.                      Bonds of Choice #18
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 2 of 2)
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Qui-Gon lay back on the sofa and let his spine relax into the well-worn
furniture.  The holovid was still playing whatever channel Jenji had been
watching before she left for an afternoon study group.  He watched the
animated figures intently, trying to figure out what under the skies was
going on.  Something about a bunch of teenagers trying to catch a zombie
with the help of a large, frightened dog.

It seemed to Qui-Gon that the dog had the right idea.  Get out, while the
getting was good.  Trouble would find a body without one going out to look
for it.  It certainly wasn't a situation for a bunch of kids to be meddling
in.

His comm link chirped and he dug through his pockets to find it. "Jinn."

"Master? It's Obi-Wan!  Are you busy?"

Qui-Gon smiled.  "No, I was just waiting for Master Crowe to come meet me. 
We have a bit of closure to achieve with Master Torlamin, so I'm just
relaxing."

"You?  Relaxing?  I must mark that in my records.  Listen, I was thinking
about some things while I was away… do you suppose we are going to be
assigned a new mission any time soon?"

"Not likely.  Kourt has any number of things that need doing before he can
make good his escape again.  He's asked that we stay and help with that,
and I'm inclined to believe the Council will give him his way yet again. 
Why?"

"That, dearest Master, would be telling.  I've got to speak to Corubia
about it all first.  Did you say you were going to see Master Crowe soon?" 
Obi-Wan asked.

"Pretty soon, I should think," Qui-Gon was suddenly suspicious.

"Could you let him know his message is on its way?"

"What message?" Qui-Gon demanded.

"Well, he… hold on a sec…"

The comm went quiet for a long moment, then Obi-Wan came back.  "I'm sorry,
Master.  I have to go.  We're almost done with the counts for the report
and I'm trying to wrap them up so we can get out of here."

"Obi-Wan, wait.  What message?"

"Look, ask Master Crowe.  I really have to go now… sleep well, my
Pantreti."

"And you, Koateleu," Qui-Gon clenched his fist hard around the comm link as
the line went dead.  *What the hell have you done, Kourt?*

The door to the outer room opened and Qui-Gon went to get his answers. 
"Kourt, I've just received a message from Obi-Wan to give to you.  He says
your message has been sent.  Now, would you like to tell me what
thrice-damned scheme you've mixed my student up in, or do I start peeling
you from the inside out?"

Kourt stopped, eyes wide with shock.

It was only then that his own tone and words registered on Qui-Gon.  He
clenched his hands and slowly relaxed them, relying on lifelong reflexes to
bring himself back to center.  "Well?" he demanded.

"I asked him to do me a service at San Saloor, that much is true," Kourt
allowed.

"And?"

"His mission was apparently successful."

"You bastard!"  Qui-Gon all but screamed.  "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE???"

"NOTHING!!!  It's not what you think, Master Jinn!  On my life, I swear he
was never sent into any danger of my making…"

"Too many words in that, Kourt.  Too many qualifiers.  Honest truth, or I
drag you up in front of the Council and start reading a list of your
darkest secrets.  Don't think I won't!"  Qui-Gon was across the room and
bracing Kourt against the wall before the last word was off his lips.

"He send a message to the Solos!  That's all, I swear!" Kourt gasped, hands
seeking purchase on Qui-Gon's larger body.  Qui-Gon simply lifted him off
the floor and held him there.

"Go on," he invited.

"His pilot brought him into contact with some spacers who had news out of
Eab Nanoorn and Ero Phelian.  I DID NOT tell him to look for it.  It just
fell into our laps, Quigs!  He contacted me with the information. No, I
don't know why he didn't call you first.  Then I couldn't get in touch with
our people in Eab… so I asked him to send a couple of these spacers looking
for them and that is ALL!  He went to a bar, he paid a price, he came
home.  End of story."  Kourt sighed as his boots met the floor once again.

"Kourt… I… I don't know what to say.  I'm sorry…"  Qui-Gon drew a
shuddering breath.

