Master Apprentice Archive Quick search:

Archive: MA, of course. Anyone else, please ask.

Category: Qui/Obi, AU, Slashy Tension, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, More than Mild Angst

Rating: R, for general ickiness.

Warnings: I managed to squick myself at one point. That's all the warning I can afford to give.

Spoilers: Nope. ...okay, okay. If you haven't seen the prequels... you're weird. You will also be confused. And all things considered, go watch the original trilogy as well.

Summary: Diverging Paths III brings them to Naboo… and other places.

Series order so far is:

Waking Dream

Cold

Bits and Pieces - Will be revamped eventually.

Diverging Paths

Diverging Paths II

Diverging Paths III <-- You are here.

Diverging Paths IV

Attainment

Attainment II

Feedback: Oh, yes yes yes yes yes. I am a feedback vacuum! I'll also take critiques. I fear them not!

Thanks to my teapot, for without its caffeine I never would have vibrated my way through 14 hours of writing.

Notes for the Reader: I spent three years unable to write a single word about this story. It just would NOT come, and I've felt horrible about that. Suddenly it all spat itself out in one weekend. But, unlike what I originally thought, this story shall not be the last. I'm already working on the next part.

Disclaimer: "Rob? That's a naughty word, we never rob! We just... sort of borrow."

"Borrow? Boy, are we in debt!"

Naboo Orbit: 5199, 11th Month, 3rd Day

The Radiant VII had managed to lift off safely, and Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan sigh in relief beside him. The ventilation shaft hadn't exactly been meant for someone of his size, but it was much preferable to the destroyer droids that had rolled out, armed to the teeth, when they had tried to enter the bridge. The Trade Federation had tried to kill them so many times already that Qui-Gon had lost count. I was wondering why you had the crew raise their shields as we left, he said to Obi-Wan with the Force. Qui-Gon knew his voice would carry too well in the shaft – not that he wasn't making enough noise trying not to bash his skull on the low ceiling.

I was rather hoping it would just be a frivolous use of energy, Obi-Wan replied grimly, and Qui-Gon had to agree. For something that should have been the most trivial of negotiations, this was turning into, as Micah would have called it, ‘a cluster-fuck of epic proportions.' As Obi-Wan had known it would be.

Anakin was tucked behind them, though somehow he'd managed to get his chin wedged into Qui-Gon's shoulder so that he could also see. The hangar bay they'd arrived in was below, but it was a vast change from two hours before. Droids were everywhere, all of them armed, and they were quickly being packed away into waiting armored transports.

Without a word needed, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan efficiently removed the vent cover, and one after another they dropped several meters onto the floor below. Anakin dropped after them, letting Qui-Gon catch him and place him down on the floor. They settled behind the cargo, stowed out of the way to make room for the droids. "It's an invasion army," Qui-Gon whispered, still unable to believe it.

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, unsurprised. "Someone is trying to force the signing of the treaty."

"Someone?" Anakin asked, looking up at Obi-Wan with troubled eyes. "If this is the Trade Federation's army, then they're the ones making the Queen sign it. Right?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Obi-Wan is right. The Trade Federation doesn't have the courage to do something like this on their own." He glanced at the empty transports that were arriving in the hangar, ready to be loaded with deactivated droids. "We've got to warn the Naboo, and contact Chancellor Vallorum. Stow away aboard separate transports. We'll meet back together on the surface."

Obi-Wan nodded, a funny smile on his face, and Qui-Gon had the disturbing feeling that he'd just said exactly what Obi-Wan expected him to. "Take Anakin with you. I have a feeling I'm going to get a rough ride on the way down."

"Then pick a different one," Qui-Gon said instantly. Obi-Wan glanced at him, surprised, and then laughed.

"Probably a good idea. Take him with you, anyway. You know how much I hate flying in zero-g."

"You just don't want him to see you throw up," Qui-Gon teased.

"No," Anakin shook his head, grinning widely. "He just doesn't want it to land on me. And really, I'm okay with that."

The ride down was actually not that bad, except for the part where Qui-Gon wound up in the woods, running with a herd of panicked, stampeding animals, with Anakin slung over one shoulder. Finally, he had a chance to put Anakin down, only for both of them to start running again as one of the Scout flyers saw them and pursued.

"Stay with me," he ordered Anakin. "Go where I go!"

"Master Qui-Gon, there's someone up there!" Anakin reported, just in time for Qui-Gon to realize that the someone, whatever it was, was not getting out of the line of fire. In fact, he was reasonably sure that the someone was about to wave happily at them. "Move!" he roared. He was met by confusion. He and Anakin glanced at each other, then both of them started yelling for the creature to get out of the way.

Then they were right on top of the creature, and Qui-Gon tackled it to the ground in a move that would have done the rough-and-tumble sports teams on Corellia proud. Anakin wound up on the ground next to him, arms over his head as the Scout patrol droid roared overheard, firing as it went.

Qui-Gon sprang up, leaving them both on the ground with the curt order to stay down, taking his lightsaber from his belt and igniting it in one smooth motion. The Scout went down with one reflected bolt, but no sooner was that done that another one approached – and with it, thankfully, Obi-Wan.

Duck, he said, and received a harried flicker of acknowledgement right before Obi-Wan complied, water flying off of him when he did so. The other Scout quickly joined its brethren in a smoking pile.

"What happened to you?" he asked, leaving the creature to babble at Anakin happily.

Obi-Wan pushed his hair back from his eyes, wringing water out of it. "Managed to pick an even worse transport than before," he said, smiling. "We all went for a swim when the transport malfunctioned." He touched his lightsaber, hanging in place at his side. "I think I used up a great deal of energy giving myself an escape route. It should recharge in a couple of hours."

Meantime, the babbling creature had reached Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's side, with Anakin amusingly following along behind it. "Yous'un saved me!" it – a he, Qui-Gon realized – said joyfully, throwing his long arms around Qui-Gon in a hug. "Thanken yous!"

"You're welcome," Qui-Gon replied, trying to be patient and ignoring the fact that he had nearly broken his collarbone saving the creature's life. "You should get out of here. More of those droids will be heading this way."

"More?" the creature looked horrified, raising his eyestalks in a panic. "More, did you spake?"

The creature turned out to be a Gungan who called himself Jar Jar Binks, and it didn't take him long – all of two seconds – to decide that if more of those droids were approaching, then he needed to get back to his city. He also decided that Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Anakin needed to come with him.

He didn't mention that going back to the city was going to get him instantly arrested, and Qui-Gon's estimation of Jar Jar Binks climbed a few notches from where it had been sitting near the bottom. Self-preservation did not seem to be the Gungan's strong suit, but he was loyal and full of good intentions. So it was that their group gained a member, a strange undersea vehicle, and a shortcut to Theed – fortunate, as their transports had dumped them on the opposite side of the planet.

Anakin piloted, and listened cheerfully as Jar Jar spoke willingly about how he'd managed to get himself banned from Otah Gunga in the first place, with other bits of useful information about the Gungan society thrown in. Qui-Gon sat in the back, with Obi-Wan leaning against him. Qui-Gon was encouraging it, because the moment Obi-Wan had come into close contact with him, he'd realized exactly how drained the younger man was. He ran his hands through Obi-Wan's hair in a way that was meant to be soothing. He would privately admit, however, that touching Obi-Wan in any way made him spectacularly happy.

What's wrong? he asked. Just a bad landing normally doesn't make you this tired.

Obi-Wan sighed, leaning closer. It's Jar Jar. I know him. He's...Hmm. It's funny. He seems far less annoying this time around than before.

Qui-Gon looked at the back of the back of Jar Jar's head, the Gungan's ears waving as expressively as his hands as he talked animatedly with Anakin. Jar Jar Binks was certainly going to be an acquired taste. But it's not just him, he hazarded a guess.

No. It's not. Obi-Wan shifted so that he could look up at Qui-Gon. It's happened before, but this past month we've run into so many people that I remember. I want to greet them as the friends they are, not as the strangers they know themselves to be. It's... it's hard. And here on Naboo, it's going to be even worse. Here there are people that I've known for years, not just a few days or weeks.

Qui-Gon nodded, trying and failing to put himself in Obi-Wan's place. He simply couldn't imagine living the same life twice. To know how events would unfold beforehand – how tempting would it be to simply grab someone's hand and tell them not to do what they were about to do – it would lead to their death? This is it, though – isn't it? This is the event you told the Council about?

So far, yes. Obi-Wan's eyes had gone a clear gray, a sign that he was very worried. But I couldn't just tell them what was going to happen. There is still a chance, as small as it now is, that I'm wrong.

Qui-Gon stared into his partner's clear gray eyes and shook his head. Obi-Wan, right or wrong, I'll still be here. Whatever happens, we'll see it through together.

