Qui-Gon stood to his feet instantly, shaking. “I have to find out who did this.”

“Hold on,” Bel-San lifted his palms, his tone quiet. “Wait. You haven’t slept in days. You haven’t eaten in longer. You’re not going to do--”

“I have to know. Now.” His friend stumbled by the table, knocking his lightsaber onto the floor. He scrabbled over the carpet, finally picking up his weapon and slipping it into his belt, his expression tight. “Whoever it is will pay. I will see to that personally.”

Bel-San gulped back a gasp. “You have every right to be angry, Qui-Gon, but you aren’t thinking cearly right now. Yoda wouldn’t want you to--”

“How would you know what he would want? Now we will never know, will we?” Bel-San saw the veins along Qui-Gon’s temples stand out on his pale skin. Qui-Gon turned away, his shoulders bent as if the robe draped over his back weighed more than the universe itself. “I am tired of being patient. What did being patient get me? If I had known. . .I would have knocked aside the entire Council for one last chance to speak with my Master. But now that’s not possible. That bastard Mace made sure that--”

“Mace didn’t know he was going to die, Qui-Gon.” Bel-San kept his voice level and quiet.

Qui-Gon clenched his fists, pressing them to his sides. “Well, I hope that keeps his conscience clear! So what, now he gets to spend my Master’s last moments at his side? Council’s little protege; we wouldn’t want blundering maverick unreliable Qui-Gon to screw up our investigation. And we all know how brilliant the Council is at cracking these cases. . .that’s why Guod ended up kidnapping my Padawan and blasting me in the chest. Another job well done for the Jedi Council.”

“Listen to me. You need--”

Qui-Gon held up a palm as he interrupted. “There is only one way for my anger to be satisfied, and that will be to ensure the bastard who killed my Master is dead.”

Bel-San reached out to lay a hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder, but Qui-Gon shrugged off his touch. “Okay. That’s it. You’re talking crazy talk now. You need sleep, and then we will figure out what to do next.”

Qui-Gon’s bloodshot eyes blinked quickly. “No, I am not going to sleep. I am leaving now. You stay with Obi-Wan. I will find whoever did this and I am going to make him scream like--”

Bel-San shook his head, sighing. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “I’m sorry, that’s not the side of the Force we use, remember? Come on. Give me your lightsaber; you are going to bed right now.”

Qui-Gon looked at the door, and Bel-San closed his eyes, preparing to draw on the Force. He had only ever used the Force on his friend once before, and he knew it would take a good bit of his strength to put him out.

He grabbed Qui-Gon’s wrist, and his friend growled, “What is your problem? Just leave me the f--”

“Goodnight.” Bel-San released a sizable Force wave into Qui-Gon’s mind, and the other Jedi’s tall form collapsed on the carpet.

Bel-San held a hand to each of his temples, wincing as the reverberating pain in his head made him feel as if he was spinning. “Force, that hurt.” Qui-Gon’s level of resistance was impressively high, but days without sustenance and rest had subdued his defenses. Still, he knew he’d have a headache for awhile after using that much power. Bel-San grunted with effort as he turned his friend onto his back, making sure Qui-Gon was breathing easily. Falling back with a sigh, he sat cross-legged on the carpet beside his friend, closing his eyes. He knew the pain of losing a Master; it was something that would only heal with time, and even then, there would always be scars. But Qui-Gon couldn’t afford to fall apart, because even Bel-San could see how much pain Obi-Wan was in as well. He only hoped they would both be in better frames of mind after getting some rest. Bel-San took a deep breath as he reached out to the Force, seeking a thin line of peace, but no calm came.

***

Qui-Gon felt a cool hand brush his cheek, and he stirred, blinking at the oppressive darkness that cloaked him. His vision slowly focused, and he looked up to see Obi-Wan’s concerned expression hovering above him.

“Obi-Wan. . .”

The boy, standing at his bedside, brushed his hand gently over Qui-Gon’s head, in the same way he often did to his Padawan. “You were very tired, Master.”

Thinking back, Qui-Gon remembered standing in the common room talking to Bel-San. He was now in his bed, with several quilts thrown over his body. Sitting up for a moment, he felt the remnants of an impressive Force wave still lingering in his mind. “How did I get in here?”

