"I suppose not," he said with a half-smile.

I stood there, still a bit groggy, as he moved around me and sat down in a chair. "What are we going to do today?"

The Master looked up at me with that pensive, studious expression I could always recognize. "I had no plans. But...considering what we spoke of yesterday, I think I ought to teach you to meditate in the Force. It may help your sense grow stronger."

I shook my head slowly. "Honestly, Qui-Gon, it doesn't matter to me if I ever move objects or levitate rocks or anything. I don't even care if I can do mind tricks. I can only sense you and Obi-Wan, so it's not like my Force-sensitivity is ever going to matter."

The expression on his face deepened. "Sensing us doesn't matter?"

"No, no...I didn't mean it that way..." I sighed heavily. Foot in mouth. "It matters a lot to me. But in the grand scheme of the Force, and Jedi skills, it doesn't amount to much. I'll be able to have a little advantage, quicker reflexes, but that's all."

"And how do you know?" Qui-Gon challenged wisely. "How do any of us know? This is a strange situation. Nothing says that if you work at it, and give it time, you can't do greater things."

"But I'm saying I don't care if I do greater things. I'm content with what I have."

He smiled. "I sense that you are. Every small growth in your sensitivity to the Force is a great leap for you, and you're taking none of it for granted. That is good. But," he added, standing swiftly and dropping his robe from his shoulders, "I believe it would be wise if you learned this. It may help you in other ways."

I sighed again. There was just no arguing with the Master. He strode to a clear space near the windows and knelt down facing them, so that the mid-morning sun fell on his face. I wandered after him, cautiously approaching and kneeling at his side. "No, face me," he corrected. I moved to obey, trying not to grumble. Now I knew what his Padawan felt like. "Close your eyes, and listen carefully to what I say," Qui-Gon instructed, lowering his voice to a gentle murmur. "Empty your mind of thought, and concentrate on me, on the Force which guides me. When you think you have found it, tell me what you feel."

Taking a deep breath, I shoved all thoughts and reactions out of my overactive mind and drifted into the closest thing to emptiness I could manage. For a long time I sensed nothing, could grasp nothing. The silence between us grew tense, enhanced by the fact that I could hear the Master's timed breathing close in front of me. Eventually, a spark of the magnificent energy wound its way into my conscious, and I relaxed my whole body and mind until the spark grew warmer, filling me with liquid fire. "I have it," I breathed, the words barely tumbling off my lips. "It feels like it's all around me, wrapping me up like a blanket. It's energy, but it's not physical. It's...somewhere else..."

"That is the Force," Qui-Gon's rich voice intoned, shrouded by the haze of the Force's energy which enveloped my perceptions. "Open yourself to it. Surrender to it."

Surrender? I tensed, unsure how to go about doing that, but visualized a door opening in my mind. The Force came spilling through in a flood and overwhelmed me, first taking over my senses so that I could hear and feel nothing, then sharpening them all so that I could use each without the confines of my body's limitations. My eyes were closed, but I could see - the room, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan as he came in and knelt beside his Master - I could hear hearts beating, the lake lapping at the shore some distance away, and a strange, subtle sound as if a musical note had been struck somewhere and left to reverberate for eternity. There was a sensation as of touching, intertwining, stretching from Qui-Gon to me and back, and then looping toward Obi-Wan. Was that the bond between us? My head felt like it was trapped in a box, and that the entire universe was there in the box with me. Life surged around us, feeding into the Force and drawing back from it. I never felt so alive. And the whispers!

They weren't quite sounds, but soft, tenuous sensations, like brushing against spider webs. I had to hold myself extremely still to catch them, confused at first, but then I stopped listening for words and opened myself further to let them tumble in at will. I received impressions, direct sensory input that spoke so clearly of answers to questions I had never had the courage to ask. I knew that I was not alone, that there was a purpose to my being in this exact place and time. I was given a teasing hint of the power that could be mine with the Force, but rather than grab it, I let it go, watched it whisper off my fingertips into oblivion. I sank into the embrace of lightweight energy and toyed with it a little, looking cautiously into the unshielded souls of my companions who meditated alongside me. I could not press far, for they were both greatly skilled in guarding things inside their minds which should not be stolen with the Force, but I was able to glimpse visions of whatever they were meditating on. Qui-Gon's state of mind was impossible to grasp, he had the Force pulled tightly around him, but he allowed me to see that he was still thinking about my existence, my purpose for being brought to their galaxy. His curiosity and interest could be clearly sensed. The intertwining ribbon of the Force binding us lay before me, a loose string that tempted me to pluck it, so I touched it and had it flare up like lightning in my inner sense, pulling me magnetically closer to the two presences on the other ends. Reassurance flowed to me from one end - Qui-Gon, I suspected - and acknowledgement came from the other end much the same as it had by the forest stream. Astonished, I started to lose my hold on the whole thing, and wavered slowly back to consciousness.

My eyes opened slowly, and a deep breath surged into my lungs. As I shifted my stance to relieve the pressure on my knees, I noticed that my muscles were slack and rested, but not lethargic. I was startled to find out I had not actually moved closer to Qui-Gon, because the magnetic pull of the Force had led me to think we were all physically drawn together somehow. "There," Master Qui-Gon murmured, drawing my attention back to him. "Your first try at meditating in the Force. How was it?"

"Unlike anything I've ever done or felt in my life," I whispered in awe. "I had some trouble getting started, though."

