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"There we go," Terza said, lasering the incision closed before laying a hand over the mark. As Obi-Wan felt the woman send Force energy into the new wound, Anakin twitched.

"Sorry," he mumbled, as Terza's hand fell away. "That tickled." There was not even a hint of a scar from removing the detonator. "Thanks, Healer Terza."

Terza grinned. "You're welcome, little Skywalker," she said, tweaking his nose. At first the woman had been bothered greatly by the fact that Anakin had greeted her by name, striding right up to hug her around the legs, but she was coping gracefully, Obi-Wan thought. "Now then. I've just heard from my Padawan. Master Qui-Gon is keeping your mother company, just like Obi-Wan is doing for you. Abella says that she's finished with your mother's detonator. So, we're moving right along. Both of you are going to get the Healer's special today, and make sure you're fit and healthy. But first, just for you, a blood test."

"Right," Anakin said, watching as she picked up a blood analyzer. "You wanna know how many bugs I've got in my system."

Terza snorted a laugh. "They're midichlorians, Anakin."

Anakin shrugged cheerfully. "Midichlorians, bugs. Whatever." He watched curiously as she tagged herself with the analyzer first, then wiped away a single drop of blood on a sanitized cloth. "Why'd you do that?"

"Well, considering the unusual amount of bugs in your system," she said, and Obi-Wan grinned, "I'm going to calibrate it against two other known midichlorian counts, first. Then we'll know that your count is accurate."

"Oh." Anakin gave Obi-Wan a mischievous look. "I think she means you're next, Obi-Wan," he stage-whispered.

Obi-Wan sighed dramatically. "I'm afraid so," he said, offering his hand. "Should be twelve point five thousand, Healer Terza."

"Not bad, not bad," Terza said teasingly. "You've outdone this old Healer, at least." Obi-Wan snorted. The Healer smiled and turned away, waiting patiently for the results.

Anakin scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan. "Are they going to test me again? You know, like last time?"

Obi-Wan rested his chin on top of Anakin's head as he hugged the boy in return. "Yes, they're going to test you again. And no, I very much doubt it will be like last time. You've already made a good impression with Master Yoda and Master Giett, and they are both highly respected members of the Council. You have no reason to fear, Ani."

There was a sudden, quickly muted, spike of astonishment. Obi-Wan glanced up to find Terza staring at him curiously. "What is it?"

The older woman shook her head, glancing away. "It's nothing. Nothing important, at any rate. Ready for a bug-count, Anakin?"

Obi-Wan gave her a thoughtful look, but let it go. Anakin grinned and held out his hand, and Terza quickly and painlessly pricked the tip of his finger with the needle. He stuck the wounded finger in his mouth before the Healer could hand him a cloth. "Don't need it. It'll only bleed for a second."

Terza rolled her eyes. "Children!"

"Well, now for the horrifying results," Terza announced, walking into the room. Padawan Abella, a furred Chitanok with large dark eyes and a cheerful demeanor, followed at her heels. Shmi looked up, her sudden tension at Terza's words melting away as she took in the Healer's smile. Anakin sat up in his mother's lap, and Qui-Gon put down the datapad he had been trying to focus on. It had been difficult, to say the least; already the Council had assigned him a new mission, and he was supposed to leave in three days.

He looked over at Obi-Wan, who sat cross-legged in a chair, clear-eyed and listening attentively as Terza went over the results of the medical scans with the Skywalkers. It's too soon, he thought, saddened, and wrenched his attention away from his Padawan. He owed Terza the courtesy of listening to her, at least.

"You're both as healthy as can be expected, living where you did," the Healer was saying. "I'm putting you both on mandatory water consumption to make up for your environment. Those little headaches you've been having?" Terza said, looking to Shmi. "They're dehydration-induced. Once we get your insides soaked, they shouldn't bother you anymore. You," she said, turning to Anakin., "could use several dozen good meals. You weren't so bad off, according to your mother, but the fever you picked up and your subsequent bout with unconsciousness has left you nothing but bones." Anakin grinned at that. "I'm putting you on a vitamin supplement to make up for what you've lost. You've received the full range of inoculations, and you're already well-aware that you get another round of boosters in two weeks."

Anakin shrugged. "It was worse before. I didn't just have to get the Temple inoculations. I had to get shots for everything."

Obi-Wan laughed quietly. "Could have been worse than that. You could have been like me, and been allergic to the dyptherias immunization."

Qui-Gon winced. "That was distinctly unpleasant." His fifteen year old Padawan had been violently ill for days, right in the middle of a mission, and there was no help for it but to see the effects through. Obi-Wan had never complained, even though the bond between them had told Qui-Gon of the boy's abject misery as he practically camped out in their cabin's tiny 'fresher.

"And, of course, there's the midichlorian count," Terza interrupted. "You, little Skywalker, are astounding. Twenty-three thousand."

"Sounds like an infestation," Obi-Wan said drolly.

Anakin clapped both hands over his mouth, stifling his sudden giggles.

"Obi, that's not funny!" Abella exclaimed, mortified.

Anakin nodded quickly, removing his hands to reveal a wide grin. "Yes it is!" the boy gasped out, then put his hands over his mouth again. Obi-Wan's shoulders shook with silent laughter. Qui-Gon was left with the distinct impression that he was missing out on a joke.

Terza sniffed impatiently. "If you two are quite finished..." she waited expectantly while the two got themselves under control. If she was surprised that it took only moments, Anakin recovering his calm with a Jedi's quickness, she made no mention of it. "The Council will speak with you tomorrow about testing," she said. "In the meantime, I've already received a housing assignment for you, Lady Skywalker. Anakin will stay with you for now, and you will still be close by if he gets accepted into the creche."

"That sounds fine. Thank you very much," Shmi responded, giving the Healer a graceful nod. "I appreciate everything you're doing for us."

"Think nothing of it," Terza waved her off. "You are deserving of every courtesy, for everything you have endured." Shmi smiled and colored slightly, settling her arms more securely about her son. "I have work to do here, but Abella will escort you."

The Padawan nodded, waiting patiently as Shmi, Anakin, and Obi-Wan rose. Then she led the way out of the Ward. Qui-Gon, following, was halted by Terza's gentle hand on his arm. "Qui-Gon... I need to speak with you."

He turned, caught by the intense gleam in her eyes. "What is it, Terza?"

She bit her lip, obviously distraught, then led the way back into the Ward proper. "Come with me. I have to show you something, Master Jinn. I really don't know what to make of it."

Curious, he followed her back into the exam room she'd used for Anakin's physical. She picked up an analyzer, staring at the readout for a full minute before she spoke again. "Qui-Gon, when I tested Anakin's midichlorian count, I tested myself and Obi-Wan first. I wanted other confirmed counts, so I would know Anakin's to be correct." She drew in a deep breath, then handed him the analyzer.

Qui-Gon glanced down at the read-out, showing a count of twenty-two thousand. "I don't understand. I thought that Anakin's was twenty-three?"

Terza turned back to him with wide eyes, her hands knotted together so tightly her knuckles were white. "That's not Anakin's count."

"We don't have much," Shmi was saying, holding Anakin's hand as they followed Abella down the corridor. "We don't need that much room, really."

"Well," Abella said, her eyes twinkling with humor, "they were going to put you in one of the diplomatic suites, but I talked them out of it. You could get lost in one of those things!"

Shmi grinned. "I thank you. I fear I am already lost, and would at least like to know where I am in my own room."

Obi-Wan and Anakin exchanged smiles as Abella stopped and opened a door, leading them inside.

"Wow!" Anakin exclaimed cheerfully, taking in the room with large eyes. There was a tan, soft carpet on the floor, blending in peacefully with the tan and cream-colored furniture in the main room. A small kitchen was visible off to the left, along with three doors on the right that led to two bedrooms and a 'fresher, respectively. "They can do cozy!"

Obi-Wan grinned and draped an arm across Anakin's shoulders. "It's just that we're too busy to make our own places this nice. When you're running around the galaxy, your only concern when you get home is that you have a bed. Or really, any horizontal surface works just as well."

Anakin snickered. "That explains the old couch."

Obi-Wan tugged on a lock of Anakin's hair playfully. "Shhh. I happen to like that couch."

Shmi investigated the room quietly, running her hand along the back of a comfortable-looking chair. "They've already brought our things!" she exclaimed as she entered the first bedroom. Anakin's face lit up, and he practically ran into the other bedroom. "Wow! And Threepio didn't lose any pieces from being carted around!" Obi-Wan watched as the boy settled happily onto the bed, digging eagerly into the bags he had brought from Tatooine.

Abella stepped close to Obi-Wan, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Obi?"

