Athena—Don't worry, Qui-Gon's not too bad, but it's probably a good thing they're out on a dangerous mission and not safely in the Temple.  Who KNOWS what he'd make them do then.  *Shudders*

Cerasi—Glad you enjoyed that chapter.  If I ever decide to do a sequel, I'll be sure to post it under my biography so you can find out about it, OK?

Thanks for the encouragement!  Now, on to Chapter 19!

(Wow!  Only two more chapters and an epilogue left!  We're finally wrapping this thing up!)
--MK

See Chapter One for disclaimer

Enjoy!

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Chapter 19

"Peace be with you, oh friend 'o mine.  May your days be many and fulfilling.  Prosper through your actions, learn from your mistakes, and remember humility and respect, for one day they will save you.  Admit there are some wiser than you, know your true friends, and never become the shadow of anyone.  Meet your adversary with the calm of an old friend.  Push yourself to your limit and go one step further, but know when you can take and do no more.  Should you ever need me, I will be here.  Our bond remains strong through Code, honor, and blood.  Our blood links us as one and as one we are linked by blood.

"Force be with you, oh friend 'o mine.  May your days shine and show great accomplishments of the greater good.  Apart we are strong.  Together we are stronger.  I make my vow to you now and for eternity.  Should we someday be forced to relinquish our honorable titles as Jedi, blood will still keep us bound."

Qui-Gon watched the exchange between the two Jedi Padawans silently.  Obi-Wan and Marie knelt on the soft ground (with the former in a slightly odd position because of his ankle) and chanted in secretive whispers, their words gently being stolen away from prying ears by the light wind that constantly filled the valley.  Facing each other with eyes closed and faces upturned towards the heavens, they moved their already close palms closer until just the slightest distance—the width of a fine, perfect strand of golden hair from an angel of Iego perhaps—separated them.  If the two palms touched, it would destroy one of the greatest meanings of the ritual being performed.  As long as the two remained separate, it meant they did not need to actually touch or be in the other's presence to feel and understand the other.

Marie and Obi-Wan, at the request/demand of Qui-Gon, were performing an ancient Jedi bond ritual.  It was not often that this particular ritual was done, as it was very rare that two blood relatives—near enough to one another's age to work together—were actually at the Temple at the same time.  This ritual helped to reinforce the bond already intact between two blood relatives—which, Qui-Gon decided, was exactly what those two needed.  The Jedi Master felt that the sooner it was carried through, the better.  Something ominous floated in the near future, and although he had never been known for his ability to read from the Unifying Force, he did not overlook anything that might hint to impending danger.

With the last line said, both recipients of the ancient communion rose slowly—Obi-Wan slower and less graceful than usual.  Marie, however, slowed her ascent so their palms, trembling slightly from Force energy being traded back and forth, could stay close.  Sparks from the Force energy, not at all painful, leapt almost playfully between the two.  Quietly, slowly, the palms were pulled away and the hands dropped.  Obi-Wan opened his eyes to reveal those blue-green orbs were alive with the power of the Light Side of the Force.  Marie's could have been mirror images of her cousin's.

Smiling faintly, with Obi-Wan using Marie as a crutch, they returned to the fire built by their comrades at the edge of the small thicket of trees and sat down.  Obi-Wan looked to his master, an almost sheepish look marring his handsome features.  The Jedi Master gave a slight nod—barely perceptible, but enough for the apprentice who so deeply craved his master's approval to see it and allow himself to relax.  He had done what his master had requested of him and he had come out of it better than he had gone in.

Pleased for the moment, he did not notice the darkness beginning to bud and swell in the Force.

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Antiyo stared out lovingly through the paristeel window of his personal lab at the large array of foot soldiers gathering just beyond the limits of the city.  His grandfather had made an excellent choice when he'd decided to bequeath the power to control the planet's defenses to his only son and his charming family: a beautiful wife, one equally beautiful daughter, and four handsome boys.  It had been a shame that only Antiyo, the youngest of the five, had seen what great things could be done with such power.  It was also a shame that he'd been forced to kill them all, including Grandfather, the late King.  All except dear sister, who had fled that was.  His uncle would also be dead now were it not for the fact he was just as corrupt as his nephew and a commanding officer of Choet's soldiers.

Yes, Antiyo thought with a smile, he would keep Uncle Lipa around for a little while longer, no matter how dense the man really was.

