Series/Sequel: A sequel to "A Place of Silence", "Sanctuary and
Sacrifice" and "Standing Against the Storm", which are archived
on my homepage and M_A. Fourth in the "Devotion" series.
Category: angst, action/adventure, drama, A/U
Rating: R for disturbing and dark themes
Summary: A reckoning, a separation, a choice...and an
unexpected battle.
Archive: My homepage, M_A and The Nesting Place only; all
others ask first please.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em. I use 'em. Lots.
Authors' Notes: I'm still trampling all over canon! This story
is a definite cliffhanger, but it was just getting too
long to continue. I will wrap up everything in the next story,
which should be the last one...please bear with me.
Feedback: Yes please. I welcome and encourage all comments.
Special thanks: to Kaly, Rina and Krychick for helping me keep
my head on straight this last week. Thanks to Rina also for the
fast, short-notice beta!
In sleep, the darkness no longer stalked Obi-Wan; the corners
of his confusion were pulled back, revealing only the memory of
Qui-Gon's cleansing touch. He lived the beauty of their
lovemaking again in his dream - fingers trailing down his
spine, lips following, leaving behind validation of his
Master's love. He felt affirmation of the joy he'd craved with
all of his being every day of his captivity. His fear was swept
away by his Master's careful explorations. He was free ...free,
and safe, and a man whose healing had begun, no longer
shattered into pieces, no longer searching for an answer to his
despair...
Reality intruded slowly into his dreamscape. A soft kiss was
pressed to his pliant lips, which parted of their own accord to
allow the quick, teasing entry of a tongue determined to entice
him into wakefulness. His lower lip was captured, caressed, and
his name was sighed gently into his mouth. "Obi-Wan..."
The younger Jedi moved closer to accept the welcome invasion,
and stretched against the comfortable familiarity of Qui-Gon's
body, content to remain still within the circle of his Master's
arms. Large, firm hands wandered slowly down the length of his
chilled body, warming him, and he realized the fire at his back
had long since cooled.
"Is it morning?" Obi-Wan heard the sleepy fuzziness of his own
voice, and his Master chuckling softly.
"You slept the night through," Qui-Gon confirmed, not bothering
to hide his relief and pleasure.
Obi-Wan pulled back slightly, and his breath caught in his
throat as he looked into the depths of Qui-Gon's dark blue
gaze. His Master's eyes reflected a complete, utter confidence
as they raked across Obi-Wan's body; it was a look of
possession, of protection, of satisfaction. Obi-Wan had nearly
forgotten how breathtaking that look could be, and a sensuous
smile spread across his face as he watched Qui-Gon's eyes
traveling his nude form, worshipping it without words or touch.
A fleeting sensation passed across his consciousness, barely
there, and yet vital, urgent somehow. He frowned, looking to
Qui-Gon. "There's a disturbance in the Force," he noted.
Qui-Gon rose from his prone position, sitting up quickly with
an athlete's grace and drawing Obi-Wan up with him. "I sense it
also," he admitted. "While you were still asleep, I began to
feel the presence of other Jedi nearby. That's why I woke you."
"You think they've come for us." Half statement, half question.
A stab of fear passed through Obi-Wan, flickering briefly in
his eyes.
"There's no other reason for Jedi to be on this world.
Certainly not with this much agitation in the Force." Qui-Gon
seemed far away, and yet sharply alert in the moment, reaching
out with the rusty abilities of a Jedi Master to gather what
information he could.
Obi-Wan sat still for a moment, quieting his mind. "They know
we're aware of their presence," he said suddenly, sure of it.
"Why are they waiting?"
"They are waiting for us to go to them," Qui-Gon said
scornfully. "Fools."
"And if we don't?" Obi-Wan asked uncertainly. He knew the
probable outcomes of every scenario involving a confrontation
with other Jedi. Every path in that direction led to darkness,
and Obi-Wan knew Qui-Gon must feel the same.
Qui-Gon stood and began to dress. "Then we shall have to fight
our way out, and off this world." The words were spoken grimly,
but casually, as if Master and Padawan were discussing the most
mundane mission imaginable.
The implications of the course of action he described reached
Obi-Wan immediately. "Raising a hand to another Jedi is
forbidden by the Code, unless in the course of training or
practice," he said slowly, struggling with the very notion of
actually battling a full Knight or Master. Instinctively, he
knew he was not prepared for the challenge of it; he had not
trained in any capacity for over a year, and his muscles were
weaker through lack of activity. His reflexes were slower; his
sensitivity to the Force diminished.
