Disclaimers: No infringement of copyright is intended.
Summary: Obi-Wan finds himself working without his Master, and
finds things he did not expect.
Betrayed
a prequel to "Padawan" and "Yes, Master"
part one
It was another dirty, noisy spacedock. Obi-Wan reflected that
in his seven years as a Padawan he had seen enough of such
spaceports that, should he ever need another career, he could
qualify as a janitor for any spacedock in the system.
He kept his thoughts to himself, however, as he followed his
Master through said dock to find those who would be meeting
them. The centralised government on Dartoin was sending its
military to serve as liaison, as this was, so the Jedi had been
told, a military problem.
Several crates of matibutyloxide had disappeared during
transport to a military base. The compound, more commonly known
as Mati-Bam, was, as its nickname implied, an explosive. It was
a moldable, slightly sticky compound whose properties made it
possible to shape it and put it almost anywhere.
A dab of paint, and it was also very easy to hide.
There were no clues as to who had done it and the government
was worried. Terrorists would be thrilled to have the compound,
but none of the known subversives seemed to have possession of
it. The government was stumped, so someone had called in a few
favours and thus, here were the Jedi. Qui-Gon had said nothing
about the mission during their trip other than to caution
Obi-Wan to keep his lessons in mind.
Obi-Wan hadn't yet decided what that otherwise-silence
indicated unless his Master simply didn't know enough about the
mission to give him any specific reminders. Dartoin was not a
planet the Jedi had been to in several generations and the
files on its society and customs were sketchy. They knew it was
a typical inner-system planet, reasonably technologically
advanced and populated mostly by humans. For particulars they
might find anything, but there was no reason to think they
would find anything unusual.
As they left the main hanger, Obi-Wan spotted four uniformed
figures facing their way. The one in front came to attention as
they drew near, and snapped a quick salute. Qui-Gon nodded his
head slightly, in acknowledgement. "Colonel Dering?"
"Yes," the man replied without a glance towards Obi-Wan. The
other three soldiers were watching Qui-Gon and the area around
them. Obi-Wan did nothing to get their attention. He listened
as the Colonel introduced his other men, and invited them to
accompany them to Headquarters.
Obi-Wan began to feel slightly invisible as they made their way
across the capital city. Colonel Dering spent the time giving
the Jedi Master a brief update on the seriousness of the
situation -- giving no details but stressing who, in which
governmental positions both here and on Coruscant, wanted this
mission completed quickly.
It wasn't until they arrived at the large, bland building that
Obi-Wan realised just what his status for this mission was to
be.
Colonel Dering turned to look at him for the first time, but
spoke still to Qui-Gon. "I'm sorry, Master Jinn... but
regulations prohibit a minor from entering our military
installations. It won't be possible for your apprentice to
accompany you on our investigation of this theft."
Obi-Wan hid his surprise. He felt Qui-Gon's surprise, but his
Master merely nodded. According to Jedi standards he was not
technically a minor -- but obviously Dartoin had differ
standards. Obi-Wan didn't attempt to correct the man.
The Colonel went on. "We have made arrangements for you to stay
at the hotel across the railway." He pointed at a more or less
nondescript building across the way from where they stood.
Public transport rails were interlaced between them, and
Obi-Wan wondered how one was supposed to get across from one
building to the other. There were no bridges, and the trains
were speeding by with barely a break between them. Colonel
Dering continued, almost condescendingly, "Perhaps he could
speak to the hotel clerk. I imagine they have maps of the city;
he could find something... educational to do while we're
working."
Had Obi-Wan not felt his Master's own brief displeasure at the
man's words, he would have spoken up then. Instead Obi-Wan said
nothing as Qui-Gon turned to him. "Go ahead to the hotel,
Padawan. You may consider your time your own. Learn what you
can."
Obi-Wan accepted his Master's directions with a short bow then
walked away to find passage across the array of rails. His
Master's instructions could be taken as Colonel had intended --
if you didn't know Qui-Gon Jinn. Obi-Wan knew what he had
meant. Regardless of Colonel Dering's instructions, Obi-Wan
would not be left out of the investigation; he would
simply be investigating from the other side of the fence. Or
railway, he amended.
He heard and felt Qui-Gon going with the officers into the
building. His Master was calm and focused. He seemed mildly
put-off that Obi-Wan had been summarily sent away, but Obi-Wan
believed it to be more for the attitude shown towards a youth
than any discomfort for losing his apprentice's presence at his
side.
Obi-Wan smiled to himself as he considered his role in their
mission. Learning what he could meant spending time with the
locals, hanging out where he could overhear gossip. That
meant hanging out where people went to unwind.
It wasn't often he got anything resembling time off. Even when
they spent time at the Temple between trips, there were
exercises and lessons to be had. Hanging out with other
Padawans and the youngest Knights ended up being impromptu
sparring sessions and bullsessions which instructed as much as
entertained. But now, even though he was working, he would have
to work by relaxing and hanging out.
As he surveyed the area around the railways, he frowned. There
was no obvious way across the rails. There were no people
making their way, to show him where to go. Seeking the Force,
he quickly found what he sought and he followed the path it
showed. There was an underground tunnel beneath the railways
which, once one saw it, was still well-hidden from view.
The hotel was clean and very impersonal. It appeared to cater
to planetary-locals rather than foreign visitors. Obi-Wan
assumed most aliens ended up at places nearer the spaceports.
This might work better for him in obeying his Master's command
to learn more about the theft. One of the few things they had
been told was that security at the spacedocks made it almost a
given that the theft was by locals and that the Mati-Bam was
still planetside.
Obi-Wan went to the front desk and was greeted with a warm,
polite smile. "How may I help you, sir?" the man asked him in
what almost sounded like direct contrast to the way he'd been
dismissed by the officers.
"Good afternoon. I am told we have been given a room -- the
name will be Master Qui-Gon Jinn."
The man began typing on a small pad. "Yes, Master Jinn--"
Obi-Wan smiled. "I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, his apprentice. My Master
will be checking in later."
It was interesting, from an objective sociological viewpoint,
to observe how the man's demeanour changed. It was slight, and
nothing one could point out to claim offence.
But it was clear. Obi-Wan was no one this gentleman had to
impress. Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes and
levitate the man.
But he got a key, signed his name, and informed the man there
would be no luggage -- apparently a novel concept. Obi-Wan went
to find the room, leaving the man still standing there,
blinking in bewilderment. They had the room for a week; Obi-Wan
had to stifle another urge to tell the man that Jedi often
worked naked and they didn't have any taboos about that, did
they?
Checking the room out took little time. Wandering through it,
Obi-Wan acquainted himself with the available amenities,
including the view from the window. There were no air-borne
transports, but the streets were full and the windows he could
see into showed scores of people going about their daily
business. Standing there, he considered what he should do next.
'Learn what you can.'
Easily said, but where to begin?
They had been given very little information concerning the
theft; they had been told, upon receiving their assignment,
that the Dartoin seemed to be trying to keep the theft covered
up. That was understandable; there was no need to cause panic
if the matibutyloxide could be retrieved without it.
