Maki' began with the details of the Oraclyne's history that the
Healers had omitted the first time they told Qui-Gon about the
Oraclyne. About who made up an Oraclyne, how one was normally
discovered... and made. Through the telling, he continually
emphasized how much of a gift this Oraclyne connection was...
and could be to the Jedi Order and the Republic.
Then he went through what he'd learned since that first
conversation - the information in the archives on the
maintenance of the Oraclyne bond and the stages of its
development. Obi-Wan, he noted, absorbed the information
avidly, while it was apparent that Qui-Gon was listening... not
hearing. The other master's eyes had grown flinty and
suspicious. Maki' could almost hear the man's thoughts: [We are
Diplomats for the Senate, ambassadors and negotiators, not
Healers!]
When Maki' mentioned that the Oraclyne connection in its early
stages could be rather demanding... sexually... on both
Oraclys, Qui-Gon's eyes went dark, his side of his bond with
Obi-Wan positively frozen. He asked his first question then.
"So... did we?"
"No," Obi-Wan answered emphatically before Maki' could. "You
wanted to reverse the imprinting. I refused. You were about to
strike me, but you suddenly left our quarters. I was afraid to
follow you... but later when I found you, you were..."
Maki' finished quickly to spare him having to say it again.
"Engaged in sex with Masters Gi and..."
"They weren't even on Coruscant!" Qui-Gon snapped, interrupting
him. "How could they be there?" Then, as he thought about his
former lovers, he realized the other things. "I cannot feel
them... we have a bond..."
"No more," Maki' explained quietly, though within he was rocked
at the verification of the new holes in the man's memory. [He
does have amnesia; he's not just in denial.] "Please, let me
finish. Qui-Gon, you were in a coma... both of you. Raen and
Jil-Ba came to Coruscant when they felt something wrong in the
bond you held with them. Unfortunately... all other bonds had
to be broken. An Oraclys may have only one." He gestured toward
Obi-Wan, who did not look up. "A group of us broke those bonds
so that Obi-Wan could bring you back. The Oraclyne has a
natural tendency toward healing itself. When one half is
hurting, the other half has a compulsion to heal it. Your other
bonds were in the way."
"Yoda, too..." Qui-Gon murmured, though his eyes were still
cold and dark. He did not look toward his apprentice. "But I am
well now. Can the bonds not be safely re-formed?"
"No. This is as it must be. The Oraclyne connection is the only
one now."
Qui-Gon stood abruptly and walked a couple steps away.
[Unacceptable,] he thought, furious. [I could not have assented
to *this*!] He whirled around and asked, "So that's it? My
padawan and I are chained together in this bond, cursed to
remain imprinted and unable to bond with anyone else? Neither
of us will ever be able to form a training bond ever again? We
are stuck with one another?"
Obi-Wan winced. All his emotional detachment seemed to have
fled in the face of these terribly harsh words. "You did not
consider it such a burden before we landed on Belvin Three," he
couldn't help but murmur sourly.
"You keep quiet," Qui-Gon snapped at him, his tone bitter. "I
am your Master and you will respect me."
Shocked, Obi-Wan hastily replied, "Yes, Master." He froze,
feeling more and more numb again as this nightmare wore on.
[Oh, that this was only a nightmare...]
Maki' regarded the other master with narrowed eyes. "You
yourself assured us that the required intimacy between the two
of you was acceptable to you both. In fact, I know that there
had to have been some intimacy, because the Oraclyne imprinting
has been completed."
Qui-Gon, his hands on his hips again in a challenging gesture,
queried, "Intimacy? What *intimacy*?"
**He apparently does not remember what happened between us on
board the Radiant II enroute to Belvin Three,** Obi-Wan hastily
prompted the Healer. **The love we shared, our kiss - he's
blocked the entire thing out!**
**Patience, Padawan...** Maki' sent to the young man, then
responded aloud, "You kissed him. Deeply. The imprinting
required physical penetration of some sort to be completed."
For a moment, the Master Diplomat froze, and they could imagine
his mind was attempting to grapple with the information.
Obi-Wan had never felt his master's end of their bond so closed
off. **Please, Master, do not shut me out. I love you,
Qui-Gon...** he sent with little hope.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment. The idea that the
Oraclyne was wrong had taken root in his broken mind too
deeply. Everything else had to conform to fit that. Reaching
out for the Force was too painful, for he could not avoid his
padawan's pain in it. Confronted with a truth he could not
reconcile with the few emotions he had left to him, Qui-Gon
Jinn blocked it, prevented it from touching him. He turned and
looked coldly at the Healer. "How long before we can work
apart?"
Maki' gritted his teeth. **Damn you, Qui-Gon, how can you do
this to him?** he sent even as he told himself Qui-Gon wasn't
entirely at fault here. While this denial was not truly a
psychosis, it was nevertheless not mentally healthy, either.
And Obi-Wan would suffer from it.
**Do what?** Qui-Gon shot back, frowning. **You really expect
me to act as if I remember what you tell me? What if he is
lying?**
**He is NOT lying.** Maki' met the other's glare firmly. **I
have been in his mind. I know. You're still suffering from
psychic shock, Qui-Gon. And I'm not going to let you destroy
his heart while you get over it.**
To Qui-Gon's further consternation, the Healer had shared that
thought with Obi-Wan, as well. Now Qui-Gon looked at his
apprentice, though the look he cast him was rather one that
might be cast at a noisome creature, not the other half of
one's soul.
Obi-Wan looked back now, his eyes full of the yearning in his
heart. **Please... beloved Master...**
Something seemed to shift within the Jedi Master Diplomat for
just a moment. His gaze softened, his demeanor relaxing. **I am
sorry, Padawan, but I cannot.** Qui-Gon took a deep breath,
tearing his eyes away. "How long before we can work apart?" he
asked again, but more gently.
Maki' glanced at Obi-Wan, then sighed as he looked at Qui-Gon
again, resigned. "About three months. Until then, you both will
be subject to the urges toward union. As it is, you are already
drawn together. Resist it if you must, Jinn, but I can promise
you that your continued resistance is going to affect your work
and his training. I cannot promise that just waiting this out
is going to work at all. The Oraclyne may *need* this, ah,
union."
"We shall see," Qui-Gon murmured. Fortunately the ire he'd been
displaying now seemed to be dissipated within him. "Is there
anything else we need to know?"
"We're still going through the archives," Maki' told him,
standing. "In fact, I would like to give you two a copy of them
for your own reference."
"We may return to the field?" Qui-Gon asked, wary. "You'll
report as much to the Council?"
Maki' and Obi-Wan exchanged glances. "Yes, with one
stipulation," the Healer replied.
"And that is?" Qui-Gon gestured for his padawan to get to his
feet as well.
"Where-ever you go," Maki' answered calmly, "I am going with
you."
Obi-Wan nearly gasped from relief. **Thank you...** he sent.
"Very well," Qui-Gon acquiesced with a heavy sigh.
[Something has to break eventually,] Obi-Wan told himself a
while later when trying to meditate. Their transport would
arrive in a few hours. Master Healer Windsailor had taken
Qui-Gon to meet the Bajrheni Oraclyne who had waited in another
room nearby, though Qui-Gon had been reluctant. Obi-Wan sought
to regain the emotional detachment that had slipped severely in
the conversation between his master and the Healer. [The
Oraclyne connection will work to bring us together. I must
believe and trust that...]
As Obi-Wan settled at last into a meditative trance, he was
transported again to the spirit-forest. He opened his eyes to
discover himself kneeling in a soft, green glade, the scent of
flowers in the air, a gentle breeze blowing. Then he glanced
aside. He was not alone. Kneeling in the same posture, dressed
in the same white tunics, was his old friend Bant, red-haired
Cerasi of the Melida Young, and... Xanatos, who looked up at
him with serene eyes of ice blue.
"This is a strange meeting," Obi-Wan murmured, thinking for a
moment how ridiculous this particular group of dead people
seemed together. Were they all aspects of himself, then? [At
least there are no draigons, this time,] he sighed. "I know
what Xanatos is to me... what are you two?"
"You know that, Obi," Bant of the large silver eyes said to him
sadly. "And you're wrong about Xani. He's not your evil twin,
as you think he is."
[Xani, now? Hmmmm...] "All right, I'm supposed to guess, is
that it? Is that our game today?"
"Obi-Wan," Cerasi hissed. "We're all here to help you! Pay
attention!"
In an eyeblink they were sitting in a circle with him,
cross-legged, instead of kneeling in a line. Obi-Wan met
Cerasi's glance. "All right. Let me see now... each of you is a
part of me. I must decipher what part that is. I can see we're
going to be meeting more frequently, right?"
Xanatos, his feathery black hair flying about his face, nodded.
"Yes. Whether we are spirits in the Force sent to help you or
segments of your own psyche does not matter, Obi-Wan. But we do
each mean something to you."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I see. Then let me decide what that is." He
looked again at Bant. "You, dearest friend... that's easy. You
represent my own goodness, loyalty, faithfulness, for you were
ever such a friend to me."
"Yes, Obi!" Bant replied, her huge eyes glistening, the wide
slash of her Calamarian mouth crinkled into a smile.
He glanced at Cerasi, who looked back, a challenge in her eyes.
"And you... perhaps you represent my independence. My master
has referred to me before as 'headstrong' - you are that part
of me that is Obi-Wan wanting to stand on his own, be his own
man as I did once on Melida/Daan... and now to be equal to
Qui-Gon as Oraclys. Am I right?"
"You always were quick to catch on, Obi-Wan," the girl grinned
at him.
Soberly Obi-Wan turned to the image of his master's former
padawan. "Xanatos... you know, I've hated you for a long time,"
he sighed even as he reached to take the other man's hand. "My
master suffered so from what happened between you two. But I do
not hate you now. I've accepted you... whatever it is in myself
that you are part of."
Xanatos bent to kiss Obi-Wan's knuckles. "You will need me the
most, I fear," the man whispered gently. He turned Obi-Wan's
hand over in his, then abruptly dropped a kiss in the center of
the palm. Unbidden, a flare of desire surged in the younger
man.
"You're my... passion..." Obi-Wan gasped, understanding now.
"My emotions and desires!"
"Yes, little love," Xanatos murmured, bringing his head up to
peer at him with those beautiful eyes through the wispy veil of
hair. "And more. I will be your lover until he can. I will
guard your feelings for him. You must endure his coldness a
while longer."
With a shock, Obi-Wan realized that this apparition did not
bear the broken circle scar that the original had once
inflicted on himself, enraged by what he'd believed was
Qui-Gon's betrayal. "How... how can you be my *lover*?" he
asked, bewildered and thrilled all at once. Abruptly he saw
they were alone again. "Bant? Cerasi?"
Suddenly he found himself lying on the ground. Xanatos knelt
over him, a knee to either side, his hands holding himself up
aside each of Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I sent them away. Your good
heart is intact. Your will is already strong. You need what I
can give you, Obi-Wan."
"And what is that?" Obi-Wan gasped as strands of the blue-black
feathers caressed his cheek.
Pale lips pressed lightly against his chest. "Satiation. And
control."
"How?" Obi-Wan heard himself ask in a half-groan. "T...this is
the spirit world..."
