.                      Bonds of Choice #14
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 4 of 4)
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"Where are we going, Kourt?  I thought you wanted me to see Torlamin,"
Qui-Gon ducked under another vent-pipe and dodged a puddle.  The
sub-basements of the Jedi Temple were not normally part of the daily tour.

"I had to move her.  Watch out for this patch here, it's a shade slippery,"
Kourt called over his shoulder.

"Would you slow down a little?  There are situations were height is not an
advantage and you've got the only chiplight," Qui-Gon groused.

"Sorry, Quigs."  Kourt stopped and waited for the younger Master to catch
up.

"Why did you have to move her way the hell down here?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I needed to put the generators, the hydroponics garden and the whiterooms
between her and Cord Random," he explained.  "Now, do we go right, or left.
Hmmm.  I thought I had this memorized."  He tugged his hair for a long
moment then took the left-hand path.

"And you needed to do this because ... " Qui-Gon led him.

Kourt sighed.  "I have a few puzzles that need working out before we go any
further with her ... arrangements."

"Am I supposed to know why I'm being dragged through the muck of the ages
again, or are you going to stop being cryptic and lay it on the line?  Are
we here to run a test, hold an execution or should I put my game face on
and prepare to debate YOU down as well?" Qui-Gon slipped his hand into
Kourt's.  "What's going on?"

"Okay, give me the first guideline of Reformation, Qui-Gon Jinn."

Qui-Gon responded to that tone as he had the first time he had heard it. 
He folded his hands into the small of his back, lowered his chin and
murmured "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so."

"Correct.  Now then, what is the proper way to conduct an investigation
into events past?"

"Begin at the beginning.  When you get to the end, stop."

"And when did this little project begin?"

Qui-Gon didn't answer right away.  It wasn't a set question with a rote
response, so it required some consideration.  Kourt was known to be hell on
a student who gave an incorrect answer for lack of forethought.  "The
mission to Naboo that I didn't go on."

"You're improving, Qui-Gon.  I'm glad to see raising three Padawans managed
to teach you something.  Good.  Yes.  The Sith first showed up there,
bringing the Jedi in contact with them for the first time in ages upon
ages.  I have to tell you, I had more than a little to do with you NOT
being there, my friend.  Come along."

Qui-Gon followed in Kourt's wake, more than a little amused at his
reflexive responses.  Kourt Crowe had been a shepherd to the newly-Knighted
Qui-Gon Jinn, many years ago.  He'd done a lot to deflate the mammoth Jinn
pride, much more to prevent Qui-Gon from becoming a puffed up jerk and
instead helping him to be a useful member of the Order.  That they remained
friends was something of a curiosity to Qui-Gon.  Kourt wasn't one to
maintain long-standing friendships, even under the best of circumstances. 
Still, when the Force sends you a blessing, you never ask why.  

Well, almost never.

"Why?" Qui-Gon asked, in reference to Kourt's last bit of information.

Kourt turned to face his companion, a long-suffering expression in his
eyes.  After a moment he sighed and replied "Foretelling.  Some good
guesses.  I split the Universe."

Qui-Gon shook his head, confused.  "What?"

"Quantum Mechanics, my friend.  Select one course out of many and the
universe branches?  Well, I was presented with a choice, of sorts.  On the
one hand, the Council's choice went to Naboo and darkness moved upon the
face of the Galaxy.  On the other, I could select a replacement and send
them to their certain death  ...  and a hope of light would be preserved." 
Kourt twisted his fingers into his hair and pulled hard.  "I knew whoever
the Powers sent out there wasn't coming back, so I pulled a few strings
when I heard the Council sent you.  Not just to save you, friend, but  ... 
for all of us.  I mean, Erac was a good friend, a strong and faithful Jedi,
but ... "  Kourt stopped in front of a heavy iron door and began fiddling
with the lock.

"But expendable?" Qui-Gon asked.

