Master Apprentice
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Birds of Passage
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Archive: Yes please! Whoever wants it; just let us know where it ends up.
Pairing: O/Br
Category: angst, non-Q/O, Obi/Other, Bruck/Other
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: some speculation regarding events in Ep.III but nothing you couldn't have worked out from watching the first trilogy.
Summary: in a galaxy where the Jedi were hunted almost to extinction... whatever happened to the AgriCorps?
Disclaimer: not ours, alas, no matter how many toys we buy. Everything here belongs to George.
Feedback: of any variety is very much appreciated, but not essential -- we'll post anyway! We've suffered for our art, now it's your turn....
Notes: this started out as a bunny of RavenD's that she
coaxed Aeshna into playing with at some point in 2001.
Well, Aeshna has never claimed to be the fastest writer
around, so it's only just getting to see the light of day
some 18+ months later! Still, better late than never....
This may eventually spawn a little series, but as Obi won't
be in any of those, they'll probably just end up hiding
somewhere on Aeshna's website.
Thanks to Dee and to Jedi Rita for betaing!
# # = Wookiee
"Water, potable water enough for the season, my friend, and
two cases of dried reston berries."
The shopkeeper's single black eye rolled wildly as they
began to discuss price. This part was easy, familiar -- a
few moments of haggling and they'd come to terms, just as
they had for what? Four, five seasons now?
"Fine, I'll give you thirty sesteris and I want them
delivered to this address before the end of the evening."
"That can be arranged. You'll need to be back at your home
by sunset tomorrow, Wizard. You can taste it in the air --
monsoon's coming."
Monsoon, indeed! Ben Kenobi thought with an utterly
internalised sneer as he walked away from the stall. The
locals did have a sense of humour, he supposed. The monsoon
season lasted for days, the oppressive heat making it
dangerous to venture outside. The moisture farmers loved
it. It was the closest thing around here to humidity, but -
-
Ben stopped suddenly, shocked. Who in the...?
An odd sensation flowed through the Force, almost a hiccup.
Ben hadn't felt anything like that in years. He looked
around, reached out slowly. Force-users were rare and those
who would dare use their talents in the open were almost
non-existent. Not that there were trained Force-users any
more, not really. Maybe it was a fluke, too much heat, too
much worry....
Then it happened again.
The touch was odd, slightly clumsy, almost rough. Ben
walked forward, moving towards the disturbance. He needed
to know who it was, needed to know if they were looking for
him here, looking for the boy. He knew it wasn't Vader, but
what if he'd figured out a way to make Force-sensitive
clones? They could be anywhere, searching....
But there was something familiar in the echoes he felt,
something that felt more like comfort than danger. It
wasn't Luke -- even if Ben hadn't shielded the boy until he
had as much chance of being felt in the Force as a mentally
disabled Jawa, the child wouldn't have this level of
finesse.
He stopped next to a stall filled with a wide array of
items, everything from bootlegged brandy to clothing to
cheap crystal jewellery for tempting lovers. The merchant
peered up at his customer, greasy black hair falling into
his eyes as he handed over a package to a dark Human who
waved his hand and said, "That will be all. It was a
pleasure doing business."
The merchant nodded, his gaze glassy. "Yes, a pleasure."
The Force-user turned and Ben studied him carefully. Tall,
with deep, richly tanned skin, dressed inconspicuously but
well, heavy black tattoos covering his jaw and neck and
tracing along a strong cheekbone beneath blue eyes --
The shock of recognition hit Ben like a blaster bolt. He
was older, that was sure, definitely harder about the edges,
but those ice-blue eyes and that mane of white hair, those
were still the same. Even now.
Even after all these years.
Ben reached back, pulling his cowl down to cover his face
and moving quickly away through the crowd. "Relax, Ben," he
muttered to himself. "You're no one he's looking for, no
one he'd see." He stopped briefly to allow a young mother
to cross the street before him.
"Thank you, men'dhabi," she murmured.
Men'dhabi.
Old one.
Revered elder.
Ben sighed and smiled wryly, slowly moving through Mos
Eisley's crowded market towards the hostel room he had
rented for the night. He had lost the taste for shopping.
He could finish in the morning, after a few cold drinks and
a long night's sleep. After all, imagining old faces on
strangers was a damned silly happenstance, obviously he'd
been alone in the desert too damned long and he just needed
to get back to his room, safe in his anonymity.
He had convinced himself of what was going to happen,
convinced himself he was going to be fine, when Bruck Chun's
voice carried clearly over the crowd. "Kenobi? Obi-Wan?
Is that you?"
Ben froze, then cursed himself for his reaction. He should
have kept walking, should have ignored the shouted name.
Nobody had called him that in years, it was just another
part of his dead past, a ghost he had thought long since
lain to rest. He looked around to see if the name had
caught the attention of others. None paid him any heed, too
busy with their own concerns to notice the crazy hermit or
the pale-haired offworlder pursuing him through the early
evening throng. It was a small mercy.
"Obi-Wan?" A brown hand caught Ben's shoulder and he tensed
still further as he turned to look into a face he had not
seen in over thirty years, not since his own departure for
Bandomeer. He didn't want this, didn't need this, not in
the middle of the market, not with the price he knew he
carried on his head. If Chun was planning on claiming the
bounty.... "It is you, isn't it?"
Warily, Ben looked up into the other's tattooed features,
into the blue eyes, and found nothing but an honest
curiosity there, the emotion echoed in the Force. He
allowed himself to relax infinitesimally, trusting in what
his senses were telling him. Besides, experience suggested
that a hunter would not reveal themselves so easily. "Ben,"
he heard himself say, his voice pitched low. "My name is
Ben now."
