"And just where do you think you are going?" Qui-Gon asked as he reset the flat-shield and turned towards the bedroom door.

Obi-Wan leaned against the jam, his clothing half-on, his lightsaber hilt gripped tightly in his hand. Too weak to even stand straight, he still struggled to move forward.

"Must...help you...danger."

The Master shook his head and stepped forward. He took Obi-Wan's shoulders in his hands and held him steady.

"There is no danger, Obi-Wan."

"But...I felt...."

"There was a fight, yes, but hardly any danger."

He gently uncoiled his padawan's fingers from around the saber hilt and steered him back to bed.

"Lie down and I will tell you everything. Under the covers. There. Comfortable?"

"I awoke. The room was empty. I felt you in battle."

Qui-Gon gathered energy and channeled it into Obi-Wan, replacing lost strength and cleaning out the last small pockets of fever. He did what he could to ease his pain, distracting him with touch as well as speech.

"Our mysterious adversary appears to have made his first move," Qui-Gon reported, "though it was one I freely admit I never expected. He hired five tavern toughs to kidnap me and hold me in a secure location until he could come for me."

"But why? Why kill me, kidnap you? My head spins with ideas and theories yet none of them fit the entire picture. We don't have any guarantee that the two incidents are even related."

"Let's not confuse the issue any more than it already is," Qui-Gon cautioned. "Two major crimes so closely timed with no connection would stretch the bounds of coincidence, I think."

"But we can't know for sure until we find out who is behind it."

"I've laid the first piece of bait to trap our mysterious mastermind, and it won't be long until I lay the second," Qui-Gon said. "I only hope one or the other serves to smoke him out of hiding."

Qui-Gon stood at the head of the negotiating table, his hands lightly resting on the back of his own seat. Before him, the three Ministers had already taken their places. Their Faithful sat in three distinct groups behind their chosen lord. Seven guards stood station around the room.

"The purification rituals are completed," he said, "and I have mourned the sun around, as is required by the Jedi Code. Only one step remains - fire to release my padawan's essence into the Force."

"Arrangements are already underway, Master Jinn," Verosri said. "Please inform Koom if there are any special items or materials that you will require. With your permission, we will delay resumption of the talks until day after tomorrow."

/Ahhh, just the kind of opening I was hoping for./

"I fear I cannot continue the negotiations, Minister Verosri. I have informed both the Senate and the Jedi Council of this, and have requested another Knight to complete the talks between your three worlds."

"But...we are so very close to an agreement," Verosri said. "To change arbiters at this point could carry the talks all the way back to the beginning."

"Again, I apologize. The death of my padawan has made it impossible for me to maintain an objective viewpoint. I am unable to perform the task for which I came." Qui-Gon met the three ministers' stares and bowed to each.

"Forgive me, but I will be leaving tomorrow, at first light."

Qui-Gon turned and left the room, unfazed by the riot of noise that burst out behind him. The second piece of bait was now in place. It only remained for their mysterious assassin to take it.

  Chapter 7

Obi-Wan stood in deepest shadows behind Qui-Gon in the musician's alcove high above the Grand Chamber. In the oval room below, a flower-bedecked pyre had been set up atop a wide heatstone base. A safety ring, in the form of a slender velvet rope, cordoned off the floor around it. The skylight in the great dome had been removed, leaving them with an unobstructed view of the late afternoon sky.

"Are you sure about this, Master?"

"As sure as I can be, given what little information we have. If our bait has worked, our villain will be desperate. If he wants me, he'll have to take me tonight, in the garden."

Qui-Gon sighed and looked away, disturbed by the false pyre set out below them. They had come so close to the real thing. "Are you positive you're up to this?"

Obi-Wan met his Master's concerned gaze with a stubborn glare. "I will not let you face danger alone, Master."

