Master
Apprentice  Archive
Two Worlds: The Rescue
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Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Rating: R this story, moving to NC-17 in later stories.
Archive: M&A, my page http://www.shadowynd.com/~elaynas_den/index.html, anyone else please ask.
Category: Drama, romance, action, extreme AU.
Feedback: Please! Any amount any time.
Notes: This fic was inspired by an absolutely gorgeous picture from Knight Van and a certain suggestion regarding Qui's nature from Padawan Boots. The combination took root together and wouldn't go away. This is my first WIP, which seems to have become a Serial In Progress. Please bear with me as I figure it out. :-)
Thanks: To Kimberlite for wonderful betaing, to Diane and Tracy for oceanography discussions, and Dagmar and Mac for the lovely drawings of MerQui.
Dedicated: To Van and Boots for inspiration and giving me lots of warm and fuzzy encouragement.
Summary: A Jedi Padawan is saved from certain death by a mysterious rescuer.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to the majestic George Lucas.
Blue...
Blue and silver everywhere. The light blue of the sky over his head, the dark blue of the ocean lapping at his feet, the shiny silver of the starfish scattered around the beach, some of them slowly crawling toward his body. The harder gray silver of the chains holding him down, binding him to the weight sunk impossibly deep into the sand.
In normal circumstances, the sold tiranium chains and weight would not have posed him problems. A moment of mental concentration, a link forged to the Force, and his bonds would have snapped open.
The bleeding mark on his forehead made circumstances abnormal, the trickle of red blood sliding over his temple and onto the sand preventing him from connecting to his best ally to free himself.
One of the starfish was creeping onto his torso, the suckers on its five arms feeling odd and sticky on his skin. He shifted in the rough sand but the starfish was undeterred, crossing to rest on his chest. He raised his head to examine the creature, wondering what was attracting it to him. The Red Cabal had left him only his tan breeches, and the skin of his chest was turning a faint pink. Blue. Silver. Red. Pink. Tan. He was going to die with those colors washing through his mind as the cold salt water flooded over his face, drowning him.
Shutting his eyes, he centered his mind, letting his thoughts drift. If he couldn't access the Force by directed concentration, maybe he could achieve his objective another way. Within his mind, the colors shifted and waved, floating gently, his mind following, settling into the rhythm of the ocean. Blue, silver, pink, tan, red lapped together, cresting into small waves before breaking. Using the lapping motion, he wrapped the colors around the hard gray chains, squeezing, not tightly but slowly, still keeping to the eternal motion of the waves sounding so loud in his ears.
Nothing. Nothing at all. The chains remained obstinately solid.
He opened his eyes, succumbing momentarily to bitterness, exhaling in anger, flinging his body up at the chains, as if physical force could achieve what his mind could not. He was going to die and the sadistic Red Cabal would win, continuing their criminal domination of the S'valli. Somewhere on this benighted planet, his Master was in trouble, also in danger of his life. His only hope was that his Master would succeed where Obi-Wan had failed.
Surrendering to the inevitable, he allowed his body to go boneless. He would try to sleep, smoothing his way into the Force. There would be serenity when his time came.
A noise disturbed him, a soft slithering sound as if something was dragging over the sand, and beads of water dripped on him from above. Opening his eyes again, he saw a man leaning over him, a man with a strong face, the noble nose slightly crooked, the eyes blue as the ocean, his long hair brown and streaked with silver. His bronzed chest was bare and well-developed, the shoulders and arms powerfully muscled. Obi-Wan glanced down and saw -
No, not a man. A merman, his torso tapering into a tail of blue and green scales. Obi-Wan had heard rumors that a secret race of people inhabited the oceans. Most of the S'valli regarded legends of the Cean as a wild fantasy, a tale for the superstitious who claimed the water dwellers were secretive souls who communed only with each other but that they could be kind, rescuing endangered sailors from boating disasters.
"Hello."
"You are bound." The merman poked one finger at the chains inquisitively, as if not quite understanding the situation.