Obi-Wan climbed up beside him, and Qui-Gon sighed with relief when he saw the dark circles under the boy’s eyes were much lighter; at least the boy had slept. “Bel-San called Payter and they put you in bed. Bel-San said he made you go to sleep. He said that you gave him a bad headache.”

Smiling slightly, Qui-Gon reflexively wrapped an arm around his Padawan, and Obi-Wan snuggled into the crook of his elbow. He could feel the small boy’s heartbeat pressing against the inside of his forearm, slowing as Obi-Wan finally relaxed. “Did you sleep all right?”

“Um, I guess.”

“You didn’t have any dreams, did you?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, but said nothing.

He sensed Obi-Wan tentatively reaching out to him through their bond, and he mustered up the strength to send a small comforting wave back. “Are you all right, Obi-Wan?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How long were you waiting for me to wake up?”

“Um, I don’t know. I knew you would wake up soon so I came in.” Looking up at the ceiling, Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Where is Master Yoda now?”

Qui-Gon felt a band of air constrict around his heart. He licked his dry lips, trying to think of what to say. Obi-Wan had never experienced death before, and he wasn’t sure how best to explain things even he had to take on faith. Clearing his throat, he finally found his voice. “Remember how we talked about how the Force is all around us?”

Obi-Wan nodded, eyes wide.

“When Master Yoda’s spirit left. . .his body, he became one with the Force.” Qui-Gon closed his eyes for a moment, startled to hear the words coming out of his own mouth.

“So Master Yoda is. . .all around us? Can we see him?”

Qui-Gon bit his lip, sighing. “It’s not quite like that. He’s not gone from us, but it’s not the way it was before. He is at peace now--”

“Is he with other Jedi too? He’s not alone, is he?” Obi-Wan sounded worried.

“I. . .Yes, he’s with other Jedi too.” Qui-Gon brushed a hand over Obi-Wan’s hair, trying to quiet the emotions swirling inside him. These were questions even he had; he gave the answers that provided him with the most comfort. “Every once in a while. . .sometimes. . .Jedi that have di--become one with the Force--tell us things. Sometimes they guide us on our way when we need help.”

Obi-Wan remained silent for a moment. “Why doesn’t Master Yoda come and talk to you now? You miss him. He should come.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes burned, and he turned away, brushing at them. “That is up to the will of the Force.”

“I’m sorry you’re sad, Master,” Obi-Wan said, patting Qui-Gon’s large hand with his own small one. “I wish I could fix things.”

Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon squeezed his Padawan in a brief hug before he spoke. “I’m just glad you’re here, Little One.”

The last time he’d endured a major loss was his last Padawan, and Qui-Gon had wanted nothing to do with nearly everyone for a long while. It had been weeks before he was willing to speak with Bel-San, and even then, he had signed up for as many off-planet missions as he could. He was surprised at himself; he actually welcomed the boy’s presence in spite of the despair that threatened to take hold of his consciousness. It was as if having Obi-Wan beside him kept the deepest levels of sorrow at bay.

I wonder if that’s why Yoda wanted him with me. What if he knew? Qui-Gon absently smoothed a hand over the small boy’s head as he let his mind wander. Did my Master foresee this all? If it wasn’t for Obi-Wan, I don’t know how--

“Master?”

Qui-Gon felt the small boy’s hand tighten around his own. “Yes?”

“Promise me you won’t go too.”

He narrowed his gaze, studying Obi-Wan’s expression. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan gripped his hand tightly. “Just don’t leave.” Swallowing, he turned his large blue eyes on Qui-Gon. “Like Yoda.”

“But why would you think I would leave?”

Obi-Wan’s voice came slowly, muffled slightly by Qui-Gon’s arm as the boy shrunk underneath it. “Because your Master left and now you’re my Master and I don’t want you to die too because you miss your Master and you want to see him.”

Sitting up, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan against his chest, rocking him slowly. “I’m not going anywhere, Little One. I promise.” They spent the next few minutes in silence, and Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan tugging on their bond periodically, almost like a tow line, ensuring that they were still indeed connected. He didn’t know who to worry for more: himself or his Padawan.

“Qui-Gon?”

Bel-San stuck his curly-haired head into the open doorway, his voice slightly above a whisper.

“We’re in here. You can come in.”

Obi-Wan lifted his head from Qui-Gon’s shoulder, and Bel-San took a few steps into the dimly lit room. “La’Re is here to see you, Obi-Wan. She was hoping maybe you two could talk for a little while. Would that be okay?”

