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Necessary Deceit 5

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

He moved slowly through the familiar corridors, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his own bed at long last and sleep for a week. His mission had been long and hard, and Obi-Wan was exhausted, bruised, and still covered in the clinging black dust and ash of Ramina Prime.

As he rounded the final corner, he ran a hand through a beard that had grown ragged, then he halted, puzzled. Master Yoda was standing in front of his quarters, clearly waiting for him. Resisting the urge to brush at his filthy clothes, the knight slipped his arms into his sleeves and bowed in respect.

Force, let me at least get a shower and a night's sleep before another mission, he thought, then he scolded himself for it. He was a Jedi. He would go where he was needed. "Master Yoda. This is an unexpected surprise."

"Surprise," Yoda echoed almost sadly, watching him closely. "Mmm, yes. A surprise."

Obi-Wan managed not to frown. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit, Master?"

"Have something important to tell you, I do."

Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, concerned. Yoda was usually more forth-coming than this. He could sense no impending danger, no sense that anything terrible was wrong. Something was different, however. A portion of his mind, closed off since his master's death ten years ago, was buzzing almost painfully. He took a deep breath. "Master, please tell me."

Yoda nodded and gestured toward the door. "Show you, I will. Inside we will go."

Obi-Wan placed his hand over the palm-print reader and the door opened before him with barely a whisper. He stepped inside, and stopped, feeling himself tremble.

This is impossible, his mind told him, denying what his eyes saw. For standing before him, alive and well, was Master Qui-Gon. Beside him was a padawan that looked somehow familiar, but Obi-Wan barely spared him a glance, unable to take his eyes off the shocking image of his living, breathing master. Obi-Wan opened his mouth, surprised when no sound escaped save a small, inarticulate squeak. He closed it forcefully, clenching his jaw.

Qui-Gon took a step forward, one hand outstretched, and Obi-Wan staggered backwards, away from this illusion, nearly tripping over Yoda.

Qui-Gon froze. "Hello, padawan," he said.

No, no, no! Obi-Wan's mind screamed as his world spun on its axis. This couldn't be real! He had seen this man die, had seen the body burn down to ashes. He finally found his voice. "You're dead!"

Qui-Gon slowly lowered his arm. "I can explain."

"Explain?" Obi-Wan's voice broke on the word. He let his eyes roam over Qui-Gon, noting the changes that ten years had brought. His hair and beard was more silvered, the fine lines around his eyes deeper and more pronounced. But, he was dead, right? He shouldn't have looked any different than the last time Obi-Wan saw him. He took another involuntary step backward, glad that Yoda had moved aside. He felt the blood drain from his face as the pieces finally clicked into place. "A lie. It was all a lie."

Qui-Gon stepped forward, reaching for him again. "Obi-Wan -"

He moved away, stopping only when he felt the door at his back.

"How could you! How could you let me think all this time --" He looked at Yoda. "You! You knew, too! All this time! All the pain that I suffered, the grief, and you knew he was alive!"

The padawan, who had remained silent all this time, finally spoke. "Please, Master Obi-Wan, let them explain."

Something about the inflection of the young man's words made Obi-Wan do a double take. That blonde hair, the blue eyes - a second wave of shock washed through him. "A-anakin?"

"Yes, Master. It's me."

The relief Obi-Wan should have felt at knowing they were both alive simply wasn't there. They had lied to him, all of them. All these years spent alone and grieving had been for nothing. "Damn you!" he said, hearing the white-hot anger in his voice and not bothering to hide it. "Damn you all to hell!"

With that, he spun on his heel and stormed out the door. He moved blindly through the halls, no particular destination in mind, merely a soul-wrenching need to get away. As he approached one of the more crowded areas, he drew his hood up, silently asking for privacy.

I can't believe this! he thought. Ten years worth of pain and grief and guilt, knowing I was the cause of both their deaths. And, all the while, they were alive -- and together!

He soon found himself in a little used garden in the west tower, not quite certain how he got there. Usually, when he needed to think, he went to the star map room, or to one of the balconies. A garden was, well, more Qui-Gon's style.

Anakin even looks like him, he realized, recalling the ramrod straight back, the air of confidence and unshakable serenity. He's obviously a much better padawan than I ever was. Qui-Gon tried to teach me all those things, to teach me balance, but I never achieved it. Anakin obviously has.

Obi-Wan slipped off the formal path and moved back into a secluded area, surrounded on three sides by the lush foliage. Here, a small stone bench jutted out from the wall. He sat down, his shoulders slumped.

What's wrong with me? he wondered despondently. I should be thrilled that they're alive, but instead I only feel betrayed. He tried to release his negative emotions, as a Jedi should, and failed. He pushed his hood back and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his cupped hands.

He tried to meditate, to find the quiet center that was eluding him. He practiced a breathing exercise he'd used since the creche, one that had never failed to calm him. Still, his pulse raced, his breath catching in what sounded uncomfortably like sobs, and there was a tight band of pain around his ribs. Around him, the garden hummed with the song of the Living Force, but he couldn't hear it for the lies thrumming through his brain.

An almost inaudible footstep let him know that he wasn't alone. "Obi- Wan," a familiar voice said softly.

Obi-Wan straightened as Qui-Gon entered the small clearing, Anakin close on his heels.

Obi-Wan clenched his fists as the anger bubbled up in him again, causing his jaw to tighten almost painfully. "I need some time alone, Qui-Gon. Time to think."

"Unfortunately, time is a luxury we do not have. The Council has a mission for us."

"Us?" Obi-Wan echoed, hearing his voice break embarrassingly on the word. "Why in the name of the Light would they want the three of us on a mission together?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest, and Anakin did the same a moment later in perhaps unconscious imitation of his master. "Because we are best qualified for what the mission entails," the older man said.

Obi-Wan leaped to his feet, too agitated to sit still. "The Council isn't quite in my good graces at the moment." He started to move past Qui-Gon, but the older man caught him by the arm. Instantly, Obi-Wan went on the offensive. He grabbed a double handful of his former master's tunics and slammed him up against the wall.

"You do not have permission to touch me!"

"Calm down, padawan," Qui-Gon began. Hearing that title only added to Obi-Wan's rage. His mind instantly recalled the humiliation of being rejected by this man in the Council Chamber, the pain of watching him die in his arms, and the nearly equal pain of losing Anakin a few days later. Freeing one hand, he drew his arm back and threw his best right hook. It connected solidly with Qui-Gon's jaw, knocking the master to the ground.

"Master Obi-Wan, no!" Anakin yelled, stepping forward. Obi-Wan ignored him as he stood over Qui-Gon, glaring down at the older man. Lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, Qui-Gon's lip was bleeding, already starting to bruise and swell.

"Why!" Obi-Wan screamed. "Why did you let me think you were dead? How could you have done that to me?"

It was Anakin who answered. "All this anger is not good for you, Master Obi-Wan," he said in a calming tone. "You know it leads to the Dark Side."

The young knight felt his temper flare. He glared down at Qui- Gon. "You didn't trust me to train your Chosen One, did you? Well, you've done a fine job of it yourself. He's a younger version of you! I'm quite certain that you and Anakin can handle this mission without me." He turned on his heel and stormed toward the main path, not looking back.

"Where are you going?" Qui-Gon called after him.

"Someplace where I can be alone," Obi-Wan growled over his shoulder. "And don't follow me this time!"

Anakin stared after Obi-Wan for a moment, then bent to help Qui-Gon to his feet. "Are you all right, Master?"

"Yes, Anakin. I'm fine."

Anakin nodded somewhat dubiously, watching as Qui-Gon wiped the blood from his lip, then glanced after the disappearing knight. "What about the mission?"

Qui-Gon followed his gaze. "His universe was turned on its end today. Let's give him a chance to get used to the idea."

"He's awfully angry."

"Obi-Wan is a Jedi first and foremost. He will do his duty."

