The Best Medicine
by Russet McMillanPart 4
It was an ugly day on the surface of the ocean, with wind and rain lashing at the waves. Qui-Gon blinked in surprise at the cloud-filtered light, but gladly pulled the breather from his mouth and filled his lungs with fresh air. Obi-Wan panted a short distance away, bobbing up and down out of phase with Qui-Gon as the ocean swells passed them.
"You were trying to cut off your hand!" Obi-Wan accused.
"It was the only way I could think of to get free," Qui-Gon returned mildly.
"But...your *hand*!"
"It was a better option than drowning, Padawan. And I was worried about you. What happened?"
Obi-Wan leaned back against the waves, tipping his face to the gray sky. "Two of them -- the chieftain and his second -- tried to sink the ship, with me in it." He glanced over a little sheepishly at Qui-Gon. "I managed to get it back up to the surface, but the engines are pretty much destroyed."
"You're alive, that's the important part," Qui-Gon pointed out. "And so am I. How did you get that thing off my wrist, anyway?"
"It's a substance that melts when a current is applied -- including a current of Force."
"I see." Qui-Gon spat water as a rogue wave slapped him in the face. "I can't seem to access the Force at the moment."
"I know. It's the collar. They put one on me, too."
Qui-Gon moved closer to his apprentice and reached out to tip Obi-Wan's chin upward. "You should have used a lower setting on your saber," he said softly, studying the burns on his padawan's neck.
"Yes, Master," said the boy in a rather stifled tone.
"Can you get this off me?" Qui-Gon asked, gesturing at the collar.
"Not with the Force; the crystals inside block it. That's how the collar works. I did bring an electro-knife with me, but it won't work underwater." Obi-Wan reached for his belt. "I suppose it will work here, although it's still a bit wet with all this rain. Perhaps we should go back to the ship."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "I have an idea, something that needs to be done as soon as possible if it's to work."
Obi-Wan cocked an eyebrow curiously as he pulled the tool from his belt pouch. "Does it have anything to do with why the Avoorn tried to kill us?" he asked as he bent close to Qui-Gon's neck.
"It wasn't the Avoorn who tried to kill us, Padawan -- only those two individuals. I'm afraid I said something unwise while we were negotiating." Qui-Gon helpfully tilted his chin aside.
"They wanted to kill us for something you *said*?" Obi-Wan demanded. "What did you do, threaten to destroy the planet?"
"Sarcasm is unbecoming in a Jedi, Padawan."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan turned on the knife and brought it to a spot just below Qui-Gon's ear.
"I used a careless word to describe the relationship between the chieftain and his second," Qui-Gon explained, trying to ignore the proximity of the humming blade. "The translator compounded my error by adding an inflection that implied a sexual relationship between the two of them."
"Is something wrong with that?"
"Same-gender sexual relations are taboo to the Avoorn." Qui-Gon sighed. "I should have realized that; it's fairly common in societies that devalue femininity and depersonalize females. The perception is that for two males to be sexually involved, one of them must take on a role traditionally reserved for females. And if the feminine role is inferior, that means that one of the males is voluntarily lowering himself, giving up a form of power that is closely held and defended. Implying sexual relations between males is a profound insult in many primitive cultures."
"Profound enough for murder?"
"Ah, but I made a second mistake, Padawan, an even graver one: I was right." Qui-Gon paused. "Is that knife doing anything?"
"Yes, but it's slower than I expected. I'll be through on this side in another few seconds, then I think I'll have to do the other side as well." Obi-Wan leaned closer. "There; got it. Can you put your hand up here and make sure the ends don't fuse together again? Yes, like that." He turned his master around in the water and brought the knife up under the opposite ear. "So you mean the chieftain and second really *are*, er, together?"
"I believe so, but for them it's a deadly secret. They would both lose enormous prestige if it were revealed. Probably they would lose their positions as leaders, and perhaps even their membership in the pod as well. They would be ridiculed and outcast. And I, apparently, could bring all of this upon them with a careless word."
"So they thought they had to get rid of you."
"And you also, by extension. They attempted to make it look like an accident, but the arrangements were made in haste."
"They said it would look like the tri-phib was sunk by a rival pod," Obi-Wan supplied.
"So now they are twice condemned, as illicit lovers and attempted murderers."
"And this is part of your plan?" Obi-Wan said doubtfully.
"Not precisely, but I will make use of it."
The humming of the electro-knife changed pitch, and Obi-Wan pulled it free just in time as the two halves of the collar fell apart.