Obi-Wan turned to look at her. Abella had been a creche-mate of his, and still used the short form of his name. "What is it, Bella?"

"Uhm... I was wondering." She reached up to tug on her braid, her expression questioning. "I didn't want to say anything in front of everyone," she whispered. "Your braid's gone... you're not leaving us, are you?"

He smiled, taking his friend's furred hand in his own. "No, Bella. I'm not leaving." He drew in a deep breath. He was going to have to share the news sooner or later. "I've been Knighted."

Abella's eyes went wide, her mouth hanging open in shock. "Knighted?" she squeaked. "But Obi, you're... you're sixteen! You've only been a Padawan for three years! You..." she trailed off as he merely looked at her. "You're serious!"

"I am," he nodded, smiling wryly. "If it makes you feel any better, I am not the youngest Knight there ever was."

"The hell with that!" the girl exclaimed, then lowered her voice again. "Obi, this is incredible! How... I mean, why did the Council..." she waved her free hand in the air, flustered.

"Listen," he said, watching as she calmed herself. "Find everyone tomorrow and meet me in the commissary for dinner. I'll tell you all what I can."

Abella frowned. "Well, it'll just be myself and Bant, then. The others are all off on missions, running around the galaxy like Killi birds without heads." She shook her head, clearly an indication that she felt she had gotten the better bargain as a Healer assigned to the Temple. "And what do you mean, you'll tell us what you can? What's going on, Obi?"

"It's... complicated," he hedged. When she stared at him expectantly, he sighed. "You'll just have to trust me, Bella."

She ran her hands through her short-cropped mane, pinning him with a fierce stare. "You'd better have a good story for us, Obi."

He was saved from a reply as Anakin appeared in the doorway of his room, grinning. "C'mere, Obi-Wan! You've got to see this!" He let himself be dragged away by the happy child, and suddenly found himself wondering where Qui-Gon was.

"Force, I'm tired," Obi-Wan announced, hanging up his cloak as the door closed behind him. "I swear I'm going to get a decent night's sleep even if it kills me."

"Sleep is rarely fatal, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon observed, emerging from the kitchen with a mug of tea in his hands. He watched as Obi-Wan sat down on the couch, propping his feet up on the table as his head lolled back. He really did look tired, Qui-Gon realized, taking in the harsh lines on the young man's face and the dark crescents under his eyes. "I could put you under tonight, if you like. It may help."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, letting out a gusty sigh. "Suggestion tends not to work on me anymore. But I may be willing to give it a try. Even a little sleep would be better than..."

"Than waking yourself up screaming?" Qui-Gon said quietly, sitting in the chair opposite the couch. Obi-Wan nodded ruefully.

"It's only for another day or two," Obi-Wan said, crossing his arms and closing his eyes again. "The cycle never lasts more than two weeks." The nightmares that had begun on their trip to Tatooine had yet to cease, and true to form, Obi-Wan could remember nothing about them. Once, on the trip back, he had awoken Anakin with his screams and the stark terror he was unconsciously projecting. The boy had been terrified out of his wits, calmed only by a still-shaking, white-faced Obi-Wan.

"How long has this been going on?"

"A long time. It started after -- " Obi-Wan cut himself off, as if he realized he might have been about to reveal too much. "It started when I was in my thirties. Somewhere thereabouts."

Qui-Gon cradled the tea mug with suddenly cold hands. "What happened to you?"

"I don't remember," Obi-Wan whispered. He opened his eyes, suddenly looking lost. "It was blocked. I never worked through the block, and I really didn't care to try." He picked at the hem of his tunic unconsciously. "The block was put there by Jedi, I know that much. You can tell, if you know what to look for."

Qui-Gon shuddered. No Jedi would block off memories casually. There were too many things that could go wrong, and it was a belief of many that you should know everything possible about your own mind. To hide things from yourself, no matter how painful they might seem, was a potential weakness that others could exploit.

Obi-Wan shrugged mildly, as if following Qui-Gon's thoughts. "Considering the situation I was in, I decided it was better to just leave things alone." He looked down at his hands, lacing his fingers together as he realized what he was doing. "What did Terza speak with you about?"

Qui-Gon hesitated for only a moment. "She just wanted to rave about midichlorian counts, is all." He knew it was mostly Obi-Wan's silent desire to change the subject that had prompted the question. However, that was one subject he wasn't ready to speak of just yet. "How are they settling in?"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Anakin is ecstatic. Shmi is... handling it, and Anakin is doing his best to help her. Though I think I inadvertently stunned her when I gave her the Cho-Mar credits we had left."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Twenty thousand credits? The Council agreed to part with that much money?"

"Actually... Master Giett suggested it. It will be enough for Shmi to start a new life, at least." Obi-Wan looked amused. "Apparently the Council is very excited to have a walking Midichlorian advertisement on their hands, and they're feeling generous."

He laughed, almost choking on the tea he had been drinking. The young man might have been tired, but it didn't seem to be hampering his sense of humor any. "Thank you," Qui-Gon said, wiping split tea from his beard with as much dignity as he could muster. "Now I'm going to be thinking of that when we present Anakin for testing tomorrow. You do like to challenge me, don't you?"

Obi-Wan snorted. "The legendary Master Jinn is surely able to maintain a straight face before the Jedi Council."

Qui-Gon smiled. "There have been moments, Padawan. There have been moments. But I'm afraid I'm too tired to reminisce, unfortunately. I'm going to bed."

He stood up, taking the now empty mug back into the kitchen. He rinsed it out, leaving it to dry in the sink before turning out the lights. Back in the main room he found Obi-Wan standing as well, hesitant expression on his face. "Obi-Wan?"

"I... Master, if your offer still stands..." he smiled crookedly. "I would like to try and get some sleep. Could you...?"

"I will do my best," Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan looked relieved, and led them back into his room. The young man stripped himself down to his leggings without the faintest hint of his old modesty and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Don't need to do anything else?" he asked, kneeling down beside the bed.

Obi-Wan shook his head. Now that he was trying to relax, his exhaustion was becoming palatable. "Too tired."

Qui-Gon smiled gently. "Lie down, Obi-Wan. Let's see if we can remedy that." Obi-Wan nodded absently and did so, settling down onto the bed with a barely audible sigh. Qui-Gon brushed his hand through Obi-Wan's short hair, then absently traced the harsh lines of exhaustion that were etched around Obi-Wan's eyes.

"Master, if this doesn't work..." Obi-Wan smiled faintly. "I apologize in advance, Qui-Gon, if I interrupt your sleep."

"Again," Qui-Gon teased, carding his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair once more. The simple gesture had worked many times to calm his Padawan in the past, and it did seem to be helping now. "Trust me, Obi-Wan."

"With my life," Obi-Wan said quietly.

Qui-Gon blinked away sudden, unexpected tears and rested his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead. "Sleep."

The Force-compulsion almost didn't take, Obi-Wan fighting it at an unconscious level even as his eyes began to drift closed. "Trust me, Obi-Wan," he said again, whispering it in his ear. Qui-Gon increased the intensity of the order slightly, and sighed in relief as Obi-Wan's body finally obeyed, slipping into deep slumber. He sat there for a while longer, still running his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair. "And dream of better things."

Micah Giett looked from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan, a strange smile playing at his lips. "Who presents this child for testing?"

Obi-Wan rested his hands on Anakin's thin shoulders, his voice clear and strong. "Masters, I do."

Qui-Gon stood impassively beside them, a silent observer. The Council was extremely interested in Anakin, and were not bothering to hide it. He could feel their intense scrutiny of the boy, the same scrutiny that Obi-Wan had been subjected to only days ago.

Mace, to his credit, gave Anakin a reassuring smile. "Anakin Skywalker, come forth."

Anakin hesitated, looking up at Obi-Wan. "It's all right, Ani," Obi-Wan whispered. "He won't bite."

Anakin grinned briefly. Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulders, and Anakin took a few steps forward to stand in the center of the room. Mace nodded to them, and they bowed briefly before leaving.

Outside they found Shmi waiting for them, gnawing on the tips of her fingernails nervously. She practically bolted from her chair as she saw them. "Where's Ani? Is he all right?"

Qui-Gon smiled at her. "He's fine. The Council is going to test him now. Then they'll decide if he has a place here."

"Oh," Shmi replied, relaxing significantly. On the trip from Tatooine he and Obi-Wan had taken turns filling her in on the life of a Jedi. She had listened attentively, but most of her questions had centered upon what Anakin's life would be like if he were accepted for training.

The woman looked reborn, with her hair hanging loose in dark waves down her back. Obi-Wan and Anakin had insisted upon taking her to the markets, and her rough clothing had been replaced with a tunic and long skirt of dark red. She kept tugging on the new clothing, the motions of one whose life had drastically changed and was not yet sure what to make of it. "How long do we wait?"

