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The Reward

by KatBear (katbear@cox.net)

Archive: MA, QJEB. Any others please ask.

Category: romance, a bit of adventure

Rating: PG13

Pairing: Q/O

Feedback: Appreciated.

Thanks: To the beta readers who helped with various comments and encouragement (HesperBlaze, Thalia). All mistakes are definitely my own since I can't resist tweaking.

Summary: Qui-Gon's attempt to do a good deed has unexpected consequences.

Warnings: A bit of language, sexual references and eventually a m/m relationship. If you don't like male-male relationships you are in the wrong place. No profit is intended or made.

Spoilers: None, pre-TPM.

Disclaimer: The boys belong to George Lucas; I'm just playing with them.

~ ~ Character internal thoughts

Qui-Gon was vaguely aware of the tuneless whistle coming from the kitchen where his apprentice was cleaning up after breakfast. He smiled softly at the underlying hum of contentment in their bond, a comforting background noise in his head as he went through his morning messages. Routine for the most part, few held his attention as his thoughts wandered over the upcoming activities of the day. The sudden flashing of a red-flagged message caused him to sit up straighter and lean forward, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Obi-Wan," he called out a few minutes later, "it looks like we have a mission coming up."

The sudden spike of dismay over the bond surprised him; there was no visible sign of distress except perhaps the slightest of hesitations before the dutiful response came back, "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon looked closely at his Padawan as he emerged from the small kitchen wiping his hands on a towel. Nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary; a young man entering the prime of life at twenty, short but strong and athletic, quietly confident demeanor, rusty sand braid neatly woven, blue-green eyes . . . . Ah, the eyes were a tad darker than usual, the shoulders barely drooped, and if he concentrated hard enough, Qui-Gon could detect a faint rumble of fatigue and resentment leaking across the bond.

"If you have the dates, Master, I will contact my instructors and get the assignments I will need to work on while we're gone," said Obi-Wan pleasantly, no hint of disturbance in voice or manner.

Qui-Gon was growing concerned. His Padawan had long ceased to complain about their exceptionally heavy duty load except for the occasional long-standing joke about his dislike for cold planets; even an unspoken protest was out of character these days. At the mention of dates, Qui-Gon automatically turned his attention to their joint calendar. Comparing the proposed mission dates to the existing entries, he almost missed it. A brief note in small letters five days from now, just Bant Nday, but it triggered a full recollection and his own pang of dismay. ~ How could I have forgotten! ~ he chastised himself. ~ It's almost the only thing he has talked about for the last two months. ~ Almost all of Obi-Wan's oldest friends were scheduled to be on Coruscant the next few weeks, a particularly rare event these days, and they had planned to get together to celebrate Bant's Nameday. Knowing how little Obi-Wan asked for himself and how much he had been looking forward to this special event, Qui-Gon made a sudden decision.

"Actually, I have some questions about this mission. Let me do some more research before you make any final plans," said Qui-Gon.

"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan. After neatly folding the towel and dropping it back on a kitchen counter, the young man paused by the terminal, carefully refraining from examining the screen. "Is there anything else I can do to prepare for the mission?"

"Thank you, but I think it would be better to wait until I have more information. I'll see you at fourteenth hour in the training hall for our sparring session."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan bowed and retreated to his room to gather his datapads for his morning classes.

Qui-Gon waited until his apprentice had left their quarters before turning back to the terminal. He sat quietly for several minutes as he reviewed the mission tasking and considered his options. The transport for this mission was scheduled to leave in two days, so whatever he was going to do must be done quickly. Working carefully, he composed a succinct message to the Mission Committee requesting a delay or change in missions, then reread it twice before transmitting. Noting that he still had time before the start of the seminar in which he was a panel member, Qui-Gon sent a courtesy note to his former Master to let him know he had asked for the change and why.

The day passed quietly enough for both Master and Padawan. Returning alone from the afternoon training session while Obi- Wan went to the library, Qui-Gon found his message light flashing. Anxiously pulling up the latest mail, he was disappointed to find that his request had been refused. He immediately called the Council secretariat to find out if he could get in to see the Council to appeal the decision.

"Ah, Master Jinn," said the pale, white-haired Knight who answered. "I am Knight Frajal. What can I do for you?"

Qui-Gon quickly explained his request and asked if there were any openings in the Council's schedule.

Apologetically, the Knight replied, "I am very sorry, Master Jinn. The Council has been quite busy all day and still has several more issues on their agenda this afternoon." The Knight paused thoughtfully, bushy brows drawn low over orange eyes. "If it is truly urgent, you can wait for an opening if you wish. It may be a few hours before they will see you." He coughed delicately, looking carefully around his space before continuing softly. "To be fair, Master Jinn, I have to tell you that the budget was the major item this morning and the discussion turned quite testy. Also, the last few agenda items are referrals from the disciplinary committee, which tends to mean that most of the Council members are not likely to be in a pleasant mood by the end of the day. Are you sure you really want to see them?"

Qui-Gon grimaced a bit. ~ They seldom seem to be in a good mood when I'm in the room. ~ Aloud, he replied, "I appreciate your consideration, but I'm afraid it is important that I see them today if possible. I will just have to take my chances, I suppose."

"As you wish, sir. I will enter your name on the list of appointments, Master Jinn." Smiling politely, the Knight terminated the call.

Qui-Gon left a note for Obi-Wan to let him know that he would be gone for a while and to go ahead and eat the latemeal without him. Deciding he may as well do something productive while he waited, Qui-Gon tucked some datapads into the pockets of his voluminous robe and set out for the Council chamber.

Four hours later Qui-Gon decided that the designer of the Council antechamber must have had a significant sadistic streak. Surely it was impossible for a wooden bench to actually be this hard without deliberate intent, and the acoustics of the room magnified every sound so that all of the occupants tended to quickly settle into an uncomfortable, unmoving silence. During those four hours the Master had watched the unfailingly polite Knight Frajal usher a parade of beings in and out of the Council chamber, and it seemed they almost all came out looking unhappier than when they went in. The large room was finally empty except for a large bear of a Master and his young humanoid Padawan. The boy sat with wide eyes downcast and hands nervously rubbing together as his master tried to soothe him with a paw on his shoulder. Remembering the secretary's earlier comment about the last items on the agenda being disciplinary cases, Qui-Gon felt a surge of sympathy for the lad as Knight Frajal came to escort them into the main chamber.

Shifting his weight in a vain attempt to restore some feeling to his numb posterior, Qui-Gon reminded himself why he was here, a subject he had been examining quite a bit the last few hours. Looking at the Master and Padawan across from him, Qui-Gon had been reminded of the many times in the last seven years he or he and his Padawan had sat in this same room, waiting for debriefings, orders or chastisement. Seven years of watching a gawky boy and an awkward relationship grow into a fine young man and a firmly grounded friendship. He smiled ruefully. It hadn't been easy by any stretch of the imagination; it seemed they both had a stubborn streak when it came to things they thought were important and Qui-Gon was all too aware of the discomfort his disagreements with the Council often caused his Padawan.

The smile warmed as Qui-Gon thought of his apprentice. Obi-Wan had proved to be a hard worker, devoted to the care of his Master, and a remarkably adept swordsman, even if occasionally a bit too theatrical for his Master's taste. He still had a lot to learn, of course, it would be several years before he was fully ready for his Trials, but Qui-Gon was secretly proud of the progress his Padawan had made as a person and as a Jedi. A fond light danced in the blue eyes as he thought about how much he enjoyed the close emotional relationship they had developed. Their bond was among the strongest of any in the Temple, and they had gone beyond the teacher-student relationship to become good friends, a deep friendship that transcended their occasional disagreements and the hardships of the Jedi life.

A large hand emerged from within the confines of the dark robe, knuckles rubbing thoughtfully along the edge of the bearded chin as a sigh escaped. Deep regrets often haunted his thoughts and dreams that they had never developed the physical intimacy so many other pairs enjoyed. The brief phase of hero worship at sixteen had quickly passed as Obi-Wan matured and explored his own sexuality, seemingly preferring the company of those within a few years of his own age. Although it was a disappointing development, Qui-Gon was nonetheless grateful that Obi-Wan seemed to be happy with the discreet, carefully chosen liaisons in which he now occasionally indulged. Even if it had not been forbidden for a master to initiate intimacy, his own unrequited feelings were something he would never force on his Padawan, however thorny it made his own life.