On a whim, or maybe he was responding to the warmth that filled Obi-Wan's eyes at his words, he leaned forward, just once wanting to kiss the lips that were so maddeningly close.

Of course, that's when Jar Jar screamed bloody murder, and both he and Obi-Wan were nearly thrown into the seats in front of them. He recovered his seat, glancing over to find Obi-Wan staring up in bemusement as the sea monster – there was no other word for it – roaring at them. Qui-Gon reached forward and touched Jar Jar's shoulder, meaning to calm the frantically screaming Gungan. "Relax," he said, only wanting Anakin to be able to concentrate on his piloting. He drew back as the Gungan slumped in his seat, instantly unconscious. He tried not to show his surprise – never had such a mild Force suggestion caused such an extreme reaction.

"I think you overdid it," Obi-Wan said, smiling warmly at him. If he had any problems with the fact that his partner had just tried to kiss him, he was keeping them to himself. Qui-Gon himself, meanwhile, was silently cursing the Gungan, the worm, the ocean, and whatever else he could think of that could possibly have had a hand in current events.

Anakin piloted them neatly away from the very unhappy sea worm, backing out of the tunnel he'd tried to take. As they raced away from the burrow, another, bigger worm came along and had the first for dinner.

"There's always a bigger fish," Obi-Wan said softly, almost reflectively.

"You know, I think that's my line?" Qui-Gon replied, once again mildly disturbed – he had been thinking those exact words.

"I don't care which one of you was supposed to say what," Anakin replied distractedly. "Just tell me which way to go, because our Navigator isn't going to be much help any time soon."

Theed was gorgeous, even though it was crawling with the Trade Federation's droid army. Finding the Queen actually turned out to be easier than he expected – she and her retinue were being marched publicly down the street. He looked at Obi-Wan, who already had his lightsaber out. He knew the height would be fine for them, but their Padawan... "Anakin, are you okay with this drop?"

Anakin quickly glanced over the cement barrier of the street bridge, ducking back out of view in record time. "Yeah, it's not bad. If I have to, I'll roll. I'm sure you guys will have the droids dismembered before I even get a chance to worry about it, anyway."

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, who shrugged. "Don't worry, Padawan. I'm sure there will be plenty more where those come from."

Obi-Wan gave his lightsaber one last check. "Power cells have finished recharging. Let's go."

"If she's truly the Queen, I'm going to sit down and eat my boots," Qui-Gon muttered, collapsing onto the part of the bunk that Anakin wasn't already curled up on.

The boy glanced down at him, grinning broadly. "Good news, Master Qui-Gon. You won't have to eat them."

"Oh?" Qui-Gon looked up at Anakin, who looked far too mischievous for his own good. "And what is your opinion on the matter, Padawan Skywalker?"

Anakin shrugged. "Padmé. I mean, I guess I'm cheating a little bit. But if you watch her, and watch the woman dressed up as the queen, you can tell she's being just a bit more than an advisor."

Padmé. Qui-Gon knew that name. He hadn't heard it in four years, but he remembered it well enough. He sat up. "She's the Padmé that you remembered? From before?" he asked carefully.

"Yeah," Anakin put down the datapad he'd been using, finally giving Qui-Gon his full attention. "I never forgot her. I'm just... not sure how to talk to her again. I mean, some kid showing up and talking to her about things that she hasn't told about yet is going to be creepy, and I don't want to be creepy."

"Anakin, you are many things, but creepy is not one of them," Qui-Gon said reassuringly, ruffling the boy's hair. Anakin ducked away bashfully. "What else do you remember?"

He paused in the midst of reaching for his data pad again. "What do you mean?" he said carefully, trying to sound unconcerned. Qui-Gon nearly smiled – Obi-Wan had been right. Anakin was no diplomat, and never would be.

"I suppose I was just wondering if seeing Padmé again meant that you remembered anything else." Qui-Gon watched him carefully. "I'm not going to press you, Anakin. I was just concerned."

Anakin bit his lip, then looked up at Qui-Gon with his eyes filled with dread. "You won't tell Obi-Wan, will you? Please? I mean, I know I shouldn't keep anything from my Master, but you're my Master too, and as long as I tell one of you –" he tried to go on, his voice rising in a near-panic, until Qui-Gon shushed him gently.

"Easy, Ani. No, I won't tell him yet, as long as you tell me what's wrong. If it's something dangerous, I may have to tell him anyway." Qui-Gon gave the boy a hug, knowing instinctively that Anakin needed the contact. Sometimes physical reassurance was more important to the boy than any words. "But if it can wait, I will let you tell him when you feel the time is right."

"Okay – I mean, I think I'm okay with that." Anakin snuggled up next to him on the bunk, and Qui-Gon let his arm drape around the boy comfortingly. "It's just that I've been having a lot of dreams for the past couple of months. Most of them are okay, but there are some that... they're frightening. No, it's worse than that. Master Qui-Gon, they frighten the bejeezus out of me," he said, and Qui-Gon hugged him tighter when gooseflesh broke out on Anakin's arms. "There's someone doing horrible things to people, and sometimes I think I'm doing horrible things to people, too. Except that I'm not really me anymore. Then there are dreams where Padmé and I are married, and we've got kids, and all of us are living happily together near the lake, here on Naboo. Except that one's a lie. I always wake up crying from that one because I know it never happened."

Qui-Gon abruptly realized Anakin was crying, and patiently reached into his belt and fished out a wad of clean cloth. Normally it removed grease from his hands, but it could be used for a handkerchief as well. "Anakin, things will be all right. You know that none of that has to come true."

"I know, and I know that Obi-Wan knows that, too. But I also know that now is not a good time to tell Obi-wan any of this." Anakin looked up at him seriously. "Please don't say anything."

"Anakin, you'll have to tell him sometime. This is important," Qui-Gon said gently.

"After Naboo. After Naboo I'll tell him that I dance in the nude like a Killi bird if you want me to. Just don't make me say anything yet. He doesn't need that kind of ... of distraction."

Qui-Gon stared at the boy in front of him, feeling the currents of the Force swirl around them in upset. "Ani... what happens on this mission? What's wrong with it?"

Anakin shook his head. "I don't remember, Master Qui-Gon. Honestly, I don't. It has something to do with you, or him, or maybe even both of you. I know that it's bad, just not what."

On impulse, Qui-Gon drew Anakin into another embrace, crushing the boy against his chest. "I'll watch over him. You know I will."

Anakin wiggled his nose against Qui-Gon's tunics. "I know you will. And since I know you're wondering where he is, he's helping Padmé clean Artoo."

Qui-Gon grinned. "Yes, that was going to be my next question. Thank you, Anakin." He rose, shedding his cloak as he did so and handing it to Anakin, who accepted it eagerly. Four years of Coruscant or not, Anakin still managed to get cold on transports.

"You should have kissed him anyway, you know," Anakin mentioned casually as Qui-Gon palmed the door open.

Qui-Gon blinked, glancing back over his shoulder at Anakin. "Oh?" he said, trying to sound casual. His heart trying to pound its way out of his chest was anything but casual, but he could keep that little fact to himself.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm sorry I managed to pilot into the only inhabited burrow in the sea wall, but you shouldn't have let a little thing like a screaming Gungan keep you from that. It was important," Anakin finished, as if that was the final say on the matter.

Maybe it was. "I'll keep that in mind, young Padawan," Qui-Gon said, giving the boy a low, sweeping bow. Anakin giggled. "Finish all of your coursework for the week, and you can go show me all of your old haunts on Tatooine when we get there."

"Yes, Master Qui-Gon," Anakin said happily, picking up his datapad with an expression that said the coursework was going to be devoured in record time.

He'd meant his first words to be of greeting, or of Anakin. Instead, Qui-Gon found himself asking, "Why Tatooine?"

Obi-Wan was standing alone in the starship's small observation lounge, watching the stars go by at an appallingly slow pace. Having a broken hyperdrive was going to drive the rest of the crew nuts – it was at least three more days travel time to get to Tatooine. He turned to face Qui-Gon, and there were lines of stress there that had not existed a few hours ago. "The Force said it was the right way to go," he said simply.

"I get the feeling you aren't happy about that," Qui-Gon said, stepping closer.

Obi-Wan blew out a breath of frustrated air. "No. I suppose not. May I tell you about my first visit to Tatooine, Qui?"

Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan began to speak. There was a bitter thread in the tale, but it didn't seem to be directed anywhere in particular. He explained how they had arrived, and Obi-Wan had volunteered to stay with the ship. There were repairs that needed to be completed aside from the hyperdrive, and Obi-Wan seemed to be the only competent mechanic among the entire lot of escapees from Naboo. The hyperdrive motivator was the critical element, though, and it was what Qui-Gon, Jar Jar, R2-D2, and the handmaiden Padmé went into Mos Espa to retrieve.