"It may take a while. Testing is one thing, but Master Yoda will probably want to discuss Anakin's unusual situation with him." Obi-Wan took her arm gently when her hands began to wring together again. "But there's no sense in standing out here pacing the corridor. Why don't we go get something to eat?"

Shmi hesitated, eyes going to the closed Council chamber doors. "I'll stay," Qui-Gon offered, resting his hand on her arm. "Anakin already told us you didn't eat anything this morning."

She managed to look relieved and exasperated all at once. "That boy... All right. You'll tell us the moment you know anything?"

"Of course," he said, smiling as Obi-Wan grinned sunnily at her and led her down the corridor. He wandered over to the window, dropping to his knees before it. Qui-Gon followed the patterns of traffic for a few minutes, and before he knew it he had dropped into a light trance.

It was Adi's hand on his shoulder that roused him some time later. Stifling a yawn, he rose and followed her back into the chamber. Anakin was doing his best to remain still, giving a fair approximation of serenity, but once he saw Qui-Gon he grinned broadly. "I passed," he whispered, his eyes lit with inner joy.

Qui-Gon smiled back, taking Anakin's hand in his own. "Congratulations, Initiate Skywalker," he whispered back.

The boy fairly beamed, then looked around when he realized Qui-Gon was alone. "Where's Mom? And Obi-Wan?"

"Obi-Wan escorted her to the commissary for lunch," Qui-Gon told him, even as Adi took her seat. "We didn't think you would be done this soon."

Mace cleared his throat. "Anakin Skywalker, you are hereby welcomed into the Jedi Order, being of sound mind, heart, and follower of the Light. Do you know and understand all that is expected of you?"

Anakin nodded. "I do, Masters," he said, his young voice carrying throughout the chamber.

"Master Jinn, as one of his Searchers, do you stand witness?"

Qui-Gon squeezed Anakin's hand when the boy gave him a wide smile. "I do, Masters."

"Welcome you are, Anakin," Yoda said, climbing down from his chair and hobbling over to the boy. "Join the younglings in the creche, you will. See me there often you will, hmm?" Yoda smiled, prodding Anakin's arm gently with his gimer stick. "Several older children have come to the Jedi this year. Your age, two of them are. Join with their clan, would you like?"

Anakin smile grew brighter. "Yes Master Yoda. I'd like that a lot."

Qui-Gon suddenly felt relieved, though he could not have said why. "Anakin, why don't you go meet Obi-Wan and your mother in the commissary? I'm sure they'd very much like to hear the good news."

"Wizard!" Anakin agreed immediately, but hesitated before he moved. "Everything's okay, isn't it?"

Obi-Wan's right, he thought, hiding his surprise. The boy is very perceptive. "Of course, Ani. I just need to have an argument, and the Council is always willing to provide one."

He winced as a stick collided swiftly with his shin, and Yoda chuckled. "Start them yourself, you do. Your own fault, it is."

Anakin hid a grin with his hand. "Have fun, Master Qui-Gon." He bowed to the Council and left the room, his pace increasing dramatically as the doors swung closed behind him.

Micah immediately leaned forward. "All right, my friend, you've managed to pique our collective curiosity. What is it you need to speak to us about?"

Qui-Gon waited until Yoda had returned to his chair, his expression growing troubled. "Masters, Healer Terza discovered something unusual yesterday. She doesn't know what to think about it, and to be honest, neither do I."

"Something about the Skywalker family?" Adi asked, growing concerned. "The medical reports she sent us said everything was fine."

"Aside from having a new Initiate with a monstrously high midichlorian count," Eeth pointed out.

"No... no, everything is fine in that respect. Terza ran a midichlorian count on herself, and then on Obi-Wan, to use as a basis against Anakin's own count. She wanted to be sure that the analyzer was reading correctly so she would have official results for Anakin's file. The analyzer was indeed working correctly; she tested it on several other Jedi, myself included, after Anakin's blood test."

"Spit it out, Qui-Gon," Mace interrupted him. "Whatever it is you're dancing around, it can't be that bad."

Qui-Gon considered glaring at Mace, but it wasn't worth the effort. "Masters, Obi-Wan's midichlorian count is different."

Yoda's eyes widened. "Oh? Different how, Master Qui-Gon?"

He buried his hands in his robe sleeves, because otherwise he felt he might start clasping his hands as nervously as Shmi Skywalker had been. "It was originally twelve point five. That is the count recorded in his files."

"I take it that this is no longer the case," Depa frowned. "It's not unheard of for counts to change a little as we age, Qui-Gon. Mine went from eleven thousand to eleven point two when I was a Padawan."

Qui-Gon licked suddenly dry lips. "Masters, it is now twenty-two. Thousand."

For the first time in his life, Qui-Gon Jinn reduced the Jedi Council to absolute silence.

If the situation were any different, he would have enjoyed it. But this time things revolved around one of the most important people in his life, and he could only hope the Council had a better idea about what was going on than he did. "Masters, he doesn't know. When Terza asked for his count, he gave the original."

Saesee looked troubled. "Is such a thing possible? We know that Anakin and Obi-Wan shared their vision, but that could not explain such a change. Could it?"

"Many things have happened recently that are not supposed to be possible," Micah said, slumping back in his chair, looking pensive. "And if this is also true, then Obi-Wan must be hiding much of that strength, at least unconsciously."

Qui-Gon agreed with that; the young man's new skills and fine control aside, his presence in the Force seemed no more powerful than it always had. "What could this mean?"

"I don't know," Mace shrugged, as the others slowly shook their heads. "This... we need time to think about this, Qui-Gon."

"Tell him, you should not," Yoda spoke up, his voice more troubled than Qui-Gon had ever heard. "For now, best this might be. Enough he has to think about, hmm?"

"I'm not sure if that's the best idea, Master." He sighed, offering the ancient Master a tight smile. "But as I hardly know what to think of this myself, I'll agree to it for now."

"Well, what do you think?" Obi-Wan asked the little boy holding his hand tightly.

Anakin looked around the room, taking in the Initiates already present, each involved in their own activity. This was the main room for the clan Yoda had assigned him, a brightly colored space filled with toys, books, Jedi teaching tools, art supplies, and even a vidscreen in one corner. There were two Knights in charge of the small group, who were the Falcon clan's primary care-givers. Obi-Wan knew one especially well, the furred Wookiee female Terrilanar, who had watched over him several times when he was small. At three hundred years of age, her fur was beginning to turn gray in places, but she was possessed of boundless patience and a sense of humor that children responded well to.

"It's wizard! Am I going to live here?"

Obi-Wan pointed to a doorway which led into a currently dark room. "In there is the dormitory for the Falcons. You sleep in there with everyone else, and even Terrilanar stays in there with you."

"Oh." Anakin nodded, then looked over to where Qui-Gon and Shmi were speaking with the other Knight, a gentle-voiced Camaasi woman named Zulis Faar. "I'm going to be fine in here, Obi-Wan. You know that. But what are we going to do about Mom?"

"Do?" Obi-Wan blinked, taking in Shmi's relaxed posture. Anakin's mother had been overjoyed to hear of her son's acceptance into the Order, and was eagerly learning all she could about where Anakin would be living and who would be taking care of him. Obi-Wan himself had already spoken to the two Knights, making sure that Anakin would be allowed to see his mother occasionally while she was still on Coruscant. Terrilanar, to his relief, had understood immediately. The elder Wookiee did not have the problem many creche masters did, who felt that the children in their charge should have no contact with their family. Terrilanar believed that family strengthened a child's commitment to the Order. After all, she had once said, families were of the people Jedi swore to protect. He suspected Yoda had remembered this, too.

"Yeah. I mean, I'll have friends and Terrilanar and everything, but Mom will be alone. She'll be lonely, Obi-Wan." Anakin tugged on his hand, and Obi-Wan knelt down on the floor so Anakin could whisper in his ear. "You know, they were all really happy together on Tatooine. I remember that."

"Really," Obi-Wan replied, mulling that over. Truthfully, he had been giving the matter a lot of thought, himself. "You know, I haven't seen my family in a long time. Perhaps I should call them. Who knows? Maybe my father would agree to a trip to Coruscant."

Anakin grinned. "You think so?"

Obi-Wan grinned back, pulling the boy into a hug. He did miss them, there was no doubt about that. "I'll do my best."

"All right, Obi-Wan Kenobi," a voice said demandingly. "It's time for you to talk."

Obi-Wan looked up from his dinner to find Bant and Abella glaring down at him. "Can't you ask nicely?"

