Master Apprentice Archive There Is No Passion Quick search:

There Is No Passion

by Artemis ( jedilover99@hotmail.com )

Archive: M-A and my site http://www.geocities.com/jedilover99/

Pairing: Obi/other, Qui/Obi

Rating: NC-17

Category: bondage, hurt/comfort, POV

WARNINGS: Physical abuse, non-consensual sex, brief het sex

Special thanks: Alex totally made this fic happen by inspiring me with Obi!Bondage in her story "Adumbration" and giving me unending support. Without her guidance and enthusiasm this story would have never been completed.

Summary: Obi-Wan is kidnapped and with it learns a lesson in serenity.

// = sent thoughts

I am a collector.

I collect priceless objects---works of art on paper, ancient decorative pieces, fine fabric, rare gems, spices... even living beings. Variations of the same item interest me. One is not enough if ten or twenty or six hundred exist in varying forms. I must have them all.

Call me fanatical, meticulous and compulsive if you like, but it is not merely habit or want that drives me. It is my employer. For I collect for another. Does that make me less strange, less curious in the eyes of the galaxy? Doubtful, but I do not care. I am well paid and well laid.

And where better to collect than on Coruscant? This city planet has many levels, many corners to explore. Species gather here from around the galaxy and bring with them the finest their worlds have to offer. In just ten days I have collected translucent statues, resonating glass and hued perfumes. All trinkets in the eyes of my employer, but items I can barter for the real prizes.

With a year's worth of successful acquisitions under my belt, my employer has shown his gratitude and confidence in me by sending me here to negotiate with the Trade Federation. It is a small matter in the scheme of his empire, but I will handle it with the utmost delicacy, ensuring my continued rise through the ranks of his minions.

This afternoon I am in a quiet café near the Senate. I met briefly with the Neimoidians and have the rest of the day to myself. The waiter brings me a steaming cup of bitters and a plate of sweet biscuits. I lean back and enjoy the view. The planet is in constant motion. Air taxis above, pedestrians below. People from all over the galaxy call Coruscant home and with the Senate here, it is truly the center of the galaxy. So many looking for a piece of the pie.

The café is bustling with mid-day meal service. Some patrons sit outside on the veranda, like me, having a light repast and a drink, while others go indoors for a more substantial meal. In this traffic, I notice three young Jedi. Though I am thirty-five standard years and have traveled far and wide, this is my first close Jedi sighting. But of course, any intergalactic trader worth his salt can identify one. I walk a fine line between what is illegal and what is highly suspect, and from what I have heard I would not want to tangle with any Jedi.

I watch the three companions. My observations could be useful someday, or if not, these three are pleasant enough in appearance to make my time spent watching them enjoyable.

They are seated several tables over from mine. Though they are dressed similarly in varying colors of tunics, and their hair is cut the same, only one strikes my fancy. His sandy blond hair glistens red in the sunlight, and his eyes are bright and a little on the mischievous side. He is beautiful. And all my attention is soon taken up on this one Jedi.

The braid and the short hair signify he is an apprentice, so I am told. I never apprenticed with anyone. I am a self-taught man. All my mistakes and all my accomplishments are my own. There is no master to instruct me, punish me, protect me, or love me.

I see that all these Jedi are apprentices, and it occurs to me that their masters have given them some leave. Since I know very little about Jedi ways I am not sure what time off actually means for them, so I continue to observe in order to learn anything I can from their demeanor and interactions.

They are a friendly enough trio---all about the same age, eighteen standard years or so. Each has ordered a different beverage, but they share a large platter of sandwiches and fruit. My Jedi, for that is how I have come to see him, has the most remarkable laugh. It draws attention to their table and he shyly turns his face down and bites his lower lip to stifle himself... though he can not stop smiling. Oh, that he would laugh again and I could hear that sweet sound over the din of the other patrons' conversations.

They stay for nearly two hours. When they leave I wonder if they are returning to the Senate or to the Jedi Temple? Perhaps I should follow and continue my observations, but I scold myself with the thought. It is a silly waste of time and I should be satisfied with having enjoyed their indirect company this afternoon. I watch them -- him -- go until he turns a corner and is out of sight.

The next day I return to the same café. I tell myself it is because I enjoyed the bitters and because of its proximity to the Senate buildings. In truth it is because I hope to see him again---my Jedi. But he does not come that day, or the next, and by the fifth day I have all but given up on seeing him again. And then the gods shine down on me on the sixth day. As I am asking my waiter for my bill, my Jedi arrives, this time with only one friend, one of his companions from the other day.

