Master Apprentice Archive A Prize of War Quick search:

A Prize of War

by Karita Wyr (KaritaWyr@aol.com)

Archive: Yes to MA and Boys in Chains. Anyone else please ask.

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: NC-17

Categories: AU, First-time, Action/adventure, Challenge

Spoilers: Not a blessed one

Warnings: Some brief m/f mentioned. This story is complete, but there are still some avenues left to be explored at a later date. Not every question raised is answered here.

Summary: While negotiating on behalf of the Republic, Qui-Gon is forced to accept a prize of war.

Notes: Mac came up with the title and a basic idea and said run with it...I ran, albeit slowly. Thanks, Mac. Also, thanks to Riley who said she would happily read anything I ever write! To my betas, Kimdy and Aayesha, I wish you your choice of Jedi in rip away clothing. All decisions and mistakes are ultimately mine.

Disclaimer: You know the drill - not mine, they're George's. Why? Why? Why?

Feedback: Yes, please.

Men fought wars. All men on all planets. There were at least a dozen other species Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn could quickly bring to mind that had never fought a war in their recorded histories, yet no matter how outwardly peaceful, every single human civilization engaged in bloody battle at least once. There were some races whose concept of peace was a day bombs did not hail down on their homes.

What drove men to destroy themselves in this manner? Greed. Lust for glory. Pride. Pride was the reason Qui-Gon was on Nazanin waiting for daybreak while attempting to meditate in a leaky canvas tent.

Nazanin was one of those rare worlds allowed partial admittance into the Republic. That was not precisely correct. Part of Nazanin, the western hemisphere known as Naza, had been a full member of the Republic for seven years. The eastern hemisphere, Anin, refused to enter unless the planet was united under one rule, their rule. Every decade or two the Anin made another bid to unite the planet. That time had come again. The Anin were a tenacious people, who refused to be intimidated by the trained Republic forces sent to protect Naza. They fought ferociously, but ultimately lost the war.

When the end appeared near, Qui-Gon had joined the Republic forces on Nazanin. His duty was to oversee the final stages of the war, to ensure that as few lives as possible were lost to a foregone conclusion. This was a Jedi's role in battle. To save lives, not destroy them. Next, his duty would be to negotiate a peace accord that would hopefully last more years than he could count on his fingers. The Anin leaders would not accept a negotiator who had not been a part of the battle, so out of necessity Qui-Gon Jinn had been appointed leader of the Naza defense. In less than an hour he would slog out onto the muddy field of the treaty compound to bring a fragile peace to this world.

As the cool, drizzly, morning gave way to sunshine and warmth, the humidity became oppressive. Out of necessity, Qui-Gon had shed his Jedi robe. Happily for all concerned, the negotiations were proceeding smoothly. The Anin general, clan leader Cizo Kedar, a robust, red-haired man of middle age, graciously conceded to every major point the Naza requested. The documents were nearly completed when Kedar reached out a hand and stilled Qui-Gon's lightpen. The man smiled and said, "We have yet to discuss the Adajia."

There was little Master Jinn liked less than being unprepared for a negotiation. Nowhere in the volumes of material provided for this mission had the term Adajia come up. He was at a loss and there was nothing to do but admit it.

"Adajia? I am afraid I do not know to what you refer, General Kedar." Qui-Gon did his best to project his honest bewilderment.

Kedar laughed heartily. "Why the prize of war, Master Jinn. It is yours to claim, as leader of the Naza."

This would be easily handled, Qui-Gon thought. "I am afraid the Jedi cannot accept gifts."

Muttering was heard amidst Kedar's men. They shifted uncomfortably and each man's hand drifted down to the hilt of his ceremonial sword. Swords that Qui-Gon could tell were still quite lethal despite their formal spit and polish. Kedar's previous good humor had fled as well, but he remained calmer than his men. "I gather you were not given all the information regarding our customs, Master Jinn. I can only guess as to why. Let me explain this now. The Adajia is not a gift or a bribe. It is a great honor to receive the Adajia. The man or woman chosen as the Adajia takes the duty seriously. It is an honor to be chosen."

Qui-Gon was aghast. "Man or woman? The Adajia is a person?"

"Our greatest warrior is chosen and awarded to the leader of the triumphant army for a period of three years. This gesture assures the victor of our willingness to maintain peace. The tradition started with the earliest clans. With the strongest warrior as servant-protector to the victor, the defeated could hardly make war again. More recently, the Adajia serves as a reminder to the Anin of our humility."

Inner peace was a long way away as Qui-Gin struggled with this new and disturbing information. He absently stroked his bearded jaw before asking, "Servant-protector? What does this entail?"

Kedar was secretly pleased to note that the Master Jedi was discomfited. Tales abounded of the Jedi's analytical and dispassionate nature. It was good to see they were still subject to human emotions, human frailties. A near smirk played about Kedar's lips as he spoke, "The Adajia is protector and companion, it is his duty to provide whatever his master desires within his capabilities."

Blood drained quickly from Qui-Gon's face. This could not be happening. He was being forced into accepting what for all intents and purposes was a slave. To decline the Adajia would be tantamount to igniting his lightsaber and lopping off Kedar's head; the war would begin anew. Closing his eyes, he reached out to the Force. What he felt startled him. While his own emotions were swirling about like leaves in the wind, the Force was calm as a forest lake. Not only must he accept the Adajia for the sake of peace, but the Force wished it as well. When he opened his eyes, he bowed his head slightly to Kedar. "It would be my sincerest honor to accept the terms we have agreed to on behalf of the Naza."

"And the Adajia?"

"I will be pleased to accept the Adajia," Qui-Gon said graciously. Perhaps the next three years would be a learning experience. The expertise of a battle-seasoned warrior from another culture could be invaluable. Maybe the man, or woman, would prove to be a good sparring partner for himself or a knowledgeable teacher for the Strategies of War seminars at the Temple.

With a handclap, Kedar summoned a sergeant. "Has the Adajia arrived from the western front?"

"Yes, General. He is waiting in your tent, sir."

The general and Qui-Gon rose and walked swiftly across the treaty compound to Kedar's tent. Kedar threw back the tent flap with a flourish and stood back, allowing Qui-Gon to enter first. As expected the man inside was still muddied and disheveled from battle and travel. He wore traditional Anin battle dress; boots, a once white shirt, a black leather vest and a kilt in dark blues and greens, the pattern denoting his clan affiliation. Little else about him was as expected.

Qui-Gon inwardly chastised himself for having imagined Anin's greatest warrior to be a stout, rough man with bad posture and disfiguring scars. As a Jedi and the former Padawan of the diminutive Master Yoda, he should have known better than to entertain such a narrow view. This man was perhaps half his age, slender, but with a tightly coiled strength. He was of average height, had no visible slouch, and despite the dirt and a variety of minor battle injuries, a nearly flawless complexion. And that hair, was it the late-morning sun streaming into the tent, that made it that color, like well-aged brandy? He had almost aristocratic features, high cheekbones and a cleft in a strong and stubborn chin. Perhaps, the nose was a tad too wide. Yes, it was. Qui-Gon was almost relieved to find a physical flaw on the young man, no matter how slight. And then he noticed the eyes; large, wide-spaced, blue-gray eyes that watched him with cool detachment. Combined with the thick lashes that surrounded them, they were almost femininely lovely. The young man should be in holo-vids; men and women alike would surely flock to see him. This was his Adajia, the one who would swear to do whatever he desired that was within his capabilities?

Kedar moved forward to make the introductions. "Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, this is your Adajia, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Qui-Gon reached out to shake the young man's hand. The greeting was accepted, but Kenobi said nothing merely studied Qui-Gon silently.

Kedar hastened to explain, "He is not allowed to speak to you until he offers you the ritual words. Tonight when the sun's light is gone, you shall claim your prize."

A ring of torches as well as Nazanin's three moons lighted the barren field. Two of those moons were nearly full, while the third was at a quarter. It was almost as bright as dawn and yet it was the heart of the night.

A thicket of trees stood at the north end of the field. The Anin party gathered on the west side, the Naza leaders on the east. Qui-Gon waited at the south end. To his side stood Bacali Mertal, a charming, exceedingly brilliant woman of about seventy standard years. She served the Naza as a combat advisor, having once commanded the army herself. Today it was her unique duty to guide Qui-Gon through the ritual.

At the appointed hour, the sorrowful sound of a horn floated across the green. From out of the shadowy cluster of trees walked Obi-Wan Kenobi. He strode purposefully across the field, his sword dangling from his right hand, accompanied only by the sound of crackling torches. Qui-Gon noted that he wore his battle uniform, although it and he were much cleaner now. The young warrior walked to the center of the field, executed a precise right turn and continued forward.

Bacali moved closer to Qui-Gon, speaking in a low whisper, " I remember when I was the recipient of the Adajia, some thirty years ago."

Qui-Gon gave the woman a penetrating look, well aware that he should not be surprised by this revelation, seeing as he was provided with absolutely no information about the Adajia prior to today.

"Why do you think they chose me as your guide for this ceremony?" She smiled fondly in remembrance of a similar rite in her past. "I was the Sytra, the Master, and a soldier named Carolus Davard was my Adajia. He was a fine warrior and companion, but not much to look at. Not like that one." Her eyes darted toward Obi-Wan, who had stopped directly in front of Cizo Kedar.

Obi-Wan bowed slightly to Kedar, lowered his head and slowly raised his sword in both hands, an offering. Kedar accepted the sword reverently and handed it to the sergeant behind him. The Anin leader squared his shoulders and proclaimed loudly to the assembled crowds, "Hala maey ran winar lon falla sak, Adajia."

"May the heavens guide you on your journey, Adajia." Bacali translated the ancient Nazanin language, then continued to explain, "By returning his sword, Obi-Wan is renouncing his status as an Anin commander."

Pressing his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, Kedar bade the young man to look up. He pressed their foreheads together briefly then released him. Obi-Wan was instantly surrounded be a group of Anin women in white robes with swirling blue embroidery.

"White is the color of cleansing, blue of renewal. This is a transitional stage, the Adajia belongs to the Anin no longer, nor is he yet yours to command."

Every now and then, between the white-robed figures, Qui-Gon caught a glimpse of pale flesh reflecting bright moonlight. When the women parted, Obi-Wan was standing before a fire clothed only in a long blue silk robe, his battle clothes piled in his arms. One by one the garments were dropped into the fire, and each time the fire glowed a dazzling white. The acrid smell of burning leather and wool drifted on the light wind. When the last item caught fire, the young man circled the fire once to his right and once to his left. Bacali explained that this was the end and the beginning for the Adajia.

Even though the description of the ritual was fascinating, it was not the words that held Qui-Gon's attention; it was the young warrior. Having completed the circles, he walked toward Qui-Gon. Had Kenobi's gait changed from purposeful stride to languid saunter? Was it Qui-Gon's imagination, or did the way the young man walked accentuate the flutter of the fine blue silk across his perfect skin?

Before he reached them, Bacali leaned in for one last whisper to Qui-Gon, "He is your servant-protector for three years. My years with Carolus were quite enjoyable." The woman's fading brown eyes now revealed an amber spark, a flicker of pleasant memories too strong to resist. Qui-Gon realized she and her Adajia had shared more than time. Was she suggesting he and this young man would also? She smiled at Qui-Gon, then nodded to Kenobi, "I've known of him for a long time. Met him on occasion. He's a smart one, maybe too smart, too headstrong and stubborn. He will challenge your patience. You may tell yourself that accepting the Adajia was a means to an end. And yes, there is a higher purpose this serves for the Anin, for the Republic, for peace. Regardless of all that, your path is joined with Obi-Wan's. Enjoy the journey you take together."

The young man reached them then and knelt gracefully before Qui-Gon. He was extraordinarily attractive. The firelight gilded his features and the shimmering blue of the robe highlighted those remarkable eyes. Even if Qui-Gon was required to look elsewhere or even move he could not have done so; he was staked to the ground by Obi-Wan's intense gaze.