Qui-Gon studied his companion carefully, seeking any sign of hesitancy or weakness. Though not completely recovered from his near brush with death, the healing trance had removed much of the physical debilitation left in its wake. Given the element of surprise his sudden appearance would cause, he should be able to handle anything to come his way. Qui-Gon meant to deal with anything that might possibly tax the younger Jedi's strength.

"One thing yet puzzles me, Master."

"And what one thing is that?"

"Why didn't you let the men take you last night? On the surface it seemed a perfect opportunity to learn the identity of our enemy."

"How strong were you last night, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan frowned. "Master?"

"How strong were you? Were you recovered enough to fight off an attack? To move with stealth through a strange city in search for me? To even leave your bed? That is why I did not take last night's opportunity. In order for it to work, I need you strong enough to come to my aid should something go wrong." The fact that he would not, could not, leave his love unprotected was accepted but not voiced aloud.

His Master trusted him this much? Obi-Wan smiled.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the pyre below. "The wooden dummy is in place, as are the raw animal skins for a realistic scent and a pocket holo-mask for the head. The cloak and hood should hide the fact that you are not physically present, but with the breeze coming through that opening," he pointed toward the skylight, "I don't want to take any chances."

"And if the fire or heat should short out the theatrical projector before the flames obscure the facial features?"

"Then we will have some serious explaining to do, won't we?"

The first visitors appeared below, entering the chamber through a set of double doors on the western wall.

"You'd better find your place in the garden," Qui-Gon said. "As soon as the ceremony is over, I will excuse myself. If anyone asks, I will say I need a final evening of solitary grief and contemplation before I seek my bed. I will come straight to the garden. If all goes well, you'll be able to follow me. Together, we will find the mind behind this mystery."

Obi-Wan laid a hand on Qui-Gon's back, between his shoulders. "Be careful, Master. I could no more stand to see you on one of those things," he jerked his head toward the pyre, "than you could to see me there. Be mindful of that, and take no foolish risks."

"You, counsel me, on caution? Are you sure that toxin did nothing to your head?"

"Who better to caution against recklessness than one who is himself reckless?"

"Away, puppy, and find your place. I will be along shortly."

The Jedi Master turned his eyes back to the gathering. Even as Obi-Wan turned to leave, Qui-Gon caught his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Master?"

"I thought I saw - yes, there!"

Obi-Wan followed his Master's pointing finger.

"Matron Domna?"

"No, beside her. Her First Faithful. The shoes, just as the man last night described."

"Do you believe she acted on the Matron's orders? I know Domna of Romanth is determined to get you into her bed, but kidnapping a Jedi Knight, a Jedi Master, in the middle of delicate negotiations?"

"It would explain a great many things. Lust and desire are powerful motivators. To get to me, first you must be removed. During my moment of grief, she would slip in and console me."

"And...did she...console you, Master?"

Qui-Gon struggled to hide a smile at his lover's ill disguised jealousy. "No, Padawan Kenobi, she did not. But not for lack of trying. Still, I did not feel much of an urgency to her advances."

"Consider, Master, the function of the Faithfuls. To funnel off excess emotions. And during my 'my final performance,' Matron Domna mentioned Edina's skill in medicinals. She could very well have the knowledge necessary to create the neurotoxin that almost killed me."

"True. And it would explain Edina's odd behavior in the negotiations room even as you were being poisoned. There is at least one piece of the puzzle still missing. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, we will be able to see the entire picture."

Chapter 8

Qui-Gon timed his entrance most carefully. The westering sun flowed through the rooftop opening, casting the pyre in blinding, bright light and deep shadow. The dignitaries in attendance were gathered, speaking in low murmurs amongst themselves. He stepped into the room, his dark brown robes billowing around him. His form radiated a dignified strength and purpose. He looked neither left nor right, but strode forward until he stood at the base of the heatstone. The Master sank to one knee, both hands braced atop the other, back straight.

