Risorgimento - First Steps

by obi-ki and padawanewan

Title: Risorgimento - First Steps

Authors: obi-ki and padawanewan

Pairing: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan

Rating: PG-13

Catacory: Q/O AU

Time Period: About 20 years post ABY

Archive: MA, please archive each story under both authors, others please ask.

Disclaimer: Everything Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilms. I am just playing in his world, borrowing the boyz and their accomplices and will return them all when I'm through. No money is being made from this, it is all done for entertainment only.

Author's notes: This is the fifth story in the Risorgimento series and is the third segment that was totally co-written and as such and is told from both Qui-Gon's and Obi-Wan's POVs. Thanks to Monalee and Merry Amelie for their through betas and throughtful suggestions. The story would be much less without their valuable input. Sorry it's taken so long to get this part posted, RL has been absolutely hideous for both of us.

Summary: Qui-Gon awakens in an unfamiliar environment, disoriented and thinking that the time is immediately following the Battle of Naboo. Obi-Wan awakens in the same unfamiliar environment, confused and thinking that it is immediately following the Battle on Mustafar. They separately meet up with their host, Var-Son Meirr, and eventually find that they are in a remote medical facility, that Var-Son cloned them and that it's currently fifty-five years post Naboo. After spending some time getting acclimated and learning about the events of the last fifty-five years, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are finally brought together by their creator.

When the shock wears off, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spend time with the healer and eventually alone together. They learn about more about the events that have occurred and about each other. Especially in Obi-Wan's case, the events that occurred during the years after Naboo changed him and he is far from the inexperienced padawan that walked for so many years at his master's side. As they reconnect, they find something is off about them and they struggle to figure out how to deal with it. They speak to the healer about their concerns and Obi-Wan hears vague directions and odd comments from an internal voice. They decide that joint mediation may prove helpful and Var-Son directs them to the facility's garden.

During their joint meditation, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan reach out to one another and create the beginnings of a new bond between them. Although not as strong as their previous connection, they both feel it's a good beginning and will strengthen in time. Unbeknownst to them, they have company during their meditations - their ethereal counterparts are watching them and contemplating what if anything they can do to aid the clones along their path. When the meditation is over and both men return to their individual quarters, they spend some time in thought trying to get a handle on their situation.

Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan spend some time contemplating the events of the past few days and of their joint meditation. They use the datapads they find in their quarters to put their thoughts down and try to come to terms with their unique situation.

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When Qui-Gon awoke again it was almost seventh hour, so he rose from bed and headed into the refresher. As he ran through his morning ablutions, he contemplated the situation. There were still many unanswered questions but writing things out in the journal had solidified one thing for him. No matter what else had changed in the fifty-five years that had passed since his last memory, one essential fact remained. He was and always would be a Jedi and, if he was open to it, the Force would guide his path as it always had.

After toweling himself dry, he returned to the bedroom and took out a clean set of Jedi tunics. He pulled on his small-clothes and socks, then spread the pieces of clothing carefully on the bed. There were thousands of years of history in the six garments that made up the Jedi uniform and each piece shared connections with one or more of the Jedi koans. With a formality normally reserved for padawan vows, knighting ceremonies or master's oaths, he proceeded to don each layer.

Slipping the cream-colored inner tunic over his head, Qui-Gon smoothed it over his chest with both hands before fastening the eight tiny buttons that held the tight cuffs firmly in place. 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' He had lived that tenet of the Force faithfully, in spite of his reputation as a maverick.

He donned the dark brown leggings and then picked up the tan outer tunic. He pulled on the heavy linen tunic, again smoothing it down over his chest. 'There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.' A Jedi never stopped learning and a padawan taught the master as often as the master taught the padawan, if the partnership was right. He'd had that kind of relationship with Obi-Wan and Force-willing they would have many more years together again to learn from one another.

He draped the stola over his shoulders and wrapped the sash carefully around his waist. 'There is no passion, there is serenity.' Outwardly, he had always been a model of serenity, calm and controlled even in the most perilous situations. But with the Council or those close to him, he had allowed his passionate side to surface, fighting for his beliefs even when they went against popular opinion or Council decree. Only in his feelings for Obi-Wan had he stayed his passions, believing that there would be time to act on those feelings after Obi-Wan's knighting.

He cinched his belt, his missing lightsaber weighing heavily on his heart. Var-Son had insinuated that this was a state-of-the-art facility. Hopefully, that would include a lab with both the parts and tools necessary for 'saber construction, not to mention some gems suitable to serve as focusing crystals.

Picking up the brown cloak, Qui-Gon focused on the weight of the wool in his hands. Second only to the lightsaber as the most visible symbol of the Jedi, it wrapped them in both an air of mystery and the staid and serene composure that they were so noted for. 'There is no death, there is the Force.' He slipped the cloak over his shoulders and pushed his hands into the sleeves. Although he was certain that the Force had embraced him upon his death, he found that was cold comfort knowing how things had turned out. His life had come to an abrupt end and his choices had burdened Obi-Wan with a lonely life.