Deep purple eyes, nearly black even in the brightest of light, turned to look at the majestic mountains where his prey unknowingly awaited their deaths.  He scowled darkly when a child screamed somewhere nearby.  It was a scream of happiness, probably better described as a squeal, but the very nature of its origin reminded him of what had taken place less that a week ago.  Had his sister been smart and minded her own business, staying in politics instead of running off with that so called man—an avid Jedi sympathizer—he would not have been forced to sell his brother-in-law, Sei Mutun, into slavery.  And thus the whole back stabbing incidents that had arrived when the female Jedi bought him would never have taken place.  It was such a pity young Yuko had been thrown into the whole mess as well.  He'd held plenty of untapped potential, especially considering he had been Force sensitive.  Had Antiyo not been able to use him, surely Jenna could have…

Remembering why he was here in the first place, Antiyo turned to look at the small, silent figure that had been watching him so intently for the past few minutes.  The child was smaller than other boys his age were; but then again, his father had never been big either.  At least not vertically; he had been fairly big horizontally.  Kneeling, Antiyo reached out for the boy and smiled as he started towards him.  Had the circumstances been different, the child would never have even looked at him.

With light purple eyes and a mop of thick, slightly curly black hair, the child was everything he was supposed to be…the perfect clone.  Of course, this mission wasn't the exact reason he had been created for, but the child would have to make his debut now.  He would be perfect for the task ahead.

Smiling and patting the boy on the head with such awkwardness that one might think he'd never dreamed of doing such a thing—which he hadn't—Antiyo pushed him towards a soldier waiting by the door.  Spinning slowly on one heel, he turned to take in the setting sun and the mountains again.  With hands clasped behind his back, a triumphant grin graced his thin, pink lips.  This child would be the downfall of the four Jedi who had become nothing more than a hoard of bugs to him that required extermination.  This boy would tug on the heartstrings of the four overly compassionate, foolish Jedi and distract them just long enough to allow his men to take their places around the perimeter of the valley they had been discovered in.  And then the ambush would come and the two Jedi who had taken his lover's life, the scheming female, and her little friend would all be dead.

Oh yes, Antiyo thought smugly, Yuko will do his job well…

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{Master, something is not right here…}

To anyone who did not know Obi-Wan, they would have thought the young man, sitting quietly near the dying fire, eyes closed with his hands folded in his lap and one leg in while the other remained stretched out, was sleeping peacefully—and supposedly comfortably.  But a closer look would reveal characteristics of someone in a state of calm alertness.

Ever since his companions had drifted into sleep nearly two hours ago, he had found himself locked in deep meditation, contemplating how it was that his cousin—another Kenobi—had come to question her loyalty to the Jedi Order and wonder if, perhaps, something else called to them both in life, something more than just what they could give as Jedi.  Although he did not, Marie sympathized with the Mountain Women and their cause.  True, she had been here longer and thus seen more, but Obi-Wan still did not see where his cousin's actions—or rather thoughts of actions—were justified.

Although he ruefully had to admit to himself that she had not understood why he had left the Order for the short time that he did.

The older apprentice had been grateful when his master had stepped in to stop them from saying anything else they might regret, and glad that Marie had voluntarily reconfirmed her vows to the Jedi Order before they had reaffirmed their blood bond to one another.

But now—now that he could think clearly again, he immediately recognized that something was wrong.  Through the reinforced training bond he shared with his master, Obi-Wan sent out his message of concern.

Qui-Gon stirred in his calm sleep, accidentally bumping into Marie, whom lay beside him, entangled in the folds of her cloak seeking protection against the cold night so common on Choet.  Her blue-green eyes opened quickly, instantly becoming alert when she remembered their circumstances, but she did not move, instead choosing to watch the slow rise and fall of Garen's chest.  Something unknown seemed to draw her eyes to him.  She stifled a laugh when she saw a thin trail of drool dribbling down his chin.

Vibrations in the Force indicating a conversation caused her to close her eyes and roll over to face Qui-Gon, feigning sleep.  Opening herself ever so slightly to the Force, she attempted to gauge her cousin's reactions to what was being said between master and apprentice.

{I sense it, Padawan} Qui-Gon sent, slowly moving into a sitting position.  Noticing the tense lines of his apprentice's shoulders, he leaned forward and gently massaged them.  Concern laced his mental voice when he 'spoke' again.  {I'm worried about you, Obi-Wan.  You are not healing at your normally rapid rate.  You should rest.  I can stay awake and keep watch.}

Obi-Wan turned so that Qui-Gon could see his shadowed profile.  {I appreciate your concern, Master, but you need not waste your energy worrying about me.}

Qui-Gon saw a small smile come to the young man's face and awaited the appearance of one dry sense of humor that he knew all too well.