Obi-Wan pulled his clothing to him and began to dress. A deep
sense of unease penetrated the core of his being, sending
ripples of worry and uncertainty through him and out into the
Force.
"Obi-Wan...you will have to make another choice now, one that
is not so easily decided." Qui-Gon fastened his lightsaber to
his belt - a move which seemed strangely, suddenly ominous to
Obi-Wan - and sat down to pull on his boots. "I told the
Council I would not be separated from you until you recovered.
You've begun, but a beginning is all it is - there is much
ahead of you. I won't be made to return...and I won't let them
take you from me, unless you wish to go."
"No," Obi-Wan said immediately, vehemently. "If you will not
return to the Temple, I will not." Unspoken words
created their own vacuum as his voice dropped away.
"But you will not fight these Jedi." There was no accusation in
the tone, just acceptance, as Qui-Gon spoke.
"I can't," Obi-Wan said, torn. His newly-recovered sense of
inner peace wavered on the brink of uncertainty, jolted by the
touch of impending disaster. "I...I can't. I'm not in any shape
to win a fight...and it's forbidden by the Code."
"I'm no longer bound by the Code," Qui-Gon said, his voice
taking on an edge of ferocity that drew Obi-Wan's attention
fully. "And if I resist? What then?"
Obi-Wan already knew his answer to this crucial question, one
Qui-Gon had been bound to ask. Nothing had changed, despite his
Master's deviation from the path of light, despite anything
that might come against them. There was nothing to decide, and
he sent the doubts scurrying into a corner of his mind,
dismissing them.
"If that is your choice, I will come with you," he said slowly,
feeling the press of Qui-Gon's emotions pouring into him
unguarded. His Master's relief, mingled with deep, unwavering
devotion and desire, anchored Obi-Wan to the choice he made. He
met Qui-Gon's eyes, and illustrated the invisible line he would
not cross. "But I will not take the offensive against them."
Qui-Gon was silent, watching as Obi-Wan finished the process of
dressing himself. Despite his Padawan's progress, he was still
pale, and thin, and tired far too easily. The faintest of
tremors manifested in the young man's hands as he belted his
sash, tugging and pulling it into the proper position. Qui-Gon
crossed the short distance between them, pulling Obi-Wan into
his arms roughly. His Padawan looked up at him with complete
trust, and his eyes were calm. "Be certain, Obi-Wan."
In answer, his Padawan reached up to wrap his hand around the
nape of Qui-Gon's neck, and pulled the Jedi Master down into a
ravaging kiss, his lips delivering a siren call of raw,
unfiltered need. Qui-Gon felt himself falling into an endless
place of perfection too costly to abandon, where love and the
promise of a future together were all that shone in a vast
darkness. He let himself fall, tethered only to Obi-Wan's hope
and trust, and knew it would be enough.
"All right," Qui-Gon whispered into that roving, claiming kiss.
"Let's go."
"Straight out, then?" Obi-Wan picked up his partially completed
weapon, gave it a glance of rueful regret, and pocketed it in
his cloak as he swung the garment around his shoulders.
"There's no other way."
With astonishing speed and beauty, the sun which sustained life
on Messemer Prime chased away the last wisps of night, melting
away the orange dawn and delivering burning heat to the early
hours of the day. Five cloaked figures stood outside the
temporary residence of Qui-Gon Jinn, in the shadows and corners
of buildings, using their combined Force abilities to steer
away citizens wandering nearby. Although calm, these Jedi were
ready for battle, and they did not expect any sort of easy
acquiescence on the part of Master Qui-Gon Jinn.
Their instructions from Master Windu had been simple and
pointed. Take both Jedi alive, stop them from injuring
themselves or others through use of the Force, subdue them and
deliver them back to the Temple on Coruscant. The five warriors
had honed their skills in various conflicts throughout the
Republic, and were chosen personally by Master Yoda.
Two of the Knights, Kal-Iana Arka and Kiriesten Maaj, had taken
classes in advanced saber techniques from Qui-Gon while he
taught briefly at the Temple many years ago. They had grown to
respect the man, and had found their respect twisted in a
strange and painful direction as they gave their knowledge of
his techniques and tricks to the other warriors. Now they
watched, and waited, and prepared to die at the hands of a
fellow Jedi in order to bring him back to the path of light.
Not for the first time, they looked at one another, each
soberly contemplating what was to come.
The door of the residence swung open, and Qui-Gon Jinn emerged,
lightsaber still fastened to his belt. Obi-Wan hovered just
inside the door, conscious of the fact his Master was gauging
his opponents, measuring their strength in comparison to his
own.