"Tae jada lon Adajia. Wye lo, ta Sytra, tae quannel maric tae hacce quannel." Obi-Wan intoned. **I am your Adajia. To you, my Master, I give all I can give.** The words were endowed with a beautiful lilt.

Qui-Gon knew his ritual response to that pledge. "Tae karsu lon hadapa, ta Adajia." I accept your gifts, my Adajia.

The ceremony was almost over, only the final step was yet to be taken. Obi-Wan stood up, his gaze still fixed on Qui-Gon, wordlessly daring the Jedi to complete the rite in the traditional manner. It was not required that Qui-Gon do so. He merely had to grasp the young man's hands and place them against his heart to end the ceremony. The ancients intended that it be completed with a kiss. Noting the level stare, Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan did not believe he would do the latter and therefore he must.

Qui-Gon leaned down and brushed soft lips with his own, teasing over them slowly, tantalizingly. Just as he felt the young man begin to shift into the kiss, he pulled away, a challenge of his own issued. He was bestowed with a slight nod of acknowledgement and a bemused smile. The journey had begun.

As soon as the ceremony was over, a Republic officer quietly took Qui-Gon aside. "Sir, a troop transport will be leaving Nazanin in three hours. Perhaps, you would like to join us. It will provide the quickest way to Coruscant."

They would be able to leave Nazanin and return to the Jedi Temple sooner than Qui-Gon had anticipated. Excellent. There were certain matters that needed to be discussed with the Council. "Is there room for myself and Kenobi?" he asked.

"Pardon, sir."

"The Anin young man. My prize." Qui-Gon answered wryly and gestured to where Obi-Wan was standing, engaged in a conversation with Bacali; both were smiling animatedly.

The officer looked uneasy. Qui-Gon thought he could not be nearly as uncomfortable with the situation as he himself was. "Oh, well, sir, I am afraid you will have to share a cabin."

"Why am I not surprised?" The Jedi Master knew his existence was never as uncomplicated as he might like.

Bacali had been half listening to the exchange. "I know you have several details to take care of yet, Master Jinn. Obi-Wan also has last minute obligations. I will see that he gets to the transport," she offered. Clearly, she had taken a liking to the young man.

Obi-Wan was standing by docilely at Bacali's side with his hands clasped loosely in front of him. The breeze lightly ruffled his short hair. He looked angelic. Certainly that was a fagade. Even in their brief acquaintance he knew this man was no innocent, but he played it well now. Even Bacali had said he was known to be stubborn. But until Qui-Gon knew the young man better, he would have to take him at face value. Unfortunately, that seemed to change moment by moment.

"That would be most appreciated, Bacali. Obi-Wan, is that acceptable to you?" Qui-Gon inquired.

A brief smile from the young man and, "As my Master wishes." His voice dripped honey, in an accent wholly unlike the one he had used before. This one was more cultured, likely studied, and yet it suited him as well as the lilting Anin accent. Qui-Gon was positive there were more surprises buried beneath that fascinating surface. Could he unearth them all in the next three years?

"I shall see you on board then," he said with a curt nod as he disappeared into the milling crowd.

Two-and-a-half hours later, Obi-Wan located Qui-Gon Jinn's assigned cabin. He dropped his worn duffel bag on the nearest chair and surveyed the room. As leader of the Republic forces here at Nazanin, Jinn commanded a great deal of respect and consequently had been provided with a senior officer's cabin. The room contained a desk with a computer terminal, a small sitting area that included a couch, and a private bath. Unfortunately there was only one bed. Obi-Wan snorted indelicately and muttered, "As expected. At least there is a couch." Of course, he might not even be sleeping on that couch.

He tested the cushions. Not too bad. He had slept in much worse places. The worst that came to mind was an exposed rock ledge about a meter wide and the ground at least two thousand meters straight down. And, oh yes, his quarry, a rather psychopathic deserter with violent tendencies, was on a similar ledge somewhere below, hopefully not trying to climb back up. Definitely that was the worst.

It was time to start unpacking. He did not have much, some personal items and a few changes of clothes. And the blue silk robe. He held it in his hands and let the smooth material slide through his fingers. The garment was lovely, a traditional Anin design. The Anin people were big on tradition as was Obi-Wan. Even though the Anin employed modern weaponry in warfare they still wore the same mode of battle dress they had for more than a millennium. They also schooled all the young people in the art of sword fighting. Obi-Wan enjoyed swordplay even if it was only at demonstrations and competitions. He was good, too. Very good.

Yes, tradition was important to him, still and all, he was glad he was not required to wear the blue silk for the next three years. He was much more comfortable now, practically dressed in black trousers tucked into black boots and a green shirt. He was still a bit irked that his blaster had been confiscated when he boarded the transport. Strangely, though, he was allowed to keep the knife that was tucked into a special slot in his boot. Either they had not noticed, which was doubtful, or they had thought, "How cute. The little boy has a knife." Obi-Wan shrugged at the thought. People misjudged his age and abilities all too often. It usually worked to his advantage. Besides, no one would ever think it was "cute" when that knife was pressed to their jugular. No one had yet.

Sitting down at the desk, he tried to log on to the computer to no avail. He was noisily tapping his fingers against the desk pondering the best way to circumvent the system when Qui-Gon walked into the cabin.

"Hello, Obi-Wan. I am glad to see you arrived safely." Qui-Gon noticed the drumming fingers. "Problem?"

The young man waved at the computer screen. "No access," he stated flatly.

Qui-Gon came to stand next to him, bent over and began briskly hitting keys. His long silver-brown hair brushed against Obi-Wan's cheek, tickling just a little. Obi-Wan flinched away from the contact while Qui-Gon, noting the other man's distress at his nearness, inched away.

Screens flickered past at blinding speed until Qui-Gon located what he was looking for. A few more keystrokes and he was done. "It's only minimal security, but that should get you anything you need."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you. I think I would enjoy a walk about the ship if you have no immediate need of me." He regarded Qui-Gon cautiously, half-expecting the man to say "no" even though he had been nothing but gracious thus far.

"Certainly. I will see you later." Qui-Gon watched the young man leave in a flurry, wondering how they were going to get through the next few years.

He was so confused, unsure of what was required of him, and where he stood with Obi-Wan. He knew he was unsettled when the young man called him Master. It emphasized Obi-Wan's subservient position. Qui-Gon had no desire to take advantage of him. And, damn it all, he was still upset at the Council for not apprising him of the situation in advance. This being the very same Council who at this time was refusing to accept non-emergency transmissions from him. Until he was able to speak with them he was most definitely stuck with the young man. He would give Obi-Wan an hour to roam the ship and then he would seek him out. They definitely need to talk.

During the time Obi-Wan wandered the corridors, the ship lifted off from Nazanin. The large transport was quite slow in a planetary atmosphere and regular space, therefore strapping in had been unnecessary. The ship now was in hyperspace and Obi-Wan was alone in one of the many gunnery stations.

He sat slouched in a leather chair, idly swiveling back and forth, staring out the viewport into the deadness of hyperspace. He had already studied the instruments and controls and found nothing outside of his experience, so he was left with little to do but think. Something he was seriously trying to avoid.

The swoosh of the door opening behind him brought him out of his contemplation of nothing. It was the Jedi who had entered the room. He knew it with the same certainty that he sometimes knew from which direction the next laser blast would come in battle or how he knew when that rockslide began that his best friend was going to die. The same gift that saved his own life could not always aid him in saving the ones he cared about; it was disturbing, as was the presence of the man behind him. Obi-Wan straightened up in his chair and swiveled to face the other man. He waited.

Qui-Gon appraised the young man before him. Outwardly, there was nothing to be faulted in his behavior, but below the carefully controlled exterior, it seemed Obi-Wan had not yet come to terms with all that he was feeling and thinking. He was right about them needing to clear the air, but first he had a few unrelated questions.

"So there you are. I wondered where I might find you. I admit I am quite curious as to how you found this place, let alone how you got in here. This area is code-locked and its location is not available on any of the general ship schematics."

Obi-Wan smirked. "I have a way with locks." That was an understatement. He had not encountered a door yet he could not open by one means or another.

Qui-Gon laughed. "Mighty handy talent. So did you pick this place at random?'

Confusion furrowed the young man's brow. "No, it was on the map on the terminal in your room when you logged on."

Qui-Gon was dumbfounded. That was impossible. He had barely registered what he was seeing as it went past. "That map was only visible for a fraction of a second."

"It's something I have always been able to do. I see a map once and I remember it. I never really thought about it being unusual."

"I would venture to guess you do not get lost much."

"No, I don't. You came looking for me. Is there something I can do for you?" Obi-Wan was wearying of the chitchat and was ready to get down to business.

With a sigh, Qui-Gon sat down in the chair next to Obi-Wan's. "We need to talk and I am certain you know what about, this arrangement that we seem to be forced into."

"It's quite simple. I am your servant-protector for three years. I will guard you against your enemies as well as do anything else you require, including sexual favors."

Quickly Qui-Gon's hand came up. "Stop right there. I would never ask that of you."

"But the point is you can, Master Jinn. You can. Think about that. You can ask me for anything I can provide. Anything at all." Even as Obi-Wan said these words he wondered what the older man might ask of him. He admitted to himself that he was nervous about the future; and maybe it had not been a good idea to dare the Jedi to kiss him at the conclusion of the ceremony, but Obi-Wan did not always think through the consequences of his actions. Nonetheless, he was prepared to do as tradition dictated. He would serve without hesitation regardless of what task he was to perform.

The man seated across from him did not see things as simply. This was an impossible situation, utterly impossible. What had the Force intended when it dropped Obi-Wan Kenobi into his life? Certainly the Council would not allow this arrangement to continue. Obi-Wan probably did not want this either. "Why did you agree to this? To be the Adajia?"

"First of all, I was chosen. It is an honor to be the Adajia. One must have attained a certain level of success to even be considered. I realize you know little about me, but I assure you I am an excellent commander. Even when one finds success along their chosen path, there is always more to discover. The next three years will be a growth experience for myself. Besides what I may learn from you, I shall acquire humility and patience."

Unwittingly, both men had adopted a similar posture; feet apart, forearms resting on their knees, leaning forward, each focused solely on the other. Obi-Wan's expression was of barely controlled frustration. Qui-Gon knew this because the young man was tapping his toes against the metal floor, in the same rhythm he had drummed his fingers on the desk before. Obi-Wan seemed to need an outlet for an abundance of nervous energy.

Attempting to calm the young man's rising emotions, Qui-Gon soothed, " I admire your dedication to your homeland and your people's beliefs. And I assure I do not doubt your capabilities. Although, I will admit your appearance is unexpected."

"As is yours." Obi-Wan appeared to relax a bit; he even managed a slight smile.

The Jedi Master arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "And what were you expecting?"

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair and cocked his head to the side, making the pretense of thinking hard. "Well, the title Jedi Master tends to make one imagine a dried up old academic. You look like a warrior."

"I am, but there is more to me than that. Although your assessment is fair enough. I do look like a warrior and you..."

"Don't look like one, " the young man interrupted. "I realize I look far too young to have achieved so much. I have to constantly prove myself because of my youthful appearance."

Youthful appearance? Perhaps, that was part of his dilemma, thought Qui-Gon. Personally, he believed others saw what he saw when he first beheld his Adajia. Those eyes, they practically glowed with some inner flame, leading one to make promises they could never keep just to be held in their burning embrace. Temptation, was what he was, the man appeared to be made for play not work. Did he not realize this? Did he not realize that when he rather casually mentioned sexual favors that Qui-Gon began to sweat? He probably did not. Obi-Wan Kenobi did not appear to be a tease. He was attractive, undeniably so, but obviously he underestimated himself in a different way than others did.

Obi-Wan continued on, "You have concerns about me. I will be loyal to you. I am no spy. I would never do something that would be damaging to you or those you serve. If I did and your people did not punish me, mine would. It is a serious matter to go against the spirit of the Adajia. It is treason. The punishment is death."

This was far more than Qui-Gon had suspected. "I accept that you must follow the dictates of your people, Obi-Wan. And I believe you to be an honorable man, but until I speak to the Jedi Council, I am at a loss with how to proceed. I was purposely left ignorant of the Adajia tradition and I want to know why. I need to find out what this all means, what the Council and the Anin have in store for us."

