Master Apprentice
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Category: A/U, Romance, Angst, Q/O
Rating: R (for adult themes)
Spoilers: For all movies, including TPM, and the JA books.
Archive: Nowhere right now, thanks. :-)
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, we don't. Damn.
EXILES SERIES: In an alternate universe set fifteen years after the events in The Phantom Menace, two Jedi live in hiding on the desert planet of Tatooine, awaiting a child's destiny. Will they survive to see a new hope come to fruition?
JOURNALS -- BOOK SIX: The Journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi -- Senatorial conspiracies abound and fear is given its due.
Standard Date 198783-81738
The Galactic Senate
I can't properly express how grateful I am for a midday break from my duties as Senate guard. It gives me the time I need to gather my resources after a tiring morning spent standing and doing nothing, which is far more exhausting than it sounds.
What a mindless place our Galactic Senate has become. Endless debates, pointless arguing and eternal politics abound. Multiply all this by a million or so Senators and you have a recipe for a headache even our best healers would have a hard time curing.
I've tried to meditate as I stand there, tried to count seats ... I've finally been reduced to watching the Wookie Senator groom himself in what I'm sure he believes is unobtrusive manner, but in truth, is quite the opposite.
The Supreme Chancellor is polite to me, always asking after Qui- Gon and seems particularly interested in Anakin's training. I'm not sure where he's getting his information, but he appears to know as much as I do about the boy's progress, and I find this most disconcerting.
I'm polite with my replies, but take care to confirm or deny nothing. It's really none of the Senate's business, the progress of any particular padawan, and I spend much of my time with Palpatine turning the conversation toward the weather, the lunch menu and Senate traffic problems.
He's finally gotten the hint and now gracefully refrains from mentioning the boy, which is fine with me.
His military attache, Lieutenant Tarkin, is not so diplomatic.
I dislike this sharp-eyed, even sharper tongued, man and his casual disdain of the Jedi Order isn't lost on me. I've feigned indifference, even ignorance, in regard to his snide comments, but they raise my hackles nonetheless.
This morning's conversation was particularly unpleasant, especially after the temper tantrum Anakin had during last night's saber practice. I don't know what it is, but every time the boy picks up that saber, he changes into a different creature. He angrily hacks at his sparring opponents, intent on delivering kill strokes at every turn, and becomes infuriated when I call him on it.
After some consideration, I've taken him off the sparring rolls altogether and confined him to balance exercises, something he needs anyway. Of course, this did nothing to ease the boy's foul temper, but I'm not going to bow, not this time.
He will learn patience, he must learn it, even if it is painfully gained.
After a night of this annoyance, Tarkin was certainly the last thing I wanted to deal with.
But deal with him I must, and smile while I'm doing it. Even when he starts conversations with "Good morning, my Jedi friend. You look well, especially for someone who spends his days kneeling on rocks and staring at the sky. I say, this 'religion' of yours ... it's grown a bit dated by now, don't you think?"
I shrugged and replied serenely. "Perhaps, but we prefer to think of it as "time-tested."
He smiled mirthlessly at this, showing me a perfect row of sharp, white teeth. "Time-tested, indeed." He tsked softly. "Well, this slothful crew doesn't present much of a test, do they? The least they could do is trim away the ... excess. Don't you think so, Knight Kenobi?"
"Excess? I'm not sure I get your meaning, Lieutenant."
"Oh, surely you do." An airy laugh. "I can tell you and I think much alike in regard to this bloated body politic."
Unfortunately, that was true, and I pray that's where our similarities end. I remained serene and again, shrugged. "It may not be a perfect system, but it's by far the best. Until a better one is found to replace it, I can have nothing but respect for it."
He snorted disdainfully, then gave me a long, appraising look, one that made my hair stand on end. "I say, why don't you come by my chambers tonight, Kenobi? We can discuss politics and you can explain this "time-tested" religion of yours to me. I'm sure the conversation will be most amusing ... stimulating, even." A keen look. "We can talk over some Cyrthian brandy, if you'd like."
This "hint" wasn't lost on me and I fought hard to control my disgust. Cyrthian brandy is a known aphrodisiac, and besides, there was no mistaking the look he so kindly favored me with. I would have liked nothing better than to tell him that if only three sentient beings existed in the galaxy whole -- him, myself and a Gungan -- the Gungan would have a much, much greater chance of sharing my bed than he.
But, I am a Jedi, and diplomacy is in my blood. Unfortunately. "You are very good, Lieutenant, but my schedule with my bondmate doesn't permit much socializing." Casually said, or so I hoped. "My thanks anyway."