Chun nodded. "Of course," he said softly, glancing briefly
around. "I'm sorry -- I just wasn't expecting to find
family here."
"Family?" Ben felt a stab of sorrow -- how long had it been
since he had thought of the Jedi in those terms? How long
since he had thought of the Order beyond himself and Luke?
"I... I'm alone here."
Blue eyes looked at him sympathetically. "It took me a
moment to place your signature -- I just caught a flash but
it...." Chun trailed off. "It's been a while."
"Thirty two years," Ben said quietly, trying to recall the
boys they had been then, when the world had been so very
different. They had hated one another, he could recall that
much, but childish disputes faded to nothing in the fact of
their current reality. "They sent you to the AgriCorps."
"And I daily thank the Force that they did," Chun told him
with a rueful smile that tugged at the patterns of the
intricate black tattoo. He glanced around at the crowd.
"Is there somewhere more private we can go? It's rather
public here and I'm really not used to the heat on this
dustball."
Ben chuckled softly at the plaintive request -- Chun was
dressed for more temperate climes, too clearly a recently-
arrived offworlder with his bright colours and uncovered
head. "I know a place." This was not a discussion for
uninvited ears and besides, he wanted the other man where he
could keep track of him. "Follow me."
The cantina was quiet, monsoon preparations taking the usual
barflies away from their berths, so there was no difficulty
in finding a quiet booth easily shielded from prying ears.
This was a risk, Ben knew, but Chun had shown no inclination
to either depart or attack, apparently content to play the
tourist as he took in his sun-baked surroundings. The lone
bartender, a tall, scarred Torshal who had arranged Ben's
room, nodded briefly to his tenant and cast an appraising
look at the stranger with him, gaze lingering on the blaster
strapped to one dark-clad thigh. The Jedi returned the nod,
a quick movement to let him know that he was aware, was
watching. Chun was an apparent lightweight compared to much
of the usual Mos Eisley clientele, however, and the barkeep
quickly returned his attention to the local network vid-
screen that sat behind the counter.
"Drink?" Ben asked as he guided his unexpected visitor to a
corner table, getting him seated on the bench. "They cater
for most tastes here."
"I'm sure they do," Chun replied, eyeing the array of flasks
and tubes that lined the wall. "Water, thank you."
Ben snorted. "Sensible man."
"I've not survived this long by getting paralytic in
spaceport bars, Kenobi." Chun raised a pale eyebrow in
amusement. "Not without back-up. And besides," he
shrugged, "after being out in that sun, I'm feeling more
than a little dehydrated."
Nodding at the practicality of that, Ben fetched a pitcher
and two cups, scowling at the cost of water at this time of
year. It was definitely better to buy in bulk.... Looking
across at his companion as he returned to the table, he
tried to remember the boy again, seeing the shadows of that
long-ago rivalry in the artistically patterned brown skin,
the colour a startling contrast to the silver-white hair, a
gift of genetics rather than of age and worry. So very,
very much had changed and not just in them....
Ben set the jug down with a thump, pushing one of the cups
towards Chun as he settled on the bench. "What brings you
here?"
"To Tatooine? Certainly not the weather...." Chun glanced
over to where the open door painted a shaft of ruddy
sunlight across the ferrocrete floor. "I'm here on a
trading stop. Leaving tomorrow."
"Trading? You're with a ship?" Ben frowned -- this could
complicate matters.
Chun's smile carried more than a hint of pride. "I'm the
pilot on the independent freighter, Tsunami Dawn. Private
ownership, small crew, mixed cargo, no regular route. It's
not exactly glamorous and the credits sometimes don't flow
as steadily as we might like but it's not a bad life."
Ben snorted softly. "How did you fall into that? The
AgriCorps --"
"The AgriCorps had pilots, you know. The Temple trains...
trained Initiates in all sorts of skills that could be
turned to more civilian uses." Chun sighed and looked at
his cup, then lifted the pitcher to pour for both of them.
"They just build on what they need and if you can fly a
seeder ship with the precision necessary...." He frowned,
glancing up at Ben. "I was second on a terraforming team
when everything went to hell, when the purges began. They
said it was just Jedi they were after but, well, most of us
didn't want to take the chance. We ran. By the time
Palpatine's hounds came after us, there was barely a Force-
sensitive left in the 'Corps and we're a lot harder to find
than Jedi. We're used to living as civilians."
"Where did you go?"
Chun's gaze was level. "The only place where the likes of
me were still welcome."
Realisation struck. "You're working for the Rebellion."
The darker man glanced around the cantina and nodded
shortly. "Someone has to keep the supply lines open for
them -- there are any number of ships out there doing the
same thing. A freighter might not be as exciting as a
fighter but we do our part. Food, guns, people, information
-- there's little we haven't carried." He smiled slightly,
meeting Ben's grey eyes. "If you want a ride off of this
rock, you just have to --"
"No," Ben said sharply, surprised by the sudden rush of
longing that flooded through him at the offer. "Thank you
but... my life is here now."
"It's not much of a life, Kenobi."
"It's safe. That's all that matters for now. In time,
perhaps, but for the moment...." He couldn't tell Chun
about Luke, about his true purpose on Tatooine. Rebel or
not, some risks could not be taken. Chun's mere presence
made things tricky enough. "For the moment," he said
firmly, "I belong here."
Chun nodded sadly. "Lying low is the sensible option for
the time being. I've seen some of what they do to Jedi...."
He shuddered. "This rock might be the armpit of the galaxy,
but it's not the most obvious place to look for fugitives.
Certainly not the most comfortable. A bit of care and you
could vanish in those deserts for a long, long time...."
