Disclaimer: All belongs to the great and powerful Mouse.

Summary: Even for a Jedi there is a price for perfection, but what if fate offered a chance at a refund and what would be the cost?

A/N: And here we are, dear reader, at the last leg of what has been a very demanding journey for our two (ex?) Jedi. This story picks up right where Perfect and Imperfect left off. If you have not read these two stories, this one will likely make little sense. For those stalwart followers who have witnessed the destruction of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn, know that this story will completely obliterate the surviving remains, but afterwards, we will rebuild… Enjoy!

A/N 2: Also, this story will be posted as each chapter is written so expect very slow updates. I'm not joking, but hopefully, the end result will be worth the wait. Also, thanks to Maeve Pendergast, my wonderful beta. I couldn't resist making some changes, therefore the errors are all mine.

Thanks:

Marie de Sanctos: Thanks! Don't worry, your questions will be answered fairly quickly. In the prologue in fact!

Geri K: Thank you so much! That ending was particularly difficult to write and I'm glad you enjoyed it. As to what is in the box, you will find that out right now.

Please R&R!

Prologue

"Obi-Wan, let me start by telling you that which I could not when we were in the Temple. Qui-Gon Jinn is not dead, at least not in a way that matters to you, and I suppose to me. Do you remember your studies in Ancient Jedi Rituals and Traditions? I doubt it as most students find the course material quite dull when compared to more… invigorating studies, but then again… you were never quite like most students, were you?"

Here the audio recording paused and though Obi-Wan could not see the speaker, he somehow could hear the Jedi Master's smile.

"Pravus Sectis," Mace's rumbling baritone continued and all earlier traces of the smile were gone. "It comes from an archaic form of Basic literally meaning,"

"Wicked cut," Obi-Wan intoned with the recording.

"The better known name, however, is 'The Severance.' Sectis, in the early days of the Order, was used as a punishment for rogue or dark Jedi. If a Knight or Master was judged to be corrupted by Dark, then the Council could impose Sectis. This was used only as a last resort because Sectis sought to cut the corruption out of the Order by cutting the individual out of the Order."

Obi-Wan frowned. Mace's tone carried a graveness that seemed belied by the simple explanation of the ancient ritual, but Obi-Wan was unsure what he was missing. Plagued with a heavy sense of foreboding Obi-Wan let the recording continue.

"However, Sectis is not simply an expulsion from the Order. It is a complete and total severance from the Jedi and its ranks. Someone suffering under Sectis would no longer be welcomed by any Jedi. They would not receive help or assistance. They would not be spoken of or to. Their names would be erased from the halls and public records. Their former masters would disavow them. Their padawans would be assigned new masters even if their apprenticeship was complete. Their very Force prints would be obliterated from within the Temple. After Sectis, the corrupted Jedi would not just be dead to the Order, it would be as if he or she never existed.

"But that is, perhaps, the kindest element of the rite." There was a long pause as if the Master was trying to pry the words out of his own mouth. "As I said, this is not simple banishment. It is a severance… from the Order and… from the Force. Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon has been severed in this way. That is why I could not answer your questions, why I could not tell you what had taken place. Know that the Council did not choose this for him. Qui-Gon requested it and, despite the fact that never in the history of the Jedi had anyone ever requested Pravus Sectis, it was granted. I've included the original text surrounding the rite, but I know it will be of little consolation or comfort." Mace sighed deeply.

"Obi-Wan, during the past year Qui-Gon… changed. He… I don't know how to explain it. I remember what he was like after Xanatos. What he was like after losing Tahl, but this time… I don't know if there is any coming back for him, especially now that he's… he's Force blind, but if there is anyone that can help him, it's you Obi-Wan.

"Since I have already broken the Code and a half dozen other rules another violation or two will not hurt overmuch. I have included the various Council, mission, healing, and psych reports regarding Qui-Gon's state of mind over the past year. I don't know if they will help, but…

"For what it's worth, I am truly sorry, Obi-Wan. Neither you nor Qui-Gon deserved to walk the paths that have been forced upon you. The box I gave you conceals a false bottom. In the compartment you will find what is rightfully yours. Rules be damned."

The recording ended and the small cabin was filled with a seemingly palpable silence. Pale fingers, trembling with cold and a sense of foreboding, carefully traced the edges of the box in his lap. With a slight pressure to the nearly invisible indentation, the floor of the box popped askew. Obi-Wan removed the false bottom only to find himself staring frozenly at the glinting casings of two familiar lightsabers.

