.                      Bonds of Choice #21
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 1 of 2)
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Qui-Gon let the center of himself warm to the powerful life energies around
him.  The sounds and smells of the Aviary fell away as his inner core
flared to life.  He drew a deep breath and released it slowly, focusing on
the lotus keto his master had taught him during his year of exile.

The Spirit lies dormant in the body
Tamed to the hand of the Will
There, the passions of Living gather and ferment
Altering that which feeds it.
Know, Jedi, the folly of the Spirit
And read there the Honesty of desire
There is nothing light or dark but thinking makes it so.

*There is no cold like the cold survived alone,* Qui-Gon thought, a random
truth within his mind.  *How long have I been so alone?*

The brief periods of connection in his life had always been destined to
end.  That friendship and love would be ever-fleeting had been his pure
reality for what seemed like eternity.  Even when he came to understand his
place as the Teacher, even when he knew his life was bound up in the
actualization of finding the knowledge he had so long sought… even then. 
*The student learns and goes on to better things.  Oh, but to hold him for
this little while.  Would that be too much to ask?*

Apparently.

Even his earliest childhood had been colored by an excess of isolation. 
First had been his nomadic apprenticeship, followed swiftly by his training
with Kourt.  The brief period of working with the Group had been truncated
by the training of his first Padawan.  Another handful of years in the
Group's labors had segued into the debacle with Xanatos and its aftermath. 
And in all honesty, being within the Group was almost as lonely as being
outside of it.  The Group was, by necessity, made up of fiercely
independent personalities bound together by an unwavering loyalty to their
shared goals.  Even his closest friend had never truly given himself over
to the more normal trappings of friendship.

It would seem that this legacy of solitude had been passed on, untempered,
to Obi-Wan.  *Well, what did I expect?  At least he has his friends.* 
Qui-Gon shifted his balance slightly and centered on his inner anxieties. 
Losing Obi-Wan was as possible as it was unthinkable.  It was a reality he
would simply have to accept.  His impulse was to release all hopes to the
Force and let well enough alone, but for once his mind and heart were at
odds.  On the one hand, he wanted free of the constant rejection.  On the
other, it was better than absolutely nothing.

*Is it desire and hope you are feeling, Jinn?  Or is it really the hand of
the Force guiding you to this path?*

The trouble was, he simply wasn't sure.  It could be one, the other, both,
or neither, and he was at a loss to discover the truth of it all.  *That
which you hold dear is the most difficult to set free.*  It was a massive
understatement to say he held Obi-Wan dear.  For the first time in his life
he had love to give, and in that most classic of ironies, there remained no
one to give it to.  Qui-Gon sighed and reached for the soothing calm of the
Living Force once more.  If nothing else, the Force would be with him. 
*Oh, but to have more…*

He had long accepted the lesson that one must never ask the Force to send
reward.  A Jedi lived with no thought of his own gain.  But never had he
been so sorely tempted to send a plea of mercy unto that which he had
faithfully served since before he could honestly remember.  Somewhere, deep
inside him, a lonely man whispered, praying for just one small gift.

**********************
When Qui-Gon returned to his quarters, he sensed that some new stressor had
entered his Padawan's life.  The apartment was filled with the savory aroma
of stir-fry and Obi-Wan was furiously releasing some kind of negative
emotion through the wanton thermal abuse of various foods.  Qui-Gon simply
edged past him and began pulling down dishes.  

"Skies-cursed civil service," Obi-Wan grumbled.

"What happened?"

"The Kurasian senator's security refuses to allow a Jedi apprentice to see
their representative unless I have a chaperon, a body guard and a second,
in case of a duel."

Qui-Gon levitated a bite of squash out of the pan and stifled a snicker. 
"What brought that on?"

"Apparently, there are new policies in place over there and I'm running
afoul of them all.  Cor, Jenji and Swed are going with me so you won't have
to clear your schedule.  One actual Jedi and three semi-Jedi ought to be
plenty official enough for any secretary," Obi-Wan speared a bite of meat
and chewed thoughtfully.  After a moment he spat it out into the trash and
kept stirring.  "I don't know HOW you can eat this stuff.  I'd think you
would prefer something less… gamey."

"I really *must* introduce you to my master one day," Qui-Gon smiled.  "And
yes, the four of you should be plenty.  It's more than most governments
ever get from us."

Obi-Wan dished up Qui-Gon's food and set about preparing his own.    "I
kept SAYING that, and they kept saying 'A half-trained Jedi is more
dangerous than a regular one.'  I had no idea the Kurasians thought Jedi
were dangerous."

"Nor did I, Padawan.  The more I hear about them, the less I like what I
hear." Qui-Gon went to the caterer to dial up some juice.  "I don't suppose
you saved the mission reports from our original contact, did you?"