But everything they did know was dependent on working
with the military -- who they ought to meet and which
installations they would examine for clues. Access and
introductions were to be arranged by their liaison as well.
None of that would do Obi-Wan little good on his own. Obi-Wan
smiled. It wouldn't stop his Master from expecting results.
Even if he weren't successful, Obi-Wan needed to do
something if only to demonstrate his ability to conduct
such investigations. Preferably the right something.
He closed his eyes and used the Force.
Bringing up an mental impression of the mission, Obi-Wan
focused on his goal of locating the matibutyloxide, then
relaxed and waited.
He felt a stir.
As if following some indistinct impulse, he turned and removed
his robe. He folded it and left it on the bed. Next came his
outer-tunic, tugging the ends free from the belt and lifting it
over his head. Part of him was wondering why he was doing this.
The rest trusted the instinct which said it would be necessary.
Dressed in only his tight undershirt, pants, belt, and boots,
he left the room. Force-trained instinct led him out of the
hotel, down the street, and into the city. He walked quickly,
knowing his destination was some distance to the north, though
he had no idea exactly where or even what that destination was.
He went past what appeared to be respectable businesses, more
huge, sprawling offices, and restaurants geared for the
respectable working class. He stepped across an invisible
border, though, when he crossed another mishmash of railways
and found himself somewhere else.
The buildings here were dirtier and more run-down. Bright,
gaudy signs proclaimed the names of the businesses here, and
the people on the sidewalks were dressed and coifed to impress
another sort of mentality than respectable and conservative. At
one shop with clothing displayed in its windows; Obi-Wan heeded
a wordless instruction from the Force, and stopped and went
inside.
He had no idea what he was looking for, but his instincts
guided him and he found himself looking at a rack. He reached
out and picked up a vest. It was long and full... Obi-Wan
realised that if he wore it, it would hide his Jedi's belt and
lightsaber completely. He bought it and put it on.
As he continued on his mysterious way, he realised the colours
and mismatched prints of the vest eased him into the crowd more
than his clean, white Padawan's uniform had. Another block away
and he no longer saw those brief glances that asked who was he,
and why was he on the wrong side of town.
He walked on, and the city grew more run-down. Both buildings
and people showed less and less pride -- or just time and money
-- invested in their upkeep. There were people his own age on
the sidewalks now, he suddenly realised. Youths, and old people
who acted like they had no where else to be.
Obi-Wan frowned, and was wondering why he had been brought here
when he spotted his destination. It was a small building with
wildly painted walls and a heavy-looking, recessed door. The
sign above it said only "Sutden". He had no idea what that
meant, but he knocked. A slit opened and two red eyes peered
out at him.
"Yeah?"
For a second Obi-Wan had no idea what to do. Mind trick? It
didn't seem appropriate, somehow. Instead he narrowed his eyes,
tilted his head slightly, and said in a confused tone, "I'm
sorry... I'm not sure this is the right place."
There was silence, and Obi-Wan wondered again what he was
doing. The Force was unhelpful, his instincts simply telling
him to go inside.
The person staring at him through the slit in the door suddenly
laughed. Obi-Wan heard a click, then the door was swung open. A
hand motioned him inside. As he stepped through he realised
there was a forcefield across the threshold; as soon as he was
inside the music, smoke, and heat blasted him.
A club. Obi-Wan grinned. He hadn't been clubbing in months,
since the last time he and four other Padawans had snuck out of
an evening training session and headed for the surface of
Coruscant.
The club the Jedi Padawan usually went to, however, was much
tamer than this one appeared to be. Bodies were jammed together
on the dance floor, often not so much in pairs than in melding
and gyrating groups. The music pounded at his temples and
chest, and vibrated into his feet through the floor. The smoke
and scent of who-knew-what hung in the air, obscuring the
ceiling and, he suspected, everything else once it had been
stinging his eyes for a while.
Obi-Wan smiled. All right, Force! Even working, he could have
some fun, here. The type of place his Master would barely
approve of, for pure entertainment. Obi-Wan moved towards the
dancefloor, trying to make out individual bodies in the jumbled
mass. Arms, heads, and swirling colours made him give it up and
he pressed on.
The Force nudged him, and he angled towards on section of the
dance floor. There was a boy there who looked to be about his
same age, though there were lines on his face and emotions
flowing from him which made Obi-Wan realise the boy was no
innocent, nor did he care to be.
Obi-Wan went up to him and the boy smiled. He reached out,
tugged at Obi-Wan's arm, and pulled him closer into the swirl.
Obi-Wan had no idea how long they had danced. Fast, furious
music had pounded out song after song, often with no real
breaks inbetween. Obi-Wan never tried to exchange words with
the boy, knowing any reply would only be heard with the help of
the Force and for some reason he did not want to reveal
himself.
Fortunately his training held him in good stead, allowing him
to breathe evenly and feel only the slightest exhaustion when
his acquaintance finally dragged him away from the dancefloor.
They wended their way through people, chairs, and tables. At
one the boy snagged a cup and downed whatever was inside before
continuing on.
Obi-Wan found himself being taken into a long hallway, and
suddenly the music was dimmer, the smoke thinner, and the
crowds... occupied. Couples, trios, and something he didn't
want to figure out, were lined up along the walls. It was
obvious what they were doing.
What he was about to be doing. He had only a moment to ask
himself if this was really what he wanted to be doing,
when the boy turned and kissed him.
His body answered the question with a resounding 'yes!' as he
returned the kiss, both with mouths wide as they grappled for
something purely physical. Anything more was something they
wouldn't get in a dirty hallway with a stranger, but neither
seemed to mind. Obi-Wan held his companion still with his hands
on the boy's face, continuing the hungry kiss. He asked
himself, asked the instincts which led him here, if this was,
in fact, where he was meant to be.
'Yes.'
'Huh,' Obi-Wan thought. 'Long as I don't have to explain it to
Qui-Gon.'
He let the boy drag him towards the wall, leaning himself up
against it and pulling Obi-Wan to press up against him. 'Never
let it be said I ignored the will of the Force,' Obi-Wan said
to himself as he felt the boy's erection already hard against
Obi-Wan's hip.
Obi-Wan ground his hips against the boy's, hearing the groan
and realising only then that they had yet to release their
kiss. He leaned away, gasping for air, and felt hands digging
into his arms and yanking him back.
The boy was desperate, Obi-Wan could feel it pouring out of him
as strongly as the hormones urging them both into the wild
embrace. Hands began tugging at his clothing; the mouth locked
on his own began biting, teeth pulling at his tongue. Deep
inside his lover's throat Obi-Wan heard the urgency building in
soft moans and growls.
Obi-Wan responded equally, fighting his way past a tight belt
and loose shirt tails to find skin. He grabbed onto bony hips,
pulling them towards him. The boy's mouth found his again,
demanding more even as he moved again to bite at Obi-Wan's jaw
and neck. Obi-Wan gave all he could, pressing himself closer
and grabbing his companion roughly, yanking at the waistband
and nearly slamming the boy back against the wall.