Qui-Gon always admired how well Bel-San could communicate with children, especially in tense situations. Obi-Wan did not release his hold, but he turned to look at Bel-San. “We can talk in my room?”

“If that’s what you’d like. You don’t have to leave the apartment if you don’t want to.”

Obi-Wan nodded quickly. “Don’t wanna leave. We can talk in my room.” He turned back to Qui-Gon, his expression taut with concern. “I’ll be back soon. You stay here with Master Bel-San, ‘kay?”

Qui-Gon nearly smiled at the six-year-old instructing him where to go, but he nodded seriously and helped Obi-Wan down. “Bel-San and I will be here if you need us.”

Reaching out a hand, Bel-San led Obi-Wan down the hall to the other chamber, and moments later, his friend stepped back into his room, shutting the door. “La’Re was anxious to speak with him. I hope that will help.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, sighing. “I am so sorry. About earlier. And now. You don’t need to be here--”

“Please. I recall someone stopping by my apartment at least twice a day to make sure I ate something for, oh, I don’t know, a month after Sy-Mon died. I probably would have starved to death.” Bel-San cracked a tight-lipped smile. “And that’s a credit to your cooking, you know.”

Leaning back against the pillows, Qui-Gon tapped a finger to his head. “You must have had a bantha-sized migraine after that stunt you pulled.”

Bel-San rolled his eyes. “Well, I couldn’t let you leave the apartment armed and dangerous. Besides, my headache is nothing compared to Payter’s; all I had to do was knock you out. He had to Force-lift you to your room.”

“I seem to be inconveniencing everyone today.”

“Don’t be like that, Qui-Gon. You are going through a lot right now and you need a few friends on your side.”

Qui-Gon took a breath, about to refute his friend, but he thought better of it. “I need to know some things.”

Settling into the desk chair, Bel-San folded his arms across his chest. “Such as?”

“Is Obi-Wan okay?”

Bel-San tried to cover a yawn unsuccessfully. “I think you’d probably know better than I would.”

“You’re not answering my question. From your point of view, is he doing okay?”

Bel-San sighed. “I don’t know if I have much authority to say.”

“You’re a Teacher, Bel-San. Don’t play stupid with me, no matter how good you are at it.”

Bel-San smirked, but his mirthful expression disappeared swiftly as he opened his mouth to speak. “Look. La’Re will know more after they talk. But he’s frightened, and he’s seeing visions that he doesn’t understand. He did get some sleep, and I coaxed him into eating a little toast, but he’s been worried sick about you.”

“I know.” Qui-Gon scrubbed a hand over his face, surprised at how scruffy his beard felt under his fingers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d trimmed it. “I wish he could have told me what he dreamed about. . .maybe I could have said something, or done something--”

Bel-San sighed, blowing all the air out of his mouth. “He’s trying to protect you, don’t you get it?” His friend gestured with his hands, stumbling as his words came faster. “Qui-Gon, he saw Yoda’s death. Now he’s seeing other things too. . .some of which may be true but some of which may be merely nightmares.”

Qui-Gon winced, closing his eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Bel-San. I can’t help him with this. . .I can’t even help myself! All I want to do is ask my Master what to do and I can’t. The only person who can help me is gone and there is nothing I can do.” He swallowed with great difficulty, fighting back the emotions building up behind his eyes. “Did your Master ever speak to you? Afterward?”

A rigid silence stretched between them for a moment, but Bel-San pursed his lips and spoke. “Only once.” His friend sat forward, leaning on his hands. “It wasn’t long after. . .I was still in the Infirmary. They weren’t even sure I was. . .well, you remember how it was. I started to get the idea in my head I was dying, and I was in so much pain I was beginning to welcome the thought. But he appeared one night, and he told me not to be afraid. He said that I would become a fine Jedi knight.” Bel-San shook his head slowly. “And then he was gone again.”

Qui-Gon suddenly realized he had been holding his breath, and he took several quick ones to make up for the lack. “He was right, you know.”

“What?”

“About you.”

Bel-San looked away, and he folded his hands over his knees. “Thank you.” His friend sighed, and spoke again. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

***

Obi-Wan bit his lip to keep it from trembling. He didn’t want Master La’Re to know how scared he truly was; Jedi weren’t supposed to be afraid. He knew his Master had told him sometimes Jedi were frightened, but he didn’t know what to think anymore.