None of the Jedi moved. Kal-Iana Arka spoke softly, delivering
the message she was given. "Master Jinn. We have been sent by
the Council to escort you back to Coruscant, where you must
face the Council and answer for your actions. You and your
Padawan must come with us."
"No." Qui-Gon spoke, and waited.
There was a flurry of activity then, faster than the average
eye could track, as destiny sped into motion. Two Jedi moved to
subdue Qui-Gon and were repulsed by a wave of Force-focused
power, astonishing in its intensity, unchecked. The Jedi Master
held nothing back. His hand closed as the last of the wave
emanated from him, and his lightsaber found its way to those
fingers, the movement automatic and effortless.
Obi-Wan slipped from behind his Master and began to run, as
they had agreed, heading down a street that would take him away
from the spaceport, away from the city, and into the forest
beyond. He knew what would happen if he were caught, the price
that would be exacted from Qui-Gon, and that knowledge lent
speed to his running strides.
Like a shadow cast across his soul, Kiriesten Maaj was in his
path, her hands open, one extended toward him. "Stop, Obi-Wan!"
she cried, and he pulled up short, bouncing in place, looking
for a way past her. This was a classmate, a friend only three
years older, and her face was contorted with the pull of her
own memories. "Please...don't make me-"
Obi-Wan dodged to one side and bolted toward the opposite side
of her, sprinting on. Maaj wheeled on him and used a
Force-powered shove to knock him off his feet. Obi-Wan rolled
with a grace born of instinct and rose up running again. The
second shove was twice as powerful as the first, no longer
tamed by a desire to reason calmly. Now it's down to
business, Obi-Wan thought, a momentary irrational humor
creeping into his mind as he pictured his frantic goal. He
pushed up from the ground once again.
"Please, Obi-Wan, please," Maaj begged him, a hint of
steel hovering beneath her appeal.
Obi-Wan faced her, chest heaving, and allowed himself to look
back at his Master. His heart contracted with anguish at the
sight of the deadly dance. Sabers flashed, and as he stared,
Qui-Gon cut Arka across the shoulder, a deliberate wound meant
to delay, and not to kill. Another Jedi lay motionless in the
road, saber only inches from his outstretched hand. Obi-Wan
could not tell if the Knight was alive or dead. And still his
Master battled in the midst of the three remaining Knights. He
watched as if spellbound.
He was weighted suddenly by Maaj's body as she launched herself
at him, taking advantage of his distraction. They slammed to
the ground, grappling for handholds. "Kiri," he gasped, still
trying to recover the breath forced from his lungs as they
fell. "Don't!"
Maaj ignored him as she canvassed for weak points. He winced as
she laid a blow to his abdomen, unerringly striking a
still-tender previous injury, one he realized he must have
unconsciously been protecting. With a whoof, he lost the last
of his air. He closed his eyes and summoned the Force, and
shoved at her with his mind. The long-awaited sensation of
power moved through him as she lost her grip on his wrist and
jerked backward drunkenly.
She pushed back with the Force, stunning him, and the brutal
reality of the moment filled Obi-Wan with a dread he'd never
imagined would be possible. To win this fight, he would have to
attempt to severely injure or kill his friend...and he was not
willing to do so, even if he were capable. All the moments of
the future with Qui-Gon assailed him, beckoning, offering
promise. He closed his mind, and with that surrender, dropped
his arms and lay motionless in the street.
Maaj sat up, straddling him, breathing hard, and said, "Your
word as a Jedi. You will no longer resist?"
"You have my word," he said, and the last of his strength fled
him with the utterance. He closed his eyes as her weight left
him. She returned only a moment later, and snapped something
into place around his neck. All too well, he recognized the
feeling. Sickened, he turned his head to the side as the
Force-dampening collar was activated, feeling the Force
bleeding away from him in a cold rush, until nothing remained.
All color drained from Qui-Gon's face as he lost the sense of
Obi-Wan's presence within the living Force. He leapt in the air
and bashed the haft of his saber into Arka's face, knocking her
to the ground. "Obi-Wan!" He roared the name in a voice as
frightening as it was desperate, even as he turned in a circle,
seeking his Padawan, finding him in the middle of the street,
unmoving.
All sanity left Qui-Gon, leaving him feral, as the sounds of
the world faded into silence. He became a wild thing, strength
redoubled, madness giving purpose and clarity to every action.
He lashed out, made primitive by the grief which ate away his
conscience. The hot wash of pain through his soul eroded the
last vestiges of adherence to a way of life which no longer
held meaning for him.