As his thoughts moved onward, a rueful snort echoed in the empty room as Qui-Gon crossed his arms on his chest. He slid down on his tailbone, long legs stretching out it in front of him as he cocked one booted ankle over the other. In some ways the last two or three years had been just as difficult if not more so than their first year for both of them; Obi-Wan was climbing the slippery slope from youth to young manhood at the same time that his training and their mission workload grew constantly more difficult. Both master and apprentice were coming to terms with their feelings and hormones in the midst of a seemingly endless stream of missions. The young man gained in confidence and patience as his skills improved and he learned to control and focus his emotional and physical urges while the older man adjusted to their changing relationship, giving more trust and freedom as the apprentice developed, encouraging him to think independently despite the occasional argument that resulted, and firmly locking his physical desires away into his personal cache of `might have beens'. Although more than once they had both doubted it was possible, in the end patience and perseverance had seen them both come through the difficult times relatively unscathed and stronger for the experience.

Another sigh as the tall Jedi sat up and shifted his weight once more, this time an expression of remorse as the blue eyes darkened. In the normal course of things there was little enough that Qui-Gon could do to reward his Padawan and show his appreciation; they were often so busy that a smile or a word of praise was all they had time for, and there were few material things the apprentice desired. Looking toward the Council doors, the chin came up and a resolute smile settled into place. Qui-Gon was determined to do his best to win one of the rarest and most treasured prizes he could for his Obi-Wan, time off with friends.

Qui-Gon stood up and stretched as he watched Knight Frajal open the wide doors to the Council chamber. The Master and Padawan came out, the boy sobbing openly as tears streamed down his face and the Master rumbling angrily under his breath.

The pair walked slowly through the anteroom, pausing beside Qui-Gon as the Master gathered his charge to his side. "You going in there?" he growled, a paw jerking disgustedly in the direction of the room he had just left.

"Yes, I am," Qui-Gon replied quietly.

"Watch yourself, then. The bloody bastards are in a right fine mood today." Snarling angrily, he tried to console his apprentice as they headed for the exit.

Knight Frajal smiled and shrugged apologetically. "You are the last appointment for the day, Master Jinn. The Council will see you now if you still want to go in."

Reminding himself firmly to be patient and hold his temper, Qui-Gon entered the Council chamber. He was immediately struck by the sense of discord and disharmony swirling through the Force. Taking a quick look around as he walked, he noted that Poof's head was weaving more erratically than usual, the normally placid Yaddle was glaring at Rancisis, Adi Gallia was sitting rigidly and staring determinedly out the window into the dark evening sky, and Yoda was huddled in his chair looking disgusted and every bit of his eight hundred plus years. Reaching the center of the room, Qui-Gon turned and bowed to the two senior Councilors, noting that Mace was uncharacteristically impatiently drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. ~ I would have to pick a budget day to have to ask for a favor ~ Qui-Gon sighed internally.

"Master Yoda, Master Windu, Councilors, good evening," said Qui-Gon politely.

"Master Jinn, you requested permission to speak to the Council. I assume it is about your earlier request to change your assigned mission?" said Windu brusquely.

"Yes, Master Windu. I would like to discuss the possibility of exchanging the mission or delaying it."

"You're the fifth one in the last two weeks complaining about his assignment. Do you think the Mission Committee just draws names out of a bowl for these?"

"No, Master Windu. I do not wish to complain, I just wanted to ask if we could make an adjustment."

"Same thing," growled Master Tiin. "Always complaining about things. What is there to discuss, Windu? We already know there aren't enough Knights available so he's got to go."

"Actually, I am not asking to be released from the mission, I don't mind going on the mission at all," said Qui-Gon.

"Then why are you here if there's no problem with the mission," grumped Master Koon. His expression was unreadable behind his mask, but there was a spike of impatience in the Force as he spoke.

"If I could just explain," said Qui-Gon patiently, "all I want is to delay the mission if that is possible."

"Not possible," said Windu flatly. "You have to be there for a specific set of ceremonies that start on the set date. There are representatives from four different systems involved and this must go off as scheduled."

"I understand, Master Windu. In that case, I would like to ask that my Padawan be excused from this mission," replied Qui-Gon.

"Again, not possible. The treaty obligations quite clearly call for a minimum of two Jedi. If that is all . . . ?"

"Well, no, Master Windu, surely there must be another solution."

"I want to know why his Padawan can't go with him," interjected Master Tiin. "I didn't see his name on the sick list or the mandatory training list, so it's his duty to go. I thought by now Kenobi was a little old to be whining about missions."

"Master Tiin, Padawan Kenobi did not complain about the mission. He is quite prepared to go and does not know that I am asking for the change," said Qui-Gon, reminding himself again that Patience is a Virtue.

"Well, I don't see what the fuss is about; just go on the mission. Force knows we're already spread thin with most of the Knights at the Veralian Temple down with an epidemic and more requests for assistance coming in all the time," said Master Piell.

"Yes, I agree. There is far too much work and not enough Knights to go around. And if the Senate doesn't increase the funding for our programs, we're not even going to be able to-" added Master Rancisis.

"Oh, please, don't start on that again," interrupted Master Koth wearily, rubbing his forehead and looking very pained. "I thought we finished that discussion this morning."

"Councilors, if you will let me explain . . .," Qui-Gon tried to get a quiet word in as the bickering threatened to expand.

"Order," snarled Windu, banging a hand down on the arm of his chair. "I know it has been a very long and very difficult day, but this is the last thing we have. Let him have his say and be done with it."

Qui-Gon waited patiently a moment for the grumbling to die down before he bowed again and started quietly. "Thank you, Master Windu. Please let me say first, that no one is trying to get out of anything. I will gladly do whatever work is necessary. My concern is for my Padawan. He is an excellent Padawan, as his performance and academic records will attest. He has made a great deal of progress in his studies despite being off planet frequently and has worked very hard toward his goal of becoming a Jedi Knight. I am concerned for him at the moment because we have worked exceptionally hard these last two years on a lot of difficult missions. In looking at our records, I found that we have been away over eighty percent of the time during those two years, and we just returned from another mission a few days ago. I believe that Padawan Kenobi has earned your consideration for some time off with his friends for a few days, many of whom he has not seen in years and may not be able to see again for months or years."

Pausing to look around the group, Qui-Gon made sure he still had everyone's attention before continuing. "Obi-Wan Kenobi has an excellent understanding of his duties, and he has fulfilled those duties without complaint to the point of serious injury as well as physical and mental exhaustion on many occasions. I would not be asking for this consideration if I did not believe absolutely that my Padawan has earned this rare opportunity for some small bit of personal pleasure and that it would be in his best interests for his long term personal well-being." He paused for a moment and spread his hands before continuing passionately. "We ask so much of our young people; can we never give them anything back in return?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, Qui-Gon felt a decrease in the angry, irritated Force swirls sweeping through the room and began to feel a faint bit of hope. That hope was quickly dashed, however.

"Master Jinn, I am sure everyone understands your concern for your Padawan. Both of you have been working very hard and are no doubt both long overdue for some well deserved time off," said Windu, an unspoken apology softening his voice. "But this is just not the right time and I'm afraid the answer must still be no. Perhaps after you get back we can do something for you then."

Qui-Gon stood silently for a moment, eyes downcast and heart heavy. Steeling himself for one last plea, he looked around the room for a moment, then drew a deep breath before replying to Mace. "I appreciate your consideration in hearing my request. This mission is supposed to last a month, however, and many of Obi-Wan's friends will have scattered again by the time we get back." Reminding himself that this was for Obi-Wan, he dropped to one knee. "Is there nothing at all that can be done? Please?"

The entire room was silent, even the Force eddies dying away. Whatever their opinions of the man or their past history of antagonism and mistrust, all of the Council members were touched by the sincerity of the plea. More than a few were also shocked that the infamous Qui-Gon Jinn would even be willing to humble himself before the Council to such an extent.

Ever compassionate, Master Billaba was the first to stir. "Master Windu, is there no other possible solution?"

Windu's fingers had stilled their silent drumming. "I am truly sorry, Qui-Gon. The Mission Committee did look closely at this assignment because it was so soon after you got back from your last mission. When you appealed, I reviewed it personally and was very concerned about pulling your Padawan out of his classes again so quickly. But we are having to cover a lot of the missions from here because of the illness at Verali, and I really don't have another qualified team that can leave in time."

Master Yoda finally stirred. "Perhaps a way there is," he rasped, looking thoughtfully at his former Padawan.

Everyone's eyes turned to the small Master.

"Master BayVelen the qualifications has. Available he can be."

"Well, his Padawan is a bit young but probably acceptable for the job. Master BayVelen, though, is teaching several Initiate courses in math and history right now. Who would replace him?" responded Windu.

"Today was Knight Whuyjor released from infirmary. Prevent him from teaching broken arm and leg will not."

Windu thought for a moment, brow furrowed, before replying carefully and slowly, "I agree he could teach now, but then that still leaves the question of that other mission, Master Yoda. We were going to require Knight Whuyjor to take that job as soon as he was physically able, although they have been pressing us for someone to come out much sooner than that."

