DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
Obi-Wan swung the practice saber around in an arc. Once it made contact with his Master’s, it withdrew, sweeping to the side and then returned, this time in an underswing. It was a dance of light, a rehearsal of power. He raised his hand, the saber’s hilt firmly clasped in his tilted palm. His Master’s blow was deflected. The young Padawan felt the Force urge him backward. He willingly followed its lead, his bare feet dancing back. As a result, there was air where he had been a moment later when his Master completed his turn and swing.
Knowing the edge of the mat to be near, Obi-Wan launched himself upward. He performed a flip and twist, landing behind his Master. The Padawan quickly adopted a relaxed battle pose. This was the image that confronted Qui-Gon when he turned.
“Quite good,” the Master commented as he adopted a similar pose. “Well done.”
Obi-Wan’s face quickly split with a grin. Equally as quick, his Master’s blade cut another arc. This time the green laser collided with the Padawan’s blue one near its hilt. The younger man had to readjust his weight just to keep his saber in his hand. His grin dissipated.
Qui-Gon’s voice was gentle but firm. “Mind your pride, it can endanger you. Disengage.”
The two men drew apart and saluted each other. The younger dropped his arms from the sign of respect with a sigh. Jinn could see the switch in this student’s demeanor and shook his head. The boy had come far in the five years he had been the Padawan’s teacher. One of his stumbling blocks still remained: his emotions. Although they were of a slighter nature now, they were still present. Whether it was pride or dejection, anger or joy, their mere presence made his submersion in the living Force impossible.
“Obi-Wan,” he began gently, moving to clasp his own saber, “ you are a fine swordsman…my equal in many ways. But….you must acknowledge you emotions. Acknowledge the emotions—release them. If you don’t, they will control you, use you. In order to channel the Force, your center and mind must be clear for the living Force to enter and exist.” His heavy hand landed on the younger man’s shoulder. “You will make a fine Knight, Obi-Wan. Do not let this come in your way. Rest, go meditate.”
The younger man hung his head and trudged to the corner of the room, his bare feet sticking to the practice mat. Qui-Gon watched him go. Then he turned to wipe his face on a towel brought for that purpose. Quickly, as he had been doing for the last few hours, he checked the healer’s bond that he had voluntarily formed with Larina. He could tell that the girl was nearby and doing relatively fine. The presence of his mind in hers helped to balance her, but left him slightly unbalanced. It was not a feeling that the Jedi Master was used to outside of a training bond, and was not one that he wanted repeated often. Damned distracting business it was, but necessary.
“Qui-Gon.”
The Jedi started at the presence of his friend at his elbow; he had not sensed Mace’s approach. “Yes, Mace?”
“You were a little harsh on the boy.” Qui-Gon turned to the other Master. Mace stood not five feet away with his hands folded serenely in the folds of his tunic sleeves.
“Mind your own business, Mace. You train your Padawans your way, I’ll train mine the way that I see fit.” Qui-Gon folded the towel with precision, a way of keeping his eyes averted. “I have my reasons.”
“He is eighteen, Qui-Gon. And emotions are not all bad; even Yoda will argue that point with you.”
“My old Master will argue any point with me, so long as it gets me to think.” Qui-Gon stared out the door that Obi-Wan had left. “Obi-Wan is a strong young man. His physical strength is great for his size and build, his mental forces are fine-tuned, and his emotions are strong. I have seen what can happen to a person who lets their emotions interfere with the calling of the Force, Mace, and his emotions are strong enough to cause that interference.”
Mace’s hand landed on his friend’s shoulder. “Is it Xanatos you talk of or yourself, Jinn?”
A slight shrug sent Mace’s hand away from the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “Both…”
“Xanatos….”
“was a stubborn, self-indulgent man. And I let him remain that way. I did not try to curb his emotions….” Qui-Gon picked up the towel and began to move off.