"No."  Kourt didn't turn around, didn't open the door, didn't move for a
long moment.  "There were things going on with that assignment,
opportunities that had to be disrupted  ...  things that needed doing,
which you were not available to do.  Now, as to why I chose who I chose,
the answer is simple: Erac was too tempting."

A long, gusty sigh escaped Qui-Gon.  "That has to be the most unfair thing
you've ever done to me, Kourt."

"I couldn't HELP it, Qui-Gon!  I tried, honestly.  But someone was looking
for you, trying to kill you AND Obi-Wan.  I still don't know the reasons
for sure, but I know their success would have triggered a chain of events
that would have been both terrifying and unstoppable.  I knew that whoever
it was was a Sith, they knew you well enough to describe you, to have known
your name, and I had to protect you.  Had to.  Erac will be missed and
shall be far from easily replaced.  You and Obi-Wan ...  can not be
replaced under any circumstances."  Kourt leaned his forehead against the
doorjamb.  "I figured if Erac looked enough like you to let me fool myself
for a while, he'd be close enough to fool a stranger."

"You didn't.  Please, Kourt, tell me you didn't ... " Qui-Gon took a step
away from his friend.

"I tried, Quigs.  I tried so *hard* ... "

"Get away from me," Qui-Gon growled.  "Go in.  I'll be there in a minute."

"Oh fuck you, Qui-Gon!  Someone knew your *face*.  It was just a matter of
time before they knew your name, Obi-Wan's name, matched all that up with
your reputation!  They know that now, but it's got them confused because
they think their target is *dead*.  I was protecting you, him, the Group,
EVERYONE.  When you consider the candidates for Darksiders who would be
gunning for you, the list is fairly short.  Something's going on, something
that has the Sith hunting Shadows again.  You want to hear blasphemy?  If I
could have gotten Obi-Wan to Naboo with Erac I would have done it.  At
least then I would have had a known element in the mix.  Random is giving
me nine headaches from all different directions and there's almost nothing
I can do about it," Kourt snarled.

"Obi-Wan!  You'd have sent him into that, knowing what you apparently
knew???"  Qui-Gon thought he was going to be sick.

"He's rock-solid, Qui-Gon!  He'll never turn, never fail or falter when it
comes to the Dark!  He's not like you and me.  At the center of him, he's
pure, balanced, focused, calm, cool, collected, centered and serene!  He'd
have gone in there, killed Maul, maybe brought Erac home alive and whole,
never had the kind of problems Cord Random's having!  He wouldn't have
flaked out like Torlamin's doing!  To be honest, I *needed* him there,
could have sent him, you know.  But I didn't.  I couldn't do that to you. 
So don't stand there all green at the gills, trying to tell me what I did
was wrong, or that I betrayed you in some way, because I didn't, even if
you don't want to hear it.  Now if you're not ready to work, go back up
topside and tell the Council you need some time off.  They call me the
shadow Jedi and that's exactly what I am.  Or had you forgotten?"

Qui-Gon clamped down on his rising anger, took a deep breath and steadied
his nerves.  "No, Master Crowe.  I hadn't forgotten."

"And you haven't forgiven.  Don't bother.  I don't need anyone's
forgiveness but my own."  Kourt pushed the door open and bowed, a sarcastic
smile playing across his lips.  "To the Oubliette, my friend."

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, refusing to rise to the bait.  
 
The Oubliette was yet another bit of the Temple that Kourt had made his own
in some way or another.  For all Qui-Gon knew, these little nooks and
crannies had belonged to the Group since its inception.  The Order
certainly had no use for such a place, for all that it dealt with beings
who sorely needed time inside of one.  The Jedi did not torture.  The Jedi
did not harm.  If a Jedi used violence, he had already lost.  All life is
sacred to the Jedi, no matter how dark or twisted it might be.  A Jedi
would seek to heal where there was sickness.  An Oubliette had no place in
such a society, because an Oubliette was a place to put someone so that you
could forget about them.