"From what you know of me, I'd say you had a perfectly logical reaction,"
Kourt managed a weak smile.  "I'm lucky you didn't beat the shit out of me
first and ask questions later.  I overstepped my bounds here… I should have
spoken to you before I sent that order.  I apologize, Master Jinn."  

"Accepted, my friend.  Don't do it again, though.  Make no mistake, Obi-Wan
is *my* student, *my* responsibility and *mine* to order, not yours. 
You'll come through the proper channels in regards to him, or you'll find
out just how good a student I was, all those years ago," Qui-Gon stepped
back, giving Kourt his space.

"It won't happen again.  Honor's oath," Kourt gripped one fist in his other
hand, making the truth-swearing sign.  "Now, do you want to tell me what
has you thinking you're *not* in control, where he's concerned?"

"What?" Qui-Gon whispered, confused.

"You.  Kenobi.  Power issues.  Something not well in the bower of amore?" 
Kourt pressed.

"You've lost your mind," Qui-Gon scoffed.

"Oh really?  Double dog dare you to look at me and say that," Kourt put a
comforting hand on his shoulder.  "You were angry, Qui-Gon.  Angry and
scared about him doing something you didn't give him leave to do.  That's
not normal for you."

Qui-Gon shrugged and pulled away.

"Qui-Gon… you have to do the Ceremony tonight.  I need you balanced before
I can let you get involved with that.  It would endanger you, otherwise. 
Let me help, please.  If for nothing else, to make up for frightening you. 
I've seen you like this… before.  I thought you'd gotten a handle on this
thing.  Didn't we cover it all, years ago?  Drawing lines, setting rules
and boundaries, safe places and safe people and safe words.  We even talked
about likely partners, their probable tendencies, tastes, everything…"

Qui-Gon looked down.  "Not everything."

"Oh, Quigs.  Did you end up with something… bad for you?"

"No, no.  It's just… lurid."

Kourt frowned in thought.  "Ah.  Good, then, is he?  Experienced?  And you
weren't expecting that?"

Qui-Gon shrugged.  "I mean, I knew he wasn't cloistered or anything.  Far
from it.  I was just surprised, is all.  Kourt, he… I think his first time
was with a prostitute."

Kourt shrugged.  "So was mine.  So what?  As I recall from your tales of
woe, your first time was nothing to immortalize in song."

Qui-Gon smiled weakly.  "It wasn't all bad…"

"But not all good.  I can tell you this much: he's never had to worry that
he'd disappoint his partners.  I'd lay credit, good credit, he approached
the whole thing like he'd be tested on it later.  Wait.  That isn't the
problem, is it?"  Kourt took Qui-Gon's hand and squeezed it gently.  "What
did he do to you?"

Qui-Gon shook his head.  "Not now, Kourt."

"You'd better, and be done with it.  You've got," he checked the crono
"twenty minutes before you need your center.  Go."

Qui-Gon smiled.  This had been one of the most useful things Master Sarafel
had ever taught him, the ability to purge himself of emotional baggage on
command.  It was the source of the legendary Jinn serenity, the key to his
rigid self-control.  Kourt knew of it, though he chose not to use it
himself.  It was a very simple technique, really, though entirely ruthless
on the dignity of the user.  Total honesty, acceptance, release.  Very
basic.  "He fucked me like I was a whore."

Kourt's eyes went wide with shock.  "No.  No way."

"I wasn't asking your opinion, Kourt.  I'm telling you the facts.  I saw it
in his mind.  He was fucking me, but it had absolutely nothing to do with
how he felt for me or who I was.  You tell me that isn't how you fuck a
whore.  That's how *I* fuck a whore, in case you're interested."

"Okay, okay… but do you think he meant it like that?" Kourt's hands
clenched in a way that Qui-Gon recognized with alarm.  He answered quickly,
to still his friend's urge to throttle and/or maim.