"You can't give me back, Jinn. The Adajia is non-returnable. The Anin will not take kindly to it. Nor will they be pleased to find you did not make some use of me. I can not be kept on Coruscant for three years without serving my Sytra."

Qui-Gon reached out and gently placed a hand on the younger man's knee. "Please be patient with me until we reach Coruscant and talk to the Council. Let us spend this trip getting more comfortable with one another and then after we talk to the Council we can truly begin as your people intend."

Obi-Wan placed a hand over Qui-Gon's. "Agreed."

Together they stood and headed for the door. Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan to ask, "Do you have any other talents I should know about other than a photographic memory and a knack for overriding coded locks?"

A mischievous light shone in Obi-Wan's eyes as he proceeded past the Jedi. "I guess you will learn about them as I need to utilize them." Then he strode down the corridor unaware of the intent blue gaze following him.

It was only two days passage to Coruscant. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spent that time cautiously getting to know one another. Both had a fondness for holo-chess, but Obi-Wan became bored after one or two games and he often fidgeted or got up to get something to eat or drink while Qui-Gon pondered his moves. Strangely, though, he could spend hours at the computer researching anything from the recently-developed twin-ion engine to the best restaurant in Coruscant that served mahifish, a Nazanin delicacy.

On the second evening, Qui-Gon was listening to soft music from the cabin's built-in entertainment center. He simply sat, with his eyes closed, letting the music wash over him. It was an entirely pleasant experience that was only slightly marred by Obi-Wan's exasperated muttering about the lack of towels.

"The droids know there are two of us. I know CD7 units have the ability to count to at least twenty. We give then four dirty towels, they bring back two," the young man complained as he roughly ran his fingers through his hair, causing bits of it to stand on end. He had cabin fever; he knew it. As soon as the ship's captain got wind of his foray into the gunnery stations, he had been confined to quarters. Although Qui-Gon had argued on his behalf, he finally acquiesced, telling Obi-Wan it was best not to upset a fleet officer for you never knew when their services might be desperately needed.

The end result was that he was short-tempered and ready to climb the walls or cut them open. Even the Delonian flute music was frazzling his nerves. Finally he whirled on Qui-Gon. "How can you just sit and listen to that? I thought all Jedi pursued knowledge and wisdom? What can this teach you?"

Qui-Gon slowly opened his eyes and smiled calmly at the flushed young man. "You can learn a lot about yourself if you just listen."

"Learn about myself? What is there to learn? I am twenty-five years old. I realize that, Fates willing, I have many years left and many journeys to make, but what can I learn about myself that I don't already know?"

The Jedi beckoned the young man over as he knelt on the floor. Obi-Wan mimicked Qui-Gon's posture. The men were facing each other. One serene and quietly breathing, one frustrated and quivering with unreleased tension.

"Give me your hands and close your eyes," Qui-Gon commanded.

Doing as he was ordered, Obi-Wan gingerly rested his palms on Qui-Gon's larger ones and closed his eyes. He felt less agitated already. Perhaps the Jedi was using some Force touch to calm him?

"Now, forget all about this room, the ship, where we are headed, even who you are and just listen to the music. Become aware of nothing but the music and how it makes you feel."

They sat in silence for several minutes. Watching the young man's face, Qui-Gon could tell when Obi-Wan understood. The frown of concentration turned into a radiant smile that stole the Jedi's breath away.

"What did you hear, Obi-Wan?"

Slowly Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open. They were the clearest blue the Jedi had ever seen, like a cloudless sky. When the young man spoke, his voice held a note of wonder. "All I heard was the flute and then slowly the music changed to sound like raindrops gently plopping onto the surface of a lake, even though I was dimly aware that the flute still played. It was very peaceful."

"Did you learn anything from this?" Qui-Gon prodded.

Obi-Wan nodded sheepishly. "I did. I learned I can relax, even confined to quarters, if I just allow myself to. I am sorry I doubted you and I appreciate your patience with me." Becoming aware that his hands still rested in Qui-Gon's, he grasped them and gave a tight squeeze. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Qui-Gon smiled, "Truly, it was my pleasure."

For the remainder of the trip to Coruscant, Obi-Wan behaved less like a caged animal. Soon they would arrive at their destination and he would feel more settled. The relaxation exercise had helped him. So had the fact that Qui-Gon had demanded nothing from him other than he attempt the exercise. Both nights, Obi-Wan had slept on the couch untouched.

As he gathered the few things he had brought out during the journey, he allowed himself time to wonder about Qui-Gon Jinn. Oh, he knew the man would not force himself on him physically; he was too honorable for that. And too attractive to not be able to find partners who were completely unbound to him. Obi-Wan certainly had no desire to be anyone's sexual plaything, but he did find the Jedi Master compelling. There was an intensity about him; it was in his focus, his aura, or whatever. Obi-Wan smiled, imagining ways to get under Qui-Gon's skin. Just because the Adajia was to obey his Sytra's wishes, did not mean he could not indulge his curiosity a little.

Qui-Gon sighed with relief. They were in orbit around Coruscant and the Council had finally accepted his preliminary report regarding the events on Nazanin. Shortly, he received a response from the Council and was quite surprised at how swiftly it arrived considering how unresponsive they had been up until now. He and Obi-Wan were formally requested to appear before them as soon as they arrived. No hint was given as to who may have read his report; the summons was issued through the Council Adjunct's office.

He scooped up his bags and hurried to the shuttle bay to meet Obi-Wan. When he arrived he heard Obi-Wan's voice. The young man sounded displeased, to put it mildly.

"If you won't give me my blaster back, how am I supposed to get it? Write a letter of protest to the Naza Senator?" he asked sarcastically, staring down the shuttle pilot.

"Sir, as long as you remain a guest of the Republic, you are to remain unarmed. Your weapon will be transferred to the Jedi Temple."

Obi-Wan stepped closer, until he was nose to nose with the other man. He spoke in a low and deadly voice, his gaze never wavering from the pilot's eyes. "You don't understand. I don't want my blaster transferred to the Temple. I want it brought to me."

The pilot hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. "I will bring it to you." He disappeared from the shuttle bay.

"You are quite persuasive, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon stated as he came to stand by the young man, who was looking rather smug.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms across his chest and said, "I can hardly be your servant-protector without my weapon, can I?"

The Jedi looked the younger man up and down. Unlike ship's security, Qui-Gon had noticed the knife, as well as Obi-Wan's quick reflexes and quiet step. More than once in the past two days Qui-Gon had been startled to find the young man reading over his shoulder, when he would have sworn Obi-Wan was still sitting on the couch across the room. The man was probably deadly with or without the blaster and he would do well to remember that.

As soon as the shuttle docked at the Temple, the pair headed wordlessly to the Council chambers. A few interested glances were tossed Obi-Wan's way, but no one stopped to ask questions. Qui-Gon's thunderous expression may have quelled their interest.

Qui-Gon was given an immediate audience with the Council, but Obi-Wan was instructed to wait in the antechamber. The Jedi Master composed himself before entering. Yes, he was irritated with the Council, but it would do him no good to appear hostile.

The twelve council members regarded Qui-Gon solemnly. Of course, they do everything solemnly, he thought. They probably had even ignored his communiquis solemnly. He bowed. " Masters," he greeted them with more goodwill then he was feeling. They had put him off repeatedly and yet they required his presence as soon as he had arrived planet side. He wanted answers. Now.

"Patience, Jedi. Soon enough, learn our reasons you will," Yoda admonished.

Qui-Gon refused to be taken to task. Looking his former Master straight in the eye, he asked, "Since when is it in the Council's wisdom to keep vital information from one of its field operatives? Why were the facts about the Adajia tradition purposely kept from me?"

"Long story it is."

"I am prepared to hear it all." Qui-Gon mentally added that he would stand there in the Council circle until he received an explanation he considered valid.

Mace Windu proceeded to explain, "The Senate Admissions Committee and the Supreme Chancellor realized that they made an error in judgment when they admitted the Naza to the Republic. Prior to their bid for inclusion, only entire organized planetary governments had been allowed admission. But there was no rule that stated such, so the Naza were allowed to join without the Anin. Unfortunately, this set a precedent that the Chancellor, in particular, finds distressing. Now many other groups are looking for admission into the Republic. There have been petitions from a variety of religious organizations as well as a number, shall we say, 'entrepreneurial coalitions.' Currently, there is a bill before the Senate to eliminate this kind of confusion, but that still leaves us with the split governments of Nazanin."

"I fail to see what this has to do with why I was kept in the dark about the situation I was headed into," Qui-Gon interjected.

Softly, Depa Billaba continued the explanation, "When the Chancellor saw that the Anin would be defeated, he perceived an opportunity to bring lasting peace to the planet. If a Republic emissary accepted their tradition they would see it as an act of good faith. Also, it is an unspoken rule that while the Adajia is with his Sytra, the Anin will make no move to re-engage their former enemy. The Chancellor and the Admissions Committee views this as a three year window in which to unite the two nations."

Qui-Gon merely raised an eyebrow and directed a look at Yoda that said, "And?"

"Vital it was that the Adajia be accepted by the Republic. Knew we did that you would not want to accept."

"Then why was I chosen?"

Ki-Adi Mundi now joined in, "You were chosen because you were most qualified to handle the conclusion of the conflict as well as the negotiations."

"Also, you are currently without a Padawan or bondmate. Your lack of encumbrances made you a logical choice," added Eeth Koth.

"My lack of encumbrances would be exactly the reason I should not have been chosen." The quizzical looks he received from several of the Jedi Masters caused him to continue. "You have not seen my Adajia, have you? My servant-protector who will provide for me anything I desire?"

Mace shook his head. "No, we have not. Is there a problem?"

"Not at all. Will you ask him in?"

Mace spoke briefly into his comlink and the chamber door slid open to admit Obi-Wan. Adi Gallia flicked a glance at Qui-Gon that told him she finally understood his dilemma and wished it were hers.

The young man strolled straight to the center of the room, his pace unhurried. His gaze focused on Yoda alone, as if he instinctively knew who was the leader of this body of powerful beings.

Yoda regarded the young man thoughtfully. His green eyes squinted and his ears tips rose fractionally, then he gave a satisfied, "Humph," before addressing Obi-Wan.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Master Yoda am I. In service to Qui-Gon Jinn of your own free will are you?"

"Yes, Master, I am."

"Good. All is as it should be," the little Master intoned.

Qui-Gon hid his shock as best he could. All was as it should be? Apparently the Council had gone collectively insane. No, that was not true. They merely had an agenda along with the Senate and he was caught playing his part in it. For three years. His thoughts were interrupted by Mace Windu.

"Master Jinn, you will need to make an appointments for him with the Healers, the weapons Master, and for testing on galactic politics." Mace turned his attention to Obi-Wan. "For the next three years, Kenobi, you will serve as Qui-Gon's assistant on missions. I hope this testing does no offense to the Adajia tradition, but we must ascertain your skill and knowledge level before we send you out into the galaxy as one of our representatives."

Cool, blue-gray eyes regarded the Council member. "No offense taken. It is in all our best interests to see that we are not placed in situations beyond the scope of abilities and understanding."

Qui-Gon looked at the younger man, trying to determine if Obi-Wan had just subtly admonished the Council publicly for having left their representative in the dark. If so, he and Obi-Wan would indeed find some common ground.

Mace nodded giving no indication of perceiving any double meaning in the Anin's words. "Very well, then. If you have no further questions, you are dismissed."

"I have one last concern," Qui-Gon added. "I have single quarters. I request rooms for two, perhaps a Master/Padawan suite?"

A slight out of place chuckle issued from Yoda's throat. "Taken care of already it is. Go now, and may the Force be with you."

Qui-Gon Jinn did not have many belongings, unless one counted the books, and Obi-Wan did count them. There were four hundred and thirty-two. Four hundred and thirty-two extremely heavy books. He had not relished the idea of carrying them all the way to their new quarters several corridors away, but it had to be done.