"I noticed. It was I who actually called the Force and sent it toward you, so that you could grasp it." Qui-Gon gazed thoughtfully at me, seeming to take note of that fact. "But whatever else you experienced, that was all your doing, and the Force's doing. It was but the beginning."

"Beginning?" I repeated, almost incredulously.

"Usually, meditation takes a direction," he clarified, his voice still quiet and unruffled, an exquisite expression of peace on his face. "Questions you ask that need answers. Emotions which trouble you that need to be released. Solutions to problems you have only begun to face." He smiled, then, a distant smile, and sat back on his heels with his hands resting on one knee. "And sometimes, all you need is a moment to gather yourself, your strength, in order to continue on."

I lowered my eyes away from his. I knew of such an example. "I could see things," I tried to tell him, "and hear them, without using my normal senses..."

"Yes," Qui-Gon acknowledged, nodding. "A corner of your mind was alert at all times, and the Force used it to show you what you were unable to see or hear for yourself. It is a Jedi's most valuable tool. You should at least work to improve that sense, because it can save you. In more ways than one." He gracefully rose to his feet, and extended a hand to help me up.

Obi-Wan, who had been kneeling silently beside his Master, listening, stood after us and raised his arms over his head, stretching. We all moved away from the sunny windows, toward the chairs in the center of the sitting room, before anyone spoke. "Are you in the mood for more sparring?" the Master wondered of me with a sly glance over his shoulder.

"Oh...uh, not really," I replied, rubbing my shoulder. "I'm still sore from yesterday."

"If there were healers around, I would suggest a massage," Obi-Wan said lightly, smirking a little.

"That sounds really good right about now," I mused. "I'll be all right. Maybe when we get back." I turned to Qui-Gon with a slight frown. "When are we going back, anyway?"

The Master's brows lifted slightly. "When we are finished," he said simply, as if it were only obvious. "I'm not finished yet. Are you?" I smiled sheepishly. "You see? Not yet. Are you anxious to get away from here?"

"No. In fact, I wish this retreat could last forever - though I know it won't. It'll be back to the usual thing sooner or later."

"Yes. But I don't want to go on another mission before we've settled the issues surrounding your Force sense," Qui-Gon said. "You were not meant for a Jedi's lifestyle, and I don't want to place you in harm's way. Yet, there is a reasonable expectation that you will be among us indefinitely - until the Force decides you have completed your purpose and sends you back. If it ever does. We can only wait and see what happens."

I stood there, thinking about that for a moment, and frowned more deeply. "I hope it never does," I murmured under my breath, truly meaning it. "I'll be right back...it's about time I got dressed."

As I headed for my room, I felt their eyes follow me, a potent feeling with the Force imbuing everything with an extra dimension. I knew I was changing the subject or avoiding discussion every time the future came up in conversation, but I also knew that before long I would be forced to face it. I would put it off as long as I could, hoping to never have to worry about it. Wishful thinking, of course, but at this point I preferred living in denial to leaving my thoughts and emotions open for two Jedi to pick at will.

In that morning's sparring session, rather than focus on me, Qui-Gon focused on his Padawan's advanced skill training instead. This time I decided that watching would be the ideal thing to do, and so sat on the sill of an open window with my writing pad, basking in the warm, light breeze off the lake. Obi-Wan sparred with his Master and showed off his understanding of the eight basic ways a death blow could be dealt to an opponent - and then some. I tried not to pay very detailed attention to this lesson, but smiled inwardly when I overheard him point out a move of Qui-Gon's which exposed his body to a certain type of strike. "Why, I could slice you in half right there," the apprentice noted, and I looked up from my writing pad to see him wave his ignited saber toward Qui-Gon's flank. The sight made me grin evilly. Yes, you had better practice that move, Obi-Wan, I said to myself. You're going to need it. Fortunately, neither Jedi was paying attention to me at the moment, and so did not pick up on my grim observation.

It was a pleasure to watch the two of them in motion, their robes cast off on the floor, sweat beaded on their foreheads. I flipped a page in the writing pad and started sketching them as they moved, trying to capture them as fast as they whirled and jostled and whisked past me. My pen-strokes swiftly described the arch of Obi-Wan's lithe body, Qui-Gon's firm, assured stance, the way the tabards of their outfits floated through the air when they spun. I filled a couple of pages with quickly-etched figures before settling down to work on one in particular, of the two Jedi facing one another, poised, neither striking, eyes alive, stances tense. I made sure to capture the breathless smile on Obi-Wan's face and the kind but studious look of his Master, to ensure that it was not a portrait of betrayal but of exercise. After a time, I noticed that the sabers had been powered down, and looked up to find Qui-Gon wandering my way. "What are you working on?"

I looked past him to see that Obi-Wan was picking up his robe. Practice was over. "Just...a drawing," I replied.

The Jedi Master's eyes were bright with curiosity. "May I see it?"

Reluctantly, I turned the page toward him. In the middle of a flurry of hastily-sketched sparring figures was the half-finished work. He studied it in silence. "An artist, too?" he wondered at last, lifting his eyes to my face. "There is much we don't know about you."

I pulled back the pad and hugged it to my chest. "You just have to ask. I don't draw a lot anymore...I'm not often inspired."

"Well, then. I'm glad we could inspire you." Qui-Gon held out a hand, helping me off the window sill, and followed me as all three of us went back across the temple to our quarters. I certainly was inspired by being around these two Jedi, but held tightly to my thoughts as to just why and how. They didn't need me swooning over them now. I put away my writing pad and prepared to follow them wherever they would go this afternoon, especially since Obi-Wan was making noise about the haridi. Even after the party, he was ready for more fun. It didn't matter to me, I was flexible, and soon found myself walking with two tall Jedi down to Kalinda.