Behind him, the watchers had fallen silent. Certain at last that he had everyone's attention, Qui-Gon bowed his head in homage, then rose and withdrew a tar-soaked torch from a nearby stand. He dipped the flammable end into the fire, then raised the burning brand, as if in tribute.

"Be one with the Force, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and know that you are a Full Knight of the Jedi, today and forever."

The flames caught quickly on the pre-soaked tinder. Within moments, they spread all around the rectangular pyre. Master Qui-Gon fought down repeated shivers. He had to constantly remind himself that this was not his lover's body being consumed. A gentle breeze fluttered the hood to one side. Before Qui-Gon could use a subtle finger of Force energy to nudge it back in place, a stronger gust rushed in and removed the hood completely. Any attempt to put it back would be noted as unnatural. Thank the Force for the holo-projector. To be on the safe side, however, he Force-nudged the flames to greater heights on the forward end of the pyre. The holo-projector flickered. Within seconds it would stop working.

The fire would require only a few minutes more to completely obliterate the facial features of the dummy. He couldn't implant the images without breeching the ministers' mind-shields; they would instantly sense the intrusion. How to buy time, to keep the attendees from realizing the hoax?

Qui-Gon took a deep breath...and sang.

"Gone is my spirit,
     Gone is my love.
Gone is my last hope,
     Flown away.

Gone where I can see you no more,
     Leaving me lonely, aching, cold.
Yet still I feel you
     Deep in my heart,

And taste your kisses
     So tender and sweet.
Yet do you travel
     Through wondrous climes

Filled with love and smiles -
     A lifetime of dreams.
Dreams are all that is left to me
     Now that you are gone.

Taken, cruelly snatched from me,
     Never to love you more.
Gone is my spirit,
     Gone is my love.

Gone is my last hope,
     Flown away.
Gone where I can see you no more,
     Leaving me lonely, aching, cold."

By the time he finished the dirge on a grieving, sorrowful note, smoke and flames had obliterated any trace of the model's face. Qui-Gon bowed his head. As a final distraction, he wove the thick tendrils of smoke into a vaguely humanoid form, arms rising, reaching toward the heavens. The effect lasted a few moments then dissipated skyward.

One by one, the silent watchers slipped into the gloaming, until only Qui-Gon remained beside the pyre. He turned and walked towards the garden exit. Obi-Wan would be in position by now. If all went well, they would have the answer to all their questions within a few hours.

The dart pierced the back of his leg, just above the knee.

Qui-Gon stumbled and fell. Survival instinct overpowered his conscious thoughts, overrode their own capture plans. He fought the drug, rallied all his strength of Force and will to counteract it's effects. To no avail. Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master, pitched forward onto his face, unconscious before he hit the tiles.

Chapter 9

Obi-Wan searched for his Master's thoughts until the pain in his head grew too strong and disrupted his concentration. For Qui-Gon not to answer, he must be unconscious or...no, he refused to even consider that grim option. He would know if his Master had died. He would know.

What had gone wrong? Had their enemy suspected a trap? How had they managed to slip him out of the Grand Chamber without anyone noticing? Dozens of guests, soldiers, and Chamber attendees, and no one saw a thing. He had but one clue: a certain pair of red velvet slippers, gold braided, with a pattern of stones across the arch.

Night had settled over the Urathi Negotiation Consulate. No alarm had been raised, since no one except Obi-Wan knew of his Master's abduction. No additional security had been posted, no guards instructed to be extra-alert. Obi-Wan slipped past them all, evading humanoid, droid and mechanical surveillance until he stood in the corridor leading to Matron Domna's personal wing. From working with Qui-Gon on security, he knew which suite accommodated the Faithful and which housed the Matron herself. The Faithfuls' suite of rooms were connected by a common antechamber.

Obi-Wan found each of the five rooms empty. Conducting a quick search of each wardrobe, he located the shoes quickly enough. The gun took slightly longer to find, discovered in the same room as the shoes, hidden in a security box attached to the underside the bed.