When Qui-Gon returned to the sitting room, Obi-Wan grinned wickedly, then composed himself. Adopting a musing tone, he asked, "Master, why didn't we skip packing all these? You could have floated them down the hall or something."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Can't you chant some mumbo jumbo and off they go." Obi-Wan punctuated his idea by snapping the fingers on both hands twice.

"The Force is not magic, Obi-Wan. It involves the mastery of the mind, spirit, and body. At this time, I choose to master the body." Hefting two boxes into his arms, he headed into the hallway.

Obi-Wan snatched up the last of the boxes and hurried after the older man. He caught up and looked to Qui-Gon out of the corner of his eye. "Admit it. You have used the Force gratuitously before."

They had arrived at a bank of elevators. Qui-Gon pressed the call button with more force than was necessary. The door slid open promptly and the two men entered.

"The fact that you are giving me the 'strong, silent Jedi' treatment leads me to believe you have." Obi-Wan rocked back and forth on his heels. His voice dropped conspiratorially low, "I bet you were trying to impress someone and you got in trouble."

Qui-Gon flushed, fleeing the elevator as soon as they arrived at their floor and walking swiftly down the hall. He juggled the cartons of books in one arm while entering the security code for the door to their new rooms. The boxes hit the floor with a resounding thud. The Jedi spun around to face Obi-Wan, his face dipping to within inches of Obi-Wan's. "Why are you so interested in this?"

The young man did not even blink in acknowledgement of the intimidation. He knew it was Qui-Gon's ploy to divert attention away from himself. Gently, Obi-Wan set his burden down on the sofa table. "I am interested in everything about my Sytra. Especially what embarrasses him."

Suddenly, Qui-Gon started to laugh. And once he had begun, he could not seem to stop. Soon he was gasping for breath and his sides ached. Finally after a fit of coughing, he sat down, a worried looking Obi-Wan hovering over him.

When the Jedi finally spoke he could not keep the amusement out of his voice. "Yoda always told me that the Force presents each Jedi with many challenges. I have come to realize that you must be one of mine. You do not plan on making the next three years easy on me, do you?"

Obi-Wan dropped on to the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I had not planned on it," he said with a grin. Soberly, he added, "The Adajia/Sytra relationship is whatever the pair make of it. We could try being friends."

"Friends," Qui-Gon repeated, stroking his beard, making a show of mulling the idea over. "Yes, we shall be friends. Although, I assume my new friend will be taking every opportunity to unbalance me."

"I do it with everyone." Obi-Wan shrugged. "I'm equal opportunity that way. Speaking of being off balance, what was the Council's reason for their lack of consideration to you?"

"Essentially, I was told that it was imperative that the Adajia be accepted by the Republic representative in an effort to align Anin with Naza and the rest of the Republic. The Council believed, justifiably, that I would refuse the prize, as any Jedi should. Therefore, they allowed me to remain ignorant of the custom."

"This hardly seems fair to you, but I expected as much. In a way, it's ironic that Nazanin is still divided. We want the same thing."

"Explain."

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan said, smiling at Qui-Gon's military brusqueness. He composed his thoughts, took a deep breath and continued, "Naza and Anin are two halves of the same whole. We want to be one; we need to be one. We just can't seem to find a way to make it happen that is comfortable for both. Consequently, there is a constant need for both peoples to prove their domination. There must be a way to join us together. I hope the Chancellor's idea works, Qui-Gon. Perhaps, you and I can show them how."

Grabbing a pillow from the corner of the couch and tucking it behind his neck, Obi-Wan settled himself even more comfortably. "Now, I want you to tell me your embarrassing Force abuse story."

"I was hoping you would forget."

"Not a chance."

"Very well then," Qui-Gon said on a resigned sigh. "I was thirteen and had my first serious bout of infatuation. Her name was Cazimar. She had beautiful, untamed, curly red hair and freckles. She was an older woman, all of sixteen, and I was very much beneath her notice. We were together one day at the temple lake and I was determined to impress her with my newly learned skill of levitation. So, I levitated over the lake."

"And you fell in!" Obi-Wan crowed.

"Much worse than that. I fell in and I could not swim. Master Yoda had to rescue me."

"I cannot picture Master Yoda jumping in a lake."

"In seven hundred years, Yoda has mastered the art of levitation. He just raised me up out of the water and deposited my soaking wet and choking self on the shore. He poked me in the stomach with that stick of his and told me, 'To impress girls, use force of your personality, not the Force. Works better, less messy, it is.'"

Obi-Wan laughed and shook his head. "So the little guy has a sense of humor. I think I like him. And thank you for the story, Qui-Gon. See, that wasn't so painful. I understand I have some tests tomorrow, so I think I will turn in. Which room in mine?"

"You choose, my Adajia."

"The right," Obi-Wan said decisively.

"Very good. I wanted the one the left anyway. The Adjunct sent all the Adajia information to our computer terminal. I think I will review that and set up those appointments. Have a good rest, Obi-Wan."

As he rose to go, Obi-Wan murmured "Goodnight, my Master,"

Adi Gallia entered the viewing area quietly. Qui-Gon was peering intently through the two-way mirror, watching Obi-Wan spar with the weapons master. They each wielded broad swords and were quite evenly matched, though Master Wencri usually had a noticeable advantage. Master Wencri was an Evaga, one of a race of bipeds with four upper limbs. Currently, he was using a single weapon, but was shifting it amongst his four hands. He was unable to find a weakness in Obi-Wan's form. The young man was prepared for whatever move he attempted, sword flashing through the air and meeting Wencri's with a confident clang.

Impressed, Adi whispered, "Servant-protector indeed. I don't think anyone needs worry about his physical skills. He is probably the best swordsman I have seen who was not Jedi trained."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes, he is remarkable." The man's eyes remained glued on Obi-Wan, who was talking to Wencri during a break. The young man was exultant, smiling happily at the Evaga.

"This is the last test, correct?" Adi asked.

"Yes, he has already visited the healers and taken the exam on galactic politics."

"I presume the healers cleared him, that he has had all his shots."

The left corner of Qui-Gon's mouth curved upwards. "He is not a pet, Adi."

Adi moved to the glass to observe the sparring session more closely. "No, he doesn't seem like a near mindless follower, despite his status as the Adajia. Loyalty you will receive, devotion must be earned."

"And you think I should like to earn his devotion?"

"Admit it, Qui-Gon, if he was not your prize you would pursue him. After all, he is attractive, intelligent, yes, I saw his test scores, and obviously focused, determined, and well trained. What is not to like? And do not tell me he is not your type. I know better, Qui-Gon. You and I have similar tastes in partners."

"Then perhaps you ought to pursue him, for I will not. I will not take advantage of this situation."

"Maybe I will seek him out, Qui-Gon. But do remember this, he is part of your life now, he may not be easy to ignore." With that she departed, leaving Qui-Gon contemplating the closing door.

Ah, Adi, he thought, what a frustrating, irritating, perceptive and delightful woman you are. I would have levitated across the lake for you too, if you had even been born then. He turned his attention back to the window. Master Wencri was holding his glowing purple lightsaber on low power in one hand and a training saber in another, explaining something to Obi-Wan. What was he doing?

Some hours later, Qui-Gon returned to their quarters. He hung up his cloak and looked around the living area. He was startled to realize that Obi-Wan had put all the books up on the shelves. Not only that, but they appeared to be in exactly the same order they had been in his old rooms. The young man certainly had an astounding memory. And he was taking his servant duties quite seriously, for upon closer perusal Qui-Gon noticed that the room was spotless. He hoped the young man did not think he had to clean for him. Perhaps he was just naturally tidy.

Qui-Gon had stayed up until the early morning devouring all the available data on the Adajia. There was not really much beyond what Obi-Wan and the Council had told him already. Obi-Wan was to protect him and answer his commands as long as they did not send either of them into unnecessary danger. He found the historical information fascinating. Most of the Adajia/Sytra pairs had remained close friends and comrades after the allotted three years. Several sets had married or bonded, some even during the three-year contract, including Bacali Mertal and Carolus Davard. No wonder Bacali had spoken so fondly of her Adajia. She had loved him, must still love him. He had been killed defending her during a terrorist attack.

There was no evidence of Obi-Wan's presence by sight or sound. Qui-Gon called out, "Obi-Wan, are you here? May I speak with you?"

A muffled, "Sure," came from the left. When Qui-Gon entered Obi-Wan's room, he was confronted with a mesmerizing sight. Obi-Wan was lying facedown in the center of the bed naked. Well, not naked exactly. One white towel was draped over his head and another was wrapped around his waist.

The towel-draped head lifted from the pillow. "You wanted to talk to me?" The voice from underneath the towel was still distorted.

"Yes, I did Obi-Wan. Could you remove the towel from your head or speak up? I can barely hear you." Qui-Gon cringed at his choice of words, for he became even more aware of the expanse of bare tanned flesh before him. There was a long jagged scar on the young man's thigh that disappeared under the towel. The Jedi wondered how he had acquired it and swiftly following that thought was a desire to know where under the towel the scar ended.

Obi-Wan pulled the towel from his head and Qui-Gon cringed yet again when that handsome face was revealed and those jewel bright eyes peered up at him innocently. Dammit, did Obi-Wan not realize how devastating he was or was this part of plan to keep the master off balance?

"What did you want to talk about?"

Qui-Gon swallowed hard, composed himself as best as he was able, and began. "The Council has approved us for missions, mostly ceremonial functions to begin with, until we become used to working together. We leave on our first in a week."

"I look forward to it, " Obi-Wan said honestly.

"Tell me, why did Master Wencri choose to have you spar with lightsabers? It is quite unusual for a non-Jedi to make use of our chosen weapon."

"He felt that as we would be traveling together, it was important that I understood your weapon and be able to wield it if need be, without slicing off something important of my own."

The Jedi Master chuckled. "I would say that is a valuable lesson to learn. It would seem Master Wencri feels I am in my dotage if he fears I will be unable to manage my own saber."

"I believe he was merely envisioning a worst case scenario. By no means are you in your dotage," Obi-Wan assured him with a smile.

"Ah yes, Master Wencri is typical of the Evaga. They tend to be pessimistic and cautious. Did he also suggest we attend a purification ritual before our first mission?"

"Yes, he did. What did he mean?"

"Purification rituals are done to evoke the divine guidance and benevolence of the Evaga gods. The ritual is wonderful for Evaga, who have no taste buds, but horrible for humans. It involves eating the intestines of a muli-goat." Qui-Gon shuddered at the mere thought of enduring such unpleasantness again. Truly it was the worst thing he had ever eaten, including his first Padawan's cooking.

"That sounds horribly foul. May we skip this ritual?"

"Most definitely, Obi-Wan. I am sure Master Wencri will understand. Besides, you took to the saber extremely well. I seriously doubt you will lose anything valuable, even without the gods' aid. We shall continue your saber lessons if you like."

Obi-Wan beamed. "I would enjoy that very much."

"Good. Shall I see you at dinner tonight?"

"I will meet you in the dining hall in half an hour." Obi-Wan sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The towel around his waist was beginning to become untucked. Before it fully parted, Obi-Wan draped the other towel across his lap. It was a move worthy of the finest fan dancer.

"Until then," Qui-Gon said tightly.

Once out of the room, he remembered their conversation from the night before. Yes, he and Obi-Wan would be friends. Obi-Wan would be the friend who frustrated him into a coronary.

As promised, the first mission of Obi-Wan Kenobi of Anin and Master Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn was a ceremonial function. Their presence was required to witness the installation of the new prime minister of the Che'jon system. The Jedi and his companion had little to do in preparation. Their primary discussion centered on how Obi-Wan should be introduced to the various people they would meet in the course of the next three years. They finally agreed that Obi-Wan would be referred to as Qui-Gon's assistant. They would explain about the Adajia if and when the situation warranted giving further details.

"Are you embarrassed by me or my people's customs?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No, Obi-Wan, I am not. I just do not wish to constantly explain your presence, and its political implications, to everyone we meet, but I assure you it is not my intent to hide anything. Besides, telling no one about the Adajia would negate the Chancellor's and the Council's machinations to abandon you with an old Jedi Master anyway."