Ben closed his eyes and sighed. "That's the idea. The
purges can't last forever."
A pair of Duros wandered into the cantina and Ben looked up,
eyeing them suspiciously. They seemed harmless enough but
could he be sure of them or of the dusty group of Bothans
that followed them in? Chun was part of a crew -- he didn't
know who they were or what they looked like, whether or not
they were a threat in their own right. There was too much
at stake here and he was already risking too much by even
speaking to Chun --
"Every stranger a potential assassin, Kenobi?"
Ben glared at the other man but Chun's expression was
sympathetic. "We've all been there, Ob... Ben."
"Some of us more than others." Ben frowned as a mixed group
of port workers clattered in, clearly at the end of their
shift. Shaking his head, he grabbed the pitcher and stood.
"Too crowded for this."
Chun pushed himself up, collecting his package from where it
had been resting beside him. "Where are we going?" he
asked, looking at the other drinkers curiously as they
dragged the barkeep's attention away from his vid screen.
"I have a room upstairs. There's more water, a little
food." Ben glanced at the pilot. "And it's private. This
isn't a conversation I want overheard. News travels fast
around here and there are fools who would kill you on the
strength of groundless gossip. I don't want to give them
something real." Turning on his heel, he started towards
the stone stairwell, reaching back with the Force until he
was certain that Chun was following. Good. The last thing
he needed was for the other man to make his escape now.
Even as a Rebel, he knew far too much.
Ben's lodgings weren't much to behold -- a room with a low
bed and a 'fresher unit, a coolbox on one wall and a small,
shaded window above a table that boasted two chairs, albeit
of differing designs. Chun seated himself on the edge of
the bed as Ben poured more water, setting the pitcher in the
coolbox to avoid evaporation. "It's safe to speak here?"
"Safer than the bar," Ben said quietly, seating himself at
the table. "Just keep your voice low and nobody should
hear."
Chun nodded, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked
across at the Jedi. "When did you come to Tatooine?"
"When the purges started," Ben told him, almost honestly.
"Things were politically difficult for the Jedi after the
Wars but we thought that things would settle." He laughed
bitterly and shook his head. "So much for prescience. We
never saw it coming. We didn't realise that Palpatine was a
Sith, muddying the Force for the seers, until it was far too
late...."
He took a deep breath and continued, his voice thick in his
throat. "I escaped, one of the few who managed to get off
Coruscant. They put a price on my head, same as the others.
A bounty on each 'sabre, knowing it was the one thing a Jedi
would never part with. We were respected once, feared,
honoured. Now we're nothing more than game animals."
There was silence for a few moments, then Chun stood,
walking across to take the chair opposite Ben. "We used to
see Jedi every once in a while, would help where we could or
where they would allow. There's not been many in the last
couple of years though." The pilot shrugged, picked up his
cup. "Gone to ground or to the Force. Vader's a thorough
bastard, I'll give him that."
Ben shot a look at the other man. He doesn't know, he
doesn't know, he told himself silently, over and over,
trying to bury the sudden surge of soul-eating guilt that
flooded through him. But it hurt, hurt so much to be
reminded of what he had unleashed.... "I envy you."
It was little more than a whisper but it was enough to make
Chun frown and look up. "Obi?"
"I said, I envy you," Ben told him, feeling something
crack inside as the words came. "Look at me! Look at
you. We fought so hard, so desperately to be padawans,
would have torn each other to bloody shreds if we'd thought
it would win approval. And for all those years, I thought
I'd won. I was the Jedi and you were nothing. Gone.
Beyond my consideration. I was the knight, the master, the
General. I had everything I ever wanted and I had to
watch it die around me...." Ben almost choked on the last
words, fighting to regain a calm centre that was proving
elusive. "And look at you. You're free, alive, you have
people who care for you --"
"Obi, I --"
"You won, Bruck!" Ben's voice was soft, breaking on an
edge of desperation. "All that time thinking that I was the
worthy one, the survivor, and in the end it was you that
the Force was looking out for...."
Chun smiled sadly, the movement shifting the intricate
tattoos. An awkward silence fell between them and it was a
few minutes before the pilot spoke again. "I didn't think I
was lucky at the time." Ben snorted and Chun looked at him,
blue eyes half-amused. "I sulked for almost the entirety of
that first year with the AgriCorps, couldn't see the worth
of what they were showing me, trying to teach me. Of
course, I was hardly the first sullen ex-Initiate through
their doors, and I cracked before they did. Once I'd
finally accepted that I wasn't going back, that no knight
was going to whisk me away to a life of adventure, I found
that I liked it." He shrugged again. "There's more to the
Force that the rigid control the Temple taught. And when
the purges came... I was grateful for the freedom."
"Freedom?" Ben was on his feet, pacing quick, nervous steps
across the floor as the conversation brought painful shards
of old hopes, old dreams to the fragile surface of his mind.
He wanted to cry for the boy he had been, so smugly certain
of his victory, so utterly blind to the fate that lay in
store for him. "I don't think I'll ever be free of this. I
have a duty --"
Chun stood, watching the other man as he moved around the
room. "Obi, you owe no duty to anyone but yourself now."
Ben glared at him, suddenly furious. "What would you know
of duty? You were never a Jedi!"
"The Jedi are gone, Kenobi!"
"No, I --" Ben stopped, rubbing a hand across his bearded
face and making an effort to calm himself before he said
more. He had said too much, far too much already....
"I'm one of those left. One of the few. I have a duty to
remember those who...." He trailed off, trying not to think
of what Vader had done to the Temple, to the children. If
he had only known, if he had only listened to those early
instincts....
"You said you were a master." Chun's voice was gentle.