Someone was shouting his name, blocking his path as he went for
Kiriesten Maaj, and he realized he should know the face, should
have heard the love in that voice. Obi-Wan was before him,
making the futile attempt to restrain him, and he pulled back,
not comprehending, until he saw the collar on Obi-Wan's neck.
In a sudden explosion of sound, he heard his Padawan shouting
his name, knew he was defeated, and he dropped his saber as he
reached for the younger man.
Immediately, Qui-Gon was restrained, and with Obi-Wan before
him, alive but hobbled by the collar, there was no reason to
struggle. His place was with Obi-Wan... there was nothing left
but to make sure he kept his word, regardless of personal
consequence.
Qui-Gon flinched as a collar identical to Obi-Wan's was
fastened to his neck. He heard Obi-Wan shout in protest as he
sank into temporary oblivion.
Qui-Gon awoke in a state of sudden terror, Force-blinded. An
excruciating moment of awareness followed, as the memories
crashed down on him. Rattled, he raised up on the bed, looking
around frantically. A pair of hands restrained him, and he
looked up into the face of Mace Windu. "Mace," he said, voice
incredibly hoarse. He realized suddenly that he was back on
Coruscant. "Where is Obi-Wan?" he demanded, anger surging
instantly.
Master Windu recoiled from the dark emotion rampaging inside
his friend. The rage emanating from Qui-Gon trampled the peace
and order of his own thoughts, rearranging them into a
discordant jumble. "Your Padawan is safe, Master Jinn," he said
sternly, deliberately placing an official, formal distance
between them, using that distance to aid him in blocking
Qui-Gon's feelings.
"They kept me in a Force-induced sleep," Qui-Gon guessed. It
explained his hoarseness. "How long?"
"A week. Time enough for the journey back from Messemer Prime,
and to put some security measures in place here. You have
become a dangerous man," Windu observed, without judgment. "You
severely injured two Jedi. One is lucky to have survived."
Windu studied the man before him, letting his senses stretch
out to touch Qui-Gon's innermost feelings. "Is there nothing
left of your conscience, Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon swung his legs down from the bunk and snorted. "I knew
this was coming. Now I'll hear all the lectures, the sad
clucking over my fall, the pronouncements about
rehabilitation." He looked up at the tall, dark-skinned man. "I
did what I had to do," he said simply, no trace of apology in
the words.
"You went too far," Windu said, in that same simple, calm tone.
"There will be punishment."
"Let me see Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, cutting off the discussion.
"I want to see that he's all right. He shouldn't be made to
wear a Force-dampening collar. Not after what happened to him.
It's brutal."
"Perhaps you should enlighten me, then. Your Padawan has
refused to discuss his experiences in the brothel. He has, in
fact, refused to speak at all, other than to demand to see you
and demand his freedom as well."
Qui-Gon lunged up off the bed, but gained control of himself
even as Windu moved aside to make room for a defensive action.
"His freedom is the issue, Mace. I searched for him for
a year, and when I find him, the Jedi make him a prisoner
again."
"This is your doing," Mace reminded him. "Had you returned to
the Temple when Yoda made the invitation, you-"
"Invitation?" Qui-Gon said incredulously. "Should I have
accepted an invitation to my own execution? It's the same
thing."
"Had you returned then," Windu continued patiently, "Obi-Wan
would have been given treatment immediately and would never
have been confined at all. He is under guard simply because he
chose to remain with you, and to attempt escape with you - and
for no other reason."
"He was brutalized," Qui-Gon said, his face haggard. "Raped,
repeatedly. Blinded. Kept under a Force-dampening field - Mace,
you have to get that Sith-spawned collar off of him, damn it!"
The tone turned from impatient to pleading.
Windu pulled a small comlink from within the folds of his robe
and keyed it.
"Station ten," said a small voice.
"This is Master Windu. On my authorization, have the guards
remove the Force-dampening collar Kenobi is wearing."
"Master Windu, that's in direct opposition to Master Yoda's
instructions," the Jedi at the other end reminded him
respectfully.
"Do it," the Master ordered brusquely, switching off the link.
He watched the harsh tension in Qui-Gon's face ease a bit. "So
you decided to go against the Council, the Order, everything
you've worked for your whole life. You threw away everything,
Qui-Gon." He looked at the other Master sorrowfully.
"Obi-Wan was worth the sacrifice," Qui-Gon said.
"Because he was your Padawan, or your lover?" Mace asked
shrewdly.