"Indeed," Xanatos laughed low and seductively as he lowered
himself, aligning his groin with Obi-Wan's. "And this is not
real, is it?" He slid the hard length of his erection against
the younger man's.
A jolt of electricity entered the Jedi Diplomat's mind. "It...
it's as real as it needs to be," Obi-Wan gasped, thrusting back
in response.
Xanatos threw his head back, laughing, his hair flying in all
directions. "I remember when I was eighteen... and lusting
after... someone." He would not mention Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan
guessed. "You want him all the time, don't you? You need to
burn out your passions in his body, need him to burn his out in
yours..."
"Please..." Obi-Wan moaned, his hands now linked around
Xanatos's neck. Now they were both thrusting against one
another, the older man laughing in delight as the younger man
eagerly bucked his hips against him.
"I don't have his height or his size," Xanatos murmured in his
ear between kisses along his neck. "You'll have to pretend,
little love."
"Whatever!" Obi-Wan gasped in exasperation. Force, he needed to
get off, needed to be freed from the hunger that had returned
in full force since the garden. It was the Oraclyne seeking its
missing half, he knew, but that did not make it easy to bear.
[This will be my beloved Qui soon, it must be...]
As he and Xanatos continued to rub their erections together,
Obi-Wan called up his most loved memory of his master: Qui-Gon,
his eyes smiling with love, as he bent to kiss him on board the
Radiant II... the feel of his lush lips, the gentle questing of
his tongue, then the delicious race of fire along their spines
as his master deepened the kiss... and finally the white heat
that exploded between them as the Oraclyne imprinting completed
its formation...
"QUI-GON!" Obi-Wan cried out as he came in a powerful orgasm.
He clung to the arms enfolding him as he rode out the crest,
gasping. Xanatos rolled to his side, taking the slim young man
with him, his arms tight around him as Obi-Wan sobbed into his
chest.
"Let it go," Xanatos murmured into his ear. "I will keep this
for you. Let it all out, then let it go."
Obi-Wan's body shook with reaction for long minutes, then he
felt as if the powerful emotions were draining out of him and
into the body of the man who held him. Finally he lifted his
head to stare into the pale blue eyes watching him. "Why are
you doing this?" Obi-Wan asked calmly, though he made no move
to leave the embrace.
Xanatos looked at him with pure love, shocking the Jedi
further. "I am your Oraclyne connection. And I will survive at
any cost. You must hold true to your love until your half
rejoins you again. This is not just the call of your natures as
matched Zevdrani and Bajrheni. This is the call of the Force."
"I will," Obi-Wan said solemnly. "Thank you." With a serenity
he hadn't felt since this all started, he kissed Xanatos -
whatever he was - slowly and lovingly.
Upon rising from the trance, Obi-Wan immediately rose in a
single, smooth motion, and went into the 'fresher to clean up
from the orgasm he knew he'd experienced for real. He felt
detached, again, his emotions safely stored away, but this time
it was different because he'd accepted it, welcomed the
necessary control that he was going to sorely need. Finished,
he went to find his master.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon Jinn greeted him formally with a slight bow
when Obi-Wan caught up to him at the spaceport, which
fortunately had been directly beside the Oraclyne's complex. If
the Master Diplomat had gotten any backwash from his padawan's
meditation, he did not show it, his expression closed, their
shields firm.
"My Master," Obi-Wan greeted him in a formal manner as well,
bowing lower. "Where is Master Healer Windsailor?"
"Speaking to the Council," Qui-Gon muttered. They stood a safe
two meters apart, arms folded away in their long robe sleeves.
"I hope there are no further delays. I am eager to get things
back to normal."
Obi-Wan stirred. "Forgive me for speaking so, Master, but I do
not believe that is possible now. With all due respect, we must
adjust to what has happened between us."
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at him. "If 'adjusting' is what you
call it, you seemed to have an interesting interpretation of
it, Padawan."
[So, he did feel it. Very well,] he mused, thinking of the
"meditation". Obi-Wan looked up calmly. "I do what I must,
sir."
The elder Jedi snorted. "Apparently. Do not expect me to assist
you with... that."
"Of course not, Master." Obi-Wan meekly nodded his
acquiescence.
Just then the Master Healer came up to them. "Master Diplomat
Jinn... Senior Padawan Diplomat Kenobi... the Council has a
mission for you." He handed a datachip over to Qui-Gon. "The
transport will be here shortly."
Qui-Gon nodded and took the chip from him, but then turned away
without a word.
**Are you all right, Obi-Wan?** Maki' asked the padawan, who
seemed as formal as his teacher.
**Yes,** Obi-Wan replied coolly. **How did my master react to
meeting the Oraclyne?**
**He was polite,** Maki' answered, exasperated. **We must break
this impasse, Obi-Wan.**
**Yes. In good time.** Obi-Wan nodded to the Healer. **For now,
we wait. The Oraclyne connection between us will not settle for
an impasse long, trust me.**
The mission, as expected, was an uncomplicated, simple one. The
negotiations for free trade between Nugruga and Vitruga, two
planets in the same system, were all but complete. The Jedi
Diplomats were requested to review a few minor points with the
parties involved, largely to make it appear as if neither side
were making a greater concession. For some reason, Jedi
involvement was seen to smooth that over. It was more a matter
of appearances, than any need for the Jedi to assist in
settling anything. The two planets were old members of the
Republic, the trade agreement one of renewal only. There would
be no surprises.
Also, as Obi-Wan had both feared and expected, his master did
not deign to share the mission data with him, something he
hadn't done since before the fateful mission to Melida/Daan
five years ago. Qui-Gon also directed his padawan to resume his
interrupted studies, though the Healer, to his consternation,
insisted that Obi-Wan could study as well off to the side in
the meeting hall as in their quarters outside the government
complex. But it was plain Obi-Wan would not be involved in the
mission though he physically needed to be in Qui-Gon's
vicinity.
Obi-Wan accepted the slight calmly, though he'd been assisting
actively in his master's work for three years now. Technically
he was a Senior Padawan now, and was supposed to be working
alongside his master. [This, too, won't last,] he told himself
solemnly, reassuring the Master Healer who was frankly having a
harder time of this than he was.
Before the first meeting was to take place but after they'd
settled into their quarters, Qui-Gon said it was about time
they did a little physical training. Their hosts, the
Vitrugans, had provided them with an exercise room, too small
for much lightsaber work, but sufficient for exercise. They
removed their Jedi robes and hung them, dark brown of the
Master beside the medium brown of a Senior Padawan or Knight
Diplomat.
Silently they went through some standard stretching exercises,
then the Master moved smoothly into the first position of a
particularly challenging form, igniting his lightsaber.
Obi-Wan's eyes widened. "Master, there is not much room in here
for the Storm Cloud form," he murmured.
Qui-Gon's eyes glittered. "There is exactly enough, Padawan.
Are you unable to perform the Storm Cloud under these
conditions?"
"No, Master," Obi-Wan replied coolly. He struck the pose,
igniting his 'saber. "I am ready."
"Are you now?" Qui-Gon murmured and launched himself at his
student. Obi-Wan had to scramble to move with him. The Storm
Cloud required the two participants to weave around one another
in an intricate "twisting" pattern, designed to teach two Jedi
to fight a common foe together in a confined area.
Even as he struggled to keep up with his master, Obi-Wan
thought fast. [We do not have the mind communion for this right
now - one of us is going to get hurt... I could *let* myself
get hurt, then he will be compelled to heal me. Perhaps the act
of healing will pull him out of this mindset against the
Oraclyne. On the other hand, he could treat me with contempt
for being so clumsy...]
When Qui-Gon's lightsaber singed the hairs on the nape of his
neck, Obi-Wan acted. Quickly he ducked his head, backed away,
and knelt, extinguishing his lightsaber, his head bowed. [He's
going to hit me this time...]
"What are you doing?" Qui-Gon snapped at him. "Get up!"
"Please, Master," Obi-Wan said quickly, lowering his head more.
"This is not right. We should not being doing this..."
"Are you defying me, Padawan?" The Master Diplomat's voice was
revealing a growing contempt.
"No, Master, please..." Obi-Wan's lightsaber hilt clattered to
the floor as he bent himself in half, his forehead touching the
floor. He felt nothing though he was trembling. The reaction
was physical alone.
The Master regarded the folded figure of his apprentice, his
eyes narrowing. Never had Obi-Wan bowed so to him. The sight
pricked at something deep inside him, something that knew this
was all wrong, but his overlying need to deny the truth caused
him to ignore the feeling. "Pick that up and stand," Qui-Gon
ordered him coldly.
Obi-Wan took up his lightsaber and rose to his feet, his head
still bowed. [He might strike me yet...]
"What is the problem, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked impatiently,
glaring at him. His lightsaber was still ignited, humming
dangerously.
"Please, my master," Obi-Wan responded in his meekest voice,
"we do not have the proper mind-communion to perform the Storm
Cloud."
The soft, submissive voice stunned Qui-Gon for a moment. He
could read nothing from his padawan, their link present but
empty. Irritated, he raised his 'saber into a ready position
again. "This entire thing is your fault, you know. If you had
not been so clumsy on Hagabel V and suffered that concussion,
none of this would have happened, do you realize that?"
[What is he going to do?] Obi-Wan wondered idly, glancing at
the fiercely glowing green blade. "Yes, Master," he replied. [I
suppose this is my fault...]
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes, frowning. "Well, since we cannot
practice a form together, we can at least spar. Ready yourself,
Padawan." His tone was harsher than Obi-Wan had ever heard it.
Uncertainly, Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and held it up.
Unwittingly he flashed on one of the most unpleasant memories
of his life - the time he'd drawn his lightsaber against his
master on Melida/Daan. Nothing had happened - both he and
Qui-Gon had immediately lowered their blades, appalled - but
the fact remained that Obi-Wan had nevertheless ignited his
blade against his master in anger.
This was different, "sparring", but it felt like a real fight
abruptly, for no sparring match had ever held the contempt he
now felt from the other. It swirled around them both in the
Force, like fire licking dangerously at their clothes.
Obi-Wan had no more time to think about it. He was suddenly
tumbling madly away, trying to get away from the slicing green
blade that viciously descended upon him. His reflexes took
over, his training kicking in to function automatically. Which
was lucky, because his thoughts and feelings were frozen.
Suddenly there was a shout, and a swirl of a deep blue robe and
it was all over. Master Healer Windsailor stood between them,
his blue-violet lightsaber blade crossed with the Master
Diplomat's, their eyes locked together.
"What are you doing, Master Jinn?" Maki' asked in a low, quiet
voice.
"Sparring with my padawan, Master Windsailor," Qui-Gon replied
neutrally. As one they stood back and extinguished their
blades. Obi-Wan, who'd spun away, shut his off, panting.
"I do not think this was sparring," Maki' replied in challenge.
"Desist or I shall call the Council."
Qui-Gon put his lightsaber hilt back on his belt, then crossed
his arms over his chest, silently insolent, his eyes averted.
Maki' went to the Diplomat apprentice, who stood off to the
side, trembling, his eyes focused on nothing. "Padawan?" the
Healer said kindly, laying a hand on his shoulder.
Obi-Wan still held his lightsaber hilt in both hands. At the
sound of the Healer's voice, he automatically fastened the hilt
to his belt. "Master..." he murmured.