Qui-Gon tipped his head back, eyes closing as he felt the Force flood in again. "Ahhh..."
Obi-Wan moistened his lips. "Better?" he asked, his voice a little high.
"Oh, yes." Qui-Gon looked down at his wrapped wrist. "I will take care of this when we return to the transport; it can wait at least that long." In his other hand, he held up the breather. "How much air is left in this?"
"Er..." Obi-Wan blinked and swallowed hard. "Not much. Perhaps half an hour. The others were lost when the ship sank."
Qui-Gon detached the translator from one of the used breathers on his belt. "Well. Best you should go back to the ship now --"
Obi-Wan's eyes widened in dismay. "Master!"
Qui-Gon's eyebrow rose, but he merely continued, "And contact the transport. I want the pilot to be ready to get us out of here at a moment's notice."
"I already spoke to her; she's ready. We should stay together, Master."
"Obi-Wan." Ominously.
"We can watch each other's backs."
"We have only one breather, and that only partially filled."
"I can hold my breath long enough to reach the colony. It's no further than the ship is. And they keep air in their buildings."
Qui-Gon hesitated, beginning to be swayed.
"I'll follow you even if you tell me not to," Obi-Wan declared mulishly.
"Padawan!"
"You can scold me for it later, if you want. But you know I'm right -- we should stay together."
Qui-Gon sighed. "Very well. But you will follow my lead, Obi-Wan. Watch closely for my signal."
The boy nodded, and the two Jedi started off across the tops of the waves, not planning to dive until they were nearly above the colony.
The grand hall of the Bavwauu was busy, crowded with Avoorn who had come to speak to their chieftain. BaswiIIrn was watching the supplicants, waiting for the right moment to announce that the Cheh-dai thief had attempted to steal from them.
Two small figures darted into the hall, moving faster than should be possible for land-swimmers. The larger one took a quick look at the assembled Avoorn and intoned, "Out," waving one of his fluke/tentacles lightly before his face. The hall emptied in short order while BaswiIIrn and WeiihuOOo stared with flattened flukes.
The smaller Cheh-dai took up a dominant position in the room, up near the air at the ceiling. BaswiIIrn stared between the two in confusion. Was it possible the smaller one was the leader of the two?
But surely it was *not* possible for them to be alive -- either of them! If that had gone wrong somehow, there was no telling what else the Cheh-dai might be capable of.
When the hall was empty of all but BaswiIIrn and his fluke-mate, the larger Cheh-dai swam forward to a position just above the chieftain's gaze.
"You have attempted to murder two Jedi -- two who could have brought riches and prosperity to your people," the land-swimmer sang.
WeiiHuOOo's fluke-skirts trembled flat against his spine with fear and anger.
"You did this because you have a secret you wish no one to know. But now you have *two* secrets. Shall we tell your people that you are mates as well as would-be murderers?"
At the curl of a tentacle from his Chieftain, WeiihuOOo unhooked the stun device from his neck-jewelry and began to circle carefully behind the larger Cheh-dai.
The smaller one arrowed down from the ceiling, moving impossibly fast as if to head-butt WeiihuOOo. Then, at the last moment, he reversed his body so that his rear flukes, covered in their hard protective skins, struck the Avoorn on either side of his hearing membrane. WeiihuOOo lurched, dazed by the blow and the ringing in his sinuses. Weakly, he spiraled down toward the floor, trying to catch his balance again.
Then the small Cheh-dai headed for BaswiIIrn as if he would strike the chieftain as well. But the larger land-swimmer held up a single fluke, and the attack froze in mid-motion. The young Cheh-dai hung in place, staring at BaswiIIrn yet displaying perfect obedience to the other's gesture.
BaswiIIrn knew which was the leader, now. Loftily ignoring the small one, he turned to the other. "What do you want?" he rumbled in deepest, angriest harmonics.
"In return for keeping your secret, I and my offspring wish to leave freely. We will make one visit to your crystal beds, this very day. We will take away only what we can carry. And when we are gone, no Jedi will trouble you again until another generation has passed among the Avoorn."
BaswiIIrn considered. The only witness to this conversation was his fluke-mate. If he told the Cheh-dai to go to the crystal beds, then warned the Bavwauu that they were being robbed, he might yet manage to silence the two troublesome land-swimmers while appearing like a savior to his people.
But it would be too easy for the treacherous Cheh-dai to shout out his secrets as the crowd gathered. No, far better to let the land-swimmers take what they wanted and leave. BaswiIIrn might not get the weapons he had hoped for, but at least he would be free of the trouble these Cheh-dai brought with them.