"Both. Either. It doesn't matter. I can't take any of it back,
and as long as he's safe I don't care if I'm consigned to the
hells of the Sith." Qui-Gon felt overwhelmingly tired. "When
can I see Obi-Wan?"
"Not until you've faced the Council."
"Oh, I have some words for the Council," Qui-Gon muttered
darkly as he eased himself back down on the bed. He rolled
over, turning his back to his friend, and fell silent.
Mace looked at his old friend for several long moments. "One
more thing, Qui-Gon. Don't try to leave these quarters. I don't
want to have you restrained, but I will."
"Get out," Qui-Gon answered. He listened as Windu keyed the
panel and left the room. With a sigh, he shut his eyes, willing
himself into a natural meditative state. He was going to need
his strength in the days to come.
Obi-Wan stood motionless on the terrace of the living quarters
the Council had assigned him, watching the hard, glittering
lights of Coruscant gleaming against the sky. Frustration and
fear welled up inside him; he tried to pass them on, into the
Force, but they lingered with him, whispering madness in his
ear.
He resisted the futile impulse to reach out to Qui-Gon, knowing
he could not reach the Jedi Master through the dampening field
surrounding his quarters. It was a comfortable prison his
Master inhabited, but still a prison. Obi-Wan's heart hurt with
empathy for his Master's lost freedom. It was a high price to
pay for the life of a Padawan, one so damaged he would never be
a Knight. Obi-Wan was sure of it now.
"Come inside, Padawan."
The voice from behind Obi-Wan was unmistakable. The young Jedi
turned to find Yoda just inside, looking at him with an
inscrutable expression. Obi-Wan bowed to the ancient Jedi
Master, and stepped into the room as he'd been instructed. The
strong transparisteel door slid closed behind him, blanking out
the city noise and leaving the two Jedi enclosed in silence and
tension.
Absently, Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over the slightly sore spots on
his neck where the Force-dampening collar rested only a few
hours before. Yoda watched the unconscious action, ever
perceptive.
"How feel you?" the wizened Jedi Master asked.
"Angry." Obi-Wan's answer was immediate. "When may I see my
Master?"
"Patience, patience you must learn," Yoda lectured. "When the
time is right, see him you will. Tell me, how is your
training?"
"I've begun the disciplines again," Obi-Wan said, feeling some
pride and pleasure despite himself. He'd learned he was not as
far out of practice as he'd once believed, and although his
strength was considerably less than before, his skill had been
easily sharpened, and improved daily.
All this, Master Yoda knew, and much more. He'd read extensive
reports from several Masters before coming to see the young
Jedi. "And your injuries? Heal, do they?"
"Yes, Master Yoda. The wounds on my chest and wrists are nearly
gone. The bacta was most helpful in the healing process."
Obi-Wan seemed agitated, bursting to ask questions.
"Heal faster, you would, if brought to medical facilities you
were when first you were found," Yoda grumbled, his face
crumpling into a disapproving knot.
"Healing involves more than bacta and bandages, Master,"
Obi-Wan snapped.
Yoda raised up a bit, ears twitching, and made a noise of
surprise and curiosity. He pointed his cane at the nearby
couch. "Sit," he commanded. "Much you do not know. Explanations
there must be, before understanding can come."
"I mean no disrespect, Master Yoda, but I don't wish to hear
your explanations," Obi-Wan said, his words much harsher than
he'd intended. "Qui-Gon saved me. He helped set me back on the
path I'd lost. Now you imprison him for it and expect me to
understand. I can't accept it."
"Speak too much, you do, but listen you do not!" barked the
diminutive Jedi, punctuating his final words by banging the
walking stick on the tiled floor. "Now you will let me
speak, Padawan."
Obi-Wan chafed with the effort of holding his tongue; his lips
thinned into a straight line as he bit back a retort. Above all
else, he had enormous respect for Yoda, and that respect kept
him from speaking.
"Troubled, is your Master. Many things has he done, many
choices made which cannot be unmade. Time for you to hear
details, young Padawan." Yoda climbed into a chair across from
Obi-Wan, sighing from the effort, and laid his walking stick
across his knees. "Know you how many men he killed in seeking
you?"
Obi-Wan said nothing. In the back off his mind, the tiny voice
of doubt began to tickle at him. "If Qui-Gon has killed, there
has been a reason," he insisted.
"Stains the spirit of a Jedi, killing does. In self-defense
only is it acceptable, or in defense of another." Yoda fixed
his piercing blue gaze on Obi-Wan. "Killed six men, he has.
Pleasure he took in the killing, Padawan. Immediate danger
there was not, in many cases. Understandable, it is.