[Force, he's reacting as if traumatized... but certainly
getting attacked by one's own master is a traumatic experience
indeed... am I going to have two patients?] Maki' sighed.
"Obi-Wan, are you all right?"
The young man unfroze abruptly. "Yes, Master, I am fine."
Obi-Wan met his gaze squarely, then bowed to the Healer. "My
Master and I just need to work a few things out. Thank you for
your help, but please, we will be fine."
[Defending his attacker now,] Maki' thought, his heart sinking.
[This is not good. Is this a function of the Oraclyne or a
mental aberration in Obi-Wan? Considering what they've been
through, how the hell am I supposed to tell?] Aloud he replied,
squeezing the young man's shoulder, "Very well, but it is clear
I cannot leave you two alone any longer."
"Take your hand off him," Qui-Gon murmured quietly.
Surprised, the Healer dropped his hand. [What is *that*?]
"Are you saying my padawan is in physical danger from me?"
Qui-Gon asked, stepping nearer the other master, his voice low
and deadly.
"No, of course not," Maki' replied quickly, unconsciously
backing away a step in respect to the other man's imposing
physical presence.
"Leave us."
Maki' looked at Obi-Wan, who nodded. [I can handle him, Master
Makol'. Thank you.]
Confused and not at all happy, the Master Healer bowed to them
and departed.
Master and Padawan looked at one another. "Do you believe you
are in any danger?" Qui-Gon asked, searching the young man's
face, arms folded over his chest. To his confused mind, the
face looked achingly familiar, the face that had greeted him
every morning for five years... but at the same time alien,
this strangely adult Obi-Wan who bowed to his wishes yet
adamantly remained true to what he believed in - their future
as an Oraclyne. The face was beauti/>
Qui-Gon glanced down the length of the slim body before him,
again struck by the young man's beauty and unconscious grace.
With an effort he dragged his gaze back up to the serene blue
eyes again. "I..." He paused to swallow, frowning. "Obi-Wan, I
promise you I will never strike you," he murmured in a low
voice. "I... am having difficulty adjusting to our new reality.
It feels so wrong to me and I am not handling that well. For
that... I apologize." His gaze lingered on the slightly parted
lips.
Obi-Wan relaxed, but remained wary. He felt something odd in
their bond, as tenuous as it was now... then he noticed how his
master was looking at him. He looked up into Qui-Gon's face,
into the beautiful noble features he loved so dearly. Again he
felt the twinge, not only in his heart, but somewhere else...
an unexpected twinge in his groin. His gaze fell upon the lush
lips of his master. "Master..." he breathed, "if you could let
me help you..."
The lips thinned in irritation. "You'd like that, wouldn't
you," Qui-Gon murmured. He loomed over the younger and much
shorter man, subtly edging nearer so that Obi-Wan could feel
the heat of his body. Then one large hand rose to fit fingers
around the padawan braid. "What of your training, little one?"
Qui-Gon whispered, bending to his ear.
His master's subtle male scent filling his nostrils, Obi-Wan
held still, not daring to lean closer. He swallowed with
difficulty then managed to murmur, "My love... and desire for
you do not dim my devotion to my training. I am a Jedi first...
a Senior Padawan Diplomat second..." He paused, looking into
the dark eyes so close. "And, when you are ready again, your
beloved."
"And the Oraclyne?" There was a hint of a sneer in the query.
"And Oraclyne with you, yes," Obi-Wan replied calmly but
firmly.
The Master Diplomat remained where he was for nearly a minute
more, as if memorizing the face so close to his, then he
straightened. "You're a child, Obi-Wan," he muttered, turning
away. "A dreamer. We will find a solution to this mess, you and
I... whether you are willing or not."
"Yes, Master, we will," Obi-Wan replied quietly. [I will see
you through to being healed, even if it costs me my own
sanity,] he thought to himself. His eyes lingered on his
master's body as Qui-Gon retrieved his robe and shrugged it on.
[We will be lovers, we must... and oh, Force, how I plan to
love you...]
The Master Diplomat turned around abruptly. "Did you say
something, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan realized with dismay that he'd been unconsciously
broadcasting into their bond. Qui-Gon might not be listening,
but he would certainly feel the touch of his thought. "No,
Master, I did not," Obi-Wan replied, hastily averting his eyes.
He firmed up his shields. [There, he shouldn't feel that. Oh,
that one day soon we may each be in each other's minds once
again... that I may feel the comforting, loving touch of his
mind upon mine...]
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at his apprentice. [Why does he hold
onto his hope still? I should never have allowed him so close
to me. I loved Xanatos to my folly... I will not allow that to
happen twice. I do not need him... I do not need anyone.] He
found himself glancing down the slope of Obi-Wan's throat, the
silky, lightly sweat-slicked skin. He ached to run his tongue
along that sleek line, taste him...
Abruptly the Master Diplomat swept from the room, his dark
brown robe flying out behind him.
[He... he was looking at my neck,] Obi-Wan thought, feeling
weak all of a sudden. [The Oraclyne in us needs completion,
union... Xanatos, you promised to help me...]
By the time Qui-Gon returned to their quarters, he had to
battle a raging hard-on, the lust trickling dangerously up and
down the length of his spine. Stifling a soft moan, he fell to
his knees, hoping to forestall this heated desire within him by
meditating. It was astonishingly simple, to his immense relief,
to fall into trance...
He opened his eyes to find himself kneeling in a wooded glen.
Startled, he looked down; his normally cream-colored tunics
were pure white, and his robe was missing.
"Welcome, my master," a soft voice murmured to his left.
Shocked, Qui-Gon glanced over to see what looked like his
former apprentice, Xanatos of Telos, dressed similarly to him,
faint amusement on his beautiful, pale face. Abruptly the
Master Diplomat was on his feet, reaching for a lightsaber that
wasn't there, to his further surprise. "You're dead!" he
accused the apparition.
Xanatos, his featherly black hair falling over one eye, looked
up at his former mentor, his expression sobering for a moment.
"I did die.... But that was two years ago." He glanced up at
Qui-Gon. "You came here for solace... and a respite from the
hunger which burns within you."
"This is not real..." Qui-Gon glanced around meaningfully.
"Oh, it's real, Master," Xanatos replied, a corner of his
sensuous mouth quirking up into a grin. "Just another reality.
This is where Obi-Wan saved you." He gestured around them at
the forest.
"You've seen Obi-Wan here." Qui-Gon peered at him narrowly,
suspicious.
"Oh, yes..." Xanatos neared and slid his hands up Qui-Gon's
chest as if it was an action he did every day. "He is deeply in
love with you, Qui-Gon. You know that. Your whole being knows
it, yet you deny him and yourself what is in your own heart."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened. Confused, he backed away from the
touch. "You're not angry with me? But I killed you..."
Xanatos shook his head, advancing again. "You're not listening
to me, Qui-Gon. You never did listen to me well." He sighed,
slipping fingertips around the master's waist. "All right, yes,
you killed me. I do not hate you for that, for I deserved it.
Now... may I not atone a little for all the pain I caused you
by helping you now?"
Stunned, Qui-Gon looked down into the earnest pale blue eyes of
the man he once thought could be his lifemate. "No... Xani, you
turned to the Dark... you're of the Dark, you want to turn
me..."
"No, no, Qui..." A look of pain crossed the beautiful face.
"You do not know, for there was nothing left of our bond.
Qui-Gon, in the moments I lay dying at your feet, the full
awareness of my evil became known to me... and I repented. I
turned back to the Light and it accepted me. And I swore then I
would help you if I ever could." He clasped Qui-Gon's arms,
drawing him closer. "Please let me... Obi-Wan has... he loves
you so much."
The crippled mind of the Master Diplomat could not handle what
was offered. "No, you're lying..." He shoved the other away,
backing up, fear in his eyes, pain contorting his face. "You
cannot be here, and you would never help me. Never!" He turned
abruptly and ran away through the woods.
Obi-Wan dejectedly sank to his knees, hugging his arms to
himself as the waves of desire continually shuddered through
his being. As on Coruscant, he could not avoid his master's
desires, tickling at him maddeningly through their stressed
bond, worsening as the distance between them increased. And the
physical imprinting, the Oraclyne connection, just teased him,
them, all the more, urging them to unite.
Qui-Gon would not. Obi-Wan would, oh, Force, yes, he would
marry his body to his Oraclys, enter and be entered, satiate
his every sense with his beloved's scent, the feel of his skin
over hard muscles, the feel of his lover's hair brushing
against his own groin, the taste of his mouth, his throat, his
nipples, his...
With a cry, Obi-Wan jerked himself to his feet. With great
effort he avoided touching himself, despite the hardness
pressing to be released from his pants. [I have to maintain
control,] he told himself bitterly. [Someone has to!] With a
last groan, he threw on his robe and headed out to rejoin his
master in their quarters... welcome or no.
In his own quarters, Maki' was pacing. The things he was
sensing in the Force worried him deeply, and he could not seem
to decide who needed him worse, Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon. [I have to
believe Qui-Gon won't hurt him, I have to trust him though I
honestly don't think I can,] he thought to himself. [Obi-Wan
seems determined to carry this burden alone. What can I do?]
Finally he settled into a meditative position. [Perhaps all I
can do is project healing energy through the Force,] he
thought, relaxing. [It can't hurt...]
After Obi-Wan entered the quarters he was sharing with his
master, he heard the sounds of showering coming from the
refresher, combined with...
He heard moaning. Obi-Wan threw open the door to the refresher.
"Master, are you hurt?" he called as he entered, then flattened
himself back against the door at what he saw. His beloved
master was splayed against the wall of the shower unit, facing
him, the spray directed at the lower portion of his body. There
were no clouds of steam. The water was icy cold.
"Get OUT!" Qui-Gon shouted, glaring at him venomously.
Obi-Wan got. Unnerved, he went to his bed and crawled up onto
it, folding himself into a ball with his back to the door. [He
loved me once, I know it, and he will love me again,] he told
himself, trembling with need and shock. Then he felt it, the
gentle flow of warmth from the Force. **Oh... Maki'?**
**Obi-Wan?** Maki' immediately rose and went to the door of his
quarters, but then halted, leaning his head on the door as he
paused to discern if he was needed. **What's wrong? Do you need
me?**
**You're a good friend, Maki',** Obi-Wan replied back, closing
his eyes tight against the memory of his master shouting at
him. **I know you care about us. Perhaps... perhaps you could
help my master...**
Maki' sighed, feeling rather like banging his head against the
door, not just lean on it. **Obi, if you're suggesting what I
think you are... I will NOT do that to you.** Maki' had of
course found both of them attractive, but as a Healer knew he
could not get involved whether either of them were amenable or
not. He himself had no lovers at the moment, but was still
enjoying the solitude after his padawan's Knighting. [There's
no WAY I'm getting in the middle of *this*!] he thought,
morosely.
**I didn't tell you... I didn't tell you about Xanatos,**
Obi-Wan replied softly. He felt a subtle heat at his back and
realize with a jolt that Qui-Gon had left the shower and was
somewhere behind him, watching him. **He's watching me, Maki'.