“Are you still with me, Obi-Wan?”

Master La’Re’s voice was soft, gentle as warm water. He nodded, shifting his crossed legs on his sleepcouch. She sat beside him, and Obi-Wan looked up at her kind face. “What are we going to do?”

“I want you to try and relax first, okay? I know this is scary for you, but I know that you want to help your Master and the Council. I will be with you, and the Force will guide us both, okay?”

Obi-Wan nodded again, taking a deep breath. He had to be brave for his Master.

“Here. I need you to lay down. You’ll be more comfortable, all right?” Obi-Wan complied, settling down on top of his mussed sheets. “I am just going to put my hand on your forehead, okay? It’ll make it easier for us to stay connected.” He felt her warm fingertips rest on his head, and he closed his eyes.

“Is this. . .going to hurt?” He braced himself, afraid of her answer.

“No. Not at all. And I am with you, remember? We’re just going to try and find out a little more about some of the dreams you had. It won’t hurt, I promise.” She reached out with her other hand and gripped his in a comforting hold. “We’re going to be a team, and I will talk you through every step of the way.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

Obi-Wan held his breath and then released it. “Um, yes.”

He felt a thick wave of the Force pass over his mind, and suddenly he found himself in a heavy fog, which gradually cleared. He felt cold. Suddenly, he realized where he was.

“La’Re--” he croaked.

“Shh, Obi-Wan. It’s okay. Stay with me.”

The Infirmary was quiet. Underneath the pristine white sheets, he saw Master Yoda’s small form, surrounded by the robed members of the Council. Master Gallia was crying. He felt a crest of power surge through the Force, and when he looked back, Master Yoda was gone.

He sucked in a sob. The scene before them faded from view, only to be replaced by another.

They were in a dark room now, and he stretched out his senses, trying to hear the voices. Someone was speaking in a voice that hurt, an alien buzzing that made him want to clap hands over his ears. He felt a wash of fear pass over his mind, and he clung tightly to La’Re’s hand, afraid he might lose her connection and be trapped in here forever.

“I want to go--” he tried to speak. His voice didn’t want to work.

La’Re’s voice responded in his mind. :It’s all right. Just a little more.:

A few moments later the buzzing stopped, and he sighed with relief. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand the sound. He looked around, and they were in the apartment again, except it was full of Jedi Masters and other people he didn’t know. Turning towards the corner, he saw Bel-San, and his eyes were wet. Obi-Wan’s heart started to pound, hard enough to make his body shake. He remembered this. He knew what was going to happen, and he didn’t think he could see it happen again.

“No...!”

La’Re’s grip tightened on his hand, but he barely felt anything. “Master. . .”

His Master lay still on his bed, eyes closed, and his form grew slowly less visible.

“Obi-Wan, hold on, it’s all right--”

He cried out, and he closed his eyes, refusing to watch. La’Re’s voice was pressing into his mind, but he pulled deeper into himself, throwing up hasty shields as best he could to ward off the scene before him.

The warm fingers on his forehead slipped away, and Obi-Wan opened his eyes to find himself back in his room, with Master La’Re looking down at him. She looked afraid.

“Obi-Wan, are you all right?”

He tried to sit up, but he felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of him. Tears started to slide out from the corners of his eyes, and he shuddered, turning away from her. “Don’t make me do that again. Please.”

Master La’Re sighed, patting his chest. “I’m sorry, Obi-Wan. I didn’t realize that. . .I was hoping that would be less frightening for you. But I want you to know that you are going to learn how to control this, all right? You have a gift for foresight, and it will help you in the future. Right now it seems strange, but as you get older you’ll be able to tell the difference from nightmares and true visions from the Force.”

Obi-Wan struggled to catch his breath. “Can’t you make it stop? I don’t want to have dreams anymore.” His stomach twisted, and he hoped that he wouldn’t be sick. He didn’t like throwing up.

“I could try.” She smoothed a hand over his sweaty hair. “But right now, you may be the only person here who can help us figure out what happened to Master Yoda. I know you don’t want to have dreams anymore, but if you think you can be brave, it might help us all.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, feeling tears well up again. “Master La’Re?”

“Yes?”

“Just promise you won’t tell my Master. About the last dream.”

La’Re brushed a loose piece of hair from her vision. “I promise.”

TBC