His expression soured. "Your bondmate, eh?"
I nodded and smiled beatifically at him. "Yes, Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Have you met him?"
"Jinn." His considered for a moment, then regarded me mockingly. "Oh, surely you don't mean to say you're bonded to that ancient fellow? Good gods, he must be at least twice your age." Dismissively. "Forgive me, but I dare say you could do better than that."
The hair on the back of my neck instantly rose, but I refrained from telling the fool that my "ancient fellow" could slice him into four neat pieces within the blink of an eye ... if my love cared to dirty his saber thus.
Instead, I bowed shortly and told him I must, regretfully, return to my duties. He shrugged lazily and slid away, and I was left to fume silently for the rest of the afternoon.
Of course, Qui-Gon merely laughed when I told him about this exchange, even slyly complimented Tarkin's "good taste." When I told him firmly that I was not at all amused, he called me his "noble knight" and proceeded to kiss my ire away.
It worked, but only for the moment. Now I have an obstinate padawan to attend to, and after that, it's another day of watching Wookies groom themselves while filthy little men stare at me in ways a Hutt would find unappetizing.
Force help me, but I need a vacation from this vacation.
Standard Date 8717672-8273
The Temple at Coruscant
Received two very welcome gifts this morning; one, a new robe from my beloved, pure synthsilk and softer than kempur weave and second, a visit from my dearest and oldest friend, Bant. She'd just been knighted on the world of her trials and I'm pleased to say the experience hadn't changed her a bit.
She's still as lovely a creature as any could be, Jedi Knight or otherwise.
She came calling after breakfast and I wasted no time in greeting her in the time honored manner. A lift and a twirl, followed by a sloppy kiss placed squarely between her eyes, which earned me an indignant squeak and a slap, but I must say, it was a very soft one.
"Honestly Obi, must humans wipe their lips over everything they come in contact with?" she asked with a scowl. "Really ..."
This earned her another kiss, and I'm lucky Qui-Gon entered when he did, or I'm not sure Bant wouldn't have knocked me down after receiving a third.
"Well, here's a familiar sight," he said with a smile. "Welcome, my dear."
She bowed formally to him, which made him shake his head, bemused. He, of course, greeted her in the proper Mon Calamarian fashion, a brief touch of foreheads, and she smiled.
"See?" she hissed at me. "He knows how to do it."
Before I could answer with the proper flippancy, Anakin entered, his eyes wide at the sight of my old friend. I'm quite sure he's never seen a member of her race, being born on a world without water, and was obviously quite impressed when he found out who she was.
He'd heard the stories about our adventures, some of which still make the rounds through Apprentice Hall. "You know, someone told me that ... " He stopped and glanced at me. I shook my head fractionally and he gave her his most charming smile. " ... that you and Master Obi-Wan were such good students, the masters could scarcely believe it."
She laughed. "I wouldn't believe it either if I were you." She wiggled her nose at him, the Calamarian equivalent of a smile and he returned the gesture, his eyes shining.
Since it was a Temple rest day, I asked Anakin to heat more tea and practically forced my friend to sit and partake with us. Qui- Gon had a quick cup, then politely excused himself, saying he had enough research waiting to keep him busy for a hundred rest days.
Anakin rose as well, mournfully explaining that if wanted to pass his history exam the next morning, he'd have to study today. They left together and my friend and I were alone, with plenty to catch up on.
She glanced slyly at me. "So ... how's the bonded life? Lots of lost sleep, I'll bet."
I could feel myself flush red. "Very funny. Remind me to ask you the same question when you're newly bonded."
"Not me," she protested. "I'm far too busy, but, that reminds me. I seem to have something for you." She reached into the pocket of her robe and placed a small, smooth object in my hand.
It was a Calamarian bonding stone. Brilliant blue and harder than carbonite, these stones are only found at great depths on her planet, retrieved with much care and are the most sacred gift one can give a newly bonded couple.
My throat tightened, and she put a gentle finger to my lips to stop the stream of thanks that was struggling to come forth. "May joy be yours, my Obi." Softly. "But I know it will be. Somehow, I think I always knew."
I nodded and swallowed hard. "Well," I said shakily. "You always were the prescient one."
She feigned annoyance. "Only because you always forced me to be the "lookout" when you were being incorrigible. I had to develop a second sense to keep us from getting tossed out of the Order." Primly, and I fought the urge to pick her up and twirl her again.
We drank in companionable silence for a few minutes until her expression turned serious. "I've been assigned," she said quietly.
"And who are the lucky creatures?" I teased. "The T'wakis, perhaps?"
