream I had last night."

Qui-Gon remembered Obi-Wan murmuring something about a bad dream when he woke up during the night. Clearly, it had shaken him. The Jedi decided not to press the issue now. "Perhaps that is enough for today, then."

Obi-Wan nodded, then handed the towel to Qui-Gon. "I'm going to take a shower."

The closer they got to Coruscant, the more nervous Obi-Wan seemed to get. He spent the last hour or so in the co-pilot's chair, staring blank eyed out the viewscreen. By the time they came out of hyperspace and entered the solar system, he was drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair. And, when Qui-Gon dropped their ship down into the early morning traffic patterns, he began chewing on his fingernails.

"Relax," Qui-Gon told him, resisting the urge to put a touch of Force behind the suggestion. "Nothing bad is going to happen."

Stormy green eyes flicked over to meet his. "What is going to happen?" Obi-Wan asked, sounding suddenly very young and insecure.

"We'll land, we'll walk to our quarters, and we'll get you settled in," the Jedi told him. "Nothing worse than that, I assure you."

Obi-Wan gave a jerky nod, his fingers reaching up to touch the collar he wore. "They're not going to try to remove this, are they?"

Ah, Qui-Gon thought. So, that's what's frightening him.

"No one will do anything against your will, Obi-Wan."

The young man drew a deep, somewhat shaky breath and nodded again, slumping further down into his chair as Qui-Gon veered off toward the impressive spires of the Jedi Temple.

"Anakin?" Qui-Gon called. "We'll be landing in a moment. Are you dressed yet?"

"Yes, Master," the boy answered from somewhere near the stern of the ship. "Well, nearly anyway."

"Well, do hurry, unless you plan to walk through the Temple in your pajamas."

"Yes, Master."

A landing platform loomed before them, and Qui-Gon set the ship down with the slightest of bumps. He rose and glanced down at Obi-Wan, who was sitting still and wide-eyed in his chair. "Come, Obi-Wan," he said, extending a hand down for the younger man. "We're home."

A quick, irritated glare was his answer, then the former initiate pushed himself up. "This isn't my home anymore," he snapped. He elbowed past the Jedi and went to stand by the boarding hatch.

"All ready, Master," Anakin said, shuffling out into the common room carrying two travel packs and dragging still another.

"Let me help you with those," Qui-Gon said, reaching to take the two largest ones. He stepped forward to key the hatch, but Obi-Wan beat him to it. The Xenetian lute in one hand, the young man was soon striding down the ramp with a mock show of confidence. He stopped at the bottom, however, so suddenly that Qui-Gon nearly ran him down.

Resisting the urge to grumble, the Jedi Master looked up. Ahead, just stepping out onto the landing platform, was Master Yoda, and - Force help us - Mace, wearing his "don't mess with me" face. Behind them, two burly security officers formed an intimidating rear guard. Qui-Gon immediately felt his anger rising, even as Obi-Wan took an involuntary step backwards, almost stepping on his toes in the process.

"Glad to see you, I am, Obi-Wan," Yoda said, craning his neck to look up at the former slave. "Taken good care of you Qui-Gon has, hmm?"

Obi-Wan flattened his mouth into a thin, tight line and didn't answer. Mace, meanwhile, was glaring down at him like he was something stuck to the bottom of a specimen tray.

"Kenobi, these two are here to escort you to my office." Obi-Wan drew in a hissing breath and stepped back again until he was at Qui-Gon's elbow. "There's some questions we need answers to."

"Any questions you have can wait," Qui-Gon said, moving forward slightly to put himself between Obi-Wan and the guards. His gaze caught Mace's and locked with it, daring him to refuse. "Right now, we're going to our quarters."

Mace narrowed his eyes and frowned. "I really think . . ."

"Of course," Yoda said, cutting the dark-skinned man off. "Weary you are from your journey. Time to settle in, Obi-Wan needs."

Mace's frown deepened. "Yes, of course," he said, though it was obvious he didn't agree. He turned back to Obi-Wan, his eyes boring into the young man. "But we will talk later."