Instead of paying and leaving, I ask the waiter for another drink and allow my eyes to follow my Jedi as he settles at a table only two from mine. His closeness makes me a little uneasy, and when he sits he notices me watching. I grin and he nods slightly, in a reserve worthy of any serious negotiator. Oh yes, this is something I have learned in the last several days. The skill the Jedi are most renowned for is their diplomacy, as well as their reputation as warriors. Interesting combination. I suppose it makes sense for the Guardians of the Peace to be ready for a fight. Peace and justice do not come easily, and most often kicking and screaming.

Today my Jedi orders tea and a pastry filled with sweetened fruit. It is a pleasure watching him eat. He is methodical in his determination to enjoy every bite, and even indulges in wiping the remaining crumbs and fruit from the plate with his finger and then licking it. Surely this is something people would pay credits to see--a handsome young Jedi devouring a dessert in the most innocently sensual way imaginable.

I laugh to myself; the meals at the Temple must not be very good. And then I realize I am half-erect from the display I have just watched. If he can make me horny just by eating a pastry, what could he do to me by actually touching me?

I should approach him. As far as I know, the Jedi are not celibate. And even if this one is, I am sure he would tell me "no" in the most polite way.

Would he accept my offer? I am good-looking and have been told I have noble features--high cheekbones, straight nose, honey-brown eyes, and long blond hair, which I tie in a knot at the base of my neck. He might also notice my impeccable taste in clothes--finely tailored with no expense spared. Yes, I am sure the proposition would not insult him.

I begin by sending drinks to his table. He and his friend nod graciously to me when the waiter tells them I have bought their drinks. What must he be thinking now? Does he suspect my interest? Or does he think I am merely trying to get in good with the Jedi?

His friend leans in closely to speak with him. The friend's eyes meet mine briefly and then look away. Perhaps I should clarify things for them. I write a message on a scrap of paper and ask the waiter to hand it to my Jedi.

** Meet me here for dinner. **

I watch him read the note and then turn his gaze to me. There is indecision in his eyes. This is good. I have not been outright refused. His friend takes the note from his hand and looks indignant after reading it. Perhaps he had hoped I was interested in him?

He is getting up to leave, and for a moment I think he is going to walk away without speaking to me... he steps from the table with his friend, but then turns back and walks to mine.

"Thank you for the drinks."

Oh, his voice is so cultured. I am impressed.

"You're most welcome. The Jedi do great things and are rarely thanked."

"Not so great. We are merely servants of those in need."

I am amazed by his humility. How can anyone with a face like that be so humble? He could have a legion of worshipers kneeling at his feet.

He bows to me slightly and is about to turn to leave when I clear my throat to bring his attention back to me. He seems to remember my proposal now.

"Thank you for the invitation, but I can not meet you for dinner."

"Busy saving the galaxy?" I smile at him.

He chuckles softly and then looks over his shoulder to his impatient friend before returning those blue-green eyes to mine.

"I come here occasionally for mid-day meal. Perhaps we will meet again."

"How about tomorrow?"

If I make him nervous he is doing a good job of not showing it. That mysterious Jedi training must be helping him.

"I can't guarantee it."

I nod, but am disappointed. I do not want to push him or frighten him off, so I let him go, deep down knowing he will be back. The curiosity was plain in his eyes.

The next day I wait for him, but he does not come. He has either found it too difficult to get away from his duties, or he is playing hard to get. I like that, and I like the fact that he does not make me wait too long. He arrives at the café the day after and joins me at my table.

As he shrugs off his heavy brown robe I take a closer look at his clothes. His attire is simple and comfortable, designed for travel and ease of movement--very efficient. I let my eyes fall on his slender waist and notice the wide belt and few attachments he carries with him--a small pack with unknown contents, several capsules with unknown contents, and the famous weapon of the Jedi--the lightsaber. I am most intrigued by the weapon, but despite my fascination I allow my eyes to drift back to his eyes.

When our eyes meet I realize that he has allowed me this chance to appraise him. Curiosity in the Jedi is probably nothing new to him.

I finally introduce myself. "I am Olan Kemp."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi." He nods.

I repeat his name in my head only once. It is enough for me to never forget it.

"Was it difficult for you to meet me?"

"Merely a matter of rearranging my schedule."

"Tell me. How does a Jedi occupy his day? Or is that a matter of top security?"

"It's no secret." He grins. "As an apprentice I am in constant training. Academic studies as well as physical training and meditation. This hour I was scheduled for advanced swimming and diving lessons."

"Hmm." An image of this young man stepping out of pool, soaking wet comes to mind--very nice. "I suppose you have to be prepared for anything."

This gets a chuckle out of him. "That's what my master always says."

Ah, a chance to learn more. "What is it like having a master?" He hesitates and I wonder at my boldness. "I've never met a Jedi before. I hope you don't mind..."

"No, it's all right. I actually don't get to speak with non-Jedi often. To answer your question, having a master is probably the most important part of life for a young Jedi. They train you and protect you until you are ready to become a knight."

"And, if I may ask, what is *your* master like?"