Part I – Inevitable Conclusions

Obi-Wan pulled his jacket tightly around his lean frame, struck by yet another chill. The cold had been unrelenting, worsening with each passing hour and day until he felt frozen to his core. He had been travelling from planet to planet, spaceport to spaceport, crisscrossing the hyperspace lanes for over the near tenday.

At first, Obi-Wan was able to slow the degradation of Master Windu's mental reinforcements through meditation, but as his shields and support structures became increasingly compromised, so had his ability to forestall the inevitable. Within five days of leaving Coruscant, Obi-Wan was a shivering, sometimes gibbering, mess alternating between states of dull numbness and intense panic. He chose to ride through the worst of the panic attacks within the close quarters of his cabin aboard yet another shabby transport. Had he been travelling alone in a single person vessel he might have fared better, but as it was Obi-Wan had few credits and was therefore forced to make his way on ships teeming with other lifeforms. As a result, it was a daily push against his limits for the young man to retain his sanity. His only comfort came from the two cylindrical weights concealed in an inner pocket of his jacket and even that small comfort came at a terrible emotional cost.

Obi-Wan's thoughts had grown heavy and dark ever since he listened to Master Windu's succinct explanation of what had occurred just prior to his arrival at the Temple. He had listened to the short recording numerous times. He had read and reread the thoughtfully included translation of the Rite of Pravus Sectis and he had reviewed a significant portion of the year's worth of reports and assessments of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.

It was the content of many of those readings that led to his most spectacular brooding sessions.

Though an effective field agent in years past, Master Qui-Gon Jinn is, at present, incapable of performing competently in the field. It is the recommendation of this healer that Master Jinn be removed from active service until such time that his mental state is deemed stable enough for unsupervised field work.

Obi-Wan had been forced to read that portion of the soul healer's report several times as his mind vigorously rebelled at the notion that Qui-Gon Jinn could ever be anything less than competent, less than amazing, when it came to his field work. Qui-Gon was a legend in the Temple, even among the youngest initiates. Obi-Wan had known, throughout his apprenticeship, what a dominating figure he had to keep pace with and, though his personal failure was expected, perhaps even preordained, he had always sought to avoid disappointing the great knight that was his master.

Given the numerous diplomatic incidents and complaints from planetary parties through their senate representatives, this Council is left with no other choice than to follow the recommendation set forth by Master Ras-da and remove Master Qui-Gon Jinn from mission status and teaching rotation. It is the Council's fervent hope that, with time and healing, Master Jinn can emerge from this imposed sabbatical and resume his duties as a Jedi.

Removed from missions and teaching. Obi-Wan shuddered as comprehension washed over him yet again. The Council's ruling was recorded by Mace himself which only hammered home for Obi-Wan the seriousness of Qui-Gon's perceived failings. But diplomatic incidents? Complaints? The Council's report was simply inconceivable. In his years as Qui-Gon's padawan, Obi-Wan had never seen the great man so much as lift a utensil contrary to the dictates of etiquette. Qui-Gon was a paragon of appropriateness when it came to his missions. Even if his choices were sometimes unorthodox, much to the annoyance of the Council and the chagrin of his apprentice, Qui-Gon never approached his duty casually or without thoughtful regard. But Obi-Wan had also read some of the mission reports, all submitted by the man himself, and as much as he wanted to, Obi-Wan could not ignore the grossly erratic conduct carried out and described in perfectly damning detail by Qui-Gon Jinn himself.

The Grand Patron insisted that I return to the negotiation table, but I refused. I was determined to find where the man had hidden him for I was certain I saw him at the Royal Gala. I called the Patron a liar and stormed out of the assembly. I ignored my training and my duty to follow a selfish, self-indulgent flight of fancy. I have no excuse for my behavior save that, at the time, I was certain it was him.

There were passages like that scattered throughout Qui-Gon's mission reports. These cryptic references to sightings of an unknown individual caused Obi-Wan many a sleepless night as he racked his memories for the possible someone for whom his master searched. The only name that came to mind was the same name that haunted so much of his apprenticeship: Xanatos. But that was impossible. Xanatos was dead. Obi-Wan had seen the man's end with his own eyes. Who then could engender such desperate passion within his former master's heart? There were times, in the still of the night when the ship was deep in the hyperspace wash of streaking stars, that Obi-Wan would entertain the idea that Qui-Gon was searching for him. The thought would spark a warmth in him that radiated from the center for his chest out towards his toes and fingers, temporarily driving out the aching chill in his bones, but then his mind would drag forth all the reasons why that particular scenario could not be true. His faults and foibles would be enumerated in his mind's eye in stunning detail utterly annihilating the false hope before it ever took root.

