A/N: Hello dear ones, and another chapter of the Pijal fic, where action actually begins :-). I apologize in advance for the probable technical inaccuracies in this chapter - and also, for those who actually read the real Pijal-story, this has probably nothing to do with it either. I hope you'll enjoy this nonetheless, and I thank you very much for sticking around and for your kind comments, as always! Enjoy I hope, Meysun.

Storms on Pijal (Stars of the Darkest Night)

A Star Wars Fanfiction by Meysun

Chapter Three : Collisions.

Oh but I just thought you might want something fine / Made of silver or of golden / Either from the mountains of Juran / Or the coast of Apalis

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Coruscant, Jedi Temple.

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The morning light was still dim in the Council tower, but Qui-Gon was already beginning to feel the city's heat on his skin. It did nothing to alleviate his mood, that was steadily beginning to sour.

"Explain to us, you will, why send another Jedi to Pijal we should", Yoda said, firmly, brown eyes meeting his unflinchingly.

Qui-Gon barely suppressed a sigh and made sure none of the Council members ignored the way he forcibly pushed his irritation back into the Force. Next to him, he felt Obi-Wan's signature flinch and somehow this irked him as well – the boy really had to learn that the Council members were Jedi, not gods.

"Master Averross told me that Pijal is currently divided in many factions. The few loyal to Princess Fanry are fighting against the Pijali supporting the slaves. Ironically, it seems that Czerka Corporation Fanry was so eager to bring down is rather supportive of her, and there are those like Rael who would rather have a peace treaty.

- And you are unqualified to be sent there because…?", Mace Windu's deep voice echoed, customary frown firmly in place. "We are aware of the situation on Pijal, Qui-Gon, thank you. I don't see why you and your Padawan should not go, straight away.

- Because we just came back!", Qui-Gon snapped, right back at Mace, and once more, he could feel his Padawan's start in the Force. "It has been fourteen months, and Obi-Wan is behind his studies already. I don't think it wise for him to get away from the Temple, straight into another diplomatic conflict, Force knows we got our share on the past mission!"

Mace just raised an eyebrow, but Qui-Gon felt shame and sadness and hurt seep through Obi-Wan's shields, bleeding into their training bond – his Padawan seemed to fold onto himself, becoming quiet and small in the Force. Almost disappearing.

"Tired of long missions you are, young Obi-Wan?"

Trust Yoda to have picked up the boy's wish to hide – Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan begin to squirm slightly in the Force, clearly upset.

"They require different abilities than the shorter ones, Grandmaster", his Padawan forced out, voice ever so soft – and Yoda harrumphed, because of course, this was no real answer.

"I see here", Mace Windu began, strolling through a data-pad, "That you are indeed behind some theoretical classes, Padawan Kenobi. However, your lightsaber training has improved, according to your instructors, as well as your telekinesis. And as for rhetoric, philosophy and basic strategy, well, you were quite ahead already before you left for Mandalore. This leaves…

- What classes exactly are you taking, Obi-Wan?", Plo Koon asked, gently. "You are almost a senior Padawan now, aren't you, you should be able to pick and choose a bit more?"

Qui-Gon turned slightly towards Obi-Wan, because truly, he had no real idea of the boy's schedule – he was so independent he was only rarely asking Qui-Gon's advice for his assignments. The boy's face was pale and, though Obi-Wan had slammed his shields shut as soon as Qui-Gon had stopped talking, he could tell how uncomfortable his Padawan felt under the Council's scrutiny.

"I am behind physics and mechanics, Masters. And planet history. And biology, chemistry and botany. Cryptology and transmissions. And Twi'lek.

- Your Mando'a should be fluent now though, shouldn't it?", Master Ki-Adi Mundi asked, and Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan's face lose all colour.

"Yes, Master", Obi-Wan whispered – and Yoda harrumphed once more.

"Too many classes you are taking, young Obi-Wan. Fit fourteen months into fourteen days, you cannot. Field experience, a hard teacher often is. Discard its lessons, one should not, hmm?"

The Grandmaster somehow managed to make his Padawan lift his eyes from the ground, and something in Obi-Wan seemed to quieten as Yoda added:

"Share Master Qui-Gon's worries about your studies, I do not.

- Neither do I", Adi Gallia said, warmly, and Obi-Wan's face seemed to regain some colour, cheeks even turning slightly pink. "However, Master Qui-Gon has a point about long field missions: they are tiring, and sometimes we all need to reconnect with the Temple and with the Force."

