.                      Bonds of Choice #12
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 4 of 5)
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The next morning brought a wake-up call of sorts from Kourt.  Qui-Gon heard
the chirping of his comm link from his shelves and levitated the object to
himself. //That's SO handy!//  "Jinn."

"Mornin', Quigs.  I didn't wake you guys up, did I?" Kourt was so chipper
Qui-Gon was certain the other Master hadn't been to bed yet.

"Um, I don't think I heard Obi-Wan get up yet.  Why?"  Qui-Gon stretched
his awareness towards his apprentice.  Obi-Wan was still fast asleep.

"Oh."  Kourt paused as if rethinking something.  "Anyway, I thought we
might as well give the kids 'the talk'."

Qui-Gon laughed, "I assure you, my Padawan got 'the talk' some few years
ago."

"Quigs, that's not what I mean and you know it.  As if I'd volunteer for
that anyway.  I mean they need to know about the Group.  You'd think after
this long I'd get used to it, but NOOOO.  I always get stuck with the job
and it never gets any easier."

"Well, you do tell the story best.  I'll get Obi-Wan up to cook and you can
come join us for breakfast. Say, half an hour?"

"You're only going to give him thirty minutes to be up and serve breakfast
for four?"

"Kourt, I know you don't know him that well, but I bet my Obi-Wan could
plan and serve a formal state dinner in little more than two hours.  And I
know for a solid fact that he only needs forty-five minutes to learn, lay
out and properly offer the Deregalian Teth Ceremony, so hotcakes and fruit
juice aren't going to be much of a challenge.  Besides, he refuses to eat
my cooking.  And I can't recommend that he try to eat yours."  Qui-Gon
snapped his comm link off and resolved not to answer if Kourt chimed back. 
He'd gotten the last word in fair and square.

Obi-Wan grumbled a bit about the extra guests and short notice but rose to
the occasion with all excellence.  Qui-Gon was given dominion over setting
the table and arranging of flowers but was firmly discouraged from putting
a hand in the actual cooking.  The whole apartment was soon filled with the
most delicious smells which quite distracted Qui-Gon from any thoughts of
meditation.  Instead he found a convenient spot and helped by tasting
everything Obi-Wan produced.

"Cheese sauce is excellent, of course," he pronounced.  "Especially with
the potatoes.  I'm not sure about that maize mush stuff, though.  It's a
little bland."

Obi-Wan turned from his griddle full of hotcakes. "If I fix you some the
way you're supposed to eat it, will you get out of my way?" 

"Yes. I promise," Qui-Gon said, fetching a bowl.

Obi-Wan dished up a generous scoop of mush, added cheese sauce, sausage
chunks, grilled onions, slices of a red, tangy vegetable and handed it over
to Qui-Gon.  "Get a biscuit to go with it and go AWAY," he ordered.

Qui-Gon was just finishing up his appetizer when the doorchime rang. 
Corubia bowed politely, staying just behind Kourt.  Qui-Gon saw the glitter
of a plain gold ring on her little finger and glanced down at his own. 
He'd put it on this morning, for the first time in years.  Corubia didn't
seem to be paying any more mind to her own than Obi-Wan paid to his.  She
was bouncing on her toes, though, trying to see what Obi-Wan was up to.

Kourt smiled at her amusedly. "I take it this is one of the best-kept
secrets of the Temple?  A Padawan Kenobi Breakfast?"

"Go have a look for yourself," Qui-Gon advised. "Table's through the
kitchen, try not to get bruised."

If that last comment confused him, Kourt soon found out what the warning
was for.  Obi-Wan stood over the food with a wooden spoon, prepared to
crack the knuckles of any passers-by.  "Corubia, please tell me you taught
him how to cook like this."

"Sorry, Master.  I'm passable fair, but he's tempted whole planetary
governments into capitulation with his desserts alone.  Now CANDY, that I
can dish circles around him."

"But I'm such a fast learner, Cor.  Wait 'till you taste my new recipe for
sweet muffins," Obi-Wan grinned.

The little dining table was hardly large enough to hold everything. Obi-Wan
served hotcakes and potatoes off the griddle while the others prepared
bowls of mush and started in on what would fit there.  There were biscuits,
sweet muffins and soft rolls served with jellies and preserves.  Two pots
of tea and three juices finished the service.  Obi-Wan was just about to
take his seat when Qui-Gon asked "Padawan, where's the syrup for the
hotcakes?"

"Oh yes, I thought I was forgetting something." Obi-Wan went into Qui-Gon's
bedroom and returned with the two syrups in question.  Kourt and Corubia
exchanged shocked glances but decided they really DIDN'T want to know.