And afterwards, Obi-Wan was always left feeling far colder than before.

Despite the many efforts of myself and my staff, Master Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to cooperate in any of his healing sessions. He is either combative or completely withdrawn electing not to answer any questions or engage in meaningful dialogue of any kind. Recent visits to the Master's quarters has revealed that, most days, Jinn passes his time under the influence of various intoxicating potations. His quarters and personal habits display a growing lack of care for order or hygiene. All evidence points to the conclusion that Jinn is unstable in the extreme. Given the time that has elapsed since the precipitating incident, it is my professional opinion that Qui-Gon Jinn is unlikely to recover from his trauma and should be considered for permanent relocation to an appropriate facility.

Obi-Wan reread the last sentence of Master Ras-da's entry. The report had been made less than a ten day prior to his return to the Temple.

…Jinn is unstable in the extreme.

Obi-Wan put down the datapad and closed his eyes.

Qui-Gon Jinn is unlikely to recover from his trauma…

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open as another memory surfaced in his mind.

Master Qui-Gon doesn't have a padawan.

No padawan. Skywalker was apprenticed to Master Yoda. Garen had told him so on the way to Coruscant. Was this somehow linked to the traumatic event that had affected Qui-Gon so? Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. There were several Council and mission reports that he had yet to read in their entirety as all his preliminary scanning indicated nothing towards the mystery he was trying to solve… but maybe he hadn't been investigating the right mystery. Obi-Wan picked up the datapad and quickly inputted his search terms: Skywalker : Padawan : Jinn.

Obi-Wan waited as the few dozen files were reviewed and sorted then finally the small device emitted a satisfied beep indicating the completion of its task. Only one file was listed. Obi-Wan clicked the file and a Council transcript populated on his screen.

Jedi High Council Session

Sealed Records – Council Eyes Only

Master Qui-Gon Jinn regarding Anakin Skywalker

YODA: Requested this audience you did, Master Jinn.

JINN: Yes, Master. I have come to speak about the future of Anakin Skywalker.

(indecipherable grumblings)

WINDU: This Council has already rendered its decision on Skywalker to which you have made your opposition known. There is no further need for discussion.

JINN: Things have changed since last we spoke. My… situation has changed.

KOON: We are aware of your… situation, but that does not address all of our concerns.

GALLIA: Qui-Gon, with all that has happened recently, do you not think it is best to wait before discussing taking another…

JINN: Forgive me, Master Gallia, but you misunderstand. I am not here to ask that Anakin be my padawan learner.

(indecipherable mutterings)

MUNDI: Then what are you asking, Master Jinn?

JINN: Only that Anakin be trained by someone. Despite all that has… has happened, it still seems clear that a child that powerful must be trained.

KOON: He has already formed attachments.

PIELL: And he is full of fear.

BILABA: And anger.

JINN: Yes, but he is also still a child with a child's mind and a child's fears. Surely, if nothing else, we can teach him to confront and control his emotions in a way that keeps him in the Light.

YODA: Believed you did that he was the Chosen One. Still believe, do you?

(17 seconds of silence)

JINN: I… no longer trust my initial... judgment.

YODA: Hmph.

(3 minutes 54 seconds of silence)

WINDU: The Council has heard your arguments and agrees with you regarding the fate of young Skywalker. The child is too powerful to be left untrained. To do so would risk his safety and the safety of others.

YODA: My padawan, young Skywalker will be. Keep him in the Light, we shall.

JINN: Thank you, Masters.

(10 seconds of silence)

YODA: Something else you require, Master Jinn?

JINN: Yes, Masters. I was wondering if you have come to a decision regarding my last request.

GALLIA: Master Jinn… Qui-Gon, you have only recently recovered from… a rather severe trauma. It is wise that you should give yourself a chance to heal, to meditate and seek the guidance of the Force before returning to the field, but the time you ask for,

JINN: With respect… Adi, it is the recent trauma, as you so put it, that demands I give it all my attention, all the time it requires however long that may be. I must to do this.

(6 seconds of silence)

YODA: Granted, your request is. Allow you this time, the Council does for now. Hopeful it is that find for what you search you do.

WINDU: May the Force be with you, Qui-Gon.

JINN: And with you, Masters.