His eyes grow bright with the question. I can tell he is visualizing the man now. And it is a fond image to him.

"My master is a fine negotiator and a generous man."

Am I mistaken? Or is that a soft blush coloring his cheeks?

I press for more. "You are close?"

"As any master and apprentice."

He is reserved again. I am not a betting man, but if I could wager a million credits on this, I would say this young man is in love with his master. And I would wager another million that they are not lovers and that his master is not aware of this love.

"My life is fairly straightforward. What about yours, Olan?"

"I am an intergalactic trader here on business with the Trade Federation."

"And what do you trade?"

"Whatever my employer tells me... spices, silks, wines, even starships. He's a collector, so it doesn't hurt to bring back unusual treats from the worlds I visit."

"Call any of those worlds home?"

"Not for a long time. But I could easily settle into life on Coruscant. It's so vital."

"It is that."

The waiter takes our order and within minutes we are eating in partial silence. I have time to regain my wits, but find that I am desperately attracted to this young man, and begin to form a plan to get him into my bed.

"You train all day? Does that leave your night's free?"

"My master allows me free time, yes."

"Would he allow you any this evening say after 22nd hour?"

"It's possible. What did you have in mind?"

I want to say--oh, just a long, hard fuck. Would that be all right with you? But my manners speak first, "I thought we could go out. I understand Coruscant's got quite a reputation for great dance clubs."

He nods. "I've been to a few. I could recommend something."

"Does that mean you'll join me?" Or fuck me, I wonder.

"I'd like to, but I can't..."

"Guarantee it. I know. Let's make plans and if you don't show no hard feelings, okay?" No hard feelings, except for my aching cock.

We finish our meal and arrange to meet at the Galaxy Club in this district. The rest of my day is spent dealing with the Neimoidians and jerking off in the fresher. I know I shouldn't use up all my sexual energy this way, but I have a feeling if I don't release it now, I'll scare the Force right out of my Jedi.

I admit, I am somewhat surprised when he meets me at 22nd hour. I walk, no strut, into the club with him and to a corner table. I want intimacy, but I also want everyone to see us. There are several other Jedi in the club and they take note of us--of him--but do not interfere.

We drink and talk, but do not dance. He is uncomfortable with the idea of dancing with me, so I try to get close to him while talking. I inch my chair closer to his as the night turns to early morning. When I finally make contact, and put my hand on his, he does not pull back. He's been expecting it. Wanting it. This is a good sign.

I hold his hand for some time and then, when the moment is right, I lean in and kiss him. It's a timid, first kiss, but it's lovely. I pull back to look into his eyes and see a need there. We kiss again, this time more roughly. I move over his lips and am dizzy with the sensation. My tongue darts out and is eagerly accepted into his mouth. He allows my exploration and then his tongue is exploring my mouth as well.

Our mouths separate and I kiss a path along his jaw to his ear. "I want you."

He moans his acceptance.

"I have a warm bed waiting for you."

"Yes," he says. "Take me there."

His willingness sends a delicious shiver through me and it takes all my will to kiss him tenderly once more, and very slowly get up from my chair and take his hand in mine. I want nothing more than to ravage him right here on the table.

My rented rooms are not far from the club. It's a spacious and well-furnished penthouse on the 100th floor of a residential complex. He tries not to be impressed by my obvious wealth, but I think he is, or is satisfied that someone of my status would be interested in him.

I make no excuses as to why we are here, and lead him directly into my bedroom. We begin to kiss again, as we had in the air taxi, and I push him back onto the large bed. We are similar in size and I let my weight fall fully on him. In truth, I am a little intimidated by fucking a Jedi. Though I'm confident that Obi-Wan would never hurt me, I also know it is well within his power to do so.

I treat him tenderly, kissing his face and the exposed V of his chest. Our breathing is heavy and rapid and we start to take each other's clothes off. He helps me with his belt and sash and then I work my hands under his tunics, pulling the layers away, feeling the soft skin and firm muscles there. I look on his lean, well-toned body and the sight brings my erection to its full glory.

When we are finally and completely naked, we look on each other with satisfaction. We have chosen our partners well. Both of us are striking human males in peak physical condition.

I am prepared for this encounter, and have many lubricant choices for my lover. Obi-Wan is as eager as I and with a hint of a devilish grin he reaches his hand out and one of the bottles flies off the nightstand and into his hand.

"Nice trick."

I lick my way down his chest to his fully erect cock and then suck him into my mouth and swallow. My Jedi lets out a fierce, primal cry and grabs my head with his hands. I work his cock expertly and enjoy him this way. I learned the art of cock sucking many years ago, and it has helped me close several deals. There is no contract or deal to sign with this Jedi, but I give freely of my talents to him. He is a heartbreaker, this one. He could easily leave a trail of lovers across the galaxy. But I have a feeling he isn't that way. This encounter is something new and dangerous for him.