"Oh, Force no," she said, horrified. "I don't think I'd last a day there." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "They have livelier lips than humans do."
"The horror," I whispered back with a smile. I poured her another cup of tea. "So, where is it?"
She lowered her gaze. "Malastre."
My hand clenched involuntarily around the teapot. Malastre ... the remotest of the Outer Rim worlds, torn by civil war and so far away from any known lanes of travel, it was rarely, if ever, visited by outworlders. A mission to Malastre was considered a lifetime assignment, and no knight sent there could reasonably be expected to return to Temple ... ever.
I know it was foolish, I know there is no death and that we shall meet again in the Force, but oh, how my heart sank at the news. Never to see my dear friend again, never to hear her voice or see her silver eyes sparkle ... yes, I'll confess it hurt.
She knew, of course, how I'd react and I felt her slim fingers entwine with mine. I looked at them, and brushed my thumb over various tiny scars, some of which I knew as well as my own. We sat in silence for a long time -- there was no need to speak, and finally, she drew her hand away and rose.
She pulled me into her long arms and murmured against my sleeve. "May the Force be with you, my dearest Obi. I am fortunate to know you, and blessed to be your friend, which is something neither distance nor time will ever change."
I nodded and held her closer still. "You know, years ago," I whispered, "someone, for some reason, wanted to perform a mind wipe on me. I resisted it by holding onto my dearest memories." I drew back and looked at her. "And chief among the thoughts that saved me were my memories of you."
Her eyes shone then, far too brightly in the dim light of my quarters, and she took a trembling step back before raising the hood of her cloak and bowing formally to me, as one Knight to another.
I returned the gesture and a moment later ... she was gone. Gone from my presence, but not from my heart, where she and her gentle eyes will always remain.
I walked over to the view windows and sat, staring out over the vast skyline of Coruscant, and was still there when Qui-Gon returned. He quietly sat beside me and one look at my face told him all he needed to know.
He drew me into a tight embrace and I curled against his warmth, taking my comfort there, and placed Bant's gift in his palm, closing both our hands over its cool surface.
"As Jedi," he said, clasping the stone and my hand tightly, "we spend much of our time thinking about formal Trials, and how wonderful things will be when we pass them. When in reality, they are merely a preparation for the everyday trial that is life." Gently, and he kissed my forehead. "Have faith, beloved ... have faith."
I closed my eyes and nodded. "I do. My faith, Qui-Gon, is in us."
Standard Date 1877299-816962
The Galactic Senate
I reported to my post as usual this morning and was surprised to find myself called into a private meeting with Chancellor Palpatine, in a secure section of the Senate.
His expression was grim and I felt a distinct sensation of foreboding crawl up my spine at the sight. He spoke bluntly and told me he no longer trusts Lieutenant Tarkin, and wants me to watch him carefully for suspicious behavior and to stay close to him, even if I have to feign friendship to do it.
He also asked that I not mention this to anyone but the Council, and then, only if circumstances force me to explain my actions.
With a heavy heart, I bowed and agreed, since as a Jedi, my duty is to the Senate, and a direct request from the Supreme Chancellor cannot be denied. But I can't think of a less pleasant assignment, and dread the friendly overtures I'm now forced to make to a creature who, frankly, makes me nauseous.
But, I did as asked and it was a simple matter to smile at Tarkin and feign amusement at his noxious jokes and comments. Simple, but not easy, especially since he seemed to be warming up to the idea of a friendship with me very quickly.
How disgusting.
It was a welcome relief to return to the shelter of my quarters, where I made up for the day's indignities by enjoying the company of my padawan and my lifemate who has taken to cooking excellent dinners, so excellent I'm wondering if I'm going to need a larger sized uniform soon.
Luckily, training Anakin keeps me on my toes -- chasing after a rambunctious eleven year old is enough to keep anyone in shape.
He's getting taller, much to his delight, and we've picked up two new pairs of boots for him from the Temple commissary, since he's already outgrown his last pair.
I can see hints of the man he's going to become, and it warms me to think of him as a full knight, bright as a star and completely in tune with the Living Force. I think tonight I'll take him to the garden and we'll meditate together, exercising our souls instead of our bodies, just for one evening.
Anakin enjoys meditating very much, especially since he now knows how to do it correctly. Once the proper trance is gained, you can see and share all the sights of the universe, from the smallest atom to the largest star and travel within those planes, as one might walk through a meadow or race through a helix.
Some Jedi become so enamored of this type of soul-traveling, they fall into a trance from which they refuse to return, so I keep part of my mind open and watchful, making sure Anakin doesn't do the same. He's at his most peaceful when meditating, and I believe it's his best insurance against the nightmares that still plague him, but only occasionally.