*****

The sun set rapidly on Chad, and the colors which played across the sky were most unlike those of Earth sunsets, more purple and blue than red, vividly smeared across the darkening heavens. I sat in a comfortable chair near the windows watching night descend, tired out from a long afternoon in Kalinda. The carnival atmosphere was exhausting, and it seemed to be getting worse with each passing day - louder, faster, and less sober. Our visit this afternoon was short, and after Obi-Wan and I briefly lost track of Qui-Gon in the crowd, we decided maybe staying in the Jedi retreat center and working on learning things wasn't so bad. We found something to eat and then came back, wanting to rest and relax and not listen to any more Chadra-Fan chatter. I closed my eyes and fell into a distant, day-dreamy state, but my other senses were alert enough to notice someone step close to me. "Yes?"

"You're not asleep, then," Qui-Gon's voice murmured. I opened my eyes and smiled up at him. He smiled back. "I'm not bothering you, am I?"

"You're never a bother," I assured, sitting up and dropping my hands into my lap. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I simply came to see how you were doing." He perched himself on the edge of the chair beside me, calmly clasping his hands and fixing me with a gentle smile. "It was rather busy down there at the haridi."

"Yeah, too busy even for my tastes," I admitted, "and I'm usually the gregarious type. We lost you for a bit, there. Where did you run off to?"

Qui-Gon looked down, at his folded hands. "I was...looking at something."

"Oh? What was it?" He still did not look at me, which I found odd. "What?"

A calm smile awoke on his face, and he finally glanced up after a brief silence. "I got you something."

"Really?" I grinned in delight as he got up and went to his room to retrieve something. He came back quickly and stood before me, working his hand out of his flowing robe sleeve. In his palm was a small, ornate box with a clasp keeping the lid closed. "For me? Master, you didn't need to get me anything."

"I hadn't planned to. But, I saw it, and it reminded me of you." I took the tiny box from his hand and turned it over, looking at the painted designs on its wooden surface. Qui-Gon smiled at me. "Go ahead. Open it."

I pinched the clasp and pried open the lid. Inside, lying on a velvety green cloth, was a very small, shiny whistle. Its shape was suggestive of a pennywhistle, but smaller, made for Chadra-Fan musicians. I stared at it, stunned and enchanted. "What...what made you think of this?" I wondered as I picked it up and studied it.

"You seemed to have such a good time last night, you enjoyed the music," the Master offered in explanation, clasping his hands together before him. "Perhaps in the future, you will look at it and remember this time. Or," he added with a twinkle in his gray eyes, "perhaps you could learn to play it."

"Ohh no...not me," I chuckled. "I play guitar, that's hard enough." I replaced the whistle and sat there looking at it for a while, amazed that the reserved Jedi Master had gotten me a gift - unbidden, unexpected, undeserved. It quieted my voice as I told him, "Thank you. It's beautiful. I...can't believe you got this for me."

"Why does it surprise you so?"

"Well...it's not like it's my birthday or anything," I tried to explain.

Qui-Gon moved to sit down on the edge of the chair again. "Are birthdays the only time people on your world give each other gifts?"

"No, no...it's not that. It's just..." I found myself inexplicably blushing. "I didn't expect it. It's nice, I...thank you. It means a lot to me." I closed the lid and rested my hand on the box, reflecting on it for a moment. I still couldn't believe it. "You've given me so much already," I murmured, "you didn't need to get this. But you did."

"It is always my pleasure to give a gift to a friend in appreciation of their presence in my life. Birthdays or not," Master Qui-Gon assured. "You do mark the passing of years with a celebration, then? And gifts?"

"Yeah," I answered, lifting my head and looking at him. His kind smile made me wish I had a picture of it to treasure forever. "Mine is coming up soon. Or, well...was. A few months."

"How old will you be? If I may ask..."

"Twenty-five."

"Ah. I was right, you're not much older than Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon noted with a nod toward the room where his apprentice was currently up to something. I had no idea what. "Here, different cultures do different things. The Jedi do not celebrate, necessarily, but we do remember. Birthdays pass quietly, except for the thirteenth. The coming of age." I grinned, thinking of Obi-Wan's rock. "But, if you wish, we can mark your birthday with gifts, if we can figure out approximately when it will be. I don't know how your years compare to galactic Standard years."

"I think, if I remember correctly, they're about the same," I started to say, remembering things I had read, but noticed a shift in the degree of the Master's smile. It was starting to fade, and he shifted his glance down toward the floor. Something was wrong. "Master Qui-Gon?"

"If you remain here, so many things you are accustomed to will no longer exist," he said quietly, almost sadly, his penetrating gaze returning to my face. "And you will not have the opportunity to share things like birthdays with your family and friends, as it should be. Your future will be very different."

He had a point, and as I thought about it, about my family, my life, I began to sober much as he did. "I do miss my family," I confessed. "Even though I didn't get to see them often. The thought of never seeing them again ever, I..." I swallowed hard. Qui-Gon's hand moved silently over and rested on top of mine, which was still on top of the gift box. "I'll be all right," I assured. "I'm here for a reason. I have to just trust that the Force knows what it was doing when it brought me here."

"Yes," Qui-Gon breathed, his voice nothing more than a troubled whisper. "We must be patient. I promise I will do all I can to help you, and not leave you alone. No matter what happens...no matter what the future holds."

