Static

by Azarad ( azarad@aol.com )

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: PG (Unsettling situation, no actual sex, sorry...)

Summary: A young Padawan in his new quarters

Disclaimer: I don't own these guys. Wish I did...

Feedback: Please

Archive: Yes Please, M_A

Author's Note: Thanks to all test readers. REALLY! This suggested itself while writing the 150 word challenges. It evolved into something much "bigger"...

Static crackled, but the low, breathy voice of a stranger had clearly asked, "Are you masturbating, young Padawan?"

Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat. His first night in his Master's quarters and he whirled around searching the room for probe droids. With an icy finger, he tapped the comlink and frowned. He listened again. The intruder was still there, breathing harshly and chuckling.

Obi-Wan summoned his courage and pressed the send key and asked, "Who is this?"

Only static. No reply. He closed the channel.

The frown line deepened between his troubled eyes. Obi-Wan pocketed the small communication device. He checked the door latch and the window seals. He chewed his lip, waiting for Force only knew what.

Then, he took up his datapad once again. He sat down in his new Master's chair. But, in less than a quarter hour, a thread of worry had tightly coiled inside his mind making non-linear logic problems even more impossible to solve. Restless, he could find no comfort in the deep cushions. He kept one ear cocked for the sound of his Master's step. He made only vain attempts to return to his studies.

One and a quarter hours passed on slowly creeping feet. Then, the comlink buzzed again. Obi-Wan snapped it open eagerly and got out, "Master?" Then he froze, his breath caught in his constricting lungs. He was listening to static, and the low breathy voice

"It's late," the voice told him. "You want your bed. Your little bunk where you can go on masturbating. Your body craves it. You want to be touched, ...stroked, ...handled by big, strong...."

Obi-Wan slapped the device shut cutting off the suggestive words, but not before forbidden images formed in his head. His new, beloved Master. His big, strong hands, so gentle upon him, the chaste evening kiss turning warmer. The generous mouth exploring him, heating his skin, raising his nipples, engorging his cock. His serene Master, taking him, lifting him to the stars above, yet never changing the loving, welcoming embrace they had shared this morning.

The young Padawan paced his new quarters. He examined the common room, certain that someone had planted a viewing device. He searched the food preparation area. He stood at the 'fresher door. Had someone been watching as he showered, luxuriating in the scent of his Master's soap?

The door to his Master's sleep chamber was closed. He pressed his forehead against it. He felt Master Jinn's Force signature bleeding through the wood. Obi-Wan's fingers clutched the door handle. It felt warm.

He'd been a youngster when he'd first glimpsed Master Jinn. Everyone in the Creche had wanted to catch Master Qui-Gon's attention. Yet, Obi-Wan, smaller than most and considered slightly frail, had been the child taken up onto the Master's lap at story time. Reliving that moment of serenity, calmed Obi-Wan enough to return to a chair where he clutched his datapad and stared out into the flickering city night.

Then the com device buzzed again. Scrambling, Obi-Wan searched his desk for a power coupler and plugged the comlink into his datapad. A familiar serial number flashed on the screen. His Master. He answered it, relief and gratitude seeping through the tones in his voice.

"What's wrong, Obi-Wan?" his Master asked immediately, sensing the troubled emotions boiling through the comlink.

"Are you coming home soon, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Tell me what's wrong, my Padawan," Qui-Gon insisted, his own voice edged with dread.

A long pause. Breathing and static. Finally, Obi-Wan said, "Someone called. I don't know who it was."

"Did you ask?" the Master asked calmly, exhaling slowly.

"Yes. The man wouldn't tell me. He said...strange things... to me."

"I'll be home in a few minutes, my Padawan." The link clicked off.

Agitated, Obi-Wan paced a few minutes then closed his eyes and found his center. He wandered to their little food preparation unit and looked through the tea selections. Ah, a nice blend of meadowsweet and starblossom from Yoda's Dagobah collection. He heated a quart of ionized water, added a measure of tea leaves and waited anxiously for his Master.

The glow of the study lamp cast strange shadows on the walls in the common room. The window draperies seemed to hide intruders and the thought sent chills running down Obi-Wan's spine. Fear urged him to turn on more lights, but Obi-Wan resisted. The Force was with him in the darkness. He listened instead to his Master's favorite clock as it ticked loudly from its pedestal among the volumes of Alderaanese poetry. Its hands moved as slowly as the wheeling lines of sky traffic outside.

Obi-Wan moved to the chair by the window. He tried to see the square of light that marked Master Yoda's quarters. He loved the ancient, yet childlike, teacher. The lines of aircars stretched to the planet's rim. The city lights glittered and twinkled like a field of stars.

Would he recognize his Master's shuttle among the swarm? He focused along their training bond. He sent out his plea for comfort on the wings of Force. Obi-Wan tucked his icy hands into the folds of his robe. His gaze rested upon the pool of light under the study lamp. His datapad and the comlink were open on the desk. He shuddered.

He'd never felt so alone since his first days among the Initiates. He'd always been small for his age and he'd been the victim of bullies. He knew the fear of sudden attack, the stalking predator watching him, waiting for the moment of ease, of carelessness that meant an opening. Obi-Wan knew how a herd beast felt when it was separated from the safety of its own kind. It was only a matter of time before fangs found his throat.

*Obi-Wan*, a deep familiar voice sounded within his mind.

"Master!" he whispered into the darkness. "I've made tea."

There was a curiously delicious feeling surrounding him now. As if he'd been wrapped in a warm blanket, as if strong arms held him, on guard to protect him from the Dark, from the Voice that he'd heard on the comlink. Obi-Wan let out a long sigh. The clock's ticking grew fainter.

