Hi everyone!  As always, I'm very grateful for your FB and I'm happy that you're enjoying the story!  Hopefully, it won't disappoint.  Congrats to those of you who figured out Revelc Cainam's name! ^_^

My Place is at Your Side

~ Part Nine: Twists of Fate ~

Obi-Wan:

What could I use from my dream to help me? I had had a timer in my hand, it had beeped zero just before the explosion. I didn't have a timer now… Could that mean there was still time? Time! What time had it been in my dream? What time had the clock shown, as it lay shattered on the floor? What time had it shown just after the explosion?

I wracked my memory, searching for the image. Twelve noon. It had been twelve noon. Twelve noon, and my Master had already been dead. What time was it now? Did I have time, or was it too late?

I looked back at the timepiece, and my heart clenched.

It was ll:50.

I only had ten minutes.

Spinning around, I started to jog out of the room and ran directly into the two Directors, who were calmly walking in. Both of them were totally startled and knocked back a few paces, but quickly recovered to fix me with un-amused, questioning stares.

"Directors," I purposefully did not hide the urgency from my voice, "there is a bomb in the hotel across the street. It's going to go off in ten minutes, you need to have the building evacuated now."

Without giving them a chance to answer, I skirted around them and quickened my pace to a brisk walk. I needed to get to the hotel and make sure that everyone was evacuated, especially Qui-Gon and the doctor. However…there was something else. In my dream, I had had the timer. The timer to the bomb. I didn't have it now, so how had I gotten it?

We found the timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms The voice came back to me in a flash of memory. This vision had been less clear – merely a confused wash of distorted images – but that same thing had been said throughout the whole thing.

I abruptly came to a stop and swirled, "Also, have a security team search Revelc Cainam's rooms for the timer. When the find it, have them bring it to me, I'll be at the hotel…"

Director Macormick interrupted me in a tone of voice that bordered on amused impatience, "Padawan Kenobi, as we were coming in here to tell you, we found this timer in Revelc Cainam's rooms," he stepped forward and handed me the small device, "and, in case you were wondering, he was not at his home."

Taking the timer, I muttered a hasty 'thank you', and ran from the room. As I was sidestepping startled people and hastily plowing my way into the turbo descenders, I risked a quick glance down at the angry red numbers of the timer, and saw that I had a little less than nine minutes left.

Once in the turbo, I had to forcefully stop myself from pacing back and forth in the small, confining area. Instead, I examined the timer, turning it over in my hands to see if there was anything suspicious. It was then that I noticed the small piece of paper that had been folded up and attached to it.

Yanking the note off, I opened it to see what it said. As I read the haunting words, I heard Revelc Cainam's voice repeating them in my head, bringing back more flashes of memory from my dream.

Jedi are bound by their traditions and their rules. A Jedi may not feel fear, a Jedi may not feel hatred, a Jedi may not even feel love. You so called 'Guardians of Peace' are trapped in a life of loneliness and now I will put your Master out of his misery forever.

In my dream, the voice – his voice – had said that to me just after the explosion. Revelc Cainam had wanted me to find this timer, and the note, when it was already too late to save Qui-Gon. He had wanted me to know, seconds before my Master's death, that he had outsmarted me. But I had it early, maybe early enough to save him.

The turbo stopped moving and I squeezed through the doors as they opened, rushing through the lobby, desperate to get to the hotel and make sure Qui-Gon was safe.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Doctor!" I yelled out ahead of me as I was rounding the corner into our hotel room.

"Padawan Kenobi," he answered me when I entered, his words ringing with strained unease, "What is this about evacuating the hotel?"

I stopped in the doorway to Qui-Gon's room, pausing momentarily to regain my breath before shooting a glance around. My Master, with at least ten different tubes running from him to the machine, was tied to the bed by restraints that bound his hands and ankles. Drenched in sweat, he was shaking so violently that the bed was rattling on the floor. Some sort of stick had been placed in his mouth, to prevent him from biting down on his tongue.

It wasn't, however, the deathly pale tint of his skin, or his ragged breaths, or even the jerking of his body, that turned my heart to an icicle of fear. It was the fact that the doctor hadn't even begun preparing to move him.

