There is much I can say about this man, who he was, how he lived, how much he meant to me.

"Obi-Wan, you must focus. Find the calm center within you." Thirteen year old Obi-Wan Kenobi opened his eyes to glance at his master’s face. Qui-Gon Jinn met his Padawan’s gaze with a slightly disapproving glance, and Obi-Wan shut his eyes and tried harder to concentrate. "Steady your breathing, Padawan. Slower and even. Concentrate on the living Force. Rid your mind of all conscious thought."

Obi-Wan tried. His rapid-fire, analytical mind had a hard time letting go. The thought, however, of displeasing his Master was too much and he attempted to force his mind to go blank. "You’re trying too hard, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan sighed slightly in frustration. "Becoming frustrated will not help your task."

"I know Master," he replied, attempting to let go of the frustration. How hard, after all, was it to stop thinking? Very hard, apparently, since he had not been able to do it, and they’d been attempting this exercise for almost an hour. He tried again, attempting to calm his mind and even his breathing, trying to lose himself into the Force. After ten, fifteen more minutes of trying, he heard Qui-Gon’s gentle voice.

"Its all right, Obi-Wan. That’s enough for now." Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up at his Master, hoping not to see disappointment in Qui-Gon’s noble features. There was none, just a slight smile. "No, Obi-Wan, I’m not disappointed. You tried your best. That is all I can ask from you. We will keep trying until you succeed." Obi-Wan nodded.

"Yes, Master."

"Not everything will come easy, Obi-Wan."

"I understand that, Master."

"Good. Come now, lets go get something to eat. You’ve worked hard today. You deserve a break."

"Thank you, Master."

He sat opposite Qui-Gon at the small table in their quarters, eating slowly and thinking about the afternoon. Tomorrow, I’ll try harder. I’ll succeed. I’ll make my master proud of me. He smiled at the thought of Qui-Gon’s praise. It was not rare, precisely, but Qui-Gon said what he thought. If Obi-Wan could do better, Qui-Gon told him so. At the same time, if he had done well, Qui-Gon did not hold back. It was that, Obi-Wan knew, that made him a great master. He was quick to praise when it was deserved, but was quick to point out faults in any exercise or routine. In the end, it would make Obi-Wan stronger.

He finished his meal, glancing up at Qui-Gon, who appeared to be deep in thought, a slight smile on his face. "Master?" Obi-Wan asked, startling Qui-Gon away from whatever he had been thinking.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Are you all right?" Qui-Gon smiled--a genuine smile this time.

"Yes, Padawan, I was merely thinking."

"About what?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I was just remembering that I had the exact same amount of trouble with this afternoon’s exercise when I was your age."

"Really, Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan. My master was at her wit’s end trying to help me succeed." Obi-Wan smiled, the whole afternoon instantly seen in a better light. His master having troubles with the same exercise made him feel better about his own difficulties. After all, if Qui-Gon Jinn could not get it right away, how could he, Obi-Wan Kenobi?

"Obi-Wan, get down!" It was a sharp command, and sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi obeyed his master instantly. He ducked around a corner, holding his lightsaber, and watched his master. Qui-Gon Jinn fought valiantly in the midst of fierce fighters that Obi-Wan realized he was not trained enough to take on. Not all of them at once, at any rate, as they were now attacking Qui-Gon.

His master wasn’t having any troubles, apparently. The first, second, third man dropped before his master’s lightsaber, and Obi-Wan held his before him firmly, keeping his attention focused on the Force for danger. Soon, Qui-Gon stood alone in the midst of the guards, and through their bond, Obi-Wan heard his master’s command.

<<Lets go, Obi-Wan. We have to get out of here before anyone else shows up. They are skilled fighters, too difficult to handle unless we absolutely must.>>

<<Yes, Master,>> he sent back, using the Force to scan the area for any other soldiers. He sensed many men, but with the aid of the Force they managed to avoid any other trouble and slipped into the countryside, away from the city.

Obi-Wan shivered, pulling his cloak more tightly around him. The air temperature had dropped significantly in the several hours since they had fled the city, and they had not been able to find true shelter. Qui-Gon continued on, a step ahead of him, and occasionally turned to see if his Padawan was still following.

Obi-Wan used the Force to try to keep himself warm, but it was a skill he had not yet mastered. He shivered involuntarily. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" his master’s soft voice asked him as Qui-Gon stopped and turned to face him. Obi-Wan took two more steps so he was standing beside his Master.

"I am fine, Master," he said, for even though he was cold it did not bother him…not much anyway. Qui-Gon looked like he didn’t believe his Padawan, and Obi-Wan knew he did not. He could feel Obi-Wan’s discomfort through their link most likely, and even if he could not, Obi-Wan was sure that his Master was not fooled.