"You had a padawan?"
"I --" Ben stopped as the question struck far too close to
his heart. He couldn't say it, couldn't tell him. He
swallowed hard, turned away. "Vader killed him."
Chun looked at him for a few moments, his blue eyes
unreadable... then he stepped forward and carefully wrapped
his arms around the Jedi. Ben stiffened, unprepared for the
sudden, silent act of sympathy. He had allowed nobody this
close in years, hadn't wanted, hadn't needed --
With a sigh that was almost a sob, Ben let himself to relax
into Chun's embrace. Too long, too long without the
comfort of another's touch. He couldn't, he shouldn't, he
mustn't... but it felt so good to press his face against
the other man's shoulder and to feel strong arms close about
him. So good to just remind himself that, for this moment
at least, he wasn't alone in the universe. That despite
everything, despite all that he had been and done and would
do again, someone understood, someone cared....
They stood like that for a while, Chun slowly stroking Ben's
hair, the back of his neck, soothing him as though he were a
frightened child. Ben accepted the gentle caress, letting
the frightened edge of his emotions bleed off into the
Force. There would be time for that later, more than enough
time, and the pilot's touch, the scent of his skin, were
stirring memories of other times, other men.... Ben felt
something close to a pang of loss as Chun finally released
him, letting the moment slide past before it could develop
into something more dangerous.
"Are you all right, Obi?"
"I'll live," Ben said roughly, his mind in fresh turmoil as
he turned away. Why was he letting Chun have such an effect
on him? The man just walked back into his life after three
decades and a billion deaths and shattered the dispassionate
shell he had spent years perfecting? He pulled open the
coolbox, trying to find something new to occupy his
fractured thoughts. "Are you hungry?"
Chun paused a few moments before replying and Ben could feel
the weight of the other man's regard in the Force. "I
wouldn't want to make you go short."
"That's not what I asked." Ben pulled a tray from the 'box,
strips of pale meat and dried, darkly mottled fungus arrayed
beside cakes of the pinkish grain that seemed to be the
favoured import this season. He dropped it onto the table.
"Eat, Bruck. It's been too long since I shared a meal with
anyone."
The pilot gave him a sad look but did as he was told,
returning to his seat to pick at the simple meal, a cantina
staple that had come with the room, freeing Ben from the
need to venture out any more than was strictly necessary.
The Jedi ate almost mechanically, barely tasting the faint
tang of offworld spices as he tried to remember the last
time he had had company beyond the wary Tuskens and the
verminous womprats that dwelled in the Dune Sea. It had
been so long, too long, not long enough....
Finishing the meagre meal, Ben leaned back in his seat and
closed his eyes for a moment, feeling tired and old beyond
his years. He had always known that his life would not be
an easy one, but how could anyone have foreseen this? He
should have taken Luke to Alderaan, should have let the boy
be raised with his sister, should have started their
Initiate training in the great halls of House Organa, should
have done something, anything, other than hide in the
desert like a coward. How much good was he doing here
really? How could he justify this solitary vigil when
others were out there fighting the Empire, fighting for
their freedom? He had shut himself away from the wider
world, had let himself fossilise out here in the sun-
scorched wastes of a minor Rim planet while the galaxy moved
on. Oh, Force, he could barely remember what Coruscant
looked like....
It appeared that young Obi-Wan should have been more careful
in what he wished for.
"Kenobi?"
Ben swore quietly at the concern in Chun's voice, angry at
himself for forgetting to shield his emotions -- it was too
easy to forget that those sent to the AgriCorps were trained
Force-sensitives in their own right. "It's nothing," he
muttered softly, shutting out the other man with one
empathic barrier after another, building his familiar shell
layer by careful layer. "Nothing that anyone can change.
Not now."
"I would never have thought you to be one to give up on
things."
Ben's eyes snapped open and he glared at the pilot angrily.
"What would you know about that? What do you imagine you
know about anything?"
Chun didn't flinch from the Jedi's furious regard. "I knew
a boy who didn't give up even after he'd been thrown on a
barge and shipped off to the farms. You're not a quitter,
Kenobi. At least you never used to be."
"Times change." Ben was on his feet again, pacing the room
as he tried to escape the tight pain in his chest. No, he
wasn't a quitter, not really, how could he be when Luke
and the fate of billions lay under his protection? But he
couldn't tell Chun that, no more than he could shut out the
guilty sense that he should somehow be doing more.... "My
life is here now."
"So you said earlier." Standing, Chun blocked Ben's path,
halting his nervous steps by way of near-collision. "I
meant what I said, Obi. If you want a ride off this rock,
you only have to say the word."
"I can't," Ben hissed, barely able to keep the edge of
pain out of his voice as he looked into the pilot's light
blue eyes, so close, too close in more ways than the merely
physical. "Things are different now, Bruck. Just believe
that. I'm not free to go. I can't just leave this world."
He shook his head violently and went to push past the other
man. "I belong here."
"Will you just listen to yourself?" Strong fingers grasped
Ben's arm, pulling him back, and he lashed out, suddenly
furious. Chun caught his hand before it could land its
blow. "You don't belong in this shithole any more than I
do!"
"Let go of me!" Ben twisted angrily, calling the Force to
him as he suddenly found himself pressed hard against Chun's
body. "You have no idea what I...." He trailed off,
staring into the tattooed brown face as the musky scent of
the other man's sweat filled his nostrils, scrambling his
thoughts as his body suddenly responded in a way he had
almost forgotten. "I...."