That was apparently just what his companion was waiting for.
Spurred into a near-frenzy, the boy had his pants open and was
shoving Obi-Wan's hand down inside them before Obi-Wan could
think.
As Obi-Wan's hand closed on the hard, hot cock, the boy tensed
and grabbed Obi-Wan's head. A tongue pressed inside Obi-Wan's
mouth, and every stroke of his hand was matched by a thrust of
the tongue. Obi-Wan heard himself moaning, speeding the motion
of his hand and closing his eyes as his mouth was similarly
plundered.
Obi-Wan heard muffled shouts of passion; he could smell the sex
and sweat from the other lovers around them. He grew
distracted, and realised dimly that this was not the place he
would have chosen. He continued the motions regardless, and the
boy suddenly let go and leaned his head back. His eyes rolled
as he shouted.
Obi-Wan held him there, one hand on the boy's shoulder and his
legs on either side of his lover's. The boy shouted again, his
body shaking, and suddenly he was coming in violent spasms.
Hands gripped at Obi-Wan's shoulders, hanging on tightly as the
orgasm ripped through. Obi-Wan watched distantly, his own
arousal having died somewhere unnoticed along the way.
He watched, oddly amused and not so oddly dispassionate, as the
boy slumped against the wall. For several moments he stood
there; Obi-Wan felt the tremors in his legs as he fought to
stay on his feet. Obi-Wan left his hand and legs in place,
holding his companion up until he opened his eyes.
Dazed, almost happy eyes looked at him a moment later.
"Wow. Thanks."
Obi-Wan half-smiled. "You're welcome."
"Oh, hey lemme..." the boy caught Obi-Wan's hand as he reached
down to re-fasten his clothing. He stepped away from the wall
and grabbed a towel that had been hanging on a bar. It was
filthy, and smelled of semen and musk and a dozen other things.
But Obi-Wan let his companion wipe off his hand with a corner
of it, and said nothing.
"I'm Dirion." The boy held out a hand. Obi-Wan took it with the
hand which had just been wiped clean.
"Ben."
Obi-Wan blinked, wondering why he'd given the name. It was a
nickname he'd used as a child, when he'd crawled around the
Temple pretending not to be the Jedi student everyone expected
so much of, but just a little boy who wanted to find out if he
could climb on the statues in the gallery without breaking
anything important.
But something had made him do it, no doubt the same something
that had brought him thus far. Obi-Wan just returned Dirion's
grin.
"Cool. Come on." Dirion led him back into the main room, into
the pounding music and smoke. They didn't head for the dance
floor this time, instead they stopped at a table. There were
four other kids there, who greeted Dirion with waves and
smiles. Dirion didn't introduce Obi-Wan over the noise.
Obi-Wan wondered how they were going to communicate at all,
then realised quickly -- they weren't. No one tried to say
anything; they just sat back and consumed whatever appeared on
the table before them, dialed up from a screen in the center of
the table.
One girl and boy across from him alternated drinking with
necking, and the other two just watched the crowd and exchanged
bored looks with the others.
Obi-Wan wondered what the point was.
Dirion handed him a mug of something. It smelled like vinegar
and was neon blue. Obi-Wan checked his instincts -- surely he
wasn't supposed to drink it?
Dirion was looking at him expectantly. 'This had better
lead to something good, Force,' Obi-Wan groused and took a
deep, quick swallow.
It tasted like vinegar -- until it hit his stomach. Then it
burned and the fire spread all the way to his fingertips.
Obi-Wan blinked, and grinned at the mug. "Wow."
He felt Dirion nudge his arm, and looked up to find the boy
grinning widely. Dirion raised his mug in a toast and Obi-Wan
clanked his own against it. This stuff could taste as bad as it
wanted to. Obi-Wan had a feeling he was going to love it.
part two
When Obi-Wan opened his eyes, he decided that, yes indeed, he
was going to love it. He had never in his life been so drunk,
remained in control, and avoided a hangover the next
day.
However, when he checked his wallet, he discovered he was about
twenty credits poorer. The drinks were not cheap. He wondered
whom he had bought drinks for, since he was fairly sure he'd
only had three.
He was fairly sure he had remained reasonably coherent, but
then again, he didn't recall how he'd undressed and climbed
into bed. He looked around and saw the hotel room he and
Qui-Gon had been given.
His Master was not present, and by the luminous dial of the
timepiece, Obi-Wan saw it was late afternoon. His Master was
probably somewhere working with Colonel Dering. Obi-Wan pushed
himself upright, hoping he could find a gallon of water nearby
-- the only symptom he'd noticed so far -- and saw a folded
piece of paper.
"Padawan -- please shower before coming to bed tonight. Call
when you awaken."
Obi-Wan sniffed himself. Ew. He smelled like Sutden.
And there was only one bed....
Obi-Wan sighed, laughed ruefully, and dragged himself out of
bed. He would have to make sure he came home slightly less
drunk, tonight -- he glanced out of the window -- tomorrow
morning.
It didn't take him long to get showered and dressed in clothing
which his Master had obviously sent through the 'fresher and
folded for him. He grimaced. This was not the way he wanted to
spend their stay here, even if he had had a tremendous
amount of fun once he'd downed his first mug of whatever.
Dirion had dragged him back onto the dance floor at some point;
later they had all gone upstairs where the forcefields had made
it possible to talk.
There hadn't been much talk, but Obi-Wan had found he had
enjoyed the company. Much different from that of his age-mates
at the Temple, and vastly different from his nearly-constant
companion, Qui-Gon Jinn.
He called his Master on the com-link and got a beeping, which
told him Qui-Gon did not wish to be disturbed. There was,
however, a recorded message.
"Obi-Wan, as of yet we have found nothing. Let me know if you
find anything of use."
Obi-Wan recorded a message in reply, letting his Master know he
would do so. Then he checked his belt, ensuring he had done
nothing too stupid and left something important behind, then,
with an excited grin, headed out of the room.
The walk to the Sutden was as long as before, but he knew his
way this time and the Force did not cajole him to hurry. When
he arrived, Dirion and the others were hanging outside. Dirion
grinned when he saw Obi-Wan.
"Hey! Benabi!" Dirion turned his name into some slang Obi-Wan
didn't understand, but the arm around his shoulders and the
escort towards the door, he did.
Dirion took a credit-piece from each of them and dropped them
in a box. The door was opened and they all filed inside.
Obi-Wan noted that his first visit must have been 'on the
house' and was glad to know how to get in on his own.
Dirion kept his arm on Obi-Wan, and guided them all upstairs.
They found chairs and settled in: Dirion and Obi-Wan together,
Muria and Deli together, and Cora and Stufio sitting apart.
Cora sat heavily, then sighed. Obi-Wan felt somewhat sorry for
her, but knew she had made her own choice to come this evening.
Cora was pregnant, and if his instincts were at all accurate,
she was due within a month.