{I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi.  I know every healer in the galaxy and I also know the name of every single bone in the human body, seeing as I've broken virtually all of them.}

The apprentice paused and turned completely to see the concern etched into his beloved master's face, light from the dying fire dancing across his features.  He hated causing his master distress and that seemed to be exactly what he was doing at the moment.  {I will get better, I always do.  But the sooner we're off this planet, the sooner I'll heal.}  There was a pause and stretch of silence along the bond before he added, {should we investigate the disturbance?}

{Of course.  Stay here with the camp.  I'll take Garen and Marie.}

Qui-Gon rose, looked down at Marie and tapped her gently with the toe of his boot.  "Get up," he said softly but with absolute authority, "I know you're awake."

Grumbling softly, Marie rubbed her eyes and stood.  With a nudge from her boot, Garen joined them a moment later.

"What's going on?" he asked, unconsciously mimicking Marie's actions from just a moment ago.

"The Force," Qui-Gon replied simply.

Both Padawans' eyes closed partly as they opened themselves fully to the mystical power, feeling it swirl around and within them.  The disturbance was found quickly, as its level of intensity continued to grow.

Waving one hand to take in their surroundings, Qui-Gon told them to split up and search the surrounding area for trouble or anything suspicious.  "Keep your sabers close," he told them seriously, letting his eyes roam over Garen, then Marie, and finally Obi-Wan.  The latter nodded imperceptibly.

Obi-Wan watched his companions move off in different directions and disappear into the night, then struggled to his feet and dragged himself towards the speeder bike that they had left by the spring.  Halfway there he froze, a tickling sensation running along his spine that could only mean he was being watched…by someone very unexpected.

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Marie finished inspecting her area quickly and allowed the Force to lead her to where she sensed Qui-Gon's strong Force signature.  When the tall man finally came into view, she spotted another person coming up behind him.

Garen, she realized after a moment, trying to calm her jumping nerves.  The disturbance was becoming stronger with each passing second.  Watching Garen lean towards Qui-Gon, then point in the direction of the path they had traveled along to get here, she arrived just in time to catch the last thing Garen said—

"I can't believe it…It's him!"

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Obi-Wan forced his leg muscles to obey his commands and move, taking him to the bike as swiftly and smoothly as he could manage.  With his left hand resting lightly on the hilt of his weapon, he sat behind the bike and looked up, straining to see through the dark.  A figure appeared—small, slim…and very familiar.  No matter how hard he tried, Obi-Wan could not suppress the small gasp that slipped past his lips.  Walking through the shadows and coming towards him with a smile whose light could rival the brightness of Tatooine's suns, the figure stopped in the light of the fire and gave a toothy grin.

"Obi!" it exclaimed, nearly trembling from excitement.

Obi-Wan gaped.  "Yuko?"

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"That's not him."

Both Garen and Marie cast dubious looks at Qui-Gon. If anyone had known the little eight-year-old better than his father while he had been alive, it was Garen and Marie.  Where did Qui-Gon get off telling them they were wrong!

"Look closer," the Jedi Master said, sensing his companions' objections.

Garen and Marie reached out with their 'other' eyes and hands, studying every inch of the figure as it followed something seemingly invisible to the spring.  The older of the two Padawans present felt the difference first.  Wary, he turned to Qui-Gon.  "His Force signature—"

"Is different," Marie finished, picking up on the subtle abnormality.

Qui-Gon nodded, moving rapidly towards the camp before unexpectedly changing directions and heading towards the spring where he felt his apprentice had scurried to.  The perfect copy of the young, deceased Yuko Mutun could be seen closing the distance between himself and the Padawan.

"He is a clone," the elder Jedi explained quickly, not needing to look over his shoulder to know the two apprentices were close behind.  Tremors pulsed through the Force, danger and Dark Side emotions dimming the white-hot glow of the Light Side.  The three Jedi broke into a run as they drew closer to the camp.  The danger was prominent now, tangible.  Behind them, the single sun of Choet began to prepare itself for its ascension of the new day.  Before them, the copy of Yuko drew exceedingly closer to the injured apprentice.

{No!  Obi-Wan!} Three mental voices shouted simultaneously as around them swarms of soldiers leapt from their hiding places and Yuko Mutun brandished a high powered blaster.