I speak calmly to the female beside me, the model of Jedi serenity. I hear the others
thinking that none surpasses Master Windu at this. But my jaw tightens, and I carefully
do not look at the pair behind me.

We are not to form attachments, says the Code. Nor is there passion, only serenity.  I
know this. It has been ingrained since infancy. Lately, I wonder if the Code was created
to keep us controlled, not to actually help us in our calling.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan flout the Code at every turn. Qui-Gon is the most passionate man
I know, with a zest for life that is unseemly in a Jedi. He controls himself well, but I have
known him too long to be fooled by mere appearance. And Obi-Wan is, well, Obi-Wan.
Something indefinable about him leaves many of the sentients purring in his wake like a
spoiled Alderaani taabca who is hoping for an extra scratch behind the ears.

And Force forgive me, I want both of them.

Qui-Gon and I have been friends for years, age mates in the creche, and students throughout.
I have trained my padawans, they are knights and masters in their own rights, loyal to the
Order, the Code, and the Force. But Qui-Gon does not teach to the Code. He teaches as
the Force moves him, and it has already cost him one padawan.

It will cost him far more in the end, I fear.

There was a time, not so very long ago, but closer to yesterday than today, when I had hoped
to take Obi-Wan as my own padawan. He was gifted, and Qui-Gon was not willing to risk his
recently-broken heart again. But the Force chose another for me and pushed poor Qui-Gon
until he had no choice but to take the boy.

Somewhere over years, they became lovers. Few others know. Yoda suspects, but has no proof.
From the corner of my eye, I see him watching them, looking for any sign. There will be none, not
even a glance held too long. If nothing else, they are cautious. I could destroy them both with a
word to the Council. But I must believe I am not so jealous as that.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

The Code. The damnable Code that governs my life and makes me live with its lies as my only comfort.

But my suggestion in the council meeting wasn’t made for the Code, it was made for me. I wanted
Qui-Gon for years. I accepted I would never have him because of our status. We fooled around as
children, but never often enough to be caught or punished. He never thought of me as more than a
good friend. I thought I had made peace with the past, moved beyond my desires.

Until Obi-Wan. Thirteen, and so very beautiful even then. I knew Qui-Gon was a better man than
I was then, because beautiful boys grow into even more beautiful men. And temptation can be powerful.
But Qui-Gon was serenity personified, emotionless and fearless then in the wake of losing Xanatos,
living for the Unifying Force and the Order. Obi-Wan took that from him, but deepened his contact
with the Living Force in a way none of us could understand.

I remember the night I learned about them. They took every precaution, but it wasn’t enough.
Precautions seldom are.

In the gardens of the Temple, there is a secluded corner, concealed by a thick curtain of Corellian
lina vines and Illuvian windflowers. I like to meditate there, very late. This night, I wandered that
way, clearing my mind. As I drew near, I changed my mind, quite unexpectedly, thinking the
tinkling fountains on the far side of the garden would be more conducive to the Force. I found the
compulsion almost unbearable, and checked for signs of Force-tampering. There it was. A
subliminal Force-Suggestion, made to grow stronger the closer the intruder drew.

Someone wanted privacy. I hoped it was another master meditating and not a pair of padawans
doing extracurricular work in sexual techniques. I suspected the former, given the expertise of the
Suggestion.

I paused outside the first curtain of lina vines. Reaching out, carefully so as not to disturb the person
within, I checked for a known presence. Qui-Gon. He wouldn’t mind if I joined him. He never had
before. We had spent many evenings meditating among the linas and windflowers.

I parted the first layer of vines and peered through the second. Qui-Gon wasn’t alone. He had so
thoroughly masked his padawan’s aura that I never sensed him.

I watched, eaten with envy of them both, consumed with a jealousy over a man who was never mine
to begin with. I should have been kissing Qui-Gon’s soft, bearded mouth so tenderly, or having
Obi-Wan’s slim body pressed against me.

I hated them both in that instant. Hated them for having each other, and hated myself more for the wanting.

Unable to force myself away, I watched. I watched as Obi-Wan slid down his master’s body, sinuous
and graceful, to wrap his mouth around Qui-Gon’s shaft. I remembered how that felt when we had
touched. I wondered how it tasted.

Still and stunned, I watched, and the lovers never saw me as they broke and rewrote every line of
the Code. And I took stock of all the lies that are my life, and wondered at their revisions.

There was no ignorance in their touch, only too much knowledge.
Passion led to serenity for them both.
They found peace in their emotions.
And even as Qui-Gon threw his head back in the little death, they were bound through the Force.

I slipped away, and they never knew I saw them.

As they don’t know I watch them now from the corner of my eye. I know what they see: the calm
Master Windu, ever serene, with not a flicker on his face to indicate the memories that haunt him. I
don’t even know what platitude comes from my mouth to the female beside me.

I will bear this weight of memory and desire no longer. There will be no passion, only serenity. There
will be no more emotions, only peace.

And although the Force has shown me what is coming, I will send them to Naboo.

Then we will see if there is truly no death and only the Force.