"Go," Baswiirn moaned. "I will tell my people not to stop you this day, but if you or any other Cheh-dai is seen in these waters --"
"Not until your offspring's offspring are fully grown; only then will any of my people return."
"Then begone." BaswiIIrn turned away in disgust. As he moved, he caught the barest glimpse of a small fluke-skirt whisking out of sight. What was HaruOOo doing back so early from his friends' gathering? BaswiIIrn would have to talk to his offspring and make sure the youngster hadn't heard anything he shouldn't.
And what was the young Cheh-dai doing, waving his small tentacle above his fluke in that manner? BaswiIIrn crimped his tentacles in annoyance. He would be glad to feel the wake of these Cheh-dai.
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon returned to the little tri-phib at last with two sacks bulging with crystals. They were more than a little short on oxygen from the repeated dives to gather the things, and their hands ached from the work of prying the gems free -- but at least they knew they had gotten part of what they came for, and their mission was not a complete failure.
As Qui-Gon stepped up from the water lock and straightened his back, he stared in amazement at the blanket glued to the wall.
"Er...I had to patch the hole somehow," Obi-Wan explained. "It was all I could think of."
"Hole?" Qui-Gon managed faintly.
Obi-Wan nodded. "Big hole." He drew a circle with his hands. "That was how they tried to sink the ship. Well, that and crippling the water engines."
Qui-Gon turned in a slow circle, noticing the small puddles of water that decorated every flat surface. "The entire ship was...?"
"Full of water. Except for the 'fresher; I holed up in there for a while. But I knew I couldn't stay there long, or the compartment would be crushed as the ship went deeper in the trench."
Qui-Gon knew now why he had been so worried about his padawan; he had good reason for it. He didn't need a connection with the Force to know that Obi-Wan would find trouble wherever he went. Sinking weakly into the pilot's chair, Qui-Gon tried to remind himself that the padawan also *surmounted* trouble wherever he went. It was hard to remember sometimes. "It seems they were successful in sinking the ship, padawan."
"I brought it back up," Obi-Wan said defensively. "I did have to use most of the skin sealant to patch the hull, though."
"*Skin* sealant?"
"It bonds well underwater. But I used the Calamarian sealant first. There's still a bit of the human adhesive left, if you want to --" Obi-Wan gestured at his master's wrist.
Qui-Gon glanced down at the blood-stained rags wrapped about his forearm. "No, it can wait until we get to the transport." He stood decisively. "Call the captain and ask her to send a shuttle down as near to the surface as she can and lower the ramp. We'll have to jump from the top of the tri-phib."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan reached for the console. "What will you be doing?"
"Packing our things, and getting a clean shirt." Qui-Gon headed for the sleep room.
Obi-Wan nodded briefly and turned to his task, only realizing at the last minute -- "No, don't!"
Too late. Qui-Gon had already palmed the control for the door, and it slid open, releasing a torrent of water that flowed exuberantly out into the main compartment, bowled over the Jedi master in its path, and dragged him a few meters towards the lock in the center of the room.
Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed at the sight of his master looking so pathetic and bedraggled, and he couldn't resist a giggle. Which quickly turned into an outright laugh and became uncontrollable.
Qui-Gon observed the hysterics with a sour gaze, until Obi-Wan gained enough breath control to gasp out, "Sorry, Master. I forgot, really!"
"I suppose you --" Qui-Gon broke off at a strange creaking sound from the ship. "Obi-Wan, why is the ship tilting on its side?" He braced himself on the slowly-sloping deck.
"Oops." Obi-Wan lunged for the console. "We're unbalanced. I'd better pump the water out of the 'fresher, too. Or..." A giggle escaped him. "We could just open the door."
"I'll leave that task to you, Padawan," said Qui-Gon, climbing to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. "I find I'm looking forward to being *dry*."
Obi-Wan roused half-smiling from his reverie to find his master watching him quizzically. "Yes, I did rather enjoy that mission," the padawan said reminiscently. "And it turned out well enough in the end; there are nearly a hundred Jedi carrying sabers with the crystals we brought back from Arawoon."
"*You* didn't spend two days with your arm immobilized in bacta afterwards."
"True." Obi-Wan glanced for reassurance at his master's left hand, which now bore only the faintest of scars from that incident. "I was busy enough with the meditation exercises you assigned me."