The future. The words left him and struck their usual cold pang of fear in my heart. No matter how hard I tried, I could not escape the instinctive terror that accompanied any recollection of the future events in store for him, for the Jedi, for the whole galaxy. Before I could clear the thought from my mind and deftly change the subject yet again, Qui-Gon pounced on the feeling he no doubt sensed. "Why is it you feel scared every time the future is spoken of?"

"Scared?" I tried to deflect his suspicion by stalling. "It's not that I'm scared, really. Not about the future."

"Then what causes you such fear? Don't deny it," he said softly, delicately. "I can sense it. It will do no good to say you don't feel fear when I know you do."

"Qui-Gon, please," I pleaded. "I already told you, I don't think it's right for me to tell you anything about the future. Regardless of whether you can change it. It's just...not right." A lame argument, I knew, but it was all I had. I sighed hard. "I guess I'm just worried that you're going to eventually force me to tell you, and I don't want to be responsible for whatever happens."

Qui-Gon's hand alighted on my shoulder and caressed lightly. "Stacey...I would never force you to do anything. Not even this. You need to trust me."

"I do," I quickly assured him. "But it's got to just bug you that I'm sitting here, with all this information, and refusing to give out any of it."

He shook his head slowly, his long hair drifting elegantly off his shoulders and swinging side to side. "The only time it bothered me was..." He looked away for only a moment. "...when you mentioned the Sith. But apart from that, it does not bother me at all. I do not care to know anything about the future, even as regards myself. Having the ability to know does not mean I desire to make use of that opportunity." His hand withdrew, and he clasped his hands before him as he leaned forward in the chair. "I can see that it bothers you. Is it the issue of whether or not it's right that you tell me, or is it the future events themselves?" he asked concernedly.

I looked completely away from him, not wanting to answer. Maybe if he thought it was the ethical dilemma that bothered me, he wouldn't feel the need to persist in wondering. "Just...you don't understand how hard it is," I said quietly. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for ruining your life. Knowing what's going to happen would...I don't know. I feel it would destroy everything about you that makes you who you are. If that makes any sense," I added sheepishly. Qui-Gon nodded kindly. "You wouldn't feel free to make your own decisions, you'd be second-guessing yourself every day for the rest of your life. You'd never know if something you did was motivated by your own ideals and needs, or by the knowledge of some future thing that demands you obey it no matter what. I won't do that to you," I concluded forcefully, staring hard at him. "Not even if I thought some good could come out of it."

Master Qui-Gon nodded slowly, absorbing my worried explanation, but before he could respond to it Obi-Wan came out of his room, striding breezily over to us. "Master, Stacey. What shall we do with our evening?"

I glanced up at him and forced a smile, hiding the tiny box containing the whistle in my hands. For some reason, I didn't want him to see it. "Can't you be content with just sitting around and talking?"

"Of course I can," the apprentice replied smoothly with a bit of smugness in his decadent voice, "if that is what you wish."

"I do believe that is it," Qui-Gon said with a small chuckle, leaning back in his chair. There was a third seat nearby, and Obi-Wan pushed it closer before taking a seat and relaxing fully. I smiled at him, but inwardly, could not shake the heavy feeling that had come over me as a result of Master Qui-Gon's insistent questioning. I got up long enough to put the gift box away in my room before settling down to an uneventful evening of chatting.

Nothing could cheer my somber mood all night, though Obi-Wan seemed not to notice it at all, or perhaps he chalked it up to the fact we occasionally discussed a home I had no hope of seeing ever again. He was content to share stories of his life training under Qui-Gon, especially the humorous ones, his delightful smile warming up several degrees every time he got me to grin. Even then, with a smirk on my lips and sincere interest in my heart, inside I was upset. It was usually easy to shove aside my darker thoughts and the accompanying emotions, but this time, this night, even in the company of my good friends and their laughter, the feelings would not go away. I knew perfectly well what the problem was: I ached to tell Qui-Gon that the reason I refused to tell him about his future was because I cared so much for him. My feelings for him were the true source of my anguish. Admitting that, however, would open up many more wounds than it would heal, and I intuitively knew that if I did so, we would not stop until I had come right out and told him the circumstances of his death, and that was something that must not happen. He could never, ever know what those events were which struck terror into me. Fortunately, neither of them called attention to my feelings, ignoring my subdued manner as if it truly did not exist. I merely let the two of them talk themselves out, listening willingly, until an opportunity for solitude presented itself.

It was getting late, and Obi-Wan was trying to stifle yawns while he continued to dish out dirt on his Master and defend himself against Qui-Gon's clever retorts. Still, none of us really wanted to go to bed. The Padawan excused himself to use the refresher, and in the tense silence that followed his departure, Qui-Gon announced a decision to go to the kitchen and bring back something for us to drink. "Some warm spiced milk, perhaps," he suggested as he got up. "I will be back shortly."

I nodded at him, and sat there staring at the floor in front of me as he left the room. Obi-Wan was taking his time, and as the minutes stretched silently on, I felt the urge to be somewhere else grow stronger. Taking care not to even rustle my clothing, I got up from the soft chair and padded noiselessly out of quarters, heading for the empty main hall of the temple.