He surreptitiously sent her a gentle wave of support with the
Force, subtly so that she would not notice anything more than a
relaxation explainable by simply sitting down. He watched her
smile grow more genuine, then Dirion was handing him a mug and
asking for a five-credit piece.
Obi-Wan handed it over. This trip could easily become
expensive. It was a good thing he didn't have to worry about
where those credits came from. He brought the mug to his lips,
reminded himself that after the first three swallows the smell,
taste, and tingling on his tongue would no longer matter, and
took a drink.
"Gaugh!" He waited as the blue liquid drained into him. "What
is this called, anyhow?" Obi-Wan was glad they'd gone directly
upstairs this time. He needed to find out why his instincts had
insisted he meet them, and he couldn't do that by dancing and
having casual sex in the back hall. He was pretty sure, anyhow.
Dirion grinned. "Blue Vinegar."
"You're kidding." Obi-Wan looked at the mug. It was apt, he'd
grant that. But surely it had a name. Something obscure,
or exotic, or....
"What else could you call it?" Stufio interrupted his
thoughts.
Obi-Wan conceded he had a point, and took another drink. One
more swallow and he'd be enjoying it. He hoped he would be able
to stop in time to remember his Master's instructions to gather
information. And shower.
He took a third drink and smiled.
"Ben, why haven't we seen you around Sutden before?" Deli
asked, her bright eyes shining with interest, but, Obi-Wan had
a feeling, little intellect.
"I didn't know it was here," he replied with a faint smile.
"Until yesterday."
"Oh. Are you from north?"
Obi-Wan didn't have a clue what she meant, but he shook his
head, fairly sure that whatever 'north' was, it wasn't
Coruscant.
She frowned, and Dirion looked at him and asked, "What do you
do, then? If you don't work down here; you don't live down
here?"
"I'm a shoemaker," Obi-Wan replied impulsively, with a smile.
Deli wrinkled her nose. "A shoemaker?"
Dirion and the others laughed, Muria rolled his eyes. "He's not
a shoemaker, Deli. Droids make shoes."
Deli nodded, eyes going wide as she looked at Obi-Wan. "Wow...
that's deep. So you feel like a droid? Call yourself a
shoemaker."
Obi-Wan controlled his reaction to that; the others did not.
They laughed delightedly, but Deli hardly seemed to notice. She
continued bouncing her head slightly up and down, as if
weighing the matter in her head and helping it to settle there.
Obi-Wan took another drink of his blue vinegar. The
conversation turned, then, to the droids and drones of the
world. Brainwashed printouts, Muria called them, people who
could have had a life but chose to bend their heads to society.
They all agreed with him, and for the remainder of the night
they catalogued the ways in which their lives, hard and unsure
as they were here in the northern edge of the city, were better
because they were free.
Obi-Wan found it fascinating, even found himself chiming in at
times, relaying in vague terms the way he'd been ignored and
disregarded simply because of his age. It was nothing like what
the others were describing, but he had seen enough that he
could relate to what it might be like.
Finally they called it a night -- Dirion found they were out of
credits and Obi-Wan had no intention of revealing his own
cache. He was still reasonably in control, and if he stayed
here he'd just have another drink, and then he'd probably end
up flinging himself at his Master in drunken lust.
He stopped at that thought. Then he shook his head, laughing at
himself. If he had tried such a thing that morning, Qui-Gon
would have said something. In his note, at least, politely but
firmly correcting him.
Like telling him to shower first.
Obi-Wan stopped again.
Nah.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly, then said cheerful goodnights
to his companions, and headed back to the hotel.
He was able to make his way with a good measure of steadiness,
entering the hotel with a breezy smile for the front desk clerk
and finding the correct room without any trouble. He did check
the number on his key three times against the door, just to
make certain.
When he opened the door, he looked carefully around for his
Master. He saw no sign of him, and stepped inside cautiously.
He stifled the urge to call 'yoo-hoo,' and contented himself to
searching the small room.
He relaxed when he found Qui-Gon was not there. Heading towards
the bed, Obi-Wan wanted to crawl underneath the blankets and
pass out for a while. Halfway there he recalled his Master's
orders, and reversed his steps for the bathroom.
He dropped his clothes on the floor -- tripping himself up only
three times. Once with his pants, once with his boots, and once
with his belt. As he stepped out of the fastened belt, he
looked at it and tried to figure out why it seemed so weird.
He shrugged and headed into the bathroom. The shower stall was
in the corner, two large towels were hanging over the bar
nearby. One towel was slightly damp. Obi-Wan grinned and took a
towel, setting it on the counter nearer the shower door.
Reaching in, he turned the water on, adjusted the temperature,
then stepped inside.
He found soap -- at least something that bubbled and foamed
when it got wet -- and Obi-Wan began lathering himself
vigorously. He got his face, arms, and shirt all washed before
he tried to start in on his legs. He kept losing his balance,
though, and finally took a handful of the soap with the Force,
and applied it to himself while bracing his arms against the
shower walls.
'Jedi training,' he thought smugly. 'Comes in handy.'
It wasn't until he tried to rinse his legs that he realised he
was seated on the floor with no recollection of how he had
gotten there. He shut off the shower with the Force and felt
around for the towel.
He blinked when he got a faceful of fluffy, absorbent cloth. He
started to dry himself off, then he noticed that the towel was
damp and realised he must have already dried himself off.
Grinning at the efficiency he'd shown, drying off so quickly,
he struggled to his feet and looked for the bed. He frowned
when he found that it was nearly on the other side of the room.
With a sigh, he began the long trek over.
He finally caught up with the itinerant piece of furniture and
lay down. Snuggling something soft and warm, he passed out.
When he opened his eyes he found himself staring at the
ceiling, wondering why his eyes felt like sand had been poured
in them. He rolled over on the bed and snagged a pillow, trying
to go back to sleep.
Then he opened his eyes again.
He hadn't been snuggling Qui-Gon last night, had he? That warm,
soft thing he'd grabbed onto? Which had muttered something
about soaking the sheets, before Obi-Wan has lost complete
consciousness?
Obi-Wan sighed. Apparently three was still too many blue
vinegars. Two, he told himself. Tonight it will only be two. He
levered himself upright, looked around for the note he knew
somehow would be waiting for him.
'I should thank you for taking a shower. Next time wait until I
return so I can ensure you survive it.'
Obi-Wan buried his head in his hands.
That night Obi-Wan kept himself to only two mugs of blue
vinegar. His new friends didn't comment when he refused a
third, and Obi-Wan got the oddest feeling that any behaviour at
all would be accepted. They teased each other -- Deli for
taking everything seriously, Dirion for picking up strange boys
in the club -- but they apparently accepted it all without
deridation.
It was a feeling that grew stronger as the third evening
progressed. They sat upstairs again, and Obi-Wan tried his best
to say nothing that was an outright lie. However, neither did
he offer any real truths about who he was or why he was there.
The one time he considered telling them, his Force-trained
instincts slammed into him so fast he'd accidentally gulped the
last of his blue vinegar in one swallow.
He had blinked, wished the Force would take to leaving messages
with a service, then dove back into a conversation about what
he thought was a local band, but might have been a cash crop.