Bant sighed, rolling her large, expressive eyes. She put down her tray, then sat next to Obi-Wan. Abella mirrored the gesture, sitting on the other side of him and effectively blocking him in. "We want an explanation," Bant said, giving him the Calamarian approximation of a smile. "Please."

"I suppose Bella has already told you that you're sitting next to Knight Kenobi, and I could pull rank and keep everything to myself," he said, smiling down at his tray.

Abella snorted. "You wouldn't dare."

"Besides," Bant said, stirring up the contents of her tray with a fork. "I'll pout. And you haven't been able to resist that since we were in the creche together."

Obi-Wan held up his hands, grinning. "I bow before your superior arsenal, my friends." He sat back, staring at each one in turn until Bant began to squirm uncomfortably. "Sorry," he apologized, turning his attention back to his tray. "I just... missed you. Both of you."

"You really did get hit in the head, Obi," Abella pointed at him with her fork. "You've only been gone a few weeks. It hasn't been that long since we spent any time together." When Obi-Wan paled, she lowered her fork in confusion. "Has it?"

"I suppose not," Obi-Wan said softly, then slowly filled his two friends in on what befallen him since Taro Tre. He didn't dare reveal any of the vision to them, because it would create questions for which he had no answers.

Abella knew something was not being said, and was not happy about it, but she didn't press him. Bant, for the most part, forgot to eat as she listened to her best friend speak.

"So what are you going to do, exactly?" the Calamarian girl asked, giving up and pushing her tray aside. "Knight or not, you're still our age. You're not even legal yet! How are you going to work?"

"I suppose I'll be working with a partner out in the field," he mused, pushing aside his own tray. He had been thoroughly reminded within just a few bites exactly why it was that he had always avoided the commissary. "Or I can always stay here and torture the Initiates."

"That little boy you brought in would love that, I'm sure," Abella said, shaking her head. "A count of twenty-three thousand! I can't imagine what that must be like!"

"It has its moments," Obi-Wan replied softly, not realizing he was clenching his fists tightly enough to gouge his palms with his nails. "Bella, could I ask you not to mention anything about that?"

"Why not? It's an incredible thing, Obi. We should be glad for how strong in the Force he's going to be!" Abella said frankly.

"Yes, it is an incredible thing," he agreed. "But he's going to be spending the majority of his time among the Initiates, and you can't have already forgotten what that was like."

Bant shuddered. "After what I watched you go through, there's no way I could forget, Obi-Wan. Bella, he's right. Once he gets older he's going to have enough problems to deal with, without being harassed over his midi-count."

"Well, well! Look who's finally deigned to grace us with his presence!"

Abella glanced up and sighed. "There's no need to be rude, Davrin."

The boy's voice, already mocking, sneered at the Apprentice Healer. "I wasn't speaking to you, furball."

Obi-Wan relaxed his hands and looked up to find Davrin standing in front of their table, resting his hands on his hips. "Hello, Padawan Davrin. I trust you're having a pleasant evening?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bant gape at him, and sighed to himself. No, he had not handled Bruck and his friends very well as a child, he remembered sadly. After Bruck's death, the abuse had worsened, especially when Davrin and Aalto were together. Fortunately it had been infrequent, if only because they were all away from the Temple so often.

Davrin was studying him, a malicious gleam coming into his eye. "I see your braid's gone, Kenobi. It's about time the Order realized how worthless you are. You should never have come back from the Corps, anyway."

"I see that your powers of observation have not changed since we last spoke," Obi-Wan replied evenly.

The boy's eyes narrowed. "You'd best watch it, Oafy-Wan," he retorted, resorting to the cruel nickname of their Initiate days. "Nobody's seen Master Jinn around all day. I'll bet he's glad to be rid of you."

He clenched his jaw so tightly that his teeth ground together, ignoring the sudden pain as he calmed himself. How in the worlds had someone as cold as this boy been taken as a Padawan Learner? Bruck might have had moments of friendliness, even if they were never directed at Obi-Wan, but Davrin had never been anything but cruel.

"He's not been cast out of the Temple, Davrin," Abella responded coolly. "The Council has Knighted him."

Davrin laughed outright. "Oh, right! That's the story Kenobi gave you, I'm sure."

"Tell me, Davrin," Obi-Wan said, placing a warning hand on Abella's arm when she would have spoken further. The beginnings of an idea was forming in the back of his mind. "Would it make you feel any better to believe that?"

Davrin snorted. "You think you're so high and mighty, Kenobi, that anything that happens to you bothers me?"

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and merely inclined his head in a graceful nod. "Then believe what you will, as nothing we say will persuade you otherwise."

When Davrin realized nothing more would be forthcoming, he stalked off, visibly fuming. Abella turned to him, dark eyes worried. "Why did you do that, Obi-Wan? You don't have to take that from him anymore!"

He sighed tiredly. "And it would not have done any good to tell him off either, Bella. If you can't change someone's mind, then you simply have to work with their own preconceived notions."

Bant smiled suddenly. "I see it."

Abella looked at the other girl. "You see what?"

Bant patted Obi-Wan's shoulder with her webbed hand. "I see the Knight before us."

Obi-Wan smiled at her, draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a quick hug. "Thank you, my friend." Then he sat back, letting their conversation drift to other things, and waited for the firestorm.

He didn't have to wait long. Davrin did not waste any time telling all and sundry among the Padawan sect of Obi-Wan's 'fate'. Before Abella had even finished eating, their table was surrounded by friends and colleges, all of them wanting to know exactly what was going on.

"Did you really get kicked out?"

"Davrin says they're going to send you off to the Corps. Obi-Wan, I don't want you to go!"

"I heard Master Jinn was going to leave the Order and that's why your braid is gone, because you're getting a new Master. Is that true?"

"Someone said they Knighted you! The Council wouldn't do that, would they? You haven't been a Padawan anytime!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Obi-Wan laughed, holding up his hands. "To answer your questions... No. I am not leaving the Jedi, Master Jinn is not leaving the Jedi, I am not getting a new Master." He deliberately did not answer the last question, waiting until he had silence again. They were attracting a great deal of curiosity from the Knights and Masters in the room, who were trying to listen in without being obvious about it. "In fact, Master Jinn and I are supposed to spar together in a half hour, in the public training salle. You're welcome to watch. Of course, if you don't mind standing witness as a Jedi Master wipes the floor with me."

Suddenly they had the table to themselves again, as everyone rushed off to either finish their meal or run to get good seats in the salle. Abella let out a long whistle and turned to Obi-Wan. "That was intense. What are you up to?"

Obi-Wan smiled innocently and picked up his tray. "Whatever gave you the idea that I was up to anything?"

"Uh huh," Bant muttered, watching her friend walk away. "Bella, I think we should go find ourselves a seat in the training salle."

"Good idea."

Qui-Gon made his way to where Obi-Wan was kneeling on the practice mat, his lightsaber held loosely in his hands, obviously waiting for him. "Padawan... what in the worlds are all of these people doing here?" The training salle was quite crowded, considering most Jedi were usually eating dinner at this hour. It wouldn't have bothered him if they were present to spar, but most of them seemed to be up in the stands. Waiting.

It didn't seem to be bothering Obi-Wan. "I spoke to Padawan Davrin during dinner, Master. You remember him, of course?"

Qui-Gon nodded. Mention of Davrin or his friend, Aalto, usually meant trouble. "Of course. What did he say?"

"Well, he seems to have gotten the impression that either you, I, or both of us are leaving the Jedi. Padawan Abella tried to dissuade him from the notion, but it doesn't seem to have worked." He glanced over to the stands, where Davrin and Aalto were sitting. Qui-Gon turned and caught sight of the rude gesture they offered Obi-Wan and narrowed his eyes. Both of them immediately looked down at the floor, but Qui-Gon wasn't fooled. Neither of them were the slightest bit repentant. When were those two going to grow up?

Obi-Wan stood, stretching carefully as he did so. "They've been spreading the rumor throughout the entire temple, Master. I mentioned to some friends that we were going to spar this evening, so I suppose they want to see what's true and what isn't."

"Really." Qui-Gon shrugged out of his robe, running through his warm-up exercises while Obi-Wan waited patiently. "Very clever, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I learned from the best, Master Jinn."

"Hmm. Does your Master know he raised a manipulative sneak, Knight Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan followed him out onto the practice floor, grinning. "Well, if he didn't before, he certainly does now."

They faced each other on the mat, igniting their lightsabers and crossing blades. Light blue and green sparked and hissed at the contact, and the crowd that had gathered immediately fell silent. "You got us into this, Obi-Wan. What shall we do?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "We shouldn't disappoint our audience, Qui-Gon. Open spar?"