As Qui-Gon stood and silently listened, there was a brief buzz of conversation around the room. Master Gallia spoke up, "Master Windu, we agreed that was a punitive mission. Surely you wouldn't ask Master Jinn to take it?"

Windu sighed as he looked at Master Yoda. "Well?" he asked softly, raising one eyebrow.

Yoda sat up straight, tapped his stick, then looked up at Qui-Gon. "Master Jinn, a mission for one Jedi there is, only one Jedi can go, but unpleasant it will be, very unpleasant indeed. Interested, are you?"

Qui-Gon responded without hesitation, "If it means Obi-Wan can stay here, I will take the mission, Master."

Windu shook his head. "I wouldn't jump so fast, my friend. The mission is on Diozak and you would be staying in an old church with almost no amenities at the height of the hot season. The three major clans there are highly paranoid but had finally agreed to an election supervised by Republic troops. Now that the election is over, though, they are so paranoid they don't trust anyone to count the final ballots, so all the ballots are in locked boxes in this church being guarded by Republic and local troops while they wait for a Jedi to show up to do the counting. All three clans would have people watching you the entire time you are there, and I do mean literally watching you every second of the day and night."

"I can handle that," said Qui-Gon confidently.

"That's not the worst part." Mace looked at Yoda again before turning back to Qui-Gon and continuing softly. "They are so paranoid and fearful that they asked for a Jedi but will only allow one. And while you are on their planet, they require that you wear a visible Force restraining collar except when you are actually in the vault counting ballots."

"Oh," said Qui-Gon weakly, the silence in the room almost deafening as he felt a sour taste rising in the back of his throat. Yoda looked at him sympathetically; knowing how connected to the Living Force his Padawan was, Yoda was particularly aware how difficult it would be for him to be deprived of it.

Qui-Gon licked his lower lip. "Obi-Wan does get to stay here, yes?" he finally asked, looking at Windu and Yoda.

"Yes. If you take this mission, your Padawan stays here. Since you will actually be doing us a favor if you take this mission immediately, we will also try to get both of you some time off together after his finishes his exams for his current classes," replied Windu. Yoda nodded in agreement.

Swallowing hard and telling his stomach to keep its contents to itself, Qui-Gon bowed. "I will take the mission. When do I leave?" Qui-Gon felt an almost palpable sigh of relief from the Council members resonate through the Force.

"The Senate has already agreed to provide a Republic courier ship for this job. The ship is at dock 32. We will notify the pilot to be ready to leave at seventh hour in the morning. I will have the mission details sent to you within an hour."

"I will be there. Thank you." Qui-Gon bowed to the Council again, then swiftly made his way out of the chamber before he could change his mind.

Obi-Wan was diligently studying at their small table when Qui-Gon returned to their quarters. The young man immediately got up to take his Master's cloak, then went to the kitchen to prepare tea while Qui-Gon went to the terminal to check his messages. Qui-Gon could feel the curiosity buzzing along the bond as Obi-Wan brought out a steaming cup of hot tea. Despite a brief grimace of affectionate exasperation, the questions went unasked as his apprentice had long since learned that the Master would dispense information in his own good time. After finishing his messages and setting up his mail to let his correspondents know he was offplanet, Qui-Gon took the rest of his tea and sat on the low couch. For several minutes he simply sat and relaxed, enjoying the anticipation as he watched the young man unsuccessfully trying to concentrate on his studies and ignore his Master's gaze.

Finally relenting as he watched the apprentice shift in his chair yet again, Qui-Gon called out, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Padawan, come here, please."

Obi-Wan swiftly came over to stand in front of his master, hands behind his back, outwardly the picture of a perfect Padawan. Now that he knew what to look for, however, Qui-Gon could detect the tense undercurrent of trepidation. "Yes, Master."

"I was able to get more information on the mission. I think you will be pleased to know that you will be able to attend Bant's Nameday celebration after all."

Basking in the radiant smile and huge surge of joy from his ecstatic apprentice, Qui-Gon almost thought he could see an aura around the young man, so powerful were the feelings of happiness he was unconsciously projecting. "That's wonderful, Master. That's about the best news I've had in ages. Just wait till I tell Bant, I'm sure she'll love to hear about it too." Obi-Wan turned to head toward the terminal with a light step, then paused. "The first part of the Nameday party is for everyone, including Masters. Can I tell Bant that you'll be coming, Master? We'd really like to have you there."

Qui-Gon smiled gently. "I would like to attend, but there is actually still a mission leaving shortly, it's just that I will be going by myself."

Obi-Wan paled as he dropped to his knees in front of Qui-Gon, the sudden conflict of feelings evident on his face. "But Master, if you have a mission, my place is at your side. It is my duty."

"Well, normally we would both go, of course. This assignment, though, is to go to Diozak to help resolve an election dispute and I'm afraid they will only allow one Jedi to come to their planet."

Over their bond, Qui-Gon could feel the elation battling with the guilt. Obi-Wan put his hands on Qui-Gon's knees. "Master, I should be with you, I want to be with you," he half whispered, anxiety turning his eyes dark.

"I know," said Qui-Gon gently. He leaned over to rumple the short hair, then gathered the smaller hands into his and held them. "It's only for three or four weeks, Obi-Wan. Mostly I'll just be the outside observer counting votes for them so it's not really dangerous. I suspect it will probably be quite boring, actually." Qui-Gon smiled, trying to draw an answering response.

"There must be a way I can go with you, Master," said Obi-Wan, looking stubbornly into his Master's eyes. "That is where I belong, at your side. It doesn't seem right not to be there."

"No, Obi-Wan. The Diozakans are quite adamant, I'm afraid." Qui-Gon squeezed the other's hands, smiling and sending reassurance over the bond. "Don't worry, Padawan, I'll be back before you know it, working you harder than ever."

A half smile, a quick duck of the head. "Yes, Master. I'll take care of things back here."

"I know you will. But as long as you have to stay here anyway, I want you to promise me that you will enjoy yourself with your friends."

"Yes, Master," was the dutiful reply, but his heart wasn't entirely in it.

Qui-Gon released the hands to gently tip up the downcast face. "I'm serious, Obi-Wan. Of course I would like to have you with me, and I'll miss you, but it is not your fault you can't go on the mission, so there is no point in wasting time and energy on pointless feelings of guilt. Live in the moment and accept this gift from the Force. I want you to enjoy the party for both of us, and I expect to hear all about it when I get back. Promise?"

This time the smile was genuine. "Yes, Master." One hand reached up to grasp Qui-Gon's hand affectionately. "I promise to enjoy myself if you promise me you will take care of yourself, Master," Obi-Wan said firmly. There was a stubborn glint in his eyes as both hands then moved to grasp the Master's shoulders. "And I will hold you to that promise."

"Yes, Padawan," laughed Qui-Gon as he drew the young man up for a hug. It was not until much later that Qui-Gon would find out just how seriously Obi-Wan took that promise.

Obi-Wan rose early the next morning to prepare a special breakfast for his Master, afterwards carrying Qui-Gon's travel pack to the departure dock. Tucked safely inside Qui-Gon's cloak was a small locked box that he had picked up from the Training Master's vault. Not wanting his apprentice to be concerned, Qui-Gon had slipped out the previous evening while Obi-Wan was packing to obtain a Force dampening collar that was normally used only for special training exercises. Master and Padawan exchanged their final farewells at the foot of the battered courier ship's landing ramp.

A week later, Qui-Gon thought fondly back on that farewell as he watched the planet of Diozak grow larger in the viewport. It seemed that was the last time anything had gone right on what should have been a simple three day outbound journey. The Republic courier ship had lived up to its battered appearance; only a day out the main engines had seized up and quit. They had drifted for almost a full day before another ship responded to their distress signal; unfortunately it was a small one man vessel. Since his ship was too small to give them a tow, the pilot agreed to relay their message to the next planet he came across. While drifting for another half day, more components failed, notably in the air regeneration system; by the time an old freighter took them in tow the air was starting to get pretty ripe. The planet they ended up on was relatively low tech, and they could not get all the parts they needed. By dint of much sweat, ingenuity and some Force help from Qui-Gon, the five-being crew managed to patch up enough of the propulsion system to get them off planet and headed back for Diozak. Six days out from Coruscant they were limping along, the air smelling like old socks, the engines clanging and racketing at unpredictable intervals, the water leaving a metallic tang in the back of their throats and the only untainted food stocks an indeterminate grain cereal and several cases of legume soup. By the time they reached Diozak on the seventh day everyone was irritated, and even Qui-Gon had a headache from the noisome air. The pilot wanted to depart for a major repair base as soon as he dropped off his passenger, so while they were descending Qui-Gon sent off a report to the Council and a private message to his Padawan that they had arrived, he was safe and was about to meet with the native delegations.

