My Two Jedi

Part IX

It was a strange sensation, having Master Jinn in my mind. Before Obi-
Wan, I had only ever had Committee scanners in my thoughts. They were
cold and official and looking for very specific thoughts, and were done
in moments. Then there was Obi-Wan, who had entered me delicately,
sensually, and sta stayed there, curled up like a cat in a warm
corner, leaving a warm resonance behind.

Master Jinn was…well, he was somewhere between the two extremes. He
came on slowly, carefully, so as not to alarm me, spreading across the
surface of my mind, not trying to go too deep too fast. But I had
meant what I said, that I trusted him as Obi-Wan had shown me that he
did, and I suppose I was anxious to get this over with, given Obi-Wan’s
obvious disinclination. So I exposed myself willingly to him. Like a
hangar door irising open, what had seemed like solid ground became a
deep well. It must have surprised Master Jinn, because he fell into
the hole in my mind, rushing downhill toward my most intimate thoughts.
And as he did so, I was abruptly in his own.

I marveled at what I found. Even without digging for information –
which I was not about to do, as important as I felt it was for Master
Jinn to trust me – I felt I knew the man completely in that moment.
Not the biographical details, the dates and names and minutiae of his
life, but the essence of him. The feel of Master Jinn’s mind was
different than that of his Padawan, and yet equally alluring. If Obi-
Wan was like a treat hot from the oven, gooey and sinfully sweet, that
you can’t wait to cool off before biting into it, then his Master was
an aged cheese, chewy and substantial, meant to be savored and lingered
over.

/And you are a tall, refreshingly cool glass of water on a hot day./

The words that appeared in my mind somehow carried baritone inflections
despite being unhearable.

/Master Jinn?/ I asked, surprised. As I said before, our thoughts are
generally a jumble, a morass of implications and sub-meanings, with the
occasional word for emphasis. Only the most disciplined mind forms its
internal thoughts into sentences.

/Call me Qui-Gon…Meera,/ the mental voice urged gently.

I opened my eyes to look at him, wondering if I could be imagining this
exchange. Master Jinn’s – I mean, Qui-Gon’s eyes were closed, his face
as relaxed as I had yet seen it. A faint smile curved his lips. As I
watched him, I felt a tingling sensation inside my brain. With
amazement, I realized that he was… How can I describe it? He was
swimming in my thoughts, immersing himself in my mind as though I were
a crystal-clear lake. The feeling was not at all unpleasant. I
smiled.

Beside me, Obi-Wan cleared his throat loudly. Oops. I’d nearly
forgotten about him in those few moments of interplay with his Master.
It was our bond that was supposed to be the object of examination, and
here we were not even bonded.

I turned to him, favoring him with my smile, hoping he believed it was
for him. Symbolically, I reached out my hand, and as he took it, I
felt his mind reach out to me as well. Just before I let him in, I
gave Qui-Gon a mental tap to let him know Obi-Wan was on his way. He
responded instantly, bouncing back like a stretched spring out of the
recesses of my mind and back to the surface, where he hovered as his
apprentice slipped in to mentally stand beside him.

As the current focus of our little group, I decided it was incumbent
upon me to chair the meeting, so to speak. A summary of Obi-Wan and my
relationship so far seemed in order, but before I could do that, I
needed to accomplish a little housecleaning. So I went about
separating the three of us, bundling us each into their own corner of
my head, muting out background noises, and such. I found it
surprisingly simple, and when I was done, the three of us no longer
seemed a crowd, as we had in Obi-W hea head. Whatever form of bond
this was, it certainly did not seem to preclude others, as I now felt
equally bonded with both men. Well, mentally, anyway.

I sent out a series of images, a slide-show, starting with the
negotiations on Alpha, with Obi-Wan and I performing our official
duties, followed by our meeting at the party. When I got to our night
together, I became circumspect. Surely Qui-Gon knew, or at least
suspected, the nature of our relationship, so there seemed no reason to
deny it, but neither was there a reason to be too explicit. So I did a
bit of editing and then, just to be quite sure, I sent those images
through Obi-Wan first, letting him do some editing of his own before
sending them on to his Master. Then I finished up with my rescue,
making sure to cast Obi-Wan in as heroic and intelligent a light as
possible, which wasn’t at all a stretch, coloring it all with my
gratitude and trust in him.

When I was done, Qui-Gon’s voice sounded once more in my head.
/Visualize your bond./ He must have spoken to Obi-Wan as well, for
like a card game where both players lay down their cards at once for
comparison, we both immediately flashed up our bond images.

They were surprisingly very different. Obi-Wan’s showed a single,
sparkling, golden filament of energy passing between our foreheads,
undulating gently as though in a breeze as we stood facing one another,
eyes clothes, fully dressed in Jedi robes.

My image was the more truthful, I think. It showed the two of us
embracing. No, that’s not quite right. There was really only one of
us. We were vaporous, incorporeal, and our substances had merged,
flowing into one another, impossible to tell where one ended and the
other began. Despite the insubstantial, unreal form of our bodies, the
image had a startlingly carnal quality. As the two Jedi beheld it, I
could sense Obi-Wan’s physical reaction. Qui-Gon just withdrew from my
mind with a snap.

“Interesting,” the Master said. “I’ve never seen anything like it
before. It…it’s not Force-based.”

This seemed to shock both men. I didn’t see why it should. I’ve heard
of the Force, of course, but Alpha is an ancient planet with its own
beliefs, and I’ve never been religious, anyway.

“Of course it isn’t,” I shrugged. “It’s based on my telepathy, which
is a product of my genetically reengineered neurons, not the Force.
It’s just science.”

What sort of lecture I might haotteotten for that, I’ll never know, for
at that moment there came a buzzing sound from a panel in the wall and
Qui-Gon jumped up. “I’ll get it.” He went to the panel and pushed a
button. A picture of a small, green creature with big ears lit up the
viewscreen. Ah, it was a comm. panel, just one a lot more
sophisticated than the ones I was used to.

While Qui-Gon spoke with the green caller, I used the opportunity to
have a moment with Obi-Wan. Whereas back on Alpha he had been the
calm, helpful one, now the tables had turned, and he seemed to need my
support. He sat in his chair, looking down at the floor fretfully.
He’d let go of my hand at Qui-Gon’s announcement that our bond was not
Force-based, but now I took his up again. He was still in my mind,
though quiescent, but now I caressed his thoughts, and he looked over
at me at last.

“Whatever happens,” I started to say, but before I could finish, Qui-
Gon turned from the comm. panel.

“The Council has called you before them, Obi-Wan,” he announced.

“What about…” Obi-Wan gestured at me.

“No,” his Master replied, his puzzled look matching his Padawan’s.
“They have only asked for you…for now.”

Obi-Wan turned back to me. “I have to go. I don’t know how long this
will take. Will you be all right here?”

“With Qui-Gon? Of course,” I assured him with a smile. He squeezed my
hand, then let it go as he rose and headed for the door.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon called, “perhaps it would be best if you didn’t
mention…” And he brushed Obi-Wan’s mind with images taken from my
earlier slide-show, which I could see through the still-active link.
So they were planning on keeping information from their governing body.
I could certainly sympathize with that. Obi-Wan nodded his
understanding, then glanced at me while sending a polite request to
terminate my link. It was understood that if it were present, there
would be no hiding it from the Council. So I let him go.