Qui-Gon nodded his agreement, and instantly Obi-Wan was on the move. As suddenly as he disengaged from the start position his blade was back, and Qui-Gon swung his own saber up to block, reversing to slice at Obi-Wan just as quickly.

Obi-Wan danced away, grinning. Qui-Gon felt an answering grin form on his own face as he followed, deciding a test of his former Padawan's agility was in order. He darted in, swinging low and then high, forcing Obi-Wan to jump and twist to avoid the lightsaber. Then Qui-Gon found himself reacting on instinct, blocking a swing that would have singed neck and hair if left unchecked. Sith, he's fast! he thought, allowing himself to be pushed back as Obi-Wan came at him in a flurry of strikes.

They danced back and forth, neither of them truly gaining or losing ground, until Obi-Wan's style changed. Qui-Gon leapt back, but not quickly enough to avoid being marked. A burn appeared on his tunic sleeve, not deep enough to touch skin, but visible nonetheless. Obi-Wan shifted his stance, his blade-work completely unfamiliar as Qui-Gon kept trying to engage the other's lightsaber and not managing to do so. Then Obi-Wan turned, bringing his blade up in a thrusting arc, and Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he defended himself against it. He knew the move, because it was one Master Giett used when they sparred. Dammit, he switched to Sixth form on me. He pressed in close and swung down, forcing Obi-Wan to drop and roll away. Two can play at that game.

Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon forced his body to shift out of the form he had used for over half of his life, returning to the stance his Master had originally taught him as a Padawan. He had only drilled in it since, enough to remember the motions, and never around Obi-Wan, if only because the boy's agility had made him a natural for the Fourth.

Allowing himself a smile, he watched Obi-Wan advance, both of them carefully circling each other. When Obi-Wan leapt to attack, he was ready, darting out with his lightsaber to deflect Obi-Wan's blade away and driving further inward before the other could recover.

Obi-Wan backed away, a burn marring his thigh. He raised startled eyes to Qui-Gon, obviously shocked, before returning to the rhythm of the fight. Qui-Gon's advantage was gone after that, because Obi-Wan immediately began to demonstrate that he was intimately familiar with the Second form as well.

A few more furious exchanges found them locked together, body to body, where Qui-Gon's greater height and weight was a distinct advantage. As their eyes locked, Obi-Wan seemed to shrug. He grabbed Qui-Gon's wrist with one hand, offering a feral grin. "Bye, Master," he said, and Qui-Gon barely had time to blink before Obi-Wan brought the Force to bear and used it to send him flying.

He twisted in midair, instinctively sending out a wave of Force energy in response, and heard a startled yelp just before he hit the floor. The air left his lungs in a rush, and for a moment he could only lay there, stunned.

Then Mace was standing over him, looking down at him in concern. "Qui-Gon? Are you all right?"

Qui-Gon drew in several deep breaths before he found his voice. "Who won?"

Mace sighed as someone else laughed, then helped Qui-Gon to his feet. "Neither of you. But you two managed to impress the hell out of everyone, if that was your intention."

Belatedly Qui-Gon realized that he and Obi-Wan were being applauded by the gathered Jedi. "They're congratulating us for hitting the floor?" He took the towel Mace offered, mopping sweat from his face.

"I don't know whether to be flattered or appalled," Obi-Wan drawled, walking over with Micah at his side. Then he stilled, stiffening minutely before giving a graceful bow. "Master Dooku."

Qui-Gon turned to find his old Master standing behind him, smiling warmly. "Master," he blurted in surprise, before bowing himself. "I did not realize you were here."

Dooku chuckled, walking forward to wrap Qui-Gon in a swift embrace. "I've only just arrived, and I'm afraid I'll be leaving again in the morning. But when I heard you and your Padawan were to spar, I couldn't resist the opportunity. I must admit, I was surprised to see you resort to the Second. I remember quite well how much you disliked it."

"Well," Qui-Gon replied, grinning. "I was hoping for a tactical advantage, but it doesn't seem to have worked."

"Yes, I noticed!" Dooku studied Obi-Wan curiously. "That was an impressive recovery, young man. You defended quite well against a form that is rarely used. Quite commendable."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you, Master."

"I must say I couldn't believe it when I heard the Council had Knighted you, young Kenobi," Dooku said, stroking his beard idly. "But after that display, I quite agree with them. You have great talent, my friend." Which, Qui-Gon knew, smiling to himself, was exactly the result Obi-Wan had planned for. There were few standing witness to the bout that would fail to recognize the skill Obi-Wan had revealed.

"Thank you again," Obi-Wan said, bowing at the praise from the senior Master. "I had an excellent teacher." He straightened, tugging ruefully at his burnt leggings. "If you'll excuse me, Masters."

"Of course, Obi-Wan," Micah said, slapping him on the shoulder. "Go get that burn taken care of. We Masters need to rub in the fact that Qui-Gon was tossed across the room by someone half his size."

"Micah," Qui-Gon growled warningly, but Micah only grinned in response. "Fine. You spar him and see how far you fly."

Obi-Wan smiled and turned away. Qui-Gon watched him go, strangely unnerved. Obi-Wan had been completely at ease until Dooku had joined them, the casual teasing immediately disappearing into perfect politeness. He shook his head and turned back to his friends. Dooku had been around only rarely during Obi-Wan's apprenticeship, and they were practically strangers. That would explain Obi-Wan's sudden formality, being uncomfortable around someone he barely knew.

Wouldn't it?

He discarded his concern as unimportant, then paused a moment as a thought struck him. Waving Micah to silence, he pitched his voice to carry across the salle. "Knight Kenobi."

He hid a grin as the babble of voices hushed immediately in stunned amazement. Mace gave Qui-Gon a sour glare as Obi-Wan looked up, already pinned in by Padawans Bant and Abella. "Yes, Master?"

"We should do this again tomorrow, I think. Are you interested?"

The half-smile was back, setting off Obi-Wan's dancing blue-green eyes. "That sounds fine, Qui-Gon. Though tomorrow, I'm going to win."

Qui-Gon's answering laugh was swallowed up by the sound of a roomful of shocked Jedi all beginning to speak at once.

Obi-Wan was out on the balcony again, dressed only in his undertunic and leggings. The light color stood out in sharp contrast against the darkened sky. Qui-Gon stepped up beside him, leaning against the rail. The breeze immediately went to work, tugging at his hair and clothing playfully.

"I spoke with the Council this evening," Qui-Gon said, following Obi-Wan's gaze up into the sky. No stars were visible, not here. He wondered if that was the cause of the sadness he felt from Obi-Wan. "They want to send us back out into the field soon."

Obi-Wan nodded, dropping his gaze to the flow of traffic visible some distance away, restricted from entering Temple airspace. "Yes. Yoda mentioned that you have already been assigned a new mission."

Qui-Gon didn't miss his wording. You, not we. He sighed, resting his hands on the cool metal railing. So much had happened in so little time, and he was still trying to wrap his mind around it all. It saddened him greatly to know that he would not even have the pleasure of Obi-Wan's company beyond the next two days.

Better to make a clean break, he thought, ignoring the pain he felt. It was the right thing to do, something he should have offered Obi-Wan days ago. "You're a Knight now, my Padawan. It does entitle you to quarters of your own." He forced himself to smile. "I'm sure you're tired of finding the occasional pathetic life-form in your bed upon waking."

Obi-Wan smiled, still watching the traffic. "It was not so bad as that, my Master."

"Nevertheless, you should have them. You deserve your privacy, after all. Besides," he couldn't resist adding. "When you take an Apprentice of your own, it would be very difficult to explain why both of you are sharing a Padawan's room."

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Very well. You're right, of course."

"Good," Qui-Gon rested his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder briefly. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then." He turned and retreated back into their quarters, not seeing the sad blue-gray eyes that watched him go.

The next morning Qui-Gon found himself in front of a familiar doorway, raising his hand to ring the door chime.

"Come in," filtered through the speaker before he could do so, and Qui-Gon grinned and opened the door, stepping into Tahl's quarters.

Tahl herself was sitting on the couch, surrounded by her usual collection of datapads. She looked up from the one in her lap, smiling a welcome. Even though she was blind, she had never lost the habit of facing whatever it was that held her attention. "Good morning, Qui-Gon. You feel like you need tea."

Qui-Gon nodded, taking off his cloak and hanging it up next to the door. "Tea would be nice, yes." He walked into the kitchen, passing Tahl's deactivated guide-droid and sparing it an amused glance. "Shall I make it for two?"

Tahl stretched her arms up over her head, turning off the datapad that was still broadcasting audio in an older dialect of Alderaan. "Yes, please. Force knows I haven't even been to bed yet."