Torlamin struggled against her binders as Kourt entered the room.  "Good
day," he greeted.

"Hello, Master Crowe.  I trust you are well," she snarled, teeth bared.

"You're about to go to sleep, Rue.  Master Jinn's going to try to help
you," Kourt reached out to put her to sleep.

"Keep your filthy hands off me and your sick mind out of me, you
scum-sucking bastard," Torlamin glared at Qui-Gon as if she wanted to pull
him apart with her bare hands.  

"Tsk.  Now, Rue, I thought we'd come to an agreement about that sort of
talk.  I see we'll have to begin again.  Now go to *sleep*."  Kourt touched
her forehead and she slumped back down on the floor, unconscious.

Qui-Gon pressed his lips together, holding in several dozen questions that
sprang to mind.  Instead of asking, he knelt on the floor and took
Torlamin's head in his hands.  "She needs a bath, Kourt."

"You're welcome to try.  Skies know I'm done with civility," Kourt
shrugged.

Qui-Gon snorted and focused his thoughts on the subject before him.  A
swift but thorough examination painted a rather disturbing picture.  The
blocks and repairs the Group had made to Torlamin's mind were deteriorating
rapidly.  The only changes that had gone untouched were where memories had
been totally removed.  She was systematically beating down the walls within
her, destroying the very things that might have saved her.  "She's been a
busy girl."

"It shouldn't be happening so fast, though.  That's what has me so
worried.  She might be getting help from somewhere, and I'm afraid I might
know where," Kourt sighed.

"Well?"

"Cord had a lot of time alone with her, and that's a solid fact.  The truth
is, he kept coming to visit her, even when I told him to stay away.  Now
here's the thing ... she broke down just after seeing the Sith.  We know he
didn't attack you and Obi-Wan mentally until he absolutely had to, though
he was fighting you physically.  And he could have attacked you.  Obi-Wan's
reports make that clear.  So who did he attack?"  Kourt threw Qui-Gon a
towel and a bottle of water.

Qui-Gon accepted with a nod and began cleaning Torlamin's face.  "Okay, I
see your point."

"Well, consider this: Cord's report of the fight on Naboo has no mention of
a mental battle.  He gave us a step-by-step walkthrough of the saberfight,
clearly written, detailed enough for Obi-Wan to have learned and used his
tactics ... but what of the other?"  Kourt shrugged.  "A good question,
no?"

"Yes.  Very good.  I think you're right about keeping her alive for a
while.  At least until we know more ... " Qui-Gon considered trying to wash
her hair but abandoned the idea as impractical.  "And I'll have to look in
on Cord.  And his Padawan."

"Mmm.  Do.  And when you've done with that, how about looking over the
reports from Naboo one more time?" Kourt grinned.

"No need. Got 'em memorized by now.  Okay, we withhold the Left Hand for
... let's give it a couple of days anyway.  I'll see to Cord, you try to
put her mind back together again and see if it falls apart in the same way
this time."  Qui-Gon closed the water bottle and handed it back to Kourt.

"You're thinking something, Quigs.  Spill."

"Yeah.  How about a virus?  Not like you'd get a cold from, but a ...
mental virus?"  Qui-Gon searched for a more proper term.

"Like a data virus?"

"Yeah.  I'm thinking of the Redman virus that went around a few years ago. 
Two files, almost identical, but with different names.  You delete one, the
other regenerates it.  You'd have to delete them both, simultaneously, to
clear it out.  And if there was more than one ... "

"It would spawn again, except this time you might not know about it," Kourt
wrapped a lock of hair around his forefinger and started tugging.  "You
have an interesting idea, there."

"It's just an idea," Qui-Gon reminded him.

"One that bears looking into.  It might mean removing Cord as well, if
you're right," Kourt tugged harder.

"No.  If I'm right, it would mean removing Cord, Torlamin AND Anakin
Skywalker."