"The direst punishment I could think of for your defiance," Qui-Gon said drily.
"But even that led to my breakthrough in telepathy, so it wasn't *entirely* dreadful."
Qui-Gon's eyebrow crimped in puzzlement. "But what does all this have to do with your...technique for generating Force?"
"Ah." Obi-Wan had too much control over his body to blush, but his eyes dropped shyly. "Well, you thought I had used a saber, and I didn't bother to correct you..."
"Used a saber for what?"
"To get the collar off my neck."
Qui-Gon was silent for a long moment, but he apparently still couldn't make the connection. "You're saying you didn't use a saber?"
"Of course not. Both our sabers were locked in a case in the sleep-room, which was flooded. I was stuck in the 'fresher with no breather and almost no tools at hand."
"Obi-Wan, you will have to be more plain. How *did* you get the collar off?"
The young man coughed. "I reasoned that an overload of Force energy might cause the crystals' resonance to break down. But I had to generate that energy within myself somehow. So I, err..." The very tips of his ears began to go pink in spite of himself.
"You masturbated."
Obi-Wan nodded, involuntarily glancing around to see if anyone was in earshot.
"In the 'fresher of a sinking ship."
"I was fourteen at the time, Master. At that age...anytime, anyplace."
Qui-Gon chuckled richly. "Nineteen being infinitely more mature?"
"Well, I am!"
The one good eyebrow began to draw downward. "And that was all it took to get your collar off?"
"Once I built up enough Force to leak past the crystals, the material holding the collar together began to melt. That was how my neck came to be burned."
"Do you mean to say," Qui-Gon began slowly, "that I could have freed myself inside of fifteen minutes, if I had only..."
"Yes, Master."
"And you never thought to mention this?"
Obi-Wan looked pointedly at Qui-Gon's left hand. "I...didn't think you would appreciate hearing it just at the time. And we weren't likely to encounter those crystal-collars anywhere else, so it didn't seem to be a necessary piece of information."
"But now you think you can make use of the same thing in our current situation?"
"There's no reason why it shouldn't work in hyperspace as well as it did inside that collar."
Qui-Gon leaned back slightly against his up-tilted pallet. "I see a flaw in your logic, Padawan. You say the incident with the collar proves that you are generating more *internal* Force through sexual arousal. But would you not have gotten the same results even if you were calling the Force in from the outside? Perhaps it was your added strength in summoning an external Force which overwhelmed the collar."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I could feel the Force building within me long before the collar broke, Master. If it were coming from outside, I shouldn't have felt anything until after the collar fell apart."
"I see," said Qui-Gon slowly. "You could be right about that."
"Surely it's worth a try," Obi-Wan urged. "If this is all that's needed to heal you..."
"You seem very insistent, Padawan."
Obi-Wan swallowed. "I don't like to see you hurting, Master."
"Is that your only reason?"
"Isn't it enough? If we can't do something about that eye, you might end up with a very unpleasant choice between prosthesis or regeneration. Or --" He shut his mouth firmly.
Qui-Gon's eyebrow arched. "Or?"
Obi-Wan sighed. "Or, it occurred to me you might make Master Piell's choice." He looked down in shame. "I find the idea...doesn't appeal to me, very much."
"Nor to me, Padawan, although I make no assumptions about why Master Piell chose it. If it eases your mind, you might wish to know that my choice in such a case would be regeneration. Unpleasant enough, perhaps, but only temporary. And surely you would have no objection to a few months spent at the Temple with your friends?"
"No, Master," said Obi-Wan in a small voice.
"And I believe we have already established that I need not lose the eye, though it might take me a day or two in healing trance."
"You still wouldn't be able to carry out the mission."
"A mission which you are well able to handle on your own, Obi-Wan. Yet you are most insistent upon trying this idea of yours. Therefore I ask you again: your concern for my health, and for the mission -- are these your only reasons for wanting to have sex with me?"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and on the exhale he released his embarrassment and anxiety to the Force. "No, Master."
Qui-Gon waited.
"I have desired you ever since I was fourteen, since our conversation on Alderaan," the young man said steadily, eyes on the blanket that covered Qui-Gon's chest. "I believe sex with you would be...very enjoyable. I am an adult now, quite capable of granting or denying consent even to you. So the objections you posed on Alderaan no longer seem valid. And I *am* concerned for your health and your ability to participate on the mission. I wouldn't have asked you to do this simply for my own gratification, nor would I expect you to agree only for that reason."
"Do you think so little of your own charms?" Qui-Gon chided softly.