I glanced down at the timer. There were only six minutes left.

What was the doctor doing? Everyone else was already leaving the building.

"Doctor," I ground out every word I spoke, "there is a bomb somewhere in this building that's going to off in just over five minutes. We need to get Qui-Gon out of here now."

"As I told you before, Dorasyne is an extremely powerful drug. If I just suddenly stop his treatment, his body will go into shock and he could die."

A shudder ran through me at those words. Revelc Cainam had planned this out completely. He wanted Qui-Gon dead. He wanted me to know I hadn't been able to save him. He had made sure that one way or the other – as a result of the illness, the treatment, or the bomb – he would die. After that was accomplished, then he was going to come after me.

Having him die in an explosion or in a drug-induced shock…which was worse?

However, the doctor had said he 'could' die, not that he would die. My Master was strong, he would fight with every last breath to stay alive, just as I would fight with everything I had to help him. There was still a way out of this – there was always a way out. "Doctor," I whispered emphatically, "if we don't get him out of here, he will die."

The doctor's gaze fell to Qui-Gon, "I've already begun decreasing the amounts of Dorasyne being filtered into his system, but it'll take at least another ten minutes before it's a safe enough level to disconnect him."

"We don't have ten minutes, we have five," I said tersely, "disconnect him."

He seemed hesitant, clearly unwilling to harm his patient in any way, but finally the severity of the situation seemed to dawn on him, and he nodded. Striding over to the machine, he turned it off and quickly pulled the tubes from Qui-Gon's body. Then he carefully lifted my Master's shaking form into his arms and prepared to carry him from the room.

I released a long breath, and with it dispensed of the tension and worry that had filled me. There were still five minutes left – more than enough time for the doctor to get my Master out of the building. Everyone else had no doubt already been evacuated. Unless I could find the bomb, the hotel would be lost, but at least no one would die.

Qui-Gon had taught me how to disarm bombs. If I knew where it was, then I had no doubt that I could deactivate the triggering sequence. The problem was finding where it was hidden, and it could have been anywhere. And then again, no, not really. His goal in this whole thing was to kill Jedi – in this case, Qui-Gon and myself. He would have put the bomb in our rooms. After all, he had made the reservations, so he knew where we were staying.

I looked around the suite. There were still a million places to hide a bomb here. In one of the many cabinets, in the food dispensers, in the bedding…it could be virtually anywhere. I didn't have time to search through the whole room; I would simply leave with the doctor and Qui-Gon. The Order would no doubt pay for the repairs and…

"Obi-Wan!" the doctor's use of my first name drew my attention even quicker than the fear that was clearly evident in his voice, and in the wild look that he gave me when I met his gaze.

The tricklings of worry began to seep through me again. "What?"

The doctor gestured towards the doorway that led from the suite to the hallway. Then he carefully extended his hand and tried to push it through the opening, only to be met by a light buzzing and the momentary appearance of a shimmering red wall that extended across the entrance.

A force-field! Somehow a force-field had been erected across the door. But how, and when? I had just entered, and it obviously hadn't been there, or I wouldn't even have been able to get in. Buildings were often built with force-fields that would automatically activate to enclose and contain a fire, but there was no reason for it to have activated before the explosion.

Emergency protocols…of course! The containment force-fields could all be activated from the control center, which was probably in the lobby, if some sort of emergency was perceived. The receptionist no doubt believed that everyone had evacuated the building, and was trying to contain the damage as much as possible. Normally, that would have been a very good idea, to try and keep the people and transports on the streets from getting hit by flying pieces of burning debris, but now it virtually damned us for it meant that all other computer functions had been shut down in order to maintain the shields. There was no way to contact anyone and have them deactivate them. Our only hope was for me to find that bomb and deactivate it, and now I only had three minutes left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sparing a glance at the timer, I saw that only two minutes remained. Two minutes and the doctor and I had yet to find the bomb. We were almost frantically searching through the rooms, dumping the contents of cabinets and drawers onto the floor, but we had little hope of locating it in the time we had left. The room was already a disaster zone – objects lay strewn across the floor, forming an obstacle course of sorts – and yet there were still so many places it could be. Too many places.