"Mmm, sure.  Should be in the 'recent data gathered' file.  Why?"

"Sneaking suspicions begin to arise, Padawan.  I want you to be very, very
cautious tomorrow.  Keep your eyes open and be prepared to report anything
unusual directly to me.  Do you understand?" Qui-Gon sat glasses and
utensils on the table as he spoke.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan murmured.  Qui-Gon was obviously cluing in on
something from the Living Force, for him to be so adamant.  Obi-Wan had
long ago learned to heed those hints and hunches, so obeying these commands
was no problem at all. "Did you happen to read my report from San Saloor?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't gotten to it yet.  Why?" Qui-Gon asked, taking
his place at the table while Obi-Wan joined him there.

"I... sort of hid something from the Council?" Obi-Wan kept his eyes on his
plate.

"Really?  Do tell," Qui-Gon encouraged.

"It's in the report.  Honest.  If they took the time to read it, it would
be right there for them to find," Obi-Wan assured his teacher.

"Do I sense a conjunction?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow.

Obi-Wan nodded, blushing around the edges.  "I buried it between the linen
count and the report on statuary repairs needed.  Master, please, I was
*scared* to tell them."

"I see..." Qui-Gon picked up his chopsticks and began eating.  "You'd
better give me the details."

"I was in my cabin, just fiddling around with some lists and... I saw a
Force ghost.  He spoke to me... and it wasn't a Jedi," Obi-Wan admitted.

"Not a Jedi?" Qui-Gon asked, voice slightly strained.

Obi-Wan nodded.  "It was Darth Maul."

Qui-Gon took a deep breath and released it.  "Padawan, you were right to
hide this from the Council.  It belongs squarely with the Group and that's
where it is going.  If you think you saw the spirit of a Sith..."

"I don't *think,* Master.  It was Maul."

Qui-Gon fixed his student with a steady look.  "Very well.  I don't think 
you have much to worry about.  Not much we can do about it, whatever it
might mean.  But I want to know if anything at all like this happens
again.  I want to know *as* it's happening, if at all possible."

"Do you think he'll be back?" Obi-Wan laid his chopsticks aside.

Qui-Gon frowned in thought, then replied. "More than likely.  You said he
spoke to you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Did he say what he wanted?" 

"No, Master.  I think he started to, but... we were interrupted."

"Then he still has unfinished business that he thinks you're involved in. 
Keep yourself very, very conscious of the moment until we know what's going
on," Qui-Gon reiterated.

"Yes, Master.  Did you want to look those files over again tonight?  On the
Kurasians?"

"I think we'd better, if you're seeing one of them tomorrow," Qui-Gon
said.  "Then sleep for both of us.  You've had a long day and you'll need
your energy tomorrow."

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

The next morning, Obi-Wan regarded himself in the mirror with a critical
eye.  He had always been aware that his hair grew rather fast.  He needed a
trim at least once a month to keep it in proper parameters.  Now it had
been almost two months, maybe three, since his last haircut and the effects
were disturbing in the extreme, not to mention noticeable.  "How can you
live with so much hair?  Just this much is driving me bonkers.  Plus, I
look... untidy," he told Qui-Gon.

"It actually looks pretty good."  Qui-Gon tilted his head to one side. 
"But to be honest, it's not that noticeable unless you know what to look
for."

Obi-Wan turned his head to one side, then the other. "It is to me. I see
the difference."  His Padawan braid had been pulled back against his head
and combined with the tail of hair, from which it trailed down his back. "I
look like I have a handle."

Qui-Gon twisted the braid up in his hand and pulled Obi-Wan close for a
lingering kiss. "Good," he declared when they broke apart. "Now I won't
have to chase quite as fast to catch you."

"You know you have only to call for me, Pantreti," Obi-Wan whispered.  "But
not now. You're going to be late feeding your strays.  And I'm going to be
late meeting Corubia."

"I wish I were free to go with you today," Qui-Gon said, running his hands
over his own hair one last time.

"I have to return that fighting staff, and this has been my first free
moment to do so.  I was just ignoring it, but now I don't even want it
around.  I'll take care of it, you take care of your own stuff.  Just don't
be late to Master Crowe's for lunch."

"I know, I know. This afternoon, Master Crowe's quarters, don't be late,
dire punishment if I fail.  You've all told me often enough."

"Take your commlink with you.  I'll chime you at noon and remind you."
Obi-Wan tossed the link to his master.

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, stepping into his boots. "You know me too well. 
Wish me luck.  I get to teach the level nines about speaking, non-sentient
lifeforms today.  They always traumatize the parrots."