I asked Qui-Gon to pick a topic, or a focus word, to begin our meditations with and he chose "darvet," or, "love" as it is called in Ekoc. An excellent idea, I told him, as I kissed him softly and I think I might ask him to join us, at least for a little while, in the gardens before going to bed.
It is only right, that when I contemplate love, that he, my own love, is there beside me.
Standard Date: 28797971-197872
The Temple at Coruscant
Another day spent with my delightful new "friend," Lieutenant Tarkin. My mouth hurts from smiling so much, and being told in detail the deviant sexual practices of various Senators for hours on end did nothing to ease the ache in my head.
To my horror, I find myself wondering what sort of strange practices Tarkin engages in. He seems so obsessed with the subject, I'd say he must have indulged in some form of them at one time or another.
I sincerely wonder if Palpatine isn't mistaking mere obnoxiousness for treason. True, Tarkin certainly seems to know a lot of things he shouldn't, things that could possible by used for blackmail or extortion purposes, and I wonder if this isn't what Palpatine fears.
There are unsavory chapters in everyone's life, and I can't imagine that any of these politicians, not even our esteemed Chancellor, would be immune from the bad judgments that plague every sentient creature from time to time.
But treason ... I don't see it.
Perhaps I'm not looking as far past appearances as I should. I was never very good at delving beneath the top layers of a creature's outward shell, this was always Qui-Gon's great strength, and I relied on his skill at unmasking more than I should have.
I wish I could ask his advice in this case, but the Senator did ask me to keep silent on it.
Maybe I should wonder about this request as well.
Finally, after a few hours of private research on the Lieutenant's mundane background, I'd had enough of Tarkin for one night, and decided to spend the evening attending to my bondmate, who is looking a bit tired these days. Not enough for anyone to notice besides myself, and I think some quality time for just the two of us in order.
The boy was in bed for the night and I joined Qui-Gon on the divan and gently took the datapad out of his hands. He smiled ruefully at me, but I kissed away his misgivings and tried to draw some of the shadows away from his eyes with caresses and care.
He hides things from me, my cautious love, things he think might wound or bother me, and I won't have any more of that. I'm too prone to jump to conclusions for one thing, and after our last spat, I don't plan on taking anything for granted.
He spoke to me about his visits to the infirmary and assured me everything, for the most part, was well, according to the healers.
Just a bit of balance lost, coupled with the onset of middle age and some leftover pain from the wound sustained on Naboo, but nothing that wasn't easily dealt with.
I must have looked unconvinced, because a moment later I found myself scooped up and firmly deposited on the bed, where he set about proving that my fears in regard to his health and strength were unfounded.
Proving it in the most pleasant of ways.
I wonder if we'll tire of this, if the fire between us will burn less as the years pass, but at the moment I can't imagine it ever will. Looking at him now, so peaceful and beautiful in sleep, makes my heart beat as hard as it did when I was younger and the first blush of desire crept upon me, almost catching me unaware.
In days past, I would watch him sleep, sometimes cradled in his arms ostensibly for the warmth and safety they provided and would lie awake, often till dawn, wanting to touch and taste, wondering with delicious terror what would happen if he'd awake and discover my longings. Would he rebuke me, would he deny me or, what if ...
Ah, those days are pleasant to reflect on, but only after my heart's desire has been won.
I can't imagine what my life would be, or if I even would have lived that long, if things were otherwise.
Standard Date 83762615-52414
The Galactic Senate
Lucky me, I've been invited for supper and drinks by the infernal Lieutenant.
How times change. A week or so ago, I would have taken much delight in telling him where he could place that invitation, and now, oh, I'm so delighted to join him.
I swear, the black pits of Bandomeer are a lovely romp beneath the sea compared to this.
I won't stay long -- I think Qui-Gon would be most suspicious if I missed our late meal to dine with Tarkin. Not suspicious of my intentions, of course, but he'd guess my "mission" very quickly.
And, off to the Council he'd mostly likely go, telling them that Senate duty isn't quite the job for me.
Now that I think of it, it might not be such a bad idea to let "the sylthian slip from the cage" so to speak. I'd rather be on 'fresher cleaning duty than doing this, and a word to Yoda from Qui-Gon might not be amiss.
But, not tonight. Tonight, I will carry on with this unpleasant charade, and then, take my leave of the entire unpleasant affair.
Besides, how bad can two hours be?
Standard Date 18797991-872676
Private Quarters, Tarkin - Lieutenant
[entry deleted]
Standard Date 8179366-87162
The Temple at Coruscant
I don't know what's happened. Days have passed and ...