"Padmé, the Queen," Qui-Gon said, amused.

Obi-Wan smiled for a moment. "I take it Anakin told you." When Qui-Gon nodded, he went on. "You discovered four things at once that day. That Toydarians are immune to Force suggestion, that they don't take Republic credits out here, that this Toydarian had the motivator we needed... and you found Anakin."

Qui-Gon felt his eyes go wide. "Force, Obi-Wan." It explained a lot about what was going on. This mission was different for more than just an invading droid army. "I take it the Toydarian in question is Watto. I can see what you mean now about his taking care of Shmi and Anakin – most slave owners don't hold onto their merchandise for that long."

Obi-Wan shrugged. "Among other things. You sent me a blood sample that night by transmission – your group wound up staying in the Skywalker home in the slave quarters. I ran it three times. Twenty three thousand. Sometimes I still have trouble believing that," he said. "You told me you had an idea for getting the parts. You didn't tell me," he continued, giving Qui-Gon a bemused smile, "that it involved betting on Anakin in a pod race."

Qui-Gon stared at him, agog. "I did what?"

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes dancing. "Oh, that's not all. Anakin did volunteer, mind you. But since it was his pod, and he was a slave, he needed a sponsor to enter the race. So you entered into a bargain with Watto. He would sponsor the boy, you would provide the ship – this ship – as collateral for the entry fee, and if he won, you would get the parts and the ship, and Watto would get the prize money."

"Force gods, I'm a manipulative bastard," Qui-Gon whispered, still not quite sure if Obi-Wan was truly being serious with him. "But Anakin was a child – I must have been–"

"Desperate," Obi-Wan finished for him. He was no longer laughing. "You were desperate. Not only did we need to get the Queen of Naboo to Coruscant before the Trade Federation stripped the planet bare of people and resources, you had a boy in front of you who should have been with the Jedi from birth. As it was, he was a self-trained Force using child with enough power to shut down a sun if he thought about it hard enough."

"I take it Anakin won the pod race," he replied faintly, still reeling with the thought. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan thought he wasn't quite the same person at this point in time that Obi-Wan remembered from his vision, but this... "I don't care how desperate I was. I could have gotten him killed."

Obi-Wan's eyes softened. "If it's any consolation, Anakin had been in four previous races, and had survived them all. He didn't finish any of them, either, but that didn't diminish his enthusiasm for the sport."

"It's not much of a consolation, no," Qui-Gon said, shocked by what Obi-Wan had just told him. How much had Obi-Wan changed him, because he himself was so changed? He had to know, even though he was afraid to know. "Obi-Wan... what have you changed? In these last four years, what have you changed?"

"Anakin. You were with me for that. And then, Micah. Mic was originally supposed to die last year. You already know what happened to stop that."

"You," Qui-Gon said, reaching up to touch Obi-Wan's left shoulder, where the scar began – the one he had earned by saving Micah Giett's life. "Though when it looked as if both of you were going to die, that wasn't exactly a bright spot."

"No. I guess not." Obi-Wan stared back at him, hands loose at his sides. Waiting.

"What else?" he asked.

"I haven't changed anything else."

"You..." he stopped, as he realized he didn't know what to say. "Nothing?"

"Nothing." Obi-Wan shrugged slightly, the barest hint of movement under Qui-Gon's hand. He realized then what he had done, and let his hand fall to back to his side. "It sounds strange, I suppose. I thought there was going to be something else, and then it never happened. It hinges on choices that others made, and had little to do with me."

Qui-Gon looked into his partner's eyes, and knew that Obi-Wan was being honest with him, even though there was much that he was not speaking of. "Will you tell me what happened, then? Could it hurt to tell me things that are now in the past for both of us?" When he saw Obi-Wan hesitate, he said, "Please. I... when once you said I was different, I didn't take you seriously. I see now that you were being truthful. I need to know what happened, that I could become a man that would send a child to do a task that would be dangerous even for a Jedi Master."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, as if in pain. "I will tell you. You will not like it."

Qui-Gon listened as Obi-Wan told him first of Micah's death, and then, a year later, of Tahl's, and some of the things that came after. When he was finished, Qui-Gon thanked him, briefly, and walked, wooden-legged, from the room. He did not know that Obi-Wan watched him go, his eyes full of regret.

He spent much of the next three days in meditation, but even that was difficult. Aside from needing to speak with the Naboo, to learn as much as he could that might be helpful, there were his own feelings to deal with. He wanted to rail, to scream – anything but sit down and try to be rational. It didn't feel rational, to be told about things he had done that had never happened. There had never been anything rational about the life Obi-Wan had lived in his dreams – and Qui-Gon now firmly believed that they weren't dreams or visions at all. Somehow the Force had granted Obi-Wan two lives, and Qui-Gon was the one who was having the most trouble dealing with it, even after four years.

Qui-Gon was finally able to admit, after long hours, that the source of his frustration was himself. The decisions that Obi-Wan told him he had made, the darkness that he had nearly fallen into after Tahl had been murdered in this other-when – he could see himself following that path. He had nearly followed it after Xanatos had tried to kill him. Losing people he loved had always had a significant effect on him, and he was honest enough to admit it was because he did not let people into his heart easily. He had few close friends, and there had been ever fewer lovers.

The anger that he had turned on Obi-Wan, even if it had not been his own, bothered him most of all. There had been guilt he had felt from his partner as Obi-Wan had spoken of Tahl's death, and it was something that the other Qui-Gon had either ignored... or... encouraged?

That thought disturbed him greatly.

Enough, he thought to himself. There were only a few more hours until they landed on Tatooine, and he wanted to check out the hyperdrive before they landed. Who knew – maybe they would get lucky, and it would be a different part they would need. Something infinitely more replaceable than a motivator for a Nubian J-27 would be a blessing from the Force right now.

He was dimly aware that Obi-Wan and Anakin were working the crew, though it wasn't in line with most political tactics. The Jedi way was about making friends first, allies later.

Anakin, he knew from occasionally checking on the bond, had finally gotten up the courage to talk to Padmé, and was currently speaking with her quite seriously about the Senate. She didn't seem to have been too annoyed with Anakin for guessing that the other girl, Sabé, was acting as a decoy. In fact, she seemed delighted with Anakin in general. When she was busy with other matters, he went into the cockpit and convinced Ric, their pilot, to teach him everything he possibly could about flying the ship. Ric had rather enthusiastically adopted the Padawan. The other pilots, when they realized Anakin was already an excellent pilot himself, practically turned the boy into their mascot.

Obi-Wan had held his own conversations with Padmé, along with most of the rest of the crew. Slowly they were coming to enjoy the company of the Jedi, and not just because the three of them had saved their lives. Panaka was still standoff-ish, but that was his job, and none of them were insulted by the man's attitude. They could certainly do worse than to have around a skilled martial artist who was genuinely concerned about the welfare of those under his charge.

He should have been surprised that Obi-Wan was already up to his elbows in hyperdrive components, but truly he wasn't. They did tend to consider the same problems at similar times. They had barely spoken in three days, but for now, that didn't matter. Instead of saying anything, Qui-Gon simply joined him in tearing the infernal machine apart.

It didn't take either of them long to realize that the problem really did lie with the hyperdrive motivator. Qui-Gon wasn't really surprised by that, either.

Obi-Wan put his elbows on top of the hyperdrive, resting his head in his hands. It made him look astonishingly young, despite the lines of stress on his face and the knowledge that hid behind his eyes. "I'm sorry," Qui-Gon said awkwardly, finding that he didn't know what else to say.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "Don't apologize, Qui. You have done nothing wrong."

Qui-Gon hesitated. "I don't know if that's true. Some part of me did you wrong, some when, and I'm the only version of me here that can say anything to you."

Obi-Wan straightened, though the hyperdrive casing was still between them. "I accept your apology, Qui-Gon Jinn, for the meaning you wish it to convey," he said formally. Then he smiled at him. "You aren't ever going to let it go, otherwise."

Qui-Gon smiled back. "No, I wouldn't have. I've done a lot of thinking, Obi-Wan. And, ultimately, I find that for now, I only have one question."

Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"What happens next?"

Obi-Wan grinned. "We go to Tatooine, bargain for the hyperdrive motivator with the Cho-Mar I told the Council we would be able to use more effectively than Republic credits, and get the hell out of there as soon as we possibly can."

"And roasting. Don't forget roasting," Qui-Gon added, thinking with dread about the twin suns. "Do you really think what we need for this ship is on that planet?"