“It is not your fault that he fell to the Dark Side, Qui-Gon. It was his choice and his choice alone to act on those feelings. And as for your emotions, Qui-Gon…”
“I don’t wish to discuss that time in my life, old friend.” Qui-Gon’s voice was quiet as he turned to make eye contact with his friend. Mace winced at the coolness, the emotionless gaze that met his eyes. “I have learned my lesson twice, and that is twice more than I would wish on anyone else. I will work on Obi-Wan to distance from his emotions; I care for the man too much to allow him to feel the pain I have.”
Mace sighed as his friend turned and walked out the door, dragging his cloak behind him. Qui-Gon was an enigma. At once he would proclaim that he wanted to be without emotion, the next he was saying that his caring was too much. He was a contradiction walking.
Larina sprinted, less than two paces behind Master Qui-Gon and slightly ahead of Obi-Wan. The trio had been roused from sleep by the loud sounding of a siren wail. The constant irritation that rang their ears could only mean one of two things: they were being boarded, or someone was in trouble.
The door to the bridge swung open to admit the three of them.
“Ordilara.”
Ha’run nearly spit out the word as she turned to look at her apprentice. Larina walked the short distance to stand behind her teacher. Ordilara , indeed, she thought. “It is a distress call…sounding from there?”
Qui-Gon approached the viewport eyeing the planet suspiciously. His arms folded in front of him. As he neared, he sensed, rather than heard, the door behind him slide open. “This is unexpected, Mace.”
Mace eyed Qui-Gon out from the corner of his vision. The two stood gazing at the orb of green that hovered in space outside the viewport. Eventually, they both turned to face each other. Ordilara it was, but they could not turn away from a distress call.
“We’ll have to go down. We can’t knowingly turn away from a cry for help, even if it is centered on Ordilara.” Mace sighed. His hands found their way to his hips. “Together or separate?”
Ha’run lowered her tense shoulders and rotated them. A distress call from Ordilara was one of the most disturbing things that a Jedi could experience. It was a Force dead planet. There was no place to draw upon for a Jedi’s source of strength. This left Jedi warriors, healers or growers completely without the abilities to which they were accustomed. “We should go together. We might be able to summon enough life Force from a larger group as opposed to a smaller.” Her growled tone was low and menacing, showing her unease of the situation. “A group as large as this one might be able to generate enough Force as to be supportive.”
Qui-Gon nodded, joining Mace in the movement. “I agree. Safety does come in numbers.”
“But, Master,” Obi-Wan said, reading a computer data file, “the file says that we will be unable to use our Force abilities. How will we be able….”
“Consider it a test, Padawan.” Qui-Gon rumbled. “A test for all of us. What do we know of the current situation planetside?”
Obi-Wan straightened to his full height from in front of the computer screens. “Mild conflicts have been going on for the last two standard years. Three warring factions are involved: the Jilarans, the Yartidans and a third rebel faction. No large conventional battles have been logged by the Republic at this location. The battles appear to have been small, contained and of no notice for disruption on a planetary scale.”
“Hmmm.” Mace leaned back against the bulkhead with a sigh. “If they are sending a distress call, something about the whole situation must have changed to warrant it. Is that all the information we have at this time, Padawan?”
“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan flicked off the screen with a turn of his wrist.
“Then we must proceed with caution,” Qui-Gon commented, “and finish with this task as quickly as possible. Home in on the call, Obi-Wan. We need an accurate area for landfall.”
The younger Jedi nodded, his braid moving with force. He could feel tendrils of uncertainty surrounding his Master and something that might be considered fear. Just a slight muddling of their bond, nothing more, but enough to make the young apprentice edgy. Apparently Ordilara was going to be an ordeal, and Qui-Gon knew it. “Near the coast of the largest continent, Master. I am outputting the information to the navisystem on the shuttle.”
“Very good, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon gathered his cloak about his front and gazed at the planet hanging peacefully in space one last time. “Let’s go then.”
Mace grimaced as he opened the door quickly. “May the Force be with us, as it is able.”