Acceptable, it is not." Yoda absorbed the confusion Obi-Wan was
generating, waiting for the young Jedi to form his questions.
"He thought he was doing what was necessary to reach me,
Master. Why must he be condemned for it?" Obi-Wan felt as
though he was strangling, choked by the details his Master had
omitted.
"A harsh term you choose. Help him, we would, if he would allow
it. Locked away he is, by his own choice. Afraid for you, and
for himself. Knew the consequences, Qui-Gon did, long before he
found you. Your Master he will no longer be. Separated you were
so might you heal, and Qui-Gon too."
The foundations of Obi-Wan's world dropped away at the ancient
Jedi's announcement. Still, he had known it was coming, as had
Qui-Gon. Another separation after so many months of searching
was what they both feared. "You punish him, and he does not
deserve it," Obi-Wan protested.
"Punish?" Yoda echoed. "A poor example he sets for other Jedi.
A rogue, out of control, not bound by the Council's commands. A
good man, was your Master - fine warrior, good teacher. He can
be so again. Punished he has been already, by separation from
you. Face his conscience he must. Then, and only then, can he
be whole." A knowing tone crept into Yoda's words as he added,
"Takes courage, it does, to face the truth. Embrace the fear
and anger, one must, to conquer them."
Obi-Wan bowed his head. He knew Yoda was speaking to him as
much as he was referring to Qui-Gon. Still, he stubbornly
persisted. "He was certain he would be punished. As am I."
"Rehabilitated. Counseled. Much work he must do to center
himself in the Force again. Your Master he will not be, this
much is certain. Atone he must for the darkness he has embraced
to reach his goals. Master his pain and rage." Yoda hesitated.
"Separated permanently you will be."
"No!" Obi-Wan stood from the couch, body tensed as if to do
battle. "He is more to me than a teacher, Master. Surely you
must know that by now. I owe him my life...more than that."
Obi-Wan struggled for the words to convey his anguish.
"If a Knight you are to become, focus fully on your training
you must. Destructive it is, to be involved with Qui-Gon, until
his anger is resolved, his path clear. Difficult, I know."
"Like hell you do," Obi-Wan said angrily. Yoda's face hardened
in response. "I don't care what the Council believes. If it
were not for Qui-Gon, I would not have survived. I would not
have cared if I lived or died. I would have had nothing,
nothing to live for, and I would not have been able to
purge the darkness that existed within me when...when I was
freed." He allowed his own anger to build almost gleefully.
"Qui-Gon showed me the way back to the path of light, Master
Yoda. How could he do so if he is so terribly tainted?" He
layered his words with scorn. "I am no better than my Master,
and no worse. I dreamed of killing, and he killed. What is best
for both of us is to be together now."
"That will not be, Obi-Wan." Yoda was firm, but sad. "Accept
it, you must, and move on with your training." He clambered
down from the chair, heading for the door, feeling the younger
Jedi's turmoil all around him, like a sudden, violent storm.
"Will the Council not ask me what I feel?" Obi-Wan called after
him mockingly. "What feel you, Obi-Wan? Shall I tell them?"
As the door slid shut behind him, Yoda heard soft, bitter
laughter from within.
He'd delivered a thousand reports to the Council, standing in
the same position, looking into the same observant, wise faces,
awaiting their decisions. This day should have been no
different, if the universe were still on its safe, predictable
course. But everything had gone horribly wrong; the order of
things was out of balance, and Qui-Gon was a prisoner of the
Council. He had prepared for this day, hoping it would not
arrive, but believing that in the end, the combined resources
of the Jedi would cause this to come about.
Qui-Gon was thinner, but still retained his graceful, erect
bearing, a posture that spoke of dignity and power. His hair
was longer, tied back as was his custom. To Mace Windu, the
picture was jarringly incorrect because of the binders on the
Master Jedi's wrists, and the collar around his neck.
"We would like to keep the proceedings informal, Master Jinn,
but unfortunately the gravity of the situation makes that quite
difficult," Ki-Adi-Mundi began. "Doubtless you are aware of the
reasons you have been brought before the Council. All here have
worked with, and respected, you for many years. This is not an
easy moment for any of us."
"Really," Qui-Gon said, his sarcasm ringing through the
chamber.
"Master Jinn, you broke contact with the Council well over a
year ago and embarked upon a quest to rescue your Padawan. Why
did you take such drastic actions?" asked Master Gallia. "Could
you not have waited for assistance from the Council?"