Qui-Gon turned to meet Anakin's eyes. "Why don't you take Obi-Wan on to our quarters?" he suggested. "I will be along in a moment."

"Yes, Master," the boy said, bending down to pick up one of the bags his Master had dropped. Obi-Wan grabbed the other, his gaze flickering nervously from Qui-Gon to Mace and back again. "Come on, Obi. You'll like our quarters. We've got a window and everything."

Qui-Gon felt a surge of pride as Obi-Wan shot a defiant glare at Mace and the security officers. Squaring his shoulders, the young man lifted the last bag and headed purposefully toward the lifts, Anakin at his heels.

Qui-Gon waited until the two were out of earshot before he spoke again. "Mace, what the fuck were you thinking?" he demanded, unconsciously using Obi-Wan's favorite word. "He's intimidated as hell coming back here anyway, and then you confront him with this?" He waved a hand at the two burly guards.

Mace's brow drew together. "There are questions that have to be answered," he said, his tone as threatening as his expression. "Healer Vortrela says that he may be in direct communication with the Sith -"

Qui-Gon cursed, a particularly vehement one that he'd picked up in the dredges of the galaxy. "If it is the Sith that's been putting thoughts in his head, it's entirely without Obi-Wan's consent."

"And how can you be certain?" Mace pressed. "What do you really know about Kenobi?"

Qui-Gon felt his hands clench into fists. "I know enough -"

A sharp crack of Yoda's gimer stick against the permacrete cut him off. "Stop bickering you will! Pointless, this is! Learn the truth we eventually will. Until then, time young Obi-Wan needs. And time he will have!"

Mace glared, but did not argue, and Yoda turned to Qui-Gon. "Rescue Obi-Wan again, I think you must, hmm?" He pointed with his gimer stick, and turned to see a fidgeting Obi-Wan talking to Healer Vortrela.

"Sith," he muttered. He turned to shoot Mace one final, deadly look. "We'll discuss this - at length - later," he warned. With a hasty half bow to Yoda, he headed across the landing platform at a long-strided walk.

"I know it's frightening," he heard Neesi say in her soft, bell-like voice when he got near enough. "But, I want you to think about it. Will you?"

Qui-Gon stepped up beside the young man and touched him on the elbow, frowning when Obi-Wan nearly jumped out of his skin. Wide, green eyes turned to meet his pleadingly. "If you're discussing removing the collar, Healer Vortrela," the Jedi Master said without breaking eye contact with Obi-Wan, "I don't believe he's ready to consider that at this time."

"I understand," Neesi said. "Still -"

"When he is ready," Qui-Gon interrupted firmly, "we'll contact you."

She read the dismissal for what it was, and nodded, taking a single step backwards. "Of course." Then, her gaze fell on Qui-Gon, and her violet eyes narrowed. "You look exhausted," she said pointedly.

"I'm fine," he told her. He looked back at his two charges. "Let's go to our quarters, shall we?"

Obi-Wan drew a shaky breath and nodded. Without another word, he followed Anakin off the landing pad and into the Temple proper, with Qui-Gon trailing them silently.

Supreme Chancellor Palpatine smiled at his guests. "Yes, well, perhaps we can discuss this tomorrow, over lunch," he said, stepping toward the door.

"Of courssse, Chancellor," the Nimbrackian Ambassador hissed, herding his aides ahead of him. "We thanksss you for your time, and knowsss you are a busy man."

"Oh, it's been my pleasure, I assure you." He watched the tall reptilians as they lumbered out into the corridor before saying his goodbyes. Still wearing a benevolent smile, he closed the door, and instantly the smile faded.

"So, they're back," he whispered, having felt through the Force the arrival of Jinn and his two charges. He reached out to brush his thoughts against young Kenobi's, and his frown deepened when he found the way blocked by a much stronger, well-trained mind.

"Jinn!" he said, using the name as a curse.

But, it didn't matter. There were ways around even the most powerful barrier, if one knew how to do it. He narrowed his focus, and managed to slip a thin tendril of consciousness past the Jedi's shielding.