Adi's warmth would have made him melt, Qui-Gon thought, privately, and for a brief moment he actually believed he had won the round, and kept them both off Pijal, and Rael's antics. But Obi-Wan simply closed off, into the Force - the only thing melting were his thrice-accursed shields, one into the other, banishing every feeling deep into his very core.

And his stubborn, stubborn Padawan just looked at Master Gallia with bright, burning grey eyes and said nothing at all.

"May I ask for your thoughts, about Pijal, young Obi-Wan?", Plo Koon asked, and this time Qui-Gon felt something across their bond, a distressed call sounding suspiciously like what should I answer, Master?

But Qui-Gon's patience was definitely missing today, and this was quite a good lesson for Obi-Wan who was always struggling with getting in the foreground.

On your own, Padawan, he sent back. Time to shine.

The boy was clearly flustered now, but Qui-Gon soon heard his voice rise:

"I think we need to be careful of Czerka Corporation. Princess Fanry's accusations against them seemed to be true, since slaves were found on the Leverage – the ship she tried to destroy. It is not the first time such accusations are made about them."

Mace raised an eyebrow and folded his hands beneath his chin, interest clearly piqued – and well might he.

For his part, Qui-Gon struggled with his own astonishment, and had a hard time not staring open-mouthed at his way-too-clever, unbelievably-informed Padawan – seriously, when did the boy make room for all this, among the rest of his assignments?!

"Go on", Windu said, quietly – and Obi-Wan obeyed. Of course he obeyed.

"Several years ago, Master Qui-Gon and Master… Master Dooku went on a mission to Hosnian Prime. With Chancellor Valorum. Because Czerka Corporation was suspected to hold slaves there. Pijal is much further away from the Republic. It does not seem far fetched to think that they might have translocated some of their shadier activities there."

Enough, Padawan.

He had never expected Obi-Wan to connect Pijal with that mission – to be able to make such links in the single hour he had had between waking up, getting informed of Rael's call, and meeting the Council – and he did not like this.

Qui-Gon projected the words along their bond at the precise moment Mace repeated: "Go on", and Obi-Wan stopped, clearly torn between them.

The silence stretched for a few seconds, and then Mace sighed.

"Go on, Kenobi, no matter how hard your Master projects. I want to hear your thoughts, not his – no offence, Qui-Gon, but you have already made your point pretty clear."

Qui-Gon exhaled, audibly, shaking his head. And next to him, his foolish and oh-so-young Padawan fell straight into the Council's trap.

"The question raised through this situation is: what does Princess Fanry really fight for, and what do the Pijali truly want? Because it seems that what she disguised as a fight for her people to free the planet from Czerka's influence was not truly about battling slavery. Master Averross seems to think that Princess Fanry needs help – but perhaps the more objective angle would be to investigate about slavery on Pijal, and take appropriate measures…"

Obi-Wan's voice had faltered, slowly, towards the end of his talk, self-confidence waning with his words.

"But that might be idealistic, Masters…", he almost whispered.

Adi smiled at him, and so did Plo, behind his mask, judging by the tilt of his head. Mace only unlaced his fingers, face impassive.

"A tad, perhaps", he conceded. "But that doesn't make you unqualified. Rather the opposite, I should think. The situation definitely needs an objective angle, as you put it.

- Investigate about slavery on Pijal, you both shall", Master Yoda said, tone brooking no argument. "Find out what the Princess' intentions are, you shall endeavour. Perhaps time it is, as well, for Master Averross to come home. Judge of this you shall be with him, Master Qui-Gon."

Your brother-in-lineage, Rael is as well. Need you, he does. Do not forsake this.

Qui-Gon knew when a battle was lost, and the Force was pushing inside him, urging him to stop fighting. It did not please him, but its will was clear. And so he quietly bowed, Obi-Wan mirroring him.

"Yes, Grandmaster. We shall leave immediately."

He waited for the Council door to close, and for them to leave the Council Tower, not a word passing his lips as they used the lift. Qui-Gon waited for them to be back on Temple ground, and then he turned towards Obi-Wan, finally making room for his annoyance.

"Next time, Padawan, remind me not to use the word enough. Because you have obviously forgotten what it means. Perhaps I should have said luubid instead?"