The rains had ended and dim light faintly illuminated the great hall from outside. I went over and stood at the windows gazing absently at the night, where the darkness was cut through with the pearly light of multiple moons, turning the sky indigo and the shadows a milky mixture of blacks, blues, and grays. The transparisteel panels were open to let in the cool night air, which flowed off the lake and through the trees in the form of a whispering breeze. Unfamiliar insects filled the night with chirping and humming. I thought I was alone, free to let my thoughts wander and my troubled emotions to stew, but a voice behind me betrayed the entrance of another. Deep and rich, flavored with a slight accent, it wondered, "Is anything wrong?"

I didn't turn to look at him, unsure if I wanted him to see my face. I couldn't keep my heart from clenching itself into a painful fist in my chest. "It's nothing," I managed to say, quietly under my breath in case I didn't want him to hear.

Qui-Gon hesitated briefly in the doorway, wondering. I could hear the soft swish as his robe gathered around his feet. "You're troubled," he correctly observed. "Is there anything I can do?"

"I doubt it," I sadly chuckled. He started towards me again, this time not stopping until he had reached my side. I stood with my arms folded over my chest, and kept my gaze on the open window as his imposing figure intruded on my contemplation.

"Come, now," he quietly encouraged, deliberately facing me so that I would have to look away in order to avoid him. "I don't mean to take advantage of it, but I sense a conflict with you. It's been with you all night. I want to help you if I can."

I looked up at him and shook my head. "Trust me, Qui-Gon, nothing you do is going to help. You don't understand."

"Of course not, not unless you tell me what's wrong," the Jedi Master pointed out kindly. His hand rested comfortably on my shoulder, his thumb caressing, and I wondered if he could sense my reaction to it. "I won't force you, though."

The warm pressure of his hand was enough to weaken my stubborn resistance. I turned a little towards him, lowing my eyes humbly. "I don't know what to tell you," I began sheepishly. "I can't tell you, it goes back to what we were saying about the future."

"Is that what's troubling you so?" Qui-Gon wondered curiously. "That I asked? I apologize -"

"No, it's not that. It's...the future things I can't tell you. I can't say any more than that," I added morosely.

"But there must be more," he said gently, his questioning eyes more probing than his command of the Force had ever been. "Some reason you're so concerned about what I think. We are friends, yes, but...anyone else would not take my feelings into account when considering this dilemma..."

I knew exactly what he was working towards, but with the furor of the earlier conversation still fresh in my mind, it was impossible for me to steer us away from the subject. I tried to answer as ambiguously as I could. "It's like I said once before...some things have to be said, but I don't have the words. I wouldn't know..."

The hand lifted from my shoulder and combed very gently through my hair, interrupting me completely as I could notice nothing but that simple movement. "I was right, wasn't I?" Qui-Gon said. "You are attracted to me."

I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, wincing at the sound of the truth on his lips. I suddenly wanted to cry. After a long silence, I worked a word to the surface. "Well..."

He stood there for a long time saying nothing, doing nothing, but staring down at me with mingled question and sympathy. I finally found more words, and they came all in a rush. "I know it's not my place. Nothing's ever going to happen. I know that. Nothing could happen between us. It's not important to me, though. You've become such a good friend, I would hate to try to force anything else out of it. I'm so embarrassed," I added breathlessly, with a whimper I couldn't catch before it slipped out.

"Don't be." The Master did not look disturbed, but rather sad. His hand returned to my shoulder, and drew me closer to him. "I'm quite flattered, actually. A man my age doesn't turn many heads, whether he cares about that or not."

"Master, you'd be surprised," I said, letting a hint of a smile return. "Where I come from, you've turned many heads." I sighed. "You're not upset?"

"How can I be? They're your feelings. But it's not right for you to get so upset over me, I'm not worth it. You are a fine young woman, and you deserve more."

Every ounce of me wanted to protest, but his eyes were so kind and his face so sincere, I could say nothing. The emotions I had been brooding over all night broke through, then, and I could not stop the tears which stung my eyes. Ashamed, I turned swiftly away from Qui-Gon, wanted to run out of the room, but his hand came down on my shoulder again, restraining me. "Please," I begged, "don't..."

For a moment he held me still, now with both hands on my shoulders, a restraint I was willing to accept even though it stung my heart and made the tears come quicker. His strong arms suddenly circled around my shoulders, dragging the folds of the dark brown robe with them until the garment was wrapped around me, and I found myself held tight against his trim, masculine body, wrapped in his robe. I felt his breath briefly on my neck, then the pressure of his chin resting on the top of my head. His strong arms closed around me in a warm embrace which effectively halted the tears from falling. I leaned my head against his chest - which is exactly where it fell, he was that much taller than me - and savored the moment while it lasted, afraid he would let go at any moment. My heart was screaming with the eerie pain of excitement, a sensation that spread all the way down my body. His arms tightened their embrace and he leaned down to speak softly in my ear. "Is this what you wanted?"

"You knew..." I whispered into the air.

"I had a feeling." Master Qui-Gon did not push me away, though. Rather, he bowed his head over me and gently kissed the top of my head. "I suspected it, but I refused to look into your thoughts, I thought it best to wait until you could find the courage to tell me. As I said, I'm flattered," he went on, his resonant voice right beside my ear. "However, I...I can't promise anything."

"I don't expect you to," I said immediately, sighing deeply to control my composure. To be elated and depressed at the same time was mentally draining. "I won't fool myself. It's a miracle I'm even here, I can't take a moment of this life for granted. I value your friendship too much."

