Covalent Bonds

Chapter 11

"I feel up for anything," said Obi-Wan. He looked it, Anakin thought as he straightened his own obi. He buckled on his belt and looked down at his boots. Need a shine. Ahhh, Ferus won't mind.

"You're warming up to Master Tachi, I take it?"

"I feel like I'm getting to know her all over again from when we were Initiates. I am. She has a remarkable holovid collection, she's seen every one of my favorite horror vids and the last time we watched a retrospective, she and I quoted lines back at the cast. I wanted to change to 'interactive' with the characters and step into the vid with them, but she said 'no, let's keep it private,' just between the two of us, you know." Obi-Wan massaged his healed scalp with its growing fuzz of hair gingerly. "This is annoying. She knows how I got it, she even did it, but it looks ridiculous." He poked at it, he parted it --- worse --- and gave up.

Why is my easy-in-his-skin Master fussing? "It's just a little uneven. It'll grow out soon. Patience."

"How would you like it if someone yanked off your braid?" Obi-Wan granted that the comparison was hardly equal. This isn't battle nerves, but it's similar to it.

"I wouldn't. I'd feel almost like my honor had been tarnished. But" --- Anakin approved of his appearance in the mirrored closet doors --- "it's still here, they didn't, and my honor" --- he sat on the bed --- "remains as it was." Obi-Wan continued primping. "Obi-Wan, you actually like Master Tachi."

Obi-Wan jolted to a halt and sat beside Anakin on Obi-Wan's side of their fourposter. "I'm, I'm starting to. Quinlan has been unavailable for years" --- he's not gone Dark, I know he hasn't --- "dear Bant hasn't taken a Padawan, Garen has been away nearly continuously for the entire war and Luminara is on New Holstice. It's agreeable to have another Master to talk to, one who has raised a Padawan to Knighthood."

"And I'm not ready yet."

"My Anakin, you will be and very soon, I sense it. I wish I could be more specific for you. Are you very discontent?" You're reaping the whirlwind about the Tusken camp. Oh, Anakin.

Anakin twiddled with his braid and ran his mechno-hand over his Merit Beads. The Completion Bead yet to go, one more Master will put in it and then right afterwards, I'll lose the braid. The last bead for every Padawan was beige, almost the signature color of the Jedi, placed at the tip of the plait which was secured with its usual tough threads. On that day, his heart would thump, his eyes would fill as he looked at his Master with all promises fulfilled. Finally, the braid would fall. "Yes," he said shortly, then amended it to, "but only in spurts. Then I think of the things I've done and the years I've spent training with you and forget about it for another week."

"Time slips away from us when we don't think about it, and when we do, it drags unbearably. You are still closer to Knighthood than I was at twenty-two." I am the slow learner, not you, in the Force.

Padmé helped, but she's gone. Being closer to you helped, but that's gone. "I don't like hearing you put yourself down, Obi-Wan. Being Chosen One hasn't brought me everything, but I'm older now and have studied the Prophecy for myself. I didn't even have to become a Jedi to be the Chosen One." But how would the Force have brought me together with Sidious on Tatooine? Was killing the Sith my duty as Chosen One? I want a sign, kriffit!

"Perhaps I shouldn't have allowed you to study it, if it has confused you."

"Stop it. It does apply to me, so why should you not have allowed it?"

Because you look too deeply into some things and not deeply enough into others. I love you, but I'm not blind. "Maybe because our relationship is so different than what was between Qui-Gon and myself that I lost my way with you as a Master."

"For kriff's sake! You've been fine as a Master! You've trained me, protected my body, mind and soul, what more could you have done?" The Ualaq were gen-enged for having fingers instead of fins and you were gen-enged for worry, I swear.

Obi-Wan couldn't allow this. He knew that being his Padawan's lover was a delight in his life, though with the revised Code, other attachments such as his and Anakin's may have come about. Trow, everything physical really began on Trow, though we loved each other as true friends before that. Their relationship had led to this conversation. He imagined Qui-Gon's input. Qui-Gon's piercing blue eyes would have laughed. 'Padawan, Anakin is a vergence! You and he are together because you love each other in a different way than you and I did. Trust yourself.' He took a different tack. "Anakin, I don't pretend to know everything. I'm saying only that you are in your prime and it's natural to want to spread your wings. I may have held you back by something that I did."

"If by holding me back, you mean devoting every waking minute to my training and practically breathing for me, then yes, you've held me back."

"You have had only me as your prime influence." I think now you need more than me.

Argh! "That's the usual Master/Padawan arrangement."

"If you want to, erm, experiment with other relationships, that's, that's all right." I can give him this. How did this evening become so serious?

"I have friends that I spend time ... time with ... oh ... you mean ... Forget it. No." Not happening.

"The Code has been revised. It would be all right with me. Think about it, at least."

"I'm not doing it."

"I want the best for you, and if it includes --- "

"--- no. I'm content."

"There's more to life than contentment. There's exploration, too." I'm going to be late to Siri's. I need to talk to her.