The summons from the Council, when it came, was certainly not unexpected, but it sent a frizzle of tension up Obi-Wan's spine none- the-less. He wanted to refuse, or to grumble, or to throw his comlink across the room. But he did none of those things. He was a Jedi, one of the Order's most trusted. Drawing the tatters of his serenity around him like a second robe, he stepped through the double doors.

Qui-Gon was there, of course, with Anakin standing a half step behind and to the left. Obi-Wan didn't let his gaze even flicker towards them. Instead, he stared straight ahead at Master Yoda, though he saw the coldness of his gaze reflected in the ancient eyes. Stiffly, he bowed.

"You summoned me, Masters?"

"Mission for you, we have."

Obi-Wan folded his arms into his sleeves. "And, what exactly is this mission?"

It was Mace who answered. "There has been an assassination attempt against Senator Amidala of Naboo."

From the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan saw Anakin take a small step forward. Mace frowned at the padawan's lapse of control, but continued. "It was unsuccessful. The Supreme Chancellor has asked the Jedi to serve as her protectors while she is here on Coruscant."

Obi-Wan felt his former master move up to stand beside him, Anakin close behind, but he didn't turn. "I'm certain that Master Jinn and Padawan Skywalker are more than qualified to handle the mission without my assistance."

Several of the Council members frowned, and Yoda banged his gimer stick on the floor. "Sending the three of you, we are! Serious this threat is! Get to the bottom of it, we must!"

"Your mission is twofold," Mace said, as though it were a given that Obi-Wan would accept. "Your primary concern will be to insure the Senator's safety, but we also wish for you to investigate this attack. The identity of this would-be assassin must be discovered. Obi-Wan, you will serve as the lead on this mission."

Obi-Wan gave a short nod. "When do we leave?"

Yoda relaxed back into his chair. "Late it is now. At daylight, the Senator will expect you."

"As you wish, Masters." Keeping his eyes to himself, Obi-Wan turned and left the Council Chamber. He heard footsteps behind him, but refused to turn. Even Qui-Gon's softly spoken, "Obi-Wan?" didn't slow his footsteps. He pulled his hood forward to cover his face and kept walking.

Mace and Yoda exchanged a glance as the Council Chambers began to empty out.

"Angry, Obi-Wan is," Yoda observed.

"Yes." Mace nodded. "But we have to believe we did the right thing. There was no other choice."

"Told him, we should have," Yoda said softly. "Great is the harm we have done to him by not taking him into our confidence."

Mace nodded, agreeing with the old master's observation. Many times over the years, they had debated telling Obi-Wan the truth. They had watched as he volunteered for mission after mission, each more dangerous than the last. But, he had become their most trusted knight, easily stepping into Qui-Gon's role as their top negotiator, and Force knew they had needed his expertise. As the years went by, the strain had taken its toll. He had grown gaunt and pale, his eyes ever shadowed with fatigue.

The short periods he was actually in Temple, Obi-Wan spent in strenuous workouts with other Jedi or in solitary meditation. They had each tried to talk to him, tried to help him past his guilt and sorrow, but he was a closed vessel, nodding politely but taking nothing they said to heart. His intensive focus had pushed his skills with a lightsaber to evern greater heights. Now, he was on a level with Mace - and perhaps even with Yoda.

"We did the right thing," Mace repeated.

Yoda chewed thoughtfully on the handle of his gimer stick. "Hope so, I do. Suffered he has. Time for his suffering to end, it is."

In the hallway outside the Council Chambers, Qui-Gon stood watching as Obi-Wan disappeared around a corner.

"Master?" Anakin said, and Qui-Gon turned to the young man standing beside him. "Is he ever going to forgive us?"

Concerned by the obvious pain in Anakin's eyes, Qui-Gon put a hand on the padawan's shoulder. "He's not angry with you, Anakin, or he won't be, as soon as he's thought it through. You had no choice in what happened, and therefore no blame. It's me and the Council that he's upset with." He let his gaze sweep the now empty corridor. He could feel, faintly, Obi-Wan's anger, washing over him from the training bond that had never been completely severed. In fact, it was struggling to reassert itself now that they were in close proximity.

He let himself sigh. "He will move past this."

"Excuse me for questioning you, Master, but how can you be so certain?"

"I know Obi-Wan."

"You knew him ten years ago," Anakin reminded him. "People change."

Lightning bolts traced across the sky, their flickering light briefly illuminating the common room of Obi-Wan's quarters. The young knight knelt there, sitting quietly upon his heels, his palms resting on his thighs. It was now quite late, and he knew he should be sleeping, preparing for his meeting with Amidala tomorrow, but he found he could not rest. He had spent many hours in meditation, struggling to release the feelings of betrayal and pain that burned in his heart. Peace, a state that once came so easily, now eluded him, just as it had immediately following Qui-Gon's death. No, not his death. For Qui- Gon had returned.

The distant reverberation of thunder drew Obi-Wan into the present. His gaze moved to the window, watching as the droplets of water splashed against the transparisteel. How many storms had he experienced in the last ten years? And how many times had he thought of Qui-Gon during those storms? His master, who loved to stand in the pouring rain, his arms outstretched, his face turned to the heavens as he embraced the Living Force.

The door chime called softly to him, announcing a visitor. Suspecting that it was Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan was tempted to ignore the summons, but with a sigh, he rose from his knees and crossed the room. He keyed the sensor with a wave of his hand. The tall man stood framed in the doorway.

"What do you want?" Obi-Wan asked brusquely.

"I thought perhaps we could talk. Just the two of us. Alone." Qui-Gon stepped forward, as if to enter. Obi-Wan's hand shot out and he braced one arm across the doorway, blocking the way.

"I don't think so," the young knight growled softly. "Go home, Qui- Gon. Go back to your padawan."

"Obi-Wan, you must come to terms with what has happened," the older man counseled. "I know you are angry with me. You have every right to be. But if our mission is to be successful, you must put these feelings aside."

Obi-Wan snorted derisively as he turned away and moved to the window. "You gave up your right to guide me ten years ago, Qui-Gon, when you put me aside in favor of Anakin. Don't think you can pick up where we left off, because I've changed. I'm not your young, idealistic padawan any more. I haven't been for a long time."

His former master said nothing. The uncomfortable silence in the room grew heavier and more oppressive, but Obi-Wan stubbornly refused to look at the other man. He kept his attention focused on the distant traffic flow, until he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

Qui-Gon put a hand on his shoulder. "We must be able to work together. It may be the Sith who are trying to kill Amidala."

Obi-Wan turned, shrugging off the hand and glaring up into Qui-Gon's face. "Speaking of the Sith, I saw him kill you."

"That wasn't a Sith," Qui-Gon said, his words slow as if he were reluctant to speak them. "It was a Jedi in disguise."

Obi-Wan felt his face go white. "I killed a Jedi?" he whispered hollowly.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

"That's not important now-"

"Who was he?" Obi-Wan repeated, louder this time.

Qui-Gon blinked at the tone and fell silent for a moment. When finally he answered, his voice was hushed. "His name was Korem Tera."

"But, Korem Tera was killed during his trials."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Facing you was his trials. Obi-Wan, no one blames you for his death. He knew there was a chance he wouldn't walk away from there. He knew how important it was for the Sith to believe I'd been killed. The Council sent me into hiding on Dagobah, and brought Anakin to me a few days later. The boy was too much a target, in too much danger from the Sith, to remain in the open. Surely you must see that."

Obi-Wan moved to the couch and collapsed into its soft cushions, that familiar cold knot of grief and sorrow growing in his stomach.

"I killed a padawan," he said, staring at the floor. Then, he looked up to meet Qui-Gon's eyes. "If you'd trusted me as you should have, you'd have told me. No one had to die to cover your deceit."

"I wanted to, Obi-Wan, but -"

"But what?" The knight jumped to his feet to stand toe to toe with his former master. "The Council wouldn't let you? When did the Council's orders ever stop you from doing what you thought was right?"

"Yoda was convinced that the Sith was nearby, watching. That only your honest grief would validate my death."

