“No, you can leave him there. It won’t bother me.” Qui-Gon shifted over slightly on the hoverbed, painfully aware of the stiffness in his body.

Healer Charr’a stood beside his bed, a concerned expression lining her face. “You need rest. He’s going to disturb you.”

Running a hand gently over Obi-Wan’s back, Qui-Gon shook his head. “No. I want to be near him when he wakes. It’s important.” During their flight home, the boy had fallen asleep, and although it had been nearly ten hours since their arrival in the Temple Infirmary, he still slept on. “You’re sure he’s going to be all right?”

“He’s drawn on more Force energy than he’s ever drawn before. His system has depleted itself.” She laid her hand on his head. “Even though you need some peace, it is better for him to be with you. After we brought you in, we took him away to examine him, but his vital signs didn’t stabilize until I brought him back here with you. He may not be conscious, but he knows where you are, and he only wants to be there.” Charr’a gave him a thin-lipped smile, the worried lines on her face softening somewhat. “It’s a miracle you all made it back alive.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, nodding. He could still feel the residual effects of his reaction to the Feeders; even moving his hands seemed to require a monumental amount of effort. He imagined the others must feel the same. “Where is everyone? We all came in together, didn’t we?”

“You were the first one to wake up, so we brought you to the recovery rooms. We’re still waiting on everyone else.”

“What about Kerge? How is he?” Qui-Gon only remembered brief moments from the trip home, but he did recall the mention of poison in relation to the young Padawan.

Charr’a sighed, but nodded slowly. “Payter nearly lost the boy. It was debatable for a few hours, but he’s made good progress. We’re all breathing a little easier now.”

Many questions swirled in Qui-Gon’s mind; he wanted to know all that had taken place, but his head still felt thick. Still, now that he knew his Padawan and the others were safe, all that remained was his Master. “But what about--”

“I think that’s enough out of you for the moment.” She held up a hand. “You need to sleep. All your questions can be answered later.”

“But Charr’a--”

“Please don’t make me repeat myself.” Her tone was not discourteous, but held the commanding power of an experienced Healer. “I’ll be back to check on you soon. Rest now.”

She left the room, and Qui-Gon heard only the quiet sound of Obi-Wan’s even breathing. The boy lay on his stomach by Qui-Gon’s side, his chin tipped slightly in Qui-Gon’s direction. Studying his tiny form, Qui-Gon watched the steady pulsebeat in his throat, moving slowly in the rhythm of his sleep. “I’m here, Little One.” He smoothed a hand over his Padawan’s head, finally resting it in the warm hollow of his neck.

Although his mind tensed slightly from the effort, Qui-Gon reached out through the Force along their bond, sensing the boy’s signature. He knew Obi-Wan’s was a dreamless sleep, brought on from sheer exhaustion. A slight tremor moved through the boy’s slender body, and Qui-Gon realized the child was chilled. Arranging the blankets to accommodate the boy, he moved closer to him, trying to share his warmth.

With every rise and fall of Obi-Wan’s chest, he released a silent stream of thanks to the Force. When the blaster fire had ripped through the chamber, Obi-Wan had been his first priority, but when the Feeder flies attacked, he had no way to protect his Padawan; he hadn’t been able to protect himself. As his body had begun to shut down from their venom, he had nearly panicked with thoughts of the boy left alone to fend for himself. He couldn’t believe that Obi-Wan had been the one to save them all, and himself twice over.

“We’re going to be all right, Little One. I promise.” Closing his eyes, Qui-Gon finally allowed his body to relax. Within moments, he felt a wave of warm weariness sweep over his mind, and he slipped into sleep.

***

“Negotiation? You call that negotiation? Where I come from, we call that asinine.” Payter’s growling tone seeped into Qui-Gon’s dreams, finally rousing him from sleep.

Plo Koon snorted. “I was more than within Council guidelines--”

“What Council are you on? Because the last time I checked, the Jedi Council doesn’t attack first and ask questions later.”

Plo Koon’s tone grew dangerously quiet, and Qui-Gon blinked, trying to clear his head. “Please! You presume too much. I am a Council member; you’re a special missions task force--”

“I can do more than you ever will, but I even I know better than to do what you did.”

Rubbing his temples, Qui-Gon looked around the large recovery room, surprised to see several other beds set up beside him and across the room.

“Qui-Gon! I’m glad you’re awake. You’ll back me up on this, won’t you? Tell Plo Koon he needs to take Basic Negotiation 101 before we let him out of this Temple again.” Payter flicked him a quick smile, his teeth gleaming white beneath the pale lighting, and Qui-Gon shook his head slightly.