"Ben?" There was something new in Chun's gaze, something
curious, hopeful, honest, raw. Never breaking eye contact,
the pilot released Ben's arm and slowly raised a hand, brown
fingertips first brushing, feather-light, against one sand-
scored cheek before moving down to card gently through the
greying beard. Ben's breath caught in his throat, any
further complaint dying on his tongue as he found himself
leaning infinitesimally into the caress, the touch soft and
warm and strangely comforting as Chun stroked his rough-
furred face, a question in the blue eyes that Ben didn't
think he could begin to answer. Too long, it had been too
long, and he couldn't....
Slowly, so slowly, Chun leaned in, his gaze holding Ben's
until the last moment. The kiss was fleeting, the barest
touch of dry warmth, more query than true contact, and Ben
could feel the tickle of breath against his skin as he
almost unconsciously moved to reciprocate, sun-scuffed lips
alighting more firmly against Chun's smooth mouth before
pulling back, a spike of near-panic flaring as he realised
his vulnerability. "This is a mistake."
"Shhh," Chun murmured, his fingers continuing their gentle,
rhythmic caress. "It's all right, Obi, I'm not going to
hurt you, I'm not chasing any bounty. You're safe."
Another touch of lips, delicate, coaxing. "If you want me
to stop...."
Ben closed his eyes, his emotions conflicted even as his
hands moved up to awkwardly grasp Chun's arms, the old
habits of passion emerging from memory as his mouth opened
and he captured the warm brown lips. The stroking fingers
eased away from his beard and slid smoothly around to
insinuate themselves in his hair. The pilot cupped the
Jedi's head as he tentatively returned the kiss, letting Ben
dictate the pace in this careful exploration of touch and
taste, the Force flickering between them as clumsy curiosity
gave way to a slowly building lust. It felt strange to be
doing this, two grown men hesitantly feeling their way
around one another like nervous teenagers. If things had
turned out differently, if Chun hadn't been sent away, maybe
they would have lived this moment thirty years before....
It was Chun who drew back first, running his tongue across
kiss-swollen lips as he examined Ben's face with dilated
blue eyes. Panting, the Jedi returned his regard, startled
to find himself hard, ready, hungry, his body eager
despite the ever-present threat of danger. But it couldn't
hurt, surely, not for just one night? Chun already knew who
he was, where he was -- a problem that would yet need to be
addressed -- but in the here and now his body was screaming
for a release too long denied it, for a reminder that it was
still alive, still capable. He wasn't an old man, not
really, not yet, and he needed this, oh gods he needed --
With a growl, Ben shoved Chun roughly onto the bed, hearing
the other man's laugh as he hit the covers, hands already
moving to free himself from his boots, his dust-stained
clothing. Following his lead, Ben shrugged out of his
layered tunics, stripping away the worn belt and oft-
repaired leggings until he found himself naked, gazing down
at Chun's semi-clad form, at the dark tattoos sweeping and
curling across the exposed brown flesh. The pilot looked
back up at him, his movements momentarily stilled, then he
squirmed out of his dark trous, one hand freeing his blood-
heavy cock and stroking it to further firmness as grey eyes
locked with blue. Chun smiled hungrily, spreading his legs
a little in clear invitation. "Like what you see, Kenobi?"
Ben snarled and dropped onto the other man, his fingers
bunching in the thin material of Chun's undershirt as he
ground against solid heat. The Force shifted and sang
around them, energies building with the tension, with the
pulsing edge of need. It was different with a fellow
Force-sensitive, the physical union matched and enhanced on
levels that could never be explained to one who didn't
already know. Stripping away the last of Chun's clothing,
Ben swarmed across the pilot's patterned body, kissing,
biting, groping, feeling the thrill of sensation mirrored
and echoed and willingly returned. All hesitancy was gone
now, lost in the searing need to touch and taste and mark,
the years of solitude forgotten in the rush of a passion
barely remembered from youth.
They always had known how to get a rise out of one another.
His nerves singing an ever more urgent song, Ben pinned Chun
to the bed, hips thrusting aggressively as he rubbed his
slickened length against other's darker member. The pilot
let him, one hand grasping at Ben's shoulder as the other
wrapped around their cocks, squeezing and tugging in ragged
rhythm until the Force pulsated around and through them and
Ben came with a cry, followed a bare instant later by Chun.
They lay panting for a few moments, warm seed mingling
between them, then Ben rolled free with a groan. Too much,
too much, too easy to just lose control and he couldn't
afford to do that, no matter how thrilling the moment, no
matter how sensual the thrill of Force and the sight of the
man beside him, semen smeared across the decorated chest.
It couldn't hurt, surely, but --
A brown hand reached across, blunt nails scraping lightly
across Ben's furred torso as Chun's voice murmured, "Hmm,
I'd almost forgotten what it could feel like with
family...." The pilot pushed himself up onto one elbow,
letting his fingers play as he said, "You're not alone, Obi,
not if you don't want to be."
"What I want has nothing to do with it," Ben sighed. "It
never did."
"So you keep saying." Chun moved closer, leaning in to nip
at an ear as his hand drifted lower. "But sometimes it does
a body good to just let go and take what it wants, what it
needs. I can feel you, Obi, feel you in the Force. You
want this...."
"I know, but --"
"No buts, not now." The warm mouth covered Ben's once more,
smothering any further half-hearted protest. The Jedi let
himself sink into the moment, feeling the Force energies
building between them once more as spent bodies slowly
recovered and responded, their movements growing more
passionate with each careless kiss and caress. Strong
fingers stroked through hair, across wiry, desert-hardened
muscles, over delicately tattooed skin, pinching at pebbled
nipples as teeth nipped and scraped and bit. Ben hissed,
arching into Chun's touch, almost screaming as a hot tongue
swept up the length of his half-erect cock, bringing him to
swift and hungry attention.