My master, that is.**
Qui-Gon, still naked and still dripping from the shower, stood
in the entrance to his padawan's room, leaning on the doorpost
and watching him impassively. The Master Diplomat felt...
empty, drained of feeling. The need of the Oraclyne was
wearying him, and he longed for escape. The Force felt far
away... his bond with his Padawan ominously silent.
Seeing Xanatos again had shook him deeply. And contrition from
the padawan who had turned against him seared him in ways he
could not even see yet. Rarely one who had turned to the Dark
Side could make their way back again. That Xanatos - if that
had even been him - could have repented at the moment of
death...
Another impossibility. So many, so wearing on his mind.
Physically imprinted on/with Obi-Wan, bound to love and desire
him alone... confronted with a repentant Xanatos... the
massively maddening Oraclyne, determined to suck him into a
lifetime of Healing, taking him from the work he was trained to
do, work he was very good at... work that was immensely more
satisfying than exposing himself to pain, agony, suffering,
hunger, hurt...
He sucked his breath in, steeling himself against a sudden
surge of anguish. [He's too young, far too young to bear that
kind of burden... and it pains me to think of *myself* having
to bear that! I cannot do that to him, to us, I cannot, I
cannot...]
**Qui-Gon...** murmured a gentle voice in his mind, sending
with it a soft swell of caring.
**What do you want?** the Master Diplomat snapped back at the
Master Healer.
**Tell me about Xanatos,** Maki', prompted by Obi-Wan's
comment, asked carefully. [I think there's something important
here...]
Qui-Gon sagged against the doorframe, stifling a groan. His
apprentice, damn him, had said something to the Healer about
Xanatos. [I'll never be free of him...]
**Xanatos was his last padawan,** Obi-Wan murmured. **He turned
to the Dark Side and tried to kill Qui-Gon, who had to kill him
instead. That was two years ago... but Xanatos is not like that
now. He wants to help.** He'd told the Healers on Coruscant of
the "dead people" who had "visited" him in the spirit land when
he was in the coma, but had not explained this, nor certainly
that this one had contacted him again.
**Xanatos is *dead*, and that is all you need to know,
Healer,** Qui-Gon retorted, bowing his head.
With surprise, Maki' realized that neither Diplomat was
speaking mentally so that the other could hear, but each was
broadcasting to him alone. [The bond has been shut down that
much,] he thought with dismay. **Qui-Gon,** he continued to the
Master alone, **did you see Xanatos?**
**A ghost, no more, a trick of my subconscious to torture me,**
Qui-Gon replied. The Healer winced at the pain in his mind.
**He claimed to have repented! But I watched him die by my
blade, looked into the insolence of his eyes until they
darkened. There was no repentance there!**
**You... killed him?** Maki' was careful to feign shock. **No
wonder you are out of sorts...**
**I had to!** Qui-Gon snapped back. **He was endangering
Obi-Wan.**
**Obi-Wan,** Maki' asked the padawan quietly, **how do you know
Xanatos wants to help? And how?**
There was no answer. Obi-Wan was ignoring the heat across the
room, embracing the cold in his body and heart. [If I go into
trance, perhaps I will see Xanatos again... or Bant. If I could
just see her silver eyes one more time...]
Qui-Gon was staring at his apprentice's back as if trying to
bore a hole into his with his eyes. [I am the one who is
endangering Obi-Wan,] his befuddled mind thought, settling into
yet another illogical pattern. [I want to take him so badly...
and I know he will let me do it. I cannot, yet I burn for
him...]
Frowning, Maki' straightened when he got no response. He spoke
to them both. **The door had better be opened, because I am
coming in there.**
He was patently ignored.
A minute later, the Healer strode in, finding them still in the
same positions. [All right, time to pull rank... if I can.]
Resolute, he squared his shoulders and approached the Master
Diplomat. "Master Jinn, you have a mission to begin tomorrow,"
he started in, keeping his voice even and firm. "You need to go
to bed, now. You must allow me to help you to sleep."
Qui-Gon turned around slowly, still leaning on the door frame.
He seemed wholly unconscious of his nudity, meeting the gaze of
the other evenly. "How dare you..." he muttered, but there was
no fight in his voice. He was exhausted mentally, and losing
his will fast.
Maki' could not help a quick glance down the other man's body.
Qui-Gon Jinn, as a Diplomat, had to keep in top physical
condition, for in the rougher corners of the Republic,
Diplomats occasionally had to fight their way out when
negotiations fell apart. Jinn was a magnificent physical
specimen, his very long, lean body well-muscled. And, his
endowments... Maki' had to drag himself back firmly to the task
at hand. "A Master Healer," he began, meeting the wary blue
eyes again, "outranks any other Discipline in matters of health
and safety. I believe this to be a situation that warrants my
interference, and you have nothing to say on the matter."
The Diplomat straightened, his glance falling upon his padawan
again. He looked upon him without making any eye contact,
without truly seeing him, his apprentice's entire posture and
body language having no impact. "Oh, that..." he sighed, then
wonder of wonders, Qui-Gon Jinn moved away from the door and
went into his own room. **I am so tired, Makol'... why am I so
tired?**
Maki' glanced quickly at the still figure of the padawan folded
into a ball on the bed, then hastened after the master.
**You're fighting the Oraclyne, that's why, Qui-Gon,** he
replied, his strong sense of compassion surging to the fore.
**But we aren't going to think of that right now. Time to
sleep.** When Qui-Gon settled onto the mattress of his own bed,
laying on his side, Maki' sat down beside him and drew the
covers over him. **Much better.**
**I do not want to see Xanatos ever again,** Qui-Gon sighed,
unable to hold back a sharp pang that did make the Master
Healer gasp.
**You won't. We'll keep him away from you,** Maki' replied,
reaching to lay a hand on Qui-Gon's head. **Rest now, Qui-Gon,
and dream only of peaceful things. I will help Obi-Wan, too.**
**Obi-Wan? I've hurt him...** Another pang, deeper, a knife
straight through the heart. **And I'm going to keep hurting
him. I cannot help it.**
Maki' winced, taking a deep breath to steady his own controls
as the man's inner pain lanced through him. [Force, but he's
powerful! If these rooms weren't well shielded...] **Do not
think of that now,** he responded soothingly. **I will help
him. You need to sleep, Qui-Gon.** He sent a Force-suggestion
along with that thought, hoping Qui-Gon was weakened enough to
be receptive to it.
**Stay away from him...** The mental voice was abruptly
venomous again, his mental resistance stiffened.
"Force, Qui-Gon!" Maki' erupted aloud in frustration. "I'm
going to put you to sleep, then I will put Obi-Wan to sleep. I
must and you must let me!"
**Oh.** Again the fight in the Diplomat dissipated. **I just
want this to stop, Makol'...**
**Sleep, Qui-Gon...** Maki' concentrated on his communion with
the Force, his Healing powers, to slip the powerful and
deranged telepath in front of him into unconsciousness. **You
must.**
**Makol'...**
**Qui-Gon...** Maki' returned sternly. **Don't make me call
Master Yoda.**
That got a snort. But the Master Diplomat subsided finally, and
Maki' with tremendous relief slipped him into a deep sleep.
Shaking, Maki' took a deep breath and went into the other
bedroom. He settled onto the edge of the bed, laying a gentle
hand on the young man's shoulder. **Obi-Wan, your master is
asleep finally. He's... very strong.**
**That's... not my master,** Obi-Wan returned, his own pain all
too evident. **Mine is far, far away, over the mountain.**
[The spirit land,] Maki' thought, wondering again what that
level of conscious reality had to do with the Oraclyne. It
evidently represented a state of consciousness in which the
Oraclyne dealt with many situations. Many telepathic species
possessed such capability of reaching that state, though most
required chemical assistance to reach it. It was ritualized in
some of those cultures, the "spirit walkers" serving as Healers
or counselors among their own people. Again, they had not yet
uncovered much in the Oraclyne Archives on that subject. [Damn
archives, too much to look through, too much we do not need,
too little of what we do need.]
**I know,** Maki' replied finally, sending a little wave of
caring the way of the hurting young man. **Do you want to sleep
now?**
**Oh, yes...** Obi-Wan smiled, sighing. **I'll see my friends
there, I hope. They're protecting me until we can heal my
beloved.**
Maki' reached to lay his hand on the padawan's head. **Obi-Wan,
please tell me first... what has Xanatos said to you? I think
there's something important here. Both you and Qui-Gon saw
Xanatos in the spirit world.**
Obi-Wan unfolded suddenly and turned over to look up at the
Healer. "He loves us both," the young Oraclys whispered. "He
*is* the connection, you see. But he will protect me until the
Oraclyne can unite." His face was pale from his recent mental
anguish, but his eyes were clear and wide.
"Xanatos *is* the Oraclyne connection?" Maki' asked in a low
voice, surprised. "No wonder Qui-Gon rejected it. Does he feel
Dark to you?"
"No, no, that's just it," Obi-Wan replied, still whispering.
"He's transformed, I know it. Yet he's..." The padawan blushed,
glancing away from the other man's eyes.
"What, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan sighed, but he smiled a little. "I'd always heard that
Xanatos had been quite the sensualist. He is, or rather was,
very beautiful, and used his beauty to great effect. It's hard
not to be attracted to him."
"Ah." Maki' thought it best not to press for details. If it
brought Obi-Wan solace - whatever "it" was - so be it. "You
need to sleep, too, Padawan. Ready to try?"
The young man nodded, turning onto his side again, closing his
eyes. "Very ready," he murmured softly.
**Sleep, then, Obi-Wan Kenobi,** the Healer whispered into his
mind.
Obi-Wan dreamed of the beautiful spirit-forest, where laughing
Bant took his hand and led him to a hill overlooking a lovely
valley. In the distance could be seen the mountain; Obi-Wan
sensed his master there beyond it, deeply troubled, asleep.
Cerasi, looking more relaxed than he'd ever seen her, joined
them atop the hill. The three sat down and watched as the sun
grew lower in the sky and then set, spilling purples and golds
over the valley of the forest.
Xanatos sat watching as well, but at some distance from them,
silent and invisible to their senses.
Qui-Gon did not dream.
An hour before dawn, Obi-Wan rose to silence. Quickly he
dressed for practice and slipped out of their apartment,
lightsaber in hand. The exercise room was fortunately just down
the hall, and hopefully not too far away to wake his master to
the urges. Or himself.
Obi-Wan knelt gracefully in the middle of the room to center
himself. Though he'd slept well, his thoughts had returned
unbidden again and again to one possible solution. Again and
again he'd rejected the thought... but now it was back. And he
was in position to act on it.
[If I injure myself,] Obi-Wan thought, his brow furrowed, [the
Oraclyne might act to snap him out of the psychosis. It's
possible...] Yet he knew it might also make things worse,
convince Qui-Gon all the more how wrong the Oraclyne was. It
was a risk. [I can take this risk...]
The decision was made.
He closed his eyes and prepared. Breathing deeply, Obi-Wan
calmed himself, finding his well of serenity. He thought of
Bant, sweet Bant who was his goodness, his love for his
master... and he thought of copper-haired Cerasi, his will to
see his beloved master through this mental battle, his
determination to even cause himself harm if it would heal
Qui-Gon... and finally of the strangely loving Xanatos, keeper
of the bright flame of their Oraclyne connection.