“Is everyone all right?” Qui-Gon looked around, wincing as his neck pulled painfully. “I don’t see Kerge yet.”

At the sound of the boy’s name, Payter’s rough confidence seemed to disappear momentarily, replaced by outright concern. “He’s still with the Healers. I wanted to be with him, but I couldn’t talk Charr’a into it.”

Mace gave Qui-Gon a wobbly smile from across the room, where he lay beneath several white blankets. “She sedated him. He only woke up about fifteen minutes ago, not long after I did.”

Payter narrowed his gaze, crossing his arms over his chest. “That witch. What do they think, that they can run around knocking out every Shistavenian that walks in here?”

“You could barely stand. You were about three seconds away from passing out,” Mace said pointedly as he yawned.

“That’s not the point. The point is, I don’t appreciate people pumping me full of chemicals.”

Qui-Gon felt a smile tug at his lips, and he gave in to the urge as he watched his friends. Despite their somewhat dilapidated condition, he found his bedridden companions surrisingly amusing. “So when are we getting out of here?”

“I don’t know about this ‘we’ terminology, Jinn. You’re the one with secret allergies and tendencies to slip into comas. It’s a pretty good thing your Padawan was slick enough to stow away, or you might have been history. But then, we all would have been, if not for Obi-Wan. How he knew about that bomb I’ll never know.” Payter scratched his chin, his dark eyes on the boy by Qui-Gon’s side. “How is he?”

Qui-Gon moved his hand idly across Obi-Wan’s back, smoothing the blankets that covered them both. “He’s still asleep. I’ve never seen him so tired.”

“Well, you sure know how to pick them, Qui-Gon.” Mace spoke softly, his tone reassuring. “You should have seen him; he was the one who moved you from the chamber to the ship.”

Taken aback by his friend’s words, he said nothing for a moment. “I think this mission brought out a lot of unexpected strengths and weaknesses for all of us.”

Plo Koon breathed loudly through his mask, his eyes on all three of them. “I feel no remorse for what I did. If I hadn’t, they would have attacked first. The Jedi do not drop their guards when they are threatened; we meet the attack head-on.” He looked at Qui-Gon. “And although your Padawan did save us all, he never should have been there.”

Swallowing back the retort that wanted to spill across his tongue, Qui-Gon reigned in his knee-jerk reaction to defend his boy. “You’re right. He never should have been there. None of us should have. If we had listened--if I had listened--to his visions and believed what he was describing to me, we would have known we were walking into a trap. The Force was trying to reach us, but we weren’t prepared to follow its guidance.”

A quick laugh came from Payter, and Qui-Gon watched his friend in confusion. “You’re unbelievable, Qui-Gon. You’ve barely been coherent for ten minutes, and you’re already trying to negotiate with the Council. That’s got to be a record somewhere.”

“Yes, well. Anything to keep the rest of you from arguing for the next ten hours.”

Mace smiled weakly. “Oh, we’ll be doing that regardless; there’s nothing you can do to stop that.”

“I tried. Too bad I already know trying isn’t a very helpful thing to do.” Qui-Gon’s thoughts drifted to his Master, and he felt the many questions still floating in his mind surface once more. Had he awakened? What would become of him?

Payter pointed a furry finger at the Council member beside him. “Seriously, Plo. What were you thinking? I mean, you can’t honestly believe you had just cause to turn your lightsaber on during a peace talk.”

“Will you never stop? I told you already, I had more than just cause, I had proof of threat.” Plo Koon sighed, closing his eyes.

“Proof? What sort? Was it when the Lieryl said the talks were over or was it when they stood there not attacking us?”

“How about the fact Master Yoda nearly died? Or perhaps it was when she said that--”

“There you are!” A voice sounded from out in the corridor, followed quickly by its owner into the room. “I think they deliberately change this place around just to mess with my mind.”

“Bel-San. Good to see you,” Qui-Gon gave his friend a slight smile, and Bel-San stepped into the recovery room, his quick eyes darting to each of their faces.

“You all look horrible!” Bel-San shook his head, mouth open. “I have to say, I have never seen you look so bad.”

Payter growled beneath his breath. “Thank you. But then, Lieryl peace talks gone awry, blaster fire, poison darts, Feeder flies, and a bomb threat doesn’t do much for one’s appearance.”

“Feeder flies? Oh. That explains why your face looks all puffy--”

Qui-Gon raised a hand, cutting off Bel-San. “How are things in the Temple?”