"They have you right where they want you now," he sent, making sure the young man wouldn't be able to tell Sidious' thoughts from his own. "They're going to sell you again. Be wary. Don't trust them, for they will betray you."

The Temple looked exactly the same as Obi-Wan remembered it. Returning should have been comforting, like coming home, but it wasn't. He couldn't get past the feeling that this was now a prison. His prison.

He glanced to his left, where Jinn walked serenely, his hands folded into the sleeves of his robe. Beyond him, Anakin was chattering excitedly about seeing his friends again, hoping the dining hall was preparing something called "choco surprise," and how good it would feel to sleep in his own bed.

They passed a group of young Knights and older Padawans, and Obi-Wan quickly averted his gaze, hoping there was no one there that knew him. He didn't want to have to explain what had happened to him, what he'd become in the years since he'd been cast out of the Temple. Even so, he sensed their eyes following him curiously.

Jinn turned down another corridor, and Obi-Wan abruptly realized that he had no idea where they were. He wouldn't be able to find his way back here, assuming, of course, that he was even permitted out of their quarters. He glanced at Jinn, surprised to see the Master staring at him.

"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" the Jedi asked softly.

Obi-Wan mashed his lips together and nodded. "Uh huh."

Jinn's eyes narrowed slightly. "I meant what I said," he intoned. "I will let no harm come to you."

A lump formed in the back of Obi-Wan's throat, preventing him from answering. Instead, he merely nodded.

No harm, his mind repeated. No harm. But, I guess that depends on your point of view, doesn't it? Do you mean no one will physically injure me? No one will rape me? No one will rip this collar off of me and slip me back into madness? Or do you mean that I'll be given sanctuary here, allowed to live as I once did, safe and happy and with a promising future ahead of me? Because if you mean that, then you really are crazy.

He followed Jinn around another corner, then stopped as the large man stepped up to a nondescript door and keyed the locking device. A moment later, he was being ushered into a homey if somewhat austere living room.

"Put your things away, Anakin," Jinn ordered, dropping his own case beside the comfortable looking sofa, "then I'd like you to check the messages for me."

"Yes, Master," the boy called over his shoulder, already halfway to his room.

Jinn turned to Obi-Wan, who had stopped somewhat self-consciously just inside the door. "You may take the master bedroom."

Obi-Wan glanced at the open doorway, nodding slightly, then looked back at the Jedi. "Where will you sleep?" he asked, feeling a strange longing in the pit of his stomach. He squashed it ruthlessly, knowing that Jinn would surely not condescend to sleeping with him.

"The couch will do fine," Jinn said. But, he was looking at Obi-Wan strangely, and for a moment the young man feared that his thoughts had been overheard. "I want you to feel at home here, Obi-Wan. If there's anything you need, you merely have to ask."

Obi-Wan bit his lower lip, and nodded. He went into the larger of the two bedrooms, and stopped at the foot of the oversized bed. The place smelled of Jinn. More than that, it felt like him. Just a handful of days ago, it would have driven him crazy, to be surrounded by the man like this. But now, it was a comfortable feeling. He closed his eyes, reveling in the sensations.

And just as quickly opened them again, frowning at his reaction.

Don't let yourself get lulled into complacency, he reminded himself sternly. You're not safe here. Not by a long shot.

He stayed there for some time, needing privacy. He felt tense and wound up, like a spring too tightly coiled, though he didn't understand the cause. This is stupid, he decided finally. You can't hide in here forever, Kenobi.

He drew a deep breath and went back into the main room, slipping into the oversized stuffed chair by the window that he assumed was Jinn's. The Jedi and Anakin were still listening to the messages left for them while they were off planet, but he turned his back on them, engrossing himself in a study of the traffic patterns outside.

He heard the boy's voice rise several times with the excitement of youth, even heard him giggling once as he played back a communication from a friend. Part of Obi-Wan longed to go and join them, to be in the midst of this happy homecoming. But another part, a part he barely recognized as himself, kept him in seclusion.

Obi-Wan felt a gentle touch on his shoulder and turned to see Anakin's small hand there. He looked up into the concerned face.