When they set down, Qui-Gon was more than ready to disembark. Hoisting his travel pack, he was met by a blast of hot, humid air as the door opened. Looking out, he saw several dozen of what were evidently representatives of the three major clans and a lone figure in a Republic Marine officer's dull green field uniform. All those present were variations of reptilian species. The natives were generally short, although the tallest group, a more desert-adapted looking group with dry wrinkled brown-green skin in light khaki uniforms, came almost to Qui-Gon's shoulder. There seemed to be little to distinguish between the others except perhaps the ones in the dull brown uniforms seemed to have longer tails and snouts with more mottled greenish coloring than the bulbous-eyed ones in black uniforms. Recalling his mission notes, he decided the khaki uniforms must be Clan Jyewv, the brown uniforms must be Clan Tbanz and the black uniforms must be Clan Kovaz. As he got closer, Qui-Gon noted that the Marine bore quite a resemblance to a Mon Calamarian, but the head wasn't as large and the eyes were set much higher and deeper.

The Marine officer met him at the foot of the landing ramp. "Major Shaylass, Republic Marines. You are the Jedi observer, I hope."

"Master Qui-Gon Jinn, from the Jedi Temple at Coruscant. Yes, Major, I am here to help finalize the election results," replied Qui-Gon with a small bow.

"About time, too. The locals aren't the only ones getting twitchy. Excuse me a moment, I have to turn in the outgoing mail and get the incoming stuff from the pilot before he runs out on us." Hefting a large box, he started toward the ramp. "Oh, yeah, I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I were you. Most of the locals are scared spitless about having a big, bad Jedi running around loose, and those are real guns they're all carrying." With a wink, the Major trotted up the ramp.

The Jedi Master was left standing in the hot sun to mull over that breezy introduction for a good fifteen minutes. Noticing that all three groups seemed to be watching each other as carefully as they were eyeing him and that there were an awful lot of appendages hovering very close to a lot of triggers, he was particularly careful not to make any moves at all.

Qui-Gon heard the thud of boots coming down the landing ramp but was not prepared for the hearty slap on the back that almost staggered him. He took an involuntary step forward but quickly righted himself as he heard numerous hands slapping leather and safeties being clicked off. He glanced around and saw a grinning Major Shaylass with a drab green duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Transport is this way, Master Jinn," the Major boomed as he took Qui-Gon's arm with his free hand. "Don't pay any attention to them. The official delegation will meet you at the church," he muttered sotto voce as they marched steadfastly toward a dirty green high-wheeled armored vehicle. The top was retracted and Qui-Gon saw that there was already a trio of armed locals in the third bench seat, one from each clan. Major Shaylass threw the duffel bag onto the second seat, then helped Qui-Gon up to sit next to it. He walked around the vehicle and hopped up into the front seat next to the driver. They took off with a roaring jerk, followed closely by an assorted trio of smaller wheeled vehicles.

The Major turned around in his seat to talk to Qui-Gon. "I hope you realize what sort of mess you're in for, Master Jinn. This is a hot, miserable stinking place and the locals are about the most paranoid bunch of misbegotten idiots I've ever seen," he said casually, raising his voice to be heard over the rumble of the engine. "Took years to get them to agree to a frapping election and then they don't trust each other to count the votes." He shook his head in disgust.

"How long have you been here?" Qui-Gon asked.

"When we started six months ago, we had a whole battalion of Marines here to oversee the election, and two months ago they left my company here to guard the ballots. Everywhere you turn, there's a bunch of locals underfoot, either watching you or watching each other. Can't even take a leak without practically tripping over the little bastards."

Qui-Gon glanced behind him at the three reptilians wedged unhappily onto the back seat.

Noticing the Jedi's concerned expression, the Marine barked a short laugh. "Don't worry about them. We all figured out months ago none of us care for each other's guts or trust each other any further than I can throw this vehicle." He grinned toothily as he continued, "Besides, they don't hear all that well. See in the dark, yeah, just like a rezcat, but they respond better to vibration than actual sound. Keep that in mind when you meet the mucky-mucks because you'll need to talk pretty loudly to get through to them."

"Thanks for the advice," replied Qui-Gon dryly.

The Major's expression turned serious as he gestured for Qui-Gon to lean closer. "Look, Master Jinn, this is a miserable assignment on a wretched little hellhole of an insignificant little pissant planet. We're here because we've orders to obey, but that doesn't mean we like it. My people know they can't leave until you finish your job and certify the vote. They'll protect you from any interference from the locals, but they're going to be watching just as close to make sure you don't screw anything up. You're not going to have a very easy time of it, I'm afraid."

"Well, as you say, we all have our orders to obey," Qui-Gon smiled a little. "I'll do my best to make sure we can all get out of here as quickly as possible."

Major Shaylass looked at the Jedi Master intently for a long moment, then nodded as if answering a question to himself. The rest of the journey passed relatively quickly as the Marine officer briefed Qui-Gon on the people and situation he would be facing.

The huge church looked more like a rocky fortress sitting at one end of a small valley, rising from the bank of a wide brown river as if it had grown there. As one of the few neutral sites on the planet, it had been the natural choice for a repository for the election ballots until a neutral counter arrived. As they pulled up in the main courtyard, Qui-Gon was surprised to notice a very faint trace of Force energy from somewhere in the structure, since few of the natives were known to have any Force abilities. Dismounting from the vehicle, he also noticed with distaste a spike of fear and disgust from the assembled troops. Straightening his sweat-soaked tunics, he could feel more than see the weapons in the upper windows that were trained on the new arrivals. A small squad of Marines fell in smartly behind them as Qui-Gon and the Major headed up a long flight of stone stairs toward the massive doors.

Major Shaylass smiled reassuringly as the doors began to swing open. "Remember, it's the religious leaders who have the power in this situation since they have possession of the ballots; they'll push hard if you let them get away with any shit. Every year they rotate the head position among the three clans; Clan Kovaz just took over a few weeks ago, and they particularly dislike outsiders. It was his predecessor from Clan Jyewv that pushed through the decision to ask for a Jedi to come in."

Qui-Gon only had time to nod as the group swept through the door and headed down a central aisle between rows of wooden benches. It was relatively dark and only nominally cooler. The atmosphere was oppressive; still air, dark hangings, troops along the walls and in the balconies. They pulled up at the end of the aisle, facing a small group of civilians.

"Welcome to Diozak, Master Jinn," said a tall willowy female in a long khaki dress. "I am Jer'sardt, head of Clan Jyewv." She gestured to her companions. "This is Tre'chobtez, head of Clan Tbanz." The eyes blinked rapidly as the mottled head inclined slightly. "And this is Kolnisheq, head of Clan Kovaz." Bulbous eyes stared at the Jedi Master, distaste evident in the dismissive wave of the black gloved hand.

"Jer'sardt, Tre'chobtez, Kolnisheq," replied Qui-Gon quietly with a small bow. "It is my honor to serve the people of Diozak."

"No doubt," said a thin voice dryly as a small entourage of beings in dark red robes entered from behind a set of hangings at the front of the church.

"Master Jinn, allow me to introduce the heads of the Nevinchay. They have the keeping of the ballots and will help oversee the counting," said Jer'sardt. "This is Nevarch Kygaro, Nevek Jor'vebn and Nevek Tan'liw."

Qui-Gon bowed again as he repeated the names politely. "I look forward to working with you to complete the task before us."

The Nevarch drew himself up and looked coldly at the Jedi. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that he was little more than half Qui-Gon's height but he carried on nonetheless. "Let us be very clear on a few things, Jedi. You are here for one purpose, to make the official count. You will carry out that duty as quickly as possible and then leave."

Qui-Gon nodded and replied coolly. "It is always my intention to carry out my duties as efficiently and expeditiously as possible."

"While you are here, you will not leave this building, nor will you contaminate others with your presence or words. Did you bring the required device, Jedi?" snarled the Nevarch.

"If you are referring to the Force dampening collar, yes," replied Qui-Gon impassively, determined to maintain a stoic front despite the obvious attempts at provocation. He removed the silver collar from the case. Simply holding the device in his hand caused an unpleasant tingling.

"We will test the device now," said the Nevarch. He gestured imperiously and two red robed priests appeared from a side door, a slight green figure shuffling between them. Qui-Gon was surprised to notice a low level of Force awareness in the native, clearly untrained, but definitely there. The Nevarch turned to Qui-Gon. "You will place the device on this servant."

"He is Force sensitive, Nevarch Kygaro. The effect will be quite unpleasant for an untrained being," said Qui-Gon, working hard to maintain a neutral expression.

"That is the point," said the Nevarch coolly. "To prove the device works it must be used on one who will react. This servant is expendable. Get on with it or leave."