"Very well, Obi-Wan." His master glanced around them at the rock formations surrounded by grasses. The stars twinkled cold above them, sharp knifepoints in the blackness of the sky. "Stay here," Qui-Gon told his Padawan after a moment, and stepped forward and down. "There’s a cave here." In a second, he had disappeared from view.

Obi-Wan stood in the night, concentrating to stop his own shivering, listening to the cries of nocturnal animals, and wondering where Qui-Gon had gone.

Several minutes later, his master reappeared. "We can stay here," he said, "We’ll be safe I believe. Careful going down, there is a low ledge. Don’t hit your head."

"I’ll be careful," he answered, following Qui-Gon’s lead into the darkness of the half-concealed cave. Once inside, he sat down and looked around the small chamber, lit green by the glow of Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. Qui-Gon had disappeared with the command to "Stay put," so Obi-Wan waited patiently until his master reappeared with an armful of sticks and grasses. He started a small fire on the floor of the cave, and Obi-Wan was grateful for the warmth it gave.

"How are we going to get out of here, Master?" he asked.

"I attempted to contact the ship," Qui-Gon began, "but unfortunately there was no response. We’re on our own for the time being." He cast a glance at his Padawan, deactivating his saber. "We’ll be fine, Obi-Wan."

"I have every confidence in that, Master," he replied, for truly he did. He was starting to get warmer, and the universe didn’t seem quite so bleak. The smoke drifted out the hole Qui-Gon had created with his lightsaber in the top of the cave, and through the hole, Obi-Wan could see the stars. "Do you think anyone will see the smoke?"

"We’re extremely far out in the frontier. I doubt that there is anyone here at all. If there is, we’ll have to take care of it, but I doubt we will be discovered."

Obi-Wan simply nodded, noticing his exhaustion for the first time. Qui-Gon, always observant, spoke. "Why don’t we sleep, Obi-Wan. The Force will warn us if anyone is near, and I believe we both need the rest."

"Yes, Master," he said dutifully, lying down away from the fire a ways, but still close enough to take advantage of some of its warmth. He heard Qui-Gon lie down as well, and that was all he sensed before sleep claimed him.

The next morning, Qui-Gon Jinn awoke early. The sun was just beginning to rise, slowly blotting out the stars one by one. He assessed their situation. They had enough with them to survive for a week or two, and if their rations ran out there were plenty of ways to find food. There was a small stream running below the rocks, so water was not a problem. They could survive here a long time if they had to. He rose, stamping out the remaining embers, for soon they would not need the fire in the daytime. He sensed a vague unease and wondered if it was his own. He glanced at his Padawan and realized Obi-Wan was shivering uncontrollably. He was kneeling by Obi-Wan’s side instantly, and he rolled his Padawan onto his back. Obi-Wan’s face was flushed, shudders rocking his lithe frame, tension gripping his entire face. "Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, at the same time reaching out to touch Obi-Wan’s spirit through their bond…there was nothing there, only confusion and pain. His large hand searched for and found Obi-Wan’s forehead, feeling the fever radiating off his Padawan. "Obi-Wan," he asked again, concern rising in his own soul.

The young man’s eyes fluttered open, but remained distant, unfocused, his head lolling to one side and then the other, the shudders in his body becoming increasingly violent. Qui-Gon pulled his Padawan into his arms, holding his head steady while the seizure fought out its fury. He tried to soothe Obi-Wan using the Force, but his body was gripped in whatever infection he was fighting.

It was a violent illness, something Qui-Gon had never seen before. His fever was extremely high, the seizures soon got worse, and Obi-Wan gained a violent cough that was attempting to clear fluid and blood from filled lungs.

Qui-Gon placed a cool cloth, a piece of his own tunic dipped in water, on Obi-Wan’s head in an attempt to bring his fever down. He wiped away a bit of blood from his Padawan’s cheek, concern carved deeply into his noble features. He could feel, through the Force, that Obi-Wan’s grip on life was tenuous…that whatever disease this was would soon claim him without true medical help. It occurred to Qui-Gon that even if medical help did come, it may not be of any use. That thought frightened the Jedi Master as he held his Padawan’s head in his lap, carefully wiping it with the cloth, sending out waves of Force in an attempt to soothe the young man’s troubled spirit.