His tone was icy, as always when he was seething – and Qui-Gon realized once more that this was something he was not proud to have learned from his former Master. In fact, he was not proud at all to seethe – he just hated the way the Council always managed to make their decisions sound sensible and wise, even when they were purely convenient.

Playing the Mando'a card was a very low move, though – and Qui-Gon regretted it instantly. Hurt blossomed in Obi-Wan's eyes and his Padawan went absolutely still, thin features as pale as the marble around them.

Their bond was mute once more, but this time, rather than a door slamming shut, it felt like a quickly snuffed-out candle – its light and heat a vivid memory that still echoed between them.

"I am sorry, Master", Obi-Wan said quietly. Tonelessly.

And Qui-Gon hated that it was his Padawan who apologized, once more.

"Obi-Wan, my last sentence was absolutely unnecessary, and I take it back."

Nothing changed in the Force, though, Obi-Wan still facing him with that hollow look in his eyes, bond mute and shields impenetrable.

"However, I am very unhappy with the Council's decision. Yoda, Adi and Mace may be satisfied with your assignments, but I as your Master still think that it is unwise to head out so quickly after Mandalore. Especially for you."

His Padawan raised his eyes, then, and Qui-Gon was shocked to see tears shining in them, because Obi-Wan had not cried in front of him for years.

"I am aware of that, Master", his Padawan voiced – and his calm tone, and the way he pushed his tears back with a single blink put Qui-Gon back on edge.

"Are you mocking me, Padawan?", he let out, voice very low, and he watched heat creep back on Obi-Wan's cheeks.

The boy's composure was cracking, his breathing fast and uneven.

"No, Master", he managed to let out. "I'm going to pack our things."

And with that strangled sentence, Obi-Wan bowed, hurriedly, and almost ran from him, quick steps leading him straight into Quinlan Vos' chest.

"Hey, Obi!", Vos smiled. "Still up for that sparring session?"

Qui-Gon had followed him, because there was no way he would let Obi-Wan just run from him, especially not in that upset state – he had stayed a few steps back, though, not wanting to crowd him.

And so he watched Obi-Wan shake his head, mutely – watched Quinlan frown, hands moving towards Obi-Wan's elbows and staying there.

"What is it, Obi?"

He did not hear Obi-Wan's answer. Perhaps there was none – his Padawan was much better at projecting, especially when he was upset. Quinlan's face definitely darkened, though, and he shook his head, Padawan-braid whipping unruly black locks.

"They don't give you any break, do they now?"

Obi-Wan seemed to fold on himself, and Qui-Gon heard Quinlan answer:

"Don't say such things. It's not true. I'll help you pack. I'm awesome at making things fit, you know."

That, Force bless him, made his Padawan let out a small huff.

"Why is it you get all the girls, in your missions?", Quinlan asked, hooking his arm with Obi-Wan's and prying another huff out of him.

And Qui-Gon watched him lead his Padawan away. Away from him, clearly, because Vos' eyes were very dark as they looked back at him – Quinlan was obviously thinking the Pijal mission was his idea, but Qui-Gon could not find it in him to chide or correct him. Not with the hurt in Obi-Wan's eyes still so clear in his mind, not with the cold, foreign way their bond felt right now.

What his Padawan needed, obviously, was a friend close enough to take his side, no matter how biased it was. And so Qui-Gon made himself scarce, making sure to ready their ship, and only came back to their quarters an hour afterwards, checking that Obi-Wan was alone once more through the Force.

He found his Padawan in the living-room leaning against the window, small bags packed and ready at his feet. Their beds were unmade, sheets already removed, the blinds were drawn and the kitchen spotless and empty.

Obi-Wan was looking at the plant he had brought back from Draboon, and Valentine was hissing quietly at him.

Get lost, Balentine.

The boy's projection was low and sad in the Force, and Obi-Wan turned towards the window, drawing the blinds and switching on the light for Qui-Gon.

And for the briefest of moments, Valentine lost her fierce and toothy aspect, turning delicate, purple flowers towards his Padawan that somehow matched his sorrow in the Force.

"Obi-Wan?

- I'm ready, Master."

He bent to pick up their bags and Qui-Gon looked at his boy, still lanky in the many layers of his Jedi clothes, auburn hair rising in unruly spikes at the back of his head, like a hedgehog. He let affection flood their bond and watched Obi-Wan's moves still.

I'm not angry at you, Padawan. I'm worried.