He and Dirion spent several hours on the dance floor again,
though Dirion didn't invite him into the back hall again.
Obi-Wan wasn't entirely sure if he were relieved, nor if Dirion
were waiting for him to do the inviting, next.
He decided that tonight was too soon to worry about it. Instead
he concentrated on simply enjoying himself and waiting for some
clue as to why he was here simply enjoying himself.
When the group left that morning, stumbling outside Sutden to
blink dazedly into the sunrise, Obi-Wan re-considered his plan
once more.
Maybe only one blue vinegar.
He considered calling Qui-Gon to come pick him up and save him
the trip back. He was drunk, he knew he was drunk, and
the hotel was at least an hour's walk away.
On the other hand, he had so far missed getting lectured on the
proper behaviour of a Jedi Padawan with too much time on his
hands. Obi-Wan sighed, waved goodbye to his friends with
promises to meet them again that night, and turned towards the
south side of the city.
As he walked, he debated stopping and calling his Master.
Eventually he decided that he didn't need to risk annoying
Qui-Gon -- besides which he had managed this far without much
more than falling into a wall, handing out what he thought was
a one-credit piece to a begger but must have been more from the
old man's response, and losing his lightsaber.
He'd found it on the other side of his belt, but for a
heart-pounding moment he'd been sure his Master was going to
kill him.
It wasn't until he reached the hotel and had to let a
staffmember open the front door for him that he thought maybe
calling Qui-Gon would have been better.
He stumbled in, ignoring the expression on the clerk's face --
Obi-Wan certainly wasn't helping his reputation any.
That thought stopped him short, and he suddenly and
sincerely regretted having done this. Unfortunately he
hadn't realised he was so drunk until it was too late.
'Should have found out what blue vinegar was, before drinking,'
he told himself in his Master's tones. Just because you're
acting like you're on vacation is no reason to stop being a
Jedi. Especially when you aren't really on vacation.
Feeling worse now than he had tripping over the rails and
bruising his knee, Obi-Wan made his way meekly to the hotel
room. As he felt for his key, the door opened and Qui-Gon
looked down at him. Obi-Wan blushed and looked at the floor.
Qui-Gon took him by the shoulder and guided him inside. Obi-Wan
tried very hard not to trip over anything, and failed
miserably. Qui-Gon kept him on his feet, however, and steered
him towards a chair. Once seated, Obi-Wan relaxed the part of
his concentration he'd been trying to use to retain his
balance.
Qui-Gon sighed, and crouched before him and picked up Obi-Wan's
foot. Obi-Wan blinked as Qui-Gon removed his boot. He watched
as his other boot was removed, then when Qui-Gon reached for
his vest, asked, "Master? What are you doing?"
"Avoiding damage to yourself and the hotel room," came the
reply.
Obi-Wan tried again. "Aren't you... mad?"
Qui-Gon gave him a look which Obi-Wan couldn't, in his current
state, decipher. But he said, "No, Padawan. I believe you have
already come to whatever conclusions I would have counselled
you to find."
Obi-Wan flushed, knowing his Master was right. He just wished
he had come to those conclusions earlier. Yesterday, if not the
day before. He realised his Master had stripped him of all but
his pants, and was now trying to pull Obi-Wan to his feet.
"Master?" he asked, trying to help by standing up. Qui-Gon
caught him and gave him a look which said the help wasn't
helping.
"Yes, Obi-Wan?" he replied patiently, however.
"Do you love me?"
"Of course, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said as he propped Obi-Wan
upright with the Force, and removed the last of his clothes.
Obi-Wan leaned into the wall behind him, thinking that it
felt like his Master, and not just any random Jedi's
manipulation of the Force. He smiled, but shook his head. "No,
I mean, do you love me?"
He found himself naked, and giggled. This was going well.
Naked, Qui-Gon on his knees before him.... Wasn't there
supposed to be something else, though? One of them should say
something.
"Come, Obi-Wan. You will need a shower before you fall asleep."
Obi-Wan didn't think that was quite it. Qui-Gon took him by the
arm and gently half-steered, half-carried him towards the
bathroom.
He did his best to help with the shower, until Qui-Gon firmly
took Obi-Wan's hands and placed them at his sides and told him
to stand still.
Finally, after being washed and dried -- making him feel like a
five year-old, which made him giggle again -- his Master aimed
him for the bed. Obi-Wan yawned and went willingly, grabbing at
Qui-Gon's arm as he laid down.
"Do you?" he asked again, closing his eyes and revelling in the
touch of his Master's hand on his face. He sighed, and the next
thing he knew he was alone in the room, alone in the bed, and
the sun was going down again.
On the fourth night, and every night for a week after, Obi-Wan
drank no more than a half mug of Blue Vinegar. He shared it
with Dirion or Stufio, after having read up on the properties
of the drink.
He had also taken his Master's advice -- yet another note, when
he had awakened the evening after being given his shower -- and
eaten a large breakfast/dinner and performed his meditations
before leaving the hotel. It served to center him, and provide
him with the fortitude to withstand the alcohol.
For a week he spent his time with Dirion and the others at
Sutden, dancing, talking, and drinking. Each morning he made
his way -- soberly -- to the hotel and snuck into the room
without waking Qui-Gon. At least Qui-Gon let him think he
wasn't woken as Obi-Wan came in, showered, and climbed
carefully into bed.
Each evening when Obi-Wan opened his eyes there was a new note,
telling him nothing had been found. Obi-Wan left his own notes,
saying the same thing. Obi-Wan was beginning to think the Force
had misled him -- rather, he had misunderstood its direction,
or missed whatever he had been there for when it had happened.
But every time he thought of not going back to the club, his
instincts prodded him. So he went, he partied, and he waited.
Dirion had finally gotten tired of waiting for him to make the
next move, and dragged him off the dance floor one night and
into the back hall. The hallway looked exactly the same as it
had the first time, though the bodies were, he hoped, different
individuals. He noticed that some of the doors along the hall
were open.
Dirion dragged him towards one open door and let out a gleeful
yelp when it proved to be empty. He took them inside and closed
the door firmly. "Do you mind?" Dirion asked as he stepped
forward.
"Why should I mind?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised. Dirion was
undoing his pants, leaving them up, but open.
"Don't know," Dirion winked. "But it's polite to ask." He
laughed, then launched himself at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan caught him, and found himself being groped by hands and
mouth. It was rather like being mauled by a large cat --
without the claws, and with some rather arousing noises coming
from his companion. Obi-Wan grabbed onto Dirion and pulled him
closer, feeling behind him for the bed as he manoeuvred them
backwards.
Dirion didn't seem to mind, or notice, the motion. He just
continued his assault on Obi-Wan, apparently intent on
devouring every inch of Obi-Wan's skin. Obi-Wan stopped trying
to control the direction of their movement and fell back onto
the bed. Dirion landed inbetween his legs and grinned down at
him, eyes fairly glowing with arousal.