Feeling despair bubble within me, I found myself staring out the window in our rooms. The view was of the street, where transports and people were rushing about their lives, hurrying to get to work, or go home, completely unaware of what was going on. It suddenly seemed to put everything in context, making me realize how small my problems really were in the grand scheme of things.

My eyes darted further, aimlessly drifting across the scene before me. Beyond the street was...a power plant? Wait… Sudden realization dawned within me. This room was on the opposite end of the hotel, not the end that faced the Complex of Administration, which meant that in my vision, it had been a different room I had seen explode.

Of course! How in the universe could I have missed it? The receptionist had told us that our room had accidentally been given to someone else! That was why Revelc Cainam had been so insistent on changing the security measures…he had no doubt discovered the error and wanted to move the bomb, but hadn't been admitted.

The bomb wasn't in this room; it was in the room we were originally supposed to be staying in, on the other side of the hotel. That meant that we would be spared the brunt of the explosion. Of course, my vision had shown me that the bomb was too powerful for it to matter. We still wouldn't escape its wrath, we would just have more time to contemplate our destruction. Wonderful, instead of dying in the initial blast, we could suffocate to death when the shields failed. I always had preferred slow, painful death over an instant one.

I rubbed my face with a cold, stiff hand. I had no place for those thoughts right now. The force-fields wouldn't last long against the force of the explosion – maybe a few milliseconds – but that could possibly be enough to save us. All they had to do was sufficiently contain the explosion so that when they went out, the rush of fire, heat, and smoke wouldn't kill us. Then, once they dropped, we might have a chance of escaping the hotel before it was too late. It wasn't much to hold onto, but it was something.

That renewed flicker of hope seemed to clear my thoughts, which had before been focused solely on finding the bomb, and suddenly I was remembering my classes in basic computer operation. The force-fields were already up and could only be deactivated from the control center, but they could be modified from any computer in the hotel. If I could somehow form a linkup to the computers in the Complex of Administration, I could transfer enough power to all of the force-fields so that they would be strong enough to withstand the explosion. Then it would be contained in the main suite.

I knew I could do it, but could I do it in less than two minutes? I wasn't that adept with computers – I would have to really think about everything I did, trying to remember what I had been taught at the Temple – and the clock was ticking.

An abrupt, wrenching fit of coughs tore through my Master's body, momentarily diverting my attention. Qui-Gon was laying on the floor, near the door where the doctor had left him. Horribly strong convulsions made his arms and legs spasm, kicking and slapping against the floor, and one look at him told me that they had increased in their devastating affects. He was going into shock, just as the doctor said he would, but somehow that thought didn't fill me with fear or dread, it only sparked the birth of a single thought within me.

Trust your instincts.

Qui-Gon had told me I needed to trust the Force completely, allow it to always guide my actions. Now was the time. I had to remain calm. I was starting to let my emotions overwhelm me, but I couldn't do that. Not if I wanted to save our lives. I had to open myself to the Force and let its power complement my own wisdom. The knowledge of how to strengthen the force-fields was in me, I simply needed to believe in what I was doing and not doubt my actions and instincts. I had to let the Force move my fingers and not second guess myself. I had to do it to save Qui-Gon, and myself.

Quickly scooting over to the nearest computer console, I placed my fingers over it and closed my eyes. Reaching out to the Force, I let it flow through me. The shrill cry of its warning was the loudest thing I could feel, but I searched beyond it to find the serenity it always contained. Then I let that peace chase the anxiety and fear away, opening myself to it so that it could guide me like it always would, if I only let it.