Qui-Gon nodded just as coolly, again refusing to be drawn in by the challenge. The feelings of support he sensed emanating from the assembled Marines helped counteract the fear and hatred from the natives as well as the disgust roiling his gut as he bent to snap the collar around the unsuspecting servant's neck.

The high pitched scream echoed off the stone walls as the poor expendable dropped to the floor, hands scrabbling uselessly at the silver collar. Within a few moments the screaming had turned into a low moan as the servant curled into a fetal position, hands clutching his head. One of the priests prodded him with a foot; eliciting no response from the victim, the priest looked at the Nevarch and nodded.

"You may remove the collar now," said the Nevarch. Qui-Gon knelt to comply, pausing for a moment to send a surge of soothing Force energy to the stricken being, then stood back as the two priests dragged the mumbling servant away. The Nevarch continued, "The terms of the visit were explained to you?"

The Jedi Master stared down the sneering reptilian for a long moment, letting a hint of distaste flash across his face before nodding slightly. "While I am engaged in my duties of counting the vote in the vault, there will be guards and observers but no other restraints. Outside the vault, I agree to wear the device and remain under observation until I return to my transport and we are off the planet."

"Very well then, put it on," replied the Nevarch with expectant derision.

Major Shaylass' solid presence at his side was very comforting as Qui-Gon slowly raised the shiny band. The click of the closing latch was almost deafening in the heavy silence that reigned in the hall. The Jedi Master drew heavily on his years of training and experience to sustain a totally stoic expression as he was cut off from the Force. Inside his guts were churning, bile was creeping up his throat, and he felt a suffocating blanket of dullness descend upon his senses, but he was damned if he was going to give the Nevarch the satisfaction of even the slightest flicker of discomfort. He maintained eye contact with the religious leader the whole time, letting the silence linger for a few moments before serenely speaking.

"If there is nothing further, Nevarch Kygaro, I believe we are all interested in having the vote count completed as quickly as possible."

Bulbous eyes dark with suppressed fury, the Nevarch searched fruitlessly for any sign of pain or fear on the Jedi's face. Even with his connection to the Force cut off, Qui-Gon could sense that the reptile was sorely tempted to challenge the efficacy of the collar, despite the evidence of the earlier demonstration. For several more moments the hall was silent as the two tried to stare each other down.

The tableau was finally broken when the political leaders stepped back in. "Since the whole purpose of Master Jinn's presence is to get the votes counted, I would suggest we get on with it," said Jer'sardt quietly.

"I agree," added Tre'chobtez, "the sooner he finishes, the sooner he can leave."

"Fine," snarled the Nevarch. "We will go to the vault now."

Qui-Gon merely nodded and joined the procession as they headed for a side door. He was satisfied that he had established his own authority and that was sufficient for the moment.

Twelve meters long, six meters across, four meters high, the windowless holding room in the lower level was dry and relatively cool. One long wall was lined with locked, sealed gray metal ballot boxes; there were two narrow wooden tables down the middle with four simple low back chairs; and eight tally boards, one for each of the eight central elective offices being contested.

"As you saw, Master Jinn, the priests hold the keys to the outer door," said Jer'sardt. "There has been a continuous guard on the door since the ballot boxes were placed here which includes the Federation Marines and members from each clan. The room will continue to be guarded until the results are certified."

After entering the room Qui-Gon had taken off the restraining collar. As he was placing it in its case, the Nevarch pointed imperiously at a small vault just inside the door.

"The device will be locked in here to ensure that it is not switched for a fake," he sneered. "My representative will unlock the vault so you may put on the device whenever you leave this room."

Qui-Gon nodded briefly, deliberately ignoring the implied insult to his honesty, and placed the case within the vault. He watched dispassionately as a priest closed and locked the heavy container.

"There are four observers who will be present as you count the votes, Master Jinn, one from each clan and a priest." Tre'chobtez continued the introduction after the brief interruption. "One box at a time will be unsealed, you will count the votes on each ballot in the box and mark the ballot as counted, the observers will verify it, and the results will be added to the tally boards. Once you have finished a box, the completed ballots will be put back in the box, the box will be locked, resealed and marked, then put against the other wall."

"Sounds very straightforward. The tally boards appear to be of the abacus type and simple to use. I assume there is a way to lock them down each night?" asked Qui-Gon.

"Of course," said Kolnisheq scornfully. "You don't think we would overlook such a simple detail?"

"I am sure you have taken everything into account, I merely wished clarification as to the procedure," said Qui-Gon soothingly. He felt so much better with the collar removed that he would have willingly put up with a great deal of local attitude but was more interested in getting things moving. "Is there a sample ballot I could examine?"

"Of course," said Jer'sardt. She drew a package from a cargo pocket, then pulled out a large white pasteboard sheet. "As you can see, there are eight boxes, one for each elective office. Within each box, the candidates' names are listed and there is a place to mark the ballot. You do not have to enter a vote for every office, but you can enter only one vote for each office. More than one vote for an office invalidates the ballot."

"But only invalidates the ballot for that office," interjected Kolnisheq sharply. "Votes for other offices on that same ballot can still be counted."

"That is correct," replied Jer'sardt with a touch of irritation.

"And the mark must be within the designated space using only the black markers," added Kolnisheq.

"Yes, yes, we know all that," said Tre'chobtez acidly.

"I was just helping to explain the rules," replied Kolnisheq testily.

"I think I understand," interrupted Qui-Gon hastily, not wanting the discussion to disintegrate. "Unless there is anything further, I would like to get started."

"Now?" asked Kolnisheq uncertainly, caught off guard.

"The sooner we start, the sooner we finish," replied Qui-Gon firmly. He took off his cloak and laid it aside, then pulled a ballot box from the stack and placed it on a table. He watched the group look questioningly at each other as he gathered up red markers and a seal cutter.

"I agree," said the Nevarch firmly. "The observers are here, the Jedi is here, so let them get on with it." He did not wait for any discussion but turned and left. The others followed in a group, none willing to let any of the others linger behind.

Major Shaylass had been leaning silently against the wall, observing the proceedings with a sardonic expression. He sauntered over as Qui-Gon waited for the four observers to organize themselves.

"Not bad," said the Major with a smile. "I take it you gathered that the Nevarch doesn't care for Jedi?"

"I got that general impression," Qui-Gon replied wryly. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for him."

"That was a good move, starting right away like that. Nothing like a good offense to keep them off balance," said the Major approvingly. "Are you going to be all right down here?"

"I think so. It would be easier if we could have food and water brought here instead of leaving to eat."

"I'll arrange it," the Major assured him. He hesitated a moment as he looked thoughtfully at the Jedi. "Master Jinn, I know a little bit about the Force and I've heard how importantit is to a trained Jedi. That was a pretty impressive show you put on for the Nevarch, but it's going to take quite a while to count all those ballots. Are you sure you're going to be all right when you put that freaking collar on every night?"

"I appreciate the concern," replied Qui-Gon reassuringly. "I'll admit that it certainly isn't pleasant, but I'll survive. Consider it an incentive to get the job done as quickly as possible."

"I guess it would be, at that," said the Marine with an answering smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"If you have a separate communications system, I would appreciate it very much if you could send a message to the Temple on Coruscant to let them know I have started the mission. I should also send periodic status reports if possible."

"Our long-range comm gear is on it's last legs, seeing as how parts are awful hard to come by out this way, but as long as it's working we'll send whatever messages you need," said Shaylass.

"Thank you."

"See ya later," the Marine waved a salute in the Jedi's general direction as he headed out the door.

Blanket tossed aside, stripped to his shorts, Qui-Gon could feel sweat trickling as he tried to sleep. In the semi- darkness he could see the four guards that had accompanied him since they left the vault, three natives to watch him and a Marine to watch the natives. The Nevinchay was a relatively austere order and individual rooms, for both priests and visitors, were little more than a stone cell with a sleeping pallet, chair and small table. The pallet was too short for Qui-Gon to stretch out fully, the air was hot and still, and the plentiful native insects were not shy about making themselves at home, although the natives seemed to ignore their presence. With the collar in place, he felt dull and half alive, his senses smothered. The night passed slowly as he caught fitful snatches of sleep, and he had difficulty meditating when he rose at first light. Eating a light breakfast of cereal and fruit, he reminded himself why he was here. Thoughts of his Padawan cheered him until he remembered how many boxes he had to get through before he could return home.

Qui-Gon's days soon settled into a steady pattern. The high point of the day was entering the vault and removing the collar. The native observers and guards stayed at one end of the room, a Marine positioned himself in the middle of the room, and Qui-Gon retreated to the other end of the room to meditate for twenty minutes. The first morning there was some grumbling by the priest, but after the Marine casually thumbed off the safety on his weapon and took aim at the general region of the priest's privates everyone was quite content to wait until the Jedi Master declared he was ready to start.