Qui-Gon and Mace trudged ahead of the group, making their way to the landing deck. Their brown-black cloaks swept around their long legs, billowing by their movements alone. Ha’run and Larina followed Obi-Wan who trudged between the two groups, trying to, but falling short of, matching his Master’s long legged gait. Larina kept up easily with her Master, the last two evenings of rest had helped her to maintain her balance.
Larina was confused as to the silence that permeated the group as they moved to the hangar bay and into the landing shuttle. It was clear that there were ongoing conversations between the three warrior Jedi. She could tell simply by the facial expressions, but her healer’s link with Qui-Gon let her know when his mind was occupied elsewhere. And the link was letting her know that quite plainly. Mace and Qui-Gon were edgy about the task, and Obi-Wan was concerned with his Master’s emotional tide. An emotional tide that the young healer could see was swelling and growing around each of them. It was palpable, this feeling, and made Larina’s heart beat faster.
Larina kept her lips pressed tightly together to keep from biting them as they took their positions in the shuttle and piloted it out the hanger bay. It was often hard to separate herself from the feelings that surrounded her, but she had been working on it for most of her life. The chore, as she was surrounded with four very strong life-forces, was that there was so much uncertainty floating around her this time. Her Master’s paw on her shoulder helped to ground her. Ha’run could always tell when her student was being influenced by those feelings around her.
“This should only add a day, or at the most two, onto our arrival time on Coruscant, my student.” Ha’run growled in her ear. “And then this bond can be addressed. Do not fret about it. Center in the here and now.”
“Yes, my Master.” Larina hung her head and gazed at the planet as it grew to fill the entire viewport of the shuttle. Clouds in the atmosphere were growing in size; various geographical aspects were becoming large enough to determine.
As they passed through the outer bank of clouds, Larina felt the first twinge of the Force being drained from her. It was obvious on the faces of those surrounding her that it was affecting them all. “How?” she whispered in wonder.
Mace stated as he pushed the small shuttle down into the final, lower bank of clouds: “The planet is like a magnet for the Force-- it drags it inward and prevents its outflow. I think the term coined by our scientists is that of a Force Sink. It will not affect our midicholorians, only our usage of them.”
Larina nodded at the explanation and saw that Obi-Wan was doing the same. It was an interesting concept. Suddenly, though, the young woman pitched forward, grabbing one of the flight chairs as an immense wave of pain crushed her chest.
“Larina?!” Ha’run grasped at the woman, trying to push her down into the chair. The young apprentice went without a fight. The small paw of her hand landed on her student’s brow and pushed the woman’s head back to look at her eyes. Ha’run sighed heavily as she was confronted with Larina’s black eyes glazed over in pain. Her muscles were going rigid, tensing with no release. The Bond, thought the Jedi Healer.
“Qui-Gon.” The healer sounded firmly and with some urgency. The elder Jedi Master turned to look at his friend and then frowned. He pushed out of the flight chair and bounded across the small space, nearly knocking his Padawan over.
“The healer’s bond…” Qui-Gon squatted down in front of the girl, laying his hands on her shoulders and resting her back against the head rest.
“Is null and void without the Force, old friend.” Ha’run grunted unhappily as the ship rocked from side to side in the gravity of the planet. “It will be purely physical from now on, I am afraid.”
Qui-Gon grimaced, a scowl to rival an angry lion. “That will make things very difficult, Ha’run.” His hand rested on Larina’s cheek. The girl was slowly coming out of the grips of pain, but not entirely coherent as yet.
Ha’run rested her hand against her student’s head with gentleness. “I know, Qui-Gon, I know. But necessary if we want to keep her sane and functioning.”
Qui-Gon uttered a curse that had not graced his lips in an age. A mission on Ordilara was hell enough; a fight was sure to happen. And to face the fight while having a girl in some way physically linked with him was nearby impossible. As the ship bumped heavily in the last bits of the flight, Qui-Gon wondered at the will of the Force in this matter…and what he had done to deserve this turn of karma.