***********************

Qui-Gon knew he was knocking on the wrong doors, both literally and
figuratively, the moment he laid eyes on Cord Random.  The Knight let his
surprise show, let a flicker of annoyance cross his face before serenity
asserted itself once more.  "Good evening, Master Jinn.  How are you?"

"I am well.  Master Crowe asked me to come see about ... one or two matters
with you," Qui-Gon stepped forward, forcing the younger man to either give
way or make a stand.  Cord stood aside, allowing Qui-Gon to enter his
quarters.  "Where is your Padawan?"

"He's in his room, I believe.  I was expecting company tonight, so ... "
Cord offered a meaningful look.

"Well, I don't expect this to take long.  Just one or two questions, a
mind-scan and I'll be out of your way," Qui-Gon gestured fluidly as he
crossed to a chair.

"Mind-scan.  Of course, no problem at all," Cord replied, completely
oblivious to the incongruity of his capitulation.  He came to kneel before
Qui-Gon's chair, eyes utterly passive.

Qui-Gon's self-preservation and suspicion leapt to the ready as he prepared
to rifle through the Knight's mind, if not his heart and soul.  Memories
and thoughts could tell you a lot, but in all honesty, it couldn't tell you
intent unless the subject in question had made very conscious decisions. 
He very much doubted Cord had.  If they were all very lucky, he'd find a
little nugget of knowledge, possible a long-term compulsion that could be
pulled out by the roots and put an end to this particular problem.  If he
was lucky, the answers were all right there in front of him.  He had long
given up on hoping for luck.

He rested his hands upon Cord's hair, drew a deep breath and dove in.  

Fifteen minutes later, he left Cord asleep on his sofa, muddled
recollections of a never-had conversation laid over their meeting.  *Why do
I let Kourt use me like this?* he thought, shivering with the ichor of
regret and dirty dealings he'd thought long behind him.  *I just don't have
the stomach for this shit.*

But the truth was, he did.  The regret was for compunctions he didn't have,
the lack of places he wouldn't go, given proper motivation.  And Kourt knew
him well enough to hand him the motivations he needed on a sliver platter. 
With salt.

*I see a threat to my loved ones and my morals disappear like so much fog
on a sunny morning.* 

But he had his answers, didn't like them, knew what he'd done was the right
thing.  Cord was clean, not a thought or compulsion in him that he hadn't
come by honestly.  *So we have to wait and see,* he mused, before pushing
the thought aside.  It would take a couple of days for Kourt, working
alone, to repair Torlamin again and see if she held or crumbled.  He
honestly hoped she'd hold together, because as heartless as he might be,
killing children wasn't something he could look forward to.  *And that's
what she'll be, once the we're done with her.*  If not ... more options
would have to be sought.  He sighed, scrubbing his hands over his eyes. 
He'd had enough of the Group's work for now.  He knew he'd done the right
thing, even if the method was shady.  He hadn't known that when he'd
ransacked Cord's mind.  Yet he'd gone right ahead and done it.  

*Like Adi says: Shadow Jedi doing shady work.*  He shuddered to think what
the Council would say about his casual disregard of a fellow Jedi's
privacy.  Not to mention his equally casual bypassing of rules and even
common courtesy.  *Mind tricks, thought-scans, memory theft ...  and not so
much as a by-your-leave out of me.  How did I get to be like this?*

The door to his quarters opened silently.  Obi-Wan was already in bed,
which was a good thing, considering the lateness of the hour.  *I should
let him sleep ... *

But his feet took him to his Padawan's room, across the threshold of a door
left so trustingly open to him.  "Obi-Wan?"

Sleepy murmur.

"Obi-Wan?  Are you awake?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sat up, sheets pooling in his lap.  "Is something
wrong?"

How do you answer that?

Qui-Gon decided for near-honesty.  "I'm lonely, my Padawan.  I just needed
to know you were here."

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes, got up and walked into the common room.  After a
pause, he returned, took Qui-Gon by the hand and led him into his bedroom. 
Bemused, Qui-Gon followed the gentle tugging.  He could scent no arousal on
his student's body, saw no evidence of desire.  Besides, after Cord, he
really wasn't in the mood.