"Yes. I am a Jedi Knight." Well, still only a Padawan, but it didn't seem necessary to complicate the explanation. Would the Cean even know of the Jedi? "My Master and I are on this planet to fight bad people. They knocked me out and bound me here. Will you help me get free?"
The merman pulled at the chain, trying to yank the ends out of the sand, but the links did not budge.
"It's weighted tiranium. It's very strong. Do you have anything to cut? Anything that would cut metal?"
The merman shook his head, an expression of frustration on his face. "I have things, human things, but they are too far. You will drown first."
"Then will you - " What could he ask? He desperately wanted to leave a last message for his Master, but would the merman talk to humans? Surely, sooner or later, someone would come by this deserted beach and find his body. Or would the Red Cabal arrive first, to remove the chains and make his death look accidental? Should he endanger the merman by asking him to wait, or advise him to flee?
Then the decision became moot. The merman flipped around, his arms digging into the wet sand to pull himself back into the ocean. A last flash of his tail and he disappeared. Obi-Wan waved weakly, half convinced he was hallucinating. The burning sun and lack of drinkable water must be interfering with his mind.
But the hallucination returned within a few minutes, efficiently packing a mossy feeling substance on Obi-Wan's forehead, binding it down with a strip of seaweed. "The bleeding must stop. It is dangerous to lose this much blood."
"It won't matter if I drown."
The smile he received was exquisitely gentle. "I won't let you drown. The universe needs our Jedi."
The words sounded eerily familiar but it took Obi-Wan a few seconds to place them. Oh yes, one of those holo-vids created by the Jedi Council to encourage citizens to willingly bring Force sensitive children for testing. Obi-Wan flipping head over heels during saber practice was one of the images used to demonstrate the skills taught the Jedi. Did the Cean watch holo-vids? "But how?"
"I will breathe here," the merman said, touching the gills on each side of his neck, "and breathe for you with my mouth."
"Oh." A useful facet of Cean physiology he had never considered. But then he'd never dreamed the Cean really existed. He was learning amazing things today, this day that would not be the last day of his life.
"Quiet now. Save your strength."
They waited in silence for the water to reach Obi-Wan's chin. The merman was as good as his word, sealing Obi-Wan's lips with his own. He felt lost in the water, unable to hear or talk, breathing only with assistance. Though he could still touch and see, he felt strangely sense deprived, and held fiercely onto a length of the merman's hair that floated by his hand, holding the merman's gaze with the same thoroughness.
How long would high tide last? It had been too long since he studied oceanography, and researching tides hadn't seemed necessary when planning for this mission. Helping to destroy a criminal syndicate hadn't seemed to have much relevance to the oceans.
Perhaps an hour passed, Obi-Wan's body floating in the ocean, bound by silver chains and the merman's strong arms. The tail slid between Obi-Wan's legs, and he gratefully wrapped his legs around it, the scales feeling supple and surprisingly warm. Relying on the kindness of strangers was common for Jedi, but Obi-Wan was surprised by the sense of security the merman radiated. His breath was even, his arms steady, his body a solid rock in Obi-Wan's watery prison. Then the unexpected but magnificent sensation of the Force invaded Obi-Wan's world, the individual links of the chains breaking, falling off his body.
The merman pushed him away and he emerged from the water, spluttering and half-swimming, half-walking to the blessed sanctuary of the beach. "Master," Obi-Wan said in pleased surprise, dropping to his knees.
Yoda's three-fingered hand touched the seaweed binding on Obi-Wan's forehead, his eyes wide in relief. "Hurt, you are, Padawan."
"Yes." Obi-Wan grasped Yoda's hand, delighted to be alive and to see his Master. The Force protected them both. "But you are well, Master. I feared for your life."
"As I feared for yours." Yoda's brow scrunched with curiosity. "Thought I was freeing your body, I did, until I felt your spirit."