Obi-Wan stared at the Jedi. "I have your word that I will not be cast aside and told to amuse myself and order room service while you go off and do good deeds?"

"Do not worry, you will be by my side for every lengthy introduction, each ridiculous toast, and at every long-winded speech made by a minor dignitary who thinks his voice is music to the gods."

"So you are telling me that you love your job?" Obi-Wan teased.

"Make no mistake, Obi-Wan, every mission a Jedi goes on is important in its own way. We will be required to endure endless bouts of tedium and fawning until the Council is convinced you and I can collaborate. For now we are the face of the Republic; later on we may find ourselves involved in situations that require more skill."

Four weeks later, Obi-Wan could barely remember the name of the planet he was visiting. This was the fifth, no sixth, thus far.

Tomorrow was the actual event, the opening of a new multi-species cultural center; tonight was an informal gathering. Obi-Wan wondered what was expected in formal wear if what he observed tonight was considered informal. As it was, he felt woefully underdressed amidst the shimmering attire of their hosts. He had opted to wear the finest clothes he had brought with him, blue pants and shirt, blue cape lined with gold. It was simple and understated. The only other person in the room whom understated could be applied to was Qui-Gon Jinn.

Surrounded by an entourage of what Obi-Wan now referred to as Jedi groupies, Qui-Gon looked far more elegant in his robes than anyone in the room. He deftly turned down all offers for tours of the banquet facilities or the gardens, which, he was repeatedly assured, were quite lovely. Undoubtedly lovely, and shadowed and full of intimate alcoves far from the curious minded.

Stealthily, Obi-Wan slid up behind Qui-Gon and whispered in his right ear, "So, yet again we are attending the Jedi equivalent of a shopping center opening."

Warm breath tickled Qui-Gon's ear and fluttered his hair. He could practically feel the younger man's smirk, and tried to hide his own smile behind the rim of his wine glass. Hopefully, anyone would mistake his flush at having Obi-Wan pressed firmly against his backside as the result of a little too much red wine and not his raging libido.

"Obi-Wan, you should not sneak up on me that way," he chastised half-heartedly.

Obi-Wan moved around to face Qui-Gon. "Oh, why not? Gonna pull out your lightsaber and lay me out?"

The venerated Jedi Master could hardly calculate the number of double entendres in that one sentence. Looking at Obi-Wan's self-satisfied expression, he decided that it would be best to ignore the question altogether. Hastily he changed the subject, hoping to put Obi-Wan on the spot, "I noticed that young count, Garrell, seemed quite interested in you."

Blue-gray eyes sought out Count Garrell on the dance floor. Those eyes narrowed and a slight shiver of disgust quivered through Obi-Wan. "Oh, he is friendly, even quite attractive, but has about as much substance as cotton candy."

Count Garrell did resemble cotton candy, from the top of his slightly teased blond hair to the lavender silk suit he wore. He looked like fluff, and while Qui-Gon would not ordinarily judge a man by his appearance, Obi-Wan had spent a good deal of time with the man and found him lacking. He trusted the younger man's judgment. That took him aback for a moment. He trusted Obi-Wan.

Sometime during the course of the last few weeks he had come to rely on Obi-Wan's shrewd, albeit occasionally sarcastic comments. Obi-Wan was an excellent judge of character. He also had a quick wit and a talent for innocuous, non-threatening conversation that was highly prized at these gatherings. Gazing down at the young man, he thought that indeed, Obi-Wan was his friend, after all. He wished he had met this intriguing man some other way; it was becoming harder to deny his attraction to his Adajia. No matter. He would not act on it. Much. There was one thing he would allow himself.

"Obi-Wan, would you care to join me for a stroll in the gardens? I hear they are quite lovely."

After another month, the pair arrived back on Coruscant. Once in their rooms, Obi-Wan flung his pack into a corner and flopped on the couch with legs stretched out and toes pointed. "I had no idea doing nothing was so tiring. I'd take off my boots, but I have gained a ton and can't reach my feet. I swear, Qui-Gon, if I see one more buffet table, attend one more welcome dinner, I am going to explode. Although I am not sure if it will be my head or my body that goes first."

"I hardly think you gained a ton, Obi-Wan. More like half a kilo. As for exploding humans, I have only seen it happen once...in a holo-thriller. It was not even a very good one."

Obi-Wan reached down and started unlatching his boots. "Laugh now, Master. But it won't be so funny when I run screaming from some reception, jump into a fountain and start singing Corellian drinking songs." One boot hit the floor with a resounding thud.

The Jedi Master had neglected his personal comfort in favor of checking their comm messages. "You will be pleased to hear that our 'meet and greet' missions are temporarily over. I have been assigned duties here at the Temple and Master Wencri has asked if you would like more lightsaber instruction, which I presume you would. At the end of this cycle we will travel to Aktar to oversee the closing of a Phyrillium gas mine."

At Obi-Wan's confused look, Qui-Gon continued, "The gas is highly unstable, even with monitoring equipment there have been numerous explosions when attempts are made to permanently seal the mines. Many years ago a Jedi discovered that there were slight fluctuations in the Force directly before these explosions. Jedi can alert the miners to these fluctuations and consequently prevent a major catastrophe."

The second of Obi-Wan's boots hit the floor and he tossed it and its mate through the open door of his room. "So, real work? Thank the Fates. So far the only help I have really been to you was protecting you from Mayor Sulap's daughter."

Qui-Gon finished reading another message before responding, "And your assistance was invaluable. When she leapt down from that float at me... I admit I was startled." He shook his head in annoyance, then smiled. "The Force gave me no indication that was about to happen. She did apologize later, claiming she had a bad reaction to her cold medicine."

Free of his boots, Obi-Wan wiggled his toes. His head rested against the back of the couch and his eyes were closed. Bliss. Finally. "Ha. She made a move on every single man she came across. I won't even tell you what she did to me."

"Well, I do thank you for disentangling us. My hair got wrapped around the beads on her parade gown. It was a bit embarrassing."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Well, I just hated to see you lose all that Jedi decorum. Not to mention, ruining that hair would be a shame." He clamped his mouth shut, realizing he has perhaps revealed too much. Fortunately, Qui-Gon was again engrossed in the messages and appeared not to have noticed Obi-Wan's confession.

Qui-Gon did not notice because he was stunned by the most recent message. Apparently, Adi was taking him up on his challenge. He cleared his throat. "Obi-Wan, you have received a dinner invitation from Master Adi Gallia."

Jumping up from the couch with obvious enthusiasm, Obi-Wan strolled over to the comm station. He whistled when he read the invitation. "Did you have any plans for me this evening, Master?"

"No, Obi-Wan, I did not."

"Great." He rushed from the room, calling out to Qui-Gon as he did, "Please send a response for me. Tell her I will meet her at her quarters at the requested time."

Qui-Gon sighed. Well, that made things easier. If Obi-Wan were busy with Adi, Qui-Gon would have less opportunity to make a fool of himself in front of the young man.

At that moment, Obi-Wan's head popped out from around the door to his room. "And tell her I'm looking forward to it," he said before he disappeared again.

"I'd say she is too," Qui-Gon muttered.

The following morning, Qui-Gon arranged to meet Mace Windu in one of the training salles for some sparing practice. He and Mace were of a similar skill level and sparred together often to challenge themselves. Due to his Council duties, however, Mace was often late for their sessions.

To ease the time before Mace arrived, Qui-Gon wandered the hallways near their reserved training room, listening to friends' tall tales and a few modest descriptions of amazing feats.

He peeked into the room at the end of the hall, caught a glimpse of the occupant, and tried to back out before he was noticed.

"Qui-Gon!" a voice rang out clearly. There would be no pretending he did not hear it.

Qui-Gon turned to the other Jedi, a man of Qui-Gon's years, but not nearly so well maintained. His burgundy hair was ragged and his eyes were sunken in a pallid face. "Joff, it has been some time since I have seen you. How long has it been?"

Master Joff Drayson draped a towel around his neck, and wiped the sweat from his face with one end. "Months, Qui. Many, many months. So, Qui-Gon, how is that boy of yours?" he asked spitefully.

So, Qui-Gon thought, it was to be that kind of meeting. "Boy?" he asked. "Do you mean my Adajia, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Yes, Kenobi. The one who claims to be a warrior and moves like a streetwalker."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi is exactly what he says he is." Qui-Gon asserted calmly and turned to leave hoping he could end the conversation with the other Master gracefully.

Drayson squinted and his eyes disappeared even more deeply into the shadows. "It must be nice to have an attractive young man who will do your bidding, even nicer that the Council sanctions your activities. Tell me, Qui-Gon, do you keep him busy or might anyone acquire the use of his 'talents?'"

"That is quite enough, Drayson. Do not let your unfortunate experiences allow you to judge this young man unfairly. I will not allow it." Qui-Gon said through clenched teeth.

Suddenly, Drayson was propelled through the air to slam against the back wall of the training salle, his skull hitting the permacrete with a dull crack. He fell to the ground in a heap, but bounded up almost immediately.

"Qui-Gon Jinn!" Drayson bellowed. "How dare you use the Force against me!"

"I did no such thing, Drayson." Qui-Gon thundered back.

Drayson stood toe to toe with Qui-Gon, his face a red mask. "Well, I certainly did not throw myself against that wall."

"There is another answer."

"Then find me one!" Drayson demanded.

Both men turned when they heard a choking noise coming from the doorway. There stood a wild-eyed Obi-Wan Kenobi with his right hand outstretched. He looked from one Master to the other then turned and bolted down the corridor.

Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan down the corridor at a jog. He pulled out his comlink and informed Mace he was canceling their sparring session due to extenuating circumstances. Next he requested the healing center and asked to speak to one of the Master healers. "Healer Kiuv here. How may I aid you, Master Jinn?" a tinny voice asked.

"I need you to pull up the records on my guest, Obi-Wan Kenobi." Qui-Gon had his suspicions, now he would see if they were true.

The Healer sounded confused, "Is there a problem?"

"Not a problem per se. Was a midichlorian count obtained?"

"Why, yes. It's part of the standard blood test."

"And the results?" Qui-Gon asked

A long period of silence followed, too long for the healer to merely be accessing records. Qui-Gon knew then that he was right. "Healer?" he prodded. "It is quite high, correct?"

More silence and finally, "Oh, Master Jinn. I am so sorry that we overlooked this. Apparently no one thought to look. When he visited we were primarily concerned with his general health."

"Do not concern yourself with the oversight, Healer Kiuv. Obi-Wan was born outside of the Republic. Most likely he never had a midichlorian count. This does explain a good many things. I will be in touch, Healer."

"We are here for your aid, Master Jinn. You and Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon switched off the comlink. His long legs carried him quickly through the Temple hallways. He could not help berating himself for not having realized. He should not have missed this. The signs were all there, all pointing to the fact that Obi-Wan was Force sensitive, starting with the photo perfect memory and the incredible talent with weaponry. If Qui-Gon had not been so wrapped up in himself and his own reactions to the young man he would have seen these things for what they were.

Still, the young man had to have incredible natural shielding ability, for Qui-Gon had never once sensed a stray emotion through the Force. He certainly could read Obi-Wan's expressions and body language, though, for he had spent a good deal of time looking at his Adajia.

The Jedi wondered how Obi-Wan had not even realized his own potential. Perhaps he had scared himself with some unexplainable use of the Force during childhood and consequently had blocked out access to those powers. It was all speculation. What was important now was that those powers had been revealed in a rather dramatic manner. And the closer Qui-Gon got to their quarters the more rampant emotions he felt from the young man. Confusion, fear, anger. Obi-Wan could no longer keep all these things in now that the walls had crumbled down inside him.

The door to their quarters slid open on command. Pouring out of the room was a thunderous noise. Once Qui-Gon became accustomed to it he realized it was heavy rock music and could discern the pounding drums from the throbbing bass. It made his head hurt. He quickly used the Force to turn the stereo down. Blessed silence descended.

"Turn it back on."