A Force-check of the Matron's room revealed only two people inside. Hopefully, one would be the minister's First Faithful. He stepped through the door, and came face-to-face with Edina.

"Po-Riya defend!" The First Faithful threw her arms over her head and cringed in terror. "A spirit!"

"Where is my Master? Where is Qui-Gon Jinn?"

"What is going on here? Edina, what is all the noise?" Matron Domna appeared through a connecting doorway; her eyes grew round at sight of him in the foyer.

"The person responsible for poisoning me wore these shoes." He threw them to the floor. Edina gave a sharp bark of fright; both women leaped back as though escaping a venomous reptile. "And carried this."

He held the small projectile weapon up for their inspection before he laid it on a nearby sideboard. "That same person ordered the abduction of my Master. I will have his location before I leave this room."

Time. He was running out of time. If he meant to find his Master, he would have to resort to drastic measures. With deliberate slowness, he picked up each shoe and laid it neatly beside the gun. Before either woman suspected his purpose, he leaped forward, caught Edina by the arm and slammed her against the wall.

"The shoes are yours. I saw you wearing them at the ceremony tonight. You will tell me where you've hidden my Master, or by the Force, you will regret your silence."

"But...I am innocent. I know nothing of this!"

Matron Domna stepped forward to intervene. "Jedi Kenobi, you cannot - "

A crackling blue beam appeared to block her way and shock her into silence. Edina sobbed and cringed, kept from falling by Obi-Wan's bruising grip on her arm.

"Tell me!"

"But I do not know where he is! Po-Riya strike me dead if I lie! I do not know!"

Obi-Wan stood there, light saber poised before Edina's terrified eyes. The hissing, blue blade cast macabre shadows across her bloodless face. Never had the Dark Side beckoned him so seductively. His Master's voice flowed through his mind in a lesson given long ago.

/The boundary between threat and promise is very thin, Obi-Wan, and as fragile as a puff of smoke. Do not summon the former unless you are willing to accept responsibility for the latter./

To make a threat, one must be prepared to carry it through to the end. Was his willing to do so? To take responsibility for his current actions?

A flick of a switch - the blue blade disappeared. The deactivated saber slipped from numbed fingers and sank into the plush green rug. Obi-Wan fell to his knees before Edina, bowing low enough for the fibers to tickle his forehead. A hoarse sob escaped his throat.

"Forgive me."

Edina backed along the wall until she moved beyond his immediate reach, then dashed to safety behind her Matron. Domna hesitated an eternal moment, then moved a single step closer.

"Explain yourself to me, Jedi. Help me to understand the cause of your 'resurrection' and the basis for your wild accusations against Edina. Your words will decide if forgiveness will be forthcoming."

Obi-Wan recited the entire tale, up to and including Qui-Gon's description of the person who hired his attackers. He pointed to the damning evidence laid out on the sideboard. "The shoes. The gun. Your interest in my Master. Your knowledge of his presence in the garden just before he was attacked. Edina's skill with medicinals made her suspect in regards to the neurotoxins which almost killed me. All of these point to you, Matron Domna," Obi-Wan finished, "and to your loyal First Faithful."

Domna settled into a nearby chair. Her slender body trembled as though unable to hold her upright. "Yes, I can see how you arrived at your suspicions. I had not known that my interest in Master Qui-Gon was quite so obvious." She closed her eyes and swayed back against the headrest. "What have I done? Sweet Po-Riya, what have I done?"

Edina hovered over her, distressed. "Matron!"

"Matron Domna, I beg of you," Obi-Wan said. He rose and came to kneel before her. "If you have any knowledge that would help me find my Master, tell me."

"Would that I did, young Jedi. My heart tells me I am somehow involved in this tragedy. That it in some way revolves around me. But I have no knowledge that could possibly help you. If I did, I would certainly share it without reservation."

"The knowledge is there," Obi-Wan insisted. "We must find a way to bring it to the light."