"Waited?" Qui-Gon said in disbelief. "Do you have any idea what
was done to my Padawan in that filthy hole of a brothel? The
degradation he experienced? Should I have waited for the
Council to commit its limited resources to what Master Yoda
called 'a secondary concern to the negotiations'?"
"Know you what I meant, Qui-Gon," Yoda interrupted, irritated.
"Secondary for you, it was - responsibilities you had, to the
Miterrans. Others could have searched."
"It would have taken a week or more, and the trail would have
been cold when they reached Miterra," Qui-Gon answered, glaring
balefully at Yoda. "And we would not be here today, for Obi-Wan
would be dead, or still bound in slavery."
"Know that, you cannot."
"I'm certain of it," Qui-Gon countered. "I wasn't hard to find.
I made my presence known. Will you try to tell me now that you
offered me assistance? Where were your specially trained
investigators when I crawled through the muckholes and corners
of the dregs of every star system between here and Corellia,
Masters?" With their very titles, he mocked them. "You
speak of my responsibility to the Jedi, but where does your
responsibility in all this end? You drag him back here against
his will, and mine, to ensure his success as a Knight...but
where was this concern one year ago?" His eyes burned with a
fire which threatened to consume them all if set loose for even
a single millisecond.
"Think you to excuse your actions in this way, with rhetoric?"
Now Yoda's voice rang with authority, no longer wise and
gentle. "Killed men, you have, and felt pleasure."
"The taste of the death of the man who raped Obi-Wan was
sweet," Qui-Gon said viciously, so much so that Master Yaddle
flinched. "Five others I killed, who abused young men and women
and caused much misery. I did not look for alternatives,
because they chose the manner of their existence, and such
lives lead to painful deaths. But those men I killed to protect
others."
"You have also used the Force to take from others
indiscriminately," Master Billaba said.
"Because you left me with no resources. I would not go hungry,
or without shelter, lest I become weak and not be able to
continue my search. I am no longer troubled by the choices I
made."
"You should be," Master Windu said suddenly. "That's the
problem, Qui-Gon. Your moral certainty has dissolved away.
Anything and everything is justified, is that what you think?"
"Where Obi-Wan is concerned I will make no apologies."
Yoda and Windu exchanged a long glance. "Very well, then,"
Windu said. "You will no longer be Obi-Wan's Master. You will
not be allowed to teach, or train, or assume any duties among
the Jedi until an extensive rehabilitation is complete."
"Against my will?" Qui-Gon said, skeptical. "I doubt you can
manage it."
"Your will is formidable, Master Jinn. As is ours combined,"
Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "You will be required to examine your
actions, to find a path to the light, to do what is necessary
to purge the darkness from your spirit and free yourself of the
taint of it."
"And Obi-Wan?"
"Your relationship is at an end. There will be no compromise.
Obi-Wan must continue his healing without your influence, lest
he be turned away from the correct path."
"Correct path," Qui-Gon snorted. "I will find a way to
be with him. You can be assured of that much. As for the taint
to my spirit...I will address that in my own way, in my own
time. I am still my own man."
"Indeed," Windu said, deeply troubled by Qui-Gon's words and
attitude.
As if he read Windu's thoughts, Qui-Gon turned his attention to
his old friend. "I never thanked you for freeing Obi-Wan from
the collar. You have my gratitude," he said softly.
Windu nodded slightly. "Tomorrow you will leave for Corellia,
to undergo counseling there. What happens after...we shall
see."
"Yes. We will." Qui-Gon bowed, making even that action seem a
mockery, and allowed them to escort him away.
In every decision he'd ever made, there was an element of
selfishness. Obi-Wan had accepted the fact that he was not a
selfless man, unerringly driven to do the right thing.
Nevertheless, he had always given freely, with a full heart, to
those he loved, as much as to complete strangers on distant
worlds. Now he had a choice to make, one that was filled with
danger.
Qui-Gon would resist, defy, and tear himself apart before he
would accept forced separation from Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan felt
powerless to prevent that inner armageddon. Still, he knew his
choices were limited. He could accept the Council's decision
for the well-meaning but erroneous thing it was, and carry on
with his training in hopes that he might be allowed to see
Qui-Gon again once he achieved Knighthood. Or, he could resist,
refuse, delay, lobby for his Master's release, and let go of
any aspirations to Knighthood he might still carry.
At times he was still surprised by the love he held for the
Jedi, for his home at the Temple, for the calm and order that
attended every action of a Jedi. The rightness of his life
there had always been a part of him, unquestioned, even before
he became Padawan to Qui-Gon. It was the only life he'd ever
desired. It was all he knew, all that made him who he was,
interwoven into the fabric of his personality and demeanor. He
was a Jedi. That much would not change, despite the Council or
their edicts, or anything else. He could live the life, and
follow the ways, of the Jedi no matter where he was...or what
he faced.