Serious grey eyes met his at last, and Qui-Gon realized Obi-Wan was still hurt. And that it had, actually, not much to do with his scolding. No, as he carefully probed at the boy's shields through their bonds, it seemed that his Padawan was hurt by his… worry? By what he had told the Council?

You don't think I am able for another mission. You don't think I'm able to let go. You think I'm behind my studies. You don't think I can help.

"Force, Obi-Wan, this is Bantha fodder, and you know it."

His Padawan just stood there, thin and straight like a reed in the wind, and Qui-Gon sighed – how someone as frail and tiny managed to embody a durasteel wall of defiance with his simple posture would never cease to amaze him.

"Obi-Wan, I used your studies as a pretext. I might worry for you, but this is private. The mission on Mandalore… I just told them it was long. I never questioned your commitment, and I won't. Ever.

- A pretext?"

Fine. At least the boy was talking again.

"Yes, Padawan. A kriffing pretext. I don't want to clean up Rael's mess, not again. And I don't want this Princess Fanry around you, because she's a little manipulator, from everything I have read and heard about her.

- I don't care for Princess Fanry!"

There was heat in Obi-Wan's words, and in his eyes – and Qui-Gon smiled, softly, taking a step towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder. And Obi-Wan did not shake him off, just gazed up at him, silent fury still edged into his very being.

"I know, Padawan… I trust your mind, and your heart. You do not know Rael Averross yet, but I promise you that what we will find on Pijal will be a real, real mess. I do not think he thinks clearly, and I think this Fanry knows it. And I had hoped to avoid messes around us, for a few quiet weeks.

- Master Averross is your brother-in-lineage", Obi-Wan whispered, anger leaking out of him, back into the Force. "I don't understand why you are so reluctant to help him. He's your brother."

Valentine curled on herself again, purple flowers turning towards them, and Qui-Gon realized, then. That it was still about letting go, about finding himself in the Force and among those he could call family, for his young, so young and tender-hearted Padawan.

"Obi-Wan, what Rael and I… What we are supposed to have – because it is not much, believe me… It has nothing to do with what you call brotherhood. Rael is not caring, protective and reliable. He has never been. I might be his younger brother-in-lineage. But I can assure you that the way your brother Owen cared… or the way your friend Quinlan cares… is as far away from Rael's relationship with me as it can be."

Obi-Wan's shoulders had slumped, Qui-Gon could feel it under his palm, and he drew the boy against him, enveloping him in a warm hug, crossing his arms on his back and holding him close.

"I'm afraid I'm very bad at initiating and nurturing bonds, Padawan", he joked, quietly, and Obi-Wan hugged him back, compassion flooding the Force around him.

"I'm sorry, Master. I'm sorry.

- Don't be, little one. I told you. I'm a crooked, tough vine. Just like Valentine – that's why we get on so well. The only ones that are more twisted are the members of the Council, who use my sharp-minded and kind-hearted Padawan to send me clean up Rael's mess."

Obi-Wan stiffened in his arms, and Qui-Gon rubbed his back.

"You need to learn to tell them no, Obi-Wan. But you will, in due time. Don't fret about it now – what is done is done. I don't think the Force would have let us avoid Pijal, as a matter of fact."

They soon left, closing their quarters' door, boarding their small ship, and Qui-Gon carefully entered Pijal's coordinates, calculating that they would arrive in about sixteen standard hours.

Coruscant was soon nothing more than a dot behind them, and Qui-Gon made the jump to hyperspace a few seconds afterwards, promptly letting the autopilot take over.

The ship was small, but their seats were quite comfortable, and he watched Obi-Wan take off his boots and adopt the lotus pose, sliding a data-pad on his lap and beginning to read.

Qui-Gon got up and stretched with a sigh. If he was supposed to meet Rael and spend more than a few days with him, he might as well use the reprieve of their trip to meditate, and to let go of his sense of unease and irritation into the Force. He stretched his cloak on the ground, removed his boots as well, and sat down in a pose not unlike Obi-Wan's, closing his eyes.

He emerged a few hours afterwards, feeling refreshed, and shook his head quietly when he saw Obi-Wan still reading, eyes squinting slightly and hand unconsciously rubbing at his temple.

He probed their bond carefully – the boy was reading; it was always easier when he was absorbed by something – and soon found the telling pulses of a headache Obi-Wan was Force-pushing back.