"You did that on purpose, Obi-Wan.  I KNOW I brought those back to the
kitchen," Qui-Gon asserted.

"As you say, Master," Obi-Wan replied, starting in on his food. 

Qui-Gon harrumphed but soon forgave the younger man.  *You just can't hold
a grudge against someone who will cook like this and never expect so much
as a thank you. *

They ate in silence for some long moments before Kourt introduced the
subject for the morning.  "Well, much as I wish we could simply be here
together and enjoy this fine meal, there is something I wish to tell you,
Padawans.  It is a secret.  It is a secret not entirely safe to know, one I
hope you will keep."

Obi-Wan and Corubia nodded their understanding and assent before he
continued

"My name was not always Kourt Crowe.  In fact, my true name is not
something many could understand, much less pronounce. And this is not the
face I have always worn, though it is the one I have lived behind most
often.  The story begins with one like myself.  But first, let me tell you
something about yourselves, your Potential," Kourt poured himself a fresh
cup of tea and settled back into his chair.

"For centuries and generations the Jedi have tried to understand why one
individual is stronger in the Force than another, why one being can learn
and do more than most others.  It is a complicated riddle, the answer to
which has not yet fully been discovered.  There are patterns, profiles that
can now be used to determine, in general terms, what an individual might
hope to achieve in their lifetime."

Qui-Gon interrupted. "Not with total accuracy, mind you.  Mistakes have
been made, misdiagnosis and so on.  But for the most part, the profiles
have held true."

"Correct.  For example, your friends Jenji and Swed were thought to be as
high in potential as the pair of you and were trained accordingly.  And you
two were thought to be on equal footing, which has proven to be not quite
true.  Additionally,  life has a way of affecting how or indeed IF the
potential manifests itself.  And always, there are flaws in those that do
manifest fully." Kourt turned towards Obi-Wan. "You know your flaw and from
what I can see, you are learning to deal with it.  Understand, you may
never fully overcome it, that weakness.  Corubia, you are flawed in a
different way, but the same goes for you."

Corubia spoke, asking "But what is it that we are supposed to be?  I know
we are called 'High Potential' and that you are not, so how does this
relate to you and some secret?"

"Both have to do with my species.  Of the intelligent beings who have, over
the millennia, been Jedi there are those who have greater and lesser
strength in the Force.  For example, the Gungans of Naboo have produced
Jedi, but they were consistently low in strength and longevity as these
things are measured.  Master Yoda's people do not produce many who would
qualify as Trainees, yet those who have posses the combined advantages of
extreme longevity and powerful insight.  These things seem to be genetic
traits.  But Potential supersedes all that.  A Gungan of fully-manifested
High Potential would eventually outstrip even Yoda himself in most, if not
all areas of importance.  And if the two of you continue to develop as you
have, you will soon outstrip the whole of the Council, myself, perhaps
everyone but Qui-Gon here and one or two others."  Kourt smiled across the
table at his ex-partner.

"Jenji and Swed will not, is what you're saying.  They will be strong, but
not as strong as us," Obi-Wan said.

"Correct.  And they will not be able to learn the things that only one of
my species can teach you.  Your Potential affects all things.  Your memory,
your physical ability, your lifespan, health, mental stability,
intelligence, Force control, telepathy, precognition and your ability to
see and interpret the Moment and it's myriad bits of information.  There
are dozens of things you can learn and excel at.  Language, music, art,
diplomacy, math and sciences, as well as the meditations, mental
disciplines and crafts that make the Jedi what we are.  And you can do them
well, far beyond what those of your species should be able to do.  Which is
where my species comes into play." Kourt stood and made his way into the
sitting room.  The others followed after a moment.

"You mean you're not a standard humanoid?" Corubia asked.

"No.  Not by a long shot, though I choose to appear as one more often than
not," Kourt replied.

"A shapeshifter of some sort, then?" Obi-Wan surmised.

"Yes, though not a species you're likely to know much about, outside of
near-legend.  My people are in the Republic of course, but are not much OF
the Republic.  And to be honest, they're only really interested in the
Jedi.  We come from the Saracen system.  I was …born…on the planet of
Crecaria." Kourt turned away from them to let this information settle in.

Corubia spoke up first with an objection.  "But there are no Crecarians in
the Order.  The last time they were admitted for training was over two
hundred years ago!"