<<Fight this, Obi-Wan,>> he told the young man through their bond, not knowing if Obi-Wan could hear, <<I’m here with you…I’ll help you.>>

The day passed and night fell. Qui-Gon lit the fire again after having quickly gone out to get timber. His apprentice was shaking with cold even though he still ran a high fever, and for only the second time the young man’s eyes opened. They were wild and disconcerted; pain and fear radiated off him in waves. Qui-Gon dropped what he was doing and knelt beside his Padawan, removing his own cloak and wrapping it around Obi-Wan tightly in an attempt to keep away the cold. He spoke to the young man, forcing his voice to be calm and steady and low, even though his emotions raged inside of him.

Obi-Wan was the closest to a son he would ever have, and ever since the boy had been thirteen, he had depended on Qui-Gon to teach him, to care for him, and to keep him safe. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan trusted him implicitly, without questioning, and knew the adoration the boy had for him. The feelings, in themselves, were mutual. Qui-Gon loved his Padawan with the love a father has for a son, he trusted him, and he was proud of his apprentice’s progress and abilities. He tried to think of what he would do if his Padawan were to die, but he quickly shoved the thought away and pulled out the communicator.

<<Obi-Wan, everything will be all right,>> he told the young man through their bond before he flipped the communicator on. After a moment when there was nothing but static, he picked up something…it was faint, but he thought it was a voice… "Can you hear me?" he asked into the commlink, and was rewarded with a burst of static and a familiar voice--the pilot who had brought them here. Her low, rusty voice was welcome.

"Master Jedi?" the woman asked.

"Yes, this is Qui-Gon Jinn," he began, "You need to come right away. My Padawan is ill and we must get him to Courascant as soon as possible."

"I’m looking in on your coordinates, Master Jedi." A long pause. "I can be there in seven standard hours."

"Very well," Qui-Gon said, "As fast as you can." He flipped the communicator off and spoke aloud to Obi-Wan. "She’s coming as fast as possible, Obi-Wan, we’ll get you help."

Through the dim fever haze that permeated his mind, Obi-Wan opened his eyes in an attempt to figure out what was happening to him. He dimly felt the shudders rocking his body, but mostly he just felt cold. That’s when there was a warm sensation and he was moved, something that sparked pains in his chest, but then he was wrapped in something soft and warm and before long firm. He attempted to figure out what had happened, and dimly realized that Qui-Gon had wrapped Obi-Wan in his cloak and was now holding him in his lap, a firm arm drawing the cloak tight.

Through his slight hold on the Force, Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon’s voice although he could not respond and felt the cloak that was saturated with Qui-Gon’s presence. The feel of him from the cloak as well as from his master himself comforted him. He felt Qui-Gon’s hand stroking his hair in a soothing gesture, and Obi-Wan allowed the darkness of unconsciousness to claim him again.

Time passed slowly for Qui-Gon Jinn. He sat there, hour after hour, with Obi-Wan held in his lap, gently wiping away the blood when Obi-Wan coughed, using the Force to ease his Padawan’s pain as best he could. From his internal sense of time, Qui-Gon knew that almost six and a half hours had passed. Obi-Wan’s face had gone from flushed red with fever to pasty grey; Qui-Gon was not sure why. The coughing fits were increasing in number and length and each time they brought up more blood and fluid. Obi-Wan’s grip to life was weakening rapidly, and Qui-Gon’s whole soul rebelled against the fact that the bright young life he held in his arms, full of promise and talent, would be taken from him so soon. He sent the Force streaming into Obi-Wan, attempting to strengthen him, but that only made a slight difference. His breathing was slowing, the coughing grew worse, and Qui-Gon, for the first time in years, was unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, he heard a beep and he grabbed his commlink and activated it quickly.

"Hello?"

"Master Jedi," the pilot’s voice began, "I’m beginning my descent. ETA two minutes."

"Thank the Force…" Qui-Gon breathed in relief, "I’ll be waiting."

Obi-Wan had made it alive back to the temple, and now Qui-Gon sat outside his room where the healers kept a constant vigil by the young Padawan’s side. Qui-Gon refused to move from his position, he sat meditating, willing his Padawan to live, to survive, to heal.

The fourth day found Qui-Gon still seated outside the door, not allowed in to see his Padawan. He was meditating when he heard a voice. "Old friend, you’re not helping him by sitting here." He opened his eyes to see Mace Windu staring down at him.

"Mace," he began, "I can’t leave him. I will stay here until he leaves there…no matter how," he tacked on as an unpleasant afterthought.

"Qui-Gon, you’ll do nobody any good if you become ill yourself."

"Obi-Wan could be dying, Mace. I want to be here. I can’t leave him."

"You can’t, or you won’t?"

"Both," the Jedi Master answered firmly.

"Qui-Gon," Mace began warningly.