Qui-Gon got up, quietly, and bent over the navigation computer, checking various buttons, making sure their route towards hyperspace was still clear. And then, he slowly approached his Padawan, taking a look at his screen – Czerka's homepage, apparently – and placed a hand on Obi-Wan's neck, rubbing at the muscles under his fingertips.

The boy instantly melted against his palm, letting out a sigh – Qui-Gon was pretty sure no one in the Galaxy knew it was the best way to make his Padawan relax, and switch instantly from moody teenager to purring tooka.

He quietly closed his Padawan's data-pad and went on kneading the tensions out of the boy's neck, other hand resting against his skull, fingertips intent on absorbing his pain and releasing it into the Force.

"That was a full-blown migraine brewing, Padawan…", he gently chided, once Obi-Wan was fully relaxed, loose-limbed and rosy-cheeked against his side.

"Hmmm…", Obi-Wan just muttered.

"You need to be attentive to that, Obi-Wan. You can't just Force-push your pain back and expect everything to go away on its own.

- Hmmm."

Qui-Gon carded his hand through Obi-Wan's hair, realizing his Padawan was about to fall asleep on him.

"And you can't keep having a migraine every time we disagree, little one. It is going to happen again, you know… We can't have you in pain every single time, can we…?"

Obi-Wan's breathing had begun to even out, and his Padawan frowned, head tilting slowly towards Qui-Gon's side. Just before sleep claimed him, Obi-Wan managed to rise his hand and place it on Qui-Gon's forearm.

It's okay, Master. 'm fine. 'm fine.

Qui-Gon just carded his hand through the boy's hair once more. Hyperspace had always lulled Obi-Wan to sleep, even as a little boy, and he gently lowered the seat, spreading his Padawan's cloak upon his sleeping form.

And then he pulled Obi-Wan's data-pad towards him. Because his boy was right, it was high time to read up on Czerka Corporation and its more or less shady activities.

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Pijal Hyperspace Corridor

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Obi-Wan woke up in nearly complete silence, feeling more rested and relaxed than in weeks. It almost seemed like the Force was cradling him, and as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, trying to smooth down his hair, he realized what must have happened.

"Master, you Force-suggested me…"

His voice was rough with sleep and Qui-Gon smiled at him, seated in the chair next to him, looking as composed as ever.

"Maybe. You hardly needed encouragement though, Padawan."

Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes again, fighting back a yawn.

"Did you sleep, Master? How long was I out?

- About nine hours, Padawan. And yes, I slept along, for a few hours."

Nine hours was an awfully long time, and more than enough. Obi-Wan promptly discarded his cloak and got up – quickly draping it back around him though as he remembered this was hyperspace, equalling cold, especially without boots.

He rummaged through his bag and came back with a thermos jug and two ration-bars, handing one to his Master, pouring some tea into a cup.

"Force knows I did not miss those, Obi-Wan", Qui-Gon joked, but he smiled warmly at him as he wrapped his hands around the cup. "Bless you for the tea, little one. I can't believe you took time to make some.

- You were grumpy", Obi-Wan replied, playfully, and Qui-Gon chuckled, warmth permeating their bond, making him feel strangely at peace.

He liked hyperspace. He liked the quiet, the sensation to be somewhat closer to the Force there, because hyperspace was shrouded, full of light and yet full of mysteries. Every star had its shadow counterpart in hyperspace, every planet as well – and Obi-Wan sometimes got almost dizzy trying to figure out how he could be both there in hyperspace and yet travelling through it.

Maybe it was because his real body and his shadow-body actually met there, becoming one in the Force.

"Good morning, dear cogs and wheels of my Padawan's mind. It's nice to see you up, about and already fuming."

Qui-Gon was still chuckling, pushing the thermos jug and the matching cup towards him.

"Eat, Obi-Wan. And drink some tea. For your real- and your shadow-body."

You're such a tease, Master.

He ate his ration-bar, though – oatmeal and apricot, apparently – and savoured his tea, quietly, wrapped in his cloak, slowly emptying his mind, as his Master had made sure to teach him.

He was ready for meditation when he finished eating, and soon slipped back into the lotus pose he favoured, closing his eyes.

I'm at peace. I'm in hyperspace. In light and shadow, in the Force. I'm at peace…

The Force flooded through his chest, vivid and warm, and Obi-Wan breathed in and out, quietly, basking in its feeling. He was blessed to be able to sense it, he knew that. And it was so hard to explain to non-sensitive people, who mistook it for intuition, or instinct, when the Force was so much more. Sometimes it seemed like the purpose behind an action, sometimes like the essence of compassion… But mostly, it was the web linking everything together, and Obi-Wan was just a tiny knot in it.