As my experiences have taught me, I know when he is reaching his climax. It's more than just recognizing the physical signs of thrusting hips, loud moans, head thrashing, and heated skin, it's a sense of timing, of intuitiveness. I let my Jedi come into my mouth and eagerly swallow all he gives. When I finally pull off his cock, he hisses with the contact of cool air and then grabs me for a tight embrace.

"I've never come like that before... I saw stars."

"That's only the beginning. What I have planned will make you think you're going into hyperspace."

The lubricant is next to him on the bed having dropped from his hand with his pleasure. I open it and pour it generously onto my fingers. I'm hoping and guessing that he'll want me inside him this first time. I nervously recap the bottle. My mind is spinning with the anticipation of fucking a Jedi. I know he's a man, but he's also a Jedi and that makes him exotic and the prospect of our coupling more hypnotic.

He consents to being the one getting fucked by turning over onto his stomach. I run my hand down his spine and let my fingers glide into his crack. The sight of that fantastic ass makes me want to weep or get it declared by the Senate as a galactic landmark. It's firm, white, soft, and wanting me.

I kneel between his legs, separating them gently, and then spread his cheeks with my hands. For added effect I lean over and lick his opening. He bucks and yips like a wild beast in heat and I slide a finger inside him. He's not a virgin, but he's also not very practiced. His tight, warm body makes my cock twitch, and I'm eager to finish preparing him so I can plunge madly inside him. But I want to be careful in our first joining. I want to be his lover again, and if I play my cards right, he'll need me as much as I need him.

I know the prep time is over when he starts shouting for me to take him. Who am I to argue with a Jedi? I pull my fingers out, and in a mili-second am plunging into him with my rock hard cock. Gods, if his ass around my cock isn't the most amazing thing on this planet.

My excitement and need for him make it almost impossible to wait for him to adjust to me filling him. But I do wait... what seems an eternity. I raise his hips slightly and hang on as I begin to work myself into what seems like a drug-induced state. Thrusting harder and deeper.

"Faster," he cries out, looking at me briefly over his shoulder.

I willingly comply. And our bodies rock into each other in our growing need to be more closely joined.

"I want to fuck you all night," I tell him as I continue to thrust in and out, my hips slapping into his ass.

He moans and pleads and thrusts back into me. He is the most delicious partner I have ever had. And I begin to wonder how I will be able to leave this planet without him.

Our sweat-slick bodies move fluidly now. This ride is pure lust, pure adrenaline. And I know it won't be long before I climax when he begins to talk dirty to me. Telling me how good my cock feels inside him. How fucking hard I am. And how much he has needed this. I'm happy to help and make several last, deep thrusts before I come inside him. Seconds later he's coming on his own hand as he pumps himself right over the edge.

We lay in a sweaty heap on the bed for a long while, and then he moves out from under me. In my exhaustion it takes me a moment to realize that he's getting out of bed to dress. I lean up on my elbows and watch him pick his clothes off the floor. Somehow seeing his Jedi uniform scattered about the room seems sacrilegious, but I don't know why.

"You're leaving."

"I'm sorry. I have to get back."

His tone makes me believe he is truly sorry. I get out of bed too, and put on my robe. I watch him dress and then he is a Jedi again. Standing before me as though he was ready for a tough round of negotiations. That's the beauty of their simple attire. They're travelers and negotiators like me, but unlike my elegant dress, their simple tunics, travel boots, and plain brown robes make them humble and ready to serve.

He turns to look out the floor-to-ceiling window.

"It's a spectacular view, if I do say so myself." I put my arms around his waist from behind.

He is quiet, contemplative, and after a moment I guess why. He can see the towers of the Jedi Temple from here.

"Your home," I whisper in his ear.

"Yes."

"Are you thinking of him?"

"Him?"

"Your master. You're thinking of him?"

"No."

"Is it permitted for Jedi to be together?"

He turns his head to me, and leans into my embrace. "Yes. Preferred actually."

"I see. And you would prefer to be with your master?"

His back stiffens at my question. "I am where I want to be," he says, and turns his face to capture my mouth in a hard kiss.

"I'm glad. But if he wanted you... you would prefer him over me."

"Why are you asking me this?" He pulls out of my embrace.

"Curious, I guess." It's only a half-truth. I am curious, but I'm also fearful of the competition.

"My master is very special to me, but he *is* my master and I am his apprentice."

"Okay. Now you're acting like I know what you're talking about. Remember, I'm an outsider. I don't know that much about your Jedi ways."

"My master does not know how I feel, and even if he did and felt the same, I'm sure he would not act on it until after my knighting."

His explanation is tinged with frustration, and I can't help but feel a little used. But I keep my chin up, and remind myself I'm not in this for the long term. I can't be.

"You're welcome in my bed anytime, Obi-Wan."