"Mace, you know me well enough to know how stubborn I am. I won’t yield in this. I’m sorry, but it’s impossible." There was a long silence. Qui-Gon refused to meet Mace Windu’s gaze. Finally, the other man sighed.

"Qui-Gon, I’ll have you know I heartily disapprove of this. But the fact is I can’t do anything to change your mind. I’ve known you long enough to know that, so I’m not even going to try." He sighed. "If you need me, old friend, you know where you can find me."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, returning to his meditation.

Several days later, Qui-Gon still sat outside Obi-Wan’s room, only he was no longer meditating, just staring at the wall. The door slid open, and his head turned to see the main healer before him. The man bowed. "Master Jinn," he said. Qui-Gon rose and returned the bow quickly.

"How is he?" Qui-Gon demanded.

"There is good news today," the healer began, "He’s better. His temperature is down to normal and there is less blood when he coughs."

Qui-Gon felt as though a heavy load had been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time in weeks, he took a deep, thankful breath. "I expect," the healer had continued, "That he will wake up soon. I can allow you in to see him now, if you would like."

"Thank you," Qui-Gon said, and stepped past the man when he opened the door.

Obi-Wan lay in the bed on the other side of the room, covered in blankets, thinner and paler than Qui-Gon had ever seen him before. His breathing was still labored, but it was improved.

Qui-Gon felt a smile break across his face, profound relief washing over him in waves. It was then that he saw Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker and open. His smile widened even more.

Obi-Wan allowed his eyes to flutter open, ignoring the constant pain in his chest and the headache. At first, he was confused. Where am I, he asked himself, but turning his head, his anxiety disappeared when he saw his master standing there by his bedside, smiling down at him. He tried to find his voice, but it would not come, so instead he reached out through the Force and touched their bond.

<<Master?>>

<<Yes, Obi-Wan. Home. Rest now. You need to regain your strength.>> Qui-Gon sent a wave of Force over the young Padawan, saw him relax and slip into sleep. Qui-Gon sat down beside the bed and prepared to wait there, ready to be there for his young apprentice when he awoke.

"You always were slow, Obi-Wan," he heard a teasing voice say. He turned to see his old friend from the temple there, a Padawan like himself, Lisara Hralee, her black hair cut so it hung just below her ears, her bright eyes meeting his.

"Lisara," he said, smiling, "You look well."

"So do you, Obi-Wan," she said, "Its been too long."

"It has," he answered, glancing over to where their masters were deep in conversation, "Too long."

"Always," she answered with her smile, a smile he had always found infectious. "And it will probably be a long time again. My master and I were just leaving for the outer edge of the Republic."

"I’m sorry to hear that. I wish we could have spent some time together."

"Yeah," she said, grinning, "Maybe this time you could have beat me when we sparred."

"You bet I could have," he said lightheartedly.

"Lisara!" She turned and gave a deferential nod of her head to her master to say she’d heard.

"Well, time flies and so must I," she answered, "Goodbye, Obi-Wan," she said lovingly, reaching out to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before she walked away. She turned around only once to wave as she and her master went in the opposite direction of him and Qui-Gon.

Two weeks later, Obi-Wan was asleep, dreaming a vague shapeless dream that for some reason filled him with dread. There were screams, bright flashes, and a feel of fear so tangible he thought he could touch it if he tried. Suddenly, he saw her, Lisara, striding boldly into the lights, until suddenly, it was her scream that filled his mind.

He jerked awake and was instantly rocked by waves of nausea and dizziness as the world spun around him. He tried to reach out to grab something solid, but he could not find anything until suddenly, there was a firm hand on his arm.

His eyes met his master’s as he tried to reign in the vertigo and feelings of horror that were washing over him, the memory of Lisara’s scream echoing through his mind. His master’s arms were the anchors he needed. His hands gripped his master’s forearms tightly--they were concrete, real, and steady, as they always had been.

"Master," he managed to say finally once the vertigo had slowed almost to a halt.

"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon Jinn asked in concern.

"I…I don’t know what that was," he began, but he realized he knew, "Lisara…" It had been her death he had sensed, the Force giving him knowledge of whatever had happened, "By the Light…"

"What happened, Obi-Wan?"

"She’s dead…" he said, trying to force himself to discredit his own words. He knew, however, the truth behind them. He felt the tears begin, and as much as he tried to hold them back, they came, pouring down his face in grief for a bright young life lost too soon.

Qui-Gon Jinn reached out and pulled his Padawan into his arms as the young man buried his head in his chest. He wrapped his cloak protectively around his Padawan as he cried, holding him tightly and safe, wordless comfort streaming from him through his arms and also through their bond…