"Mmm," was all he could say, and all either of us said for a long time, as we stood there by the windows with Qui-Gon snuggling me in his robe and his arms. I could feel his steady heartbeat, the expansion of his broad chest as he breathed. I was enfolded by his scent, stronger and more delicious than the hint clinging to his robe. His arms rested comfortably just below my throat, wrapped completely around me, holding me tightly to him as if there were no other options. I closed my eyes and quieted my raging mind just enough to feel the tingling power of the Force surrounding us, and sensed the gentle prodding of Qui-Gon's mind reaching out to me. In this state, I had no way of keeping my guard up, and so let go completely, opening my mind as far as it would go so he could read anything in me. I had no qualms about him finding out anything anymore, he already knew the hardest thing I had tried to conceal, and this was a much better reaction than I had hoped for. I seemed to have forgotten for the moment about his future, for he never discovered its grim image, only my impressions of the moment and everything that had happened to me to bring us to this point. In turn, I received faint impressions of his emotions, treated to glimpses of his reaction to whatever he found in my head. Gratitude, embarrassment, amusement, joy, but also sadness, reluctance, and the sting of a regret so old it probably had been buried a long time. I dared not question him about any of them, I simply relaxed and let him uncover everything through the Force.

At last, he murmured, "You are a complicated woman, Stacey."

"What did you find?" I asked, though I probably didn't want to hear the answer.

"Many interesting things," Qui-Gon replied enigmatically. "I'm glad I could ease some of your hurt by this simple gesture. I still find it fascinating, though, that others also have this attraction toward me. No logic can explain that."

"I wish I could," I said with a smile, "but I just go with it. Emotions like these don't really operate reasonably."

"Well I know, well I know," he agreed, nodding. He lowered his head again, whispering confidentially in my ear. His beard tickled my neck. "I also find it very interesting that you both want more from me, and don't. Your heart is racing, but at the same time, I feel hesitation."

Is it any wonder, the way you're encouraging my feelings? I wanted to ask, but didn't. He probably heard my thought, anyway. I didn't understand what he meant, so I mentioned, "I don't understand."

The Force sang around me, and then the Master said, "Part of you wants something to happen. A kiss, perhaps? Something else? But part of you resists that line of thinking." His arms tightened around me, and I could have hurt him for teasing me, now that he knew of my feelings. "Why is that?"

I still had no idea, but I could speculate. "Well...I've only been kissed once in my life. I'm still a virgin, so..." Then, it hit me. "My beliefs require that I stay that way until I get married. No matter what I may think about you, I wouldn't be able to follow through with it."

Qui-Gon sighed gently. "Your conviction is admirable. To be willing to obey your beliefs rather than compromise them for something you want very much...that's an honorable trait. Devotion worthy of a Jedi."

"The temptation is strong, though," I murmured.

"Would it be easier if I went away so I didn't tempt you?"

"No," I quickly answered, afraid. "Please - don't stop, unless you think you ought to."

Master Qui-Gon chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying this exchange on a level I didn't understand. "What I choose to do is not for you to dictate. I will do my best not to tempt you, but at the same time, I will be mindful of the deeper feelings you've allowed me to see. It's the least I can do. You've given me something precious, something I never would have expected. I will treasure it."

A curious admission, but I decided not to ask him what he meant by it. I just settled into his embrace and gazed out the window at the blue-black night, enraptured by the moment and the riot of sensations surrounding me - sight, sound, scent, touch, and Force. The latter stirred, announcing that another person had entered the room - and there was only one other whom I could sense in all this galaxy. As if in confirmation, Obi-Wan's voice came to us from the doorway. "Master...what's going on?"

Both Qui-Gon and I turned to regard the young man, who stood just inside the hall with his hands at his sides, a hard, questioning look on his handsome face. The Force quivered with his emotion, which I could barely sense, but the Master certainly could. "Nothing," he replied simply. "Is something wrong, Obi-Wan?"

"I just...wondered where everyone was. I apologize for intruding." Obi-Wan turned on his heel and stalked out, his robe floating behind him, leaving us with a lingering sense of his unsettled emotions.

Qui-Gon sighed deeply and withdrew his embrace. "Something is wrong," he noticed. "I must speak to him."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Go ahead." He strode quickly out, hoping to catch his apprentice before he had gone too far. I was content to stay where I was, but a nagging curiosity made me step toward the doorway, torn between wanting to overhear the ensuing conversation and knowing it was rude and subversive. Then again, they did it to me all the time by using the Force to see through me, so I figured a little payback was called for in this case.

The voices were right outside the door, just around the corner in the adjoining corridor, low and secretive. "Tell me what is wrong," Qui-Gon gently implored.

"It's nothing," Obi-Wan insisted, forcing himself to be quiet. "Just a momentary lack of discernment. I will get past it."

"That's not what I felt." Qui-Gon's voice was smooth and fatherly, not scolding in the least. "I was struck by a sense of jealousy, Obi-Wan. Was that your reaction to seeing what you did when you entered?"

A long sigh whispered from the apprentice. "It was my...initial reaction, Master."

"Then why do I still feel it?" Silence. "Who is it you are jealous of, me or Stacey?"

A disturbed, "Master..." But the jest had its point, it forced Obi-Wan to admit his feelings, which could not be hidden from his Master anyway. "Of course it is you I am jealous of. I didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That you...and her..."

A brief silence ensued, and when I heard Qui-Gon speak again, I could hear the smile which he must have worn. "Obi-Wan, nothing is going on between us. I was comforting her, because she has admitted she has feelings for me. It was not an easy admission." He paused, and the smile disappeared from his voice. "Am I to conclude, then, that you have similar feelings for her?"