His knees ached dreadfully as Obi-Wan roused himself from
meditation and stood painfully. His physical wounds were
healed. His heart was troubled, but lighter now that he
understood what it was he had to do. He hoped the Force was
guiding him, and not his own fear and pain. Soon enough, he
would know.
Qui-Gon Jinn stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, allowing
his mind to drift. Images of Obi-Wan filled his mind's eye at
once, on their last night together. He had allowed himself to
be possessed, and had possessed in equal measure. He wondered
if memories would be enough to hold him until he could devise a
way to break free.
He flashed back to Mace Windu's words inside the Council
chamber, and a sigh settled in his chest. Conscience...the
darkness of his spirit...such ambiguity, when in fact it seemed
so concrete. He was sure of his love for his Padawan. All else
was peripheral, as it had been from the moment Obi-Wan
disappeared. He'd been sure he loved the younger man long
before that day, but that urgent trembling of his heart had
coalesced into resolve and determination when he realized how
much his apprentice meant to him.
He wrestled daily, hourly, minute by minute with the ease of
his reach into the darkness, turning it over and handling it
delicately, careful of its power. He needed no counseling to
point the way for him. He knew the direction he would take. It
was just a matter of circumstances allowing him to back away
from the brink, so that he might take that step on his own. But
not until Obi-Wan was with him again.
A loud crash, and a short shout, sounded just outside the door.
Qui-Gon came to his feet, alarmed and wary, as the door slid
open to reveal Obi-Wan standing there. He deactivated his
lightsaber, stepping forward under the stunned gaze of his
Master, and smiled slightly. "One good turn deserves another,"
he said lightly, love shining clearly in his eyes.
The two men looked at one another, drinking in every detail -
until Qui-Gon broke the moment, reaching out to stroke a hand
over Obi-Wan's face, thumb drawing down his cheek, reaching
behind him to the small ponytail at the back of his neck. "Your
Padawan braid..." he said, voice shaky.
"Gone forever," the younger man answered steadily. He turned
his head, delivering his face into the large rough hand at the
side of it, and kissed Qui-Gon's palm. Qui-Gon's lips descended
on his, moving quickly over that much-missed territory. "We
should go, and quickly. Before an alarm is raised," Obi-Wan
said, looking back at the Jedi Knight slumped against the
doorway.
A small shiver of apprehension caught Qui-Gon by surprise. "You
didn't..." he began, hoping it wasn't true.
"He's alive," Obi-Wan said, even as he reached down to drag the
man inside the room. He took the small electronic key from the
Knight's deep pocket and tossed it to his Master, then
retrieved the Knight's saber and rounded the corner into the
hallway.
Qui-Gon followed, keying the collar and breaking it loose,
flinging it away as they continued down the hall. Obi-Wan
handed his Master the saber belonging to his former guard.
Qui-Gon held it loose in his hand, mirroring Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan had chosen to break out his Master at the deepest part
of the sleep cycle for good reason. The hallways were deserted
as they made their way to the small docking bays at the far end
of the temple. From there, they could take a shuttle to a
landing platform and find passage on any of several dozen
ships. They moved stealthily through the least populated and
seldom used areas of the Temple.
Qui-Gon pulled up short. "Wait...do you-"
"Yes," Obi-Wan hissed, igniting his saber as they approached
the door leading to the bay. Qui-Gon palmed the lock, and his
heart sank as the door slid open.
Mace Windu stood in the way, his saber ignited and held loosely
at his side. "I can't allow you to leave, Qui-Gon," he said
matter-of-factly. His eyes reflected a weary, immense sadness.
Qui-Gon regarded his old friend for a moment. "Don't do this,
Mace. One of us will not survive."
"Hand me the weapon," Windu said, extending his free hand.
"Step aside," Qui-Gon said evenly. They stood staring at one
another for what seemed an eternity, as the sound of Obi-Wan's
running footfalls echoed behind Qui-Gon, growing ever closer.
"The time for discussion is ended," Windu said. "Will you not
yield, and end this now?"
"You know the answer to that question," Qui-Gon said, powering
his lightsaber.
At an impasse, the three Jedi stood motionless, each waiting
for another to make the first move.
End
8/24/99
Yep. I told you it was a true cliffhanger! <g> The end is
in sight, though, very soon. Any thoughts about part four? I
would love to hear what you are feeling, and what you think...
destinaf@hotmail.com
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