Opening my eyes, I began to input instructions into the computer, trusting myself and the pull of the Force. What I had learned years ago at the Temple gave me the knowledge I needed to do this, and following the Force let me do it faster than I ever could have, had I forced myself to think about every little thing I did. My connection wasn't anywhere near as powerful as it had been on the shuttle, but it was enough. Enough to save our lives.

~~~~~~~~~~

I released an exhausted bark of laughter into the silence that had fallen over everything in the wake of the terribly loud blast and the buzzing of the shields as they had worked against the balls of flame and fire. I had done it. I couldn't believe it, but I had done it. Somehow, in less than two minutes, I had formed an uplink and transferred enough power to the force-fields so that they had been able to contain the explosion.

"Padawan Kenobi," the young doctor's voice seemed tentative, and I felt a shaky hand grip my shoulder.

Coughing softly to clear my throat, I turned to Doctor Marcof and smiled, "Yes, what is it?"

His eyes darted down to Qui-Gon, who was coughing so powerfully that blood was trickling from the corners of his mouth. Restlessly tossing his head from side to side, no doubt completely unaware of his movements or his surroundings, his bloodshot eyes were dancing across the room, never stopping long enough to focus. The convulsions had stopped, but the Force and my own eyes told me that he had only gone deeper into shock.

"I'm going to hook him back up. As soon as he receives more Dorasyne, the shock to his system should lessen, but I still can't give him anything for the pain and I'll have to start the treatment over again," he glanced at the machine, which was still standing at Qui-Gon's bedside, surrounded by the things we had carelessly thrown aside when searching for the bomb. "It has its own separate backup power source, but it will only last for so long. We need to get him to a hospital so that we can continue his treatment in peace."

I nodded, "I understand, thank you."

Kneeling down at Qui-Gon's side, I touched my hand to his face, stilling his movements. I wasn't sure if he even knew I was there, but if he did, I wanted him to know everything would be okay. "Qui-Gon," I whispered, leaning down to look into his rapidly-moving eyes, "I'm here. I know it hurts, but you're safe, and I won't let anything happen to you."

My Master blinked, and when his eyelids fluttered open again, I was surprised to see him gazing at me intently. "Obi-Wan…" he managed to gasp out.

Force, I swallowed hard, despite all the pain, he was still aware, still completely conscious. "Yes, Master," I took his hand, squeezing it.

He slowly threw a glance about the room, no doubt taking in its disheveled state, as well as my own, and then teasingly said, "Obi-Wan, can't you ever stay out of trouble?"

I laughed and then grinned, "At least I'm still on my feet."

His eyes twinkled and he tightened his hand feebly around my own. For a moment, we shared the humor and affection between us, but then his breath was stolen away by another round of coughing, and his eyes resumed their aimless search of the room. No doubt he had retreated back to continue releasing the pain into the Force, having only emerged to confirm my own words and show that he would indeed be all right.

~~~~~~~~~

Shaking my head, I stopped momentarily to gaze at my Master, who was reclining comfortably in the hospital bed, before resuming my restless pacing of the room. "I should have known," I continued berating myself, "I should have sensed that things weren't as they seemed," I sighed, exasperated at myself more than anything else, "I shouldn't have ignored my instincts!"

It had taken about five minutes for the rescue teams to arrive and safely lead us from the hotel, and another five minutes to take us to the hospital, but in that short time I had felt my calmness evaporating as I thought of all the mistakes I had made that had made it that much easier for Revelc Cainam to nearly steal my Master away.

My frustration towards my own actions had only continued to mount as the doctor reconnected Qui-Gon to the machine and began administering just enough Dorasyne to bring him out of shock, but not enough for the treatment, or to cause him pain. Qui-Gon had asked for a few moments to recuperate before beginning again, and the doctor had left us alone. As soon as the door had shut behind him, and his soft footsteps had faded into silence, I had begun rebuking myself before my own Master had the chance.

I knew, even as I felt my irritation mounting with my harsh words, that this was unbecoming of a Jedi, that I needed to meditate and calm myself, but I simply couldn't contain my self directed aggravation any longer. I needed to vent – I couldn't help it – couldn't calm myself long enough to release my emotions any other way.

"First," I turned when I reached the end of the room and began walking the other way, "in the hotel, I felt something…dark about Revelc Cainam, and instead of doing something about it, I buried the emotions and let him go. Then, in the Complex of Administration, I had him right there again, and because of a non-existent mission, I didn't do anything." Qui-Gon looked as if he was about to speak, but I cut him off, "Not only that, but even knowing who he was, I told him that you were in our rooms. No doubt giving him the only confirmation he needed to activate that bomb."