Pulling over a swivel chair, the curly-haired Jedi sat lightly, turning to speak to all of them at once. “It’s been very strange. We got word from the Senate that the Republic would be handling the situation with Lieryl, so we knew things couldn’t have gone well for you. Apparently they’re sending a fleet; all I know is that we’re no longer involved. There hasn’t been any talk yet of a memorial service for Master Yoda, although a few of the Masters have been thinking about...” Bel-San eyed them curiously. “What? Why do you look like that?”

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. He had wanted to tell Bel-San more than anything before his departure, but he hadn’t even been able to tell Payter. It had been a terrible deception, and although he wanted no part of it, he had been forced to remain silent. He looked quickly at Mace, who gave a slight nod.

“There’s some things we need to talk to you about...about the mission, about Master Yoda--”

Bel-San shook his head, breaking in. “But what happened at the peace talks? Who fired first? That’s what I want to know.”

“Before that, Bel-San--”

Bel-San held up a hand. “It was you, wasn’t it? We heard someone drew their lightsaber and all hell broke loose. I swear, Qui-Gon--”

“It wasn’t me! It was Plo Koon.” Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, growing exasperated. “That’s not fair. I didn’t tell them to fire. They chose that on their own.” Plo Koon looked at the ceiling.

“That’s an admission of guilt if I ever heard it! Mace! Quick, write that down, put it in the Council files.” Payter’s voice grew louder as he spoke over the others’ voices. “You heard it!”

“I said nothing of the sort! I am a Council member, and you would do well to respect that.”

“I will, when you respect the Council rules, like we use the Force to defend, not to attack,” Payter sneered.

“And I’m sure you didn’t attack anyone last year during the Ulina mission; what was your excuse? You couldn’t understand them because of their accents? We had a tough time cleaning up your mess that time--”

“Oh, you would dredge up old stories like that and throw them in my face, how typical--”

“Enough!”

Qui-Gon felt an all-encompassing surge of the Force wash over his consciousness, and he turned to the doorway.

“Stop this nonsense you will, or make you stop I will.”

Every sound in the room vanished, and not one of them breathed for what seemed like several minutes. Qui-Gon stared at his Master’s diminutive form, which barely took up a quarter of the doorway, and he thought his chest might burst with elation. He had never been so glad to see him in his life.

“Master Yoda...” Bel-San’s voice cracked, and he stood shakily to his feet. “You’re alive!”

Master Yoda’s eyes narrowed slightly in Mace and Plo Koon’s direction. “Put in stasis against my direction, I was. Discuss that we will, have my word you do. Pleased with that I am not.” He slammed his gimmer stick against the floor, and the sound echoed in the large chamber. “Deception you used. Lied to the Temple, you did. Seek the will of the Force you did not. Support your decisions, I do not.”

Silence ensued until Yoda cleared his throat and spoke again. “But glad to see you all returned alive I am. Killed, you might have been. Thankful I am to see you home safely.”

Bel-San turned to Qui-Gon, his face an unreadable mask of confusion and betrayal. “You knew. Not right away, but you knew. And you never said a word.” He turned to Mace, clenching his fists. “And you! You have no scruples, do you? You lied to your friends! To the children!”

Qui-Gon cleared his throat, trying to head off his friend’s hurt feelings. “Bel-San...wait. It wasn’t like that. I found out right before we left for Lieryl, and there wasn’t enough time for me to--”

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it. Thanks a lot for trusting me.” Bel-San shook his head, starting to walk from the room. “And after all I did...I swear, you must all think I am the most ignorant Jedi ever. And thanks to you, I am.”

“Don’t leave...wait, Bel-San!” Qui-Gon sat up, feeling pain rocket down his spine.

“Whatever. I don’t need this right now.” Bel-San stormed out of the chamber, his angry footfalls echoing on the tiles down the corridor.

Master Yoda flicked his pointed ears back against his head, musing. “Find him later, I will. Speak to him, I will.” Turning to the others, Master Yoda gave them a slow nod. “Speak to my Padawan I must. Mace, Payter, Plo Koon--talk later we will.”

Several Healers entered the recovery room, and activated the hoverbeds, moving the other Jedi from the chamber, leaving Qui-Gon alone with his Master.

Using a stool, Master Yoda climbed up to be at eye level with Qui-Gon. “Much has happened to you. Sense it, I do.” He reached out a three-fingered hand, and Qui-Gon took it gently.

“Master.” He looked up into his mentor’s green face, and he found no reprimand, but only concern. “I truly believed we’d lost you.”

“Hurt badly, you have been.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, resting his other hand on Obi-Wan’s back. “I’ve been hurt far worse before, you know that.”

“Confused you are of what I speak. Not pain of the body, but of the spirit.” Master Yoda gave his hand a slight squeeze. “Sorry I am for the deception the Council caused. Much pain there is in the Temple. But peace there will be, through the Force it is always there.”

