This was a strange little silly thing written in five minutes
for no good reason. I don't usually write sillies, I readlly
don't!
Walking down the path of devistation, Obi-Wan had never been
more glad of the thick boots he favored.
"A riot," Qui-Gon's soft assessment was nearly drowned out by
yet another roar from the masses.
"Indeed, Master." Obi-Wan nodded, kicking debris out of the
way. "One would think so. But not in this case."
Qui-Gon frowned, looking about. Wreckage from a dozen
transports could be seen, some still smouldering. Furniture was
strewn about pell mell. Occasionally a body would twitch under
the rubble, urging the older man to action. Obi-Wan had to
restrain him from offering assistance.
"They wouldn't appreciate it, Master."
"This is insane." Following the band of destruction, the two
Jedi had walked for miles, witnessing row after row of boarded
houses, once proud, they now seemed to huddle in fear. "You
maintain this... ritual, is deliberate?"
"It is, my Master." Obi-Wan shook his head, watching his boots
disappear under a thick layer of alcohol, mud and dried
grasses. "They say there's a rail line where we walk, but of
course it can not be used now."
Qui-Gon toed the ground curiously and, after raking away
several inches of mud and broken glass, inhaled softly. "You're
right. Tracks." He looked up, the question obvious.
"It's called Mardi Gras."
Hands on hips, Qui-Gon looked around. "Force, have they no law
at all?"
"Rarely. But certainly not now." Obi-Wan glanced forward. "If
we hurry we'll catch the end of the parade."
The older man spread his hands, clearly a "whatever you say"
gesture.
Quickening their pace, a lucky turn of a corner, and suddenly
the chaos erupted around them. A mass of humanity seethed in a
good natured free for all around slow moving vehicles.
Partially clad celebrants tossed trinkets to the crowds from
the decks, to the delight of the recipients.
Several fights broke out over on particularly long strand of
glittering beads, obviously throw to, but just over the head,
of a nude and nubile young woman.
Grinning, Obi-Wan bent to retrieve a long strand of pearlized
beads, then slipped them deftly over Qui-Gon's head.
His audacity was rewarded moments later when a stunning woman
stumbled over. Seeing the dazed look on Qui-Gon's face she
stopped, a huge smile lighting her face. "Smile, dahlin!" She
staggered closer. "It's Mardi Gras!" Without warning she was in
his arms, kissing him, then moving away.
Obi-Wan's facade of innocence was ruined by the unconscious
bouncing on his toes.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, staring at his padawan. "You say
there's no law here, right?"
A little startled, Obi-Wan considered. "For now, yes. Almost
anything is acceptable short of mass murder. I think that is
still mildly frowned upon."
The elder Jedi gestured to the crowd. "And this is currently
the rate of exchange?" He gestured to the whirlwind of
celebrants, most either totally nude or in a state of partial
undress, many already in the throws of several intimate acts.
Obi-Wan met his eyes, grinning. "It is."
Pursing his lips, Qui-Gon nodded once. "Then tell me what this
is worth." He suddenly scooped his padawan into an altogether
possessive embrace, not giving either of them time to think
about it. The kiss was long, thorough and ...
The door chimed again. "Are you ready?"
His meditations interrupted, Obi-Wan blinked, then smiled.
"Yes, Master."
"Did you review the tapes I gave you?"
"Oh yes. The culture is... extraordinary."
The perfect picture of calm, the two Jedi walked to the waiting
transport. "I look forward to your explanations. There's a
celebration while we're there I believe?"
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