"Then we should approach it as we would a negotiation. One point at a time."

Obi-Wan stood and moved to the sideboard. He stared down at the shoes and gun. "The shoes. If your First Faithful did not wear them that night, who did?"

"My Faithfuls share a suite of rooms across the hall," Domna said. "Anyone would have access to their wardrobe. It would be the same with all of the Faithfuls."

Edina, hands wringing her full skirt, added, "The rooms are never locked until all of us retire for the night. Anyone might have entered the rooms and borrowed the shoes."

"And the gun?"

Both Domna and Edina shook their heads.

"That I do not recognize," the Matron said. "It is small, light-weight, and easily concealed inside layers of clothing, yet streamlined to permit rapid withdrawal during an emergency. It is the type of weapon most often possessed by female bodyguards or female Faithfuls."

"Though I have heard of occasions," Edina reported, "when males have carried such a weapon."

"I am confused beyond measure," Domna said. "How would poisoning you, kidnapping your Master, and framing my First Faithful possibly help either Verosri or Feroi gain concessions in the negotiations?"

"It would not, and therein, Matron Domna, lies the truth behind this mystery. My Master believes it to be personal, not political. So we must determine who amongst all possible suspects has the most to gain."

Domna rose and slowly paced, her hands rubbing together. "Cause and effect. You, Jedi Kenobi, are dead. Poisoned. Your Master is stricken with grief, off-balance. Unable to prevent himself from being captured and detained, and most probably taken off-planet before a thorough search could be organized. And you, his apprentice, would not be around to organize that search or to use your mysterious Jedi powers to find him."

Obi-Wan took over the thread of reasoning. "Negotiations would be suspended until such time as another Jedi negotiator arrives. The talks, though rife with suspicion, would then go forward until an agreement is reached."

"But how do I come into this?" Edina asked.

"My death and my Master's disappearance would raise a hue and cry within the Order. An investigation would be launched. The fact that Qui-Gon Jinn apprenticed under Master Yoda would guarantee Council interest in his fate. The tavern trash who attacked him in the garden would eventually be found and questioned. Sooner or later, the finger of suspicion would point to Edina."

"Thus diverting suspicion from the real culprit." Domna paused her pacing next to the refresher bar. She poured herself a generous amount of amber kmati wine. Obi-Wan declined her offer of a drink.

"A fiendish plan. And one that might have succeeded, had you not survived, Jedi Kenobi."

"I do not believe the plan stops there, Matron Domna."

She paused mid-sip. "Why so?"

"We still have not found a single person who would gain from all these events. Diverting suspicion is all well and good, but there must be something more, some other tangible benefit. Why point toward Edina? Why not to any of the other Faithful?"

A tickle of intuition, possibly Force-guided, led him to ask, "How are the Faithful promoted to their positions? Say that Edina is accused of this crime. Who would benefit? Is there a protege or replacement who would advance into her position?"

"No. Zenon would then become First."

Obi-Wan frowned. "But wouldn't you replace them according to their number? A First anger focus replaced by the same?"

Domna shook her head and said, "The Faithfuls advance according to their seniority in my service. As I told Master Qui-Gon last night in the garden, my First Faithful, Rese, died last year in a riot. Edina then became First, Zenon Second, and Geona Third. After some months of testing, Kima assumed the confusion/fear focus and become my Fourth. Geona retired, thus moving Kima to Third, and allowing Joon to become my light focus. Were Edina to leave my service for any reason, Zenon would become First, and so on."

"Then Zenon, Kima or Joon would have the most to gain by Edina's removal. If we assume for a moment that Rese's death was not entirely an accident, Zenon is the only one of your Faithful who would benefit from every incident."

"Sweet Po-Riya. Please do not let this be true. Never in all the known histories of our three worlds has a Faithful ever betrayed their position for selfish gain. In a misguided attempt to serve their lord, perhaps, but never for personal gain!"