The lightsaber hilt was raised and activated. Obi-Wan calmly
held it in one hand, and held out his left forearm. The hissing
blade was lowered until his whole arm glowed blue. Then he laid
the blade against his arm.
He screamed. The air filled with the stench of burning cloth
and flesh.
Qui-Gon Jinn did not know how he got there, but less than
fifteen seconds later, he slid to his knees beside his padawan
who knelt in the center of the exercise room, holding his
smoking forearm to himself, rocking and moaning in pain.
Something within the Master Diplomat had clicked into automatic
pilot as if in this terrible moment his own consciousness
mattered not. His Oraclys was hurt; not even the diseased mind
of the Jedi Master could ignore that call.
Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan in his lap, his arms strongly around him,
his mind already locked into healing mode. His padawan's pain
centers were dampened, and tendrils of Force were sent into the
arm, swiftly healing burned tissues and repairing damaged skin
and vessels.
Once the pain faded, Obi-Wan, though still shuddering in
reaction to the trauma, tried to inquire of his Oraclys.
**Qui-Gon...**
There was no answer. In his mind's eye Obi-Wan thought he
caught a glimpse of Xanatos, shaking his head sadly at him.
Then the image was gone.
Maki' arrived a minute after Qui-Gon had. Warily he watched; he
could sense the Healing energies pouring into the body of the
young Jedi, but there were no matching emanations of empathy
from the other Diplomat. He'd never seen or felt a more
clinical Healing.
**Padawan?** Maki' inquired after a moment. He was guessing
that Obi-Wan had done this on purpose. Dismayed, he realized he
should have expected him to try something of this nature.
**The Oraclyne is healing me,** Obi-Wan returned, resignation
heavy in his mental voice. **I know, Qui-Gon isn't here. I
should have known.**
Maki' said nothing.
Ten minutes later, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan's wrist down to
examine the forearm. The skin through the burned cloth was
whole and unblemished. He sighed in relief... then froze,
waking up fully. Returned to himself, Qui-Gon looked down into
his padawan's face with shock.
Obi-Wan stared back, his hope dissolving into dust. His Qui-Gon
was gone, trapped inside the prison of his schizophrenia. Not
even the automatic healing of one Oraclys by the other could
shake him of the illness.
Qui-Gon released him abruptly, stumbling backwards to get away,
then managing to find his feet. Still he stared at his
apprentice, his mind unable to comprehend what it had just
done.
Gulping, Obi-Wan found his voice. Anything to break the
silence. "Thank you, Master," he said quietly. He stood
awkwardly, then bowed to him, breathing deeply to clear the
lingering wooziness.
The Master Diplomat frowned, then nodded, returning the bow
slightly. Wordless, he turned and left the room without a
glance back. He hadn't even seemed to see the Healer standing
there.
Obi-Wan swayed, and Maki' was at his side promptly. "Obi-Wan, I
do not think that was very intelligent..."
"I had to try it," Obi-Wan replied firmly, leaning on the
Healer. Then he sighed. "He won't remember this, I'm sure of
it. But I had to try. It might have worked."
Qui-Gon did remember. He was in shock that he'd pushed his
padawan into harming himself to get this Oraclyne thing. [I've
hurt him yet again. I feel as if I wielded the 'saber, not he.
I'm going to hurt him over and over... where will it stop? Can
I stop it?] Sinking further into depression, he thought of a
way...
In the morning, things mysteriously seemed both calm and almost
normal. Obi-Wan, upon rising, hesitated to look out the door of
his room. To his wonder, Qui-Gon was dressed, there was
firstmeal on the table - breads, fruit, and tea - and his
master, though unsmiling, nodded to him. "I've programmed your
datapad with your lessons for today, Padawan," the Master
Diplomat said calmly. "The meeting is in twenty minutes. Is
that enough time for you to dress and eat? I'm told by the
Master Healer that we are to go to the meeting hall together.
There is a window alcove near the conference table where you
can study."
Obi-Wan started; in his absorption with watching his master he
hadn't noticed the Healer sitting placidly in a chair near the
door. "Master Makol'," he said formally, bowing hastily.
**Maki'? He's so... calm! I was right, he must not remember.**
He turned back to his own master to respond to his question.
"Yes, Master, that is enough time. Thank you." Obi-Wan ducked
back into his room to dress.
**I cannot explain why,** Maki' replied privately. **Let's just
be grateful and not think about it too much. But I think we'd
both better watch him carefully. There is a new sadness about
him...**
**I sense it also,** Obi-Wan replied as he arranged his tabard,
puzzled.
In twenty minutes, the three Jedi were strolling down the
hallway tudies, he couldn't help but pay attention at the same
time to the goings on. Qui-Gon was seated facing him, but in
those two hours the Master never looked his way once. Maki',
not deigning to explain his presence to the group, sat in a
corner of the hall, merely taking everything in, though he paid
close attention to the eddys and currents of the Force in the
hall.
For a while Obi-Wan indulged in listening to his beloved
Master's smooth, cultured voice, his methods of employing the
Diplomatic arts in their highest form. Qui-Gon was a joy to
listen to, and he'd soon had the participants nodding and
agreeing eagerly to pretty much anything he said. Obi-Wan had
to stifle a grin; Qui-Gon *was* good.
It was almost like nothing had ever happened. He didn't even
have a twinge left in his arm, though the "accident" was just a
few hours ago. Could they pretend, just for a while? [He's so
good at this, it's so *him* - no wonder he resists changing
Disciplines,] Obi-Wan thought soberly. [Or can this be
integrated with Healing? Maybe they would let us be part of two
Disciplines...]
Sometime after the second hour, after a brief recess, something
changed subtly. Once in a while Obi-Wan would glance up from
his datapad to catch his master looking his way. Once in a
while Qui-Gon paused in the middle of what he was saying,
distracted.
**Maki'?** Obi-Wan sent the second time it happened.
**Easy, Obi-Wan...** The Master Healer nodded subtly. **Let's
don't jump to conclusions...**
Definitely uneasy, Obi-Wan pretended to read the treatise on
the historical patterns of the High Court of Dowrillia Nine on
his datapad. Then, twenty minutes later, it happened again. One
of the Vitrugan representatives had to repeat a question.
Qui-Gon murmured a response, but it was plainly wasn't what the
group had expected to hear. In fact, the Master Diplomat's
speech had been hesitant, halting. He glanced over toward
Obi-Wan, who shot him a look. **Master?**
Maki' broke in, still only to the padawan, **He must have been
expending tremendous energy this morning to assume the
appearance of normalcy.**
**Now...** a soft voice whispered inside Obi-Wan's mind.
Though he did not know who spoke or what they meant, the Senior
Padawan Diplomat acted, feeling a surge within him of welcome
control and determination. **Thank you,** he replied.
[Xanatos?] Smoothly Obi-Wan set aside the datapad and climbed
out of the alcove, settling his robe on his shoulders a little
better. "Excuse me, Minister G'atcc," he said, approaching the
table with a slight bow to the questioner, his lips curving
into an amused smile. "I believe what Master Diplomat Jinn is
saying is that even his apprentice can answer that one."
The assembly tittered weakly, but began to relax as Obi-Wan,
standing at the end of the table with arms folded in his robe
sleeves, launched into a detailed and lengthy clarification of
the point in question. It was evident that this "apprentice"
was trained well by his master and had been listening and
understood the matter at hand. And though he looked very young,
his poise and manners gave the impression of experience, which
further relaxed them.
**You've been listening!** Maki' sent, impressed. They both
glanced at Qui-Gon with a bit of wariness; the Master Diplomat
merely nodded in agreement as Obi-Wan finished, no other
emotion coming from him or on his face.
**Of course I have,** Obi-Wan retorted, though he was smiling
at the chief Nugrugan who was pulling out the chair next to his
to invite the young Diplomat to join them.
Qui-Gon was still watching Obi-Wan, his lips slightly parted,
his glance lingering on the V of skin where the neck of his
student's tunics opened. [Young,] the Diplomat was thinking to
himself, the assembly momentarily forgotten, [but so beautiful,
so lithe... and forbidden. But to taste that sweet skin...] He
closed his eyes briefly, the hunger again blooming within. [Yet
I will hurt him...]
Obi-Wan sat gingerly, wondering if he'd gotten a stain on his
tunic this morning, judging from the disapproving gaze of his
master. He did not dare look, and nodded to several people at
the table instead, intent on smoothly fitting into the
negotiations. Yet he found himself hyperaware of Qui-Gon across
the table, his skin tingling with the rake of that glance.
**What?** he sent to his master, bewildered.
There was no answer; he didn't expect one. One of the ministers
had already proceeded to the next point, so Obi-Wan made
himself pay attention, though it took an effort. His Oraclys
was near. His Oraclys was watching him, his eyes not on his
face, but on his body. Distantly he was also aware of the
Master Healer's curiosity.
The meeting continued as the Senior Padawan Diplomat functioned
as negotiator in his master's stead, smoothly diverting both
attention and concern away from the Master Diplomat. In fact,
when Qui-Gon suddenly stood and pushed away from the table, the
assembly nodded politely to his murmured excuse and went back
to concentrating on Obi-Wan's suave words and cultured tone of
voice.
**Where are you going?** Maki' asked as Qui-Gon passed him,
exiting the room. But the Diplomat did not seem to hear or see
him, his long strides carrying him back towards their quarters.
**Obi-Wan?** he asked of the padawan.
**Let him go,** Obi-Wan replied, worried but careful not to
show it. He felt the craving within him, but he could not give
into it. Somehow the strength was there to use, to withstand
the urges that called to him. He had to do this, carry the
mission. Clearly Qui-Gon... could not.
Back in the quarters he was sharing with his apprentice,
Qui-Gon Jinn threw his robe into a corner and sank to his knees
in the center of the main room, immediately bowing over, his
head in his hands, trembling with need. Ruthlessly he hardened
his shields to the maximum extent, freezing his bond with his
apprentice so no hint of his plight would leak through. It was
the last bit of control he could muster.
Then despair took him over. His consciousness fled in the face
of darkness.
This time when the spirit land captured his awareness, he found
himself in a deep, deep canyon of sheer black rock, the sky
only a tiny rectangle of light far above. Instinctively he
reached out with the Force, but only received a paroxysm of
pain knifing through his Force-sense. Anguished, he cried out,
but his voice only sounded hollow and tinny in the deep chasm
of rock.
His thoughts were chaos: [Why is this happening? WHAT is
happening? How can I stop this needing him - we cannot be
together, we cannot - I do not want this, I cannot have this!
He deserves more, he deserves a life of his own, he cannot want
me, I hate this longing for him, oh, please, make it stop...]
Qui-Gon clutched his arms to himself and fell heavily against
the rock face, pressing his cheek against the cold smoothness,
feeling an ache in his gut and heart that he could not affect.
[I have to keep hurting him, I cannot help it, oh Force, I do
not want to hurt him anymore! Oh, Obi-Wan, you cannot love me,
not me, not the one who hurts you so. Wasn't that my hand on
your lightsaber? I feel the Darkness in me and I cannot escape
it. You will bleed and I cannot stop it! No, no...]
He screamed it aloud: "NO!" The Oraclys beat his fists against
the black rock, then continued to scream and pound against the
unyielding darkness surrounding him.