"No.  I don't think he realizes he was thinking on those terms.  I don't…
well, to be honest, I only know for sure of one person he might NOT have
fucked like that, at a total remove.  And that affair… turned out rather
badly."  Qui-Gon drew a calming breath.  "He just doesn't want to get
involved emotionally with sex."

Kourt nodded.  "And how does that make you feel?"

"Um… dirty old man?  Vapid slut?  Take your pick.  Betrayed.  Ugly.  Oh, I
forgot.  He bruised me from shoulder to ass," Qui-Gon shrugged.  "And no, I
didn't ask him to."

"You don't seem particularly upset," Kourt noted.

"I believe the term is 'denial'," Qui-Gon explained.

"I see.  Well, so… are we still up for this?"  Kourt asked, meaning
Torlamin.

Qui-Gon shrugged.  "Why not?  This isn't something I can actually deal with
by myself.  Call it on hold for now."

"That's not good enough, Quigs.  You know that."

Qui-Gon sat on the sofa again, breathing slowly for a long moment.  "I
can't do it again, Kourt.  I can't… I want more, need more.  If he can't
give me that… I think I'd better stop."

Kourt studied his fingers for a long moment, then started tugging his
hair.  "What about being patient, waiting for him to want you?"

Qui-Gon rubbed his brow and eyes, then sighed.  "Well, I thought about
that… and it seems to me that waiting isn't necessarily a passive thing.  I
think I might want to consider a course of active pursuit.  Or quit. 
Either one.  I just don't think I can go on, with things as unbalanced as
they are."

"That is a problem, one you'll find throughout the Order.  You know that. 
So, decide.  Make peace.  Are you going to seriously court your Padawan, or
just give up?"  Kourt put an elbow to Qui-Gon's ribs.  "I'd lay you better
odds at winning him than giving him up, if you want my opinion."

Qui-Gon chuckled.  "You're right, of course.  Either way would be hard. 
Might as well take the path that leads to what I want anyway, right?"

"It's the only logical choice," Kourt assured him.  "Just… do it quickly,
before you forget why you want to.  I told you years ago: remember
yourself.  Remember who you are and the nature of your desires.  Stay true
to that, or you can't expect anyone else to do it."

Qui-Gon nodded.  "Yeah.  Okay.  I think… I think I'm ready now."

"Okay.  I'll bring her up to the West Tower.  You want to wait there for
me?"

"Sure.  Thank you, Master Crowe."

"Thank you, Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon made his way back to his rooms and laid out his formal robes.  With
care and precision, he dressed himself, drawing on the mantle of his
calling and power with each article he donned.  The traditions and lessons
that had brought him to this place came to him easily, helping him to calm
serenity.  With a practiced flick and shrug, he drew his dark brown cloak
on over all.  As an afterthought, he pulled the hood up and covered his
hair.  Tucking his hands in his sleeves, he set out to do his duty as a
Jedi Master.

Qui-Gon took his time on the stairs to the West Tower.  With each step, he
separated himself from another aspect of his own, personal life and drew
himself closer to the concerns and needs of the Light.  He was nothing, no
one, a tool, a servant, a conduit for the Will of the Force.  He went to
the pyre and laid out the coals and supplies.  He kept himself firmly
detached from the proceedings, let his training and instincts take over. 
Finally, he knelt facing the west and opened himself to the Living Force as
he rarely had call to do, these days.

The Force flowed through him, making him aware of his place in time,
causing him to feel the connection and motion of events and future
possibilities.  He was a thread in the tapestry, a drop in the river, a
mere strand in the web of existence.  This time, these actions must occur
just *so* and it fell to him, this responsibility to assure that it
happened in the proper way, in the proper time.  All future events rested
upon this, as the upper layers of a stone wall relied on the surety of
their foundation.

*I am the Foundation and the Terminus,* he mentally chanted.  *Unto me did
all things build.  From me shall all things grow.  Around me are my support
and my responsibility.  I am the Foundation and the Terminus…*

He let his eyes close as he floated in the drifting serenity that was
Oneness with the will of the Force.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes as Kourt led Torlamin into the West Tower.  She
looked…calm.  Ready.   Qui-Gon waited for Kourt to exit before he began.
"Good evening, Master Torlamin."