I fell silent for a few moments. Qui-Gon, hesitating briefly to see if I would continue my criticism, opened his mouth to begin talking, only to have me cut him off. "If I had been paying more attention, if I had been more in tune with the Force, I would have sensed that there was nothing wrong on this planet, and I would have taken Revelc Cainam into custody. Instead, he almost managed to kill you, he's still out there, and we have no way of finding him!"

"Obi-Wan," my Master finally said something, "I didn't sense that anything was amiss with our 'mission' either…"

"You weren't feeling well," I intersected, "Force, Qui-Gon, you'd been having frequent fits of pain and you weren't completely clear minded even when you weren't," even my Master couldn't claim that he hadn't been distracted by that, "I, on the other hand, was feeling fine. I should have been able to sense something, or I at least should have paid attention to what the Force was trying to tell me."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Padawan," he tried to reason with me soothingly, "Even if you hadn't ignored your instincts in the hotel, you wouldn't have been able to do anything for the same reasons you couldn't when you identified the man in the Complex of Administration. There was no reason for you to believe the mission was a sham – you did the right thing by trying to protect the negotiations."

"Right, sure," I said sardonically, "that's why he's still out there and you're in a hospital."

Qui-Gon sighed and he fixed me with a gaze that chastised me more than anything he could have said. "Obi-Wan," he was now using the tone of voice that brooked no argument, "come here and sit down."

Realizing it wasn't a request, I did as he asked and waited for him to speak.

"Padawan," he whispered, then, with a touch of his hand against my neck, urged me to rest my head on his chest. I resisted, momentarily, but then let myself be pulled down. Tensely laying my head down, I remained stiff and on edge. "Relax," his fingers began to gently massage my scalp and shoulders. Even though aggravation was burning within me, I couldn't help but lean into the touch, and let some of my anxiety go.

"Good," he spoke softly, "now listen to me. You're looking at your actions and seeing only the negative. No one is perfect, Obi-Wan, everyone makes mistakes. Sometimes we don't sense within the Force what we should; it happens to all of us. It's no reason to scold yourself so. You've done well in this mission. Remember, you used your vision to work against the saboteur, and you strengthened the force-field to save us."

I shook my head, "No, we were lucky. If we had been given the correct suite, we would have been trapped there when the bomb went off and we would have all died. This guy has everything planned out; it was just a twist of fate that saved us."

I heard and felt Qui-Gon's deep sigh, "Obi-Wan, the fact is that we were given the wrong suite and you did save us. You can't start second-guessing fate. You don't know what would have happened had we been given the correct one. We can only deal with what did happen. We weren't where the saboteur had planned for us to be, and you trusted your instincts and saved us with the force-fields."

Qui-Gon's attempts at reassurance were not working and I disagreed again, "I always let myself be easily manipulated by fear. Instead of staying calm, I let my emotions cloud me. It weakens my connection to the Force, and then, even when I am in tune with it, I ignore my instincts. I…" I choked on the words, but forced myself to say them anyway, "I-I'm not anything like…you. Y-you're always so calm, so in control. I'm not…worthy of your teachings."

In one way or another, those thoughts had been on my mind throughout this entire mission. Sometimes I had full confidence in my abilities, but all too quickly my emotions could sway. Sometimes I could see that it was only because I had more to learn, and that eventually I would reach the level of Qui-Gon, but at other times, like these, I simply couldn't stop myself from feeling this way.

It felt like I never did anything right, and like Qui-Gon never erred. When I was emotional, he was calm; when I didn't know what to do, he had all the answers; when I was disconnected from the Force, he trusted and used it always; and when I was weak, he was always so strong. Sometimes it felt like I would never be half the Jedi he was.

I felt a spark of surprise through our bond, but it was quickly clamped down. When he spoke though, my Master's words were so abruptly sharp that it startled me. "Obi-Wan," his voice was urgent, "don't ever say that again. That's not true."

"Yes, it is," I pouted sullenly.