But there was no Obi-Wan here now. No forest. No blue sky, no
sun, no grass. Only the rock and Qui-Gon Jinn, locked inside
his mind in a closed loop of despair. He wanted, loved Obi-Wan
desperately. He was going to hurt him badly. The Oraclyne,
above all, must not be, was wrong. But his body and libido were
powerfully conspiring against him. If he as much as touched
Obi-Wan now, all was lost.
"And I suppose you still do not want my help," a voice behind
him murmured quietly.
Qui-Gon, the sides of his fists bloody from the rock, whipped
around to behold Xanatos yet again taunting him. Or so he
believed. His face contorted with his internal agony, he shook
his fists at the intruder. "You are doing this!"
Xanatos stood with his arms crossed, his beautiful pale face
impassive. "So you perceive. Yes, I am the cause of the ache in
your belly, your desire for him. But I did not put it there.
Qui-Gon, you have loved Obi-Wan for a long, long time. You
desired him before I came into being."
The Oraclys glared at the apparition, shaking his head. "That
doesn't make sense! You're trying to confuse me even more!"
The thin lips curved in a rueful smile. "I doubt I could do
that in your state... but let me ask you this - what do you
believe me to be, Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon glared at him, his eyes narrowed to venomous slits.
"You... are the enemy."
The pale blue eyes gazed up at him with compassion. The Jedi
Master's mind was unable to see him any other way. "As you
perceive me, yes," Xanatos murmured in response. "I am the
threads that tie your life force to Obi-Wan's. I am the
Oraclyne connection. I do not understand why you hate me, but I
acknowledge that you do." He glanced up the face of the sheer
rock cliff. "Your acceptance of what must be is on the other
side of this mountain, where he is. This... is in the way."
Again the Jedi rammed his fist against the rock. "I cannot
break this! I cannot climb it! I am locked away in here, and
I'm hurting him!"
Xanatos neared daringly. "You think you cannot remove the
mountain separating you from the greater part of yourself...
and him."
"And this time you're not listening to me, Xanatos," Qui-Gon
growled. "I'm HURTING him!"
"And you think what you propose is not going to hurt him?"
Xanatos threw back, challenging.
Qui-Gon stared at him in shock. The "proposal" had only just
occurred to him that morning, after the Healing. There was one
way out of this dilemma. And then he could never hurt Obi-Wan
again.
Obi-Wan completed the negotiations with a surety and expertise
that reassured the Nugrugans and Vitrugans even after he
explained that his master was unable to continue because of
illness. It was with a sense of great relief and a little
allowed satisfaction that Obi-Wan, Maki' in tow, departed from
the meeting hall at last, the mission complete.
**I do not like what little I'm sensing from him, Maki',**
Obi-Wan said to the Healer as they strode through the hallway.
**Or rather NOT sensing. He's got our bond completely shut down
and himself tightly shielded. I think his illness is
worsening.**
Maki' laid a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder.
**He has been progressing through a series of psychoses since
that coma, Obi-Wan. Schizophrenia has many, many faces. This
last phase allowed him to assume some normalcy for a time, but
he's apparently moved onto something else. You sense a
danger?**
Obi-Wan stopped and faced the Master Healer. "I sense a return
of the darkness," he said aloud, frowning in his worry. "The
Oraclyne connection, which he's resisting as strongly as he
can, is trying to draw the two of us into union. It's... very
powerful. He will not give in to it." He sighed, glancing up at
the Healer. "His will is exceptionally strong, Maki'. There is
no changing his mind on this, not in his present mental
condition."
The Healer nodded slowly. "And no matter what psychosis he's
exhibiting, that mindset is the one constant - that the
Oraclyne is all wrong. Did he have doubts before?"
The young Diplomat shook his head and folded his arms in the
sleeves of his brown robe. "That's just it, Maki'. When we last
talked about it before Belvin Three, Qui-Gon was as committed
to the Oraclyne *and* to me as I was to the Oraclyne and to
him." He looked away and closed his eyes, remembering with a
bitter sweetness that precious time. "He loves me deeply, then
and now. But now he is convinced the love is wrong. If only I
could figure out what went so terribly wrong on Belvin Three!"
Maki' looked at the padawan closely. "Well, obviously he
overdid it. Qui-Gon tried to do too much and nearly killed you
both."
Obi-Wan shook his head and looked up again. "No, it's not just
that. I sense more went on, I do not know why. It was not an
Oraclyne healing because he did it, not both of us. But that's
not it either."
"How can you be sure?" Maki' frowned. "Clearly Qui-Gon
overreached himself."
"I don't know how I'm sure," Obi-Wan sighed. "There are missing
pieces to this puzzle. The longer this goes on, the more I feel
convinced of this."
"Answers back on Belvin Three?" Maki' asked, straightening.
There might be something here worth exploring.
"I don't know... I just have a strong feeling that we're
missing something important."
Maki' peered at him with narrowed eyes. "And just how are you
able to hold up so well yourself, Senior Padawan Diplomat?"
Obi-Wan smiled wanly. "Don't laugh, but I've had help. You're
likely to think I've gone crazy as well..."
"Tell..." Maki' smiled also, though he was suddenly curious as
to the nature of "help".
"All right." Obi-Wan looked away... or rather looked within. "I
understand that the healthy human mind creates what you call
'coping mechanisms' to handle stressful situations. Sometimes
the mechanisms aren't so healthy, but nevertheless it's a
natural reaction to trauma. You know that in the coma I was
mentally in some sort of 'spirit place'..."
"The spirit land," Maki' offered softly. "A different plane of
reality. Yes, it's a phenomenon known to Healers. You're saying
you've been back there since?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "I don't know why I know this, but it has to do
with being Oraclyne, or at least being Bajrheni. Qui-Gon may
have also. Anyway, in the spirit land I have encountered my
dead... people I have come in contact with in my life who have
died. I believe these to be aspects of my own personality or
psyche. But in the last two times - once when I went to try to
draw Qui-Gon out of the catatonia and the other in meditation -
one of the dead in particular came to mean more than just a
feature of Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind. It was Xanatos of Telos,
Qui-Gon's last padawan who turned to the Dark just before he
would have become a Knight Diplomat. Qui-Gon killed him when he
attacked us two years ago."
Maki's eyes widened. "Astonishing..." He glanced around
quickly. "I want you to tell me about these encounters, but
perhaps not here. Come to my quarters. But first... tell me
what you feel."
Obi-Wan sucked his breath in sharply and looked away. The
desires hadn't abated though his "supplemented control" had
helped considerably. "I want him..." he whispered and closed
his eyes briefly, allowing himself for a quick moment to feel
the hunger for his Oraclys within. "But as I said," he
finished, opening his eyes again, "I have help. Ironically it
may be that the Oraclyne connection gives me strength while it
drains Qui-Gon terribly because of his fierce resistance to
it."
He started suddenly as the Healer grasped his chin, peering
into his face. "Maki'?"
The pale blue eyes narrowed again. Obi-Wan was maturing through
this experience, having to grow up all the more through this
terrible ordeal with his master. "Remarkable... but know that
I'm just as worried about you, Obi-Wan." Maki' released his
chin, straightening. "What are you sensing from him now?"
"Darkness..." He frowned and a brief wave of anguish washed
through his expression. "Despair." Obi-Wan swallowed carefully.
"Fear. Maki', we haven't much time to solve this puzzle. He may
do something desperate."
"Or turn to the Dark." Slowly they continued on to the Healer's
quarters.
"Never," Obi-Wan replied firmly but quietly. "He would die
first."
They looked at one another. "No, he wouldn't," Maki' breathed.
"No, of course, not," Obi-Wan sighed. "He knows his death means
my death."
Within the crippled mind of the Master Diplomat the impasse
still raged on, Qui-Gon alternately bloodying himself by
railing against the unyielding rock cliff, and arguing with
Xanatos about his options.
He was convinced now that there was only one left.
"This is not what he wants," Xanatos murmured as he watched
Qui-Gon yet again beat his fists against the rock. Beside the
Jedi Master, the ex-Jedi leaned his back against the rock, arms
crossed over his chest. "Why is union so difficult for you to
accept? He loves you deeply and you love him."
"You... don't... understand," Qui-Gon panted, his voice ragged
from screaming. Blood trailed down his face and clothes in
sticky rivulets, caking already on his hands. He beat his fists
yet again on the rock, then leaned his full weight on it,
forehead pressed into the cold, hard surface. "It's... it's...
wrong..."
"It's so RIGHT," Xanatos countered, turning his shoulder into
the rock as he edged nearer to speak into Qui-Gon's ear, his
voice low and soothing. "It's everything you've ever wanted...
it's the completion of your heart and soul, Qui-Gon Jinn. He is
the answer to your entire life!" He reached to put an arm
around the Jedi Master.
"Get away from me!" Qui-Gon shouted, sweeping him away with a
powerful shove of his arm, sending Xanatos flying, falling
heavily on the ground some meters away. "You're the Dark,
trying to seduce me - I know what you are!"
Xanatos picked himself up smoothly, unharmed of course. "I told
you what I am," he said coldly, glaring back. "You do not
believe it, much less accept it. I *am* the answer to your
dilemma, not the problem! This..." He gestured at the rock
face. "This is your problem!"
"I cannot go through the mountain!" Qui-Gon threw back at him,
weaving on his feet from exhaustion. "It's IMPOSSIBLE!" He
tried to close his eyes against his nemesis, but Xanatos was
suddenly in his personal space, hands on either side of his
face, holding him in an abruptly unbreakable grip.
"You must!" Xanatos growled at him, relentless. "You kill him
and yourself and you will hate yourself forever. I can promise
you that!"
"No..." Qui-Gon hung onto the other man's wrists, struggling to
free himself. "I cannot do it! If I do that at least I cannot
hurt him more beyond it. One terrible sin is worth that."
It was a struggle of titans: one powerful mental and life bond
warring against the broken mind of a highly telepathic and
determined Jedi Master. Oraclyne against Oraclys. In ten
thousand years, no Zevdrani or Bajrheni mind ever resisted
their Oraclys or the Oraclyne connection. But then neither the
Zevdrani High Health Councilor, the Zevdrani Oraclyne nor the
Bajrheni Oraclyne could have guessed that the Jedi Healers
would not keep their Oraclyne bottled up under strict security
and closely watched until the Archives were extensively
explored, much less allow them to do any *healing* at such a
tender stage of development...
In the Healer's quarters, Obi-Wan tried to explain about
Xanatos. "On one level I think it really may be Xanatos's
spirit trying to help us, Maki'." He paced while the Healer
sat, regarding him worriedly. "He said he repented as he died.
I want to believe him..." He stopped, closing his hands into
fists. "I *do* believe him," he added firmly. "I think it *is*
Xanatos!"
Maki' nodded, though he found the information amazing. "Jedi
who have gone into the Force have been known to speak to other
Jedi as spirits. It's not common, of course, but it does happen
under conditions of great stress. You may be right, Obi-Wan."
"Yet Xanatos also represents the Oraclyne connection," Obi-Wan
added, relaxing his fists. "He physically embodies it. He's the
one helping me. As you said, I draw strength from the
connection. He..." He paused, looking away in embarrassment.