Obi-Wan looked up. "I beg your pardon?"
"No matter. Thank you for your honesty, Obi-Wan."
"But you're going to say no, aren't you?" the young man said glumly.
"I didn't say that. I must think about this carefully, and for that I will need some time alone."
Obi-Wan nodded and stood to leave. The extra weight at his belt reminded him of something else he'd been meaning to tell his master. "Here. I picked it up after the explosion." He unhooked the lightsaber and extended it toward Qui-Gon. "I...I used it, by accident. I couldn't find mine quickly enough."
Qui-Gon paused, his hand extended to accept the hilt. "Do you think I would begrudge you the use of it?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "It felt wrong. It made me think of... bad things." He couldn't express the feeling of unease that had come over him when he fought with his master's saber.
Qui-Gon's other hand came up, and he wrapped it over Obi-Wan's, curling his fingers close around the weapon. "You did well, Padawan. The ship is safe, and I *will* recover, either sooner or later."
Obi-Wan nodded unhappily.
Qui-Gon glanced down bemusedly at his bare collarbones disappearing under the light thermal sheet. "Since I have nowhere to keep it just at the moment, would you put the saber in with my other things? And perhaps bring me something to wear? I should like to get out of this bay as soon as I can persuade the droid to let me go."
"Of course, Master." Obi-Wan started to pull his hands free, then paused. He bent hastily and placed a warm kiss on his master's knuckles. "I'll leave you to make your decision now." He managed a smile.
Qui-Gon's eye crinkled fondly. "Thank you, Padawan. I'll call you when I'm ready."
Obi-Wan left the medical bay feeling uncertain about the future, but quite determined that all would be well between him and Qui-Gon no matter what lay ahead.
Obi-Wan walked slowly through the corridors of the ship towards the quarters he had been sharing with Qui-Gon. His master was right, he realized; he had been deceiving himself. All his rational arguments, so carefully mustered and so dispassionately presented, had been mere camouflage for a more personal desire.
When he reached the small cabin they had been assigned, he drew Qui-Gon's pack out from its strap-down in the closet and rustled through it, savoring his master's spicy scent among the folded clothing. He pulled out a light tunic and a pair of sleep pants to take back to the medbay, then carefully tucked Qui-Gon's saber into an inner pouch. That done, Obi-Wan folded his bunk down from the wall and sat on it, thinking.
In some ways, he recognized, he really hadn't changed much since he was fourteen. He still wanted Qui-Gon in the depths of his heart, but he had been concealing that longing from his master for so long that he had hidden it from himself, as well.
He flopped back on the bunk and stared at the high ceiling. Over the past few years, he had played at sex with other padawans. His experiences hadn't been extensive, but he supposed they could be called varied.
A smile crept over his face. Yes, "varied" was probably the best word to apply to a group of partners that included one human female, one human male, and one non-human female. His memories of his time with Riennan were vivid, but disjointed; he had been clumsy, and she had been patient. She made a good partner for his first time, and he was glad he had asked her -- but they never really belonged together in the long term.
Bruck had been an enjoyable lover -- and still was, off and on -- but enjoyment was the only real purpose for their liaisons. Obi-Wan had learned a lot, since Bruck was always more than willing to experiment; among other things, Obi-Wan had learned how the channel the extra Force to his lover to increase pleasure. He'd also discovered that he *could* dissipate sexual Force by levitating things, so long as his partner didn't make him laugh too hard and ruin his concentration. He had thought some of the techniques he learned with Bruck might be useful in healing Qui-Gon, if his master would only agree. But in spite of the fun, and the discoveries, and a surprisingly genuine sense of affection, Obi-Wan knew that what he shared with Bruck was only sex, not love.
It was Bant who had taught Obi-Wan the most about his own feelings and his capacity for love. She had taught him about balancing his own needs against those of another person. And it was also Bant who taught Obi-Wan about heartbreak and how fragile love could be...
Obi-Wan walked through the Temple at a loose-limbed stroll, trying to keep the fatuous smile off his face. His entire body and soul seemed to be glowing with well-being. It was hard, just at the moment, to believe that anyone could possibly object to a display of happiness. But he reminded himself firmly that not everyone could be as lucky as he was, and he shouldn't rub their faces in that fact.
As soon as he stepped through the door of his quarters, he allowed himself to break into the huge grin that had been tugging at his lips all evening. His master wouldn't mind; Qui-Gon knew exactly what Obi-Wan was smiling about and was happy on the padawan's behalf -- although not as happy as Obi-Wan himself.