"Tell me, Obi-Wan, why are you bringing this up now?"

"I'm thinking of things I never have before. Maybe it's a midlife crisis."

"You're feeling all right, aren't you? Master Lu said that you were fine with your injuries, but you wouldn't sit still for an in-depth exam --- "

Obi-Wan had been edging off the bed, angling for the door. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Aren't you and Ferus headed for the synchronized swimming demonstration at that fundraiser?"

"Yeah, some amateurs are joining Padmé and her group. I'll make it, Obi-Wan, but I'm not leaving you until you know that I'm not doing what you suggested. Never." If I can't have you, I don't want anyone.

It's romantic, but maybe impractical. "Let's table this discussion and have a good time tonight, Anakin. I'm going to."

"I am, too. But don't" --- Anakin one-arm-hugged Obi-Wan firmly, wanting to do so much more that he ached with longing --- "even think about that other thing. And I won't be late, don't worry."

"Hmmm? Ah. Meeting with Master Yoda first thing, right." Obi-Wan made himself stop before he ran out the door. Anakin's smile was light, but his aura swirled in uncertain ripples, yellow threaded with blue and purple with pink, shot through overall with solemn gray undertones. I've made him think. Hmmmm. Eh, Siri's waiting.

Meanwhile, back on Serenno ...

For two weeks, Count Dooku's war room on Serenno showed varying shades of orange skirmish situations, but not one red flare of all-out battle on any of the holographic planets. The opposing fleets patrolled, occasionally strutting with rude gestures past each other, that was all. A warm sun stroked the rose garden as Grievous stalked through the pathway of fragrant blooms that he could not enjoy and into Dooku's home. None of the staff dared look up. He no longer knocked on the massive wooden door; sensors built into it opened it quickly enough for him to stride without breaking step through the entry, down the hallway and briskly into the war room. Today, Grievous had good news for his Master. To the best of his capability, he was bursting with enthusiasm and had no doubts about his plan. The new series of MagnaGuards will eliminate our enemies without destroying their flesh casing. In fact, it will be their flesh casing that betrays them. Along with the crystal droids, this should spell our final triumph.

The war room looked similar to his last visit. Dooku arched over his comm station, where he was as usual intent on a catalog of Jedi articles. Grievous saw his chance.

"Who is 'Qui-Gon Jinn, Deceased Jedi Master'?" Grievous' talons had made no sound on the plush carpeting as he appeared at Dooku's elbow, ogling a sample of the merchandise that Darth Tyranus ordered so regularly. The quivering labeled figure, tiny though it was, showed in a fair amount of detail a large-framed human male with wind-whipped hair, the image captured just before his middle years. The portrait correlated to the age that the Kaleesh had been when the accident occurred that prompted the Geonosians, under Dooku's encouragement, to shape Grievous' current cybernetic form. Grievous thought it correlated, anyway. A year ago on Alliga, he had fingered the wrinkles around his augmented eyes. A memory arose of existing past youth, but before sagging middle age. It was not often that he looked in a mirror --- his self-inspection had taken place in an unguarded moment when waiting outside the Solar Sailer for Dooku to finish up some tedious bodily function that Grievous no longer had to concern himself with. The ship's polished exterior showed a bone-colored mask, its flared maxillary region presenting an even larger appearance to cow enemies. Grievous couldn't remember where he had gotten his mask, though occasionally a stray warm thought and the word 'father' played across his mind. As for today, another unguarded moment revealed a weakness of Dooku's regarding this Jedi, and Grievous paid strict attention.

"Do not dare to speak his name." Dooku flared his aristocratic nostrils, came to his feet in a whirl of cape and nearly took a step towards Grievous. He restrained himself in front of this machine whose so-called mind he had helped to create, realizing that Grievous could not possibly have known what Qui-Gon's true nature was. Qui-Gon was unique. He was not turned out on an assembly line, like most every other Jedi, myself included. When Qui-Gon's foolishness had grown with his height and the Living Force lived especially true within him, Dooku had had several strained conversations with the young Knight. At last, time and missions and natural attrition had led them further apart. Dooku's bitterness over never having had the chance to convince Qui-Gon of the rightness of joining the Separatists had burned out with the passing years, leaving a scar that no bacta could heal. Later on, he would have revealed the allure of the Dark Side, the facets of its ultimate rich glory. The anniversary of Qui-Gon's passing was the anniversary of Kenobi's Mastery over Anakin Skywalker, the one element in Sidious' plans that Dooku had never understood. Palpatine had not desired Skywalker, Dooku was fairly certain of that fact, though now the folds and dark spots of Sidious' map for the galaxy would never see Dooku's understanding. My plan, forming a Sith army, could use Skywalker as its General. Kenobi is beyond my reach, more's the pity. He has a disgusting amount of Light in him.

Dooku's eyes burned as deep as a black hole, and Grievous chose silence as the wiser course. The cyborg bowed in lieu of an apology and awaited his chance to reveal his plan.

TBC

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