"Maki', please don't think I'm crazy..."
"You are far from that, Padawan," Maki' said gently. "Remember,
I'm a Healer and a Jedi Master. I've pretty much heard
everything."
Obi-Wan swallowed, averting his eyes. "We've... had sex. Of
sorts, rubbing off against each other... in the spirit land.
I've kissed him..."
Maki' was swift to reassure the troubled young man. "You and
the Oraclyne connection are in harmony, which is as it should
be. What happens in the spirit land is representative of things
happening in this reality. A sexual encounter in the spirit
land is no more unusual than encountering someone who is dead.
You have strong sexual urges flowing through you as a result of
the aborted development of the Oraclyne. What you describe
makes a great deal of sense to me. And it only means that you
want the Oraclyne very much. I suspect Qui-Gon has also
encountered Xanatos, but likely with a greatly different
experience. He likely believes that Xanatos is trying to seduce
him."
Relieved, Obi-Wan nodded, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, I
think you're right about Xanatos and me. I thought I was going
insane, too..." Abruptly he felt a brief flicker of something
in the Force, just as he said the word "insane". [Huh?]
"Well, you've completed the mission," Maki' was continuing,
unaware of the bobble in the Force. "So I suppose we'd better
get you both back to Coruscant and work on those archives, eh?"
"Wait..." Obi-Wan's mind was suddenly spinning. A puzzle piece
had popped up. [Insane, insane... why does that seem
important?] When he understood, his face went pale, his eyes
widening in shock. [Oh, Force, I can't believe I never thought
of this...] "Qui-Gon is insane!" he said suddenly to the Healer
who was looking at him strangely.
"Yes, his behavior shows strong evidence of schizophrenia, a
serious psychotic mental illness... but we've talked about
this, Obi-Wan. What..."
Obi-Wan interrupted him excitedly. "Belvin Three! It's a
rehabilitation settlement, Maki'!"
The Healer was shaking his head, confused. "So?" But he was
worried enough to stand to face the young man, hoping he wasn't
going off the deep end, too.
The young Diplomat abruptly grabbed Maki' by the front of his
tunics, intent in his excitement to get his point across. "It
had a mental hospital, Maki'! Think about it - mental hospital,
Qui-Gon has gone insane since leaving the planet..."
Maki' frowned. "You think there's a connection?"
"Yes!" Obi-Wan released him suddenly, which had the effect of
rocking the Healer back on his heels. As Maki' got his balance
back, Obi-Wan returned to pacing. "Think about it!"
The Healer thought. [Qui-Gon insane... mental hospital...oh,
Force...] He suddenly saw what the padawan had. [Oh, Force,
no...] "The schizophrenia..." Maki' said, gulping. "From the
mental patients?"
Obi-Wan was nearly shaking from the discovery, though he felt
as much fear from it as relief. "Yes, it has to be... Qui-Gon,
damn him, never does anything halfway... he must have affected
the mental patients, too, perhaps taken their illnesses into
himself?"
"Can he do that?" Maki' was astounded, reeling from the
implications. [No WONDER!]
"I don't know, I don't know," Obi-Wan chanted, now frantically
pacing and waving his hands around in his agitation. "He must
have, that's the only explanation!" At this point he was
desperate to latch onto any explanation, any solution. He could
only hope it was the right one.
"Obi-Wan, calm down!" Maki' said, taking him by the arms to
stop his pacing. "This doesn't help heal Qui-Gon, it only
explains what happened. I still think we need to get him to
Coruscant..."
"Belvin Three," Obi-Wan moaned, stopped but still hanging onto
the Healer. "We have to take him back to Belvin Three..."
Maki' was about to slap him, shake him out of his panic, but
Obi-Wan abruptly wrenched himself away, taking a couple deep
breaths, forcibly steadying. "I have to go to him," he said,
the Force in his voice, his eyes still a little wild. "Call
Coruscant - call Gali and tell him to meet us on Belvin Three.
I have to go to Qui-Gon..."
"I'll call Gali," Maki' heard himself saying automatically
before he was aware of what the young Jedi had done. The Healer
gulped. There had been a good amount of telepathic suggestion
combined with that powerful Force-voice. But he nodded anyway,
agreeing with him. "Are you sure you can handle him alone?
We're likely going to have to put him under somehow to get him
to Belvin Three."
"I can handle my Oraclys," Obi-Wan said in a calm, even voice,
though internally he was anything but calm. His Oraclys was
desperate, despairing. "I must go to him."
"All right, but I'll be along as soon as I can," Maki' said as
Obi-Wan strode to the door. "Be careful!"
There was no answer. The Oraclys left to deal with his Oraclys,
determined with a burning resolve to heal his broken half.
What he found when he entered their quarters almost made him
faint. Qui-Gon was on his feet, his clothes torn, his face and
hands scratched and bleeding as if he'd been tearing at
himself. He was weaving from exhaustion, his eyes bloodshot and
tracking very little. But worse was that he was holding his
lightsaber hilt.
Reversed. Against himself.
"Qui-Gon, NO!" Obi-Wan cried out sharply and rushed him, only
to be repelled by a strong mental push. He scrambled to his
feet again. "You CAN'T!" he cried.
The deranged Jedi pointed at him, but the gesture accompanied
another strong pulse of repulsion, keeping his padawan at bay.
"I must," Qui-Gon muttered, the dread thick in his voice. "When
this is done I cannot hurt you any more. I'm at least glad of
that. I cannot continue as I am." He blinked, his eyes rheumy
from tears and blood. "I'm suffering, Obi-Wan. There is no
relief for me. I regret that you have to come with me, but
there is no other way, and you will not hurt any more. Let me
go..." His voice was calm and resigned, his despair final. It
was clear he was going to do it.
"I will NOT," Obi-Wan insisted, and with a burst of his own
mental power, he managed to turn the lightsaber hilt in the
other's hand to point it away. When Qui-Gon resisted and tried
to pull it back, he held on even more strongly. Fortunately
Qui-Gon's weariness effectively reduced his power to match his
padawan's. It was an impasse Obi-Wan had every intention of
maintaining as long as he could.
"P...please," Qui-Gon murmured. He lifted his eyes to meet
those of his Oraclys, and Obi-Wan winced at the pain therein.
"Please I beg you, Obi-Wan, I cannot live like this..."
"We're going to heal you," Obi-Wan interrupted, though seeing
his master's agony sorely tested his resolve.
"No," the Master Diplomat countered with a groan. "I want to
die, Obi-Wan, it will be better for both of us to be one with
the Force. Can't you see that? Please come with me..."
"No, Master," Obi-Wan answered, his heart breaking. He reached
out with both hands, but could come no closer. **MAKI'!!** he
called to the Healer. **Find a stun gun and get in here!!**
The deep blue eyes of his master called to him, begged him,
searched his eyes for any hint of compassion. "Please...
please..."
**Still talking to Gali... we may have found something else,**
Maki' hurriedly answered. **I've got a stun gun already...
Force, I never thought I'd have to use it, but...**
**HURRY!**
"Please..." the plaintive pleading continued. Obi-Wan felt it
wearing on him, touching his heart deeply. [Perhaps it would be
best... he's suffering so much...]
The mental struggle continued unabated. The two telepaths
locked wills and every ounce of mental power they could muster
to oppose one another, Qui-Gon to turn and activate the
lightsaber, Obi-Wan to keep him from killing himself. Obi-Wan
felt sweat pouring down his face, his muscles tightened, joints
locked in their titanic struggle. His heart now begged him to
stop hurting his darling, beloved master, to let him go, but
his will and the Oraclyne connection could not give in.
[Xanatos, HELP ME!] Obi-Wan called silently to the spirit of
the dead ex-Jedi... and to the connection binding his life to
Qui-Gon's to help him fight its breaking. [If you ever loved
him... STOP HIM!]
In the next moment, three things happened nearly
simultaneously. There was a sound with a flash. The lightsaber
abruptly glowed deadly green. Qui-Gon Jinn slumped to the
floor.
Obi-Wan Kenobi did not die. Something shoved him to the side.
It was the Healer, hastily retrieving the lightsaber and
turning it off before it could do any more damage to the couch.
The Jedi Padawan's knees gave out and he slumped down also into
an awkward kneeling position, stunned. He did not hear the
voice calling to him urgently; he could hear nothing, think
nothing. He saw an unmoving heap of brown on the floor before
him and he looked up with startling clarity into a glowing blue
face with tears streaming down it.
Then he fainted.
"Obi-Wan..." The voice came as if from far away... or else it
was his mind that was still far away, still stunned by...
His mind would not settle on what he thought just happened.
Except that it bothered him terribly that he was apparently
still alive.
"Obi-Wan, it's Maki'..." the voice murmured again.
His eyes flew open. He knew a surreal clarity of vision,
everything before him so sharp though he could feel nothing and
barely hear. "You have really beautiful eyes, Maki'... I never
noticed before the tiny specks of silver and gray in them..."
His voice sounded like someone else's, hollow and foreign. But
he could see motes of dust in the air, and the first two silver
strands in the Master Healer's dark brown hair.
"Obi-Wan," the voice said again like it was important for him
to hear his name. "He's alive, Qui-Gon's alive."
"I can see so much..." Obi-Wan murmured, studying the man's
face. "Why are there tears in your eyes?"
Maki' was having a hard time with his own emotions, his heart
still racing from the terrible near-miss. Only just as he'd
fired the stun gun at Qui-Gon had he realized that a second
later the Master Diplomat would have killed himself... and
doomed Obi-Wan. Then the Healer had dived for the flying
lightsaber, lest it roll into the path of either of the other
two men. The couch had been cut into several pieces as it was.
"Listen to me, Obi-Wan," he said again, shaking the young man's
shoulders gently. "Your master is alive!"
[He's experiencing a n'thala state,] Maki' thought, recalling
his training in psychology. A n'thala state was another altered
state of consciousness that happened after a brush with death.
Most of the time the person believed they had truly died, but
it could also happen that the person's emotions were frozen,
their senses dimmed except for one that was dramatically
enhanced, usually vision. It was also usually a state in which
they experienced a profound truth or revelation. It was induced
by a flood of a brain chemical called ketamine released in the
trauma.
Obi-Wan stared at the Healer, still entranced. "To heal is to
make love to the Force... is that what it feels like for you,
Master Maki'?"
The Healer wiped the tears from his face, but the Diplomat's
words brought forth a fresh flood. "That's exactly what it
feels like, Obi-Wan. You will know that even more deeply than
I, you know, once the Oraclyne comes into its own. When you
heal, you will never feel more at one with the Force in this
life. You will never feel more Jedi." His voice almost broke;
he ducked his head, looking away from him. "Obi-Wan, please...
Qui-Gon lives..."
"Lives..." Obi-Wan blinked, coming back to himself finally.
"Qui?"
"Lives," Maki' echoed, smiling. "He lives, Obi!!"
One sob broke loose from the young man's throat, then a torrent
followed as Obi-Wan's emotions rushed back and he fell,
sobbing, into the Healer's arms. Maki' held him close,
murmuring his encouragement, patting his hair and back, rocking
gently to comfort the stricken padawan. "It's all right now,
we're going to Belvin Three. The answers are there and in the
archive, Obi-Wan. We've found them. We're going to help heal
Qui-Gon..." He kept up the litany until the young man in his
arms quietened.