Obi-Wan bent over and wrapped his fingers around the metal tube of his light saber. His palm tingled, chilled by the touch of metal. When he spoke, his voice was far, far colder.

"Where is Zenon?"

Chapter 10

Obi-Wan Kenobi crouched in the deepest shadows of the dingy alley. He waited, dark cloak pulled close around him, hood drawn forward to hide his face, invisible to anyone who might look his way. Dawn was approaching, but for the moment, darkness was his ally. A three story building rose out of the trash and filth halfway down the block. The tumbling structure cut in half what little moonlight managed to penetrate into the Urathi slum. Qui-Gon was there, on the topmost floor. He could feel it.

Finding Zenon had been almost absurdly simple. Matron Domna had contacted him on his personal receiver, supposedly to confirm a meeting prior to the next morning's talks with Verosri and Feroi. Obi-Wan had tracked the signal. Having found the traitorous Faithful nursing his drink in a bar, the Jedi had but to wait and follow Zenon when he went to pay off his hired help.

Convinced that he'd at last found his Master, the young Jedi left his watch post and moved forward. His toe bumped something in the greasy sludge of the alley floor. A flash of stray light off polished metal caught his eye. Qui-Gon's light saber. Final proof that his instincts were right. He clipped his Master's weapon to his sash and eased forward again.

A wet, hacky cough and the slam of an inside door drove him back into the shadows. The man emerged from the building through the same side door Obi-Wan intended to use. The newcomer cursed as a dark apparition flowed out of the darkest night.

Unwilling to risk a noisy fight until certain of his Master's exact whereabouts, Obi-Wan waved his hand and influenced the man's thoughts, saying, "You will go straight to the nearest guard station." The man murmured the instructions back to him. Obi-Wan waved his hand once more. "You will tell them everything you know about the Jedi Master's kidnapping. You will lead them back here."

Under the Force's influence, the man stumbled down the alley and disappeared around the corner. Obi-Wan palmed his weapon but did not activate it as he slipped through the door and entered the tumble-down structure. The second man, encountered in a narrow stairwell, received the same instructions.

Hearing voices, Obi-Wan slowed his approach and crouched outside a half-rotted door. He eased the portal open, flinching at the grind of unoiled, rusty hinges. The sound, though it seemed unnaturally loud, went unnoticed by the men arguing in the room beyond.

Obi-Wan looked into the room. A hooded, masked figure in an expensive cape stood in the center of the room, arguing with three ruffians. The man he took to be Zenon did not appear to be armed, but the other three definitely carried blasters and at least two knives. He suspected they all carried hidden weapons, as well; their kind usually did. Qui-Gon lay against the far wall, face-down in a pile of scrap cloth and rotten bedding, blindfolded and bound hand and foot.

[Master? Can you hear me?]

[I thought you might arrive soon, even if things didn't go entirely according to our plan.]

Despite his certainty that Qui-Gon lived, hearing the confirmation of his mental voice along their bond left the younger Jedi momentarily weak with relief.

[That it did not, Master, but we did succeed in rooting out the mind behind it all.] He sent a burst of thoughts and images to update Qui-Gon on the happenings since his disappearance.

[Ah, I never would have suspected him. Well done, my Padawan. Now then, what do you say to clearing up this mess and getting back to our nice, warm bed?]

[I obey, my Master.]

"I tell you," the ruffian leader demanded, "you owe us 20,000 more creds for this one. He's a gods-cursed Jedi Knight, and we brought him down!"

"We agreed on a price," the figure said in an electronically altered voice, "and that is what you'll take. It'll be enough credit chips for you to spend the next five years in high style."

A gloved hand held out a small sack of credit chips which Obi-Wan could see, even from his location, bore the embroidered sigil of Matron Domna's clanhouse. Obi-Wan threw the door open wide and stepped through.

"The only thing they - or you - will be spending is the next twenty years in the nearest Republic prison."