Obi-Wan swallowed nervously. As Dirion grabbed his hips and
yanked his pants down, exposing him from waist all the way to
the knee, Obi-Wan whispered a short entreaty that he survive
whatever was about to ensue. Then he grinned.
Or that he would at least die happy.
Dirion fumbled around in his back pocket and brought out a
small packet. He tore it open and squeezed something onto his
fingers. Obi-Wan stared, bringing his knees towards his chest
without needing to be asked. He was getting hard, and tried to
relax. From the way Dirion was eyeing him and panting, it
wasn't likely he would take the time to do this slowly.
Obi-Wan felt two fingers push inside him and he cried out. He
tried to move his legs up to wrap around Dirion's waist to pull
him closer, but his pants, still down around his lower legs,
got in the way. Dirion laughed, and responded by wriggling his
fingers.
Obi-Wan cried out again. He moved his hips, trying to push
against Dirion's hand. Dirion placed his other hand on
Obi-Wan's stomach, holding him down. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply,
and suddenly he was being stretched.
He tried to whimper, tried to make any sort of noise that
Dirion could take as encouragement. Instead he could only
breathe and grab onto the blanket underneath him, twisting the
cloth in his fists as Dirion jammed his fingers in deeper.
It occurred to him that in his readings on Blue Vinegar, there
had been a small notation to the effect that the liquid
heightened certain sensory experiences. Obi-Wan hoped this was
one of them, for if this were unenhanced, the rest of the sex
would surely kill him.
He finally gasped and shouted, "Do it!" in a moment when Dirion
held his fingers still. Obi-Wan didn't know why he'd done it,
didn't care, he just wanted more of what Dirion was momentarily
not giving him.
Dirion leaned over him, and nipped at his neck. Obi-Wan growled
at him.
"All right, all right! Give a guy a second...." Dirion grinned
at him again, and Obi-Wan tried to think of a way to make him
shut up and hurry.
Before anything came to mind, Dirion was kneeling on the edge
of the bed. Obi-Wan felt a pressure against his anus, then he
was being split open. Dirion slid in ungracefully, without any
warning or gentleness. He went in as far as Obi-Wan's body
would allow, then he pulled out, and thrust in again.
Obi-Wan cried out and tried to move, tried again to relax.
Dirion began thrusting a little faster, all the way, then all
the way out. Obi-Wan bit his lip as his body screamed for more
and did his best not to use the Force to give Dirion a push. Or
a pull. Or push and pull, a hell of a lot faster than he was
already thrusting.
Then Dirion was pressing down on him, covering Obi-Wan with his
body, and slamming hard inside him. Obi-Wan pushed his hips
upwards, rubbing against Dirion as best as he could, trapped
there underneath him. Dirion suddenly began screaming, crying
words Obi-Wan couldn't make out. They didn't matter; he was
finally thrusting faster, and Obi-Wan felt himself about to
come. All he needed was one... more....
Dirion froze above him, trapped in the tension of his orgasm.
Obi-Wan whimpered, still left hanging, and tried to reach
between their bodies to grab himself. Dirion moved again,
thrusting once, then he started to slip forward. Obi-Wan nearly
screamed in frustration as he tried to squeeze his hand in
between their bodies.
After another moment Dirion opened his eyes and took Obi-Wan in
his hand. Within seconds Dirion had jerked him off, bringing
him to orgasm that left him panting, aching, and feeling very,
very empty.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and wished he were someplace else.
part three
Obi-Wan didn't stay long at the Sutden that night. When he
left, no one remarked on it, simply saying good-bye and see you
tomorrow and not asking why so early.
He headed back to the hotel, early enough this time that he was
able to catch a ride part-way on the train. He wanted a shower,
suddenly feeling a desperate need to scrub himself clean under
water as hot as he could stand.
He sighed at himself, knowing that there was nothing to be
upset about. It was nothing, really, just casual sex with a
casual friend. No reason to be upset, certainly no reason to be
ashamed.
But he wanted to strip himself down and hide under a blanket,
and tell himself that it hadn't happened. Whatever he was
doing, he trusted his feelings. They were telling him he was
still on the right path. Path to what, he didn't know. But he
had done what needed doing, even if he hadn't a clue what that
could be.
Subdued, he made his way to the hotel room he shared with his
Master, and keyed the door open. He found Qui-Gon sitting in
meditation in the center of the room.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and found himself relaxing. He left
his Master in meditation, though, and headed for the shower. He
dropped his clothes in a pile just inside the door, and was
glad to see they had been provided with fresh towels.
He turned on the hot water and stepped under the spray; then he
sat down on the shower floor and let it wash over him. He felt
exhausted. His brain was fuzzy, and he was tired and sore and
empty.
He grabbed the soap with a slight extension of the Force, and
brought it down to himself. He lathered it up and washed as
best as he could without standing up. His limbs were beginning
to feel like they were filled with wet sand. As soon as he had
everything soapy that he could reach, he tilted his head up and
let the water rinse him clean.
He sat there, eyes closed, for what felt like an hour. It
probably wasn't, because the water was still hot when he
finally shut it off. Obi-Wan struggled to his feet, grabbed for
a towel and tried to dry himself. He found it a too daunting of
a task, with his whole body now feeling like he'd spent the day
sparring with three Master Jedi. He wrapped the towel around
his waist and headed for the bed.
"Padawan?"
"Yes, Master?" Obi-Wan curtailed his bee-line for the bed, and
turned towards Qui-Gon. He propped his eyes open through sheer
willpower.
Qui-Gon said nothing, but smiled slightly. "Nevermind, Obi-Wan.
I shall just leave you another note."
Obi-Wan nodded, and took three steps, and fell onto the bed. It
was soft, and warm, and smelled of his Master.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face, not sure the next
morning if he'd dreamt the brief touch on his head.
Obi-Wan avoided going anywhere with Dirion but the dance floor
after that. Dirion didn't seem to mind, at least he didn't
mention it. Obi-Wan wondered for about the dozenth time what
Dirion was up to. Perhaps he was simply up to nothing, Obi-Wan
realised, and was taking things as they came. 'Party now, worry
later,' seemed to be the motto of a lot of the people
frequenting the Sutden.
One night Stufio nudged him. They were all sitting upstairs,
listening to the music and sharing mugs of daffa ale. No one
could afford the Blue Vinegar tonight, not even Obi-Wan. He
hadn't wanted to ask Qui-Gon for more credits, so he was down
to making his last ten stretch as long as he could.
He looked over at Stufio, and found the other boy giving him a
decidedly measuring look. "You wanna know something, Ben?"
Stufio asked after a moment.
"Sure," Obi-Wan shrugged.
"You're pretty tight with Dirion," he continued. "I figure that
means you're OK -- he's got good instincts about people. You're
no drone."
"Thanks." Obi-Wan had no idea where this was going, but he knew
by now what drones were and knew his friends disapproved of
them.
Stufio nodded and sidled closer, dropping his voice. "You
wanna know something?"
Obi-Wan didn't point out that he'd already been asked, and
already said yes. Instead he nodded.