"Oh, Force...."
The pilot grinned and took him to the root, lips and tongue
and throat playing against the stiffening flesh in a
movement that told of long practice. Ben swore aloud and
buried his fingers in the snowy hair, his world constricting
to the fluid heat around his aching erection and the
electric crackle of the Force, the fears of past and future
falling away as Chun played his body, glorying in sensation
too long forgotten in his desert exile. Outside, the suns
were slipping beneath the horizon and the bustle of Mos
Eisley's nocturnal life beginning as the cool of night made
movement bearable, but Ben was lost to the outside world,
his senses narrowing beneath Chun's ministrations until he
came with a choking cry.
Throat muscles moved smoothly around him, milking him until
Ben felt himself soften and relax, falling back onto the
rough bedding with a gasp. Chun lapped at the spent flesh,
cleaning away each drop of seed, hands moving and stroking
across the Jedi's thighs as his mouth moved upwards to lick
and nuzzle at the flat planes of the pale torso. Ben
writhed and groaned, his body revelling in the attention and
in the lassitude that followed climax. It felt so --
Ben yelped and scrambled back as a hand drifted down between
his legs, touching, probing. "What do you think you're --"
Chun snorted and sat up, calling a vial of something from
his discarded clothing to his outstretched hand and slicking
his cock with the amber fluid within. "What do you think?
You've had your fun. It's my turn."
"I can't," Ben growled, feeling something coil in his gut at
the thought of being trapped, taken, defenceless beneath the
other man's body. "I just... can't."
"Why not?" Chun frowned at the Jedi, the need and
impatience almost visibly coiling around him in the Force
held momentarily in check by Ben's obvious dismay. "It's
just sex, Kenobi."
"I know, but I can't --"
"You've been on your own out here for too long," Chun said
roughly, but not without sympathy. The pilot eased himself
down until he was lying alongside Ben, his oiled erection
tapping careless time on one brown thigh. "You've got to
let go occasionally, Obi, or it's going to drive you mad."
"What would you know about it?" Ben snarled.
"Kenobi, if you get wound any tighter, you'll snap! Just
let go, if only for a night or if only for an hour. You'll
feel better, I swear it. I've seen this too many times
before."
"Oh, so this is all for my benefit?"
Chun grinned, his teeth a pale flash in the darkening room.
"I never said that I wouldn't enjoy it...."
Ben closed his eyes, trying to centre himself in the Force.
Chun's body was hot against his own, the scent of shared
sweat and semen heavy in the cool dusk air, and there was
nothing to fear, he was certain of it, not in that moment.
But it was so hard to trust, so hard to surrender so
completely, even with the flickering play of emotion arcing
and sweeping between them, laying Chun's motivations open
before him. "I'm not sure that I can --"
"Shhh." A firm hand stroked across Ben's ribs, straying
downwards until it settled on his hip. The Jedi clenched
his teeth and swallowed hard as he was rolled onto his side,
Chun spooning up against his back and nipping lightly at one
sand-scarred earlobe. "You can do anything you want to,
Obi." Warm breath whispered against the skin of Ben's
throat, raising the hairs at the back of his neck and
sending a shiver of sensation across his body. "Anything
you want...."
Ben stiffened as slick fingers slid across the small of his
back, but he forced himself to relax, to listen to his
still-eager body. He was safe, he was safe, he told
himself firmly. There was no more danger here than in what
they had just done, and yet there was an uncomfortable
vulnerability to his position as Chun eased his way into the
warm crevice of Ben's cleft, stroking and pressing,
breaching.... The Jedi gave a shuddering sigh and raised
his leg, feeling his partner's eager response in the Force
and in the way the seeking fingers were replaced by
something blunter, hotter, pressing into places no other had
been since the Wars....
They lay there panting for a few moments, Ben lying on his
side with Chun wrapped around him, buried within him. The
pilot pressed his face into Ben's neck, teeth scraping the
skin as he slowly began to thrust, but the Jedi reached up,
seizing a handful of the white hair and stilling the other
man's movements. "Just one thing, Chun."
"What?" came the grated response.
Ben smiled despite himself and released his grip. "It's my
turn next...."
The suns were rising, the faint pink of the sky already
hurting eyes red from lack of sleep.
He couldn't believe it. Why Bruck? Why now? Ben looked at
the naked man lying beside him and felt his mouth dry in an
odd mixture of shock and disgust over what he'd done, what
he'd risked. Force -- he had a life, Luke's life, to
protect, a sworn duty. The only thing saving him was his
anonymity, his shielding. Only the fact that he was nothing
more than a crazy old magician, hiding deep in the desert
with the raiders, kept him safe. Kept Luke safe.
Kept him from coming here.
Wiping his eyes with a trembling hand, Ben felt shivers race
across his exposed skin. This washout, this old memory
called his name in a marketplace and he risked everything?
It had been a good fuck, but it hadn't been that good.
Ben sighed, yanking together the thin shards of his
fractured thoughts. What now? What in the name of the
Force was he going to do now? Only one person had found him
before. One person who searched him out on a tip. One more
bounty hunter's bones drying in the sands.
The sands had proved remarkably good at keeping his secrets.
He stood, walking into the almost-clean 'fresher to stand
under the sonics, cleaning himself quickly and efficiently,
running his hands through his mostly-grey hair as he planned
his day out. He had hired someone to transport his goods
back home. He needed some fuel and a few building supplies
to repair the beginnings of a crack in the wall. While he
was out he'd need to find some leak-proof bags... three or
four should be adequate for his needs.