“Master...so much has happened, I don’t know where to start. But to know that you’re alive, you don’t know what that means to me.” Qui-Gon swallowed back the emotions that threatened to overtake him, closing his eyes for a moment.

Yoda smiled gently. “Went to the Lieryl on my behalf you did. Yet act out of malice you did not. Proud of you I am, Padawan. Though with you I could not be, watch you I did. Strengths you did not know existed you found. Found them your Padawan did as well. See you now why bonded you are?” Yoda nodded at the small boy by Qui-Gon’s side. “As you and I were, so you and the boy shall be.”

Qui-Gon studied his Master’s lined face. “You see this...the Force revealed this to you?”

“Need the Force to know this I do not, but see the bond between you I can. Strong as ours once was, it is.” Yoda sighed quietly, satisfied. “A fine Master you are. And a fine Padawan you have.”

Qui-Gon held the boy close, aware suddenly of how he clasped the past in one hand, and the future in the other. “He has suffered greatly; perhaps even more than I have. Will he be all right? He has had visions, ones he can’t control...”

Master Yoda brushed a hand over Obi-Wan’s forehead, and he made a thoughtful sound. “Passed, the visions have. When learn to control his emotions the boy does, control the visions he will. Until then, help him you will. Help him I will as well.” Master Yoda let go of Qui-Gon’s hand slowly, and the diminutive Jedi climbed down from the seat, giving Qui-Gon a nod. “Rest, I must. Much healing there is left to be done, for you, for me, for all of us. But see you again soon I will.”

Qui-Gon sighed, fully relieved for the first time since that fateful morning. “Master...I...” His voice stopped, and he couldn’t speak. There was no way to convey what he wanted to say.

“Know already, I do.” Yoda smiled. “See to Obi-Wan you should; awake he will be soon.” Master Yoda moved slowly out of the room, relying heavily on his stick. “Take care, my Padawan.”

Several minutes after his Master left the chamber, Qui-Gon felt a sudden pull on his bond with Obi-Wan, and he sensed the boy’s slow ascent out of slumber. Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan reached out with both arms, pulling himself closer to Qui-Gon. “Master?” His voice sounded hollow and small.

“I’m here, Little One.” He slipped an arm around his Padawan, and Obi-Wan settled himself against Qui-Gon’s chest. “You’re safe.”

“Master...you’re all right.” Obi-Wan blinked, his mouth turned upwards slightly. “I think I slept for a long time.”

“You did, Little One. You were very tired.” He stroked the boy’s hair, aware of the quiet waves of contentment that passed along their bond. Sending his Padawan a surge of encouragement, Obi-Wan looked up a moment later, giving Qui-Gon a lopsided smile.

“I’m glad you’re awake. You were starting to worry me. How are you feeling?”

Obi-Wan rubbed at his eyes with a fist. “Um, I don’t know. My head feels funny.”

He brushed his hand over the boy’s forehead. “I’m not surprised after all that happened.”

Eyeing Qui-Gon critically, Obi-Wan pursed his lips. A moment later, Qui-Gon felt a tug on their bond; the boy was actually trying to read his signature. Trying not to laugh at the boy’s efforts, he gave him an encouraging smile. “Obi-Wan, what are you doing?”

Obi-Wan stopped, relaxing tense muscles. “You’re okay. The bugs...I thought they hurt you.”

“They almost did. It was a good thing you were paying attention or I could have gotten very sick.” Qui-Gon knew it could have been more dire than that, but there was no need to bring up that fact.

“And then the ship. And then I don’t remember.”

Qui-Gon met the boy’s questioning gaze. “You saved me...you saved all of us.” “I told you that you needed me.” There was no accusation in his tone; the boy simply spoke matter-of-factly.

Qui-Gon nodded. “You’re right. I did. I was wrong to try to keep you from the mission. I should have listened to you, and I’m very sorry for not hearing what you were trying to tell me.”

Yawning, the boy shifted slightly. “That’s okay.” He bit his lip, looking away. “So you’re not mad at me for sneaking on with Kerge?”

Qui-Gon sighed, patting Obi-Wan’s back. “We’ll talk about that later. But for now, I’m just glad that we got home safely. And you are the reason we all survived, because you were listening to the Force. I am very proud of you, Padawan.”

Tucking his head against Qui-Gon’s chest, Obi-Wan wrapped his tiny arm over Qui-Gon’s stomach. “I had a dream. I dreamt Master Yoda came here and talked to you. And you were happy.”