"I don't know what it is I feel," Obi-Wan answered honestly. "I was not aware how strong it was until I saw you with your arms around her..."

"It doesn't surprise me," Qui-Gon said in good humor. "You're a fine young man, she is a lovely young woman, you're nearly the same age...it pleased me to see you were getting along so well."

Obi-Wan sighed again. "But how right is that? A Jedi must put aside all distractions, and focus on his purpose."

"That doesn't mean a Jedi cannot have friends. Male or female." There was a pause, and a rustle, as if the Master had reached out to his Padawan. "I would be more disturbed if you did not make friends. A Jedi cannot be without companions, especially outside the Order. They make good allies, but also make this hard life a bit easier to bear."

"Yes, Master. But...this is not simply friendship."

"No, not if the moment of jealousy means anything," Qui-Gon said, more seriously. "You are relieved that nothing serious is happening between me and Stacey. What is it you want, Obi-Wan?"

For a long time there was no reply. I wondered if they had resorted to telepathy. But then, the apprentice spoke in a guarded hush. "I don't know."

"Tell me."

"What is the Jedi code's position on...romantic relationships, anyway?"

"Don't be concerned about that right now. Just tell me what it is you feel, what you wish to happen."

I thought of leaving, knowing they would probably both be mortified to know I had overheard this, but a sadistic curiosity kept me rooted to the spot, clearing my mind of reaction so neither would sense my presence. Obi-Wan's voice was no more than a whisper. "I enjoy being with her, we have fun together. I want...I want to touch her, to feel what it's like to kiss her. I want to hold her like I saw you holding her."

I had to leave the doorway or they would have known I was there. I rushed across the hall and around one of the huge pillars, pressing my hands over my mouth to suppress an astonished squeal as I leaned against its massive column. That was certainly unexpected! As I stood there, I realized I could still hear them speaking. Qui-Gon had taken time to absorb the information before reacting, and I could faintly hear him say, "Perhaps you should tell her."

"I can't!" The rest of Obi-Wan's sentence was lost to me, but he was speaking rapidly with the excited rush of embarrassment. His Master responded with a comforting tone, and then there was a lasting silence. I thought they had left, but just as I was about to go and check, I heard Obi-Wan mutter, "What do you think I should do?"

Qui-Gon hesitated. "I will neither encourage nor discourage you," he answered, and I could hear him clearly despite his whispering. "From my own experiences, the life of a Jedi is not very compatible with a relationship with a woman, and can lead to grief and anger. More than once has infatuation led to the Dark Side. I could lecture you about it, and demand you suppress your emotions. I know the Council would certainly do that, for you are an apprentice yet and ought to make your duty your primary concern. But you would just go and try it anyway, my headstrong young Padawan." A note of amusement colored his voice. I could picture the knowing smiles on both their faces. "So, I will not tell you not to follow your feelings. Neither will I encourage you. I don't know what kind of outcome lies ahead, but you may learn a hard lesson in loss and heartbreak."

"A lesson no Jedi apprentice can avoid," Obi-Wan said wisely. "I have had my share already."

"I wonder if you have." Qui-Gon lowered his voice, and the rest of his comments were too quiet to hear, as were Obi-Wan's reactions. I turned my attention away, wrapping my arms around me and thinking back to the glorious feeling of being wrapped in the Master's embrace as I sank to the floor beside the pillar. Emotional roller-coaster ride notwithstanding, I could think of a thousand worse places to be than right here, right now.

I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't hear Qui-Gon's approach. He appeared suddenly beside me from around the pillar, making me start in surprise. "There you are," he noted, smiling very slightly. He looked unsettled - not that I could blame him, but it seemed a little odd nonetheless. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I said honestly, pushing myself to my feet. He reached out a hand and helped me. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Don't be sorry," the Master interrupted kindly. "Your feelings do not need apology. Though, I suspect you did not expect to have them revealed in this manner."

"No, not quite this way," I willingly admitted with an embarrassed glance up at him. "I kind of hoped to never have to reveal them."

"You would keep them to yourself forever?" He seemed astonished. I merely shrugged. He sighed, and when he resumed speaking, he changed the subject entirely. "It's late, we should get to bed and get some sleep. Perhaps time will bring us clearer perspective." His arm slipped gently over my shoulders as he led me out of the hall and back toward quarters, a platonic gesture to be sure. He added, along the way, "Will you be all right?"

"I think so," I whispered back. As we stepped into the main room of our quarters, his arm fell away just in time, for Obi-Wan was moving through the room dousing the lights. He smiled warmly at me as I entered, so calm that had I not overheard his desperate comments to his Master, I would not have suspected that anything was going on. "Going to bed?" I asked.

"Yes, I think so," he replied in that infuriating inscrutable manner typical of Jedi. "Master?"

"I...think I will meditate, before retiring," Qui-Gon said hesitantly, moving away from both of us. "Good night, both of you."

We both wished him a good night, and then each other, before scattering to our rooms. I had a feeling Master Qui-Gon's need for meditation had to do with me - how in the world was he supposed to deal with me now, knowing how I felt about him? Then again, he really didn't know much, just what he was able to discern by sensing my emotions, which he himself had once said were difficult to predict or even to grasp. The only words which passed between us spoke of an attraction, though my feelings ran much deeper. It wasn't just a crush, that much was clear to me, but now I would have to find the elusive words and make it clear to him as well.