"My honest grief," Obi-Wan echoed. "Well, you certainly accomplished that." He wrapped his arms across his chest, feeling suddenly chilled. "So, how did you manage it? I saw that lightsaber penetrate your chest."

"Padawan Tera was very good. He deactivated his blade at the moment of impact. All I got was a rather nasty burn." Obi-Wan turned away, but he could still fell Qui-Gon's eyes on him as the man continued. "I dampened down the training bond and suppressed my vital signs, so that you'd think I'd died. The first healer on scene was another Jedi. As soon as he separated us, a hastily grown clone body was substituted for mine. That's what was burned on the pyre. At that point, I was already off world."

"Do you have any idea how I mourned you?" Obi-Wan asked, blinking back the tears of remembered pain that threatened to spill. "Do you have any clue how guilty I felt, for letting you run ahead of me? And, to be left with a padawan when I felt like such a failure to the Order?"

"I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan spun again.

"Well, it's not enough! Do you hear me? Your apology isn't enough to wipe away ten years of suffering, ten years of knowing that I let you die, let Anakin die!" He staggered backwards as Qui-Gon reached for him. "I want you to leave now. And, I want you to know this - I don't forgive you."

"Try to breathe, padawan," Qui-Gon teased gently as the turbolift carried them upward toward Senator Amidala's apartments. The young man inhaled quickly, then wiped a bead of sweat from his temple.

"Do you think she will remember me?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm sure she will." Qui-Gon nodded. "The question you might rather be asking is, will she be angry?"

"Because they told everyone we were dead and it wasn't the truth," Anakin concluded his master's thought. He shook his head. "I don't think she will be angry. More like surprised, I'd guess."

"What makes you think this?" Qui-Gon asked, intrigued as always at the workings of his companion's mind. "The prophecy of the Chosen One is not known outside the Order. She would not know of our motivations. All she will see is our deception."

"I'm not sure; it's just a feeling, I guess. It's not going to be like it is with Obi-Wan, though. Padme has no reason to feel personally betrayed. Obi-Wan does," Anakin replied as the turbolift came to a halt. The doors opened to reveal a small antechamber with two Nubian guards posted. They held their weapons alertly as they came to attention.

"The Senator is expecting you," one of them said. As he turned for the door to the inner rooms, Qui-Gon glanced again at his nervous padawan.

"Relax," he said softly, struggling to keep the smile off his face. He suspected Anakin saw it anyway.

"I'm trying, master," the young man said, drawing himself up to his full height as they were ushered inside. Obi-Wan and Amidala were seated side by side on a plush couch. She looked up as they approached, her face as white as a sheet.

"Ani?" she said, her voice trembling just slightly. "Ani? Is it really you?"

Anakin stepped forward and knelt by her feet, taking her hand. She reached up with her free hand and touched his cheek tenderly.

"It is you! You're alive!" Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I was so sad when I heard that you'd been killed!"

"It's all right, now," Anakin said, one hand fluttering from the couch to the small of her back as if uncertain where it should be. After a moment, Amidala sat back. Wiping away tears, she smiled up at Qui-Gon.

"Obi-Wan explained to me why the Council felt it necessary to fake your death, Master Qui-Gon. I cannot tell you how much it means to me to see you standing here."

Qui-Gon shot Obi-Wan a look, surprised that the knight has explained something to her that he obviously doesn't understand or accept himself. As expected, Obi-Wan avoided his gaze. He turned his full attention back to Amidala, who was still speaking.

"You are a great hero on Naboo. Did you know that? There's even a statue of you in the palace gardens."

"You honor me too much," Qui-Gon said with a slight bow. "Obi-Wan was the real hero."

Amidala offered a sly grin. "It seems you're not the martyr we thought you were, Master Jedi," she teased.

Qui-Gon and Anakin both smiled at that, but Obi-Wan's face paled. Amidala paused, glancing at the knight and apparently realizing for the first time the tension in the room. Then, her brows drew together. "Wait. If your death on Naboo was faked, then that wasn't really a Sith, was it?"

"No," Qui-Gon said.

"It was a Jedi," Obi-Wan interrupted before he could finish. He looked down at his hands. "I killed a Jedi."

Amidala drew in a startled breath. "A Jedi? But --"

Obi-Wan rose abruptly, ending the conversation, and turned to Captain Typho. "We should review your security precautions."

"Certainly," the man said. As the knight followed him out of the apartment, Amidala turned to look up at Qui-Gon again.

"It really is good to see you alive," she said. "But I sense all is not well between you and Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon gave a short nod. "The Council chose not to take Obi-Wan into their confidence on the plan."

"And he feels betrayed."

Qui-Gon looked at Amidala with a bit of admiration. "Astute as ever, young handmaiden." The senator grinned for a moment, then sobered. "Well, we can only trust that his acceptance will be forthcoming."

It was some time before Obi-Wan returned. Qui-Gon turned from the workstation in the corner, where he had been researching the attack on the landing pad. Obi-Wan studiously avoided his eyes as he reached into his belt to withdraw his viewer. Switching it on, he frowned at the dark screen.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"She turned off the camera," Anakin told him.

"What was she thinking?" Obi-Wan asked, starting toward the Senator's bedroom.

Qui-Gon held out one hand to stop him. "She's taking a bath and didn't want us watching her."

The knight frowned. "Still, it's not safe."

"Don't worry, Obi-Wan. Master Qui-Gon and I can sense everything that's going on in there." Anakin blinked as if afraid he'd said the wrong thing. "Of course, I'm quite certain that you can, too."

Obi-Wan's gaze cut sideways to study the boy's face. "Possibly," he said noncommittally. Then, he turned to Qui-Gon. "You're using her as bait?"

The Jedi master shrugged slightly. "She thought perhaps it might draw out her attacker. I agreed."

Obi-Wan's face darkened. "I should have been consulted. The Council did put me in charge of this mission, after all."

Qui-Gon tipped his head in acknowledgement. "You were gone, so I took the initiative."

"Well, don't."

Suddenly, catching a flicker of danger through the Force, both men drew their lightsabers, igniting them as they raced toward the 'fresher. Anakin was only a second slower and right on their heels. Qui-Gon, with his longer stride, reached the door first and shouldered it open.

Amidala, up to her neck in frothy bubbles, reclined in the tub, leaning her head back against the rim. A large and highly poisonous kouhun was creeping on its centipede-like legs toward her face, another toward the foot she had draped across the far rim. Before the Senator could do little more than gather air for a scream, Obi-Wan shoved past Qui-Gon and made quick work of the one about to sink its deadly fangs into her cheek, while the older man took care of the second. She grabbed a towel and clutched it to her as she sat up.

Seeing a movement at the window, Obi-Wan smashed it with his elbow. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent a homing device retrieved from his belt sailing. Its magnetized surface latched onto the small droid that was speeding away. But Obi-Wan was already racing from the room.

"Stay with her, Anakin," Qui-Gon ordered as he turned to follow his former padawan.

The bright red speeder darted through the heavy lines of traffic, drawing rude gestures from the other drivers as they sounded their warning horns. In the passenger seat, Qui-Gon braced an arm against the dashboard, trying desperately to keep from being thrown about by Obi-Wan's wild piloting. He glanced down at the datapad in his other hand.

"It's heading toward the entertainment district," he told his companion as he cross-referenced the tracking signal with satellite mapping data.

Obi-Wan nodded briefly, then glanced over his left shoulder. Apparently spying a break, he suddenly tilted the craft ninety degrees and shot in between two slow moving mass transports.

Qui-Gon ducked his head in alarm as he felt his hair brushing the side of the passing ship. "Obi-Wan! Don't forget, I'm taller than you!"

"Sorry," the young man said under his breath, his concentration never wavering. A moment later, they were through and he righted the vehicle. "Now which way?"

"Down," Qui-Gon replied, consulting the tracker. "Head northeast."

Obi-Wan guided the craft into the lower levels, flicking on the illuminators as the tall buildings filtered out the natural daylight. His eyes were constantly moving, scanning for a glimpse of the droid they were pursuing. At last, he pointed. "There it is."