He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. The hard
grey chips of his eyes made him shiver. He was planning a
murder -- the murder of a man who had committed no crime
greater than remembering his name and sharing pleasure with
him. When had he left Obi-Wan behind? For a moment, Ben
looked blankly into the hard face before him. He
couldn't... couldn't just walk back into that room and kill
Bruck Chun.
Of course, that wasn't true, was it? Chun wouldn't be the
first he'd killed -- not the first man, not the first
friend, not even the first he'd taken in cold blood.
Chun would merely be the first he had to kill because of his
own foolishness, his weakness.
Not that it mattered. Millions upon millions had died
because of him, because of his stupid pride and a wasted
promise made to a dying man. He might not have personally
done the deed, but he was still guilty. The galaxy stank
with the rotting bodies that fell from Vader's lightsabre.
Ben closed his eyes against a sudden vision of still-chubby
fingers, moving lightning-quick over the parts of a 'sabre.
Wrapping his arms about the small form, smelling the sweet,
straw-coloured hair. "Here, Ani. Let me show you." Endless
hours of training and talking and caring and dammit, he had
loved that boy, been friend and father and....
"He's dead, you know that. Vader killed him. Anakin is
dead and gone and I have to protect his son. They're gone,
the Jedi are gone, and I'm one man and I have to protect
Anakin's line." The desperate whisper curled around Ben's
shaking body and he grasped the edge of the sink. "I have
to do this. I have no choices. Oh, Force! Why did he see
me? Why didn't he turn away?"
No matter.
Above all things, duty.
If he had learned nothing else from his life, he had learned
that.
Ben walked back into the room, skirting around the bed to
dress, refusing to look to where the end of his 'sabre was
barely visible within his boot. Chun was sprawled across
the mattress, the brown skin of his back reminding Ben of
the desert sands. Pale, raised scars created dried rivers
over the plains of his skin, while the black tattooed
patterns trailing down his shoulder from the dried oasis of
his hair looked like odd habitations.
Settling on the edge of the bed, the Jedi reached out to
touch, to trace the indentation of one long, lean muscle,
and the pilot lifted his head and smiled sleepily up at him.
"Leaving already, Kenobi? Not even going to give me a
goodbye kiss?"
Ben swore softly to himself. Why couldn't Chun have just
stayed asleep? He didn't want this to be difficult.
Chun frowned and sat up, placing a warm hand on Ben's
chilled arm. "Kenobi? Obi-Wan? Is something wrong?"
"No, no, not at all. Last night was... intense."
"I know." Chun's eyes were smiling and Ben found himself
fascinated by the play of muscle in his face and neck,
subtly moving the patterns of the tattoo. "Care to try it
again? See if we can't reproduce the effects?"
Ben sat, stock still, as the pilot closed the distance
between them. Chun's lips were as warm as he remembered, as
mobile, and the Jedi groaned as their tongues met. The kiss
lingered, grew in intensity, and Ben sank into the passion
swirling around him, gathering that rare energy created by
sharing himself with another Force user. They sank down
together on the bed, still kissing, and as their legs
entangled, Chun's bare foot hit Ben's boot, knocking it and
his lightsabre to the floor with a thud --
The Jedi sat up with a jerk, panting heavily. What in the
name of the Force was he doing? He couldn't, he just
couldn't do this. This was the man he was going to kill in
moments.
"Obi?"
"I can't, Bruck. I'm sorry. I just can't." His voice was
low, undercut with something containing both regret and
need.
"Singing that song again, are you?" Chun laughed and the
sound grated against Ben's nerves. The pilot leaned in,
curling himself around the Jedi's form and stroking the
erect cock through the rough cloth. "Come on, Obi-Wan. You
want me, I can feel you, you're hard and hot. Don't you
want me? Want to fuck me into the mattress, pound into me,
make me scream? No questions, no regrets. I'm not
promising you anything but another fuck." Ice-blue eyes
gazed at Ben coolly as a hard hand pumped his flesh. "After
all, last night wasn't bad, not for an old man."
The image of the young woman in the marketplace flashed
before his eyes. Men'dhabi. Surely one more time
wouldn't hurt, one final moment of feeling something but a
memory between his arms....
Ben growled deep in his throat and turned, covering Chun's
body with his own. "No. It wasn't bad." Bending his head,
he fastened his mouth over the unmarked skin on the right of
the pilot's throat. As he sucked, his hands travelled over
brown skin, leaving marks of his own in his wake.
Chun undulated beneath him, moaning, hips arching up from
the bed to rub frantically against the clothed body above.
Ben's mouth never stopped pulling at him, marking him.
Making Chun his.
His past. His friend....
His victim.
Suddenly the warm skin against his tongue tasted of ash and
Ben tore his mouth away, shivers ripping through him.
Chun panted for a long moment, then turned and reached for
the vial of oil. He opened the top and handed it to the
Jedi with a wicked smile. "Now, no more playing. We both
have places to be."
Ben nodded, dropping his eyes to Chun's hips and admiring
the contrast of tattooed brown skin against his paler hand.
Rolling the other man over, he poured the oil at the top of
the pilot's cleft, slowly working it down into the puckered
opening. Chun writhed against the invading digits, his
moans filling the room as he moved, impaled on Ben's
fingers, his patterned body dancing upon the sheets. The
Force swirled and swelled around them and, fascinated by the
play of shadow and light on the dark expanse of skin, Ben
forgot about his desire, his plans, about anything but
moving his fingers to encourage Chun to dance, to whimper,
to buck back against him.
"Now, oh, Obi-Wan, now. Please. Force! Now!"
The pleas grew in volume, finally breaking Ben from his
trance, and he was stunned to find his cock weeping and
ready, balls tight with need. "Yes," he murmured softly,
slicking his cock and thrusting into the body beneath him
with one long, slow motion. They moved steadily, rocking
together fiercely as they fought for completion.