And it was fine to be a tiny knot. He did not want to be more, not really. More was just scary, and silly, actually, because size did not mean anything in the Force. It always changed. It always flowed. And it was infinite anyway…

Obi-Wan soon lost himself in it – and when he opened his eyes, Qui-Gon was preparing the jump out of hyperspace, carefully monitoring the computer. He quickly pulled on his boots and sat next to his Master, obeying Qui-Gon's orders – and Pijal soon appeared before them, a patchwork of green and orange rising out of space.

"Almost there, Padawan", Qui-Gon voiced.

And that was when the first rocket hit them, causing the ship to quake and the computer to start blaring. Obi-Wan quickly bent towards the screen, trying to assess what was hitting them – it seemed to be a small device, probably a starfighter.

Their ship had only two cannons, though, and by the time Obi-Wan pulled them out, they had been hit again, one of their reactors had caught fire and planet ground was approaching dangerously fast.

The sensors were still screeching, alarms blaring, and Obi-Wan fired a charge against the starfighter, trying to assess who the pilot was, unease slowly creeping up on him because something about this felt familiar.

He narrowly missed the fighter, and they began spiralling towards Pijal, fire spreading through the back of the ship. Obi-Wan felt his mouth go dry, but his Master was not panicking and he did not want to give into fear – so he simply gripped the control handles, preparing to try and make them land, somehow, even though he had no idea how.

"Padawan."

Qui-Gon had placed his hands on his shoulders and was beginning to hook something onto his back. And Obi-Wan felt boneless terror creep up when he realised this was a parachute, and what it implied.

They were too far up – no, they were already too far down, they would…

"Shh, Padawan. Do not fret. I'll burn a hole through the ship's ground, and we will jump. It's the last thing they expect. And we can make it. We are already past Pijal's atmosphere."

Qui-Gon hooked the second parachute around his body, and pushed several buttons, programming the computer back to autopilot. Another rocket hit them and they both stumbled to the ground, Obi-Wan's heart racing madly, breath coming in short gasps – because the alarms were still blaring, the ship was burning and they were crashing, coming down FAST…

"Shh. Little one. It's very easy. Hole burning. Jumping. Pulling the chord. Landing. Don't forget to wrap yourself into the Force, and to brace yourself for the impact. It works every time."

Qui-Gon's hand brushed his wrist, fleetingly, and Obi-Wan breathed out, shakingly. And then, mirroring his Master, he pulled out his lightsaber, blue and green blade quickly working through metal.

The air flooding the engine's body almost sucked him out of it, and Obi-Wan had to use the Force to brace himself, fighting down panic when he realised just how close to the ground they were.

"Every time, Padawan", Qui-Gon said, blue eyes locking with his, and then, projecting all the love and confidence he had in him, his Master pushed him down the hole.

It was hot, it was fast, it was a blur of colours and sounds and pure fear, but somehow Obi-Wan remembered to pull the chord of his parachute and to wrap his sweaty fingers around the strings. He was coming down so fast his lungs were burning, he could almost see the pine-trees now, and he was so scared he could not breathe anymore, but he still tried to call the Force deep inside him, trying to slow himself down like he would have caught a dropping object…

Slow, slow, slow, please, please… It felt like being inside, and outside his body at the same time – perhaps he already was a shadow, but he was slowing down, he was bracing himself, he was…

The impact still came, though, albeit muffled by the Force. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes, and he sensed it through the Force, pine needles and branches colliding with his parachute and his body.

The scent of pine and burnt rubber overwhelmed him, shadowed by pain. Obi-Wan felt himself fall, bouncing off bark, needles, and earth. And then darkness swallowed him, spreading slowly behind his eyelids like spilled ink.

A/N: Sorry, I did it again. I used the cliffhanger - well, rather the pine-hanger :p. Poor Obi... Just so you know, the real story actually begins *now* :). I hope you still like my Qui-Gon, I tried to write him with some of the contradictions we witnessed in the Phantom Menace - he still means well, you know, and he loves his Padawan very, very deraly. Next chapter in a week, I'll aim for Friday and try to do my best. Take care and stay safe please. Much love, Meysun.