Or perhaps Qui-Gon did mind. Certainly he looked stern enough as he turned away from the dataset. "We must talk, Padawan."
Uh-oh. Those words, in that tone, were always a signal of trouble. Obi-Wan carefully folded his hands together inside his sleeves. "Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon sighed as if he had an unpleasant duty to perform. "I have received complaints from three separate people -- two of them masters -- about your activities in the Water Gardens tonight."
Obi-Wan's jaw dropped. "How did they..." Oh, Force, he must have been broadcasting. He thought he had more control than that. Or perhaps it had been Bant whose shielding slipped; he hadn't been in much position to notice at the time. "I didn't realize there were so many people around," he said weakly.
"Regardless of the number of people present, I think you are more than old enough at sixteen to recognize that a public venue is not appropriate for such activities."
"It wasn't *public* exactly, Master. We were under one of the walkways. No one could see us!" Obi-Wan struggled against the heat that wanted to flood through his face.
"They could feel you through the Force."
"They could have done that from the hallway outside Bant's rooms, if we stayed there."
"The rooms are shielded. And people do not retire to the hallways for peaceful contemplation; they do that in the gardens. You disturbed their meditations."
Obi-Wan gulped. "We couldn't think of anywhere else. Calamarians need to do it underwater --"
"And all Jedi, of any race, are provided with adequate facilities for their needs."
"But Bant shares her swimming room with three other Calamarians! And two of them were, um..."
"You could have waited, instead of imposing your sensations upon others."
Obi-Wan looked at the toes of his boots. "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon studied his padawan. "*Under* the walkway?"
"Where the fountain runs beneath it. We didn't think anyone would *know*," Obi-Wan said, shame-faced.
"Hmm. I see you're getting plenty of practice in your breathing mastery. But you will have to work on other areas of your control, as well."
Other areas such as controlling his facial expressions, Obi-Wan realized, his blush surfacing at last.
"Obi-Wan. Look at me."
It was hard, but Obi-Wan raised his head and stared at the spot between his master's eyes.
"I can understand your desire to be with your friend --"
"She's more than just a friend," Obi-Wan interrupted earnestly. "We're in love."
"Nevertheless. You must not allow your emotions to spur you to rash behavior."
"Yes, Master."
"However, there are worse places than the Temple for youthful excesses. There's little enough harm done this time."
Obi-Wan grimaced. "Wait until noonmeal tomorrow. The rumors will have reached the other padawans by then."
A smile twitched at Qui-Gon's mouth and was quickly suppressed. "That's the other thing I wanted to speak to you about. We won't be attending noonmeal tomorrow."
This time Obi-Wan met his master's gaze directly. "We have a mission?" His heart sank for the first time upon hearing such news. Normally, he was excited to hear of a new assignment.
Qui-Gon nodded. "We are to examine allegations of slavetrading on Dantooine."
Obi-Wan's mind whirled with impossible ideas. He could ask to stay behind -- No! He hated it when Qui-Gon went on missions without him. Perhaps Bant could come along...but her master would never agree to it. Nor would the Council be receptive to a request that the mission be given to someone else.
Everyone would look at Obi-Wan and Bant and see nothing more than two teenagers experiencing love for the first time. They wouldn't see how earth-shattering a separation would be, right now when the two had only just discovered each other. They would claim that it would be good for the young couple to spend some time apart from each other.
"How long will we be gone?" Obi-Wan asked in a strained voice.
"You know I can't foresee that, Padawan. We might have other missions to attend to after this one is over. But I will try to get us back here for at least a short break as soon as possible."
Obi-Wan nodded, swallowing against a huge lump in his throat. "When do we leave?"
"Tomorrow morning, just after dawn. Our transport will be on pad four."
"May I..." Obi-Wan's voice failed.
"I've already packed your bags. I'll meet you at the transport in the morning. Go ahead, Obi-Wan. Spend the night with her."
Obi-Wan raised burning eyes and saw genuine compassion in his master's face. It almost destroyed his composure. "Thank you, Master," he whispered, and fled.
It was difficult and painful to be apart from Bant. Obi-Wan thought of her and missed her every hour of every day for the first weeks he was away from the Temple. But the mission to Dantooine was a challenging one, requiring close concentration. For part of the time, they were undercover and out of communication with the Temple. By the time they had traced the network of slavers and convinced the Hutt who headed the group to keep his business away from Republic worlds in the future, Obi-Wan realized it had been several days since he thought of Bant.