I'm in my bed, in my quarters, pain spiraling through every bone. Qui-Gon is saying little besides giving me orders to rest and I had to practically crawl to the nightstand and retrieve this journal recorder. I might have to hide it from Qui-Gon, he's adamant that I do nothing but sleep, but how can I sleep when I don't know ...
Force, give me strength.
Looking back through the past few entries, I see the recorder has been tampered with. I leave off in Tarkin's private quarters, the entry has been deleted, but that was four days ago and I remember little or nothing beyond agreeing to have supper with him.
Palpatine must have been right about our "friend."
I can hear Qui-Gon's voice in the common room, along with Masters Yoda, Yaddle and Rancisis. It isn't raised, but I know his tone well enough to hear the rage that simmers just beneath the surface. I can't hear exactly what they're saying, not even if I strain to listen.
Anakin was here earlier, his small hand brushing against my forehead, and I felt the slim tendril of healing Force he attempted to bestow, poor lad. At least he and Qui-Gon are all right -- in this I will take some comfort.
If only someone would tell me what in gods name is going on.
Standard Date 8179366-87162
The Temple at Coruscant
Well, I now know what's happened, all I have to do is try and remember how in hells it did.
According to Qui-Gon (and he was loathe to tell me all the details at first) I never returned after my Senate tour of duty some four days ago. My whereabouts were unknown until reports of a dangerous man, dressed like a Jedi and likely under the influence of strong drink or narcotics, was detained in one of Coruscant's seedier brothels after assaulting patrons and favor-sellers alike.
It appears that I was this dangerous man.
Now, Qui-Gon knows me, and knows I have no taste for either stimulants or depressives of any sort, and certainly knows I've never shown an inclination toward favor-sellers, not even during my youth.
But that doesn't change the facts.
I can barely stand to look at my bondmate's pale face, haggard and wracked with concern. His eyes blazing with anger toward any outsider who might dare to suggest that I'm not all he believes I might be, and that I too can fall into less than perfect behavior, which is what the Council is hinting at.
I can see he's prepared to defend me to the death, as is my poor padawan, who today has suffered through the sniggers and off-color jests of his agemates with a quiet grace that fills me with pride.
And tears my heart in half.
To top it off, Tarkin is offworld, reassigned to some unknown location, and the Chancellor is gone as well, supposedly on "vacation" on his home planet ... Naboo.
Tarkin's disappearance doesn't surprise me, but Palpatine's ...
Either way, it's my word against the evidence at the moment, and for much of the Council, since they knew nothing of my orders, my word is not sufficient.
I've explained the entire situation to Qui-Gon, even showed him the missing journal entry, but he tells me this matters little, that much deeper things are afoot. There's more to this event than just a corrupt military attache and some possible extortion attempts, he insists.
All these things are connected, he fears ... connected to the Darkness we discovered on Naboo. I don't believe this, but he will not be swayed. He's possessed by this idea, the belief that Darkness now surrounds us, is entwined with us, and that we must escape it by any means necessary.
I'll confess, his paranoia isn't only frightening, it's contagious, and I'm at a loss how to deal with it. I can't see a link between these events ... a Sith on Naboo and the treason of a military attache, but Qui-Gon is standing firm.
"We are leaving, as soon as you're well enough for travel," he said, his blue eyes harder than I've ever seen them. "Yoda agrees, as does most of the Council. We are going to Kossuth with Anakin and together, we'll train him there. Alone."
"Kossuth. But that's so remote ... " I gasped.
"Exactly." His lips set in a hard line. "Which is what we want. Anakin can be trained well enough there, Kossuth's Academy is equipped with all we need."
"But running away won't ... " I began, but was silenced by the stony look in his eyes.
"I will not have my love, my life and heart, in danger any longer. And I won't expose the boy to the corruption that's now run rampant, even through the halls of the Senate. We came here to recover from our wounds, not to worsen them." He rose, and I don't remember when, if ever, he's looked more imposing. "So, when you're ready, be sure to pack your things thoroughly. I doubt if we'll be returning here any time soon."
He then stalked from the room, looking much the caged terilgar. He can hide his anxiety from everyone else, but I cannot be fooled by him, and his fear disturbs me. If I examine my feelings, I know I must follow him, even if my mind disagrees.
Together in this, as in all things, went our vows, and to them, I'll remain true.
I think I'll rest for a few hours longer, and then, prepare for the long trip to Kossuth.
May the Force help us.
end of EXILES: Journals -- Book Six
On to Book Seven
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