Most of the day's activities consisted of opening a sealed box, verifying the count on the ballots cast by the head of each family, entering the tally ballot by ballot, and sealing the counted ballots back into the box. Major Shayless had managed to persuade or cajole the natives into bringing most of the noon and evening meals to the vault so Qui-Gon could stay inside without the Force dampener. Occasionally the day would be livened up somewhat when there was a dispute over the markings on a ballot, but Qui-Gon quickly learned not to let the discussion linger lest it become too rancorous. His authority to swiftly resolve disputes was enhanced by the fact that the Marines seemed to take a great interest in his welfare and were more than happy to bring their weapons to bear on his behalf. Qui-Gon suspected that their real interest was in getting off the planet as soon as possible, but was willing to take whatever help he could get. Once a day Jer'sard or one of the other clan heads would stop by to check on progress but they seemed happy to just let him get on with his work as quickly as possible. The Nevarch came by every other day and occasionally insisted Qui-Gon join the priests for evening meal, but outside the vault he seemed more interested in watching the Jedi Master for any sign of discomfort from the collar than in being hospitable.

One of the most exciting events of the whole stay occurred on the fourth day when Major Shayless came in with lunch and spent a good ten minutes cussing a blue streak, swearing in at least seven different languages and drawing an admiring glance from the corporal on duty. When he finally calmed down, the Marine explained that their long-range comm had died, there were no spare parts left, and the next fleet ship wasn't due in for five weeks. He apologized for the situation, indicating he had already asked the natives to send their messages out for them, but the local comm gear was not very sophisticated and the natives not particularly trustworthy, so he couldn't guarantee that any of the reports were actually getting to their intended destinations. If necessary, he would send a squad back to the spaceport to commandeer some airtime on their equipment, but recommended against that unless there was a major emergency. Qui-Gon sighed and thanked him for his efforts, adding the lack of communications to the list of reasons why he would be very glad to see the last of the planet Diozak.

Progress was marked by the slow but steady progression of locked boxes from one side of the holding room to the other, a slow weight loss and the increasing percentage of the tall body that was stricken with a red rash from the insects who found his relatively thin, non-reptilian skin far more attractive than the tough hides of the natives. The hot, Forceless nights were so miserable that food was of little interest, and Qui-Gon soon drove himself to work eighteen to twenty hours out of each twenty-six hour rotation. The Nevarch wanted him off the planet so badly that after the third day he persuaded the others to begin rotating shifts of vote observers to keep up with the Jedi Master. Between the long hours and a lack of appetite, the Jedi found himself losing weight, even though he forced himself to eat enough to at least maintain his strength.

Qui-Gon knew when he accepted it that this mission would be unpleasant, but had not realized just how dismal it would truly be. He expected that the conditions would be bad but bearable and was mostly correct in that assumption; the constant guard was irritating, the insects that found him irresistible were a nuisance, the hot sticky nights left him feeling tired and grungy, the trickle of water that passed for a shower was aggravating and he missed his apprentice. His extensive training made the Force deprivation painful but survivable. What he had not expected, however, was how severely the sundering of his link to Obi-Wan would distress him. For years his Padawan had been an almost constant presence in his mind, a warm and comforting presence, a light that grew steadily brighter as their relationship deepened. The first few nights Qui-Gon had been so overwhelmed by the loss of his connection to the Force that he had not realized what else was making him miserable. As he grew accustomed to the stifling grayness of Forcelessness, he grew aware that there was an ache inside, a hole in his heart that no passage of time could heal, a hole that was normally filled by his Obi-Wan. He found that he could not resolve the pain, only endure it.

On the fifth night Qui-Gon was momentarily shoved out his personal misery when he suddenly realized how terribly selfish he had been in not even considering the impact the situation must be having on his Padawan, especially since the first cutting of the link must have been totally unexpected. Now added to his pain was guilt for not having the foresight or trust to explain the mission more fully to his apprentice; as much as he wanted to see Obi-Wan again, he was not looking forward to having to explain what he had done.

The emotional pain was soon accompanied by physical pain as his fitful dreams seemed to center more and more on his absent apprentice. The dreams became increasingly erotic and the mornings that he did not find evidence of a wet dream it seemed his morning erection became harder and harder to dispel. He knew he would need major meditation later but for now it was all he could to struggle through the situation and try to ignore the vivid images which came to fill his nights. The days were better than the nights; his connection to Obi-Wan was restored each time he took the collar off. Even heavily muted by distance, he felt revived by the contact, as if he had been dying of thirst and had been given water. After a while, though, he began to wonder if perhaps it might not be better to have no connection at all instead of the fresh agony each night when the collar clicked and the hole in his heart grew a little deeper, the ache a little sharper.

Instead of time dulling the hurt, quite the opposite happened. The longer he was on Diozak the more painful it became, and by the third week it required a concerted effort of will each night to impassively place the dampener around his neck under the watchful eye of the priests. To top everything off, he was increasingly anxious about not receiving any messages from Coruscant, and was becoming more certain that the Diozakans were either unwilling or incapable of sending the status reports he had asked be sent to the Temple. All in all, this was definitely one of worst missions he had been on in years.

However painful it might be, there was still a job to be done, and Qui-Gon was not one to allow personal issues to interfere with his duty. He persevered, one day at a time, one box at a time, ballot by ballot. Finally, early on the twenty-eighth day, under the watchful eyes of the three clan heads and the Nevarch, they added the last votes to the tally boards and resealed the last box. Major Shayless mobilized two squads of Marines for a convoy back to the capitol city while Qui-Gon prepared his certification report. The Nevarch insisted on riding back in the same vehicle with Qui-Gon and Major Shayless, ostensibly to help safeguard the report. In the new central government meeting hall, it took less than an hour for the Jedi Master to present his report to the clan delegations and attest to the validity of the results.

In the hot stillness of the evening, the Marine and the Jedi slowly walked through the terminal towards the exit to the tarmac of the spaceport.

"You could take that damned collar off now and they wouldn't know the difference," ventured the Major quietly.

"I would know," replied Qui-Gon softly. "I agreed to the conditions, and that includes leaving it on until I get off the planet."

They walked in silence a while longer, stopping just outside the building.

"I'd offer you a ride in the fleet transport, but it won't be here for several days," offered Major Shayless apologetically. "I've got some of my men holding the only other ships that are in port right now, but I'm afraid neither is much of a prize."

"I've learned not to be choosy, believe me," smiled Qui-Gon. "Whatever is ready to leave now and is heading back to Coruscant will be perfect."

"Well then, there's a cargo freighter with a couple of decent passenger cabins, big and slow, four stops between here and Coruscant," said Shayless. "The other ship is fast, only one stop, but she carries exotic animals and there isn't any passenger accommodation."

"I've slept with animals before, if that's what it takes to get back home faster," replied Qui-Gon with an even bigger grin. "I've found they're often cleaner than the crew and don't bother you with questions."

The Marine laughed and pointed toward a small ship partially hidden behind a bulk freighter. As they walked towards it, he turned serious again. They paused at the foot of the ramp.

"Ya know, Jinn, before this mission I have to admit I never really put all that much credence in that Jedi and Force stuff," said Major Shayless with a shrug. "I always figured a squad of Marines, a big enough gun and a badass attitude was enough to handle anything. I've watched you put up with a lot of shit, though, a lot more than I would have, but you just kept on plowing ahead until you got the job done without anybody getting hurt along the way. I could tell it wasn't easy for you, especially at night, but you never bitched about anything." He put a hand out to the Jedi. "You're a good man, Jinn, and the troops asked me to tell you you're welcome to join us if you're ever out our way."

"Thank you, Major," replied Qui-Gon as they shook hands. "I appreciate that. And I'd like to thank you and your people for all the help you provided. I would have had a much more difficult time here without you."

"Just doing our job," said the Major briskly. "I know you have good reason to want to leave quickly, so I'll let you get going. Good voyage to you, sir." He stood at attention and saluted.

"May the Force be with you," replied Qui-Gon. He returned the salute and headed up the ramp.

The five-day trip home was uneventful if rather pungent. The little Verellin who captained the vessel wasn't happy about having a passenger forced on him but acquiesced when he saw that the Jedi required very little support. There were no passenger cabins so Qui-Gon used the limited common crew shower and eating facilities and was content to sleep in a small partition in the cargo area. The exotic animals they carried as cargo were expensive and well cared for so the ship was clean and free of insects, even if it was quite fragrant. With the Force dampener removed, Qui-Gon was able to devote some extended time for a healing trance to finally get rid of the mass of insect bites and welts he had acquired. He spent much of the week meditating or simply reveling in the pleasure of having his bond with Obi-Wan restored, spending long hours examining his feelings for the young man, trying to understand the depth of those feelings and wondering how he had come to take their bond so much for granted. The erotic dreams had mostly disappeared once the collar was removed, but Qui-Gon still spent many additional hours meditating on their significance, hoping it was merely the Force trying to address his long suppressed physical attraction to Obi-Wan. As they drew nearer to Coruscant he began composing a suitable apology to his apprentice, hoping that the apprentice had not been hurt too much by his Master's lack of foresight. He was a little concerned by the fact that he had not received any replies to his messages from the ship except a routine note from the Council secretariat acknowledging the mission completion and estimated arrival time, but after thinking about the date he convinced himself that Obi-Wan was probably too busy with his final exams to respond. A day out from home he had finished his mission report and transmitted it. By the time they arrived at Coruscant Qui-Gon felt much better both mentally and physically, having regained his center in the Force as well as part of the weight and sleep he had lost during the weeks on Diozak.