Chun's body was blazing around him, beneath him, pulling him
inside, and Ben fell forward, draping himself over the
pilot's sweaty back. He reached around, stroking Chun's
cock in rhythm with his movements, feeling it pulse in his
hand as the body surrounding his erection spasmed.
He came with a shout, pouring his seed into something so
much better than his own hand.
They stayed in position for a long moment, then Ben rolled
off to the side, covering his eyes with his hand.
Carefully, he gathered these memories to him, packaging them
away even as his breath evened out and his heart slowed,
saving them for long nights when he was alone, when he felt
regret.
He will feel no pain, I swear it.
Above all, duty.
Ben slowly gathered his will to him and removed his arm from
his face. He looked over at Chun and stopped, surprised to
see those ice-blue eyes too close and too intent upon him.
"I don't think so, Jedi. Sleep. Sleep and remember."
Chun's hand stroked against the hollowed lines of the
bearded face and Ben fell....
The look on his face was one of relief.
Epilogue:
Bruck dropped into the pilot's seat of the Tsunami Dawn,
sipping at a cup of iced water from the ship's galley as he
settled into the familiar leather and plasteel embrace.
Their cargo -- both official and not -- was aboard as well
as three paying passengers en route to Umgul, the Dawn's
next port of call. With luck, they would be off of this
sorry rock with time to spare.
The pilot snorted as he slid the commpiece over an ear and
began the final pre-flight checks. He had seen more than
enough of Tatooine, with its dust and grime and merciless
suns, a festering sore of a world at the edge of the Empire.
Had the AgriCorps terraforming teams still existed, he would
have been tempted to get them to pay Tatooine a visit, see
if they couldn't inflict a few actual climatic zones on the
overgrown sandpit....
The comm came to life, interrupting his thoughts with a
burst of the captain's guttural Wookiee snarls. *#Silver?
Are you on?#*
"Here, boss," he responded, smiling as he heard the only
name his crewmates had ever called him. It had seemed
strange, hearing his real name spoken again... but the
experience had no doubt been just as strange for Obi-Wan.
Times changed, lives moved on, and survival meant offering
masks to the world. "Just on the final pre-flights."
Haujikka grunted her approval. *#Good, we're about set down
here -- Jehsin finally fixed that engine murmur. I want us
off of this dirtball as soon as possible.#*
"Starting to shed, are we, boss?"
*#Don't even JOKE about it, Silver.#* The comm cut off
halfway through an untranslatable Wookiee swearword and the
pilot laughed, perversely glad to know that someone disliked
Tatooine even more than he did. The only thing that could
really be said for the place was that it was so far out on
the edge of nowhere that it was easy to ignore the Empire's
existence, the local garrisons of stormtroopers apparently
as touched by the heat as the rest of the population. The
Hutts still ruled on the fringes of the galaxy, regardless
of Palpatine's claim, and their drive for profit meant that
much could be found if you knew where to look. Not that the
Twi'lek porn he'd picked up for Jehsin -- who did at least
have the excuse of actually being a Twi'lek -- was
particularly hard to find elsewhere, and at a better price
than the merchant had tried to sting him for.
But if he hadn't agreed to brave the heat and the glare of
the day, he would never have seen Kenobi.
Bruck sighed and began flipping switches, checking readouts,
going through the familiar minutiae of departure. He felt
sorry for the Jedi, the emotion mingling with the old sense
of relief he always felt when he thought of how close he had
come to sharing in the Order's fate. Tatooine was no place
for a knight to end his days, hidden and afraid, but Kenobi
had seemed determined to stay, even when offered the chance
of escape. No doubt he had ties that he had not felt
inclined to mention, a lover or a child elsewhere on the
planet -- the room had clearly been a temporary measure --
and that thought was all that had stopped the pilot from
forcibly dragging him back to the Dawn and delivering him
to the Rebellion. Strange as it seemed, Obi-Wan was settled
on Tatooine and that choice had to be respected.
The pilot shook his head and started running through engine
diagnostics. And to think that Kenobi had once thought
Bandomeer a fate worse than death....
"Of course he did," Bruck muttered to himself, vaguely
amused by the thought. The Order always had viewed the
AgriCorps as second-class rejects, regardless of their early
training. It was a blind-spot, but one that could be turned
to advantage given the state of paranoia the remnants of the
Order now lived in. Bruck was in no doubt that Kenobi would
have killed him to preserve his secrets, but the pilot
hadn't lived as long as he had without developing a keen
instinct for survival. The Jedi would wake up with a
headache but no other ill-effects... unless one counted
having slightly more respect for the AgriCorps in future.
Bruck snorted and smiled wickedly to himself as he wondered
just how long it would take Kenobi to realise that his
lightsabre crystals were hidden in the opposite boot to the
rest of the weapon.
Icons flashed on the central display as hatches were sealed
in the outer hull, and Haujikka's voice came over the comm
again. *#Any time you're ready, Silver. We're secure.#*
"Got it, boss." The engine pitch rose as Bruck opened the
throttles, revelling in the feel of the ship beneath him and
around him, letting his senses reach outwards until the
Dawn felt like an extension of himself, as familiar a
presence as her crew. Lifting smoothly from the deck, he
retracted the undercarriage... and stopped, gazing from the
viewport at the sun-baked streets for a few moments. Good
luck and long life, Obi-Wan, he thought sadly, knowing that
he would never see the other man again. Don't ever let the
bastards find you.
The Tsunami Dawn turned her nose to the skies and raced
for the beckoning stars.
END