"I need to see him," Obi-Wan snuffled at last. "I feel so
weak..."
[Another characteristic of the n'tala state,] Maki' noted
soberly. [He's weak as a baby after that.] "I'll help you," he
murmured, mostly lifting him to his feet. He slung an arm
around the slim shoulders and half-walked, half-carried the
young man into the bedroom.
Qui-Gon lay on his back, unconscious, still in his tattered and
ruined clothes though Maki' had taken the time to clean the
Master's face and hands while Obi-Wan had knelt in a stupor
those first few minutes. Upon seeing him, a whimper escaped
Obi-Wan's throat. Then he was climbing up onto the bed on his
own, pulling the lax body into his arms. "Oh, my love," he
moaned, burying his face against his beloved Qui-Gon's neck as
he clung to him. "I let you go, I wanted the pain to end, too.
Please forgive me..."
Maki' settled onto a chair, stunned and dismayed to learn of
this. [Obi-Wan was ready to die, too. No wonder!] He thought
about what Gali had told him. [At least this will all be over
soon, finally! But we almost lost them...]
"Obi-Wan," he said finally, not wanting to interrupt but
needing to.
The young man looked over finally. "Thank you, Maki'. Thank you
so much for saving us. Even if he hates me for the rest of his
life when he wakes up." He sighed and rested his forehead on
his master's chest.
"He won't be waking up until we're on Belvin Three," Maki' said
somberly. "I had to drug him to keep him under."
Obi-Wan nodded, understanding. "So... Gali did find something
of use? You mentioned the archive." He sighed and shifted up to
a sitting position, arranging Qui-Gon so that the large man lay
half in his lap with Obi-Wan's legs to either side of him. He
needed to touch him, he realized, nearly trembling with the
need to be close to his Oraclys. The Oraclyne connection was as
powerful as ever. Absently he began to sift Qui-Gon's long hair
through his fingers.
"More than useful," Maki' replied, nodding. He smiled a bit at
the young man's loving and possessive actions with his master.
"We know exactly what went wrong. And the presence of the
mental hospital only decided what form of mental injury Qui-Gon
would suffer."
Suddenly Obi-Wan felt immensely tired, weary of the whole
thing. He held up a hand. "You can tell me when we get there,
Maki'. Sorry, but... I just want to be alone with him. Please?"
Maki' smiled, standing. "Of course, Obi-Wan. I'm sure you're
drained from all... this. And knowing men your age, you'll be
hungry, too. I'll go fix us something to eat for whenever
you're ready."
Alone at last with his beloved, Obi-Wan leaned back on the
headboard, his hands still threaded into the long, now-matted
hair. [My beautiful master... my beloved... my Oraclys...] He
looked down into the lax face of the man he loved so deeply.
Just minutes ago this face had been contorted with pain.
Frowning, Obi-Wan tried to shut out the image, but it was too
fresh, too recent. In the five years he'd lived, worked,
learned with Qui-Gon Jinn he'd seen him in pain, physical pain.
He'd seen him moody, excited, driven, dismayed, hopeful. He'd
certainly seen him calm, serene, at peace. But not even when he
was battling Xanatos, when Obi-Wan himself had betrayed him had
Qui-Gon ever looked like he had when he wanted to die to escape
being Oraclyne with Obi-Wan.
[Soon,] he thought to himself, caressing the relaxed face of
his beloved, [we will take away all that pain. We will return
to the moment when you kissed me, beloved Master, the moment
when our hearts were one and we sang our joy together as
Oraclyne.] He closed his eyes, and in a moment, had settled
into a healing trance.
He and Xanatos stood on top of a large, black precipice, facing
one another. "The mountain," Obi-Wan sighed. He looked to one
side - the beautiful forested valley stretched away below,
shadowed in mist. The other side was no more than a deep, black
hole.
"Yes," Xanatos sighed, slipping an arm around Obi-Wan's waist,
drawing him close to his side. "He is down there, sleeping. But
now there is hope, Obi." The spirit-man leaned in, kissing his
cheek tenderly. "I'm sorry I failed you."
Obi-Wan abruptly found himself pulling the other man into his
arms, kissing his cheek as well. "You didn't fail me, Xanatos,"
he murmured, nuzzling his jaw. "Force, your strength was all
that allowed me to hold on as long as I did. It was just
enough."
"I'm so glad... and glad that you love him so deeply," Xanatos
murmured, smiling into his hair. "When he is fully healed, then
I will have redeemed myself. Then I will have my peace."
"Thank you, Xani," Obi-Wan murmured quietly, then kissed him
slowly and tenderly.
On Coruscant, Master Contemplative Yoda was contemplating
sending Artificers to Zevdra to upgrade their computerized
archival system to something less than useless. It was bad
enough that the Healers were so frustrated with it. Lives were
at stake, most notably the lives of two Diplomats very near and
dear to his heart.
"Dispersal," Master Healer Hyr was explaining in the meeting
between Yoda, Masters Poof and Koon, and himself. "The word
'dispersal' kept coming up everywhere in the archive. But no
explanation of what that meant! It was maddening, and I almost
called the Oraclyne on Zevdra. But then I found it." The
Pytthrvan's head crest bounced in his excitement. "The Oraclyne
healings occur, much like our Force healings, as a shifting of
the balance between positive or Light energies and negative,
Dark energies. The Oraclyne Healers take the negative into
themselves as they heal, then 'disperse' the negative into a
non-organic body, usually the atmosphere where it is spent in
the weather patterns. Positive energies in the person or object
being healed are left behind and the healing takes place."
"Let me guess," Plo Koon spoke up, having similar thoughts
about the archive as Yoda, "if the Oraclyne doesn't know to do
this, there's trouble."
Gali spread his lavender-tinged hands in frustration. "On this
scale, yes, but we did not guess this. We Jedi do it
automatically without thinking, releasing negative energies
into the Force, but we don't create *storms*. Qui-Gon Jinn's
mental illness stems directly from this failure to disperse the
negative energies which had gathered in him."
"Not failure, this," Yoda spoke up, tapping his stick on the
floor in irritation. "Talk of reversing their imprinting caused
them to leave Coruscant. The first and true failure is the
Council's. Respected this entire process, we have not. If
stayed they had, discovered what they needed to know, we would
have."
"I'm thinking that Qui-Gon did overdo things," Yarael Poof
commented thoughtfully. "But I don't know that he had a choice.
The healing of the disease agent in the water was something he
could indeed handle, and I believe it's all he thought he was
attempting. But apparently the Oraclyne was drawn into healing
some of the mental patients as well. Obviously controls need to
be developed."
"And the psychoses were transferred to Qui-Gon and trapped
there when the negative energy was not released," Gali added
somberly.
He and Yoda had had a long discussion with Doctor Sedth Mobal
on Belvin Three, who had been exacting in his details of the
actual healing when Yoda had spoken with him originally, but
had mentioned nothing of other details that he thought at the
time were unrelated. To their shock, the doctor reported that,
in the past few days since the Jedi's visit, nine patients at
the hospital had been re-evaluated because of behavioral
changes... and all nine were showing marked improvement in
their schizophrenic conditions, some to the point where they
could be released soon. When pressed, Mobal also revealed that
the weather that day had been "peculiar", that a storm had
brewed up then mysteriously vanished before it could let loose.
Gali called Maki' Windsailor on the transport nearing Belvin
Three with the news.
When the call came, Maki' asked his partner to hold for a
minute. Then he went to get the younger Diplomat. When he
entered the quarters, the sight he saw touched his heart
deeply. The young man had Qui-Gon on his stomach but draped
over his padawan's lap so Obi-Wan could brush his long hair. At
first Obi-Wan did not seem to notice that he was being watched,
so intent was he on his task. Maki' leaned against the doorpost
for a moment to observe.
"I remember when you first let me do this, Master," Obi-Wan was
whispering to the elder Diplomat. It was because of a silly
prank he'd pulled on his master at a time when he thought he
wanted more attention from him. He'd been fourteen and a half.
"You did not get angry at me even with egg dripping down your
face, and me laughing hysterically at you. I felt such a calm
come over me when I washed it out of your hair, and brushing
your hair like this later was like meditating." He paused
momentarily to lean down, a fall of rich, dark brown hair
pressed against his cheek.
"Padawan," Maki' said quietly from the door.
Obi-wan straightened solemnly. He went back to the brushing,
using long, slow strokes. "Yes, Master..."
"Gali has called with some important information," Maki'
explained, watching him with relief and a little envy. "You
need to hear this with me."
Obi-Wan nodded and laid aside the brush. The Healer came in and
helped him turn the Master Diplomat back onto his back,
settling him more comfortably. Then Obi-Wan drew on his robe
and nodded for the Healer to precede him.
The young Senior Padawan Diplomat bore the news calmly though
he, too, was relieved to have found the answers they'd needed
so desperately. "I understand what must be done now, Master
Gali," he murmured thoughtfully. "I believe that once he's on
Belvin Three and is made to understand what must happen,
everything will fall into place."
Maki' frowned, looking at the serene young face of the man
beside him. "You don't believe he will resist releasing the
energies? After what nearly happened?"
Obi-Wan thought carefully before answering. [Qui-Gon wanted to
die. If he knew that now everything can be made right again,
would he still want that? Can he understand? The mental illness
cannot be healed until after all that energy is released. But
he has to release it...] "Master, I believe that he knows
something has to be released... rage, if nothing else. That he
has already tried to do - you saw the condition of his clothes
and skin. But apparently the where is critical. The energies
must be released where they are gathered. It could be that the
energies have their own Force-signature that matches the planet
of origin." He sighed, looking again at the image of the other
Healer on the vidscreen. "I don't know, Master Gali, the Force
is the Force. But the location seems to be important. I just
*feel* that it will be different once we land on Belvin Three."
"The archives are very clear on that, Obi-Wan," Gali replied
somberly. "The dispersal must take place where the negative
energies are originally concentrated. I imagine sometime in the
future we ought to study that phenomenon further. But for now,
we'll have to trust your intuition."
They signed off with the Pytthrvan Healer. Obi-Wan turned to
Maki'. "We must prepare. Call Dr. Mobal on Belvin Three."
Maki' narrowed his eyes at him. "You're sure about this..."
"I only know this," Obi-Wan sighed, laying a hand on the man's
arm. "The Oraclyne connection is a very strong, powerful one.
My feelings tell me that once Qui-Gon has gotten rid of all
that dark energy, the Oraclyne connection is likely to take
over. We know that one Oraclys will automatically go into a
healing mode to heal the other at need. That's likely to happen
then. I'm planning on trusting in that."
Maki' laid his hand atop Obi-Wan's. "The Force be with both of
you, Obi." He smiled and squeezed the young man's hand in
encouragement, then turned and activated the comterminal again.
(Author's Note: The "n'thala state" is based on a real
phenomenon related to near-death experiences. In this state,
the chemical ketamine is released to block binding sites for
the neurotransmitter glutamate which floods the brain in
conditions of great mental trauma. James Clavell, in his novel
"Shogun", described the main character, Anjin-san, undergoing
such a state after he attempts ritual suicide. Obi-Wan's
experience is roughly based on that.)
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