"We've shown 'em." Stufio smiled, satisfied, and leant back.
Obi-Wan blinked. "Shown who?"
"Them." Stufio picked up his mug and took a long swallow.
Obi-Wan looked at the others to see if anyone had any idea what
Stufio was talking about.
"Them, the drones. The government. The ones who want to turn us
all into mind-slaves," Cora explained. "They think we're
useless the way we are. But we've shown them we're not."
"How?"
The four exchanged looks, then Dirion stood up. "We'll show
you."
They took him north, towards the edge of the city. None of them
said a word about where they were going, or why, but Obi-Wan
had a feeling it was something important.
They reached a block of warehouses, most of which appeared
abandoned for their original purpose. People had turned them
into living quarters, rigging power lines and scavenging
throw-aways for materials. They went inside one building which
appeared sparsely populated -- it looked to Obi-Wan like it was
about to fall down.
Dirion took a handlight off his belt as they made their way
inside, and led them through the debris and partially blocked
hallways to a room. He shone the light on several new,
gleaming, stacked crates. Each was marked "Med. AA4 Cofurs."
Obi-Wan felt his stomach hit the floor.
He'd just found the Mati-Bam.
Dirion was explaining. "I work for this trucking company, and
they make this big deal about how I'm not good for anyone but
lifting boxes. On account I dropped out of their high and
righteous schooling."
Obi-Wan nodded. He knew what had happened, now. The military
shipped certain dangerous items 'undercover'. Labeled as
medicines for a rural base in Cofurs, the Mati-Bam had vanished
during shipment.
Dirion continued, "We figured we could show them we have
brains; we have initiative. We just don't agree with them about
what to do with our lives. So we took some crates, and figured
sooner or later they'd come crawling around, asking where it
is."
Muria shook his head. "Only they hain't, yet."
Obi-Wan sighed. Brains, that was questionable. But it was clear
they had no idea what they'd stolen. "What do you intend on
doing?" he asked, in case they were ready to give up the prank
and return the goods.
Dirion shrugged. "Leave it, I guess. Show people what we've
done," he added with a grin.
"I'm sorry." Obi-Wan took his com-link out. Before he switched
it on, he added quietly, "If you leave now, they won't find you
when they arrive."
The five stared at him in varying degrees of shock. Deli seemed
the least surprised... but that was likely due to the fact that
she really didn't care what was going on. Dirion seemed
mostly disgusted as he turned immediately on his heel and
strode out. Deli and Stufio followed, looking betrayed as well
as puzzled.
Cora and Muria waited in the dark as Obi-Wan opened the
com-link.
"Yes, Obi-Wan?"
"Master, I've located the Matibutyloxide."
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Where?"
"I believe it would be easiest if you simply tracked my via the
com-link," Obi-Wan told him. He had walked here and could give
directions, but didn't know what sort of address the military
liaison would consider useful.
"We're on our way," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan left his com-link
open and set it on one crate. He reached out and took Cora and
Muria by their arms and guided them carefully towards the door.
"Wha--" Muria began, and Obi-Wan stifled the noise with his
hand. Neither tried to say anything more until they exited the
building.
Obi-Wan let them go, then, and started to tell them again to
leave. Before he could, Cora cried out, clutching her stomach.
Muria and Obi-Wan both grabbed her arms. Obi-Wan could feel the
ripples in the Force -- she had gone into labour.
"Get her in there," he directed, nodding towards a nearby
building -- not the one they'd just come out of.
Cora was moaning again, each sharper cry allowing Obi-Wan to
time her contractions. They half-carried her into the building
and through the first open door. Someone lived here, but was
not home at present. They placed Cora gently onto the pallet on
the floor, and Obi-Wan told Muria to find anything he could
which was clean.
He laid Cora back against a bundle of something, using it for a
pillow. All the while he spoke to her, calmly as he could, and
prepared to deliver the child.
"I'll send Muria back for the com-link, and arrange for you to
be taken to a hospital. There might be time--"
"No!" she interrupted. "No, please, I can't. They'll taken him
away from me."
"Cora," he began again, trying to soothe her.
"No. You don't understand. They'll take him and make him one of
them. I can't... I know I can't keep him but I've already...."
She stopped, fighting the pain again until Obi-Wan used the
Force to calm her. She panted, closed her eyes for a moment,
then looked at him squarely. "I've already arranged for him to
go to the underground clinic. He'll be adopted by a family
that's approved. A family that believes, like we do. They might
not have money or a pension from the state, but they'll have
jobs and a home. And they'll have their freedom. My son will,
too."
Obi-Wan nodded, knowing that, for the moment, keeping her calm
was more important than arguing the child's welfare. Besides,
he realised as she let him lean her back again, she was likely
right. All that he had heard and seen in his admittedly short
time in the north, told him that she was right. The south part
of the city was wealthy, secure, and lifeless. The north was
dirty, poor, and thrived with energy.
"All right," he told her. "He shall not be taken. I promise."
The words were out before he realised he meant them. Just as he
had let them escape the military's recovery of the stolen
explosives, he would do what must be done to preserve her son's
freedom.
Muria came back, then, with a towel and a pitcher of water. He
set them down. "You need water, right, to birth a baby? They
always say you need water."
Obi-Wan smiled. "Thank you, Muria. Now, please, sit at her head
and hold her." Muria did as instructed, and moved to sit beside
Cora where she could lean against him.
Obi-Wan propped her legs up, still speaking calmly and
encouragingly to her. He continued to use the Force to guide
her pain away, letting through only the urges her body was
sending to give birth. He detected no signs of distress from
the baby, and was glad to realise the birth would be an easy
one. Relatively speaking, he amended, glancing at their
surroundings.
He picked up the towel Muria had brought and saw that it would
not do. Obi-Wan pulled his vest off and removed his shirt,
which was mostly clean -- it had at least been sanitised
earlier that evening when he'd run it through the 'fresher.
Obi-Wan spread it across his knees in easy reach. Then he
returned all his attention to Cora.
With Muria holding her, the Force to shunt away the pain, and
all the medical training he'd received at the Jedi Temple, the
birth was almost a breeze. Cora remained quiet as the labour
intensified, straining to push and hanging onto Muria's hands.
Obi-Wan monitored the child and Cora closely, and soon Obi-Wan
saw the baby's head crowning.
Before he knew it, he was holding a screaming infant in his
arms and grinning like he was the father, himself. He suddenly
remembered he needed to cut the cord, and tried to think of
what there was available.
Of course. He knotted the cord, then removed his lightsaber and
dialed it down to almost nothing. With the shortened blade he
cut the cord easily. He shut the saber off and handed the baby
to his mother.
He ignored the look he was getting from Muria and got to his
feet. "Wait here," he said, and headed out of the room.
His Master would be here soon, and they had little time to get
Muria and Cora -- and child -- out of here. He got as far as
the main door, before he felt his Master's presence. As well,
he heard the engine of a military car arriving. He ducked back
and ran down the hall.