"Good evening, Master Jinn.  Master Crowe said we had some business?" She
sat down on the floor across from him, receptive to his words.  Kourt had
done his part well.

"We do," Qui-Gon smiled.  He gathered the Force up around him and channeled
it, just so, through his voice.  "This is your final bit of business, you
know."

"Yes.  I'm very tired.  I would like to rest soon."  She touched her head,
sensing a… wrongness, but Qui-Gon gently deflected her thoughts from that
path.

"Rest you shall, as soon as this work is done.  Open yourself to me."

She nodded and obediently began dropping her shields.  Qui-Gon looked up at
Kourt, pointed at the door with his chin and waited for him to be gone. 
"Did you have anything you wanted to speak about?"  He deftly wove himself
into her mind, calling up all concerns, desires, wants, pulling them out to
the forefront of her mind.

"Corubia… my Padawan… I don't want to leave her untrained," she began
uncertainly.

"She will not be left untrained.  Her bond and training are in the hands of
another, someone you trust."  Qui-Gon blended the lie with truth, making
her believe as he pushed that idea into her mind.  He felt her let go of
that desire, the one that held the most power for her, in this moment.

"The Jedi… they must be destroyed.  Their Light grows too strong, you
know…" and again she sensed a wrongness in that, but a different kind than
before.

"Gently done, that should be.  You are tired.  There are other hands to do
that work.  You need not trouble yourself," Qui-Gon assured her.

"I wanted to learn about the Dark, you know.  As you have learned.  As
others have learned, here in the Temple.  I studied, researched when I
could, but it never seemed to be enough," she sighed and looked past him.

"Master, the Darkness is nothing to be understood.  Only seen and let go
of.  Let it go,"  Qui-Gon felt this desire fade from her as well, guided
that release most carefully, made sure it was absolutely dissolved.

"Anakin.  I was supposed to do something for young Skywalker.  Do
something… to him, I can't really recall…"

Qui-Gon filed that bit of information away.  "Anakin will be seen to.  I
will accept that for my own work," he promised her.

Her eyes wandered around the room.  "I'm tired, Master Jinn.  It seems like
a long time has been spend in hard labor."

"It has.  You should lie down," Qui-Gon gestured towards the pyre, blocking
the strangeness of his request from her perception.

"Thank you, I will," she got up and lay down upon the coals there.  Qui-Gon
took a long, deep breath.  *Almost done.  Almost there.*  

"Here, I've brought you your lightsaber.  I thought it would be for the
best."  Qui-Gon put the weapon in her hands, positioning the live end just
under her chin.  "It's time to go.  Go on, the Force is waiting for you…"

She closed her eyes in perfect peace, perfect calm and pressed the power
switch.  Qui-Gon closed his eyes in that moment, felt the flux and eddies
around her, around him, around their actions and reactions.  When he opened
his eyes, she was gone.  Nothing left but clothes and saber, laid out
neatly on the pyre.

"Thank you, Rue Torlamin.  Thank you for making this easy on us all," he
whispered.  "I'm grateful, really."  He struck a match and held it to the
coals, to her clothes, watched as the flames spread across them, lighting
the Tower for the Evening Watch.  With a sweep of his hand he pushed back
the heavy curtains and opened the upper windows.  As he moved towards the
door, he triggered the Western Bell, sending the sounds of its chimes down
into the Temple.  It sobbed the mournful signal *One of us is lost, is gone
into the Force.  Be mindful of the Moment, one of us has joined the Force.*

Qui-Gon let the door close behind him and began the long trek down the
tower stairs.   As his feet touched the first steps, he let the tears
fall.  Tears for a Master who could not be saved, for all those who would
never know her sacrifice, for the life and laws that made that sacrifice a
necessity.  *I will Watch the Eastern Wall,* he pledged himself.  *I've had
enough of death for a long while yet.*

He locked the lower door, pulled his hood up and turned himself towards his
evening destination, ready to meditate and let all things go, to become one
with the Moment and himself once more.
 
