Qui-Gon cut at the air where Maul stood, leaping forward every time he retreated, intent on ending this battle as quickly as possible. The soldier was strong with the Force, but not adept in its use; even so, Qui-Gon felt as though he were chasing shadows across the room. The battle raged on between them, fierce and quick. Qui-Gon took the offensive, aggressive and sure of his ability. Maul had produced some sort of hand-held saber, a cutting implement never meant to be used as a weapon, but in Maul's hands, it had been fashioned into a deadly tool. Qui-Gon was spending much of his time avoiding contact with the blade; unlike a saber, the blade was short, easily concealed, and difficult to combat.
With sudden power, the bond that connected him to Obi-Wan opened and a flood of information deluged Qui-Gon - he knew Obi-Wan was on his way, without Anakin, and that Xanatos was with him. He knew Anakin was dead. And there was more, much more. Hate. Regret. Love. So much that he was overwhelmed for a moment. Maul made his move, a sudden rush toward Qui-Gon with his blade extended.
For years to come, Qui-Gon would remember with satisfaction the look of sheer surprise on Maul's face as Qui-Gon thrust his saber forward and cleanly severed both his hands. The saber-blade clattered to the ground, useless, and Qui-Gon ran Maul through with his saber, piercing his heart. In that moment, it was ended, and Maul fell to the ground dead.
Qui-Gon wasted no time surveying the scene around him. The Imperial troops had left him at Maul's mercy, thinking no doubt that the battle would be easily won by their leader, and had gone into the landing bay after the slaves. He could hear blaster fire in the bay. Obi-Wan was close now; the bond was still open. There were shouts in the distance as well; troops were on the move toward the landing bay. Qui-Gon moved quickly to the doors and began to strip the controls. It would not do to have their pursuers on their heels.
Xanatos and Obi-Wan rounded the corner, sprinting ahead of Imperial troops who shouted commands and laid down a thicket of blaster fire. They paused for a moment as they passed Leyran's body, and a look of sorrow passed across Obi-Wan's features. Qui-Gon waited patiently for them, and the moment they had passed through the doors together, he stepped back and touched the controls with the tip of his saber. The melted wires triggered the door, and as it slammed down, Qui-Gon ran behind Xan and Obi-Wan.
The landing bay was strewn with bodies, but Qui-Gon's heart lifted as he scanned faces and saw that none of the slaves were among them. The ramp of the Regent's transport was down. Dead troops littered the area around the ship; Qui-Gon spared a moment to notice the precision of their injuries as they pounded up the ramp and forward, into the cockpit area. Valorum met them there, and Qui-Gon gestured in the direction of the strewn bodies. "Your work?"
Valorum smiled slightly. "My men were in need of something to keep them entertained while we waited."
Obi-Wan pushed past them all and laid a hand on the captain's shoulder. "Get us off this planet!"
The captain nodded, absorbed in the business of obeying the command, and his fingers moved swiftly over the controls. Each action seemed to take forever, stretched out by the urgency of the moment, and Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan's fingers digging into the man's shoulder. Lights flickered on the panel; a frown appeared on the captain's face, and he exchanged a brief glance with the navigator, who reached for the lift controls and pressed them.
Nothing happened.
"We should be moving," the captain said in a tone of puzzled desperation. "There isn't any indication...I don't know what's wrong!"
"We don't have time for this," Obi-Wan muttered. He turned to Qui-Gon. "Help me."
Even without the bond to instruct him, Qui-Gon knew exactly what was required, and a momentary surge of doubt overcame him. "It may not be possible," he said softly.
"Do you see another option?" Obi-Wan asked. "All we need to do is lift the ship. Once off the ground, we have propulsion. Don't we?" he asked, looking sharply at the captain, who nodded with something like certainty. Satisfied, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. One of his hands rose slightly at his side, and his fingers separated, holding tense in mid-air.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes as well. In the distance, there were sounds - Mathius weeping quietly; the hollow echo of blaster fire as the big bay doors began to give way; the creak and groan of metal as the ship fought to obey the commands of the pilot. He could hear Xanatos' harsh breathing, and the noises of the navigator and pilot as they frantically searched for the problem.