That had to be Obi-Wan. But where was he? Qui-Gon found him seated on the floor on the far side of the stereo unit. Obi-Wan's knees were drawn up to his chest, his eyes were squeezed shut, and hands covered his ears.

"Please, " the young man begged, "turn it back on. It helps drown them out."

Dropping to his knees in front of Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon lifted the young man's chin with his right hand, gently rubbing his thumb along the smooth jaw. "Drown whom out?" he asked.

Obi-Wan's hands fell to his sides in fists. "Everyone. Everything. I can't escape this...this noise inside my head. I can't concentrate. It hurts and I can't make it stop." Never before in his life had Obi-Wan felt so unable to cope. He felt like he was being battered from the inside. He was so tired, so worn down.

Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan by the upper arms and pulled him to his feet. "Pay attention to me, Obi-Wan." The young man focused blearily on the Jedi. When Qui-Gon had as much of Obi-Wan's attention as the young man could spare, he continued, "You are Force sensitive and have been shielding for years. This afternoon you broke down those shields when you threw Master Drayson against the wall. We need to rebuild them."

"I can't do this." Obi-Wan was as close to sobbing as he had been since his childhood.

Deep blue eyes bored into pained blue-gray causing Obi-Wan to flinch and attempt to pull away. Qui-Gon's grip tightened on Obi-Wan's arms, nearly cutting off circulation.

"You can do this and you will do this, Obi-Wan. You have met every challenge that has been presented to you. You can do this. I demand that you do." Qui-Gon's voice sounded harsher than it ever had.

Startled out of his misery, Obi-Wan's mouth dropped open. His vow of the Adajia. He had vowed to do what this man wanted. He must obey. "Forgive me, my master. As you please, I await your instruction."

Qui-Gon nodded in approval. "Good. Close your eyes. Concentrate on my voice and relax. I know it hurts now, but trust me it will fade. Very soon all that inner noise will be gone."

Indeed, Obi-Wan soon discovered that the pain had receded. All he felt was calm and a very faint pressure that demanded nothing, merely kept watch.

"Is that you?" the young man asked.

"Yes, Obi-Wan, until I can teach you the technique I am shielding your mind. I am sorry this is the only way."

"It's alright. It's rather soothing," Obi-Wan admitted hesitantly.

Qui-Gon smiled. "Very well then. Let us begin."

For the better part of an hour the pair worked to rebuild Obi-Wan's defenses. He had to learn to do what he had been unconsciously doing for years. When at last he had his mental barriers in place, he let out a huge sigh.

Finally able to collect his thoughts, Obi-Wan was preparing a barrage of questions, when Qui-Gon suggested, "Let us go for a walk and test those shields. I will explain everything that I am able."

"Lead on, my Sytra." Obi-Wan bowed and gestured that Qui-Gon precede him out the door.

They strolled companionably through the bright halls for a time before Qui-Gon spoke, "I should have realized you were Force sensitive Obi-Wan. Today's pain could have been avoided. So many of the signs were there. I know you are an extraordinary young man, I simply did not realize how extraordinary."

Obi-Wan was delighted by Qui-Gon's praise. "I am glad you are pleased with me, Master." His expression became suddenly far more serious. "I really need to know what happened today."

"I would venture that you heard what Master Drayson was saying?" Qui-Gon asked.

Irritation clouded Obi-Wan's face. "Yes, I heard and I was offended, for myself, but mostly for you. Still, how does that explain things?"

"The Force responds to the will of the user, but when the user is untrained, in your case, or out of control, it responds to strong emotions. Drayson's remarks led to an emotional break in you and the Force responded. It is not at all uncommon for this to happen in Force users who discover their talents as adults," the Jedi explained.

Obi-Wan stopped walking. They were standing in front of a window with a view of the Senate complex. The vast structures were overwhelming, just as the events of the day been. Despite the day's personal turmoil, Obi-Wan's next question concerned someone else. "Why did Master Drayson say those nasty things about us?" The young man was worried about the other Master as well as curious.

"Joff Drayson is a man who has been hurt badly by a young Knight, whom you resemble a good deal. Drayson is the head of the committee that appoints Knights to long-term assignments. Knight Krale had a particular post in mind for himself and he shamelessly seduced Joff to earn his favor."

Certainly such behavior was beyond a Jedi Knight, thought Obi-Wan. They were much more self-sacrificing and benevolent than that. To use someone like that...it was so clearly wrong.

Sensing the train of the young man's thought Qui-Gon said, "Even Jedi have flaws. Krale is scheming and power hungry. Seducing Joff was wrong, but even worse than that Joff fell in love with Krale, thought Krale loved him. Joff confronted the Knight and Krale scorned him, told Joff he had gotten fair payment and that there was nothing between them and never would be."

"I can see why Master Drayson would be wary of me, but why was he insinuating that you were using me? It's contradictory."

Qui-Gon nodded approvingly. "You are a very wise man, Obi-Wan. It is contradictory, but emotions are not logical. Part of Joff knows he was used, another part believes he took pleasure from Krale in payment for that assignment. He has been unable to see that his only fault was to be too trusting. In a way, he seeks some method to leave Krale innocent."

"He'd rather blame himself and suffer than see the truth?" Obi-Wan asked in disbelief.

"Sadly, yes. He dislikes our situation because it reminds him of himself and Krale. And he is angry with the Council for approving the Adajia relationship."

"Why? You scrupulously avoid any impropriety, even where there would be none."

"Obi-Wan, you are not my slave. I will not treat you as such," Qui-Gon said levelly. Force help me, let him drop this subject, he begged to the unseen power.

The young man leaned back against the railing before the window. "I am not oblivious to your desires. I know how you look at me sometimes, how you turn away hoping I did not notice. Why don't you do anything about that?"

So much, for keeping his longing a secret, thought Qui-Gon. "I will not abuse my position in this relationship."

"You simply do not understand that it is not abuse to me. I am your servant; it is my honor and my duty to see to your needs. You truly do not fathom the depths of my commitment. Beyond that, I find you quite attractive, Qui-Gon. Making love with you would be a pleasure, not a chore."

"This is not up for discussion, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said with finality. "And now that we have discovered your Force abilities, it is my duty to help you understand them."

Obi-Wan grinned. "Ah, I see. Subject dropped. Very well, then. What are the Jedi going to do about me now?"

"I truly do not know. We shall see."

Qui-Gon was not at all surprised that he was summoned to Yoda's quarters some hours later for tea. Of course, Qui-Gon had filed a report with the Council regarding the incident between himself, Obi-Wan, and Joff Drayson, but he truly did not expect his former Master to leave it at that. Yoda had been sticking his pointy ears into Qui-Gon's business since he was a Padawan, before that actually, and the little troll saw no reason to give it up now.

The door slid open just as Qui-Gon was about to hit the call button. "Come in, come in," Yoda beckoned. "Late you are. Cold the tea is."

Settling in the one chair large enough for him with his mug of green tea, Qui-Gon waited for the inquisition to begin. He did not have to wait long.

"Tell me, what think you of Kenobi?"

Qui-Gon groaned inwardly. He despised Yoda's open-ended questions. One never knew quite what the old Master wanted to know and consequently said much more than was wise. "He is a very bright and tenacious young man."

"Honorable?"

"Extremely. He takes his duties seriously." Qui-Gon offered.

Yoda spent the next several moments staring into his tea, swirling it absently. "Time it is to tell you something only the Council knows."

"Are you telling me there is more information about the Adajia I do not know?" Qui-Gon asked incredulously. Wonderful, simply wonderful. He knew he had been a thorn in the Council's side for some time, but the level of their mistrust was astounding.

"About the Adajia, no. About Obi-Wan, yes," Yoda clarified. "And take that tone with me you will not, still your Master am I."

Qui-Gon lowered his eyes and bowed his head respectfully. "Forgive me, Master. I am anxious to hear what you have to say."

"Better that is. Always jumping to conclusions as a child you were. Thought you had outgrown it."

A smile bloomed slowly on Qui-Gon's face at his Master's teasing. Yoda never could stay irritated at him for long.

"Had a vision I did, a vision with two outcomes. There was a gifted young man from beyond the Republic come to live among us. In first vision, tainted he became at the hands of a dark figure, chaos followed. In second vision, same young man I saw with you. Called you Master he did. No darkness, only light."

"And that young man was Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon said with certainty. Things were beginning to make sense to Qui-Gon; the Council sending him to Nazanin, the lack of information he had been provided, even Obi-Wan's Force abilities. It was not just that the Republic or the Jedi who must accept Obi-Wan as the Adajia, it was Qui-Gon himself who had to.

Yoda nodded. "Knew as soon as I saw him, I did, right we were to send you."

"What of the dark figure? Any idea whom it might have been?"

"Hard to see it was. Shrouded in mystery he is. Know this I do: when Naza called for a negotiator, Senator Palpatine from Naboo lobbied hard to be sent. Like him I do not. Slimy he is. Watched he will be."

"And what of Obi-Wan? How will all of this affect him?"

"Trained he must be to understand the light. The darkness desires his talents. Too powerful he is to be left without Jedi influence."

That was startling news to Qui-Gon. A Council member was encouraging the training of one who was not their own. Jedi trained from an early age and guarded their secrets carefully. "This is most unusual, Master."

"Unusual it is, but trained he must be." Involuntarily, Yoda's eyes drifted closed and he inhaled deeply as if testing the air. Images battered against his closed lids. Distorted and moving quickly, they flashed in and out of his mind's eye. Only one thing was clear. "Do his duty Obi-Wan will. Save you he can with the Force as his guide. All I can determine, this is."

This astonished Qui-Gon even more than learning of the Adajia back on Nazanin months ago. Back then he thought he had a slave, now he had a destiny.

Fortunately, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had several weeks uninterrupted stay at the Jedi Temple before their presence was required at the mines on Aktar. Obi-Wan received intensive instruction in the ways of the Light during that time. He understood the importance of not allowing dark influences on his spirit. Master Yoda was adamant that he be prepared. He and Master Depa Billaba taught him the rudiments of the mystical aspects of the Force. Adi Gallia, Qui-Gon, and Master Wencri continued his physical training, while various other Masters occasionally added their insights to Obi-Wan's immersion into the ways of the Force.

Each evening after a day full of testing his physical and mental limits, Obi-Wan returned to the rooms he shared with Qui-Gon and collapsed. He found it relaxing to discuss the events of the day with the Jedi Master. Qui-Gon had an interesting philosophy, which varied a good deal from the other Masters. The two would spend hours debating topics that had been brought up during the day. Obi-Wan always considered Qui-Gon's views carefully, but often discarded them in favor of his own convictions.

Qui-Gon was proud of his new friend's progress. When Obi-Wan contacted his family back on Nazanin, Qui-Gon quietly and respectfully reported on the changes in Obi-Wan's life and his extreme pleasure at being able to share the gift of the Force with his Adajia. A number of previously unexplained events in Obi-Wan's youth suddenly made sense to the Kenobis. They were delighted to find out about Obi-Wan's potential and that his services as Adajia were even more valuable. They wished Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon well on their future missions.

The view of the Phyrillium mine from the control booth was fairly typical. Below him men in orange biohazard suits scurried about preparing the mine for its final closing. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan stood across the room conversing with the chief engineer, Timat, who by coincidence had attended the same rather exclusive university that he had.

Timat broke away from Obi-Wan to oversee the final preparations. Obi-Wan came to stand by Qui-Gon, gazing through the glass at the men in the biosuits. The smile he had been sporting turned into a slight frown as he continued to survey the field. Something felt wrong.

At last, Timat announced that it was time to close the mine. One by one the large vents attached to the collection tanks would be sealed. When this was complete, a few smaller vents would remain open. These vents were only large enough to allow small amounts of the remaining gas to escape into the atmosphere. This could be processed and rendered harmless by the unique vegetation planted nearby. Periodic checks on the abandoned mine would assure that the gas levels were safe. Eventually, all the remaining gas trapped beneath the surface would leach out.

As each vent was closed, Obi-Wan's frown deepened. The last large vent was closing when he turned to Qui-Gon. "Stop this," he pleaded. "Feel it. Trust me." Shoving various technicians out of his way, he burst through the door and took a flight of metal steps in two strides before sprinting across the field.