He waited for the water to boil, searching the counter for the tea blends. "Tahl, where in Force's sake did you put the tea this time?"

She snorted. "I didn't put it anywhere. That blasted droid did. Check underneath the sink."

The tea was there, along with a stack of dishes that he knew belonged elsewhere. "New programming mod?"

"Uh huh. Apparently reaching up into the cabinets is dangerous for the blind, and I should crawl around on my hands and knees to find things." She snorted her opinion of that idea.

He smiled, pouring the steaming water over a strong red blend that they could probably both use. He carried both mugs back out into the main room, handing Tahl hers. "What's so fascinating that you've forgone sleep to study it?"

"The Alderaan Treatise of 3866," she replied, waving at the cluster of datapads. "I always wanted to study it, and I certainly don't have anything better to do at the moment. After I finish my dissection, Depa wants me to put together a lecture on it. I look forward to starting a great many arguments."

"I'll have to attend this lecture, if I'm on Coruscant at the time." He sipped at his tea, taking obscene comfort in the fact that it was nearly hot enough to scald his tongue.

"That's good to hear, Master Jinn, as the lecture would no doubt be boring otherwise. But I get the feeling you're not here to discuss Alderaanian history." Tahl set the datapad aside, turning her full attention to him. "This is about Obi-Wan, isn't it."

Qui-Gon winced. "I take it you've heard."

"I've heard all kinds of things," Tahl replied mildly. "But I'm not sure what's true and what isn't."

Qui-Gon set his mug down on the table, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He had practically fled his own quarters at dawn, unwilling to watch as Obi-Wan made ready to move out. Closing his eyes and letting out a pained sigh, he began to speak, telling Tahl about everything that had happened since the Council had sent them to Taro Tre. It took a long time, and by the time he was finished, his tea was stone cold.

"That's incredible, Qui-Gon, and you know I won't say such a thing lightly," Tahl said thoughtfully, using a touch of the Force to re-heat the cold tea before handing it back to him. "Going by what you've told me... Force, Qui-Gon, do you realize that mentally, he's our age?"

Qui-Gon gaped at her, stunned.

"Hmm." She smiled, picking up on his shock. "I guess you hadn't thought about that. I doubt anyone really has. Well, perhaps Master Yoda," she amended. "I think the little troll knows more about what's going on than he's admitting."

Qui-Gon smiled faintly. "As usual. Tahl... there's something I haven't told the Council, but I've got to speak to someone about it." He got up and started to pace as she waited patiently. "Anakin's midichlorian count is twenty-three thousand, I mentioned that to you. But while we were on Tatooine, I kept feeling something, like the Force was trying to guide me in a certain direction." He ran one hand through his hair to keep it out of his eyes, only then realizing he had forgotten to tie it back. "According to Lady Skywalker, Anakin doesn't have a father. I don't know if that means literally, or if she doesn't know anything about him beyond...." He waved his hand distractedly. "Well. You know. She was a slave all of her life, and more than likely didn't have a choice in the matter."

Tahl's sightless eyes widened. "Yes. I can see why you didn't bring that up with the Council. Qui-Gon, that sounds like the Prophecy of the Chosen One."

"Yes, I know," Qui-Gon replied, sitting back down to stare at the table. "I asked Obi-Wan about it, and he confirmed it. It was apparently the same during their vision, and though the prophecy must have been fulfilled, he's not sure what it applied to."

Tahl mulled over that silently for a few minutes. "There's more, isn't there. You wouldn't be this tense otherwise."

Qui-Gon released a long breath, willing some of his tension to dissipate with it. "Terza took Obi-Wan's midichlorian count while we were in the Ward. His count has jumped from twelve thousand to twenty-two thousand, Tahl. I did tell the Council about that, but they don't know what it could mean. I don't either. He and Anakin are linked so strongly already, but a strong bond couldn't create that kind of midichlorian increase. Or would it?" He ran both hands through his hair this time, pushing it back behind his ears. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss."

Tahl tapped her fingers on the arm of the couch, contemplating what Qui-Gon had told her. "It sounds like I've got a new research project on my hands."

Qui-Gon looked up hopefully. "Then you will look into this? I'd spend the time in the archives myself, but the Council is already sending me out again."

Tahl laughed. "Qui-Gon, even if you didn't ask me to, I don't think I could resist. If Anakin and Obi-Wan are linked that strongly, the prophecy might have some sort of explanation. There's more than one translation of it, of course, not to mention the challenge of finding the original. It was written after Kun's fall, by one of the Jedi who survived the war..." she trailed off, muttering to herself under her breath.

"Tahl?" Qui-Gon caught her attention again, smiling, knowing she would hear the smile in his voice. "Thank you. I do appreciate this, more than you know."

"Qui-Gon..." Tahl sighed, leaning over to find and hold Qui-Gon's hands with her own. "I know well how much this means to you. Obi-Wan is practically your other half, for all that he's so young. Well," she amended, grinning slightly. "Sort of. The two of you work brilliantly together."

His smile vanished abruptly. "Yes," he said softly. "We did."

Tahl noticed immediately. "Qui-Gon?"

"I'm sorry, Tahl. I need to go..." He walked to the door, slipping into his cloak, ignoring Tahl's worried glare. "Thank you for speaking with me, my friend. I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Tahl replied, and he quickly stepped through the open door, letting it close behind him.

When he returned to his rooms later that morning, Obi-Wan was already gone.

"Seven... Eight... Nine..." Tahl stopped, running her hand across the door until she found the raised plate that listed the room's occupant. It was blank, but she could sense someone inside, deep in concentration. Obi-Wan Kenobi was the only recent move listed in the Temple directory, so this had to be the right place. She pressed the door chime and waited.

After a moment the door opened, the slight rush of air stirring her hair back from her face. "Obi-Wan?"

"Tahl!" Obi-Wan's voice responded, his surprise audible at first, but gone when he spoke next. "Welcome. Come in," he said, taking her hand and leading her into his quarters. She smiled at his thoughtfulness; even though she had worked for over two years now on sensing the placement of objects with the Force, she still stumbled occasionally. She practiced even now, feeling as he led her around two boxes, a single chair, a table, and then a couch. "Please, sit down," he said, his voice refined, polite, and very adult. She noted the changes calmly, prepared by what Qui-Gon had told her early that morning. It was all part of a fascinating puzzle, centered on a young man she had come to care for deeply, despite the odd beginning to their relationship.

She settled on the couch, her senses already working to map out the rest of the room for her. It felt bare, beyond what she had already sensed, and Obi-Wan's voice echoed enough to tell her that the walls must also be bare. "I hope you don't mind me intruding," she said, her words dropping into what was definitely a mostly-empty space. "I wanted to come and see how you were getting along."

She felt the smile in his voice, sensing that he was genuinely pleased to see her. "I don't mind at all. You're a welcome interruption, actually. Would you like some tea? It's quite literally the only thing I have to offer at the moment, save water."

"Tea is fine, Obi-Wan," she smiled. If there was anything she appreciated about Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, it was the tea they made, and she was a caffeine addict if the Jedi had ever had one. "Do you have a green?"

"You're in luck," he replied with a wry lilt to his voice, and she listened as his footsteps receded into what must be the kitchen.

"What did I interrupt? I'm in a fairly inquisitive mood today, I warn you."

He laughed softly, the sound carrying easily to her sensitive ears. "Well, new Knight I may be, as I'm sure you've heard by now--" Tahl grinned, "-- but I still have to finish off all of the required coursework. I've been neglecting to unpack in favor of that. The sooner I get it all completed, the sooner I can make myself useful to the Order again."

"All of it? Obi-Wan, that's horrible," she exclaimed, appalled in spite of herself. At sixteen, he was subject to two more years of coursework to complete the Galactic standard of education, as well as the specialized fields of study Padawans were given in the Temple.

"It's not bad, really," he said, voice floating closer as he returned. He held out one mug of tea, and she reached out unerringly to take it. She took a deep breath, savoring the pleasant scent of the gentle green tea Obi-Wan blended. "I... well, I don't sleep that much," he said, the chair creaking as he sat down in it. "Taking advantage of that, I've finished all of the necessary exams."

"When did you start?"

"Uhm." She sensed mild embarrassment. "Last night."

Tahl was glad she wasn't drinking, or she would have choked. This more than confirmed what Qui-Gon had said about Obi-Wan's advanced knowledge! "That's... very efficient of you," she managed.

He laughed. "Don't be afraid of hurting my feelings, Tahl. I know I'm... hmm. I guess 'unusual' would be the word to use. You're taking this much better than the Temple instructors, never fear. I've received excellent marks on all of the exams, and half of them were convinced I must have cheated."