"Are you okay?" the boy asked softly.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm fine."

"Okay. Well, I've got some stuff to do," Anakin said, flashing him a smile as he headed for the front door. "So, I'll see you in a little while, okay?"

"Sure." He glanced across at Jinn, who had risen from the desk chair and was reaching for his robe.

"Anakin will be in the training salle with Master Yoda for the next couple of hours," the tall man said. "And I've got an appointment, as well. Feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you get hungry. It's well stocked. I've left you some books and holovids on the desk if you get bored."

Jinn paused in the doorway, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps we can take a walk in the gardens when I return. I'd like to talk to you about something."

"I --- uh, may be asleep," the young man said, suddenly nervous.

"If you are, I won't disturb you," Qui-Gon assured him. "I'll see you later."

As the door shut behind the Jedi, Obi-Wan wiped his sweating palms upon his leggings. What could Jinn have to discuss with him? He racked his brains to remember if he had committed some offense, intentional or otherwise. Nothing came to mind.

Perhaps Jinn was going to use the walk in the gardens as a ruse. Was it a set-up? If the boy wasn't going to be here, why couldn't Jinn talk to him in their quarters? The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Jinn had some ulterior motive for getting him out in the open.

"They have me right where they want me now," he thought, feeling a shiver of fear investigate his spine. "They're going to sell me again. I must be wary and not trust them, for they will only betray me." A wave of anger poured over him. He rose from his chair and began to restlessly prowl the common room. Think! You've got to be prepared. Can't let him get the jump on you. Maybe ---

Obi-Wan paused in mid-thought as his eyes lit upon a small obsidian statue gracing one of the shelves. He picked it up and hefted it, testing its weight and the fit to his hand. This will do nicely, he thought. Now, where to hide? His brows drawn together as he scanned the room for the most defensible position. His face smoothed into a pleased smile when his gaze settled on the closed door of the master bedroom. That would be the last place Jinn would suspect an attack.

He slipped inside and turned off the lights, plunging the room into near darkness. He leaned against the wall and clutched the statue to his chest. His heart was pounding. Could he really hit Jinn, he wondered? Could he kill him, even if it was to prevent whatever the Jedi had planned? He turned the statue over in his hands, his mind reeling with the impact of what he was about to do. Abruptly, he let it fall to the carpeted floor.

"No," he said out loud. "I can't kill him. I can't do that, not now, not ever."

A niggling thought pressed to the forefront of his mind, feeling somehow foreign, as if it did not belong to him. What's the point? it said. Even if you kill Jinn, there are hundreds of Jedi within this Temple. They will never let you go. There is no escape. The only freedom is death.

He shuddered. A creeping darkness seemed to be invading him, dragging him down into despair.

I don't want to die! he told himself.

It's the only choice, the dark thoughts insisted. There is no escape. He began to tremble as the darkness pressed in harder, almost a living entity, wrapping its tendrils around his very soul.

Adi Gallia met Qui-Gon at the door with a kiss of welcome. "Punctual as always," the lovely dark-skinned woman said. "Come on in." She led him into to the spacious common room of her quarters, a benefit of being a member of the High Council. "I've brewed some tea, if you'd like some."

Qui-Gon smiled and nodded. "Yes, thank you, " he said, seating himself in one of the room's dark blue overstuffed chairs.

"When you first contacted the Council about Obi-Wan, I couldn't understand how he could have gone missing without anyone noticing," Adi said a moment later as she took handed him a china cup wreathed with steam. "So I pulled his records and started doing some research."

Qui-Gon took a cautious sip before answering. "That did seem rather odd to me as well," he agreed.

"Records for the regions of space between Coruscant and Bandomeer show that a rather powerful ion storm passed through the area at the time Obi-Wan's orders were transmitted. It's a rather frequent phenomenon for that sector. Agricorps never knew he was coming so they didn't send anyone to pick him up."

"And an opportunist, seeing a boy all alone at a spaceport, could have persuaded him to leave with him," Qui-Gon surmised.

"Especially if they were planning to abduct a Force user. It's pretty obvious there was some extensive planning involved," Adi nodded.