But what of Obi-Wan? As I got ready for bed, I thought of the beautiful young man with the alert blue eyes and sighed sadly. It was true. I felt strongly about him, too. Was it possible to love two men at the same time? My momentary elation from secretively stumbling on their conversation fell crashing down into despair. This was not possible. I couldn't be so fortunate and damned at the same time. And poor Qui-Gon...having two unexpected confessions thrust upon him in the same night. No wonder he was meditating. I hoped, even as I curled up under the blankets and tried to put the whole situation out of my mind, that he could come to some clear conclusions with the Force's help, because I sure didn't have any.

*****

Nothing but small talk passed between us throughout the first part of the next day. From the moment I stepped out of my room and joined the Jedi in meditation - feeling incredibly awkward but able to lose myself for a while in the tingling abstract power of the Force - through more sparring, more exercise, and then lunch, not a word was spoken about the admission I had reluctantly made to Qui-Gon. Neither did Obi-Wan betray any effects of his own moment of weakness. All we did was ask each other how we were, and when each responded, "Fine," we left it at that. I wasn't sure what either of them were thinking or feeling, and any surreptitious peek I tried to take with the Force revealed nothing but calm, controlled minds focused on the present without stray feelings leaking into conscious awareness. Envious of their control, I diligently paid attention as Qui-Gon sought to teach me to use the Force in any way I could, including shielding my thoughts.

It was clear to me I would never achieve a Jedi's skill in maintaining peaceful control over my inner mind, but the Master's patient instruction helped me to relax and shed much of the fear and doubt plaguing me. What I thought was tension between us was just my overreaction, and once it fell away, I could clearly see that he held no hesitations about working with me or being around me. In fact, nothing had really changed between us. Once I realized that, I gratefully went about my business with a cheerful heart. It was extremely gratifying to find that "teaching me to use the Force" was a serious intent in Master Qui-Gon's mind, he was not doing it merely because I was there or because he felt a need to placate my curiosity.

Unfortunately, I learned very little that morning. I was able to stretch out and use the Force as a sixth sense, to tell me where things were, to see and hear things beyond the limit of my eyes and ears. But manipulating objects, telekenesis, anything in that vein I could not accomplish. I managed to keep myself from becoming frustrated, but I could see by the look on Qui-Gon's face that he was not satisfied with the way things were progressing. "I don't understand it," he muttered at one point, pacing around me while I heaved a calming sigh. "Your sense should be strong enough to do this. Yet, you cannot."

Obi-Wan stood off to one side, just watching, his eyes cool and keen. "I sense that she's trying her hardest, Master. She has an honest understanding of how to accomplish it, the Force is simply not obeying her."

Qui-Gon nodded distractedly to acknowledge his Padawan's observation. "The Force is not obeying her," he repeated, thinking. "The Force is always there, always around us, and anyone who is sensitive will be able to call on its power..."

"Does it have anything to do with the midi-chlorians?" I offered. "I still don't totally grasp how they affect the Force, or my sensitivity to it."

The Master ceased pacing and grew suddenly very still, his face stern with thought. I could feel whispers of the Force reaching around me, through me, into the very core of my being. It was an extremely intimate sensation, I almost felt like blushing. As it was, I clenched my jaw and tried not to shy away from him. "Perhaps that is it," he said at last, hushed. "They are unnatural to you, they may somehow still be disconnected in a sense. Part of you but also part of me." Qui-Gon turned to me, straightening up to his full height with a stare of wonder and bewilderment. "Perhaps you can only use the Force when it somehow affects or is related to one of us."

My eyebrows went up. So did Obi-Wan's. "Master?" he wondered.

Qui-Gon spoke rapidly as he explained. "She senses us. She used the Force to heal me, to physically move you, to view you from a distance. Her reflexes reacted to seeing you attack her. When we began to meditate yesterday, she was unable to begin until I reached out to her first, to help her along. Your sensitivity is increased," he went on, turning to face me, "whenever one of us is also tuned in to the Force. If we both close ourselves off and make no stir in the Force, you have a more difficult time. I have noticed it, all of it. Your Force-sense is dependent...upon us. Upon me." His triumphant look became less so, more disturbed. "And if that is true, I don't know how you will ever be able to make use of it should you be removed from our presence."

I tensed my jaw again, mustering the courage to face his troubled expression. "Master Qui-Gon, I already told you it doesn't matter. It's nice that I have some sense of the Force, and that I'm connected to you and Obi-Wan. But I never counted on being a Jedi. It doesn't bother me if I can't use it. Knowledge is enough for me."

Qui-Gon nodded. "And for me, though it will not be a very satisfactory answer to the Council's questions. Although," he added, and I saw a spark of humor rekindle in his gray eyes, "it will be a good excuse to prevent them from separating us."

I grinned at that, starting to think about the positive repercussions rather than the negative. Qui-Gon still wanted me around. I could use the Force to help him, and Obi-Wan. I understood that simply having me there to draw from augmented their abilities as well, as Obi-Wan had noticed while sparring on Rodia. "And who knows," the apprentice said, interrupting my line of thinking, "perhaps we can rely on that dependency to indirectly teach her to use the Force." He was smiling delightedly at me. "It could come in handy sometime in the future."

"I'll be your secret weapon," I joked. Both of them smiled, and I felt instantly better about our situation. For the time being I forgot completely about feelings and confessions and immersed myself in the pleasure of existing in the far-off galaxy where the Force was real and Jedi kept the peace. As long as I was here, I might as well enjoy it.

On to part 15

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