"Slow down," Qui-Gon ordered. "Maybe it will lead us to the assassin."

Obi-Wan threw him a scowling glance, but complied. He merged with the flow of traffic and followed the droid at a discreet distance.

"There," the Jedi master indicated with a jerk of his chin. "On that ledge."

A fast looking speeder was parked beside a lighted advertising board, the silhouette of a feminine figure moving back and forth next to it. The droid came to a stop beside her and hovered there.

Obi-Wan eased in the direction of their target. "Take the controls."

"What are you going to do?" Qui-Gon asked, one hand grabbing the control stick. His brow knit with concern as he watched Obi-Wan unbuckle his safety belt. Suddenly, the harsh ping! of blaster fire echoed against the buildings around them.

The assassin had spotted them. She took a few more shots at them before she leapt in to her vehicle and fled.

"Gun it!" Obi-Wan urged, drawing his feet up under him in the seat. "Get me alongside!"

Qui-Gon pushed the vehicle to its limits as he fought to bring them in range of the other speeder. As they drew alongside, he saw Obi-Wan stand up and ignite his lightsaber. Blaster fire rang out again. Obi- Wan anticipated the shots and skillfully deflected them back into the assassin's engine block. A look of panic crossed the woman's face as her vehicle lost power and began to plummet toward the surface below.

Qui-Gon followed her down, and Obi-Wan leaned out the side of the speeder as the master searched for a place to land.

"She's in one piece," the knight observed, then added a moment later, "She's gone into that bar. Quick, set us down."

"I'm looking for a spot," the Jedi master replied.

"You can park illegally, Qui-Gon. I'm quite sure the situation warrants it."

In the past, he would have taken the young man's words as subtle teasing. But, now, given the state of things between them, he wasn't so sure. "Yes, I know. However, if can find a suitable place, the owner stands a much greater chance of recovering this vehicle unscathed."

"Fine. I'll meet you inside." The young man vaulted over the door and dropped to the thoroughfare thirty meters below.

"Damn it!" Qui-Gon cursed under his breath, then quickly found a spot that could accommodate his vehicle. A ground-eating trot carried him to the garish entrance of the bar. Obi-Wan, to his credit, waited just inside. "Have you seen her?"

"Not yet, but she's in here," Obi-Wan said quietly, his eyes scanning the crowd. Then, he moved off.

"Where are you going?" Qui-Gon asked. He was rewarded with a condescending glance.

"For a drink."

Leaving him, Qui-Gon slipped into the crowd and began to patrol the perimeter of the large bar. It was dominated by huge viewscreens displaying sporting events from around the galaxy. The patrons noisily rooted for their teams, throwing down credits as they placed their bets.

"Ohhh, Jedi," a young Twi'lek purred as she cozied up to him, her hand going straight to his groin. "Care for some company?"

The Jedi master shook his head and tried to disengage her hand from its intimate exploration of him. "No, thank you."

"You sure? I bet you've never had a Twi'lek birthpair, have you? My sister, she's just over there," the woman indicated with a twist of her head. "Two for the price of one. Just because you're a Jedi, of course."

"I am honored, but I must refuse, all the same." Qui-Gon finally managed to fend off her physical advances. "Perhaps another - "

A whisper of warning in the Force drew his attention. He turned and drew his lightsaber. Across the room, Obi-Wan stood at the bar, a drink in his hand. He was looking at Qui-Gon, a dark frown on his face. Obviously, he had observed the older man's encounter with the Twi'lek. Just as obviously, he was distracted from the matter at hand. For behind him, a woman was approaching stealthily, her blaster at the ready.

Padawan! Qui-Gon called out across their long dormant bond. A split second later, the young knight whirled, his blade slashing over his shoulder and downward in a coolly elegant move. A startled gasp erupted from the onlookers as the assassin's forearm dropped to the floor, the blaster still clutched in the severed hand's grasp.

"Out of my way. Jedi business," Qui-Gon said brusquely as he weaved his way through the crowd. A moment later, he was at Obi-Wan's side, the fallen woman at their feet.

"I do hope I'm not interfering with your socializing," Obi-Wan chided him caustically.

Qui-Gon pointedly ignored him. He crouched and helped the woman to her feet, drawing her good arm over his shoulders as he guided her towards the entrance. He did not have to look to see if Obi-Wan was following him, for he could feel the frustration emanating off him.

Once they were outside, he lowered the groaning woman to the hard surface of the walkway. Obi-Wan knelt on the other side of her.

"Do you know who it was you were trying to kill?" Obi-Wan asked, a frown drawing his brows together.

"The Senator from Naboo," she replied hoarsely.

"Who hired you?" Qui-Gon asked her, his voice low and gentle. "Tell us."

"It was just a job," she gasped, her hand reaching toward her severed limb.

"This is very important," he said. "Tell us."

"It was a bounty hunter named -"

An odd whoosh was the only warning they had before a dart pierced the assassin's neck. With a startled gasp, she died. Her features melted and changed into a strangely reptilian cast. As one, the Jedi turned in the direction from which the dart had come. An armored man with a rocket pack soared away, quickly obscured by the lines of crossing traffic.

"Damn it!" Obi-Wan muttered, rising to his feet to watch the departing killer. He propped his fists on his hips.

Qui-Gon plucked the dart from her graying flesh. He turned it over in his hand, being mindful of the sharp and poisonous end that glistened with the changeling's blood. "A Kaminoan toxic dart."

"You know it?" Obi-Wan asked as Qui-Gon rose, still studying the dart.

"Yes. But I've never seen one this far into the settled territories. It's favored by bounty hunters from the area of the Richi Maze, near the Outer Rim." With care, he tucked it into a pouch on his utility belt.

"Kamino," Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, stroking his bearded chin. "I've never heard of it."

"It may hold some answers. Let's go."

As they stepped aboard the ship that had been provided, Obi-Wan glanced at the open doorway that led to the only bedroom, then to the small, lumpy sleep couch. He dropped his duffel to the deck. "I'll sleep out here. The couch is too short for you. You take the bed."

"That's not necessary -"

"Haven't you had enough of being a martyr?" the knight snapped, his eyes blazing. He snatched Qui-Gon's pack and carried it into the bedroom.

"We need to talk."

"We have a mission," Obi-Wan replied from the bedroom. "The only thing we need to talk about is which of us is piloting."

He heard Qui-Gon sigh.

"I'll do it," the master said. "You haven't had time yet to recover from your last mission."

Qui-Gon stepped into the cockpit and got them underway. On the Council's orders, they were headed to Kamino in search of the bounty hunter responsible for the attack on Amidala.

The knight elected to take a sonic shower, intent on ridding himself of the last traces of dust from Ramina Prime. He emerged to find Qui- Gon seated at the small comm station. The master turned in his seat, his eyes briefly scanning Obi-Wan's bare chest and tousled hair. Obi- Wan ignored him, moving instead to dig through his duffel in search of a comb.

He could still feel the weight of Qui-Gon's stare, his Force presence strong in the small room, but he didn't know the man had moved until he felt a gentle finger tracing the ragged scar that ran diagonally across the small of his back.

"This must have been a serious wound," Qui-Gon said softly, his fingertip stopping on the top of Obi-Wan's light workout pants. "How did you get it?"

Obi-Wan pulled a set of worn house slippers from his bag. "A civil war on Terrista, although it was anything but civil."

"Why did you keep it? Surely the healers could have -"

"They could have removed it," Obi-Wan said, turning to look up into eyes that were still as blue as he remembered. He struggled to dampen down the beginnings of arousal. Damn, but this man was still as appealing as he had been to a young, na‹ve padawan. "I didn't want them to."

He saw Qui-Gon preparing to ask why, and pushed past him, stepping into his slippers. "I was surprised that the Council sent Anakin to Naboo alone, and even that the Senator agreed to go into hiding at all. Surely Anakin hasn't had much opportunity for solo missions."

"He hasn't," Qui-Gon replied, allowing Obi-Wan to change the subject. "We've been stuck on Dagobah for his entire padawanship. He's never been on a mission, let alone a solo one."