"Whatever it is we need, it's down there. The only way to find out for sure is to go look."

They both stared at each other, the moment seeming to spread out between them. Qui-Gon slowly realized that they were both waiting. While he was fairly certain of what he was waiting for, sometimes Obi-Wan was more difficult to read than any Jedi alive. He had almost made up his mind to do something about it, and to hell with the consequences, when he was interrupted. Again.

Panaka popped in the doorway to the engine room, and even he must have noticed something amiss. He looked at both of them consideringly, as if weighing their intent. He must have been satisfied by what he saw, because he nodded brusquely. "We'll be landing in one hour. If either of you knows a good place to park on this rock, Ric would be glad to hear it."

Obi-Wan nodded at the Captain. "Yes. There are several cities down there, even though it looks... inhospitable." Panaka gave Obi-Wan a dirty look, which he politely pretended not to notice.

Watto seemed genuinely glad to see them – or at least he seemed genuinely glad to see Anakin. "Ani, my boy!" he exclaimed, his wings flapping furiously to keep him aloft. "It's so good to see you!" He even gave the startled Padawan a hug, which Anakin returned in bewilderment. "How have you been?"

"Uhm. Fine, Watto. It's nice to see you again," Anakin managed to pull himself together enough to reply. "The shop is doing great."

"Yeah, yeah! So it is," Watto said proudly. Then he saw that Anakin had company, and his smile was immediately replaced by a thunderous frown.

"Greetings, Watto. The years have been kind," Obi-Wan said, giving the Toydarian a short bow. Qui-Gon, bemused, followed suit.

"And you!" Watto pointed a bony finger at them. "If you came looking for more slaves to buy, I'm fresh out! Go bother someone else!"

"You know this... creature?" Padmé said, managing at the last moment to provide a word more diplomatic than whatever she may have been thinking. Qui-Gon was not surprised that she had come with them – she had managed to do so once before – but he was surprised that it had been Obi-Wan to present her with the offer. She had quickly accepted. Panaka had gritted his teeth at the thought of being left behind, but had kept silent, merely handing the girl a blaster which she had immediately tucked out of sight inside her clothing. "And you ... made a purchase?"

"Of course they did," Anakin said quickly, dismissing her concerns with a very simple reply. "Where do you think Watto knows me from?"

"You were a slave?!"

While Padmé processed that bit of information, her eyes wide, Qui-Gon quickly caught Watto's attention again. "We are here to make a regular transaction, I assure you," he said. "We're looking for parts for our ship, and believe you may be able to help us." He brought out a mini-holoprojector, turning it on and letting Watto get a good look at the Queen's transport. "Our droid has a full list of what we need, but our primary concern is a hyperdrive motivator."

Watto scratched at his chin. "Nubian... Nubian... I think I've got some of the things you need, but my hyperdrive motivator might not work for you."

Obi-Wan looked up in interest. "Oh? Something Anakin could fix?"

Watto cackled. "Maybe. I see you Jedi make use of the boy's natural talent as well. He's a good kid, Ani is! But this, I don't even know if he can fix. Let me show it to you."

They followed the Toydarian out into his scrap yard, with R2-D2 unhappily beeping behind them. Obi-Wan said that the droid was unhappy about the sand. Qui-Gon couldn't blame him.

When Watto showed them the motivator, Qui-Gon wanted to curse. Even to his senses, it felt useless.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan beckoned for their Padawan to come closer. "What do you think?"

Anakin looked at it, then slowly shook his head. "It's... I don't know what happened to it. It looked like someone tried to blow it up while it was being used. It won't do us any good. I can't fix something that's missing most of what makes it work."

Padmé looked worried, and rightly so. "What are our other options, then? We can't get back to Coruscant without a hyperdrive."

"And there are no planets closer that wouldn't turn you over to the Trade Federation," Qui-Gon added. He didn't mention that they didn't have the rations to make another long-distance trip, anyway. Padmé was more than likely well-aware of the direness of their situation.

Padmé glared at him, and Qui-Gon quickly realized that he had inadvertently told her that he knew who she was, too. She looked at them all, her eyes narrowed. "I suppose you know, too?" she asked Obi-Wan. He smiled slightly, dipping his head in acknowledgement, and she sighed. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I'm surrounded by Jedi, after all."

"Don't feel too discouraged, your Highness," Obi-Wan said softly. "Sabé does an excellent job. Not even Sio Bibble knew the difference, and he works with you every day."

Padmé nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. I have to admit, I'm surprised you asked me to come along, then, knowing who I was."

"You either would have had Panaka order us into it, or followed along on your own. This seemed much safer," Obi-Wan grinned.

Padmé grinned back. "I suppose it does. But it still doesn't get us anywhere. What are we going to do, honestly?"

Anakin tilted his head consideringly. "We can at least buy the other parts we need from Watto. I've already looked around, and he's got everything except the motivator. If I go back to the ship with the parts, I can make it all work. Whether it wants to or not," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Padmé leaned over and planted a quick kiss on the boy's cheek, making Anakin light up like a bonfire. "You're willing to go back to the ship so soon, after everything you told me about this place?"

"It may be my home, but it'll still be here. I can always come back," Anakin replied seriously. "You're my first priority."

They stared at each other, smiling, and suddenly Qui-Gon realized what he should have noticed from the start. Force, the bond between them... do they know what that means?

Obi-Wan touched his hand. One day they will. For now, they are children with more than a bit of a crush on each other. Everything else will come as it may.

"I might... be able to tell you where another motivator is," Watto said from behind them. They all turned to see the Toydarian rubbing his hands together, looking nervous. "But if I tell you, you promise me you won't take those two with you," he said, motioning to Padmé and Anakin. "It's no place for children. It's no place for anyone! But you sound like this thing is really important..."

Obi-Wan stared hard at Watto, and Qui-Gon felt him reaching out with the Force, testing the currents that flowed so turbulently about. "I promise they will not go," he said quietly. "Anakin, promise me that you will not follow."

Anakin looked up at him, concerned and confused. "But I..."

"Please, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, glancing down at him firmly. "You know that I would not ask you to stay behind unless it was truly necessary."

Anakin swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes. I know that, Master. I promise I won't follow."

"Padmé?"

Padmé stared at Obi-Wan carefully. Before, Qui-Gon knew, she would only have seen the side of Obi-Wan that he used in public. He bantered with people. He wasn't afraid to get dirty when there was building to be done, or when it was time to tear something down. He was as open with non-Jedi as he could be, and he tended to not use the Force around them unless they said or demonstrated that it didn't bother them – and it bothered many. Now she was seeing the Jedi, and the Force was collecting in enough strength that even someone who was Force-blind would have known something was about to happen.

"I promise," she said finally. "And if what Watto says is true, I wish that you did not have to go. But my people come first, and I must ask you to get what we need."

Obi-Wan nodded at her. "You must do your duty, and we must do ours."

On impulse, she stepped forward and gave him a swift hug. "Take care of yourselves. Please. I want no blood on my hands." She embraced Qui-Gon just as swiftly, and he found himself liking the young Queen even more.

He didn't realize it at the time, but the Queen of Naboo had just proclaimed herself their ally for life.

Obi-Wan looked down at Jabba's Palace from the seat of their rented speeder. "Ugh," he muttered. "It's worse than I remember."

"I have to admit, the aura of that place is unpleasant," Qui-Gon agreed, enjoying the feel of Obi-Wan's warmth against his back. Only a speeder-bike had been available, but Qui-Gon had not been willing to complain. He had thought, though, that Obi-Wan would pilot, and was surprised when Obi-Wan insisted that he fly. ‘Just in case,' Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon understood immediately what he meant. If something happened to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon needed to be able to find the way back. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, would know his way back blindfolded. "How should we handle this?"

Obi-Wan pointed at a road, nearly hidden, that led down from the cliff and onto the plateau of Jabba's Palace. "We go up to the door, knock, and announce that we have business with Jabba the Hutt. Then we go in and hope he's in the mood to be reasonable."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I don't like that idea. Why don't we just steal it?"

Obi-Wan laughed softly. "While normally it would amuse me to hear you suggest something like that, it's actually a bad idea in this case. Jabba's palace is a maze, and it's always full of people. We could be in there for days looking for the damned thing."

Qui-Gon sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"Qui, everything associated with Jabba is bad."

They did knock, and the response was an answer-droid that had been built into the large metal door. It blatted at them rudely in Huttese. Obi-Wan spoke to it in Huttese in return, stating their purpose.

