.                      Bonds of Choice #8
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 1 of 2)
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They reached the moon of Repta late the next ship's morning.  It was every
bit as inhospitable as they had been led to believe.  Although the moon had
a breathable atmosphere, it was dangerously cold at this point in the solar
cycle.  Corubia and Torlamin scanned every square inch of the surface,
discovering a dozen tiny installations hidden in the canyons they were
targeting.  They were seemingly deserted, no transports on or below the
surface that they could detect.  Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan could not sense
anything in the Force that would indicate that the installations were
inhabited.  They set down close to the first buildings, windows whited out
in the midst of a snowstorm. They gathered in the cockpit to decide a
course of action.  

"They could be anywhere in any of these complexes, or in none of them.  I
think, though, that any of us could pick a cache of these crystals from
outside…given proper concentration," Qui-Gon said.

"You're suggesting we go out into that storm and _meditate _?  Cold like
that could kill Corubia.  She's not made for that kind of weather,"
Torlamin objected.

This was true.  Corubia's people were merfolk.  Though she was readily
adaptable to any number of air and water environments, she was unusually
sensitive to extremes of air temperature.  This sensitivity had kept her
out of field work for most of her training.  Obi-Wan felt sorry for her,
for all the experiences she'd missed, training mostly at the Temple with
her Master and whoever was on-planet.  Still, he couldn't really recommend
she be sent out into variable, possibly deadly conditions.  He'd seen her
shiver with cold on the windy balconies of the Temple, just as she had
stoically suffered the bright rays of summer sunlight.  Without a
perspiration outlet to regulate temperature, heat was much more her enemy
than cold.  But cold was by no means her friend.  

"I wouldn't consider sending her out there unprotected, any more than I
would ask Obi-Wan to do a deep-sea exploration without a breather.  Since
he and I have the most experience with the Chendry crystals, we will do the
searches.  I will take the first installation."  Qui-Gon turned to his
Padawan.  "Did you pack the cold-gear?"

Obi-Wan nodded and went to root it out of the cargo hold.  

Obi-Wan helped Qui-Gon bundle up at the head of the entrance ramp.  He
could hear the howling of wind and scrubbing of snow through the bulkhead,
a foreboding sound to say the least.  "Are you sure you have to go out into
that?" 

"It would be best to get as close as possible.  Perhaps a lead-line
wouldn't be amiss, though.  Do we have anything…" Qui-Gon smiled as Obi-Wan
sprinted off to fulfill the request.  When he returned, he had a coil of
rope and a length of gray cloth.  "What's this?"

Obi-Wan's face fell.  "You don't remember?" He unfolded the cloth,
displaying the checkerboard pattern worked into the knit muffler.  "You
made it for me…"

"Yes!  I remember now!  Lovely Scarsican wool…you got it for me on Sereda,
back when I was having one of my nervous phases.  I've never seen you wear
it, though…I suppose I thought you lost it."  Qui-Gon took the scarf and
examined it with an expert eye.  He'd had his own bouts of nervous tics
over the years, months on end when he couldn't sit still to save his life. 
One of his covers for it had been what Kourt had dubbed 'playing with
string'.  He'd learned to spin, knit, tat, crochet, sabrocel, knot…anything
to keep his hands busy and useful.  One of his projects had been this
scarf.  Many yards long, of a basic, repeating pattern, it had marked the
end of his last bout of nerves.

"No, I never really wear it… I didn't want it to get damaged.  It's so
lovely,"  Obi-Wan began winding it carefully around Qui-Gon's throat.  "So
don't mess it up, okay?"  he dropped a quick kiss on Qui-Gon's lips before
covering his mouth and nose.  Obi-Wan then wound the rope around Qui-Gon's
waist, knotting it several times before securing the other end to his own
belt.  "You are strictly forbidden to untie this for any reason, Qui-Gon. 
If you do, I'll come out and fetch you myself.  And that'll be the last
kiss you get for a long time to come."

Qui-Gon nodded his assent, eyes twinkling with good humor at the threat.

"I'm going to recite 'Seraphas Breath' ONCE before I haul you back, so do
what you must, but quickly.  I'll be monitoring you through the Force as
well…I'm no more than a thought away, Master."  Obi-Wan stepped close,
paused to consider, then embraced his teacher in a fierce hug.  "Be
careful."