"He seems capable. Not that I would know. He was only with me for a few days, after all."

"Even so, I don't like the idea of the Council sending him off alone."

Obi-Wan, who had been turned half away, suddenly spun on his heel. "Oh? Did you argue with them about it? Obviously not hard enough. And how hard did you argue, I wonder, when they decided to deceive me? Did you ever once consider how I would feel, believing I had failed you, and that you died because of it?"

"Yes, I argued with them!" Qui-Gon said, stepping closer. "But this was necessary!"

"Necessary?" Obi-Wan echoed in amazement.

"I told them it was an incredibly cruel thing to do, and that there was no reason to keep you in the dark. I argued until my voice was raw, but it did no good!"

"You defy the Council all the time! Why did you choose to obey them then?" He shook his head, not wanting to know. "Let's drop it, all right?" He moved to step past Qui-Gon, heading for the cockpit, but the master caught him by the arm and halted him. Obi-Wan spun and tried to jerk his arm away. Instead of releasing him, Qui-Gon slammed him against the nearest bulkhead and pinned him there with his body weight.

"Stop running from me!" Qui-Gon growled.

The nearness of the man he had adored for half his life sparked a fire in Obi-Wan's blood. Images from his recurring dream flashed into his mind; himself, face down on the bed, while Qui-Gon pounded into him from behind, whispering endearments in his ear. He tried to shove Qui-Gon away, struggling against the larger man's greater strength. "Get off me, Qui-Gon!"

"No." The Jedi master pressed in even closer.

Anger flared as Obi-Wan felt himself helplessly pinned. "Take your hands off me, or so help me, I'll break your fucking neck!"

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes, but applied more pressure, bringing his hips into contact with Obi-Wan's pelvis. The knight licked his lips, his breath coming in quick gasps, but he stopped struggling as Qui- Gon rocked his hardening flesh against him.

"I said," Obi-Wan hissed softly, "get off me."

"No," Qui-Gon growled again as he leaned down and captured Obi-Wan's mouth in a powerfully raw kiss.

Obi-Wan returned it, deepening it, entwining his tongue with his former master's. Then, he broke away and tried again to shove Qui-Gon backwards. "You still do not have permission to touch me!"

"I didn't ask for it," Qui-Gon said. He pressed forward again, using his size to his advantage, and slid both hands into Obi-Wan's leggings, cupping his bare ass.

Oh, Force, it felt good! How long had he dreamed of this, of having this man's hands on him, controlling him, loving him? Still, beneath his arousal, his anger raged.

"Oh, so that's what you want, is it?" Obi-Wan said challengingly, though his own cock was erect and straining for freedom. "You think you're man enough to take me?"

"I have no doubt of it."

Qui-Gon shoved the knight's leggings down, dropping them to puddle at their feet, and ground his pelvis against Obi-Wan's. The knight gasped as the rough fabric of Qui-Gon's tunic grated against the sensitive underside of his engorged cock. With a growl, he reached up and grabbed a handful of Qui-Gon's hair. He jerked the taller man's head down and nipped his lower lip before kissing him deeply, thrusting his tongue into Qui-Gon's mouth.

Qui-Gon tightened his grip. Obi-Wan knew he would have bruises on his ass by morning, but he didn't care. He released Qui-Gon's hair as the master reached down and tugged at his lacings, freeing his own erection. Qui-Gon whirled him around and pressed him face first against the wall, rubbing his hard cock against Obi-Wan's cleft. The knight hissed, pressing back against him, his body taking over to get what it wanted.

"Do it!" Obi-Wan yelled.

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

A dampened finger touched Obi-Wan's opening, but the younger man squirmed, in no mood for gentle preparation. "No! Just do it, damn you! Fuck me!"

Qui-Gon reached around, stroking the head of Obi-Wan's cock and using the pre-cum to lubricate his own. The knight closed his eyes as the huge invader penetrated him, grunting softly at the pain. Qui-Gon halted, giving him a moment to adjust.

Obi-Wan pressed back against him impatiently. "Fuck me, damn it!" he shouted, and Qui-Gon shoved forward, impaling Obi-Wan completely.

"Force, yes!" Obi-Wan gasped, leaning forward until his forehead was pressed against the cold wall. He'd wanted this for so long, had dreamed of it so often, and yet the reality was better than any dream. He reached over his shoulder and once again caught a handful of long, silvered hair, pulling Qui-Gon's face down against the side of his neck. Accepting the invitation, the older man began to kiss and nibble the sensitive skin there, making Obi-Wan tremble as he slowly withdrew and pounded in again.

Without proper lube, the friction as Qui-Gon began to thrust felt as if it were abrading the tissues inside him. He imagined that Qui-Gon was in some pain, as well, but the older man certainly wasn't complaining.

Obi-Wan reached down to grasp the erection that curled up against his stomach, but Qui-Gon got there first and enclosed it in a large fist. With a grunt of pleasure, Obi-Wan pushed forward into that hand then backward onto the cock impaling him. "Harder!"

Qui-Gon deepened his strokes, driving hard and fast into the body in front of him, and Obi-Wan gasped as the master changed the angle slightly, raking his prostate.

"Faster, damn it!" he growled.

Qui-Gon obeyed, speeding his rhythm. He tightened the hand around Obi- Wan's cock, increasing the friction as the young man continued to pump into his fist, and slid his other hand up the knight's sweat- slicked chest until he found a nipple. He pinched it hard between his fingers as he continued to kiss his way up Obi-Wan's neck. Reaching his ear, he growled, "I'm going to come inside you," and he sank his teeth into the earlobe.

With a cry like a wounded animal, Obi-Wan came, splattering his seed over the metal bulkhead. Qui-Gon followed him over the edge a second later, his cock pulsing inside Obi-Wan's tightening passage. Exhausted and sated, both men slid to their knees.

For long moments, neither man moved. Qui-Gon, his hands still loosely gripping Obi-Wan's hips, panted against the back of the younger man's neck. Finally, Qui-Gon's wilting penis slipped free.

Obi-Wan elbowed Qui-Gon off and reached down for his leggings, pulling them up as he rose. His anus throbbed, and he knew they would both be feeling it tomorrow. But, it had been worth it. Now that his body's need had been satisfied, perhaps he could put those old dreams aside. He turned and shot a hard glare down at his former master.

"This changes nothing," he said. Without another word, he slipped into the cockpit and closed the door behind him.

Kamino was a water world. Qui-Gon flew low over churning seas, through a downpour that partially obscured their vision. A landing platform came into view, and he set the ship down with barely a thump. Obi-Wan turned away from the cockpit, slipping into his robe and pulling the hood up to cover his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw his former master rise and do the same.

It was only a short walk to the main doors of the cloning complex, but a miserable one. The rain was as cold as it looked, and it quickly soaked even their rain-resistant outerwear. A door slid open and they stepped inside. Approaching them, gliding more than walking, was a tall, pale-skinned native with large, almond shaped eyes. She bowed gracefully in greeting.

"Welcome to Kamino, Master Jedis," she said in a melodious voice. "We've been expecting you."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to express his surprise, but Qui-Gon - ever the diplomat - beat him to it. "We hope we haven't kept you waiting too long," he said as she ushered them inside.

"Well, it has been several years, but we are grateful that you're here now. I am Taun We. Come. I'll take you to Prime Minister Lama Su. He's anxious to speak to you."

She led them through several long, winding corridors before opening a door into a circular chamber. Behind a desk sat another tall being. "May I present Lama Su, Prime Minister of Kamino," Taun We said with a sweep of her long arms. "And this is Master Jedi . . ."

"Qui-Gon Jinn," the older Jedi said before Obi-Wan could speak. "And this is Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Two chairs lowered from the ceiling and Lama Su waved a hand toward them. When they were comfortable, he said, "I trust you are going to enjoy your stay. And, you will be delighted to hear that we are on schedule. Two hundred thousand units are read, with another million well on the way."

"This is good news," Qui-Gon said, clearly improvising.