Feel it. Trust me. These words repeated in Qui-Gon's mind as he commanded Timat to halt the procedure and sped off after Obi-Wan. Trust. He trusted Obi-Wan; there was an explanation for his behavior. Reaching out to touch the Unifying Force, he felt what Obi-Wan must have. There was definitely something wrong. Not the least of which was the fact that Obi-Wan had grabbed one of the biohazard techs from behind and had the point of his knife pressed under the trembling man's chin.

"Where is the other gas duct? Tell me!" Obi-Wan commanded as he twisted the knife a quarter turn. A drop of bright red blood trickled slowly down the cold steel blade. The technician sputtered, but said not a single decipherable word.

"Obi-Wan! What are you doing?"

Through clenched teeth, Obi-Wan said, "There is another tunnel that has been mined secretly." He pushed the point of the knife into the tech's flesh a bit, "And he knows where it is."

Calmly, Qui-Gon reached out his hand. "Release him, Obi-Wan. He will tell us what we need to know."

Obi-Wan released the tech with some reluctance. The man drew in a shaky breath then sprinted for a nearby stand of trees.

Qui-Gon looked at his companion and shrugged. "He is not particularly bright, I'd say." The Jedi drew his right hand into a fist. The fleeing technician halted suddenly, shoulders heaving with exertion, trying to escape the unseen bonds that held him.

By this time, Timat had appeared on the field. "What is going on here?"

With a nod toward Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon explained, "My companion seems to believe there is another tunnel that has been mined in secret and will compromise the entire shut-down operation. This fellow should be able to tell us where it is."

Following hours of questioning, the ridiculously stubborn technician ultimately revealed the location of the hidden tunnel. The tech and his accomplices had been bleeding off gas for nearly a year, selling it to unscrupulous buyers who did not care if the product was obtained legally. If their secret duct had remained open whilst the others were closed or vented, the entire complex could have become unstable. The mine, the surrounding fields, and most likely the nearby town would have been destroyed.

Rubbing his forehead, Timat entered the viewing room to apprise Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan of the situation. "Thank you, Sir Jedi and you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Without your intervention a great many lives may have been lost. Please accept our hospitality over the next few days while we redo our plans for the mine closing."

"It would be our pleasure to remain for the duration." Qui-Gon answered.

Soon after Timat had left, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon retired to the quarters they had been provided. The time was right for a discussion of the day's events. Qui-Gon broached the subject gently. "Obi-Wan, I am very proud of your abilities and I believe in general you handled the situation well."

"But?" Obi-Wan prodded.

"But..." Qui-Gon paused, "You need to show a little more restraint, especially in your interrogation technique." He smiled to soften the words. "All in all, your first mission with full knowledge of your gifts was quite successful."

He reached out and stroked Obi-Wan's cheek, drawing the young man's eyes to his. "I am honored to have an Adajia such as you," he murmured just before their lips met in a simple kiss of happiness. He smiled once more, warmly, then turned and headed to his room.

Obi-Wan stared after him, lips tingling, wishing Qui-Gon, his Sytra, had not chosen to end the kiss. More kisses would certainly have been welcomed and returned. Now, perhaps, was not the time. Soon, though. Very soon.

Three weeks later, Obi-Wan sat quietly reading in his room on Coruscant, when the comm panel chirped for attention. He hurried into the living area to answer. The message was from Yoda and the little Master did not look happy.

"Obi-Wan. Speak with Qui-Gon I must."

"He is asleep. If it is urgent I could wake him. He didn't have much time for sleep on the mission to Danurian." Actually, almost none. The rebel leaders continually walked out of the peace talks, returning scant hours later, only to repeat the process again. The negotiating team dare not leave the conference area lest the rebels return to the talks. Qui-Gon had only snatched a few minutes sleep here and there. Obi-Wan's presence was less crucial and he had allowed himself more rest, but had spent a good deal of time keeping his Sytra company and making sure he ate at semi-regular intervals.

"Important this is. Know now he should," Yoda explained.

"One moment. I will wake him."

After waking Qui-Gon and informing him he had an urgent comm call, Obi-Wan discreetly returned to his room. He had nearly fallen asleep when he suddenly felt cold. Pain, sharp and icy, filtered into his room, oozing around the doorframe, and filling him with dread. He raced into the common room, where the chill was even more palpable, to find Qui-Gon sitting on the edge of the couch, head buried in his hands.

Obi-Wan knelt down on the floor beside the couch and placed a hand on Qui-Gon's knee. "What's wrong?" he asked. The touch was gentle; the voice was not.

Although Qui-Gon answered, Obi-Wan was certain the Jedi did not know to whom he was speaking. The words issued from the Jedi in a monotone. "The Danurian rebels did not uphold their end of the peace accord. Our Republic team was barely into hyperspace when they poisoned the capital city's water supply at the source. More than half the population of the city and the surrounding area is dead. "

The monotone changed to include a note of weary cynicism. "The rebels gleefully acknowledge their responsibility. They came to the table speaking of peace, and all the while they had been planning this atrocity."

"Qui-Gon, you couldn't have known. No one could have," Obi-Wan tried to reason.

"All those people dead, and they are off celebrating their glorious victory." Qui-Gon stood suddenly to pace the room.

Obi-Wan followed. "You couldn't have stopped them, Qui-Gon. Listen to me, dammit! Qui-Gon!" He was yelling now and still he was ignored. Qui-Gon continued his tirade, arms folded across his chest, squeezing his upper arms in a punishing grip, struggling for control and losing.

The temperature in the room was even colder now. Obi-Wan felt pricks against his flesh like thousands of tiny sharp needles injecting steely numbness.

The cold crackled into tiny bits, sneaking up under fingernails and into pores. Seeking weakness, invading. No, not just cold. Obi-Wan concentrated, drawing upon the Force to clear his vision, to reveal to him what he could not see. And there it was, hiding behind the cold, the dark. Like a living thing and as such it had desires. Ruthless, evil desires. It wanted Qui-Gon, to destroy him and make him over as it would, as its weapon.

The dark moved quickly, digging in with frozen claws. There was no way Obi-Wan could summon help fast enough. He had to stop this. The dark might want Qui-Gon, but Qui-Gon wanted him. Obi-Wan knew that. He needed to get Qui-Gon to focus on him.

He planted himself firmly in Qui-Gon's path not allowing him to pass. Wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, Obi-Wan tilted the man's head down. "Qui-Gon, look at me. Focus on me," he purred seductively.

"Obi-Wan?" the Jedi's eyes seemed to clear a bit.

"Yes, Qui-Gon, it's me. I am here."

"I...I..." Qui-Gon fumbled for words, confusion and pain furrowing his brow.

Slipping a knee between the older man's legs, Obi-Wan pushed Qui-Gon against the wall roughly. Hands on shoulders, holding Qui-Gon in place, he leaned up and captured Qui-Gon's lips with his own. He poured out all the hunger for Qui-Gon that had been gnawing at him for the last few months. A hunger he had tried to hide because Qui-Gon seemed so unwilling to act on his own desires.

In truth, Qui-Gon had fascinated Obi-Wan from the moment he had seen him. Fascinated and very so slightly intimidated. Then he had come to realize that Qui-Gon was more than a little wary of him. For Obi-Wan, fascination had turned to curiosity, then friendship. The more Obi-Wan learned about Qui-Gon, the more time he spent with him, the more he grew to desire him.

And now that desire that had sparked between them but been haphazardly ignored would build the flame that would burn away the cold creeping darkness. For as soon as their lips met, Qui-Gon came back to himself and greedily returned the kiss. His palms slid around to Obi-Wan's back, urging him closer.

When Qui-Gon's tongue licked along his lips, Obi-Wan allowed it entrance into his mouth, tickling it with quick flicks from his own tongue.

"Yes, Qui-Gon. Oh, yes," Obi-Wan murmured between ravaging kisses.

Qui-Gon moaned and pushed himself away from the wall. Walking Obi-Wan backward, he never broke contact with that hot, heavenly mouth, miraculously missing all the furniture as they drifted toward the bedroom.

Together they fell onto the bed, Qui-Gon's body covering Obi-Wan. The young man whimpered softly, straining to get closer, to get deeper into Qui-Gon. To finally take what he had been longing for, to give what he had been longing to give. The time had finally arrived.

Obi-Wan braced himself with his feet and rolled them over. He straddled the other man's hips pressing his knees against them. He swooped in for more deep kisses, thoroughly tasting Qui-Gon's mouth, loving the taste he had too briefly sampled before. When they finally parted to catch their breath, Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's neck, brushing the skin lightly with his tongue then smoothing over it with his lower lip. He burrowed his left hand in Qui-Gon's tunics, nudging them aside. His progress was halted by the Jedi's belt. It was nimbly unhooked and carelessly thrown aside. Obi-Wan scooted down Qui-Gon's body intent on the expanse of flesh revealed by the parted tunics.

Starting at the shoulders, Obi-Wan caressed every inch of Qui-Gon's torso with his hands. Shoulders were cupped and firmly massaged, sides were tickled by the pads of callused fingers, a thumb dipped into the navel for a brief tease, already-budding nipples were grazed by a fingernail. Qui-Gon thrashed his head on the pillow, eyes closed, completely unaware that Obi-Wan avidly watched the soundless reflections of pleasure on his face. Obi-Wan wondered what the man would do if he...

Qui-Gon let out a gasp when he felt a lick against one nipple and a light pinch to the other. The man was practically panting by the time Obi-Wan transferred his attentions, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Qui-Gon's sternum and lower across the hard muscle of the quivering abdomen.

Lower still Obi-Wan ventured. Confronted with the drawstring to Qui-Gon's trousers, he stopped for a moment then very determinedly began to undo the knot with his teeth and tongue. Qui-Gon's eyes flew open struggling to lock with Obi-Wan's.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon rasped as he writhed against the sheets, "this is not necessary."

The young man looked up, resting his chin on Qui-Gon's hipbone. Mischief brewed in his eyes. "I don't want to stop. Do you want me to?" he asked throatily as his palm moved to rub Qui-Gon's burgeoning hardness through the rough cloth of the Jedi's trousers.

"Oh, no. Oh, please," Qui-Gon moaned as he lifted his hips allowing Obi-Wan to tug his trousers down to his knees.

Strong hands stroked relentlessly up and down Qui-Gon's thighs. He felt warm breath at his groin and then a quick lick to the tip of his cock. He shuddered, uncontrollably aroused.

"You like that? How about this?" Obi-Wan gently took Qui-Gon's cock in hand then licked around the head, following that with the barest scrape of teeth. His ministrations were welcomed with a groan of supreme approval. Tingling kisses were dropped from tip to base before Obi-Wan's tongue painted a path along the underside. Qui-Gon's hands tugged at Obi-Wan's hair, seeking purchase, nails scraping lightly against the younger man's scalp.

Obi-Wan grinned. "I do not think I will tease you anymore, I don't want that kind of reputation anyway." His head bobbed down so he could take Qui-Gon's cock fully into his mouth. Ever so slowly he slid back up. He repeated this move several times. The quick, slow pattern drove Qui-Gon to madness.

"This is not teasing?" Qui-Gon managed to pant out as he thrust his hips forward trying to make Obi-Wan take him at a steady pace.

Obi-Wan chuckled deep in his throat and finally increased the tempo. Qui-Gon burned everywhere, but the heat was most intense wherever his body met Obi-Wan's. He wanted more, to feel Obi-Wan against every centimeter of his body. Maybe then the cold and dark would never touch him again; he would always have Obi-Wan's heat to keep it at bay.

The delicious sensations Obi-Wan was creating were rapidly overpowering Qui-Gon, and even though he wanted these feelings to continue, he came with Obi-Wan's name whispered on his lips reverently. Obi-Wan continued to lick Qui-Gon's spent cock, savoring the flavor of the man's desire.

Finally satisfied, Obi-Wan kissed his way back up Qui-Gon's chest while straightening the Jedi's trousers. Lips met and tongues tangled and a heady rush of sated pleasure filled both men.