"I'll be sure to have cav for you when you get free," Obi-Wan promised.

"You are too good to me, Padawan," and Qui-Gon was gone.

Obi-Wan went into his bedroom and stared at the Kho'la'bo.  He hadn't
touched the thing since he'd returned from Reptha.  Its gunmetal grey
surface reflected something to him, something that tasted of deception and
misunderstanding.  He could change this staff, call the life energy of the
Kurasians to him and make it a dangerous weapon of destruction... or at
least he once could have.  He hadn't tried to do that again, either.

He swallowed once and cleared his thoughts as the Nurians had taught him, a
different pattern than what Qui-Gon had taught him, more crude, less
comprehensive.  Then he pictured a vessel being filled with crimson rain. 
As the drops collected, they became silvered and glistening, constantly in
motion until as one they flowed together and cascaded upon the Kho'la'bo. 
It was at this moment that Obi-Wan reached out of himself for the igniting
spark of the Kho.  A single touch of the energy would bring the Kho'la'bo
to life.  He reached.

Nothing happened.

He reached again, pressing a little harder, then snatched his senses back
as if... as if... he shook his head.  His senses wanted to say he had been
burned, but nothing had ever quite felt that way before.  He regarded the
Kho'la'bo with even more suspicion than he had started out with.  He dug up
a sash from his laundry pile and fashioned a sort of strap for the staff. 
With this he slung it across his back and headed out to return it to its
owners.

He wasted no time getting down to Corubia's new quarters.  She and Master
Crowe had settled in nicely together, strengthening their bond so that one
might never know they had just recently been paired.  Unless one looked
just beneath the surface expressions, to the upper layers of their
thoughts.  

The Council had left the issue of Rue Torlamin to the Group, and Kourt was
deeply involved with the aftermath of her turning. Skies above knew how
that would affect their pairing.  Corubia had sworn up and down that it
didn't bother her, but Obi-Wan knew her too well.  Her cuticles were
mangled, and she was shedding scales at a fairly high rate, indicating a
bad case of nerves. 

Well, he supposed she had earned that.  And feeling nothing about the death
of one's past Master at the hands of one's current Master would indicate a
mental imbalance that simply wasn't there in Corubia's case.  Obi-Wan shook
those thoughts off as he thumbed the chime on her door.

She came to the door, ready to go. "Did you get the skimmer?"

"Yes, did you get directions and clear a flight schedule?"

"Didn't I say I would? " Corubia snagged her cloak and pulled the hood up.  

It was then that Obi-Wan noticed where her braid dangled. "You messed with
your hair, too?"

"I'm trying to create a sense of unity, here.  We get odd enough looks
without reason.  Might as well give them cause," she smiled.

"Just put your serenity on and let it go," Obi-Wan chuckled. "Jenji and
Swed are probably already waiting for us.

They were soon speeding their way to the governmental district.  Corubia
was piloting their atmospheric transport and Jenji sat next to her on the
front seat.  Obi-Wan was sitting next to Swed in back and trying to
assimilate his friend's new rank.  

"What?" Swed finally asked.

"It's just weird... dark pants, dark cloak, your braid gone... and your
hair has always been long.  Now that you've got it in a Knight's Lock..." 
Obi-Wan shrugged.  "You look grown up."

"Trust me, I'm not.  The Council approved for Master... I mean... for
Jayden and me to work together, but they won't let us off planet yet. 
Keeping an eye on the new bond and all.  It's a pain in the ass," Swed
grumped.

"What new bond?"  Jenji asked, twisting around in her seat.

"Well, since we're gonna work together and we're used to having a bond
between us, the Council went ahead and let us partner-bond once the
training one had dissipated," Swed explained.  "It's... different.  More
equal, more... frank and honest.  No emotion-tweaking and all that."

"They just let you do that?  So soon?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Sure.  With new partners, they make 'em wait.  With old teaching pairs it
doesn't matter.  You already know what the deal is.  Windu said if a master
and apprentice got along well enough to *want* to stay together, it saves
the Order a pile of pair-training and bonding time.  So... couple days
recovery from breaking the training bond, forge the new one and you're
ready to go," Swed elaborated.  "But it *is* a little different.  There's
no drive to constantly defer, for one thing.  It's amazing how much of that
comes from the training bond, rather than actual reflex."

The other three said nothing, but considered his words carefully.  Corubia
piloted the skimmer into the Order's hangar space and locked it down.  They
got out and checked one another's uniforms while Obi-Wan adjusted the
Kho'la'bo across his back again. They then headed for the Senate offices.

