Back to the last part... * * * Qui-Gon walked through the Temple halls without direction or purpose.  His hood drawn up, neither seeing nor hearing anyone, he passed meeting chambers, refectories, training rooms and living quarters with quick strides, unaware of direction or time until he stopped with a hoarse groan, bowing his head and struggling for emotional control.  Finally the anger faded, letting purpose and determination replace the angry emotions screaming for an outlet. He opened his eyes and took in his surroundings.  A slightly dusty corridor, largely empty, with only 'droids carrying boxes and pushing repulser loads.  He gave a short, ironic laugh.  He'd meant to come here - the northeast corner of the Temple on one of the lowest levels - *after* the Council had approved his petition. \\I've bluffed my way past worse situations...\\ he mused, and lowered his hood as he walked the short distance to the hallway's end and picked up a requisition datapad from a shelf to the left of the narrow door there.  Schooling his features to their normal calm, he finished entering the items he would need and walked in.        * * * The Quartermaster for Special Needs, Nasank Tijj, was an ancient Vindurian, whose back was badly bowed by age.  Following his retirement from active field and negotiation duty, he'd held this post for over twenty years, using the connections of a lifetime's work along with a great deal of ingenuity to find the necessary props, clothing, weapons and documentation for Jedi working undercover or in extreme conditions. A more pleasant task assigned to his office was preparing the proper robes and sashes for each Coruscant-based Knighting Ceremony.  As close to an item of vanity that any Jedi was likely to keep during a frugal lifetime of service, such garments were sewn by highly specialized 'droids, using an extremely rare silk originally woven on Coruscant but procured for many millennia now from Dantooine.  Each garment was carefully dyed to match the frequency of color of the Knight-Elect's 'saber crystals. Requisitions for such garments were usually sent from the Council, but it was not uncommon for a Master to make the request in person, in order to provide a 'saber crystal for color matching.  Qui-Gon was counting on the informality of the process to get what he needed for Obi-Wan. However, either the Council had anticipated his next move or the elderly Master was aware of Obi-Wan's condition.  After reading the datapad carefully, he looked directly at Qui-Gon. "I cannot fulfill your requisition, Master Jinn." "And why is that?" "I have not received notice from the Council that your Padawan is eligible to make his Petition." "I am telling you he is ready." "I can not create the necessary garments without their notification!"  Nasank shook his angular, green head.  "I don't even have the crystal to create the robe's color...." "I've brought the crystal," Qui-Gon retorted, laying a small pouch on the Vindurian's desk.  Nasank made no move to retrieve it. "I have heard about your Padawan's condition, Master Jinn, and I'm sorry..." "Is it a matter of the cost of the material?" Qui-Gon interrupted angrily. White eyes met his.  "You know it is not.  You know *very well* why I cannot give you what you ask for, Master Jinn." Qui-Gon stood still for a moment, meeting that milky gaze, as he again struggled to find control. "Thank you for your time," he finally answered in a low voice, and swept out of the office. * * * The rays of sun shining through the narrow, high windows of the Temple library began to shorten as the sun neared its noon zenith. The Jedi Master who'd been there several hours already had no need for such indicators of time's passage -- after eight months of waiting, he knew that time was now short. He had only a vague idea of what he was searching the Code for as he had never been a student of its literal tenets, preferring instead to interpret the will that divined the Code as the moment dictated. He was, however, highly focused and motivated and within a few hours he'd honed in on what he was looking for.  A half-remembered lesson on the more obscure ways a Padawan could become a Knight had fascinated a young initiate whose life goal was to become said Knight, and it was for details of one of these methods that he now searched. There was a way a Master could petition for his Padawan's ascension, harking back a thousand years to a time when the words of the Ceremony had a more than ritual meaning. A Master used to literally stake his own honor as a Jedi that his Padawan was worthy to bear the title of Knight.  In those tumultuous times, the Sith had beaten back the Jedi's numbers to the point that there was neither always a quorum of councilors available, nor a safe place to meet.  In a kind of field promotion, the Padawan was elevated in a private ceremony by his or her Master and confirmed later. If the confirmation was not approved, the Master forfeited his own place with the Jedi, as did the newly elected Knight -- *if* said Knight was still living. It was the specifics on this last bit that Qui-Gon had come to find.  As was often the case in any body of labyrinthine rules, it had never been struck from the Code though it was no longer needed.  Qui-Gon had never heard of it being invoked. The language for such a petition was archaic, made even more so by the ancient requirement that the petition be written on an actual paper scroll.  Qui-Gon carefully downloaded an example request into his datapad.  For the first time he could remember, he was grateful that the Temple was on Coruscant, one of the few planets guaranteed to have specialty shops for any conceivable item.  He returned to his rooms and quickly located an antiques vendor who sold real paper. * * * It was mid afternoon when Qui-Gon found himself again in the offices of the Quartermaster with his new petition.  Nasank eyed Qui-Gon with open suspicion, then surprise as he was presented with an actual paper scroll.  