He set those noises aside, and the world became silent because he willed it to be so.
Obi-Wan's strength was in his mind, in his heart, just as he knew his strength was in Obi-Wan. He opened himself fully to the Force, to its raw power and frightening beauty, and let it overtake him for a moment. He began to focus on the ship, on lifting it, on taking them far from this world. He let the Force flow through him, magnified by Obi-Wan's control, and together they channeled the Force, willing the ship to rise.
There were strange fluctuations in the Force as each man struggled to find balance with it and with each other. Qui-Gon was conscious of Obi-Wan, but his awareness of all that surrounded them was changed. He could feel Obi-Wan near him, his presence shimmering in Qui-Gon's mind. For a moment, doubt overcame him, but he set it aside and listened to the Force. He gave himself over to the certainty that anything could be possible, and now it was not just his certainty, but Obi-Wan's as well.
For a split second, it seemed that perhaps they would overload, that they would simply cease to exist and become one with the Force, but the balance they sought settled over them suddenly, and Qui-Gon felt the pressures of the material world give way.
"Something's happening," the pilot said, shock in his voice. The ship bumped up, hovered, but moved no farther.
Qui-Gon's eyes flew open and his gaze locked with Obi-Wan's. It would not be enough. They could not do it, but they would not stop trying. They pushed with all their might, and Qui-Gon's eyes drifted closed again as he turned inside, to the place of strength he had worked all his life to attain.
The ship lifted another few feet, and Qui-Gon could feel his body straining to do the tasks asked of it, to be the vessel for the Force. Obi-Wan's determination bled through, and his will to make the ship fly was strong, stronger than anything Qui-Gon had ever felt.
Suddenly, there was a surge in the Force, and Qui-Gon gasped. It was something he had never felt, a completeness of power, a certainty that anything could be possible. It shone through his mind like white light, in waves, beating against his consciousness, and then it became smooth, pulsing, a living Force, like the unstoppable flow of a river.
Xanatos' presence in the Force was strong with him, and he opened his eyes. Xanatos stood next to Obi-Wan, eyes closed, lending his own power to theirs, and the difference was astounding. Qui-Gon felt a sensation of complete dominance, as though the universe was his - theirs - to control. A heady sense of victory swept through him, a surge of pride and achievement, all things a Jedi should not feel, but he was past caring. This was something too perfect to be beaten back by Jedi guilt. There was nothing they could not do, together.
But first, the ship must rise.
Without warning it happened, and this time without effort, as though the powerful lift system had been amplified a million times. The craft levitated, guided by the captain's hands on the controls, and moved through the sky on a wind created from the sheer will of the Force. It ascended into the Taganor's atmosphere, scaling the clouds and searching for stars to guide it.
The three men opened their eyes simultaneously and released their hold on the Force as the ship entered space, where fuel-driven lift was no longer needed.
Qui-Gon exhaled softly, stunned, and looked from Obi-Wan to Xanatos. Something had changed. Something...he could sense it, but he could not name it.
Xanatos sat down abruptly, holding his ribs, still staring at Obi-Wan. There was wonder in his eyes, and fear. Blood had dried and darkened on his hands and arms, a grim reminder of what had transpired. In the background, Mathius wept quietly, sheltered in the small comfort of Ket'al's arms. Obi-Wan went to him, squeezed his shoulder gently, then withdrew his hand.
Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. "Now, Jedi, tell us where the others are hiding."
Qui-Gon inclined his head toward the nav console. "Yavin. We must make our way to the moons of Yavin."
*****
Space travel had its own peculiar brand of silence - a smooth, deep quiet, unbroken by sound. Only light pierced the vacuum, in the form of a thousand close and distant stars streaking by the thick portholes. They taunted the darkness with their brilliance, and then faded into distant obscurity.