The door opened almost immediately, and a male Twi'lek beckoned them inside. He told them his name was Bib Fortuna. For such a young Twi'lek, he was extremely overweight, and his skin was showing signs of jaundice. "Normally, we would send the Gamoreans," he confided to them in a soft voice, leading them through the darkness of the palace with familiarity. "But two Jedi! This is a prestigious honor. The Great Jabba will be happy to see you immediately, though he is curious as to why a Jedi would come to see him."

"It's a business transaction," Obi-Wan replied smoothly in Huttese. Qui-Gon was content to let him – he could understand the language perfectly, but had never been able to speak it beyond basic words and phrases. "Only that, and nothing more."

Bib Fortuna glanced sidelong at them. "So you say. You are not the first Jedi to be here in the last two years. One called Ki Adi Mundi came to see the Great Jabba. His visit did not go pleasantly. I hope that yours will be much more... well-mannered."

"But of course," Obi-Wan replied. "As long as the great Jabba is willing to be reasonable, we will be reasonable as well."

Bib Fortuna didn't seem to like that response, but he decided not to argue. He simply led them into the throne room, leaving them to stand in the center of the room while he went to stand by his master's side.

Jabba the Hutt was corpulent, like most Hutts, but for his relatively young age, he was immense. Size in the Hutt world was a sign of stature, and the one lounging before them had certainly used that to his advantage. He, along with two other worms, controlled the entirety of Huttese operations throughout the galaxy.

Don't stand on that part of the floor, Obi-Wan's voice said in his mind, and Qui-Gon noticed the metal inlays that decorated the floor just in front of them. It's a trap door. He thinks it's funny to send visitors through it, usually to become dinner of whatever creature he has caged up beneath us.

That's vile, Qui-Gon replied, actually stunned. While Hutts were known to be less than ethical, he was rapidly beginning to see why Watto had insisted that Padmé and Anakin stay well away from here. ‘He likes young girls, pretty girls,' Watto had said. ‘Especially bipedal ones. The other Hutts think he's degenerate, especially when they discovered that sometimes he likes pretty young boys as well.'

There were several humanoid girls in the Hutt's entourage, all of them wearing only the barest of clothing. Some of them even looked happy to be there, and were lounging on various bits of furniture, or directly on the dais itself. Only one, who sported a metal collar attached to a silver chain, was afraid. She was seated at Jabba's feet – figuratively - curled in upon herself, trying valiantly to hide behind her long black hair. Qui-Gon could see her eyes through that thick curtain, and they were bright with fear.

"Greetings, Jabba. I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. This is my companion, Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn." Obi-Wan introduced them quickly, his eyes flickering quickly around the room as he catalogued the placement of each person. Everything in this room was armed, and it screamed danger. Qui-Gon was doing the same. If he needed to go for his lightsaber, he wasn't sure there would be enough time.

The silver chain was held by one of Jabba's large hands, and was wrapped around it several times. He kept tugging on the chain as he greeted them. The girl suffered this in silence, probably well used to it. "Greetings, Jedi. I am honored by your visit. What can I, a humble merchant, do for you?"

If Obi-Wan was bothered by the Hutt's false words, he didn't let it show. Qui-Gon could have cheered, especially when he himself was utterly disgusted. "We have been told by those dwelling in Mos Espa that you are the only being on Tatooine that possesses a hyperdrive motivator that our ship could use. We wish to purchase it in a simple business transaction. The profit would be great, and an honorable increase to your present wealth."

"Hmmm," the Hutt rumbled, looking at them with deceptively dull eyes. "A hyperdrive motivator. I have many of those, young Jedi. If you can tell me exactly what kind of ship you have, I can help you."

Obi-Wan smiled, except his smile was predatory. Qui-Gon felt his hair stand on end. He didn't think he ever wanted that smile directed at him. "If I told you that, great Jabba, you would be far too interested in the ship itself. That information is not for sale. But I can tell you that the model number your employees would be looking for is jay tee six, nine seven four. It is Nubian in origin, but the Stalthos class of the same model number would do nicely as well."

Bib Fortuna leaned close to the Hutt's mouth, listening as the great hulk rumbled softly under his breath. Bib nodded, quickly disappearing into the darkness. "You are quite knowledgeable, young one," Jabba said, eyeing Obi-Wan with obvious interest. "I could use one of your talents."

"He's not for sale, either," Qui-Gon said, congratulating himself for managing to reply in Huttese without tripping over his own tongue. The thought of Jabba using Obi-Wan, as he was obviously using the girl, was more than enough to anger him. He wanted desperately to step forward and snap the collar that encircled her neck, just as he knew it would get them all killed.

"A pity," was Jabba's only response. "He is quite pretty."

"Thank you, Jabba," Obi-Wan surprised Qui-Gon by saying. "It is kind of you to say so."

Jabba laughed, loud and booming in the small room. "And he is so well-mannered! Master Jedi, whoever winds up holding the leash of this young one will be fortunate indeed."

"Indeed he will," Qui-Gon replied, and Obi-Wan glanced at him sharply. Relax, he said. I know that if I try to get any more complicated than that, I'm going to get us into trouble.

That's not what I – never mind, Obi-Wan terminated that line of conversation with a tight shrug. Bib Fortuna had returned, and was being followed by a Gamorrean pulling a hoversled. The hyperdrive motivator was sitting on it, and even Qui-Gon could tell it would run in the ship – it would probably run for decades. "What kind of monetary compensation would the great Jabba like for this transaction?" Obi-Wan asked.

Jabba regarded them silently for a moment. Then, in Basic, he said, "I desire only five thousand credits. Cho Mar is acceptable, if you have it. Republic is not. But that is not my only condition."

Obi-Wan winced, just slightly, though Qui-Gon was certain he wasn't the only one who noticed. "What is the other condition?"

The Hutt licked his lips, leaving a trail of slime behind. That explains the dullness of his eyes, Qui-Gon realized. One of a Hutts' primary reactions to spice use was that their saliva thickened to the consistency of snot. "My other compensation... is a kiss. From you."

The only thing that kept Qui-Gon from stepping forward and telling the Hutt to go to hell was the realization that this was it. Without the motivator, they went nowhere, and the Naboo suffered. Probably the two of them as well, since Jabba would probably do his best to have them killed.

Obi-Wan's shoulders stiffened. "You ask for something very personal, Jabba."

"But that is my condition, Jedi Kenobi," the Hutt replied, with another chuckle. "Will you pay me?"

"The great Jabba knows full well that if it is a motivator we wish to purchase, that we have little choice in the matter," Obi-Wan replied quietly. "You know full well that I'll pay you, you bastard."

Jabba only laughed harder. "And I will enjoy every second of it, Jedi."

Obi-Wan stepped forward, stopped by Qui-Gon's hand on his arm. "You don't have to do this," he whispered quietly, knowing that Jabba's entire entourage was watching them. "We'll find another way."

Obi-Wan looked at him, and managed a smile. "You and I both know that there is no other way. Just be ready to ask your favor," he said, and stepped forward again. Qui-Gon watched him go, horrified and amused at once. Obi-Wan already knew he was going to ask to buy the girl. There was no one in the galaxy who knew him better.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. It was like watching a speeder wreck in the skies above Coruscant – you were utterly horrified, but there was nothing you could do but watch events unfold. The Hutt ensnared Obi-Wan around the waist with one hand – the hand not holding the chain – and pulled him in close. "I will remember this for a long time, pretty Jedi," Jabba said, breathing heavily.

"I don't think I'm ever going to forget it," Obi-Wan replied bluntly, not bothering to hide his distaste, and then laid a very gentle, lingering kiss on the Hutt's mouth. Qui-Gon felt him bring the Force to bear, and knew that the Hutt was suddenly getting more than his money's worth. There were things you could do with a Force touch that made others pale by comparison.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, holding completely still while the Hutt brushed his tongue over Obi-Wan's face in contentment. "Well worth the price," the Hutt said in satisfaction, his eyes glazed. "The part is yours, Jedi. I hope one day we will conduct business again."

Obi-Wan backed away, quickly yet gracefully. The Hutt's entourage was yelling now, catcalling and hooting and enjoying the show that they had been presented with. The sled was brought over by the Gamorrean who had hauled it into the room, and he grunted at them in curiosity before leaving the sled controls in Qui-Gon's hands. Still trying to force what he had just seen out of his head, Qui-Gon took a step forward, careful to avoid the trap door that Obi-Wan had warned him of.

"Great Jabba, it is unexpected, but I have one more transaction to ask of you." Qui-Gon said, hoping that addressing the Hutt in Basic wasn't going to anger him at this point.

Jabba waved one hand expressively. "You have provided me with entertainment, more than I expected from this day. Make your request, Master Jedi."

I'd happily kill you for what you just did, Qui-Gon thought. "The girl, the one who sits at your feet, whose chain you hold. It seems you are fond of her, but I know of others who would be just as fond. Would you consider parting with her?"