Qui-Gon hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say. He already felt guilty enough after Bel-San’s reaction; he didn’t want Obi-Wan to have a similar experience. “There’s something I need to tell you about Master Yoda, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan nodded, but then began to speak. “But then it wasn’t a dream. Master Yoda was here. I felt him. And that’s why I woke up. I wanted to tell you that he was okay, and you didn’t need to worry anymore. He’s not gone.” The boy patted Qui-Gon’s chest, looking up at him with sage eyes. “But he told me to take care of you. I promised him I would.”

“Oh, Obi-Wan...” Qui-Gon gave his Padawan a hug, and it was several long moments before either one made a move to release the other. “Thank you,” Qui-Gon whispered.

“For what?” Obi-Wan settled against Qui-Gon’s chest again, snuggling close.

A smile crept over Qui-Gon’s lips, and he shook his head. He marveled at the tiny form beside him, and he realized again what the Force had been telling him all along. “Oh, I don’t know. For everything.”

Satisfied, Obi-Wan nodded, closing his eyes again. “Okay. You’re welcome.”

“You’re sleepy, aren’t you?” It was a statement, not a question.

“A little bit.” Obi-Wan opened one eye, his head cocked. “But maybe you could sing to me?”

Cuddling the child close, Qui-Gon smoothed a hand over Obi-Wan’s head. “I can do that.”

***

The sun set slowly over the skyline of Coruscant, backlighting the tremendous cityscape in shades of violet and indigo. Bel-San stood in the East Tower, leaning against the glassy window surface. Inside, what had been anger an hour earlier now existed in a different form as an unsettling sort of confusion. He had been hoping some time alone would help him come to a resolution, but instead, he just felt lonely.

A movement stirred behind him, and he knew who had found him before he turned around. “Master Yoda. I figured you’d be here sooner or later.” Bel-San faced away from the window, watching the small Jedi hobble in slowly.

“Alone you should not be. Miss your friends, you do. Worried for them, you were.” Master Yoda nodded, looking up into Bel-San’s face. “Worried for you, I am.”

Bel-San narrowed his gaze, surprised. “Why? I wasn’t the one facing Feeder flies and killer tribe members. You should save your sympathy for someone who deserves it.” Bel-San suddenly realized what he’d just said, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. “Forgive me, Master Yoda. I’m just not very good company right now.”

A smooth hand gesture from the older Jedi passed between them. “Apologize you need not.” Yoda blinked, holding Bel-San’s gaze steadily. “Thank you, I must, for your kindness to my Padawan. Been the finest of friends you have. Survived without you, I fear, my Padawan would not have.”

Bel-San snorted. “Qui-Gon has Obi-Wan. He has Payter and Mace. He has you. He lied to me about you. He obviously doesn’t need me, and that’s fine. I was only trying to do what he did for me when...well, whatever. It’s fine.”

“Hurt you, he did. Yet the same lies hurt him as well. Reprimanded for their actions the Council will be, but make peace we must between all of us. Mean to deceive you Mace and Qui-Gon did not. Understand you what I say?”

Bel-San kicked at the ground with his toe. “Of course you’re right. But seriously, Master Yoda, they don’t need me around. I’m nothing like any of them. They all have Padawans, and they have their missions, and...”

A slight smile came over Master Yoda’s face. “A fine Teacher you are, and disregard that you should not. But an even finer Jedi are you. Compassion you have, and a rare gift that is. What others fear to give, give you do. See your worth, I do. As Sy-Mon did.”

Bel-San took a deep breath, saying nothing. He swallowed, unable to break his eye contact with Master Yoda. “There are times I really miss him.”

Master Yoda nodded, closing his eyes for a moment. “Understand, I do. A great Jedi was he. But when I miss him, think of you I do, and with Sy-Mon I am again. His goodness in you I see.”

Finally dropping his gaze to the floor, Bel-San cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he whispered softly, folding his hands together.

“Seek your peace as you must, but find your friends again you should. Missed you, they have. Much to talk about, there is.”

“I will. I appreciate your time, Master Yoda.”

Master Yoda gave a short bow, and then turned away, chuckling. “Time for you I have. And do me a favor, you will, yes? Keep Qui-Gon in the Temple you will. Need my Padawan in the Infirmary I do not. Been there enough I have.”

Bel-San nodded, already laughing in spite of himself. “I can only try, Master Yoda.”

Master Yoda narrowed his gaze, eyeing Bel-San critically despite the smile on his face. “Amusing. So amusing you think you are. When eight hundred years old you reach, the same jokes you will not find quite so funny.”

“Sorry, Master Yoda. I couldn’t resist.”

“Hmmmf. Take on someone your own size you should.” Yoda raised his eyebrows.

Bel-San grinned, leaning back on the window, feeling the warmth of the setting sun on his shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”