End Session

Sealed by Council Member Grandmaster Yoda

Hundreds of swimmers are killed during high tide in the sapphire pools of Enit-sel Six. The sparkling azure waters twinkle and pulse like a living, liquid blanket of a thousand stars suspended in a velvety, warm medium that caresses the skin leaving trails of pleasant tingles in its wake. But the beautiful waters hold a deadly secret in their cerulean depths. The firefly lights that make the waves dance in dazzling brilliance are also the same non-sentient beings that quietly condemn star-dazed swimmers to a watery tomb. It is the delightful buzzing, tingling sensations that kill them, the excited sparks gliding across the skin that conceals the paralyzing venom of a trillion tiny bites. Legs, arms, and other appendages began to slow, churning sluggishly through the water and it is then the swimmer realizes that something is wrong. But of course, by then, it is often too late. The toxin dulls the lungs, silences the heart and in a haze of confusion the once joyous swimmer slips beneath the rolling crystal surface with an expression of grim bewilderment because, though the swimmer understands that air is needed, that it is an immediate requirement to redirect the swift course of events away from its rapidly, inevitable conclusion, the swimmer simply cannot reconcile the moment with the fact that he or she is dying. And so, they slip away from the floating world above never quite comprehending why.

It is a feeling Obi-Wan Kenobi could sympathize with.

Obi-Wan let the datapad fall from his fingers as if it contains the dreaded toxin of the Enit-sel water dancers. And maybe it did because he was paralyzed. The transcript of the Council session is clear: Qui-Gon renounced his claim on Anakin Skywalker. The boy was not taken from him. He was not compelled to recant the statements made that fateful day in the Council chambers. And yet he did. Why? And there was that word again, trauma. What the trauma mentioned in the healer's report and the one the Council spoke of so hesitantly one and the same? What had happened to his master after he left the Temple? What calamity befell him post his desertion? Was it something he could have prevented? Could this new, unknown tragedy be laid at his feet as well?

Obi-Wan shook his head in attempt to clear the choking fog mudding his thoughts. Nothing made sense anymore. His mind was like a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that failed to fit in tongue and groove fashion and were instead contradictory and antithetical. Obi-Wan picked up the forgotten datapad and searched through Mace's materials again. This time, he had a certain date in mind.

After extensive evaluation, it seems clear that Master Jinn's recent mental trauma is indeed the result of the violent termination of the training bond. As the Council is aware, bonds can only be severed in one of three ways: mutual dissolution, death of one party, or unilateral disseverance. While the former is known to generate little negative effect, the latter two phenomena are often associated with substantial mental trauma. Jinn's recent symptoms and affect corroborate the theory that his padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, chose to independently severe the bond between them and his inexperience in such matters resulted in even greater damage than such a severance would usually produce. Though the damage of psychic trauma has been dealt with and Jinn is expected to make a full recovery, it is unclear what lasting effects may remain.

A surge of bile rushed up the back of Obi-Wan's throat forcing him to close his eyes to quell the sudden nausea. It was his fault. He had done this! The datapad fell from his hand again, this time forcefully discarded as he wrapped his arms around himself. He rocked slowly back and forth where he sat, a low and powerful moan racking his frame.

… Hopeful it is that find for what you search you do.

Shame and guilt twisted in his gut adding fuel to the churning pool of nausea. His fault… His fault… This was worse than before, so much worse. He had hurt his master. Wounded him in a way no one else could. Oh gods… Oh Force…

…after you left, Master Qui-Gon stayed in the starmap room. He would just… sit there, meditating I guess. It was months before he went on missions again… I think… I think he was looking for you.

The Force around him lurched and the small cabin began to tilt and spin on its axis. Obi-Wan stumbled from his cot, fumbling his way to the small 'fresher his fingers clumsily latching on to the duraplast waste evacuation basin just a heartbeat before the contents of his latemeal make an unscheduled reappearance. For seemingly immeasurable minutes, he heaves and groans as his stomach exhausts its limited food source and resigns to ejecting mouthfuls of acidic bile. When the worst of the nausea finally abated, Obi-Wan's throat felt like the tender tissues had been laid bare before a Tatoowinian sand storm. The space between his temples throbbed painfully in tune with his heartbeat and his muscles felt liquid and heavy. Obi-Wan sank to the floor, his back to the wall his knees pulled tightly to his chest. He brought his head down to rest upon his crossed arms, hiding the tears that streamed unbidden down his cheeks from the harsh 'fresher light. No sound escaped his lips as silent sobs wrack his body causing him to tremble in the unnatural quiet.