//Yes, my Obi-Wan.  I'll come back quickly.//

Obi-Wan closed the doors at either end of the front hallway and lowered the
ramp.  Wind and snow whipped in, cutting through his cloak.  He pushed
Qui-Gon towards the ramp.  "Hurry!"

He watched as the blank white wind swallowed his master, then settled down
on the slowly-freezing deck to time his absence.  They had long ago
discovered that counting didn't work for them, when it came to timing
things.  Neither of them cared to wear a wrist-crono.  They tended to be
heavy and restrict movement in lightsaber technique.  The solution had been
poetry and songs.  In this case, only Obi-Wan needed to be aware of time
passage.  Qui-Gon would probably be far beyond such considerations.
'Seraphas Breath' was one of the less utilitarian pieces he knew, but one
that was calling out to Obi-Wan.  A good mood piece for his current
circumstance.

In this place between us 
We were meant to be together
Though my home may change, and my life
We were meant to be together.

The Seraphas descended
And from his lips came the winds of life
In me the Seraphas changed me, gave wing
Created woman and man in me

Of all things that ever we were, all I ever felt
Was made a strange mixture of love and loss
So often had the gift been glimpsed and reached for
How unusual to hold it in my hand.

You.

Only time and circumstance prevents me now
The Seraphas within me, held within and in reserve for release
As hold I still the need for respiration
As hold I still the thrum of my heart beating
As hold I still the tears of joy now brimming
As hold I still the quickening of life within me
As hold I still the ancient call of passion
As hold I still the words upon my lips
As hold I still the picture of you in me
So hold I still the time from passing
Time that moving would bring us together.

In this place between us
We were meant to be together
And yet at this moment we can step not together
No more than can the stars step from the sky.

The Seraphas yet into you has not descended
And still you remain the standing stone

Obi-Wan breathed out slowly, opened his lips once more adding lines to a
poem that had been unchanged for ages on ages.

Twined my soul to yours did you
With nothing more than threads of silk
And no strength known can break me from you now.
Holding still, in duet and duality
We, apart, with space between us.

Obi-Wan reached out to Qui-Gon's mind.  **Master?** 

A moment passed.  No answer came.  He stood and began hauling on the rope
even as he seized hold of Qui-Gon's body through the Force and pulled it
in.  The bulky shadow that emerged through the veil of snow and ice was
limp and still.

*Oh, skies, no. *  

Snow had been forced into his parka, stiffening it with icy crust.  The
scarf had frozen hard with Qui-Gon's breath, crystals broke under Obi-Wan's
fingers as he pulled it away.  "No," he denied, watching carefully for any
flutter of eyelid on the too-still face, any movement of breath on the raw,
cold lips.  He tore at the restrictive layers of clothing, pushing them
aside, unmindful of the cold wind and snow that washed over himself and his
master.  He pressed his ear to the bared chest, listening, feeling, WILLING
a heartbeat, the rise and fall of respiration.  Nothing.  Tears stung his
eyes, the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his lip,
straining to hear, to feel.  His fingers closed around Qui-Gon's clothes,
shaking him, "NOOOOO!"

Cough.

Obi-Wan began offering thanks to every deity he had ever heard of, in
alphabetical order.  He closed the entryway, gathered Qui-Gon up in a
rescue-carry and headed for his master's rooms on the deck above.  By the
time he had him on the floor of the bedchamber, Qui-Gon was shivering,
teeth chattering, hair wet with melting snow.  Obi-Wan stripped him down
quickly and bundled him into bed.  He stripped himself, leaving his now
equally sodden clothes in a pile beside his master's and dove in under the
blankets, sharing what warmth he had with his master.

**Qui-Gon!  Qui-Gon!  What happened!?**

//Chendries.  Lots of them.  Caught me off-guard…//

Obi-Wan breathed a sigh of relief.  Not the cold.  It hadn't been the cold
that made him pass out.  Psychic shock, or something like.  His skin was
warming now, the shivers fading.  Obi-Wan ran his hands over arms, held
long fingers under his arms until they were no longer ice-cold, slipped
down a bit to catch chilly toes between his knees, warming them as well.