"Please tell your Master Sifo-Dyas that we have every confidence his order will be met on time and in full."

"Sifo-Dyas?" Obi-Wan asked.

Lama Su blinked as if puzzled by the question. "Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas is still a leading member of the Jedi Council, is he not?

"Master Sifo-Dyas died a few years ago," Qui-Gon said with a brief sideways glance at Obi-Wan.

"Oh, dear. That's a pity. Still, I'm certain he would be pleased with what we have accomplished. But, you must be anxious to inspect the units for yourselves."

Obi-Wan spread his hands. "That's why we're here."

They followed the two Kaminoans to a balcony above a huge parade ground. Thousands of armored storm troopers march in formation below them.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" Lama Su said proudly.

Obi-Wan nodded, though the sight made the hair on the back of his neck rise. He noticed the look on Qui-Gon's face and knew the older man was feeling much the same. Lama Su led them through a large dining hall, where hundreds of clones, all identical, were seated at tables, eating.

"We modified their genetic structure to allow for extensive growth acceleration and to make them less independent that the original host," the Prime Minister explained. "They are totally obedient, taking any order without question."

"Who was the original host?" Obi-Wan asked.

"A bounty hunter called Jango Fett."

Qui-Gon looked up at that, eyebrows on the rise. "And, where is this bounty hunter now?"

"Oh, we keep him here. Aside from his pay, which is considerable, he demanded only one thing - an unaltered clone for himself. Curious, isn't it?"

"We would very much like to meet this Jango Fett," Qui-Gon said.

"I would be most happy to arrange it for you," Taun We said.

A short while later, Taun We escorted the Jedi to the bounty hunter's apartment. She ran a muted bell and a young boy opened it.

"Boba, is your father here?" the Kaminoan asked. At the boy's nod, she continued, "May we see him?"

"Sure." The boy led them inside. When they reached the main room, Jango Fett stood waiting for them. He sized the Jedi up with a calculating look and then settled on Obi-Wan.

"Welcome back, Jango," Taun We said. "Was your trip productive?"

"Fairly," the bounty hunter said, his gaze locked with Obi-Wan's.

"You were on a trip?" the Jedi asked. "May I ask to where?"

"You can ask," Jango said, but said nothing more.

"Your clones are very impressive, Qui-Gon said. "You must be very proud."

Jango's gaze barely flickered to him before returning to Obi- Wan. "I'm just a simple man, trying to make my way in the universe."

"Ever make your was as far into the interior as Coruscant?" Obi-Wan asked, letting his eyes study the contour of the man's face, the obvious muscles rippling under his simple jumpsuit. He looked back up to see Jango giving him the once over, as well.

"Once or twice," Jango said noncommittally.

"Recently?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice a bit too sharp.

"Possibly," Jango said, his dark eyes flitting to meet Qui-Gon's briefly. He looked back at Obi-Wan, his interest in the smaller Jedi easy to read. "So, do you like your army?"

"They're very impressive," Obi-Wan said, letting his voice take on a husky quality.

Jango licked his lips slightly. "They'll do their job well, I'll guarantee that."

Obi-Wan nodded and let his gaze run down Jango's form again, taking careful note of the growing bulge at his groin. "I look forward to seeing them in action," he said softly, looking up from under lowered lashes.

Beside him, Qui-Gon cleared his throat noisily. "Thank you for your time, Jango," he said."

The bounty hunter stared straight at Obi-Wan, his pupils darkening with arousal. "Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi. Perhaps we will meet again, privately, Jedi Kenobi, to discuss - things."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I'll look forward to it." A hand on his arm made him turn. Qui-Gon was frowning slightly, his posture stiff.

"We've taken up enough of his time, Obi-Wan. We should be going."

Obi-Wan's eyes flickered back to meet Jango's briefly. "Of course." With an elegant bow, he excused himself and followed Qui-Gon out the door. Nothing more was said until they had said their good-byes to Lama Su and were heading back toward the landing pad.

"What the devil were you doing back there?" Qui-Gon demanded angrily as they crossed the landing pad. "He's a bounty hunter, for Force' sake, and probably the one who's trying to kill Senator Amidala. You looked like you were flirting with him!"

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me what to do, Qui-Gon. Or who to fuck."

Qui-Gon's face tightened. "So, you were flirting!"

"That's my business," Obi-Wan snapped. A tingle of warning sizzled up his spine, and he whirled, pulling out his lightsaber and igniting it in one swift movement. He swung it to the left, narrowing intercepting a small projectile aimed at Qui-Gon's back. It disintegrated, but a second followed a split second later, this time aimed at him. He caught this one on the tip of his 'saber and deflected it. It fell, smoking, against the wall, and Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of it. It was a poison dart just like the one who had killed the changeling on Coruscant.

Qui-Gon had his 'saber in hand now, it's hum somehow comforting in the sudden silence of the hallway. By silent agreement, they sprinted back down the hall, chasing the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. Finally, they reached another landing pad. A ship sat in the center, it's engines already warming up. Jango Fett, dressed in an armored suit, stood outside, tossing one of two cases up to his son, who was already in the ship.

"Dad!" the boy yelled, pointing at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as they raced through the downpour toward the ship, lightsabers blazing. Jango drew his gun and fired at them, but the shots were easily deflected.

The Jedi split up, Obi-Wan going to his left in an effort to draw Jango's fire while Qui-Gon worked his way behind him. But Jango did not allow himself to be caught in the middle. Using the rocket pack attached to his suit, he shot up and over Obi-Wan's head, firing more of the deadly darts toward the Jedi. Obi-Wan ducked, his 'saber little more than a blur as he struggled to block them.

The sound of laser fire from behind him caught his attention for a split second. Jango's son was firing the ship's weapons at Qui-Gon. The older man was fending off the attack well, but Obi-Wan's split focus proved his undoing as the bounty hunter fired a thin wire from his wrist pack.

It wrapped around Obi-Wan's wrists, binding his hands together. Two more poison darts streaked toward him, and Obi-Wan barely managed to deflect them. A twist of his wrist later, the wire ensnaring him was severed, and he struggled to pull his hands free as Jango rocketed over him again. The continuous laser fire from behind him signaled Qui-Gon's fight, and a hastily deflected blast pinged off the pavement near Obi-Wan's feet. Meanwhile, Jango was still firing his deadly projectiles.

In a desperate move, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, tugging a two-meter long strut loose from the platform's railing. It struck Jango Fett a glancing blow, knocking his helmet off, and sent him skittering across the deck on his back. Another deflected laser bolt streaked over Obi-Wan's shoulder. It missed Obi-Wan by a good half meter, but struck the bounty hunter square in the throat. With a gargled yell, he collapsed.

The firing from the ship halted, and a muffled scream of despair could be heard. "Father, no!"

Obi-Wan glanced up at Qui-Gon as the older man trotted to his side. Despite the sodden mass of hair that partially obscured his face, the master was clearly unhappy as he gazed down at the fallen bounty hunter. Obi-Wan glanced behind him and looked through the cockpit window. Jango's young son Boba was visible. The boy was crying, but he quickly disappeared from view. The engine noise increased, and the Slave 1 lifted off. Deactivating his 'saber, Obi-Wan bent over and put his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.

"Blast!" he muttered. "Our only lead is gone."

"Cursing the past does not serve the present," Qui-Gon said softly. "And, by the way, thank you."

Obi-Wan straightened, looking at him in puzzlement. "For what, exactly?"

"You saved my life back there," Qui-Gon said in a gentle tone that held more than a hint of admiration, "when you blocked the dart aimed at me. You've become a very fine knight. Your reflexes and your grasp of the Force are to be commended."

Obi-Wan allowed himself a small smile, some of his anger and frustration dissipating. "I am only what you made me."

The Jedi Master reached out to clasp his shoulder. "Would that I could take credit for it. But, your abilities have developed far beyond what I taught you."