Then followed another mission, and another without a break. The third mission, to Rhunir, was Obi-Wan's least favorite type: an entrenched civil war with a racial/religious foundation that went back generations. Ever since the time when he was thirteen and had nearly left the Order because he believed he could make a difference in just such a hopeless war, Obi-Wan found such situations especially heartwrenching.
In this case, it appeared that even though both sides had specifically requested a Jedi mediator to help them end the senseless loss of life, what they really wanted was for their own friends to stop dying. No one on either side had any desire to stop killing their perfidious enemies. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan left the day after the cease-fire ended -- both sides claiming the other had broken the truce first -- and hostilities engulfed the planet in warfare once more.
By the time the mission ended, Obi-Wan was heartsick and exhausted to the bone, and he only nodded wearily when Qui-Gon mentioned that they were to have some rest at the Temple before their next assignment.
As soon as they got home, before even unpacking his things, Obi-Wan sought out Bant. Her joy in life and gentle sense of humor were just what he needed to help him release his fears and worries.
But he found that something was different, something was not quite right. Bant was fretting about some harsh comments she had received from her teacher in Intermediate Philosophy, a class that Obi-Wan had started three times but never stayed at the Temple long enough to finish. He waited patiently through her complaints about the teacher, but when he tried to describe the terrible mission to Bant, she didn't seem to understand. She thought it was pointless for him to worry about strangers who were obviously bent upon their own destruction.
Yet Bant was one of the most caring and generous people Obi-Wan knew. Surely she, of all people, should understand that if a Jedi ever stopped caring, he risked turning to the Dark. Obi-Wan knew that sometimes he got too involved in the struggles of those he met during missions, but he'd never expected to have to explain those passions to Bant, who had known him ever since they were initiates together.
Perhaps, he thought, it was just her frustration with the philosophy class. So he left her early that evening, pleading tiredness. But the next day was the same. Bant spoke of her own concerns and the latest Temple rumors, and Obi-Wan had difficulty even pretending to be interested in what she said. Then, when he talked about his missions with Qui-Gon, a blank look came into Bant's silver eyes even though she tried to hide it.
And when they went to the swimming room and locked the door, it was even worse. Not that Obi-Wan was incapable; he had never had that particular problem, although he knew it would probably happen when he got older. But it seemed as if only his body was interested in their activities, not his mind and heart. And since it took a certain amount of creative participation to make interspecies romance successful, Bant wasn't having much fun either. She needed a Force tickle in places Obi-Wan couldn't reach physically. Obi-Wan, in turn, felt that for once he needed a partner who could *kiss* him.
They parted unsatisfied, and Obi-Wan had the feeling that when they met again in the morning, it would be to dissolve their relationship.
He thought that he was doing a good job of hiding his hurt and profound disillusionment, but apparently it wasn't good enough. Almost as soon as he stepped into their quarters, Qui-Gon asked what was troubling him.
Obi-Wan shrugged. "It's Bant," he said in flat tones. He forced out a smile, trying to look grownup and casual about such things. "I think we're breaking up."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Has she found someone else?"
"No. At least -- no. She would have told me. It's just... something is missing. That spark. Whatever it was we had before, it's...gone." Obi-Wan sighed, staring at the display screen that served as a window in their wall-bound quarters. Qui-Gon could have chosen a view from any of a hundred worlds, yet he always programmed in a scene of Coruscant just outside the Jedi Temple, letting it change in real time.
"Ah. That happens, sometimes," Qui-Gon replied gently.
Obi-Wan scowled at his master. "You think it's because we're just kids, don't you? And we go through *phases* and never stay interested in anything or anyone for very long."
Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow. "Did I say anything of the sort?"
Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped. "No. I'm sorry, Master. I'm probably not going to be very good company for a while. I just...I really thought this would be forever. Do you know what I mean?"
"I know."
"Maybe I *am* too young. Maybe I really do have a terminally short attention span."
"Age has nothing to do with the validity of your feelings, Obi-Wan. And many an experienced adult has felt a beautiful attraction fade away and die over time." Qui-Gon hesitated a moment before asking, "Did you form a bond with Bant?"
"No." Obi-Wan's mouth folded sadly. "We talked about it, but we decided to wait." They had planned to prove to the world in general -- and their masters in particular -- just how steadfast they could be. But now it seemed that Bant wasn't as steadfast as she had promised. Or perhaps, deep down inside, Obi-Wan was the one who was fickle.