Obi-Wan lost himself in the soothing litanies of his official persona. *A
Jedi does not sneer.  A Jedi does not giggle.  A Jedi keeps his hands to
himself and his eyes on his surroundings.  A Jedi is aware of his...*

A flicker caught his attention and he glanced around him.  The hallway was
crowded, but the other pedestrians were making way for the Jedi entourage,
so there was a break in the foot traffic just wide enough for Obi-Wan to
see the pale blue glow near a large picture window.  He stopped cold. 
"Guys... do you see..."

Corubia swallowed loudly.  "There.  By the window... is that..."

"Yes," Jenji confirmed.  

"I think... it's okay," Swed murmured, his hand resting between Obi-Wan's
shoulder blades.

Darth Maul turned and stared at them, then strode away down the hall.

"Follow?" Obi-Wan suggested.

"Is there anything that could stop us?" Corubia's tone was a bit shaky, but
her steps were firm as she led them in the Sith ghost's wake.

Obi-Wan fixed his eyes on her back and directed his thoughts toward
Qui-Gon.  **Master?**

//Yes, Padawan?//

**It's happening.**

//Can you be more specific?//

**We're trailing Darth Maul's ghost through the Senatorial Offices.**

//The others see him too?//

** Yes, Master.**

//I'm going to our quarters.  Keep me posted.//

They hurried as only Jedi can, with utter serenity and not a flicker of
worry touching their faces.  If they moved quickly, it was with such grace
and calm that they seemed to be on a leisurely stroll.  If strangers had to
step quickly to get out of their way, well, Jedi must be deferred unto. 
Obi-Wan looked past Corubia just in time to see Maul turn down a
side-corridor.  "Any idea where he's going?" Jenji asked.

"He's... there are only a few offices down here," Swed supplied.  "Naboo
and Kurasia.  At the T-juncture there's the offices of the Trade Federation
and Ero Phelian."

A cold fist clenched around Obi-Wan's heart.  "That can't be..."

"Shit... where does that go?" Corubia murmured.

Darth Maul had stepped *through* a door and disappeared.

Obi-Wan glanced down at the nameplate.  "It's... this is where we were
going..."

"Well, at least we're expected," Jenji grimly noted as she touched the
doorplate.  They stepped into the reception area and saw that Maul was
standing before the far doorway.  After a beat, he stepped through that as
well.

Obi-Wan approached the receptionist.  "Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi here to see
the Kurasian Senator," he announced.

"I'm afraid he's not ready to see you," the receptionist informed him. 
"You'll have to sit and wait."

"Well, *I'm* afraid that isn't going to be good enough," Swed replied,
drawing up every bit of authority he could muster.  "I am under orders to
return these three to the Temple at the soonest possible moment.  That
means we will *not* await the pleasure of a bureaucrat, especially one who
demanded our presence in the first place."

The receptionist blinked and shook his head.  "I'm sorry..."

Obi-Wan raised his right hand and made a 'so-so' gesture.  "We will see the
Senator now."

The receptionist touched a button and the inner door opened.

"I don't believe you just did that," Corubia whispered.

"Tell Qui-Gon and I'll scale you like a trout," Obi-Wan replied.  

They stepped through the inner door and made their way along a hallway. 
The far wall was entirely of windows, a sweeping view of the skyline spread
out before them.  "I know this..." Obi-Wan murmured.  He stepped towards
the window for a better look.  "Reptha..."

"Look," Corubia said.

Obi-Wan turned his head and saw the blue spirit staring out over
Coruscant.  After a moment Maul turned away and continued down the hall. 
The Jedi hurried after him.  

"Is this something you got from Maul?" Corubia asked.

"Absolutely," Obi-Wan assured her.  **Master... I found that skyline...
we're still following Maul...**

//Don't shield against me, Padawan.  I need to be certain you're all
right,// Qui-Gon ordered.

**This is too strange, Master.  Did you know the Trade Federation hasn't
been disbanded?  Their offices are right here by the Nabooian delegation...
right down the hall from the Kurasians... right next to the Ero Phelian
group...**

//Really?  Researching...//

Qui-Gon's attention shifted and Obi-Wan wrenched himself back to his
present position.  "There, that's got to be it," he said.

Maul stepped through yet another doorway, beyond which Obi-Wan could sense
the presence of a familiar type of energy.  Someone was channeling the Kho
in there.  The door opened at their approach and Obi-Wan was stunned to
discover Chancellor Palpatine in conference with Senator Re'Nath Nurian. 
Darth Maul looked over his shoulder, eyes radiating his message.  *Oh skies
above...*

As one, the Jedi bowed.  Obi-Wan stepped forward and placed the Kho'la'bo
on Re'Nath's desk.  Then, as a unit, they turned and exited, never once
showing a hint of their shock at seeing Darth Maul kneeling at Palpatine's
feet.