His hand stilled and came to rest on my hair, a gentle pressure that conveyed the strength of his emotions, "No, it's not anywhere near the truth," he sighed, "Padawan, we've talked about this. You're only eighteen. I've had years more experience and time to learn, you can't compare yourself to me. You will surpass me one day, you just have to give yourself time. You…you're always so eager, Obi-Wan, and you push yourself so hard. And it's wonderful to see that drive in you, but it leads you to be too harsh on yourself, to judge yourself so critically."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," I mumbled.

"No," his voice was loud and denying, "No, I'm saying it because it's the truth. Obi-Wan, it took time for you to learn to control your anger. Fear, creeping, insidious, and lurking in every shadow, is a harder foe to master. You are calm and trust the Force when you have to, and that's a beginning."

"I let myself be captured so easily by the Tarcalians," I said self-deprecatingly, "and I almost let you be killed."

"You crash-landed the shuttle, you fought off the destroyer droid calmly, and you trusted your instincts and saved us at the hotel," he countered just as readily, "You are learning and growing all the time. You should be proud of what you've accomplished. You think that I was always as I am today? When I was your age, I had the same fears, and my own problems to overcome. Even now, I am not perfect. I make mistakes, and I am still learning – always learning. You're very skilled, and while it's important to see your faults so that you can improve, you can't take it to the point where that's all you see."

He paused and breathed deeply for a few moments. When he spoke again, he emphasized each and every word, "I've said this before, and I'll say it again. You cannot expect to be at the skill level of a Master without having gone through the lessons to reach it."

Pulling gently on my head, he tenderly coaxed my chin up until I was looking at him. "Do you understand, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes," I said rather meekly, "I understand." And I did understand. Logically, what he said made sense and I had told myself the same things. My mind easily accepted that. It was my heart that refused to believe me. It was my heart that conjured these fears, doubts, and uncertainties, and it was my heart I would have to teach to understand. Unfortunately, more often than not, it was my heart that ruled my feelings.

Holding his hand to my chest, I felt my frustration draining from me only to be replaced by drained mental exhaustion, and acute embarrassment. Force, I was continually shaming myself with these ridiculous outbursts. A blush painted my cheeks, but I refused to let myself look down, and instead I said, "I'm sorry, Qui-Gon. Thank you, I will try to make my heart understand."

A kind smile touched his lips, and I knew he understood, "I'm always here," he reminded me, filling me with gratitude at being his friend, and warmth at knowing how devoted he was to me.

The rich, joyful sound of Qui-Gon's merry laughter suddenly filled the room, surprising me. Feeling his mirth brought a smile to my lips, as seeing him happy made me happy, but I couldn't understand the source of it.

"What?" I questioned a little playfully when he stopped.

He grinned, and I could tell he was about to tease me, "You always were an odd apprentice, you know that? You do everything backwards! Force, during the bomb crisis you remained relatively calm, but afterwards, when we're in no immediate danger, you get all frustrated and annoyed. Instead of feeling proud of what you did with the force-fields, you start criticizing yourself. At this rate, when you're knighted, you won't be able to stop from telling the entire Council how bad a knight you'll make."

I blushed furiously, but smiled anyway, realizing he was right. My actions really had made little sense. One would have thought that I'd of been happy because of what I had done, instead of launching into an intense analysis of everything I had done wrong. I tried to come up with a quick retort, but thought of nothing clever to say, so instead I just fixed him with a pretend-glare.

"I would like to meditate before I continue the treatment," Qui-Gon said, once again the serious, dignified Master, "I believe it would do both of us good."

"Yes, Master," I agreed, "I could use your help in finding my center."

"And I could use your help in strengthening myself for the pain," he said, telling me with his deep, piercing cobalt eyes that our partnership wasn't one-sided and that I helped and taught him as well.

Thinking about what Qui-Gon would have to endure didn't make me happy, but I joked anyway, "What? The ever-wise, mighty Qui-Gon Jinn isn't actually invincible?"

He gave me a mock look of despair, "Oh no, my cover is blown."

We both laughed.

TBC… (on Sunday)