"Are there any other Initiates missing?" he asked as he sipped his tea.

"We're checking on that. I'm going to propose some extensive reforms in the tracking of all Initiates assigned to other branches of service. We've got to make sure this doesn't happen again," she rose from the table to gather their empty dishes. "Or hasn't already happened again."

"Adi, wouldn't you have thought that some of Obi-Wan's friends would have tried to contact him after he was assigned to Agricorps?" Qui-Gon set his cup aside and leaned forward.

"I thought of that," the Council member replied. "When I performed a search on communications sent to Obi-Wan in care of Agricorps, I found several from a Bant Eerin. However, there were no replies. So, I got in touch with the comm center for Agricorps to inquire on their policy for handling undeliverable messages."

She sat down beside Qui-Gon, taking a sip of her tea before placing the cup on the low table and tucking her feet up under her. "The head of communications is this annoying little Toydarian. Very impressed with his own self-importance." She grimaced. "I finally managed to pin him down on his procedures. Seems he took it upon himself years ago to summarily trash any undeliverable messages. He said it saved Agricorps money, if you can imagine that."

Qui-Gon shook his head glumly. "There were so many things conspiring against Obi-Wan. So many things went wrong."

"Qui-Gon, do you really think the Sith are communicating with him?" Adi asked, an expression of concern on her lovely face.

"I hope I'm wrong," the Jedi replied. "But I can't think of any other explanation for both Obi-Wan and Anakin hearing the voice."

"If the Sith are in contact with him, do you think it is wise to allow him to roam free in the Temple? What if they get control of him, make him do something that results in someone being hurt?"

"I'll keep an eye on him," Qui-Gon promised her.

"Please understand, Qui. It's not that I don't trust your judgment. I've got to look at the bigger picture, examine how this young man's presence could affect us all." She reached out to touch her companion on the arm.

"I know. And I appreciate the position that you, and all of the Council members, must take in this situation. The safety of the Jedi is paramount." Qui-Gon smiled as he covered Adi's hand with his own. He glanced at his chrono, then rose.

"Well, I appreciate thank you for the information. I promised Obi-Wan a walk in the gardens tonight. If you'll excuse me?" Qui-Gon brushed a kiss across her cheekbone before rising. "Let me know what you find out about the Initiates."

"I will. Good night, Qui-Gon," she said as she saw him out the door.

The ping on an incoming comm call startled Obi-Wan out of his disquietude.

It's probably about me, he thought, an image of a stern-looking Mace Windu flashing across his mind. He stepped into the common room and soon found himself in front of the desk, staring at the blinking light that indicated a message had been recorded. With a slightly shaking hand, he reached out and keyed it to play.

"Qui? This is Neesi," a female voice said. He wrapped his arms around himself as he recognized the voice as the Healer he had met on the landing platform. "I was just wondering if you'd had a chance to talk to Obi-Wan about having that collar removed. We'd like to do it as soon as possible. Contact me, please."

The message ended, and Obi-Wan keyed it back to standby, not wanting Jinn to know he'd heard it. Anxiously, he began to pace, one hand covering the cold metal of the collar protectively.

"What am I going to do?" he muttered. "I can't let them take this off!" But, he didn't have long to dwell on the problem, as the door opened at that moment and Jinn walked in.

"Oh, good, you're up," the Jedi said. "We need to talk, Obi-Wan."

"About what?"

Jinn looked at him, seeming to read his anxiety. "Why don't we take that walk," he said without answering. "You'll enjoy the gardens here ---"

"I don't want to walk!" Obi-Wan snapped, and Jinn blinked in surprise. "Just say what you want to say!"

The Jedi nodded slowly, taking the time to remove his robe and hang it up behind the door. Then, he sat down on the end of the couch and motioned Obi-Wan to do the same. Instead, the young man dropped to the floor, folding his legs beneath him. Jinn watched him for a few moments before he began to speak.

"I've just come from a meeting with Council member Adi Gallia," Jinn began. "We were discussing how it was possible for you to disappear from Bandomeer without out anyone noticing."