"What are you going to do about that?" she asked. Accusations of cheating were taken very seriously in the Temple.

"I simply told them that if they felt that strongly about it, they should take it before the Council. That will stop a lot of problems before they start." He shifted in his chair, probably seeking a more comfortable position. "Fortunately they seemed to realize I was sincere, so instead I've just been assigned some extra little assignments."

"I'm going to be even more curious," she said, smiling as she sipped her tea. "What subjects do you have extra work in?"

"Temporal Physics, Poetry, Advanced Hacking--"

Tahl snorted. "Advanced Binary Coding, Obi-Wan."

She felt his amusement, hearing the soft clink of ceramic against wood as he set his mug down on the table. "Hacking. Coding. In that course, there is little difference."

"True enough, but you'll never hear me admit that publicly. What else?"

"I still have another language requirement to settle, so I'm preparing an essay in Shirriwook. I'll meet with the instructor later for verbal confirmation."

Apparently, Tahl found, there were still surprises left to uncover. "You speak Shirriwook?" she blurted.

[Fluently, my friend.] She jumped at the sounds of Wookiee speech, the rumbling purrs and howls familiar yet alien to her ears, emerging as they were from a human throat.

"Well!" she said, recovering her aplomb. "You shouldn't have any problem passing. You're bound to floor Master Reynaar." The Wookiee Knight took great pleasure in torturing his students as they struggled to learn the complex tongue, no easy feat even for Jedi.

"I'm thinking of simply describing my current situation for the paper on Temporal Physics. Once I get Master Kovin and Master Haffar arguing theories back and forth, they'll forget all about me."

Tahl laughed, for what he had said was very true. "Just try to get a grade out of them first, Obi-Wan."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, the chair creaking again as he stood up. There was the sound of stirring paper as he lifted something from the table, and a further rush of air as his arm stretched out. "More tea?"

Only then did she realize her mug was empty. "Yes, please." The mug was taken from her hand, and his footsteps carried him into the kitchen once more. She leaned forward, skimming the tabletop with the tips of her fingers. Several datapads caught her notice, but what she was seeking was the paper she could now feel. Pulling it closer, Tahl tried not to feel guilty for looking-- she had warned him, after all.

Running her fingers along the smooth sheet, she found the beginning of words, pressed into the paper by the strength in the hand of the writer. "Is this your poetry submission?"

"Yes," he replied. "It's not very good, but I remember being a lot worse at writing. You're welcome to read it, though I doubt I could stop you."

She grinned, knowing she was caught, and turned her attention back to the page. As her mind translated what her fingers were tracing, her smile began to fade.

That I thought was

Lost

Awakens to me

Not pale or transient

But whole, clinging to me with

All parts forgotten--

A lie between us holds

Everything within it

Years stolen in one last breath

But forgiveness now entwines

Two become mythical as one--

Or so I continue to dream.

She lifted her head from the page, knowing that her shock was easily read on her face. "Obi-Wan..."

She heard him set both mugs, heavy with liquid, down on the table. "That horrible, is it?"

"I... no," she whispered. The words had spoken to her deeply, as poetry rarely did. "This is beautiful. I mean, it's dark and sad, but maybe that is the grace of it." She put the first paper aside, her hands trembling slightly. There had been a strong emotional imprint on the page, one that had entwined itself with the words, and she was having trouble dislodging it. "You lost someone," she spoke as the realization struck. "Someone that meant a great deal to you."

"Yes." He was sitting again, the barest trace of sadness tingeing his aura of calm. "There's another one, as Master Kita-Tai required two for the final grade."

Tahl was almost afraid to read it, considering the personal nature of the first one. But her inborn curiosity would not allow her to dismiss it that easily. Brushing her fingers across the page, she began to read.

Who are we to stand

On the shoulders of those around us

We are risen only to fall, prey

To the very thing that drives us to be

Who we are

It was innocuous enough, but the hair on the back of her neck stood up anyway as she finished. That's a warning if I ever heard one, she thought, suppressing a shudder. "Well," she forced herself to say lightly, "if you don't pass, I will personally have words with Master Kita-Tai. And I want copies."

She didn't miss his surprise. "I don't need them," he said after a moment. "After I get them back, the originals are yours."

"Thank you," she said, still trying to work through her own unease. She hoped Kita-Tai wouldn't spend too much time brooding over the poems. The second one was pulling at her, and when it was back in her hands, she was taking it straight to Yoda.

"What in the worlds...?" Obi-Wan's voice trailed off, staring in consternation at the group gathered outside his door.

Bant grinned out from under the large arm that was currently slung across her shoulders. "Well, sir Knight? Are you going to let us in or what?"

"I... yes. Hell yes!" he grinned suddenly, stepping back so his friends could enter. "I thought Bella said that you two were off-planet for the next week, at least."

Garen grinned, pulling Bant forward with him. The boy had gone through an incredible growth spurt in the last year, and he was easily twice Obi-Wan's size. "That's how it was supposed to go, but the situation changed. Reeft, myself, and his Master got sent home early. Bella pounced us as soon as we stepped onto the landing platform, just about shedding her fur off to tell us the news."

Reeft peered out from behind Garen shyly. "Hi, Obi. Or do we have to call you Knight Kenobi now?"

Obi-Wan snorted. "Only if you want me to call you Padawan Reeft."

"Oh Force, no!" Garen exclaimed, before abandoning Bant long enough to pick Obi-Wan up in a bone-crushing embrace. "Congratulations, my friend."

Obi-Wan looked a bit rumpled when Garen released him, but he was smiling. "You seem to be taking it better than Abella."

"Yeah, well," Garen shrugged. "I've known since we were in the creche that you were Knight material. If the Council's gonna wake up and recognize that, I'm all for it."

"Besides," Bant said, her eyes glinting. "You're the first of our crechemates to be Knighted. That calls for a celebration."

"Celebration?"

"Uh huh." Garen nodded. He looked around the mostly empty quarters, grinning. "Nice place. Who's your decorator, Kenobi?"

"I don't exactly have a wide range of belongings," Obi-Wan retorted good-naturedly, waving to the half-unpacked boxes.

"Good thing we prepped for a hole-warming, too," Reeft said, plopping down on the couch. "Because this place could sure use it."

"I hope that doesn't involve setting the place on fire." Obi-Wan looked distressed, though his dancing eyes told Bant that he was anything but.

"There's no need for extreme measures." Garen paused, taking in the bare white walls. "Not yet, anyway."

"Bella's bringing the food--"

"And the liquor." Reeft glared at Garen as he was interrupted. Garen turned to Obi-Wan with a mournful expression. "Only Bella is legal, so we plied her with our best Padawan Pouts--"

"Ugh," said Bant. "Padawan Pouts? That's horrible."

Garen continued, oblivious. "--and she's also bringing your Hole-Warming, Knighting, We're-So-Glad-You're-Not-Dead gift."

"It's a special occasion and all," Reeft began.

"And we know you like rocks," Bant added.

"So we got you a boulder."

Garen flashed Bant a smug grin as their long-time friend collapsed into a chair, laughing. "You're going to make Bella carry it all by herself?"

"Well, come on. We're all Jedi here," Garen drawled. "You know. That whole 'size matters not' thing?"

"You're in rare form tonight," Reeft observed.

Bant crossed her arms and gave Garen a stern glare. "I'm telling your Master that you're not allowed to have any more caff."

Garen's horrified wail of denial blended in with their laughter.

The gathering was small and informal, a rare opportunity for four good friends to catch up on each other's lives. Bant found herself watching Obi-Wan as the night wore on, concerned and trying not to show it. He was quieter, more so than he had ever been, and occasionally she caught him staring out the window. The lost look in his eyes disturbed her for reasons that she couldn't name. The Trials had affected him deeply, she knew, even if he would not speak of what had happened.

If the others noticed that Obi-Wan's attention occasionally wandered, they said nothing, merely doing their best to steer him back into the conversation. It was a worthy effort, if only because they soon learned that their friend's mischievous sense of humor had become more pronounced since they were last together.

When he opened the present they'd bought for him, Obi-Wan laughed until tears rolled down his face.

"We told you we got you a rock," Reeft grinned.

Obi-Wan shook his head, lifting out the large wall tapestry to hold it in his lap. "That you did. This... this is incredible." He held it up, revealing the intricately detailed mountain scene. "I love it."

"You should hang it out here. That way you've still got plenty of room in the bedroom to hang up por--" Garen's suggestion was cut off by Abella's hand over his mouth.

"Why don't we just hang it on you?" she suggested sweetly.