Jabba opened his eyes wider. "She is dear to me, yes, Qui-Gon Jinn. But money, that is sometimes dearer. I have used her well, and I fear she no longer welcomes my touch. For fifteen thousand Cho-Mar, I would give you her chain."

"If she has been used, and fears you, then fifteen may be too much," Obi-Wan said, stepping up next to Qui-Gon. "We will offer you eleven."

Jabba narrowed his eyes. "Thirteen. That is my final offer, or I will keep her for myself."

"You strike a hard bargain, mighty Jabba." Qui-Gon inclined his head. "But for thirteen thousand Cho-Mar credits, you have a deal." It was the last of their money, but for this Qui-Gon would take on the Council's accusations of frivolous expenses.

Jabba laughed. "Yes, today has certainly been interesting. You may go, with my blessings, Jedi. She will treat you well, or she will regret it. Won't she?" Jabba said, giving the girl's chain another fierce yank. She made a desperate noise, and Jabba pulled again, hard. There was a sharp crack, audible even amidst the huge noise the crowd around them made, and she fell back bonelessly on the dais.

"No!" Qui-Gon yelled, stepping forward, only to be yanked back by Obi-Wan. "The door, dammit!" Obi-Wan yelled, and the trap door fell open, just as Qui-Gon would have stepped on it with his full weight.

Jabba laughed, and this time it was a dark laugh. "Jedi. So very entertaining. So very easy to make them fall prey to their own whims. Do you still want her, Master Jedi? She would be pliant, I assure you."

Qui-Gon hand his hand on his lightsaber, but it was Obi-Wan who acted. He held out one hand, palm flat out. Then, slowly, he began bring his fingers forward. The dais yanked itself forward, and Jabba's eyes went wide. "What is this?" he yelled in Huttese.

"I know that you're immune to Force suggestion, Jabba," Obi-Wan said, his voice deathly quiet. "But you're not immune to the Force itself." The dais slowly rose into the air, and several of Jabba's closest companions jumped off as it floated. Jabba himself was trapped, though – for a Hutt to fall, even such a short distance, it could be lethal.

"Put me down, Jedi, or you will pay for this!" he roared, and Qui-Gon could hear the click of several blaster rifles being brought to bear.

"No. We are going to walk out of here with what we came here for, and you are going to let us. Because I can guarantee," Obi-Wan's voice dropped a syllable, and Qui-Gon felt chilled. "I can drop the dais before you can give the order to fire."

Jabba fell silent. "Very well, Jedi. It seems I have misjudged you. But you should pray to your Force that we never meet again."

"The feeling is mutual," Obi-Wan said. "Tell them to let us pass. When we leave your palace, I promise that you will come to no harm."

"Let them pass!" Jabba yelled immediately. "Let them leave this place, or I'll feed you all to the Sarlaac!"

Whatever the Sarlaac was, it was apparently more frightening than Jabba. The weapons that were trained on them suddenly vanished. Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan's arm with one hand, and operated the controls for the sled with the other. The sooner that they left, the better.

No one bothered them in the dark hallways, and they weren't followed. When the metal door closed with a muted bang behind them, it still wasn't enough. Qui-Gon kept dragging Obi-Wan to where they had left the speeder, making short work of attaching the hoversled to the back of the bike. Obi-Wan climbed on behind him willingly, saying nothing, and Qui-Gon floored the accelerator.

They were several kilometers away, in the shade of the cliffs, when Obi-Wan finally spoke. "Qui. Qui, stop."

He brought the bike to a stop, stepping off, belatedly reaching out to catch Obi-Wan when the younger man tried to get off and fell. Immediately he began to retch, and Qui-Gon could only hold him through the spasms. "What's wrong?"

"Did... did you know that spice concentrates itself... in Hutt saliva?" Obi-Wan asked lightly, just in time to retch again.

"Force," Qui-Gon said, unable to think of anything else. "Gods, Obi-Wan. You shouldn't be hitting withdrawal so soon—"

When Obi-Wan could breathe again, he nodded. "I'm forcing it out of my system. Unless you want to be the one to explain to Padmé and Anakin how I managed to get loaded up on spice. ‘I'm sorry, but Obi-Wan had to kiss a Hutt. Literally.'"

Qui-Gon couldn't help it; he burst out laughing. "Obi-Wan, that's so.. so..."

"Funny?" Obi-Wan suggested, just before his body convulsed. "Oh, my. Shakes and convulsions. We've done this before, boys and girls. Though I suppose that there are just boys here." Obi-Wan rubbed his face with sand, a simple but effective way to clean up. "Hells. Qui, this isn't going to be pleasant." He paused, reflectively. "Though thank all of the little Force gods, at least I can't taste the bastard anymore."

Qui-Gon agreed; that had to be a blessing. He pulled Obi-Wan up with him, though Obi-Wan's teeth were already starting to chatter. He was right – this was going to be bad. Spice was instantly addictive, and withdrawal was hell on the body. "Can you hold on long enough for us to get back to Mos Espa? We can't stay out here all night – we're going to need a ready source of water. If you dehydrate out here, it's going to cause problems."

Obi-Wan nodded, his eyes flashing with forced good cheer. "I'll make it. If I don't, just tie me to the damned speeder. It'll be like having a really expensive hood ornament."

Qui-Gon chuckled again. "Stop that. Stop trying to make me laugh."

"So who's trying?" Obi-Wan said, stepping willingly forward when Qui-Gon opened his arms. "Just get me out of here, Qui."

Qui-Gon nodded, holding his partner tightly. "I will. I promise."

They barely made it to Mos Espa, and Qui-Gon was afraid that he really would have to tie Obi-Wan to the speeder. He was able to hold on, barely, and was content to let Qui-Gon find a place to hole up. The slave quarters were probably the safest place in Mos Espa, and the old woman who offered them a bed and access to water was once a friend of Shmi and Anakin. Jira waved away their offer of payment, but showed them to a cool, comfortable room with a soft pad on the floor that was wide enough to hold them both, if they kept close.

She brought them another blanket when Qui-Gon asked. "It's from my own bed," she said, shaking her head gently when Qui-Gon would have refused it. "If my eyes don't deceive me, you're going to need it," she gestured at Obi-Wan. "Seems like you picked up one bad batch of spice, lad."

"Not intentionally, I assure you," Obi-Wan said, grinning, but his face was full of pain. "Not ever. I value my liver too much, my Lady."

"Don't call me a Lady, for I've never been one," she replied, smiling toothlessly at him. "The shakes are the worst, unless you're allergic. And I'd say you're allergic, the way you're sweating."

Obi-Wan nodded, and Qui-Gon wanted to groan in frustration. He'd thought Obi-Wan seemed ... well, loopy. "You're right. I am. It's not a bad allergy, at least. I hope my companion will forgive me, but I'm going to keep him awake tonight."

"I'll leave you to it, then," she said. "Don't stint on the water – there's plenty in the cistern. If you get dehydrated, it'll be worse." She disappeared into her own room.

Obi-Wan stepped slowly across the sleeping pad, sitting down carefully. He reached down to unbuckle his boots, but his hands shook so badly he missed twice. Qui-Gon gently knocked his hands aside and removed his boots for him. Then, despite Obi-Wan faintly protesting, removed his belt, obi, and peeled off the tabards and overtunic together. "Shirt stays on?" Qui-Gon asked. Obi-Wan had spoken like he had experienced this before. Obi-Wan nodded slowly, gritting his teeth as he breathed through another muscle spasm. "Then we'll keep you as warm as we can. Come on, then," Qui-Gon said, trying to sound cheerful. "Water first, and then you lay down."

Obi-Wan nodded again. "You're going to have to help me," he whispered. "I think at this point, I'd just bathe myself with it."

Qui-Gon stood up. "I can do that." He filled a cup with water from the cistern, taking a moment to slake his own thirst. Jedi or not, a day out in the desert was harsh on the body. Filling the cup again, he brought it to Obi-Wan, letting them both hold it. He felt Obi-Wan's body try to betray him, and held him through the spasm. When the cup was empty, he set it aside. There would be time for more, later.

"I'm sorry about the girl, Qui," Obi-Wan said quietly, meeting his eyes despite the tremors that were beginning to shake him. "If I had know what he was going to do..."

"Don't," Qui-Gon said, drawing the younger man into his arms. "Don't. Neither of us realized what he intended. It's no one's fault."

He curled up around Obi-Wan on the bed, who sighed and breathed as deeply as he could before another muscle spasm seized him so harshly that he cried out. Qui-Gon held on, pinning Obi-Wan's arms to his sides, knowing that spice withdrawal patients could break bones if left to detox on their own. "What can I do?" he asked, when the spasm left Obi-Wan gasping.