Looking at it for a long minute, he bid Qui-Gon to sit and slowly unrolled it. Reading it in total silence from beginning to end -- his species didn't breath -- he went back and inspected several portions, clawed fingers hovering above the parchment.  At last he looked up with milky, unreadable eyes at Qui-Gon who sat erect and silent. "I don't have to ask you if you understand the consequences of your petition... should the Council deny it." Qui-Gon nodded. "However, everything is in order.  I need a few hours to prepare the material.  I'll have it delivered to your quarters by the end of the day, and I will then forward your petition to the Council." "I'm sure they will have adjourned by the time you complete the items.  Surely... *tomorrow* morning will be early enough to forward the petition?" Qui-Gon pushed a soft pouch containing Obi-Wan's 'saber stone across the desk.  The Quartermaster opened the pouch and closed his webbed hand around the soft blue stone.  After a long moment, he acquiesced and simply nodded his head. Qui-Gon stood and bowed deeply.  "Thank you." The Quartermaster echoed the motion.  "May the Force be with you, Master Jinn." * * * Qui-Gon entered Obi-Wan's Padawan quarters for the last time, not that he was a frequent visitor: his Padawan usually met him in his own small suite of rooms when they were at Temple. Even after eight months, Obi-Wan's presence in the room could be felt quite clearly in the Force.  It was more evident in this empty space than it was in Obi-Wan's bed at the infirmary. Now that he was here, Qui-Gon found himself at a loss.  He needed to take any items that he wanted to keep after... Putting the inevitable out of his mind, he concentrated on gathering Ob-Wan's personal journal slates, mission work, correspondence and holopics. A box -- now covered in dust -- containing Obi-Wan's cloak and utility belt had been placed just inside the door, and Qui-Gon used this to hold what he took.  Tuned outward as his senses were for any hint of Obi-Wan's presence, Qui-Gon knew without looking that the force sensitive stone he'd given Obi-Wan for his thirteenth birthday was tucked away in that belt.  Still, after all these years. Other small gifts for various naming days and special occasions lined the room's single shelf.  Behind them were holopics, most of Qui-Gon or the two of them together.  When had Obi-Wan taken them?  He knew without looking that he would find mention of Obi-Wan's feelings towards him in the journals, but he hadn't the fortitude or time to look now.  When the box was full, Qui-Gon went to the closet and removed a dress white tunic and leggings, remembering Obi-Wan telling him he'd filled out to the point where they were tight on him and he needed to requisition another set.  That would no longer be a problem. * * * Qui-Gon arrived at Obi-Wan's infirmary room for the last time at seventh hour, and Marli was waiting for him.  Obi-Wan had been dressed in a simple shift and placed on a hover bed. "Qui-Gon.  He is ready." She held a small device, about half the size of a datapad, and motioned him over to her. "This unit now controls the implant that allows Obi-Wan to breathe.  Its operation is simple.  Press here and the implant will stop functioning.  If you like, this dial provides a simple timer unit.  There... is no way to reactivate the implant once you use this."  She handed him the device, and he placed it in on his belt. "Marli..." No other words would come. "It's all right, Qui-Gon.  I'll know when it is over and will send someone after a time." He nodded, then placed his cloak over his Padawan and lifted him off the hover bed.  "I'll carry him." * * * Qui-Gon carried the still form through the Temple halls.  Obi-Wan's face rested against his neck so that he could feel each exhalation, and Qui-Gon was careful to not place any strain on the fragile body.  He couldn't lose Obi-Wan now, not now that they were so close. He'd expected to have to draw upon the Force to make the journey, but Obi-Wan's weight was a fraction of what it should have been.  He chose a less traveled route, ignoring those few he passed who gazed at him in curiosity, respect, and sadness until he at last arrived at his rooms and voiced the door open. The furnishings of the main room had been pushed against the walls and out of the way, except for a low, spacious couch now in the center of the room.  There was only dim lighting, with a few scattered candles providing most of the illumination. Qui-Gon lay Obi-Wan on the couch and carefully maneuvered the long shift he wore in the infirmary off over his head.  He couldn't help but flinch at the sight of too prominent ribs and jutting hipbones, knowing he was the one who had reduced Obi-Wan to this state. Carrying Obi-Wan into the refresher where he'd placed a tub of warm water, Qui-Gon adjusted the temperature with a touch of Force. He carefully laid his charge in the tub, settling his head against a towel on the lip. He bathed Obi-Wan, talking as he worked. "I've found a way, Obi-Wan.  A loophole to be sure, but it will stand until you are Knighted.  The Council will consider it in the morning.  I hope it will stand then, but if it doesn't, it will be only myself disgraced." He washed Obi-Wan's hair while supporting his head with one hand, then took up his trimming scissors and went to work on hair which was months too long after carefully separating the lock for his braid. "It's usual for a Master and Apprentice to spend this night in reflection.  It's a time to ponder our place in the universe, the Force and the Order -- and a time to reminisce on our years of service together as well. "We cannot do this properly, but I would tell you some things I've not said before, so there will be nothing unknown between us." Qui-Gon finished clipping Obi-Wan's hair as best he could, and reverently wrapped the fallen strands in a soft cloth and set them aside. He lathered Obi-Wan's face and began to shave him.  Obi-Wan had a heavy beard.  \\It would have been heavier than mine,\\ he thought, though the rest of Obi-Wan's body hair was sparse. "I want you to know how very proud I am of you.  You grew from a tentative, insecure boy who only thought about how to obtain a Master, to a confident man who has no problem speaking up to his old Master for what he believes in.   Though you and I follow the will of the Force in different ways, you always walked the path of light. "And in that *moment* -- when you showed me the true nature of your love -- I could see a future for myself that held joy beyond my service to the Force. Oh, that I could have bonded with you..." He stopped talking, lest his hands become unsteady, and finished shaving Obi-Wan.  Moving on, he filed finger and toenails, and lifted Obi-Wan out of the tub onto a pile of soft towels and gently dried him. Returning him to the couch in the main room, Qui-Gon retrieved Obi-Wan's dress whites and began to awkwardly dress him, forgoing utility belt and boots.  He opened the package beside the couch, revealing a beautiful blue cloak, sash and a small swatch of matching cloth.  He affixed Obi-Wan's tunic with the sash, and lifted him up to wrap him in the cloak, laying the still head back into his lap.  Braiding Obi-Wan's hair once last time, Qui-Gon wrapped threads of the same blue color into it, tying it off just below the ear and a few inches above the end. Qui-Gon then took a pouch from his cloak and removed a pendant on a long trentium chain.  It was a rare opallios-gem. "Do you remember when you first saw this, Obi-Wan?  You must have been around sixteen.  We were supposedly shopping for a gift for your friend Reeft who was going off planet for two years, but I think we were mostly just enjoying the day.  The market square was on an upper level in quadrant 18, and I, for one, was enjoying real sunlight.  I was doing nothing more strenuous than pondering lunch, when I heard you say... * * * "Master, you have to see this!" "I'm coming, Padawan.  What is it?" "I'm not certain, but it is wonderful." Obi-Wan pointed to a pendant on display in a shop window.  Qui-Gon recognized the stone.  "That is a opallios-gem, Obi-Wan.  Very rare, very expensive." "I've never seen anything like it.  Master...?"  Obi-Wan shut his eyes, and slowly smiled.  It was a full smile, a rarity for him.  "I can *feel* it..." Qui-Gon sensed it too.  The stone, carefully displayed on a black background with a clear light shining down from the display's lid, was ablaze with every color his eyes could pick up from the spectrum.  But it radiated with something besides shimmering colors.  The stone had a Force presence. "Very good.  You detected that the gem is Force-sensitive without even touching it." At the mention of touching the stone, Obi-Wan peered closer, but then stepped back, taking in the ambiance of the shop window and realizing it was a specialty store for expensive items.  He peered up at Qui-Gon and there was a simple, low-key joy in his gaze.  He was happy to have seen and sensed a beautiful object. * * * "But I realized in that moment that I still doubted you on some fundamental level, my Padawan.  I wondered if you truly could you be satisfied to just see something beautiful like that and not wish to possess it.  So I began to question you.  Do you remember? "I asked you if you would like to go into the shop and touch the pendant.  You seemed a little surprised, and explained to me -- to *me* -- that all the items in that shop were probably quite expensive. "But I wasn't satisfied with that answer.  I asked, in a casual and, I'm afraid to say, deceitful manner that wasn't it a shame that we as Jedi would never possess such beautiful things.  We were in a unique position to appreciate the gem, yet would likely never have the wherewithal to own it. "Because I was manipulating you, you didn't realize what I was really asking.  Xanatos would have considered such things his due.  He was merely waiting for the right time when any object he desired he could have -- or take.  He had misled me, and I feared that desire to *possess* might be in you. "Do you remember what you told me, Obi-Wan?  You said that it would be wonderful to own such an item, to be able to see the beauty every day, and feel the Force presence.  But you already possessed the gem because you would always remember it and besides, you *had* a Force stone of great value.  And you brought the rock that I gave you for your thirteenth birthday from your pocket and graced me with one of your sly smiles.  You know the ones, Padawan, that tell me I am being a bit silly, or slow. "I think I might have squeezed your shoulder, or maybe patted your back and laughed, but inside...inside it was if a great weight had been lifted from my heart." Qui-Gon slipped the fine but strong chain around Obi-Wan's neck, pulling the braid out and laying the opallios pendant on the V of his white tunic. "Some years later I was in the same district, and saw the same shop.  The owner had fallen on hard financial times, and I used my savings to procure the pendant at a reduced price.  I had no use for the credits, and I thought it would make a nice surprise for your Knighting Day." There was nothing left to do; everything was in order.  From his tunic, he removed a small knife. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, by my own honor as a Knight of the Jedi Order, and my place as a Master, I place the burden of Knight on you.  May the Force be with you and guide your actions always." As he spoke words of a ceremony not used in a thousand years, he sliced through Obi-Wan's braid and wrapped it in the small blue cloth swatch, folding it carefully and placing it in his tunic.  He then removed the small remote device Marli had given him, set it to ten minutes and activated it. With one hand on Obi-Wan's forehead and another on his rhythmically rising and falling chest, Qui-Gon sent his spirit to find that part of Obi-Wan which still clung to life. * * *                                                On to the next part...