Apparently Obi-Wan wasn't, either.  After divesting Qui-Gon of his clothes,
he urged him into a pair of sleeping pants and under the cool blankets of
the larger bed.  "Better?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan.  Thank you."

"Well?  Move over, or I'll never fit," Obi-Wan nudged him with his toes
before sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you said we shouldn't make a habit of this," Qui-Gon murmured,
giving Obi-Wan an out if he needed one.

"Go to sleep, Master."

Obi-Wan curled up, letting Qui-Gon arrange himself around the warm, lithe
body as he pleased.  Yes, worth it.  Worth it worth it worth it.  Not
because Qui-Gon loved Obi-Wan, which he most certainly did.  But because
there were dozens of Obi-Wans in the Order, more than anyone gave the Jedi
credit for.  Pure hearts, pure souls that deserved protection, love, a
world free of threats from the Dark.  Individuals so clean and clear that
they could barely comprehend the actions of 'less pure' Jedi, among whom
Qui-Gon numbered himself.  It was just that clarity that had brought Cord
to the unfortunate situation he was in.  He hadn't understood the true
danger of battling a Sith and that lack of understanding had nearly ended
him.  Tonight his very purity had put him under the suspicions of shadows
like Kourt.  Like Qui-Gon.

What Qui-Gon had done would probably save Cord a world of heartache.  With
diligence, Anakin Skywalker be well, would have a strong, sure master to
raise him.  By the grace of the Force, no one would have to pay any price
for this incident beyond Qui-Gon himself.  Only one man would bear the
shame of these suspicions, and it was a price Qui-Gon was willing to pay.

He wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, smelling the clean scent of his young
lover.  *I will make myself worthy of this moment.  I will make myself good
and strong.  I will be vigilant against the Dark and its Minions.  I will
make myself a person deserving of his love.  Then I will leave it to him,
let him decide whether or not he chooses to give that love.  I will.*

Obi-Wan turned, resting his cheek against Qui-Gon's chest, kissing just
above his nipple.  "Go to sleep, Master."

And with a smile, Qui-Gon stilled his mind to obey.

**************************  

Sleep hadn't lasted long.  Qui-Gon had almost wished he had a bad habit to
indulge in while Obi-Wan slept in his bed.  Being that close to warm skin
had been distracting, even in slumber.  Qui-Gon was sitting in the low
window seat, watching the rise and fall of Obi-Wan's breath.  The sky was
still dark, stars glittering in the far distance but his reason for being
awake had nothing to do with his long habit of being an early riser.  No,
the fact was, Qui-Gon Jinn was pretty much wrung out, in much need of rest,
long deep sleep to rejuvenate his resources in a way touching the Force
could never provide.  And he wasn't going to get it.  He'd been awake for
almost an hour, thinking about Torlamin, about Cord, trying to find some
kind of resolution to her ... madness, turning, six of one, half a dozen
the other ... 

Qui-Gon was wiped, useless and about to start a long day of work with his
Padawan, a ritual he fair ached for against the backdrop of this mess Kourt
had dragged him into. 

*He gives over to dreams with much abandon, my Padawan.* Qui-Gon watched
his student with care.  *Poor Obi-Wan.  With me as his Master, he's never
even really embraced the Code.  The only 'law' I held him to was the
Padawan Litany, which, you've got to admit, Old Man, isn't the most
far-reaching text in the Galaxy.*  Qui-Gon quirked a smile.  He'd always
felt it strange that so few Masters paid attention to their Litany, what it
meant, what it implied.  And the fact that there were but few Padawans who
could not quote it from memory said something for the kind of thought that
was becoming prevalent in the younger set.  He'd even heard Obi-Wan follow
his own recitation with a review of the Master's Litany on occasion, as if
to remind himself of what would be expected of him.