Obi-Wan had seen these stars before. They were welcome beacons, calling him home. Even as he stood and basked in their cold security, he felt the chill of more than deep space in his heart. Nothing would ever seem normal for him again, no matter what kind of reception they received on Yavin.
And there was another matter, as well. What had transpired between the three Jedi weighed upon him; it had left its residue on his heart. It should not have been so easy, with only Xanatos' assistance as the catalyst to what they all needed. The power they possessed together was natural, and each of them felt this...and yet, Obi-Wan was troubled. Something had been born between them, and was growing more powerful with each moment.
Still, there was more. Obi-Wan could feel Xan in the back of his mind, and it should not be possible for that sensation to co-exist with the bond that was already formed there.
But it did, and now he had that to contend with, as well.
A sound behind him drew his attention away from the window. He turned to see Qui-Gon setting something on the circular conference table. As the Jedi drew his hand away, Obi-Wan was able to discern the glitter of jewels set in a pattern he had designed.
"I believe this belongs to you," Qui-Gon said.
"I'm surprised you waited this long to remove it." Obi-Wan picked up the slave bracelet and turned it between his fingers. It seemed surprisingly heavy. The metal had been cut cleanly, near the clasp, which had been designed never to open, once closed.
"There was no opportunity to do it sooner. And the weight of it had become...bearable."
Obi-Wan looked up and met his bondmate's eyes, and a long look of some significance passed between them. So many things that had not been said, that could never be said. "You did only what you were forced to do, Qui-Gon. I have much to atone for in this regard."
"I did as I chose to do. Even as a slave, some choices were mine, and I made them, and would make them again." Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest. "You don't give me enough credit for having my own mind."
"I took that from you. There was little you could have done to oppose me, you know." Obi-Wan grinned, and the last vestiges of power manifested in that knowing smile.
"There were options. I chose...other ways. And the Force intervened before I could have made good on any plans I might have drawn for escape." Qui-Gon nodded his head. "Good night."
Obi-Wan nodded in return as Qui-Gon made his way toward his cramped quarters, the same cabin assigned to another of his former slaves, Daro. He directed his gaze back toward the starfield, but his attention remained in the room as footsteps approached, and two others from his ragtag crew entered the room.
"The pilot says we are on course for Yavin and will arrive in twenty standard hours. The landing system will be operational by that time. The captain is confident they will be able to make the required repairs."
Without turning, Obi-Wan bowed his head. The sound of Xan's voice was like a beautiful, agonizing tear through his heart. "You should rest. Things will...things must be different, once we have arrived at our destination."
Xanatos did not answer, and finally, Obi-Wan turned. His lover stood still in the dimness, watching him. The slave bracelet Obi-Wan had put in place remained on Xan's upper arm, and Obi-Wan stared at it for a moment, remembering the day he had marked the man as his property. His heart grieved quietly, turning harder by degrees. Xanatos met his eyes without a word, then turned and left the room, brushing past Valorum.
Obi-Wan turned back to the window. "Your duties are at an end, Valorum. There doesn't appear to be much left for you to do."
"I am where I wish to be, Obi-Wan. I serve you, as I have served you before, and will continue to do so as long as I am needed."
"Little did you know when you took this assignment how things would change for us all."
"I have seen nothing that would alter my opinion of the situation."
Obi-Wan smiled. "How is Mathius?"
"He sleeps. The Jedi..."Valorum hesitated, as if realizing that word had lost its significance, and could no longer point to Qui-Gon Jinn alone. "Jinn has seen to him since we came aboard ship. He will manage his grief; he is strong."
"That's good news." Obi-Wan looked at the stars, and his mind wandered away into the vastness beyond their tiny ship. They were free, finally. Free of deception, free of enslavement, free of obligations to those they had never wanted to serve.
But freedom was a fluke, a change in the design of his ordered, pre-destined life. He had made madness into sanity, changed lives forever, enslaved good men, tasted power and enjoyed it. There would be a price to pay.
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