"You!" Zenon yelled, falling a step back. "But - you' re dead!"

The three thugs grabbed for their blasters. Obi-Wan leaped and rolled, landing twenty feet to the left of their first shots. Even as his light saber sprang to full, hissing blue life, he unclipped his Master's weapon and tossed it across the room. A Force-stream guided the saber hilt directly into Qui-Gon's upturned palm. The Jedi Master set the beam at its lowest setting and quickly sliced through the bonds around his wrists. He cast the blindfold away and freed his ankles with a single swipe of the minute green beam.

Obi-Wan parried four blaster bolts in succession. One reflected back and hit the smallest man, who fell back with a cry. The other two scattered to opposite sides of the room to take cover behind old furnishings or boxes. Qui-Gon's blade leaped to full power. The two light sabers filled the air with an angry insect hum. Every time a bolt was fired, a blade intercepted or the target flowed to one side.

Zenon didn't bother to wait and see how the fight would end. The instant the Jedi Master gained his feet, the traitorous Faithful turned and ran out of the room.

"I'll get these two, Master," Obi-Wan called, even as he danced around in an elegant half-circle and backhanded a blaster bolt, reversing its trajectory. The shooter fell back with a scream of pain.

Qui-Gon reached the top of the stairway in time to see Zenon race across a lower landing. A leap up, over and out, a brief tug of Force support for balance - the larger man settled on the bottom landing, in front of his quarry. Zenon traveled too fast to stop in time. The hilt of Qui-Gon's saber caught his head as he tumbled forward into the Jedi's powerful body. The traitor moaned and collapsed to the ground. Blinking the stars from before his eyes, Zenon stared up - and up - at the Jedi Master whose crackling blade pointed to his neck.

"I surrender!"

The green blade held steady.

"Did you hear me? I surrender!"

The saber wavered. The Jedi's eyes, twin shards of ice, stared down on him with dark promise.

A soft voice whispered, "Master?"

Qui-Gon fought himself. Fought the fear. Fought the anger. Fought the hate. The one responsible for poisoning his mate lay helpless before him. He had only to lean forward the slightest bit to end the threat once and for all.

[Qui-Gon. Beloved.]

Warmth and love filled him, soothing the dark edges. Qui-Gon stepped back from the temptations of the Dark Side and deactivated his weapon.

Chapter 11

"So," Obi-Wan sighed as he rolled over to grin down at his bedmate. "I am now and always will be a Full Knight of the Jedi. Pity I had to die first."

Both of Qui-Gon's eyebrows shot up in mock dismay. "Where did you hear such a scandalous rumor? Surely not from my lips." He added a theatrically overdone stroking of his lover's padawan braid for effect.

"I cannot reveal my source," Obi-Wan drew idle circles around his lover's naked belly, "but I heard it was said at a most solemn and momentous occasion."

"Will you leave my bellyhole alone? There wasn't anything the least bit momentous about it." Qui-Gon swatted at his mate's mischievous hands. "I said, will you stop? That tickles! Obi - oh, all right. I might have mentioned something along those lines. But only as part of the deception."

"Hmmmm."

The comm buzzed. \\"Master Qui-Gon,"\\ Edina's voice came through the speakers. \\"Matron Domna and the Ministers of Doolinar and Urath have prepared a celebration in your honor, to celebrate the health of your Faithful. It is hoped that we may in some way atone for the harm done to you both through our blindness and complacency."\\

Qui-Gon sighed and closed his eyes.

"Please, Master, no parties tonight. Nothing diplomatic or formal."

"We could always go to the beach. The one you heard the servants mention."

"Silver sands," Obi-Wan whispered.

\\"Master Jedi, are you there?"\\

Qui-Gon kissed his lover's throat and purred, "Warm breeze and privacy."

\\"Hello? Hello!"\\

"Privacy. Very important, Master."

{FINIS}