"Correct, my Padawan.  A clutch of six siblings were sent here for Jedi
training.  It was felt by their parents and the ruling body of Crecaria
that they were…weaklings.  Unsuited to the social order there.  In short,
they were considered to be brain damaged.  Retarded.  They were also
physically weak, destined to live no more than a few years, two decades at
the very outside was the estimate, but my people have difficulty in
calculating in timespans that short.  And so those parents faced a choice:
let the children die then, within days of being hatched…or send them here,
where, should they survive, they might find some life in which they could
be happy.  I am relieved to report my parents sent us here."  At this point
Kourt turned back to face them all.  

Obi-Wan considered the man before him.  Not as tall as Qui-Gon, more stocky
and of a rich bronze skin tone.  His hair a thick, chestnut brown cascade
of curls falling down his back.  Eyes full of merriment, mouth full and
appealing.  Youthful, in action and appearance.  Obi-Wan would have given
him no more than thirty standard years if he hadn't already known of his
long-standing friendship with Qui-Gon.  Though there were several Jedi
Masters who could claim hundreds of years, they tended to be rather… stuffy
and reserved.  Kourt was anything but, instead being rather playful and
relaxed, as Jedi went.  Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to make this
revelation fit.

"Two hundred," Corubia murmured.

"And to my people I am still but a child.  A mentally deficient child, but
getting better.  The only of those poor, lost hatchlings that survived.  So
as such things are measured, I am not High Potential, although I was raised
as one and am glad of it.  I'm off the scale, an aberration, not subject to
that sort of measurement.  And yet there are things I can teach those who
are, secrets my people have devised as gifts to you, the Jedi, the High
Potentials, on which those gifts would not be wasted.  Some are simple
mental exercises, like the Imprinting and Healing you may have already
learned.  Others are things you will have to travel to Crecaria to learn. 
Things like memory enhancement and a sort of biological slowing that will
expand your lifetime… incredibly.  Show them, Qui-Gon." Kourt instructed.

Qui-Gon got up and knelt between Corubia and Obi-Wan.  He undid his hair
tie and pulled the graying locks apart, exposing the roots.  "I haven't had
time to dye them since we got back from Renal Sejon," he explained.

The first quarter inch was a rich, dark brown, unbroken by silver of any
sort.  Now that Obi-Wan looked closely, it was even more noticeable in his
master's beard.  

"How old, Master?" he could barely get the question out.

"Sixty-five standards, Obi-Wan.  I never misled you about that.  But I
don't foresee a time when I will age physically much past thirty or so. 
This is all just to keep uncomfortable questions from being asked by those
who knew me in my childhood.  After a time, I'll abandon the artifice and
no one will remember a time when I was not so," Qui-Gon explained.

"And will I be expected to do so as well?" Corubia asked.

"No, my Padawan.  Your people are just far enough off the Standard Humanoid
attributes that it is likely no one will notice about you for some time
yet.  Obi-Wan… well, he's doubly blessed.  His age will almost always be
assessed by those he is surrounded by.  That is, beside other Padawans he
looks older, more mature, adult because he is so calm and poised.  By
Qui-Gon he looks like a very young man.  This skewed perception will
protect him for some time yet.  Not forever, but for a while," Kourt
replied.

"And you? What do you do, change your appearance every now and again,
disappear and come back as someone else?" Obi-Wan was surprised at the
bitterness in his voice.

"No.  If you check the records, I'm still wearing the same body I took on
when I was twenty-five standards.  I simply do nothing to cause comment,
take the time to do work that inspires caution in others and refuse to
answer questions if they are asked.  In truth, I haven't been asked since
Qui-Gon took on his first apprentice.  Those who would remember me, I
simply avoid.  I work with the Council and the younger set.  Anyone who
needs to know, such as those with whom I study the Dark Side, are wise
enough to understand and keep this from becoming common knowledge.  There
are others who would be…exposed if the truth of my origin and age were well
known, so I hope you will do the same," he finished.

"So that's it.  You want to teach us to live forever if we promise not to
tell how old you are.  Sounds like a fair deal to me," Corubia grinned.

"There is much more you need to learn, Padawan.  Both of you.  All of you,
really, but I'll keep my council for Qui-Gon between us.  You have far to
go in your Potential yet, but the more specialized lessons will not begin
until you have passed your Trials.  You should have been told all this
years ago, so that you would have time to accept and consider.  Now time
will be short before learning is upon you.  Then time will never be short
for you again, barring heinous accident.  There are, of course, deeper
reasons to all this secrecy."  Kourt leaned back in his chair, tugging on
his hair for a long moment.

"Kourt, shall I?" Qui-Gon finally asked, settling onto the sofa next to
Obi-Wan.

"Well, yes.  If you would please," Kourt shrugged.  "I never know where to
start."