My open-ended invitation seems to surprise him a little. Understandably. He's just told me that he's in love with his master, and I've just offered to fuck him anytime he pleases. "I mean that, Obi-Wan. You're a beautiful young man, and I think we have a good time together. I only ask that if you choose to sleep with me again, you don't call out your master's name."

"What?"

His eyes are wide and disbelieving. I'm a little confused myself, but then I've only just realized that's exactly what happened tonight.

"You called out the name Qui-Gon. I assume that's your master's name."

Obi-Wan blushes fiercely. "I am sorry, Olan. I don't remember doing that."

"I'll let you get away with it this time, but never again. Understood?"

My tone is just right. It's serious, but tender, and he accepts my conditions, and kisses me goodnight. He will be in my bed again soon.

Over the next two weeks, Obi-Wan comes to me many times. He seems to be able to get away from the Temple any time he pleases. I would like to meet this master of his and tell him what a fool he is. Does he know what he's missing? He can't or he would pounce on his apprentice immediately.

In a way, I have become Obi-Wan's teacher as well. I have taught him many things about giving and receiving pleasure. Our arrangement has been satisfactory to us both. Knowing that we are together for one thing--sex, great sex--and that it can be nothing more, has given us much freedom. We fuck with abandon. Vicious, wild fucking, using each other's body for greatest satiation.

Tonight I am straddling his thighs as I impale myself on his cock. I want to give him pleasure. I need to give him pleasure. I ride him senseless, ignoring the discomfort I feel as I drop myself again and again on his stiff shaft.

"Fuck me, Obi-Wan," I scream out, and bounce on his lap as I bring us both to completion.

Even after we climax, I can't stop myself from sliding up and down on his wilting cock until it slips from me. There isn't an inch of his body I do not know, or an inch of mine that does not ache for his touch.

We have barely come back to our senses when I hear my comm panel beeping with an urgent message. I groan at the interruption, wrap myself in my robe, and decide to take the call in private in another room.

It's my employer F'Kar Kryta. And he is unhappy.

"Sir, may I help you?"

"The Neimoidians are not renewing the contract. What the hell are you doing, Kemp?"

"Not renewing the contract? This is news to me."

"I have heard you were too busy with your new lover to meet with them. Is that true?"

"Of course not. I've made every meeting. They're just using that as an excuse. I will take care of this in the morning."

Kryta is shaking his head. "Too late for that. Simtar has signed with them for the spice trade. You have failed. I am disappointed."

Kryta's verbal reprimands are never severe; it's the punishment that follows that I fear. Perhaps he will be lenient since this is my first mistake.

My employer disappears from the screen and his female assistant Kayla comes forward. "You are to return at once... and you know the consequence should you run."

I swallow. Hard. To return means certain torture, but to run means certain death.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"He is very angry, Kemp, I'm sorry," she says, but then I see a light in her eyes, even through the blue haze of the hologram. "You know how he enjoys gifts... perhaps if you brought him something special he would be lenient." The transmission ends.

Bring him something special? That is nearly impossible. Kryta has practically everything of value in the known universe. And yet, if I could find something new, exotic to bring him, it might just be enough to keep my position and get by with just a slap on the wrist. It's worth a try. But I don't have time to search the galaxy for an addition to his collection. If I don't start for Munto Codru immediately, Kryta will assume I'm running and send his bounty hunters after me.

Just then, my young Jedi lover comes into the room. He knocks lightly on the door and then enters, wearing just his uniform pants. My groin twitches on seeing him, and I am eager to ravish him again.

"Everything all right?"

"Problems with the Neimoidians. I have to return to Munto Codru."

"You're leaving?" His eyes are sad, and he sits on my lap, taking me in a deep kiss.

"I'm sorry. We both knew this would have to end. I wish I could take you with me..." And then something clicks in my mind.

Maybe I can take him with me. No. That's wrong. How can I think such a thing? But of all the exotic and varied lovers my employer keeps in his harem, I've never seen a Jedi. Surely such a gift would exonerate me from this failure and several future failures.

But I can't seriously consider doing this to Obi-Wan, can I? I've enjoyed his company, his laughter, his youthful enthusiasm, and most of all his body. How can I turn around after all of that, and use him to save my hide from Kryta's wrath?

Whatever Kryta has planned for me will be creative and very painful. I have been witness to several of his punishments, ranging from solitary confinement to torture by flesh-eating beetles. Losing this spice contract surely ranks with flesh-eating beetles.

"It's late. I'd better get back."

"Meet me here tomorrow at mid-day."

"Mid-day? I don't know..."

"Please, Obi-Wan. To say goodbye."

Was I begging him to save me? Sacrifice his freedom so that I could maintain the lifestyle to which I had grown accustomed?

"I'll try," he tells me and then kisses me again, before getting up to dress and leave.