Obi-Wan bowed his head in humble acknowledgment of the older man's words. Then, he looked up and said decisively, "Come. We should contact the Council and advise them of these events. Then, we can go to Naboo to join Anakin there." With that, he brushed past the taller man and headed for their ship.

Senator put them up in grand style, in two large, well-appointed suites with an adjoining balcony. The view from there was spectacular, and Obi-Wan could not resist kneeling there on a soft throw rug, gazing out at the gardens and the mountains in the distance. After a time, his jumbled thoughts settled and he sank into a soothing and badly needed meditation.

He did not know how much time had passed when he first felt the touch of Qui-Gon's mind. Their training bond, only recently reawakened, hummed with contentment and Obi-Wan experienced a sense of completion that had long been missing from his life.

Master, he breathed silently into their bond, letting the man's Force presence wash over him. It felt better than even the warm Naboo sunlight that bathed his face. I'm so tired.

Rest, then, my padawan, Qui-Gon instructed softly. I will watch over you.

I don't want to be angry anymore.

Then, let it go, Obi-Wan, the Jedi master whispered into his mind. Just let go.

Obi-Wan fought valiantly, but at last a strangled sob of release broke free. I don't think I can, he sent.

I am here. Qui-Gon's voice echoed in his mind, as reassuring now as it had been when Obi-Wan was just a boy. The knight opened his eyes, staring into the incredibly blue ones just inches away. Qui-Gon was wearing an expression of warmth and acceptance, and Obi-Wan felt a lump grow in his throat when the older man finished his statement out loud. "I will not leave you again."

Obi-Wan felt himself smile, and Qui-Gon, kneeling in front of him, reached out to stroke his clean-shaven face, one fingertip trailing lightly into the cleft of his chin.

"You shaved." At Obi-Wan's nod, the master continued. "You look much like you did ten years ago."

"I've changed a lot since then. Grief will do that."

Infinite sadness seemed to radiate from Qui-Gon's blue eyes. "I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan." When he would have continued, Obi-Wan reached up and pressed a finger to his lips.

"Let's not speak of that now."

"As you wish."

Obi-Wan got to his feet and walked to the railing, gazing out over the lush countryside. "That time - on the ship - when we -" He broke off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Finally, he gave up and turned to face the man he'd loved half his life. "I was so angry then, so full of rage and resentment. And yet, I wanted it so badly. Needed it."

"I will try to give you whatever you need, from now on."

The knight digested that, then looked up challengingly. "When you spoke to me that night, ten years ago, you said something else. Do you remember?"

"Like it was yesterday. I asked you to wait for me," Qui-Gon said, his voice whisper soft.

"I have, you know." Obi-Wan felt a little color rise in his cheeks. "There have been others, but mostly strangers, people I'd never meet again. Never anyone I cared about. It was always just sex, just a release. Not like -"

"Not like what?" Qui-Gon asked when he didn't continue.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Nothing," he said, rising and turning toward the glass doors into his room.

"Would you consent to have dinner with me tonight?"

Obi-Wan turned, gazing at Qui-Gon, who had not moved from his kneeling position. After a moment, the knight pushed aside his suspicion and nodded. "I'd like that." As he slid the door shut behind him, he was surprised to realize that he meant it.

The candlelight flickered invitingly over the elegantly set table. Crystal and china, silver and fine linens. The placement of the table, before the double glass doors that opened onto the balcony, afforded a splendid view of the lake and the mountains. A cool breeze blew in, stirring the flames in the grand stone fireplace nearby. All was in place, just as the Queen had promised. Qui-Gon nodded, satisfied.

When he had gone to Amidala for assistance, the young woman's eyes had twinkled knowingly as he explained his request.

"I'll take care of everything," she said. "And I'll go you one better. You'll find more appropriate attire in your room tonight. If one is to be a seducer, one must look the part."

He ran his hands down his sides, admiring the feel of the fine, midnight blue silk shirt that she had graciously provided. It had four buttons down the front, the top one open to extend the deep vee revealing the sprinkling of hairs on his upper chest. He had opted to wear his Jedi leggings, but his feet were bare against the soft carpet.

A knock at the door drew Qui-Gon's attention. When he opened the door, he was not surprised to find Obi-Wan there, dressed in full Jedi garb, even to the dark brown robe on his shoulders.

"Good evening. Please, come in." He stepped aside and gestured with one hand. Obi-Wan moved into the room, his eyes quickly scanning his environment, before settling on the table in the alcove. A look of dawning realization passed over his face.

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, then looked back at Qui-Gon. "It smells delicious. What's for dinner?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Come and see."

They made their way to the table and seated themselves on the low benches on either side. Qui-Gon began removing the lids from the covered silver serving bowls, watching Obi-Wan's expression as each steaming dish was revealed.

"Ribarian beef with mushrooms, Greggorial pheasant in plum sauce, stir fried mortinsi rice." Obi-Wan's eyes rose to meet Qui-Gon's as he named off the entrees. "These are all my favorites."

Qui-Gon reached for the bottle of wine and poured his companion a glass, a quiet smile playing at his lips. "I know."

The meal passed in relative silence, broken only by the clink of silverware against the china, and Obi-Wan's occasional murmurs of approval. When the last bite was consumed, Qui-Gon replenished their glasses and leaned back in his chair. Obi-Wan did not meet his gaze. Instead, he studied the distant mountains and the sun that was sinking slowly behind them.

After several long moments of silence, Obi-Wan picked up the linen napkin in his lap and dropped it on the table as he rose from his chair. "Thank you for dinner. I should be leaving."

Damn it, Jinn, you're too subtle sometimes, Qui-Gon thought as he rose quickly, one hand reaching out to lightly capture Obi-Wan's elbow. The knight turned to face him, a look of inquiry on his face.

"Don't go."

The Jedi master took a half step closer, his hands moving up to capture Obi-Wan's face between his palms. He gazed deeply into the stormy green eyes, one thumb tracing the smooth shaven jaw line, as he gave Obi-Wan every opportunity to back away. When he didn't, Qui-Gon kissed him.

It was a slow kiss, a light one, his lips gentle as they pressed against his former padawan's warm, dry ones. He broke it off finally, withdrawing only slightly, to gaze down into that handsome face. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then Obi-Wan's gaze dropped to Qui-Gon's mouth. He parted his lips slightly in subtle invitation.

Qui-Gon didn't need to be asked twice.

He moved in for another kiss, this one longer, still holding the knight's face as softly as if it were made of the finest porcelain. He flicked the tip of his tongue against the curve of Obi-Wan's upper lip. The young man's mouth opened a bit more in response. Qui-Gon breathed in the other man's soft sigh, feeling Obi-Wan step forward until their chests were touching.

Qui-Gon shifted one hand, letting a fingertip tickle the sensitive skin beneath the knight's left ear. Obi-Wan shivered in his arms, as he had hoped. Taking his companion's hands, he backed slowly toward the fire, stopping only when his ankle bumped the strategically placed pillows scattered there.

He kissed him again, pouring himself into it; his heartfelt apology, his contrition over all the years Obi-Wan had suffered, and every ounce of love and desire that he had ever felt for him. He felt Obi-Wan's hands come up to settle at his waist, the fingertips soon tracing light patterns as they explored the soft texture of the fabric. Obi-Wan was flushed, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, when they parted at last.

"You look warm," Qui-Gon said. "May I help you with your robe?"

Obi-Wan nodded silently. Qui-Gon slipped the garment from his shoulders, lowering it slowly to the small of Obi-Wan 's back. With a tug on either side, he pulled Obi-Wan closer, bringing their groins into contact for the first time. He could feel Obi-Wan 's arousal, a silent confirmation that, at least for now, the young man shared his interest.

Qui-Gon took a step back as he released one side of the robe, pulling it free and folding it in half before tossing it aside.

This time, Obi-Wan initiated the kiss. The young man reached up and slipped one hand behind Qui-Gon's neck, drawing him down so that their lips touched again. His free hand moved around Qui-Gon's waist, settling for a moment on the upper slopes of his buttocks, before sliding underneath his shirt. The moment Obi-Wan encountered bare skin, his fingers tightened in Qui-Gon's hair, drawing a groan from the Jedi master as he was pinned in place.