Adjusting his hood to rest more comfortably on his shoulders, Qui-Gon vowed he would not make the same mistakes again. He would share his innermost feelings with Obi-Wan, and would address all the things that had remained unspoken between them in the past. But that would be down the road a-ways; for the moment, they had more immediate issues to deal with.

Leaving his quarters, Qui-Gon walked slowly down the hallway to Obi-Wan's room. Taking a deep breath and releasing any lingering anxiety to the Force, he knocked on the door.

Obi-Wan had woken with a smile and a rather pressing need that he took care of in a leisurely manner while in the 'fresher. The real water shower was lovely, as was the fantasy that accompanied it - one complete with Qui-Gon, a few well-placed words and certain body parts.

After drying, Obi-Wan selected clean garments. He had rarely worn anything other than standard Jedi garments and took no notice that he would once again be dressed as a full Jedi master. His mind was occupied with more important matters.

Unconsciously humming a familiar tune, one he'd written about in his journal the night before, Obi-Wan dressed and readied himself for the day. His thoughts were awash in all that had occured, but two things stood out more than the rest.
He wanted his fucking lightsaber - in truth, yesterday would not have been too soon - and he would have preferred the answers to his myriad of questions the day before that.

He mentally chided himself for his uncharacteristic impatience. Anybody looking at him would see a calm, rather young Jedi Master, methodically dressed and faintly smiling. But they couldn't read the Force or sense the sheer determination and stubbornness that General Kenobi was known to display.

Feeling a very Qui-Gon-like disturbance at his door, Obi-Wan's smile became a bit naughty. He finished pulling on his boots, stood and collected the long robe. He also tucked the personal datareader into his belt.

Walking to the door, Obi-Wan hummed happily as he opened it and welcomed Qui-Gon inside.

Qui-Gon caught the the strains of a familiar tune and regarded his companion in confusion. The tune Obi-Wan was humming was an old love song that Qui-Gon had listened to and sung along with often, especially during the last few years of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. The entire song had echoed the feelings hidden within the depths of his heart, but the last line of the refrain had summed it up perfectly. 'In my life, I love you more.'

To hear the tune at this moment sent Qui-Gon's mind further into disarray. Was Obi-Wan flirting with him? Deciding that was a concept he wasn't ready to deal with, Qui-Gon opted for a safe comment. "Good morning, Obi-Wan. Did you sleep well?" Walking through the open door, he was not surprised to see a room almost identical his own.

Although a bit disappointed that Qui-Gon hadn't risen to the bait, Obi-Wan nodded and remarked, "Yes, I slept very well and woke quite nicely, though my morning shower was rather refreshing."

Force forbid, Obi-Wan was flirting with him. Part of Qui-Gon soared at the idea but the rest of him was churning with trepidation. Again, he took the safe way out. "So, shall we head to the dining room, fill our bellies and get the answers to some more of our questions?"

Sensing his quarry was about to make a run for it, Obi-Wan dropped the not-so-subtle flirting and chose to make his feelings very clear, so they could move on. Stepping closer to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan spoke calmly and with assurance. “Yes, Qui-Gon. We can sort out our particulars with Var-Son first, but know that soon we will make the time to discuss what will be and what should have always been between us.”

He smiled slowly and, joined by the echo of another Obi-Wan Kenobi, he stated, “There will be an ‘Us’ this time, Qui-Gon, I promise you.”

If there had been any doubt before, Obi-Wan's fervent declaration left no question in Qui-Gon's mind or heart. The door had been opened. Now all he needed to do was step through it. "I look forward to that discussion, Obi-Wan." He reached up and drew his fingertips along the edge of Obi-Wan's beard. "I, too, find delving into the possibilities of 'Us' very appealing."

The smile on Obi-Wan's face was open and, for the moment, free of shadows. He captured the fingertips trailing his face and kissed them lightly before letting go. “Later, then.”

Flourishing a bow, General Kenobi gestured to the doorway. His voice was cultured and the delivery had a posh elegance. “After you, dear Master. Breaking our fast awaits.”

The warmth of Obi-Wan's smile and the heat of his lips settled into Qui-Gon's heart and he followed his former padawan with a light step. They walked in companionable silence for the three minutes it took to reach the dining area and entered the room to find an assortment of foods already laid out and Var-Son seated at the table.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I was just contemplating sending one of the droids to find you." Var-Son motioned to the seats across from him. "Please sit and eat, before everything gets cold." When they had settled into their chairs, he added, "Was the garden suitable?"

"It was perfect, thank you," Qui-Gon answered. "Just the right atmosphere for some in-depth meditation and soul-searching."

"Glad I was able to provide," Var-Son said. "May I ask what your soul-searching uncovered?"

"A few answers, but many more questions," Qui-Gon replied, cryptically.

"Sounds a lot like scientific research," Var-Son said with a smile. "Sometimes all you get are more questions."