"Just hold me," Obi-Wan whispered, his voice exhausted. "I... just hold me. I... -- AAHHH!" he screamed, in shock and pain, as his body suddenly tried to fold itself over. Qui-Gon held on, grimly, knowing it was only going to get worse. "Tell me about the first time you had to do this," he said, as Obi-Wan went limp in his arms.

"First time... think..." he hesitated, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "Corellia. There was .. an arms deal." He winced when another spasm hit, though fortunately it wasn't as bad as the last. "Me. Depa. Anakin. It was CorSec. Someone diverting weapons collected for evidence. We thought... thought that was all there was to it." Again, he screamed, another spasm ripping through him so badly that one of his arms came loose. There was blinding pain as Obi-Wan hit him in the temple, and Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, grabbed the offending limb, and pinned it against Obi-Wan's side.

"Sorry, Qui... Master. Sorry," Obi-Wan gasped out.

"Shhh. Shh, don't worry about it," Qui-Gon soothed him, taking stock of the injury. It would bruise, but it wouldn't hinder. "Just tell me what happened on Corellia."

"Corellia," Obi-Wan repeated muzzily. "Which time? There were several times on Corellia. I think one of them involved heavy drinking. Lots of drinking. Oodles of drinking."

Qui-Gon hid a smile in Obi-Wan's hair. "The arms deal. You, Depa, and Anakin."

"Oh. Right, that one. We thought diverted arms were the entirety of the problem. We were wrong. They had partnered... with, well, Jabba, I think," Obi-Wan blinked consideringly. "There was spice involved. We discovered it when I fell off of a catwalk in a factory. Middle of a firefight sort of deal. There were crates below me that broke when I fell on them, and spice went everywhere. I mean there was tons of the stuff." He shuddered in Qui-Gon's arms, but it seemed the spice withdrawal was heading into the next stage. When Obi-Wan said he was forcing the spice from his system, he apparently had meant it. "It was in my sinuses, in my eyes, down my throat. I was choking on it. I've never felt so bloody intense in my life. I would have given anything to come down off of that high. I could concentrate, but I couldn't think." He sighed. "Thank the Force that Anakin was there, because Depa and I didn't have any idea how to handle it. He'd been a slave on Tatooine for nine years. He'd seen it before. Forced me to swallow half of a bottle of Corellian brandy... I think I was appalled. But it worked – I came down enough to be able to think. And my first thought was to complain about a perfectly good waste of brandy."

"Doesn't seem like a waste to me," Qui-Gon said.

"In retrospect, no," Obi-Wan said, and in the blink of an eye he was screaming in agony, the worst of the muscle seizures tearing through his body in a never-ending wave. Obi-Wan's body bucked uncontrollably in Qui-Gon's arms, his head coming up and driving itself into Qui-Gon's chin.

He nearly blacked out from the pain, and came to when one of Obi-Wan's flailing arms smacked the bridge of his nose hard enough to make him see stars. Ow, he thought vaguely, and clamped down on Obi-Wan with a Force hold that would have made Yoda proud.

The shakes from the spasm seemed to last hours, and left Obi-Wan limp as a rag in his arms. "For... forgotten," he said, his voice barely audible. Tears ran from the corners of his eyes. "How much... it hurts."

"How did Anakin deal with withdrawal from the spice?" Qui-Gon asked, desperate to keep Obi-Wan talking. Obi-Wan passing out now would be bad. In as little as ten minutes, maybe twenty, it would be safe for him to sleep. But if he slept right now, still under the influence of the spice, there was the chance – slim as it was- that his heart would stop. It had happened to spice withdrawal patients before.

"He... he had Depa get me out of there. There was a med center..." he stopped talking, long enough to take as deep a breath as his tortured body would allow him. "Anakin knew the basics, and then he discovered something better. Full body restraints and immersion in water. Stimulants pumped through an i.v. line to keep the subject awake through the worst of the withdrawal. Worked like a charm. It was hell," he said tiredly. "This... is bad. That was worse. Almost... almost nothing compares."

Qui-Gon couldn't even begin to imagine. "The amount of spice in your system must have made the withdrawal last for days," he said, planting a kiss in Obi-Wan's sweat-soaked hair.

"Yes. Four... maybe five. I don't really remember. I do remember waking up, and I wasn't in the tank anymore. Mace was there. He looked at me, and I looked at him. I wasn't sure what he was waiting for. Finally, he said: "Congratulations, Obi-Wan. You have managed to crack a spice ring that has been plaguing the CorSec Authority for two years. But you picked the worst fucking method to do it that they have ever witnessed."

Qui-Gon laughed softly, because it sounded exactly like the words Mace would have chosen. Then he laughed harder, because of course it sounded exactly like Mace. These were Obi-Wan's memories of his other life, and they were talking about events that hadn't happened yet.

That stopped him cold. "Obi-Wan?" he asked tentatively.

"Hmm?"

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. "What happened on Naboo?"

He didn't think Obi-Wan would answer him. Truly he did not. And if he had even an inkling about what the answer would be, he never would have asked. "You died," Obi-Wan replied, and Qui-Gon's blood ran cold. More tears emerged from his closed eyes. "And I never forgave you for it."

Died. The word rang in his head, resonating with such a pale, final note. Qui-Gon closed his eyes tightly, pulling Obi-Wan close. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan sighed. "You shouldn't have asked me, Qui. Gods, why did you have to ask?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I just wanted...Obi-Wan!" he exclaimed, startled, when Obi-Wan escaped from his loosened grip, and in a move that was pure Mistral, was suddenly on top of Qui-Gon, pinning him to the floor.

"What do you want from me!" Obi-Wan yelled hoarsely, tears running unheeded down his face. "Please, for gods' sake, just tell me! I'll do it!"

Qui-Gon stared up at him. This was a loss of control he hadn't seen from Obi-Wan since he was a child, and he was fairly certain it wasn't all spice-related. "Obi-Wan, why are you angry with me?" he asked softly.

"Because you asked something of me that you had no right to ask," Obi-Wan said, his lips trembling. "You asked me that... and nothing else." He suddenly collapsed forward, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fell. Qui-Gon caught him, cradling the unconscious man against him.

"I'm sorry," he said again, lowering Obi-Wan down onto the mattress. "I don't know what I once did," he said, knowing instinctively that asking about Naboo was not quite all that had prompted that angry response. "But I promise I will make it up to you, my love." He pressed a kiss that Obi-Wan could not feel to unresponsive lips, and then settled onto the floor by Obi-Wan's side.

Sleep would have been wonderful, but he still needed to keep watch over his partner. There was no guarantee that the worst of the withdrawal was over, even for such a small dose, but Qui-Gon was almost certain that he would sleep through the night. At least one of us will be rested, he thought, and then snorted wryly. Obi-Wan was going to wake up feeling like he'd been pounded by hammers. Then again... He touched the bridge of his nose, wincing when there was immediate pain. He was a close second. Crossing his legs, he placed his palms on his knees and breathed deeply as he sank into meditation.

Somehow he managed to fall asleep anyway, and awoke to a crick in his neck and Obi-Wan sitting next to him. "How..." the other began conversationally, "Can you sleep like that?"

"No idea," Qui-Gon replied, wincing as his neck cracked when he tried to stretch. "How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan tilted his head to one side. "Like you used me as a hood ornament for the speeder, and then kept running into walls." Qui-Gon reached out with both hands, and Obi-Wan submitted to the Force probe gracefully. His system was running as well as could be expected, but his body was still exhausted. Obi-Wan's eyes were bloodshot but clear, and he blinked patiently at Qui-Gon as the other gradually withdrew. "Do I pass inspection, Master?"

"No, but it'll have to do. We have time for a healing trance—"

"No." Obi-Wan shook his head firmly, then clasped one hand to the side of his head when the movement pained him. "Ow. But no. We need to get back to the ship. I can trance out on that uncomfortable bunk back in our quarters."

Qui-Gon sighed, but Obi-Wan was right. Now that he was awake, the Force was prodding at him, letting him know that time was short. "All right. Water first."

"No arguments there, Qui – Oh. Oh dear." Obi-Wan reached up to first gently touch Qui-Gon's left temple, and then his nose. Both areas of Qui-Gon's face protested mightily. "Did I do that?"

"Yes, but not on purpose. They're fine, Obi-Wan," he said, brushing off the younger man's attempt at healing even as his face began to tingle with applied Force energy. "Enough," he said gently. "You need to be able to walk back to the ship."

Obi-Wan quirked his lip at him in a pained smile. "I can walk. Just don't ask me to dance. What happened last night?"