"That's good. It means you can still be friends, once the first disappointment is over." Qui-Gon's voice was soft and understanding.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't think so. I can't imagine sharing a meal with Bant and all our old friends, knowing..." He swallowed hard. "She's been my best friend since I was eleven, and now I don't know if I can even stand to talk to her again! I feel so ashamed." He scrubbed at his face angrily, telling himself that he was not even *tempted* to cry.
"Why should you be ashamed, Padawan? You've done nothing wrong."
"It was supposed to be *forever*, and we couldn't even make it last for two months once we were apart."
"Obi-Wan, not all relationships are meant to last. Permanence should not be the only measure for judging the success of a partnering. Did you not enjoy your time with Bant?"
Obi-Wan remembered the days of constant anticipation until he could see her again, and the nights of smiling languidly up at the ceilings, and all the delights that came between. "I suppose."
"And did you not learn a great deal?"
"I don't know what I learned." Not to trust his own heart, he suspected.
"Then perhaps you should meditate on the subject. But consider this, my young Padawan." Qui-Gon gestured at the display as it turned rosy with the slow setting of the sun. "Should the sunset be considered less beautiful because it lasts only a fraction of the day? Or should it be treasured for its brevity and uniqueness?"
"That's different. Sunsets aren't *supposed* to last. Love is. If it doesn't last, it isn't really love."
"No? Obi-Wan, there are hundreds of knights in this Temple who have never had a love relationship that lasted longer than a year or two. Should all of them be considered failures? Should they look back on their old loves with bitterness, or should they cherish those memories as gifts from the past?"
Obi-Wan stared sullenly at the fiery clouds. It wasn't the same, but he would never get Qui-Gon to understand that.
"Go to your room, Padawan. Or to one of the gardens, if you prefer. Meditate on the matter. You don't have to tell me what conclusion you reach unless you wish to, but I want your heart to be more at peace before we speak again."
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan collected his robe and headed, not for the Water Garden, which was Bant's favorite, but for the Stone Garden. Bant thought the place barren and unappealing, but whenever Obi-Wan looked at the beds of small stones, he thought of his first present from Qui-Gon. The place had private meaning for him, and he wasn't likely to meet anyone there who would insist on speaking with him.
He sat on a flat-topped slab of some sedimentary rock, watching the little silver flecks in the material gleam and change as twilight faded and the garden's muted lanterns came on. He thought about Bant, and his dreams for their life together. He had had such expectations, had imagined their future in such detail, and now all of that was gone. Was he supposed to feel no disappointment over the loss of all that glowing potential?
No, he decided at last. Disappointment was normal. It was a kind of grief for something that had never been. But just as it was the Jedi way during funerals to contemplate the beauty of the life that had been rather than the sadness of the passing, in the same way Qui-Gon wanted him to remember the sweetness of his memories of love rather than focusing on the absence in his heart.
It made a kind of sense. Certainly Obi-Wan had no wish to blot those wonderful days from his mind entirely. But he was afraid that he would never be able to love anyone else in quite the same way. He could never give his heart with the same surety, knowing as he did now that his feelings might change in a few months or perhaps years.
The life of a Jedi was full of change, naturally. Obi-Wan never knew where he would be sleeping or what he would be doing from one week to the next. And there was always an awareness of the greatest uncertainty of all: the simple fact that he might not be alive a day or a year or a decade from now. But within that ever-changing life, there were a few solid and immutable points. The eternal Force was the foremost of these. The Jedi Code, the ideal of service, and unceasing routines of the Temple provided other anchors of stability. Master Yoda himself, though he was hardly immortal, had been a constant in the lives of generations of Jedi. And for Obi-Wan, at least, there was always the surety of his master's love.
In that moment of realization, Obi-Wan's heart bloomed open and feelings burst forth that he had never guessed he was carrying within. He knew then that he *would* be able to give his love fully and freely and with the sure knowledge that it would be forever...so long as he was giving it to Qui-Gon.
Kneeling on the rock with his head tilted back and his arms spread wide, Obi-Wan let that glorious certainty pour through him until it seemed it was locked in every cell. Then he carefully tamped it down, coaxing his heart back into a curled bud and wrapping it about with shields. Some day he would touch those secret feelings again, but the time was not yet.
When he returned to their quarters, stiff and cold in the light of dawn, Obi-Wan's heart was as peaceful as any master could wish. And deep within, buried under layers of snow, the seed of love waited for the moment when Spring would arrive and it could blossom once more.
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