He's out the door in minutes, and my mind is racing to formulate a plan. How does one go about kidnapping a Jedi?

I spend the night and early hours of the morning calling in favors and making contacts. I arrange for transport off planet no questions asked, and buy black market drugs, syringes, manacles, and the most expensive item of all--a Force-dampening collar. If I'm going to do this, I have to do it right, and I've been told by more than one contact that the collar is a precaution I must not forget. It's amazing what you can learn about the Jedi when you put your mind and your money to it.

Yes, in order to save myself, I've changed my Jedi's status from lover to pleasure slave. He will save me, but that's what Jedi do best, isn't it? They live to serve, Obi-Wan told me so himself. I can live with that and my betrayal. After all, we had an arrangement. It was only sex.

He arrives at my penthouse the next day at 12th hour as asked. I have a succulent, light meal prepared and we share it with good conversation. He suspects nothing, and even gives me signals that he wants me. I would love to take him now, but time is limited. We need to be at the transport within the hour.

"When are you expected back at the Temple?"

"Two hours. I have an exam," he says and finishes his tea. It's laced with a sedative, but I know it's not enough to put him under. It will make him sleepy and easier for me to inject him with a more powerful drug.

He blinks at me, and I can see the drug is beginning to affect him.

"I'm feeling unusually tired today."

"We were at it fairly late last night."

He grins. "Yes, I enjoyed that."

I push down the memories. If I'm going to do this, I have to be strong and distance myself from him in mind and body.

He gets up from the table and comes over to me. I stand and take him into my arms and we kiss. This is more difficult than I thought, but I've made my decision and I must proceed. With his lips on mine I reach under my sash to the syringe concealed there. I take it in my hand and maneuver it carefully, stabbing the side of his neck with the thin needle. He pulls away in shock and pain, and reaches for the syringe. But it's too late. The drug is in him.

"Olan?" He's confused and looking at the drop of blood on his finger. "What have you done?"

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. It's necessary for my survival."

He drops to his knees, clinging to my waist as he tries to remain upright. It is frightening and a little exhilarating to see him this helpless.

"Why?" he asks and then collapses at my feet.

"You wouldn't understand," I tell his unconscious form.

// Mast--- //

I'm in the middle of an intense discussion on varying degrees of the Force and Force awareness with Masters Windu and Yoda, and three newly knighted Jedi when I hear my padawan through our training bond. But the connection is brief.

// Obi-Wan?// I return the mental call, but there is no response. Perhaps Obi-Wan is nervous about his hyper-navigational exam this afternoon. I check the chrono on the wall, noting there is still another hour before the exam.

"Master Jinn." The voice of Knight Mita interrupts my thoughts. "We were just saying that the Living Force is negligible in rocks."

"I disagree," I say, and begin to explain my opinion on the intensity of the Living Force in all things sentient and not sentient.

The first thing I touch is his lightsaber. It's lighter than I would've guessed, but it's also very dangerous, so I quickly set it inside a lockable case. Then I pull Obi-Wan with much effort into the bedroom where a large travel trunk is waiting. I drop him inside, as gently as possible, and retrieve his robe and put that inside as well. He will only need to be in this cramped space for a short while. Once he's on the transport, I can take him out.

Several droids arrive as planned and take my luggage to the transport. I board and we are away. Coruscant is soon behind us, only a twinkling speck in black space. I check my chrono and realize my prize will not be missed for nearly an hour. I give the pilot final instructions on covering our trail and he puts the ship into hyperspace.

Now I must tend to my very special gift--the rare jewel who will secure my place, once again, at Kryta's side. I return to my cabin and open the trunk. My Jedi is still unconscious. I remove him from the trunk and lay him on the bed, taking off his boots and belt, and manacling his hands and feet to the bed. I check the instructions on the sedative. He should be waking soon, but I'll need to give him another drug to keep his mind unfocused and unable to use the Force to escape. In time I will put the Force-dampening collar on him, but I want to experiment with these drugs first. With the collar on, he won't have access to the Force, but he'll still have his wits about him, and that could be dangerous. So the drugs will help.

It's several hours before Obi-Wan awakes.

"My head." He tries to lift his hand to reach for it, but the manacles prevent him from moving. "What's this?"

He still trusts me implicitly--or is it just the drugs--and he has yet to realize what's happening to him.

"You're traveling with me to Munto Codru to meet my employer."

"But I have to meditate in the garden. Master Yoda won't like me missing his lesson."

Master Yoda? I thought his master's name was Qui-Gon. The drugs must be confusing him. I'm not sure I like this effect, but I have two days to find the proper dosage.

Master Ren, the astro-navigational instructor, is making his way into the meeting room. He looks distressed, irritable, as he walks up to me.

"Master Jinn, I wish you would inform me when your apprentice is not going to be present for one of my exams."