Disembarking in the late evening darkness from the shuttle at the Temple hangar, Qui-Gon eagerly turned his steps towards his quarters. He noticed that everyone he encountered in the halls gave him a very wide berth and realized that the reek from the cargo ship must have saturated his clothing; he was so used to the odor he had forgotten how strong it was. As he drew nearer to his quarters he could feel that Obi-Wan was close but was puzzled by how strongly his Padawan was shielding. When he entered the silent quarters he called out in case Obi-Wan had friends over, but there was no response. Qui-Gon dropped his travel pack in the common area and went to knock on the closed door of his apprentice's room. He knocked softly once more, calling out "Obi-Wan?" as he eased the door open. An empty room met his disappointed gaze. He sighed regretfully and turned toward his own room. ~ Oh well, at least I can finally get a real bath ~ he thought ruefully.

Qui-Gon pushed open the door to his room and was reaching for the light sensor when a rustling noise caught his attention. From long habit and training he called his lightsaber to his hand as he automatically slid sideways away from the open doorway and assumed a defensive stance, leaving the weapon unlit for the moment. Listening carefully, he detected light breathing and another slight rustle. Reaching out with a tendril of Force, he activated both the overhead light and his saber. The next moment, however, he let the weapon fall harmlessly to his side as he straightened and stared at the sight before him.

Clad in an old torn pair of workout leggings, muscular body stretched out on his left side, a young man lay on the large bed clutching Qui-Gon's pillow to his chest. Stormy gray eyes stared intently at the Jedi Master. Nostrils flared slightly as the pillow was slowly crushed in a white fisted grip.

"Obi-Wan?" said Qui-Gon uncertainly, tossing his lightsaber onto his desk. This was not at all the reception he had been expecting. "Is something wrong, Padawan?" He reached out tentatively over the bond as he took a step toward the bed.

The apprentice rose smoothly from the bed in a single rolling motion, tossing the pillow aside. He advanced rapidly upon his Master, pushing him back against the wall, then quickly riffling the pockets of the cloak until he found the case containing the Force dampening collar. Obi-Wan pulled the collar out and glared at it before holding it up in front of Qui-Gon's face. Through clenched teeth, he slowly spit out, "You . . . bloody . . . bastard." He then stepped back, flung the collar viciously across the room, and stood staring furiously at his Master.

Qui-Gon was too stunned to move. This was not at all the affectionate, dutiful Padawan he was used to. He could feel anger being held tightly in check over the bond, but without knowing the source he was at a loss as to how to respond. The matter was quickly taken out of his hands, however.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and almost choked. "Force, you stink," he gasped. "We're going to talk, Sith take you, but first you're going into the fresher."

"Now wait a minute, Padawan, just what is going ... mmhph." Qui-Gon's words were abruptly muffled by a cloak yanked forcefully over his head instead of its usual route off his shoulders. By the time he untangled himself he found that his belt had been tossed aside and tunics were being stripped off as he was forcefully marched into the fresher. The next several minutes were never totally clear in Qui-Gon's memory afterwards. He had muddled images of a grim, silent Obi-Wan efficiently stripping him, splashing into a steaming bath, being roughly but effectively scrubbed and getting a mouthful of water every time he started to protest.

Sitting on the common area couch in fresh leggings and undertunic, skin tingling from the brisk cleansing, damp hair loosely pulled back, the Jedi Master looked in bewilderment at the stranger standing in front of him with arms crossed, face closed.

"Padawan, what is going on?" he demanded.

"I found out what you did," said Obi-Wan in a flat, dead voice. His eyes were gray, flickering with suppressed emotion, and the bond again held an undercurrent of anger.

"I know there are some things we need to discuss, but first you will explain to me what you think I did that has upset you so?"

The apprentice stared at him for a long moment before speaking softly and slowly, voice so low the master had to strain to hear, "After everything we've been through together, I thought I knew you. I thought we trusted each other, believed in each other, supported each other." Clenched hands fell to his side as a bitter smile chased itself away. "I actually believed you when you said I was a good apprentice and how much I meant to you. I thought you understood how much it means to me to be your Padawan, that I truly believe it is my duty and privilege to be at your side, to go on missions with you." Obi-Wan paused for a deep breath. "I had to find out from someone else that you asked to change this last mission so you wouldn't have to take me. You didn't even tell me you were taking a Force dampener, and I went through hell because of you. You were gone twice as long as you said you would be and I hardly heard from you, even though you told me it was an easy mission. You promised to take care of yourself and you come back looking like you haven't eaten or slept in ages."

"Obi-Wan, I'm sorry about not telling you about the Force dampener," Qui-Gon interrupted. "I didn't want you to worry about me and I just didn't think before I left. While I was away I realized it would affect you and I meant to apologize when I came back. Truly I am sorry."

Red spots flamed on each cheek in the pale face as the eyes flashed. One shaky hand raised to point an accusing finger. "And what else have you not told me? How many other times did you arrange to leave me behind? What am I supposed to think about our relationship?"

Qui-Gon stood up, his hands out placatingly. "Obi-Wan, I swear this is the only time I have ever asked that you be excused from a mission. I did it for you, if you will just let me explain -"

"It's pretty obvious what happened," the apprentice interrupted bitterly. He started to turn away.

Qui-Gon was rapidly losing patience with the situation. "Padawan, you will at least do me the courtesy of hearing me out." He reached out for his apprentice and ended up grabbing his left forearm, gripping hard and twisting sharply.

With a scream of pain the apprentice turned white as his knees buckled. He slid down, clutching the left arm that his Master had released in astonishment. Qui-Gon felt a wave of pain flood their bond, replacing the anger that had hung between them.

Qui-Gon knelt down to face the young man, trying to comfort him. He gently pried the fingers loose and stared aghast at the angry red scar that stretched almost halfway down the inner arm from the elbow. "Oh Force, Obi-Wan, what happened?" he whispered. He embraced Obi-Wan as the apprentice began to sob.

"Master, it's been awful . . . we didn't hear anything from you . . . bond broke . . . fell . . . ," Obi-Wan mumbled between sobs. "Changed the mission . . . every night . . . the bond . . . tried to stay angry . . .. " With a final wail he grabbed Qui-Gon tightly and buried his head against his Master's chest. " . . . thought you were dead . . . it hurt so much . . . ."

Qui-Gon held the sobbing apprentice tightly, rocking gently, as he sent soothing waves of healing energy toward the distraught young man. He could feel the edges of his apprentice's shielding crumbling under the combined weight of physical and emotional pain and caught chaotic visions of falling, blood, sleepless nights, fear, and doubts slowly turning to anger. For several minutes they knelt together, holding each other, as the pain and sobs gradually diminished. When the exhausted apprentice finally fell silent, the Master gently picked him up and placed him on the couch. He fetched a glass of water and wet cloth from the kitchen and tenderly wiped the pale, tear-streaked face, helping the young man sip from the glass he held with shaking hands.

Obi-Wan put the glass down and pulled up enough to allow his Master to sit down on the end of the couch. He leaned back into Qui-Gon's embrace, both men seeking comfort from the physical contact. They sat silently for a few minutes, allowing emotions to settle.

"Padawan, we clearly have some things we need to work out," Qui-Gon said softly. "Please, tell me what happened here while I was gone."

"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan, still a bit shaky. He drew a deep breath before continuing. "Everything was fine the first week or so after you left, Master. I went to class, practiced drills, all the normal activities. I did what you suggested about trying to enjoy Bant's Nameday party, and actually I did have a very nice time. It was at the party, though, that Master Koon stopped by for a few minutes to talk to Bant's Master. He remarked on how well the party was going and told me I must be happy that Master Jinn had gotten the solo mission to Diozak. I was surprised, of course, but when I asked Master Koon to explain he just said the Council had made the change in mission and he left quickly. I didn't think much about it, but I was starting to get concerned when you were late getting to Diozak. Of course, we finally did get your message explaining about the problems on your outbound trip. In fact, Master Yoda himself brought me your message before he left to go offplanet to a conference." Obi-Wan paused, found the glass, and took another sip of water.

