The negotiations resumed at mid-morning, the two sides happily trading clauses and sub-clauses back and forth as they pounded out an agreement. The two Jedi had no need to be involved; they were relegated to being mere observers.

During mid-meal break, Obi-Wan said he wanted to stretch his legs and headed off while Qui-Gon found a quiet spot to meditate. He had been tempted to accompany his padawan, but had decided against it. Obi-Wan hadn't returned when the negotiations resumed. Qui-Gon was surprised, but his absence seemed to go unmarked and it was long evident that neither Jedi was actually needed.

In Qui-Gon's long years, he had never seen a complex negotiation so speedily and happily completed. The agreement was ready for signatures before the expected termination of the day's meeting. Both sides agreed to a brief recess, during it Qui-Gon slipped into a quiet corridor and contacted the Temple.

"Didn't Obi-Wan tell you?" the surprised voice of Jocasta Nu asked. "He contacted me just a short while ago and I passed on what we had found. All I could find was an obscure legend about during a time of trouble, a cloaked god will return bearing a staff of light to bring healing to his people. There's some confusion about the name of this god, but it's most commonly known as T'wa-Won. Phonetically, either of your names would sound similar."

"Yes, interesting, but obviously there's more to it than just that," Qui-Gon said; for some reason his heart was beating fast.

"There is," Jocasta said reluctantly. "That's what Obi-Wan said; he asked me to dig deeper and try to find out if there was more to it than just that. The legend says that the god will bring lasting peace by sealing the pact in blood. The initial translation was "a drop of blood," which is what I told Obi-Wan. You could hear him practically trying to think of a painless way to prick his finger. Or yours."

They both, almost, grinned at that. Obi-Wan's distaste for mess, which even one drop of blood would be by his standards, was nothing new to either of them. Not new, either, was either or both of them suffering from something at least a little painful on many missions – it was an unusual Jinn-Kenobi mission that didn't end with one or both of them visiting the Healers Ward for some bandaging or treatment.

Jocasta's voice grew grim. "However, I dug deeper and a more accurate translation in my view is that the god will bring lasting peace by sacrificing himself, or in a variant version, by his blood being spilled by another and his blood sealing the pact for all eternity. But it's not just a drop – Qui-Gon, it's 'the god's lifeblood.'"

"By the Force," Qui-Gon swore, and switched his comlink over to contact Obi-Wan. "Padawan, where are you? Why haven't you been in touch with me?"

"Master, I'm just coming in the door," came the calm reply. Qui-Gon could just see the slight raise of one eyebrow, the carefully studied look on his face belied by the tension behind his eyes as he picked up on Qui-Gon's apprehension. "I haven't had time to contact you, yet. Guess one of us will have to bleed some. Apparently, you know what I just found out."

"Yes, the legend – the sacrifice, everything." Qui-Gon tried to be calm, but his heart was pounding.

"Sacrifice? What sacrifice?" Now Obi-Wan sounded surprised. "A drop of the god's blood seals the deal is all; I was wondering which of us is expected to play that role."

"There will be no role-playing for either of us," Qui-Gon said sternly. "Why don't I see you, if you're coming in the front doorway?"

"I came through the side doorway," Obi-Wan said quietly, "and Qui-Gon," he gulped, "I think I know what you meant about sacrifice. I'm in the room, and, uh, I guess I get to seal the treaty they just signed - ." The comlink went silent.

Qui-Gon brushed back a strand of silky hair that had slipped over the bandage around Obi-Wan's head. He had known immediately how serious the head wound was – it wasn't the blood, which was present in copious quantities, it wasn't even the depth and position of the wound, which should have scared him out of what remained of his wits – it was the total and absolute silence in Obi-Wan's mind.

When Obi-Wan's comlink had gone silent, Qui-Gon had raced to the meeting room. It was only a few steps away, just around the corner. As he burst in the door, Obi-Wan turned towards him, his expression calm and serious, but his eyes were wide with the knowledge of what was already happening. In them was also acceptance.

Our mission is to bring peace.

Obi-Wan might have been able to grab his lightsaber, deflect the bolts, but Qui-Gon could almost see the thought be discarded. Obi-Wan knew one of them would die this day and he made his decision. He would save Qui-Gon, and assure peace.

"No, Qui-Gon," he whispered, and raised his hand in a Force push that dropped Qui-Gon to the ground. The Jedi master had barely time to register the strength behind it; his eyes met Obi-Wan's even as the blaster bolts pummeled him. He felt Obi-Wan's pain, heard a fading mind whisper that murmured, "Let my blood seal peace, not yours." Then there was nothing but a spreading pool of red on the floor, and a splash on the signed documents.

Qui-Gon was on his feet even as Obi-Wan crumpled, caught his body in his arms even as it slumped and gently lowered his padawan to the ground. He raised tear-stained eyes to find smiling faces grinning down at him. The leaders of both factions grabbed onto one of his hands and pumped it enthusiastically up and down.

"Sealed in blood; we have a lasting peace at last. The god has seen to that."

Lasting peace. But at what price?