"I don't understand. Obi-Wan was prepared to take your exam today. Didn't he show up?"

"No, sir, that is what I'm trying to tell you. Your apprentice was a no-show. I'm very disappointed."

Suddenly my mind races back to the moment I heard Obi-Wan. I reach for my commlink. "Obi-Wan." There is no answer.

I look to Mace and Yoda and then, in one sweeping motion, I am standing, putting on my robe, and exiting the room. I don't sense anything from my padawan, but there is definitely a disturbance in the Force, one I unwisely ignored earlier.

I walk through the Jedi halls, a man determined, and the other Jedi clear a path for me. I check our quarters, he is not there. I check the dining hall, no Obi-Wan. The library, the garden, he is nowhere to be found. Finally in the training salle I see his good friend Garen Muln.

"Obi-Wan did not take his exam and he is nowhere in the Temple."

The young apprentice has just finished sparring and it takes him a moment to understand what I'm telling him. "He missed his exam?"

"Yes. And I can not raise him on my commlink. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

The flush in Garen's cheeks tells me that the young man has a very good idea where Obi-Wan has gone. But he hesitates in telling me.

"This is no time to be concerned about breaking a confidence, Padawan Muln. I sense Obi-Wan is in danger and I need to find him."

"In danger? I knew that guy was trouble."

"What guy?"

"The guy at the café. Olan something... Olan Kemp. He hit on Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan thought it was amusing how obsessed this guy was with him. So he went out with him."

"Went out?"

"Well, more than going out. They've been seeing each other for about two weeks now."

I step back from Garen to consider this. Obi-Wan has been distracted lately, and requesting an unusual amount of time away from the Temple. But since he's reached his maturity I thought it good to allow him this freedom.

"Where can I find this Olan Kemp?"

"He lives in the Senate district. A penthouse, I believe."

"Do you know the address?"

"Sorry, Master Jinn. I never asked."

I turn to leave, and Garen calls to me once more.

"Master Jinn. Let me help you. I know what Kemp looks like."

"Thank you, Garen. That would be appreciated."

I put Garen to work in the Temple Library searching for any records on Olan Kemp or other aliases he might use. I suspect it may be difficult to find him, and a visual record will help.

He gives me the name of the café where they met the stranger and I head there on my own. The proprietor tells me that Kemp has been coming there every day for over two weeks. Except he didn't come today.

"Do you know where he lives?"

"He always arrives on foot from that direction." The older man says pointing east. "Must not be far."

I head in the direction he's indicated and begin to inquire at every residential building. After stopping at over two dozen buildings I finally find his.

"But he left about three hours ago," the young Sullustan concierge tells me.

"Do you know when he's expected to return?"

"He's gone for good. He paid his bills and shipped out."

My breath hitches, but I manage to speak. "Was he alone?"

"Yes, and it's interesting you should ask. I never saw his young friend leave."

Obi-Wan was here. "May I see his apartment?"

The Sullustan agrees without the use of any Jedi mind tricks. We take the turbolift to the 100th floor. The penthouse is still furnished, and a little untidy from what appears to have been a hasty departure. I can sense Obi-Wan's Force signature--it's fresh. The evidence seems to suggest that my padawan's disappearance is not temporary and that it is somehow connected to Kemp's sudden departure.

"What do you know of Kemp?"

"He was always meeting with the Neimoidians in the Senate."

I waste no more time in this place, where the scent of sex is all too present. I hail an air taxi and am in the Trade Federation's chambers in less than an hour. The Neimoidians are nervous by my visit, but I'm not interested in their legal or illegal transactions.

"I need to know about Olan Kemp. Who is he? Where is he from?"

"An outsider," the Neimoidian Senator tells me calmly. "A middle-man."

"A middle-man for whom?"

"I can not say. We never concluded our trade agreement and were never told who our potential partner was."

The Neimoidian is being elusive, but not exactly lying. I think he really doesn't know for whom Kemp is working.

"What was Kemp interested in trading?"

"Spices," the Senator's assistant answers. "But he was preoccupied and we became unhappy with our dealings with him."

"Preoccupied?"

"A new lover," the Neimoidian Senator says quietly, almost delicately.

I fight down an odd flare of jealousy in my belly. I've known Obi-Wan was sexually active for some time, but I thought his liaisons were brief and with other Jedi. This man, Olan Kemp, must be something to tempt my Obi-Wan away from the safety of the Temple and his friends.

The Neimoidians can be of no further help, and I return to the Temple to see if Garen has discovered anything. Thankfully he has found a record of Kemp and I now have an image of the man. He appearance is pleasant, but his file tells another story. He is wanted in several systems for theft, bribery, and murder.

"How could Obi-Wan have gotten involved with this criminal?"

"I think he really cares for Obi-Wan," Garen says, trying to soothe me, but his words act only as a dagger into my already aching heart.