Qui-Gon smiled back. "It wasn't as bad as Corellia," he said.

Obi-Wan shut his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I told you about that. You must have thought it terribly funny." Qui-Gon nodded, his smile widening. "Great. I don't remember anything beyond trying to find my boots."

They met their host at the door, who looked Obi-Wan up and down firmly before pronouncing him fit to leave her home. "You were lucky, I think," she said, and thrust a container at them. "Water. There are pallies floating in it, so you can eat them after you drink the water. Or before, it's all the same to me."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan said, shakily bending over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "You have been very kind."

"Bosch," she said, but she was smiling happily. "We all do what we can, lad."

"Jira," Qui-Gon began, holding out the pouch that held the rest of their money. "We don't have time to return the speeder that we rented in town. It was a man named Reed. This will be enough to cover the expense of returning it."

She took it, hefting its weight. "I think it's quite a bit more than that," she retorted. "But since I know you want it to be helpful, I'll make sure it goes where it'll be put to the best use. You lads take care of yourselves. There's a storm coming, and it's not going to be pretty."

Followed by those prophetic words, they stepped out into the morning sunshine, and Obi-Wan instantly covered his eyes with his arm, moaning. "This is going to be fun," he said with a sickly smile. He reached for Qui-Gon's hand, and Qui-Gon took it, twining their fingers together.

"I'll lead," he said, "until you adjust to the light. I'm going to take the most direct route through town that I can, but it's later in the day than I thought. It's going to be busy. Are you ready?"

"More than ready, Qui." Obi-Wan stepped forward when he did, shielding his eyes from the glare of the two suns.

"Jabba's throne room," Qui-Gon said, when they left the sand behind and stepped onto the rock of the long plateau where the ship had been left.

"Vile," Obi-Wan replied instantly. He still needed to shade his eyes from the sun, but it wasn't as bad as a few hours ago. "What do you want to know?"

"Would you have killed him?" Qui-Gon asked bluntly. "Jabba?"

"He's one of the most cruel beings the galaxy has ever known. Slavery, drugs, smuggling, spice, murder, blackmail – the list is almost endless. If it's dirty, he's got his fingers in it."

Qui-Gon glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. Obi-Wan was shielding his eyes from the sun again, but he was sure there was a glint of anger there. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Truthfully, Qui? I don't know. It was certainly tempting. If another solution had presented itself, then I probably would not have. But if there had been nothing else, and he had not been frightened by what I did?" He shook his head. "I... I don't know. Though I almost wish I had." Obi-Wan rubbed his mouth, as if even the memory tasted bad.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Force knows I certainly wanted to," he said.

Obi-Wan stopped walking, looking at him carefully. "But you did not act on it."

"No," Qui-Gon said, "and neither did you."

They stared at each other, and without saying a word they both marked the subject closed before moving on. It was what separated them, made them Jedi. The thoughts that marked darkness were contemplated, but never acted upon. It meant having the strength of will to rise above the harm it was sometimes so tempting to unleash.

They were in view of the ship when Qui-Gon felt it – a dark presence lurking somewhere out in the wastes. He stopped abruptly, scanning the area around them with one hand on his lightsaber. The sled pulled to an obedient stop behind them, auto-programmed to follow their every move. Obi-Wan was back to back with him, looking around as well, even if he was still pained by the light. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan stepped away from him abruptly, turning back towards the ship. "Qui, run," he said, his lightsaber out but not ignited.

"What?" Qui-Gon whirled, trying to see what was out there.

"Run!" Obi-Wan yelled, nearly dragging Qui-Gon with him when he took off. He was instantly panting, nearly tripping on the loose rock, and it was Qui-Gon's turn to pull him along, keep him from falling. He didn't know why they were running, but the dark presence he'd sensed seemed to be closer.

Then, abruptly, Qui-Gon realized it was too late. There was darkness in front of them, and it was emptiness personified.

The figure was hooded, cloaked head to toe in black. He faced them without fear, and there was a glint of yellow from his eyes despite the hood that shrouded his face. There was a lightsaber hilt in his hands, longer than a normal hilt, and he carried it like he knew how to use it.

Qui-Gon had never seen a Sith before in his life, but he would die swearing that he was seeing one now. "Obi-Wan," he said, knowing that his partner would understand his intent.

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber, holding it without a hint of the physical weakness that Qui-Gon knew he felt. Qui-Gon's emerald blade joined the dark sapphire one, and together they faced a creature that had been a part of a crecheling's nightmares for thousands of years.

The Sith attacked without warning, igniting a lightsaber the color of fresh blood and flying through the air. Except that he ignited it twice, and Qui-Gon's mind stumbled, trying to deal with the fact that he bore a lightstaff.

He blocked one side of the blade while Obi-Wan's lightsaber was slammed by the other. The Sith landed between them, spinning in place with the blade and forcing Qui-Gon to counter at least three times faster than he would have against someone using a single blade. Force, he thought in blank amazement and horror. He's as fast as Obi-Wan.

It was only due to their sparring in multiple forms that Qui-Gon lived through the first few seconds of the duel. If he and Obi-Wan had limited themselves to practicing only the Fourth, one or both of them would have been dead almost immediately. The creature was fast, frighteningly so, and Qui-Gon was desperately aware that Obi-Wan was ready to stumble with exhaustion.

When the Nubian transport roared over their heads, ramp extended, Qui-Gon acted. Distracted for a bare second by the ship overhead, the Sith went flying when the Force shove caught him unawares. Anakin bound down the ramp, face grim, knowing without being told that the hyperdrive motivator was his priority. Obi-Wan screamed, and just as Qui-Gon was aware of the danger, he knew that Obi-Wan had already moved to prevent it. There was a flash, and the Sith fell to the ground before them, howling. His lightsaber was gone, but his rage was not. The smell that rose into the air was reminiscent of badly burned meat.

He wanted to stay, to finish this battle – put an end to the threat before it could gain influence over them. Then Obi-Wan dropped to his knees, and Qui-Gon knew that now was not the time. Qui-Gon seized Obi-Wan by the waist, making the leap into the ship for them both. Anakin followed, the motivator cradled in his arms.

They left the Sith standing alone in the desert, staring up at the retreating ship contemplatively.

He collapsed to the deck, gasping for breath, aware that beside him, Obi-Wan was doing the same. Anakin dropped the hyperdrive motivator into a set of crash webbing and hit the intercom next to the ramp. "Get us out of here!" he yelled, leaving the comm without waiting for an answer. He didn't need one – Qui-Gon could feel the ship accelerating away from the planet.

"What happened?" Anakin said breathlessly, his eyes wide. "What the hell was that—what happened to you?" he burst out, seeing his Master's pale skin and shaking hands.

"Never mind that now, Anakin," Qui-Gon said, pointing at the hyperdrive motivator. "That's got to be installed, and right now you're the only one who can do it. We've got to get out of here – if that thing has a ship, he's bound to follow us."

Anakin bit his lip, torn between wanting to help tend his Master and knowing that repairing the ship was the best way to do so. "Okay," he said finally. "But you're going to tell me everything!" he said, picking up the hyperdrive motivator and using the Force once again to support most of its weight.

"Anakin, wait –" Obi-Wan called after him, and Anakin paused, glancing back at them worriedly. "Was the ship... was that your idea?"

"Yes, Master," Anakin said, looking back and forth at both of them. "Did I do okay?"

Obi-Wan nodded at him, smiling faintly. "You did more than okay. That was brilliant."

Anakin smiled at them finally, ducking his head in acknowledgment of the compliment. "Thank you, Masters. I'll go make sure this gets done as quickly as I can."

"I'll help him," a quiet female voice said, and Qui-Gon belatedly realized that Padmé was there as well. She palmed open the door to the engine compartment, following Anakin into the room before the door shut behind her.

"Well," Obi-Wan said, his voice hoarse. "That was a really bad way to start the day. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Are you all right?" Qui-Gon asked, propping himself up on one elbow to look at Obi-Wan. The other man was still shaking, but it was with exhaustion, not withdrawal, as he very slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position.

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes, and then his lips, wincing as they cracked and bled. "Yes. Are you?"

"I think I've just been frightened out of my wits," Qui-Gon replied bluntly. "Obi-Wan, that ... it was what I think it was, wasn't it?"

"If what you think it is... is a Sith. Well, I'm terribly sorry. You're right." Obi-Wan sighed, and suddenly he seemed both terribly young and terribly old, all at once. "I wanted to be wrong," he whispered brokenly.

Qui-Gon looked at him in shock, as the depth of Obi-Wan's words sank in. "Oh, hell. You're talking about the return of the Sith."

Obi-Wan shook his head, his eyes dark. "I'm talking about the end of the Jedi."