All too soon the evening was over, and Padawans began to disperse. "I'm shipping out again tomorrow," Reeft said, giving Obi-Wan a quick hug. "We're going to the Corellian system. The Trade Federation is being dishonest, it seems, and the Council wants us to seek proof of their actions."

Obi-Wan didn't seem surprised. "Be careful out there. The Federation is used to thinking that money can buy them out of any wrongdoing."

"Whoah, you did get Knighted!" Garen teased cheerfully. "Advice and everything." He gave Obi-Wan another bear hug. "You all get the pleasure of my company for the next few days. I'm going to take advantage of the break and go for my frigate classification. Master Micah is going to love being co-pilot for that one."

Abella shooed the two boys out, then turned to wait for Bant. The other hesitated. "Go ahead," Bant said, watching Obi-Wan quietly begin to clean up.

The Chitanok girl followed Bant's gaze and gave her friend an encouraging smile. "Good luck," she whispered, and let the door close behind her.

Following his example, she helped Obi-Wan clean the room, depositing the trash in the kitchen's recycler. The hanging was draped reverently over the back of the couch, a temporary home until it could be hung properly. Finally Bant realized he was not going to speak on his own, and verbally cornered him. "Obi-Wan, what's wrong?"

He glanced up, surprise plainly written on his features. "I... nothing's wrong. Not really."

Not really? Bant wasn't about to let such a nebulous response go that easily. "You've been distracted all night, I know you have. You haven't changed all that much, that I can't recognize my own crechemate's brooding."

He sighed and walked over to the glass door that led to the balcony, leaning against it. "I wasn't brooding."

"Then what were you doing?"

The silence that met her question stretched out, filling the room as the minutes passed and he didn't answer. When she considered repeating the question, he answered. "Grieving."

That was not any kind of response she could have expected. "Obi?"

"I called my family today," he said, wrapping his arms tightly around himself. "I spoke to my little brother. Do you remember when I told you about him?"

"Yes," Bant nodded, stepping closer. "He sounded like he was a lot like you, without the troublesome aspects."

He laughed softly, but there was more distress in the sound than humor. "He's Anakin's age, or close to it. I remember the last time I went home, a few years ago. He was just starting to walk, but he still needed help. So I took him outside, and we walked through my father's fields all afternoon. I was using the Force to push the grass aside to make it easier for him, and he didn't understand why he couldn't do the same thing. But he kept trying, Bant. Stubbornness runs in the family."

"That's a beautiful memory, Obi-Wan," she said softly.

He nodded absently. "I was there for my mother's funeral. Did you know that?"

"No," Bant shook her head. "No, I didn't know that." It was, she was almost certain, the first time he had mentioned it.

"I liked her well enough, but I didn't really know her. The rest of the family and the neighbors, they were polite about it, but I could still hear them. I appeared to be quite the cold, heartless child, not even crying at his mother's funeral."

"That's not true, Obi-Wan," Bant replied, her concern rising as she sought to comfort him. "You're one of the most caring people I know!"

He raised stricken eyes to her. "Am I?" He turned away, staring out the window. "He died. I felt it when it happened. It hurt, even though he didn't really like me towards the end."

Died? Bant was bewildered. She could make little sense of what he was telling her, but the emotions he was projecting told her everything she needed to know. Her friend was upset, hurting terribly, and she had to do something about it.

"I couldn't even cry," he whispered. "I wanted to, but I couldn't, just because of the situation I had placed myself in. What kind of person would willingly do that to themselves, Bant?"

Watching Obi-Wan tremble, struggling to hold onto his control, was too much for the Calamarian girl. She walked forward and wrapped her dearest friend in a hug, shushing him as she would a child in the creche. "It's all right, Obi-Wan. It's all right. Whatever happened, it's okay now." She heard him draw in a ragged breath. "Let it go."

As if the words were a trigger, Obi-Wan collapsed against her, sobbing brokenly onto her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered, though she knew the words were not for her. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Bant held him, all she could think to do, feeling his slender body shake with the force of his grief.

The storm was fierce, but slowly began to ebb, and Obi-Wan slowly regained control of himself. By that time they were both sitting on the floor, and he was cradled in her arms. "Thanks," he whispered.

"You're welcome. I think you needed that."

He sighed, giving her a tremulous smile that made his eyes luminous, bloodshot or not. "I suppose I did. It was... everything just sort of hit me all at once."

"You've had a busy week," Bant agreed, brushing her hand through Obi-Wan's spiked hair. "You know, you should let this grow out. I bet you'd look great with long hair."

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow, the expression so familiar, so classically his, that she couldn't help but grin. "Not that I don't plan on doing that anyway, but is there any particular reason...?"

"I've heard that humans have a thing for red-heads," she teased, laughing when he blushed.

"Thank you, Bant," he said again when she quieted, expression serious. "You have no idea how much it means to me to have you here."

She smiled, hugging him close, the words warming her heart.

Epilogue:

"A partner?" Qui-Gon paused, his tea mug halfway to his mouth. "No. Absolutely not." He was due to depart that evening, though had done little to prepare besides read the mission briefing.

Mace stifled a sigh, putting his own mug down on the table. "Qui-Gon, wait a --"

"I don't want a blasted partner, Mace," Qui-Gon growled, getting up from the table to pace the kitchen. "I would very much prefer to work alone." Again, he added silently. Force, it had only been two days! Who would have thought he would miss Obi-Wan this much?

"Would you hear me out, at least?" When Qui-Gon said nothing, Mace took that for acceptance and continued. "You know we won't force you to work with anyone you're incompatible with, Qui-Gon. All the Council asks is that you work with a partner for this mission. If it doesn't work out, you can both go your separate ways."

He sat back down at the table, tempted to bury his face in his hands. "And if I refuse?"

Mace snorted. "Well, you're both going to Cardova II anyway. You might as well be prepared to work together."

"All right, Mace. You win, for now." It's only once, he told himself silently. As soon as the mission is over, I can go back to .... To what? he wondered. Brooding? Qui-Gon shook his head at himself, amusement warring with his irritation.

"Well, that's settled, then," Mace stood, placing his empty mug in the sink and retrieving his cloak. "Your new partner will be waiting for you out on Platform Three, along with your transport, which will arrive at fourteen hundred hours."

Fourteen hundred hours? Sith! he cursed, standing and dumping out the rest of his tea in the sink. "Thank you, Mace, for not telling me that the departure time was moved up." At this rate he had just under an hour to get ready.

Mace just laughed, to Qui-Gon's annoyance. "I'll show myself out. May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon."

It was only after Mace left that he realized he had forgotten to ask his new partner's name.

Platform Three was empty except for a lone figure, and Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief as he realized the transport had yet to arrive. Hurrying through the Temple without trying to look like one was in a hurry was taxing, to say the least. He walked forward, eyeing the cloaked figure curiously. Shorter than he was, the figure was dressed in a dark brown robe, hood up, emanating a sense of peaceful calm and patience. But Qui-Gon could not even begin to guess at the Knight's identity.

Then the robed figure turned, dropping back his hood, and grinned warmly at Qui-Gon. "You're late."

He stopped short, vaguely aware that he was staring openly. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan's grin broadened. "Come now, Master Jinn. Do you really think, after all the trouble Yoda went through to get us together in the first place, that you would be rid of me that easily?"

The familiar teasing broke Qui-Gon's paralysis. He laughed, striding forward to clap his hand down on Obi-Wan's shoulder warmly. "I suppose not," he admitted. "I didn't know you would be here."

Obi-Wan shrugged slightly. "Neither did I, until this morning. The Council decided to see if we could still work well together." He smiled. "What do you think?"

"I think I owe the Council a debt," Qui-Gon grinned. "I was not looking forward to working without you, my Knight."

"Good," Obi-Wan nodded, eyes dancing. "Because neither was I, my Master."

They waited together companionably for the transport, which was, by now, very late. Qui-Gon wouldn't have been surprised to find that Mace had sent them both out here this early on purpose. As they talked, Qui-Gon could not help but sense the quiet air of satisfaction Obi-Wan was emanating. "You're up to something, my former Padawan," Qui-Gon observed.

Obi-Wan nodded. "My family is coming to visit after we return from Cardova."

"Your family?" Qui-Gon wracked his brain for names. "Your father and brother. Cliegg and Owen, was it?"

"Mmm hmm." The satisfied air was back, with a hint of smugness. "Anakin and Shmi have already agreed that we should all spend some time together when they arrive."

Qui-Gon chuckled as the source of the young man's feelings became clear. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, are you playing matchmaker?"

Obi-Wan gave him a look in return that was all innocence, the surest sign that he was anything but. "Whatever happens is the will of the Force, Qui-Gon."

Qui-Gon's answering laugh was swallowed up by the sounds of the approaching transport, arriving at last.