"I have to admit it was rather a misadventure getting to Diozak," said Qui-Gon with a small smile. "It was never really dangerous, though. Please go on."

"Well, I thought things would just go on normally. I did have a very strange dream one night, very unsettling, but I couldn't remember much about it. That next day, the late afternoon training session, I was working the high aerial obstacles ..." the quiet voice trailed off into silence as the apprentice sat rubbing the new scar. Finally he shook himself a little and continued. "It was near the very top of the course that it happened. Suddenly the training bond went completely silent, I couldn't feel anything at all, and everything went sort of black." Obi-Wan shuddered. "I vaguely remember grabbing at my head, falling . . . I suppose I must have screamed . . . then I was on the floor. There was a lot of blood . . . I couldn't feel my left arm, but when I looked down there was a long hole with white jagged ends of bones sticking out. The next thing I remember was waking up the next day in the Healer's ward with a big cast on my arm." He closed his eyes, then reached up with his right hand to grasp Qui-Gon's arm. He whispered, "Master, all I could think of when the bond went cold was that something horrible must have happened to you. I thought you must be dead."

Qui-Gon tightened his embrace and rested his chin on the apprentice's head. "Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry. It had been years since I had had to use one, and I just didn't think about what might happen to you when I had to put the Force dampener on."

"It was quite strange when I woke up," Obi-Wan went on in a detached manner, almost unheeding of his Master's words. "I tried to explain what happened to the Healers, but they couldn't find anything wrong except my broken arm and a lot of bruises and cuts. That afternoon, though, within an hour or so of the first time, the bond died again. This time a Healer was there when it happened and she told me afterward I moaned, shook and tried to withdraw into a fetal position. I remembered feeling cold, feeling like I was falling into a black hole, reaching for you and I couldn't find you. When I woke up a bit later, I felt cold and empty, like part of me was missing. Master Windu was there with the Healer when I awoke. He explained to us how you had asked to change the mission and about the Force dampener you were required to wear part of the time while you were on Diozak."

Obi-Wan fell silent for a long moment, his breathing shallow. Qui-Gon continued to hold him, moving his head further down so his left cheek rested against the side of the apprentice's head. Finally the young man shrugged and continued.

"The Healers let me leave after the third day but most of the next month or so was pretty much the same. The arm was so badly broken in several places that I had to go back for treatments almost every day, in fact they just took the last cast off a few days ago and it's still quite sore. I went to classes, studied, and waited every day for that awful moment when the bond died, never knowing exactly when it would come. We had hardly any word from you, and over time I started to have doubts about why you had gotten the mission changed and started to think about a lot of other times when I had wondered how many other things you hadn't told me. It was hard to sleep; I had to move into your bed to get any sleep at all. I had special meditations the Healers gave me to help when the bond was gone but they didn't seem to help much. Master Yoda was gone and I didn't trust anyone else enough to go to." Obi-Wan's breath hitched and his grasp on Qui-Gon's arm tightened even further. "I know it was wrong, but I was in so much pain, had let doubts replace trust, and I tried to use anger to make the pain go away. It would work for a little while, but even tonight I had to work at staying angry. I'm sorry, Master, but it hurt so much I just didn't know what to think or do any more. And I'm sorry for the way I treated you tonight."

"It's all right, Obi-Wan," replied Qui-Gon quietly. "We've both made mistakes. I do trust you and love you. You have been a wonderful apprentice and have worked hard toward becoming a Jedi Knight. I believe in you with all my heart."

"I should have trusted you, Master, and not let my feelings get twisted."

"You were in a difficult position, Padawan, and I did hold back some information from you. That was my fault and there was no reason I should have done it." Qui-Gon gave a small, self-deprecating snort. "I really did have good intentions when I started, Obi-Wan. We had been working so hard for the last few years that I wanted to try to do something to reward you, but it seems to have backfired rather badly."

Obi-Wan sat up and twisted around to look directly at his Master. "Reward me?" he asked, a puzzled frown on his face. After a few seconds he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head sideways. "Are you talking about Bant's Nameday?"

"I knew how much you missed your friends, Obi-Wan, and you had talked about the Nameday party for months. You had been such a good Padawan that I wanted very much to do something for you. When I first got the notification about a new mission I knew you would miss the party so I asked for either a delay or a change." Qui-Gon paused, looked away for a moment, then returned his gaze to his apprentice. "I ended up having to go to the Council; the only thing they could offer was the mission to Diozak, so I took it. I apologize for not telling you what I did, but I believed you deserved to stay and I thought you would enjoy the break."

"Master, Bant and I are Jedi," replied Obi-Wan gently. "We both know that duty comes first and we would have both understood about having to go on a mission. My place is with you." He grinned knowingly, "Somehow I doubt the Council just smiled graciously and offered you a new mission. Did they tell you about the Force dampener?"

Qui-Gon smiled a little sheepishly as he answered. "Well, I did have to ask much more nicely than usual. And yes, I knew about having to wear the collar when I accepted the mission."

"Master, with your connection to the Living Force, you must have known how miserable wearing a Force collar was going to be . . . ," Obi-Wan trailed off, a lump in his throat.

Reaching over slowly, Qui-Gon took his apprentice's left arm and gently turned it scar side up. He lightly caressed the raised skin, eyes focused on the angry scar. "Obi-Wan, I would face far worse for you. I regret not explaining everything to you, and I am very sorry for what you had to go through while I was gone." He looked up, blue eyes bright with emotion. "The worst part was missing you. If it is any consolation, I didn't sleep too well either, and it was very painfully clear to me just how important you are to me."

Silence stretched between them for a long while until Obi-Wan finally spoke. "Master, there was something else," he said hesitantly.

"Yes, Obi-Wan? You know you can talk to me about anything."

"Well, there were dreams... " the young man said, shifting uncomfortably and blushing furiously.

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?"

"I didn't miss you just emotionally." Obi-Wan licked dry lips, eyes riveted to the large hands still absently fondling the livid scar. "I dreamed about you . . . physically."

Time and breath stopped for the Jedi Master as hope suddenly blazed brightly. He ruthlessly tamped it down again, knowing it was his duty to ensure that his Padawan took the lead in any potential physical relationship. Stilling his hands, he carefully replied in what he desperately hoped was a neutral tone. "Would you like to talk about your dreams?"

Face still red, Obi-Wan swallowed before answering. "Master, you know I'm not exactly a virgin. I've been with men and women, and I enjoyed both. I've had those kind of feelings for you for a while, but you never gave any indication that you might have . . . physical . . . feelings for me. If anything, I always had the impression that you didn't want me at all that way. I was going to wait until I was Knighted to bring it up, hoping you might feel differently when we more equal in rank, but I had the most incredible dreams." He looked up, gray eyes shifting to bright blue-green. Obi-Wan slowly took Qui-Gon's hands, holding them clasped together. He continued softly, "I dreamed about making love to you, and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced. Night after night, I would wake up, and I would cry because it wasn't real. One of the reasons my anger grew was the frustration of wanting you so badly, not having you, and not knowing if I would ever be able to have you." He tightened his grasp on the large hands. "I can't wait any longer, Qui-Gon Jinn. I love you, I want you, and I have to know if there is any possibility that you could return those feelings."

"Obi-Wan, if you only knew," Qui-Gon whispered. He took a deep breath. "I have loved you, desired you, for a long time, but it was never my place to push my desires on to you. If this is truly what you want, I would welcome the opportunity to make love with you, my beautiful Obi-Wan."

"I want," Obi-Wan replied firmly. To demonstrate his sincerity, he pushed Qui-Gon back and proceeded to thoroughly claim the surprised Master's mouth.

When they both came up for breath, Obi-Wan stood up and glared down at the bemused Jedi Master.

"Now then, Qui-Gon Jinn, we've got one more thing to settle."

Qui-Gon stared up at his apprentice in bewilderment, his wits still fuzzy from the recent assault. "Uh, what is that, Obi- Wan?"

"Before you left for Diozak, you promised to take care of yourself, but just look at you. Fifteen pounds lighter, not nearly enough sleep, and that whiff when you came in was enough to stampede a herd of banthas. It's pretty obvious to me you didn't do a very good of keeping that promise. So, on your feet, now." He hauled Qui-Gon to his feet, then grabbed the Master's tunic with his good hand. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he began pulling Qui-Gon toward the large sleeping room, calling over his shoulder in a no-nonsense tone, "Your punishment for not properly fulfilling your promise is that you must spend the night helping me break in the new sheets on our bed."

"Yes, Padawan," replied Qui-Gon meekly as he let himself be dragged off. ~ Now this is a side of Obi-Wan I look forward to seeing a lot more of ~ he thought as a happy gleam came into his own eyes.

finis