Obi-Wan blinked. He heard the front door opening and the long-awaited step of his Master. The hands of the old clock had flown past another hour. The tea would be cold, he thought. Then, he smiled. His Master had eased him to sleep in the chair by the window, wrapped in safe thoughts.

"It was ingenious of you to link your datapad with the com device," Master Jinn said as he paused at the study table. "And you remembered the serial number of mine. I'm impressed, young Padawan."

Obi-Wan beamed. His heart felt near to bursting. The fears of the evening crept back under the bed and hid behind the drapes. The Master had added a soft light above their dining table which illuminated the tea service. Now, Qui-Gon was filling a glass with ice in the kitchen.

"I'm dry as the sands of Tatooine, my Padawan. How good of you to make tea."

Obi-Wan got up out of his seat and rubbed his hands over his tousled hair. He said, "I'm a good cook too. Are you hungry, Master?"

"No, Obi-Wan. But make something for yourself. At your age, young Apprentices are always hungry."

"I'll just have some tea with you."

"All right then."

They sat a few moments in silence sipping iced tea. Master Jinn glanced down at Obi-Wan a few times. He seemed to be waiting for something, most likely for his Padawan to open the discussion. Obi-Wan was embarrassed now of his fearful reaction to the odd communication. After all, he was a Padawan, not a child still in the Creche.

"You need not feel ashamed of your fear, my Apprentice," Master Qui-Gon said, beating him to the punch. "You must learn to face fears and release them into the Force. It is a difficult task for any Jedi. I should not have left you here alone."

"No, Master. You are not to blame for..."

"A troublesome youth so soon, disagreeing with his Master?" Master Jinn said softly, smiling and taking away the sting. Then he turned toward the study table and said, "Let's see if your datapad can find the comlink serial number that bothered you. Are you up for it?"

"Yes, Master."

"You must believe me, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon began. "There is probably a logical explanation for the call. Nothing more than a random act of aggression toward an unguarded member of our order."

"It felt like he could see me. Like he knew what I was feeling."

Qui-Gon scratched his bearded chin. He asked, "Can you search your memory for relevant clues? Did the speaker have any particular knowledge that would lead you to believe he knew you?"

"He knew I was a Padawan."

Master Jinn smiled and replied, "The caller would know he was contacting a Master's quarters. A young voice would be an Apprentice. He made a good guess."

"Why did he ask me about a private thing? A sexual thing."

The smile faded from Qui-Gon's face. He seemed to sense the seriousness of the question. He said, "Some people, Obi-Wan, are lonely. Many such people resent those who are loved. They try to make others feel ashamed, fearful, unsure."

"Well, he did manage that."

"I'm not so sure," Qui-Gon replied. "I think you acted calmly. I did not receive a call from a frantic boy."

"I was terrified, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, his frown deepening.

Qui-Gon sat back and stroked his beard, gazing at the intense young man seated across the table from him. A dozen emotions flickered within the Living Force. Courage was there and so was self-respect. The Master had chosen a fine Apprentice.

After a moment, Qui-Gon said, "Examine your feelings, my Padawan. Recount your actions. Show me where you acted out of fear."

"Well, I wanted to turn on all the lights."

"Did you?"

"Uh, no, Master." Obi-Wan admitted with a mischievous ghost of a grin.

"With quick wit, you linked your datapad with the com device. You faced your fear. A mark of a true Jedi."

Obi-Wan lowered his eyes. "You, Master, are trying to make me feel better," He said into his teacup.

A big hand squeezed his shoulder. He heard his Master ask, "Is it working?"

"Yes, Master." He nodded his head and his braid tickled his neck. He stroked the beaded length and felt better. He had been chosen.

"Shall we try to find the number that made the call?"

Obi-Wan nodded and got his equipment. He turned on his datapad. After a few minutes of tinkering, the display gave them the location of the call and the public registry of the device used. The location was on the first sublevel of the city not far from the Temple, a place Padawans relaxed and listened to music unpopular with their Masters.

"If one of your friends talked about where you were, with whom you lived, the comlink here in our quarters would have been easy to obtain. Someone with a grudge against Jedi might try to unsettle you. Nothing really personal."

A slow smile lit Obi-Wan's face. "They were playing a trick on me. My old comrades. They got someone to call me and play a joke my first night here!"

"Your friends?"

"Let's see."

Obi-Wan tapped the screen of his datapad. A long list of numbers scrolled up. Then he activated the call log on the com unit. He frowned. No matches.

"None of the Padawans made the call from their personal links."

"Let me try," Qui-Gon said, gently taking the datapad into his large hands and tapping the screen.

"I've entered my code and the data base is searching for any matches. If it's a registered unit, the number will be listed. We are going through the Senate terminal."

A few moments of humming as micro processors did their invisible work.

"That's odd," Qui-Gon said. "Someone on the staff of the Senator from Naboo."

A cold wave washed down Obi-Wan's spine at the mention of the distant planet. He grabbed his Master's thick wrist and tilted the datapad enough to see the name. He stared into his Master's eyes and in a waking dream, imagined those blue orbs closing for the last time.

Obi-Wan blinked and inhaled a great breath. He was shuddering and Qui-Gon's hand was on his shoulder.

"Padawan?"

"I had a bad feeling, Master. I... I can't explain it."

Qui-Gon's expression softened. He ruffled the short spikes of hair on his Apprentice's head.

"You are over-tired. It's been a trying day, full of changes for you. And we start training in earnest tomorrow. You need some sleep."

"Yes, Master."

"Ah, that's what I like. Obedience and respect. Come on now. A hug, and then off to bed."

"Yes, Master."

The warmth of the embrace lasted well into the young man's dreams of his future as a Jedi Knight, lightsaber in hand guarding his beloved Master's back.