********************************  

Obi-Wan sat back in his seat as the transport jumped into hyper.  He
sighed, glad he was on his way back to the Temple.  Home.  He'd left his
first mission behind him, a somewhat bittersweet parting.  He was saddened,
partly at the events that had highlighted this outing.   But he was also
saddened that it seemed for the best.  It hadn't really been the 'simple
survey' that he'd expected… but when had anything ever really been simple? 
He didn't have mystical armor to protect him from the trials of a Jedi's
life.  But he had Qui-Gon, the most compassionate, peaceful man Obi-Wan had
ever met, always ready to guide him.  He might never have a mother, but
Corubia had convinced him he might not be missing much.  Though if
insights, or even gentle comfort was needed from someone other than his
master, Obi-Wan felt certain Master Crowe would willingly substitute.

So, no.  No family still, and perhaps never to have one. Yet, Swed would be
at the Temple, presiding over keyboards at every opportunity, pouring his
soul into music that would make angels weep.  Jenji would have some new
sculpture or design to amaze him with.  And if he really thought he needed
a sister, Corubia would fight anyone who said she wasn't his.

Children, daughters and sons, he would probably never have.  Though for all
that, it seemed more than settled that Obi-Wan would be knighted.  If so,
he could take several Padawans and apparently  Qui-Gon felt he would be a
fine teacher to them.  A husband or wife, though...

Well, for anything a partner could provide, he had Qui-Gon.  For now at
least, and probably for as long as he wanted.  A work-partner might not be
the same as a spouse, but they were pretty close.  No wedding, though...

Obi-Wan scrubbed at his hair. *What's got me thinking like that?  The Order
has never prevented Jedi from having life-partners.*  The question
remained, however, as to whom Obi-Wan might join in that bond.  Not just a
partner, but a companion, a lover, someone to teach, someone to learn from
and share with as an equal.  A friend.  *The Force seems to have some very
definite ideas about that, though…*

Well, that would be Qui-Gon, too, wouldn't it?

Obi-Wan froze at the thought, then slowly relaxed.  Well, that would
definitely seem to be an option, at least, a future consideration.  He'd
certainly proven himself on this mission, kept his composure, didn't buckle
to the desires of others, no matter how much he wanted to help them.  He'd
never once felt inferior to the people around him and only strove to do
better when he honestly felt he wasn't doing as well as he could have. 
Even when Obream had cut him down he'd simply let it roll off him, had
remained steady in his knowledge that he'd done nothing wrong.  He'd been
true to himself, his beliefs.  Corubia's words to him sprang into his
memory.

"You think I didn't get pressure from my family?  I did...but I stood
strong for what I believed to be right.  I held on and kept coming back to
the Temple, because I'm Jedi.  It's what I am and what I was meant to be. 
You'll be fine, because you're Jedi too."

And it seemed she had been right.  He was Jedi, to the bone.  And being
Jedi was the finest thing he could be, in this life.  The Order might not
be perfect, but nothing is.  To its credit, the Order held the finest minds
and personalities Obi-Wan knew.  Though all were flawed in some way, every
Jedi was a honorable, worthy being.  

Worthy.

*Well then.  I must be, too.*

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, picturing all the people that would be waiting for
him when he got home.  Home.  There were still issues to be faced, dealt
with, in his little family, but they'd work through them.  And Qui-Gon...it
was time to have a nice, long talk with his Master.  Yes, he'd chosen to
walk away from the myriad lives available to him.  Yes, he'd chosen to
break those options off.  The loss was not that great, all things
considered.  He hadn't lost the family he'd chosen for himself, bonded to
by his own free will.  He'd just look to them and theirs, as they had
always looked after him. After that, he'd start working on the salvation of
the Galaxy.  

For now, he was just going to take care of his own little world.