"That was..." Qui-Gon struggled with an uncharacteristic loss for words.

"Diverting?"

"One might say that. You did not learn how to do that at some exclusive university."

"That was self-directed study," Obi-Wan answered with a cheeky smile and a soft stroke along Qui-Gon's bearded cheek. "Sleep now, Qui-Gon. Everything is going to be perfectly fine. I promise."

Understandably tired from the struggle with the dark and the powerful pleasure he had received, Qui-Gon did indeed fall asleep with Obi-Wan pulled close, the young man's head resting against his chest and his breath continuing to warm him.

It was very early morning when Qui-Gon awoke. He found Obi-Wan still curled up next to him asleep. No, not next to him, but half-covering him with his body. Protecting him from the demons in the night. That was his Adajia's duty, to protect him and care for him. Obi-Wan had kissed him to turn his attention away from the enveloping dark and Qui-Gon had responded to that kiss. Had wanted so much more than kisses from the young man. And Obi-Wan had allowed it. Had pleasured him because he was sworn to provide anything he could for his Sytra.

There was a daydream Qui-Gon had taken to indulging in when he had a spare moment. In his fantasy, Obi-Wan was his lover because he chose to be, comforted him because he cared, whispered sweet words that he meant deep in his heart. In his mind, Qui-Gon pictured himself returning home wearied and soul lost. He would enter the bedchamber to find Obi-Wan dozing, covered by a thin sheet. "Obi-Wan," he would whisper. The young man would awake instantly, delightfully tousled and drowsy but completely aware that it was his lover who spoke. "Qui-Gon, " he would say as he sat up, the sheet falling away.

"I need you," would pour rawly from Qui-Gon's lips. In response, Obi-Wan would merely hold out his arms and draw Qui-Gon into their loving embrace. They would fall back onto the bed, sharing sweet, drugging kisses. The young man would wrap his strong legs around Qui-Gon, thrusting up into him, shamelessly transmitting his own desire. Soft lips would brush kisses against his neck. Obi-Wan would tell Qui-Gon without words that he was always welcome in his arms.

Now a bleaker view entered Qui-Gon's mind. The same scenario, but rather than being welcomed by a loving Obi-Wan, the young man allowed Qui-Gon into his bed out of duty, marking his time until Qui-Gon had sated himself in his body. Looking at him with mild contempt rather than tenderness.

Examining Obi-Wan's peaceful, sweetly boyish face, Qui-Gon could not bear that idea. He had to be stronger. His resolve to not ravish the young man had to be firmer. But then Obi-Wan opened his eyes and those bright blue-grays lit with an inner beauty even greater than his outer beauty and Qui-Gon was temporarily lost. Sweet, short, soft morning kisses were rained over Qui-Gon's face and neck. Last night's fiery heat had given way to warm sensuality. For just a moment more, thought Qui-Gon, I will allow myself this joy. Then I will have to put him away from me. Oh, just one moment more.

Qui-Gon gently pushed Obi-Wan away. Clearing his throat, he said, "I must thank you for your efforts at preventing the darkness from overwhelming me. They are much appreciated."

Obi-Wan pulled even further back sputtering, "You are thanking me?"

"Why, yes. You distracted me from the dark pull quite effectively. And I must say it was very pleasurable as well. Thank you."

The young man scrambled out of the bed and strode to the door, as he reached it he turned his head to look at the disheveled Jedi Master on the bed. His eyes were steely flints. "I would say 'anytime,' but I don't think you want to hear that. I bid you good day, Qui-Gon." He left the room with shoulders straight and head high.

Qui-Gon dropped his head to the pillow; this situation was a mess. If only this had not happened, he would have approached Obi-Wan at the end of the three years with the suggestion that they continue their relationship on a more intimate level. That chance seemed lost to him now. He had handled this badly, but he could not accept what Obi-Wan gave to him out of duty. Obi-Wan had been aroused, but he was a young man. Young men were often very casual about with whom they shared intimacies. There was nothing casual about the growing feelings Qui-Gon had for Obi-Wan.

Still, he had been rather harsh with him. He would apologize when Obi-Wan returned. If he returned.

The smell of fried electronics permeated the air of training room eighteen. Adi entered cautiously and searched through the haze of smoke. Seven or eight saber training remotes, all cleaved into perfect halves, littered the floor. A ninth was in danger of the same fate as Obi-Wan Kenobi moved in on it.From the evident destruction, it was obvious that the saber Obi-Wan wielded was on full power. Probably borrowed from Master Wencri, Adi thought. Knowing Obi-Wan's impulsive nature, she doubted the scoundrel had actually asked permission to use it.

Obi-Wan moved with explosive ferocity across the room. Sweat glistened off his bare arms and shoulders. He parried bolts from the remote easily. After two more slashes from his saber, the remote fell to the floor in quarters, sparks erupting from the pieces. The young man stared at them blankly, then thumbed the power switch on his weapon.

"Good job. But don't you think you used excessive force?" Adi asked innocently as she strode forward.

The young man spun around, tension evident in the tight lines of his body. He relaxed noticeably when he realized it was Adi Gallia who stood before him.

"It was either them or Master Jinn, and for some reason, there are people around here who are fond of the man. Unless you'd like me to chop him up into little pieces?"

"Get up on the wrong side of bed, Kenobi?" she asked.

"More like kicked out," he muttered.

"Pardon?"

Obi-Wan was unwilling to repeat himself. Besides, he had brooded enough. It was time, as one Jedi Master so often said, to live in the moment.

Decision made, he tossed the lightsaber onto a padded bench across the room and determinedly stalked Adi. Surprised, she backed away until her shoulders hit the wall behind her and Obi-Wan was plastered against her front. His forearms were flattened against the wall on either side of her head, trapping her.

"I was just thinking what a better mood I would have been in if I had woken up in your bed," he whispered hotly into her ear before kissing her neck.

As enticing as the sensations were, Adi did not want to be a convenient outlet for the young man's desire. She knew he and Qui-Gon were emotionally involved. Just because the two of them could not figure out what was going on did not mean she would allow herself to get caught in the middle.

Summoning her will and a small amount of the Force, she shoved Obi-Wan away. He landed on the practice mat with the wind knocked out of him. Adi pounced on him, straddling his hips and holding his hands above his head. After this, he probably would never forget she was a Jedi Master as well as a woman. "You're quite a handful, aren't you?" she asked with a laugh.

"More than a handful," he responded silkily and then thrust his hips up in a prolonged grind against her pelvis.

"Obi-Wan! You are such a bad boy today. And as tempting as the quite obvious offer is, I don't make a habit of taking what belongs to someone else."

Obi-Wan stilled. "I am not anyone's possession," he ground out.

Adi released his hands and sat back studying the young man. "No, you aren't. You would be much too hard to tame and you get into too much trouble. Don't pout. It's true. What happened between you and Qui-Gon is your business, but if he is still in danger of being chopped in half like those remotes, you can stay with me for a day." She reached down and covered his mouth with her hand before he could respond. "Ah, ah, ah. No funny business. I mean in the guest room."

Trying to hide a smile behind his pout, Obi-Wan said, "Well, I guess I can't expect to have everything. I accept your terms and since there isn't going to be any playtime, will you please get off me?"

She got up gracefully and offered Obi-Wan a hand up, which he accepted and continued to hold even as he leaned down to pick up the discarded lightsaber. Looking over her shoulder at the still smoldering remotes, Adi teased, "You know they may want you to pay for those."

"Let them take it out of my salary."

Hand in hand they left the training room, talking and laughing as they headed to Adi's quarters, unaware that they were being watched.

Qui-Gon spent the afternoon in the Temple library. There was a wealth of information there, but unfortunately it was not thoroughly cross-referenced. At one time, someone suggested that perhaps such a project would constitute a Knight's trials. Yoda's response was, "Want our Padawans to pass their trials before they are as old as I am we do."

Before beginning his search in the library, Qui-Gon had gone to see Yoda about the dark side energy that had attacked him the previous night. He mentioned that Obi-Wan had managed to distract him away from its pull, but had left out the details of the intervention. Just as Qui-Gon had expected, Yoda had not felt a disturbance yesterday. If he had, his former Master would have rushed to his aid. Nor could Yoda recall an incident similar to this, where the dark side had a physical manifestation.

Of course, Yoda wanted to hear Obi-Wan's description of the events and the darkness he had felt. All Qui-Gon could say was that the young man was out. Yoda's ears drooped precipitously, but he did not question Qui-Gon further, merely asking him to please send Obi-Wan to speak with him soon.

Qui-Gon immersed himself in data readers and manuscripts, but could not find the information he sought. To clear his head, he drifted over to the fiction section. There were many who thought that Jedi did not partake of such frivolous pursuits, but most did read for simple pleasure. Qui-Gon was rather fond of novels with a heavy dose of political intrigue. While searching for one, he came across the kind of adrenaline packed thriller that Obi-Wan favored. He slipped the disk into a reader.

The novel had an intriguing premise and ordinarily Qui-Gon would have been engrossed. Today, though, he could not take his mind off of Obi-Wan. He certainly did not blame the young man for disappearing. He had treated him poorly. Obi-Wan had saved his spirit, his sanity even, and then brought him intense pleasure and Qui-Gon had treated him like a cheap whore. All because Qui-Gon felt such guilt about engaging in any activity even remotely sexual with him as long as they were bound together as Adajia and Sytra. The problem was that Obi-Wan did not seem to have any objections. Therefore, any guilt was Qui-Gon's own to get over, if he was able.

Lost in thought, Qui-Gon did not hear the other Jedi approach, but he did recognize the voice of the speaker and the disdain in it. It was Joff Drayson.

"Taking up reading again now that your noble young man had moved on?" Drayson sneered.

"Good afternoon, Joff. Would you mind telling me what you mean by that?" Qui-Gon inquired affably. The other Master tried Qui-Gon's patience with his paranoia and his near constant need to make everyone as miserable as he was. Drayson refused counseling and the healers could not insist until the man erred on a mission.

Drayson sat down at Qui-Gon's table and leaned forward. "You have been replaced, my friend."

Qui-Gon did not appreciate the "my friend" comment. He knew Drayson was not speaking to him out of concern or friendship. The man wanted to gloat. Qui-Gon was not going to let the other man goad him into anger. He would remain relaxed and calm. "Replaced? How?"

"I just saw your Obi-Wan leaving the training rooms with Adi Gallia. They were all over one another. Looks like he has set his sights on a Council member now." Drayson sat back, looking smugly satisfied having delivered his devastating news.

Much to Drayson's chagrin, Qui-Gon merely smiled. "Is that all? Well, I have three things to say to that. First, Obi-Wan is not 'mine' as you so crudely believe. He is free to associate with whomever he chooses. Second, he has been friendly with Adi since he arrived here at the Temple. And lastly, Obi-Wan really is not any of your concern. Good day to you, Joff." Qui-Gon then returned to his reading.

Deflated, Joff Drayson got up from the table. Once the other man rounded the row of shelving, Qui-Gon lifted his gaze from his data reader and stared out the window. A myriad of flying vehicles crisscrossed in dozens of flight lanes and he concentrated on them as he tried to organize his thoughts. He was not truly upset with Drayson; the man had a reason for his behavior, although that did not excuse his rudeness.

Qui-Gon was worried that this type of situation could happen over and over again. Some well-meaning, or not so well-meaning, soul letting him know that Obi-Wan was seen here or there with someone else. The young man was not even his lover. And what if he was? It would be a thousand times worse. Everyone so concerned that poor Qui-Gon was being duped by his captivating young lover. There was no way around the situation. It was yet another thing he would have to get over if he chose to pursue Obi-Wan.

If Qui-Gon wanted to talk to Obi-Wan anytime soon, he would have to go to Adi's quarters. Today, though, he would leave Obi-Wan alone. He was almost positive the young man would be back tomorrow. Obi-Wan was too diligent about his role as Adajia to stay away. When he did return, Qui-Gon would apologize until he was hoarse if that were what it would take to get back into the Obi-Wan's good graces.

On to part 2