The oddest thing was he never seemed to expect Qui-Gon to live up to it. 
Perhaps he thought Qui-Gon saw it in much the same light as he saw the
Code.  Well, there was still time to prove a student wrong on one or two
points.  A huge yawn took Qui-Gon completely by surprise.  *Best to do this
and be done with it.*

He lifted his comm link and chimed for Kourt.  A moment passed, long enough
for two or three chimes, then "Crowe."

"Kourt, it's Qui-Gon."

"Hey Quigs!  Didn't know you'd turned nocturnal, too," Kourt's voice was
smiling and alert.

"Didn't.  Couldn't sleep.  I need to ask a favor."

"Anything within my power.   You know that."  Kourt was all seriousness in
an instant.

"I want Obi-Wan off Coruscant as soon as possible.  I don't want him here
until this whole thing with Torlamin is resolved."  Qui-Gon looked at the
sleeping body in his bed and clamped down hard on the longing that sprang
up in his heart ...  and other places.  "I don't want him involved in
this."

A long pause from Kourt's end, then he asked "Why?"

Qui-Gon turned the answer over in his head for a long moment before
replying.  "Can I call it a family tradition and get off the hook?"

"No," Kourt replied.  "I know for a fact your master didn't ship you off
when this sort of thing came up."

"It's just a ...  it's silly, but I can't shake the thought that Obi-Wan
shouldn't BE here, not now.  There's something he has to do or learn, or
maybe somewhere he has to be.  It's not just because of this ...  Torlamin
thing, but it's not solid enough to call it foretelling ...  " Qui-Gon
sighed.

"You have a feeling about this one?"  Kourt pressed.

"Yeah, and it pretty much says get him far away from us and soon."

There was silence from Kourt's end, then he came back saying "there's a
survey mission going out to the Perrys sector in a couple of days.  I could
get him assigned to it, as a shepherded Padawan, but ... "

"But what?  Dangerous, deadly, bad scene with the locals?" Qui-Gon pressed.

"No, no more than usual.  If it were only that I wouldn't worry about
someone you trained.  It's the safest thing the Temple has going right now,
I'll promise you that.  It's the survey leader.  I think he is one you have
no liking for, where Obi-Wan is concerned," Kourt hedged.

"Who?"

"Knight Obream Trydal."

Qui-Gon forced himself to continue breathing.  "I  ...  can't make that
choice for him.  Especially if this is to be a shepherd mission.  He'll
have to face this sooner or later.  I'll talk to him about it."

"You'd have to lift the stricture you have in place.  That will take some
time, anyway.  I can hurry it along, but bureaucracy is not a speedy
thing."

"It will give me time to speak with Obi-Wan.  I'll let you know for sure in
a day or so.  Jinn out."

Qui-Gon put his comm link away and stretched, trying to decide what to do
until Obi-Wan woke.  When he'd finished, he realized Obi-Wan's eyes were
open.

"Come here," Obi-Wan held his hand out.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Can't.  Work to do."  Another yawn, a rub at his
eyes and Qui-Gon started to order his student up for the day.

Obi-Wan pushed the sheets back, revealing undeniable proof that sleep had
its predictable effects on his youthful body.  Qui-Gon moaned quietly. 

"Come here, please, my Master," Obi-Wan purred.

Qui-Gon obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling his shirt off
before he stretched out next to his sweet, warm, absolutely stunning
lover.  Obi-Wan leaned over and claimed his mouth in a kiss, strong, hot
and needy.  Qui-Gon answered just as powerfully, focusing all of his
attention on the taste of his Padawan.

Which is why it was such a surprise when Obi-Wan's mental Suggestion to
sleep pushed him over into dreams.  He struggled against that sure command
for a brief instant, then relented with a dim sense of amusement.  //Thank
you, Koatel.//

Obi-Wan chuckled as he pulled the sheets over his deeply sleeping master. 
"Maybe I should have gotten you more undressed for bed, my Master, but if I
had, you'd've never gotten the rest you so need."