The briefest touch of Obi-Wan 's tongue served as a promise of things to come as the young man stepped back out of his arms. Qui-Gon watched with interest, his pulse quickening, as Obi-Wan unfastened his utility belt and let it fall to the floor. His sash quickly followed.

Qui-Gon could not remain still any longer. With gentle hands, he grasped the front of his companion's stolla. He lifted it over Obi-Wan's head, allowing it to drop behind him.

Obi-Wan parted his tunics, preparing to shrug out of them, but Qui-Gon took over. He stroked his palms across the warm skin of knight's chest as he removed them. Bare from the waist up, Obi-Wan's skin glistened in the flickering firelight. Qui-Gon could not resist touching him. His fingers traced the contours of the young man's fit torso and he smiled in appreciation as Obi-Wan reached up and began unbuttoning the dark blue shirt.

As soon as the garment was removed, Obi-Wan drew Qui-Gon in for another kiss. The master allowed himself to be pulled down to the pillows, but Obi-Wan didn't stop there. Stretching out on his back, he pulled the larger man on top of him, still holding the kiss. They rocked their hips together, Qui-Gon grinding down against the smaller body beneath him. The friction of coarse fabric against sensitized flesh was almost unbearable.

Obi-Wan broke the kiss breathlessly, then murmured, "Want you."

Qui-Gon's arousal level shot through the roof at hearing those words from this man. He backed off, rising to his knees. With practiced hands, he unbuckled Obi-Wan 's boots and tugged them off, tossing them over one shoulder as Obi-Wan untied his own lacings. Qui-Gon assisted him by catching the waistband and stripping the leggings off.

Obi-Wan's cock sprang free, fully engorged and already seeping at the tip. The master resisted the urge to taste, instead rising to his feet and unfastening his own leggings. His eyes locked on Obi-Wan's face, watching him moisten his lips as Qui-Gon finished undressing. Naked at last, he rejoined his companion on the pillows. Immediately, he enclosed Obi-Wan's hardness in his hand, feeling the other arch up into his grip.

"Yes!" Obi-Wan hissed, his breath coming faster.

Qui-Gon traced the pad of his thumb over the silken head, spreading the tiny pearl of pre-cum. He encircled it with his thumb and forefinger, moving ever so slightly against the sensitive corona.

"More," Obi-Wan pleaded softly.

Qui-Gon tightened his grip and began moving his palm up and down the hardened length. A little smile played at Qui-Gon's mouth as his companion's eyes rolled back in his head.

"Force, 's good," Obi-Wan muttered, lifting his hips and meeting Qui-Gon's movements.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan grabbed his wrist and made him release his hold. The knight pushed against his chest, forcing him nto his back. A mouth settled over his, demanding entry. Qui-Gon groaned as an agile tongue slid inside, then again as Obi-Wan's hand cupped his sac. The young man did not linger there, but moved his palm up the length of Qui-Gon's engorged cock.

Obi-Wan tightened his grip and began stroking firmly, thrusting his tongue rhythmically, a seductive imitation of the act yet to come. He broke the kiss and slid down Qui-Gon's body, taking the head of his penis into his mouth.

At the first touch, Qui-Gon felt his control slipping. He thrust upward with a gasp, but Obi-Wan went with the motion, not allowing him to get deeper. Instead, his callused hand stroked the lower part of Qui-Gon's shaft as he continued his erotic torture of the more sensitive upper portion.

Over and over, he swirled his tongue around the head, then suckled, first hard, then softly, until Qui-Gon thought he would go mad. With an aggressive growl, he grabbed a fistful of hair and thrust upwards.

Immediately, Obi-Wan released him. Qui-Gon froze, fearing he had gone too far, but the other man crawled up over him and straddled his hips.

"Lube?" Obi-Wan asked softly. Qui-Gon's hands fumbled beneath the pillows for a moment before retrieving the bottle. He silently handed it to his companion, then dropped his palms to rest lightly on Obi-Wan's thighs.

Obi-Wan popped open the cap and squeezed some of the substance onto his fingers. He quickly coated Qui-Gon's penis with the coolness, then tossed the bottle away. He rose up onto his knees and guided the hard length to his opening. With a strangled hiss, he impaled himself.

For a moment, both men froze. Then, Obi-Wan began to move, rising and falling on Qui-Gon's cock with increasing rapidity. Fearing that his companion would reach climax too quickly, Qui-Gon decided to take control.

He flipped them over once again and braced himself on his extended arms. He withdrew slightly, then pressed back in, slowly raking across Obi-Wan's prostate. The knight gasped and Qui-Gon halted, before withdrawing once more.

Another long, slow, deep thrust, another rake across the prostate, and Obi-Wan's hands clenched in the pillows by his side, his head thrown back. Qui-Gon could not resist the exposed column of his neck. He leaned down and began nipping lightly at the corded tendons Obi-Wan's movements had produced.

"More," Obi-Wan moaned as he tightened his legs around Qui-Gon's hips.

The Jedi master pushed back up onto his hands and continued his measured assault. If this was the only apology he was ever allowed to make, the only one Obi-Wan would ever listen to, it had to be perfect. He wanted this to last, to create a memory that would overshadow all the anger and hurt that had come before. He wanted to give Obi-Wan... everything.

Obi-Wan's cock rubbed against his abdomen as he thrust slowly in and out. Qui-Gon could feel the moist evidence of his arousal beginning to coat their skin.

"Please!" Obi-Wan urged, his hands scrabbling for purchase on Qui-Gon's hips. "Harder!"

Qui-Gon increased the speed and strength of his movements. Obi-Wan groaned his approval, lifting his hips more vigorously to encourage even deeper penetration. The master was driving in hard now, scooting Obi-Wan and the pillows on which he lay every closer to the fire with each powerful thrust.

A drop of sweat fell from Qui-Gon's temple and landed on Obi-Wan's right nipple. The young man gasped, then lifted his head to look down at it. Qui-Gon followed his gaze to where they were intimately joined.

The knight's hand moved in between them. He took his own cock in hand and began stroking himself feverishly. The image of Obi-Wan stimulating himself coupled with the sight of his penis moving in and out of that supple body sent Qui-Gon's blood pressure skyrocketing. Of its own volition, his body increased the tempo once again.

Obi-Wan began a litany of encouragement. "Yes, yes, oh Force! Yes!"

Qui-Gon felt control slipping away as his breathing became ragged, his movements more frantic and disjointed as he drove towards completion. Beneath him, Obi-Wan tensed, his heels digging into the straining muscles at the back of Qui-Gon's thighs. A moment later, a hot splash against his stomach signaled Obi-Wan's release.

"Master!" the young man shouted his pleasure as his body convulsed around Qui-Gon's cock.

The sound of that word, long unspoken by the man beneath him, pushed Qui-Gon over the edge. He slammed into him once, twice, before his body erupted. The white-hot force of his completion caused his brain to gray out for a long moment. He collapsed forward onto Obi-Wan and lay there, panting, his breath mingling with the other man's.

"I love you," Qui-Gon whispered, one hand moving up to toy lightly with Obi-Wan's hair. The knight grunted, his only acknowledgment.

Qui-Gon rolled to his side, his limp penis slipping free easily. Obi-Wan lay there with his eyes closed. He did not move for the space of several breaths. Finally, he sat up and scrubbed one hand over his clean shaven jaw, his gaze flickering in Qui-Gon's direction for a moment.

Not uttering a word, he rose and slipped into his leggings. He quickly gathered the rest of his clothes and left without a backward glance.

Watching him go, Qui-Gon felt a deep pang of disappointment. While Obi-Wan had just shared his body with him, there was no assurance that he would be able or willing to share his love.

Once, the passion might have been enough. But deep in his heart, Qui-Gon knew he would always yearn for more.

He sighed deeply. Be satisfied with this, Jinn. Live in the moment and let the future take care of itself.

Somehow, he did not take comfort from the thought.

The End