Now that the shivering had stopped, Qui-Gon was trembling in some other
pattern.  Wheezing breath escaped his lips.  It took Obi-Wan a long moment
to realize his master was laughing.  "What?"

Qui-Gon smiled down at his Padawan.  "Oh, I was just wondering how I might
convince you to spend your retirement with me on Hoth."

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

They decided to stop their retrieval operation until the storm had passed. 
Long hours passed as the kept an eye on the storm, waiting for an
opportunity.  Qui-Gon explained that, while the Chendries were not in the
nearest buildings, they were quite close by, all together somewhere.  The
combined energies had quite overwhelmed him, with his shields lowered as
they had been.  Anger and bloodlust had simply washed through his being
until his only recourse had been to flee.  The shock had left him utterly
defenseless…he'd passed out in the blizzard.  The rest, Obi-Wan had seen
for himself.

Qui-Gon had fallen asleep not long after he'd gotten well and truly warm. 
Obi-Wan wandered down to see Corubia.  She was sitting in her bedroom
working on an assignment of some sort.  "Whacha doin', there?"

"Master Windu had an assignment for me that I didn't get finished before we
left.  He's been handling all my philosophy training lately.  Did you ever
notice how much he sounds like Master Yoda when he has to teach something
he doesn't agree with?"  Corubia smiled.

"Yeah, Qui-Gon does the same thing.  Listen I was thinking about what you
were saying earlier… do you really think Qui-Gon likes me, or do you think
he likes who he thinks I am?"  Obi-Wan sat down on the floor next to the
sofa.

"Yeech, that's as bad as one of Master Windu's questions.   You should hear
the one about the Ewok in the forest."

"I'm serious.  You know about all this High Potential stuff, right?"  At
Corubia's nod, he continued.  "Well, Qui-Gon's known about it all along.  I
haven't.  Don't you think that colors how he sees me, as opposed to how I
really am?"

Corubia shut her lightslate down and tucked her feet under her.  "Well,
yes.  I suppose it would."

"And what if how I really am is nothing like how he thinks I am?"  Obi-Wan
pressed.

"That would be a problem,"  Corubia conceded.

"From what he said, the other High Potentials are really active, stay in
the field all the time, work all the time…I don't know.  He's so into his
missions, into that part of the Order, that I've barely seen all the other
things the Jedi do.  I want to know about all that, but I don't think I'd
have time to find out if I had to chase him all over the Republic, which is
what I'd do if we were partnered.  I know I don't trust anyone else to back
him up out here."

"I've said it before.  Here it comes again.  You love him, but you're not
in love with him," Corubia said this as if she had repeated it many times,
in just those words.

"Yeah, well, you're right.  I'm not in love with him yet.  Maybe I want to
be and I know he's already at least halfway in love with me.  But what if
he finds out I don't want to go gallavanting all over the Galaxy with him,
saving worlds, righting wrongs, playing Warrior in a universe sick of war? 
I really don't want that for my life, but I think that's the life I'd have
with him," Obi-Wan put his head down.  "I could be wrong.  I'm just a
little Padawan here.  What do I know?"

Corubia slid down off the sofa and pulled him in for a hug.  "You're not
wrong.  You would be an excellent teacher for the Trainees.  I think
Qui-Gon would understand if that's what you want to do with your life."

"And it IS my life," Obi-Wan smiled.  "Or will be, after the Trials."

"You need to tell him all this.  You've got to be honest with yourself and
Qui-Gon, or someone's gonna get hurt pretty bad here.  I also think you're
putting too much worry into your rank, Obi.  Nobody else cares, you know. 
Best of the Padawans, worst of the Knights, what's the difference?  Not
much, to hear most people tell it.  So maybe the question you need to ask
is WHEN you want to be okay with falling in love.  What would it take for
you be okay with going gonzo-nuts over somebody?"  Corubia looked at him
expectantly.

"Not yet.  It's just not right.  Not while I'm a Padawan, Cor.  I've got to
go check the weather.  Thanks, Sis," Obi-Wan hugged her.

"Any time, bro.  And bro…there's someone I want you to meet when we get
back to the Temple.  He's…kinda special to me."   

Obi-Wan could have sworn she blushed.

"Yeah, okay.  I'm looking forward to it," he smiled.  "I'd love to see what
you think 'special' is."