"The answers to many questions depend on the questioner's point of view." Qui-Gon filled his plate, poured a glass of juice and a mug of tea and started to eat.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow and murmured, for Qui-Gon's ears alone, "As does the truth, or so my Master often told me."

"So you were paying attention, Padawan," Qui-Gon commented just as softly.

"How could I not when you laid it on like a two-credit cantina performer, Master?"

A raised eyebrow his only reply, Qui-Gon turned back to the healer. "During our earlier conversations, you explained that you continued your work in cloning technology as a means of redemption for your involvement in Palpatine's atrocities. You also said that you wanted us to help Luke Skywalker and the New Republic. But how do you plan on having us do that if we are sequestered in this remote place?"

"I may have selected a location away from the Core worlds but I have not left myself completely isolated," the healer explained. "There is a small transport with hyperspace capability sitting at the ready in the hangar bay for you."

The last words of that comment caught Qui-Gon off-guard. "You won’t be coming with us?"

An uncharacteristically vulnerable look crossed the healer's face as he replied, "No, I will not."

“Why would that be?” Obi-Wan asked.

"Well, there are a number of reasons, but the bottom line is that it would be a futile effort," Var-Son stated somewhat flatly.

"What do you mean, futile? Please explain," Qui-Gon requested.

"You mean besides the fact that Luke Skywalker would want nothing to do with the man who helped Palpatine continue his reign of terror in the Galaxy," Var-Son quipped. The wry smile faded after a second. "I'm dying." He took another breath and pressed on. "And before you ask, there is nothing that can be done for me. I have a degenerative vascular condition and the drugs I have been using to control it have been slowly deteriorating my heart muscle. At best, I have two to three days before my heart fails."

The healer's admission was both unexpected and disheartening and Qui-Gon found himself at a loss as to how to respond. This man was responsible for bringing both he and Obi-Wan to life and now he was dying. In spite of Var-Son's comments, he had to ask. "Is there no medical facility in the New Republic that can successfully treat your condition?"

"Sadly for me, no," Var-Son replied. "Although we are a good distance outside the Core, I have full access to all of the major medical databases. I have done extensive research and found nothing to halt the progress of the disease. The treatment I've created has helped me to stave off the worst of the symptoms but not without serious side effects; thus, my cardiac issues. But in spite of everything, I am ready. I have lived a long and productive life and, with your existence, I feel I have now contributed to society in a positive way."

"And what will become of your research and this facility?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I will provide you with complete copies of all my research to take with you when you leave," Var-Son said. "I will let you decide whether the information should be destroyed or turned over to Master Cilghal, the head of the healing arts in the New Jedi Order." Again a half-smile formed on his face. "As for the facility, I have preset a fully automated purge and destruct protocol. Once the FX-7 medical droid confirms my death, it will purge the computer systems and perform mind-wipes on the other droids. When that is complete, it will have all the reusable medical equipment, including the other droids, loaded into two self-launching storage modules. After they are safely in orbit and the prerecorded retrieval message has been confirmed by the New Republic medical assistance foundation, it will initiate the self-destruct command that will reduce this facility to little more than rock and ash."

"Isn't that rather extreme?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Not really. My research and procedures can be and have been used for less than altruistic purposes," the healer admitted. "It's best that all physical evidence of my work, except for the two of you, of course, be erased. I cannot risk the possibility of any of this information falling into the wrong hands."

As much as Qui-Gon found this cold and analytical thought process disconcerting, especially in light of the man's physical condition, the logic behind the healer's words was flawless. "Then we will remain with you until the end and assist with the process of cleaning out the facility."

"I appreciate the concern, Master Jinn, but that won't be necessary," Var-Son countered. "I expect the end to come quickly when it arrives and FX-7 has been fully programmed on what he needs to do to keep me comfortable."

"No one should die alone, Ser Meirr," Obi-Wan argued. He had the oddest feeling that he knew a great deal about years of loneliness. “You gave us back our lives. We have a chance to correct a few wrongs and to help. Let us give you something back.”

Var-Son nodded in agreement, obviously touched by the gesture. He was silent for a long moment and then rose from the table. "Thank you. Your presence would be welcome. As much as I have attempted to prepare myself for this, no one can anticipate every eventuality."

"As Obi-Wan said, no one should die alone. We will do everything within our power to see that events occur as you have preordained," Qui-Gon replied.

"Knowing that you will be here to ensure that my final wishes are carried out is a weight off my shoulders." The healer pointed to the men's empty plates. "I know you are both anxious to construct new lightsabers and, to that end, there is a small workroom stocked with the necessary supplies. So if you have finished your meal, I'll take you there to get started while I finish compiling the information for Healer Cilghal."

Obi-Wan nodded even as he stood, already mentally planning out improvements to his 'saber.

Qui-Gon fought a smile at Obi-Wan's enthusiasm, easily recognizing his former padawan shifting into analytical mode. He rose from the table and turned to Var-Son. "Lead on."

TBC