"I'll have to check the departures. I'm sure he's taken Obi-Wan off planet."

"Let me go with you, Master Jinn."

"No, you've been a great help, but I can manage from here." I pat his shoulder and then leave with the datapad of Kemp's visual record inside my robe.

I inform Master Yoda of Obi-Wan's apparent kidnapping. He is as dismayed as I, and approves my search for my padawan. With the aid of several other Jedi, and with Senate clearance, we remotely check the records of all the landing ports on the planet. The search is quickly narrowed to transports leaving between the 12th and 14th hours. There are one hundred and five. With more study, that list is gleaned to thirty-five. We send an image of Obi-Wan and his kidnapper to the spaceport authorities, to no avail. No one has seen them, but that is no surprise.

Since I cannot effectively track thirty-five ships, I head back to my quarters to meditate. I concentrate on freeing my mind of the fear that is growing inside me. Olan Kemp is dangerous and I have no idea where he has taken Obi-Wan or why. I blame myself for this terrible situation. I gave Obi-Wan personal freedom to be with his friends and explore his sexuality. I thought this freedom would be good for him, but I was thinking only of myself. I needed to put some distance between us, because of my own growing feelings for him. I am in love with him, and I am afraid of where that love may lead. But now I must vow to find him and bring him home safely and then to be truthful with him. He belongs in my arms--if he will have me.

Somehow I manage not to have sex with him during our voyage. Well, actually in his condition, it would be rape. But I am still impressed with my will power. This beautiful young man chained to my bed is very tempting indeed. I pretend the reason I haven't taken him is respect, but really it's because I don't want my employer knowing that I've already had his gift. If he ever found out that I fucked this Jedi and fucked him well for two weeks before deciding to make a gift of him, I would be in line for torture and possibly death. And since my master is a Codru-Ji, a humanoid-canine species, he has a very keen sense of smell and would smell the sex on him.

Where am I?

My eyes blink open to a brightly lit room. There is no furniture except the bed on which I am laying and a desk and chair. I move to sit up and investigate further, but I'm stopped. "What the...?" My wrists and ankles are bound to the bed.

My eyes dart around the room. How long have I been here? On this starship? Then I remember... Olan and I were having mid-day meal together. He was saying good-bye before he returned to Munto Codru.

He drugged me! Yes, I remember it clearly now, though there is still a heavy dose of drug pulsing through my veins. We kissed and he stabbed my neck with a needle. Something about taking me with him...

I pull at the restraints again, but it's pointless. The drug makes it nearly impossible for me to concentrate. It jumbles my thoughts. I can feel the Force around me, but cannot call it to me.

"Master," I breathe, feeling the desperation come upon me. // Master.// Does Qui-Gon even know I'm missing?

Just then the door slides open. It's Olan. He looks as handsome as always and is wearing a long, elegant night blue tunic.

"You're awake."

"Why am I chained to this bed?"

"You're my insurance policy." He walks to the bed. He's holding something behind his back. And the look on his face gives me no comfort.

"For your sake I hope this is a game." I try to sound as sternly Jedi as possible, though I am reeling from his transformation from lover to hostage-taker.

He chuckles. "I wish that were so, Obi-Wan. But circumstances have changed."

He brings his hand around and holds out a silver durasteel collar above me. I have a sick feeling in my stomach and it's not from the drugs.

"That's a Force-dampening collar. They're banned in the Republic." Somehow he's acquired the most heinous tool used against the Jedi.

"Yes, and it was very expensive," he says and waves it in front of me. "But I think a good investment."

"Don't do this to me, Olan. You don't know what it's like for a Jedi not to be able to feel the Force."

He can't have any idea, since I don't even really know. I've heard stories of Force-sensitives going mad, committing suicide, but I've never experienced the horror myself. The fear of what that collar can do makes me struggle against the restraints. I have to get out of here--wherever here is.

"Sorry, love. Just look at it as another Jedi sacrifice. You're saving my life by doing this."

"No, Olan," I say, shaking my head. "Didn't I mean anything to you?"

He leans over, grasps my chin firmly and gives me a fierce kiss. "Yes, you meant something... That's why I'm sorry to give you up." And then he is slipping on the cold metal collar, snapping it, locking it in place around my neck.

"No!" I shout at him, gasping. I feel choked, but not from loss of air. Everything is collapsing in on me. The room is shrinking. I feel alone. I thrash at my bonds, my chest heaving, my eyes wild, my mind panicked. "No!"

"Maybe if you're a good, my employer will release you from this collar and you can entertain him with your Jedi tricks," he says coldly, and then leaves the room.

I scream at him as the door closes. Shouting threats, pleas. "My master will come for me!" I pull again and again on the restraints, my wrists beginning to bruise from my efforts. "Olan, please!"

(continued in part 2)