"Muria, you've got to get them out of here. The gats are here;
hurry!" He helped Cora get to her feet, holding onto her as
Muria tried to get her moving. Obi-Wan sent her what energy he
could, helping her to recover more quickly. Then he sent them
down the hall in the other direction, trusting Muria to know
the best way out of the area.
Then he hurried back to meet his Master, trying to banish from
his mind all surface thoughts of the five, so Qui-Gon would not
pick it up and mention them in front of the soldiers. He
thought of the Mati-Bam and how Colonel Dering would react to
its recovery by someone too young to have been cleared to
search for it.
He found his Master waiting in the hallway outside the room
where the Mati-Bam had been cached. "Padawan," his Master
greeted him, then he handed over Obi-Wan's com-link.
Obi-Wan knew he was waiting for an explanation. 'They ran, I
went after' was the first excuse that came to mind, but it
entailed lying to Qui-Gon. That, he would not do. He glanced at
Colonel Dering, who stepped out of the room with a nod. Several
soldiers were inside, Obi-Wan could see, some holding large
portable lights.
"This is it. We'll move it out now." Dering glanced towards
Obi-Wan, then said to Qui-Gon, "Thank you for your assistance."
Obi-Wan fought the urge to roll his eyes. He followed his
Master out of the building, then stopped when Qui-Gon turned to
face him. From his Master's expression, he knew Qui-Gon was
aware that something more had happened.
"Where are the ones responsible for this, Padawan?" his Master
asked.
Obi-Wan shifted from one foot to the other, then said simply,
"Gone."
Qui-Gon looked down at him expectantly. Obi-Wan didn't say
anything more. The soldiers were still moving about, carrying
crates out to their truck.
Colonel Dering stepped up, then, and spoke once more to his
Master. "It is all here, the crates are all unopened. I thank
you, Master Jinn, for your assistance in retrieving the
matibutyloxide. Do you have any information on the persons
responsible for its theft?"
Obi-Wan stood patiently, wondering why the man could not even
now look at him since he was the one the question should
have gone to. Qui-Gon turned to him, but said nothing, a look
of expectation asking the question again.
"I'm sorry, Master. Colonel Dering. I can't tell you who did
it."
He saw the slight change in his Master's expression and winced,
inwardly. Colonel Dering just scowled, and nodded. "I'll leave
a team to cover the area, we'll find who did it. Master Jinn...
with the matibutyloxide safely retrieved, your services will no
longer be required. Hunting down thieves is a task we can
handle, ourselves."
Obi-Wan hoped it was not, but he dared not do or say anything
more than he had already done.
As the Colonel moved away, Qui-Gon turned his attention
completely on Obi-Wan. "Why can you not tell them who stole the
compound?"
Obi-Wan looked down, but when he would have spoken, another
soldier walked near and he kept quiet. He couldn't risk them
finding out that he knew.
"Padawan?"
Obi-Wan flinched. 'Not now, Master,' he wanted to say. But he
couldn't even risk that much. Not with Cora and Muria still
possibly too nearby.
But the tone of his Master's voice was enough to make him want
to confess all, right there. Just to answer the disappointment,
explain away his master's belief that he had chosen badly.
"Come, Padawan." Qui-Gon turned, and began walking away.
Obi-Wan had to hurry to catch up and walk along beside him.
"Master," he began, as soon as they were barely out of the
soldier's hearing.
"They were your friends?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Uh... yes, Master. The ones I meet at--" He glanced back to
make sure, and bit his tongue. One of the soldiers was watching
them go.
"I see."
Obi-Wan whipped his head around to stare, dumbfounded, at his
Master's mild tone. Qui-Gon was going to accept it. He didn't
like it, didn't approve, and thought -- for Obi-Wan knew how it
must look -- that Obi-Wan had chosen his friends over the
mission.
But he was going to accept it.
"Master, please," he begged, grabbing Qui-Gon's sleeve. "I
didn't. It isn't how you think." They were half a block away,
now, and unless the soldiers has listening devices, they could
not overhear. Obi-Wan looked around again and decided that more
distance was probably paranoid, but still not too bad an idea.
He urged Qui-Gon to keep walking with him, farther away.
Qui-Gon followed, frowning. "Obi-Wan, what is going on?"
Obi-Wan began talking quietly, as fast as he could. "Master, I
know who did this but I can't turn them in. You don't know what
will happen to them!"
"On the contrary, Padawan, I know quite well. Colonel Dering
was quite clear."
"He was? Then... then you know?" Obi-Wan shook his head.
Qui-Gon couldn't know. "What did he say?" Obi-Wan asked,
suspiciously.
"It depended, of course, on the motives of those involved.
Imprisonment, had they planned on using the substance.
Education and counselling, in any event. Nothing objectionable,
Padawan. You need not protect your friends," he added, frowning
still.
Obi-Wan shook his head. "That's not true. Master, that isn't
what happens. I've seen it -- they showed me friends of theirs,
people they knew, people they'd once known -- who'd been caught
and 'educated'. They aren't educated, they're brainwashed.
Turned into civil, obedient, mindless drones."
"They showed you this?" Qui-Gon didn't sound convinced, but
Obi-Wan knew he would continue to listen.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I know how it must sound. But Master, I've
been down here for two weeks, where the government can't always
reach. They meant no harm by what they did. They didn't even
know what they'd stolen! They don't deserve -- or need -- to
lose everything. Their freedom, their minds...."
"Padawan, are you certain you are not over-stating their case?"
Obi-Wan stopped and stared at his Master. "Fifteen minutes ago
I helped one of them give birth. I held her son in my hands as
he took his first breath. If I thought for one moment he would
be better off in the south, in... in that," he pointed
to the sterile buildings towering in the distance. "Then I
would gladly give you and Colonel Dering their names. I would
have kept them there, for that matter, and let them be caught.
But I do not. So I let them go."
Qui-Gon regarded him for a long moment. Obi-Wan continued to
face him, not quite going as far as crossing his arms in
defiance. Qui-Gon walked beside him silently, then asked
calmly, "How is the child?"
Obi-Wan blinked. "Fine. Healthy, at least. They've... they've
taken him to a clinic where he'll be given to parents who can
care for him. Not...." He looked south. "Not state-approved,
but good folk all the same."
"I see."
Obi-Wan waited. Qui-Gon no longer seemed upset, but....
"Master?"
Qui-Gon began walking again. But the tension and disappointment
had faded and Obi-Wan found himself smiling. "What was it
like?" came the unexpected question a minute later.
"Wha-? Oh! Master, it was incredible. Like holding the Force in
my hands, only... only... I don't know. More so. It was...."
Qui-Gon laughed, once, as he trailed off.
"It was amazing, Master," Obi-Wan concluded, unable to fully
express how it had felt. Even under the circumstances of the
child's birth, and though he had had no time to reflect on it
til now, it had been... amazing. "I can't describe it."
"Yes, Obi-Wan. I know."
"You do?"
Qui-Gon nodded. As they walked back towards the south end of
the city, towards the spaceport where they would board their
ship and head for home, Qui-Gon began to tell him of one of the
times he had assisted at a birth.
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