Obi-Wan drew a deep breath, feeling some of his tension easing. Perhaps he'd been wrong. Perhaps Jinn wasn't going to try to convince him to have the inhibitor collar removed.

"There was a powerful ion storm in the area when your orders were transmitted. Agricorps never knew you were coming. That's why no one was there to pick you up."

"Except for Dev," Obi-Wan said, frowning. "So, how'd he know I was coming?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "That's still unclear. He could have had a contact on the transport, or he might have intercepted the message somehow."

Obi-Wan nodded.

"At any rate," the Jedi was continuing, "steps are being taken to find out if any other Initiates have been abducted, and to prevent it from ever happening again."

Good idea, Obi-Wan thought bitterly. But, that doesn't help me much, does it? Then, he tensed as Qui-Gon leaned forward, his expression becoming even more solemn.

"There is another matter I wish to discuss," he said.

So much for being relaxed! Obi-Wan felt his shoulders tighten up, and he set his mouth in a thin line, his gaze dropping away. Here it comes.

"Do you remember when you were an Initiate, living here at the Temple?" Qui-Gon asked. "Do you remember being in touch with the Force, knowing what it was like to feel it flowing through you, strengthening you, helping you?"

Obi-Wan fidgeted, picking nervously at non-existent lint on the carpet between his knees. He couldn't bring himself to look at the Jedi, but he forced himself to listen, his own heartbeat loud in his ears.

"You could have that again," Jinn said. He heard the man draw a long, deep breath. "The Healers and I are very concerned about you, about the long term effects that wearing that collar could have, especially since you've been hearing voices. We think it would be in your best interest if it were removed as soon as possible."

"No!" Obi-Wan yelled, finally able to stand it no longer. He jumped to his feet, his body stiffening involuntarily as he prepared to fight his way out if necessary. "I don't want the collar removed! I don't want it, and you can't convince me otherwise, so you might as well just save your breath!"

Jinn seemed startled by his anger, but he merely folded his hands together and nodded. "Very well. We needn't discuss it, if that's what you want."

"That's what I want!" Obi-Wan headed quickly for his room. "I'm going to rest now."

Jinn said nothing else, but he could feel the Jedi's eyes on him as he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

Oh shit! Obi-Wan thought as he dropped face down on the bed. What am I going to do?

Qui-Gon stared at the closed door for a long moment. He hadn't expected Obi-Wan to get so upset, and it troubled him. Although the young man wasn't aware of it, Qui-Gon knew he was suffering from his lack of contact with the Force. If only he'd agree to have that collar removed . . .

He glanced at his desk, noticing for the first time the light flashing on the comm. Rising, he crossed to it and played the message, then reached to send one of his own. His hand paused in mid-motion. With a glance behind him at the closed bedroom door, he reached into his desk for the earpiece. No sense upsetting Obi-Wan any more than necessary. That done, he signaled Neesi Vortrela.

"Hello, Qui," she said a moment later, her voice ringing softly in his ear. "I see you got my message."

"Yes, I did," Qui-Gon responded.

"And? Have you convinced him yet?"

The Jedi Master sighed. "No, not yet."

"This is very important, Qui," the petite woman reminded him. "It isn't something we should put off."

"I know it's important."

"Okay. Keep working on him. And, in the meanwhile, I need to schedule him for a complete physical. There's no telling what kind of injuries he has, or what kind of infections he could be harboring."

Qui-Gon nodded. This, at least, he could do. "Set up the appointment for tomorrow," he told her. "I'll have him there."

When he'd heard Jinn playing the Healer's message, Obi-Wan had risen from bed and moved stealthily to the door. He could only hear Qui-Gon's side of the conversation, but it was enough to chill him to his very bones. He leaned back and slid down the wall until the carpeted floor stopped him, the memory replaying in his mind.

"No, not yet," Jinn had said. "I know it's important. Set up the appointment for tomorrow. I'll have him there."

Fuck! Obi-Wan thought, burying his face in his hands. I was right. He is going to betray me.

CONTINUED IN PART 4