The deck plating in his cabin trembled slightly as the transport vessel touched down on the landing dock. It had been several hours since Obi-Wan first laid on the 'fresher floor, but he hadn't returned to bed. Instead he remained in the cramped space, huddled in on himself as if the curled position could somehow truly protect him from the horrors of his discoveries. He felt as paralyzed as the swimmers of Enit-sel Six and just as doomed, but there was no confusion here. No disconnect between events and the feeling dread stealing icily through his bones. He had brought himself to this dark place, through his actions, through his incompetence, through his selfishness. But it was more than that that clawed at him. He had hurt his master. Wounding him in a way no other could, no other had.

Not even Xanatos had been that cruel.

Obi-Wan pulled tighter into himself, squeezing shut his eyes as he tried to quell the tempest raging within his skin. He lay there, shaking, thinking and not thinking for some time still until a mechanized voice cut through the damning quiet around him.

"Last debarkation call for Gathegi City, Gathegi. Please exit the vessel now and thank you for choosing Star Lady Ergo-Liners."

The tiny, feminized voice repeated the message in Huttese, Durese, and Rodese before lapsing into silence. Obi-Wan was out of time. Though he felt he was unable to escape from the dissonance of pain and numbness that held him on the floor, he somehow was able to get to his feet, collect his meager things, and move out into the corridor. He had no memory of moving down the gangway, the stares he invited from his swaying, nearly stumbling progress, or the whispers of disgust and disapproval of those who clearly thought that he was just another drunk spacer slinking his way through the galaxy. Obi-Wan noticed none of this as he moved like a recent reanimant, shambling blindly through the darkened alleyways of the seedy streets sprawling out from the spaceport.

It was not the type of neighborhood Obi-Wan would have chosen nor was it the type of place he would have expected to find his former master residing in, but Mace was very clear that, given Qui-Gon's limited credits and resources and the destination of his transport from Coruscant, this port of call was the most likely place to find the former Jedi. Additionally, both he and Mace knew that the trip to Gathegi would have depleted most of Qui-Gon's credits, forcing the obvious conclusion that the man would be lost somewhere within the poorest districts of the capital city. Mace also had mentioned Qui-Gon's proclivity towards intoxication would also support this theory, but Obi-Wan still had had his doubts when the Councilor suggested that. In almost a decade of apprenticeship, Obi-Wan had never once seen his master drunk. The man was too much of Jedi to allow such a loss of control. Then again, the man discussed in the healer's files seemed to have little in common with a Jedi. Still, Obi-Wan could not reconcile what he had read with the man he had known.

None of those past thoughts, however, were present in his current mind. In fact, his mind was curiously void of specific thoughts, only feelings filled him and none of them were good. His mind was not on the moment, but on the maelstrom, his body mechanically moving on its own volition with no input from a place of reason or care.

Then something did catch his attention. A disturbance was gathering to his left. Muffled sounds that soon exploded into cacophony as the battered door to a dingy pub swung open. Obi-Wan stopped in tracks as three massive humanoids shouldered their way through the tight portal holding something large and oddly angled between them. With a sudden movement, the object was thrown clear of the group landing in the open street with only the slightest sound, but it was a sound that was unmistakable. A soft "omf!" had been muttered and it was then that Obi-Wan realized that what had been ejected like trash was actually a person. One of the trio stepped forward and spit on the poor creature still lying on the curbside.

"That will teach ya, offworlder!" he barked. His comrades joined in for a few last insults before all three turned around and reentered the pub. Suddenly alone except for the individual at his feet, Obi-Wan was at a loss of what to do. Whatever had happened in the bar was none of his business, but this was a person laying in the gutter a mere meter away from him and probably injured.

With a quiet, but resolved sigh Obi-Wan stepped forward kneeling down beside the being.

"Ser?" he called out tentatively unsure if his assistance would be welcomed. When no response followed, Obi-Wan's concern increased. He gently touched the shoulder of what he was close enough to now to recognize as a human male.

"Ser? Are you alright?"

Again only silence was his answer. Very worried now, Obi-Wan risked turning the man over. The face was a mass of lacerations and nasty bruises. It would appear that the others had roughed him up before finally tossing him out. Already much of the man's face was swelling from the tissue damage and broken capillaries, but it wasn't the injuries that caused Obi-Wan to gasp aloud.

It was the recognition.

Body broken and left to bleed into a gutter, he had found Qui-Gon Jinn.