"I was saved by a merman, Master. One of the Cean. He breathed for me." Obi-Wan began to walk back into the ocean, searching the waves for a trace of his rescuer. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called, "Please, please come back. I want to thank you."
"Shy, they are said to be, by those who believe they exist."
Just as Obi-Wan was about to concede defeat, the merman's head and torso emerged from the water. "Your thanks are not necessary, Jedi Knight."
"But I do give them, merman. Thank you for my life. I shall not forget your kindness."
The merman inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Harmony to you, Jedi Knight."
"Obi-Wan. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my master, Yoda." It seemed important to tell the merman his name, even if they would never meet again. He wanted his savior to know at least one thing about the man he rescued.
"Harmony to you, Obi-Wan and Yoda." After repeating the blessing, the merman was gone, diving back into the waves, the beautiful blue and green tail glinting with silver as it vanished into the ocean.
"He didn't give me his name," Obi-Wan said, oddly disappointed.
"See him again, you shall."
"I will?"
Yoda's only response to Obi-Wan's question was a short nod as he turned and began waddling away. "Come Padawan. Much there is to do still. Heal you, clothe you, we must."
Obi-Wan knew better than to ask more. The glimpses of the future Yoda shared were always brief, though Obi-Wan was never sure whether the lack of description was due to Yoda's own ignorance or his unwillingness to share greater knowledge with his Padawan. With a last wistful glance at the ocean, he followed his Master. If it was the Will of the Force, he would meet the merman again.
Quist dove deep, his body undulating with unconscious ease as he swam, remembering every moment of the disturbing encounter. From the security of the ocean, he had watched the human for a long time. This one did not conform to the normal habits. He had no paraphernalia with him - no large piece of fabric, food, coverings for his eyes, boxes that played strange but pleasant noise, nor any of the other things Quist observed humans using while lying in the sun. He rarely flexed or stretched, and did not turn to bake the other side of his body. Finally, when the ocean waves began creeping up his legs, Quist could not restrain his curiosity any longer. The humans who lay on the beach generally did not allow themselves to get wet. The children would run in and out, but the sunning adults would shun the ocean. Quist had been compelled to talk to the human and question his strange behavior.
A large serrat swam in front of him, and Quist paused, letting it pass. The serrats were normally gentle and friendly, but it was always wise to accord a being so large a certain measure of respect. Powerful arms paddled to keep him in place while he contemplated whether anyone had seen him.
A scolding. Yes, he would get a scolding from the elders if they learned of his action. He always did whenever he talked to the humans, and this was his longest encounter with their kind. Long ago, the elders had reluctantly accepted that it was wise to save the humans from drowning, as the teams of rescuers would invade their world for many days to search for the bodies. Quist enjoyed finding floatable debris and helping sinking humans onto a safe platform, watching them from a distance to be sure rescue would arrive. The elders would shake their heads, unable to understand how he could tolerate such closeness to the unfortunates who were bound to the hard land, unable to experience the vast comfort of the oceans. And they would scold him for the risks he took, even as they thanked him for performing the necessary deed.
But this - if this human had died, he wouldn't have floated in the oceans, endangering them with discovery. His lifeless body would have stayed snared on the beach by the metal chains. Tiranium. Quist sounded out the word, always pleased to learn more human vocabulary. But how could one human do that to another? Quist tried to imagine a member of the Cean trapping another on a rock until his scales withered and flaked from the heat in the sky. It was inconceivable.
The serrat's mighty tail fins waved by, revealing Xan waiting on the other side, frowning impatiently at him. [You've been up there again, haven't you?]
[Why do you think so?] Quist asked evasively.
[I was looking for you. I couldn't find you. You are always up there when I can't find you.] Xan swam closer. Despite the frown, he was beautiful, his long black hair floating around his head, his skin the perfect white of an inside of an allus shell, and his tail the deepest black found in the ocean overlaid with a glitter of silver. He poked at Quist's chest. [And you look even browner.]
The color on Quist's skin was a source of constant disagreement between the two of them. None of the other Cean ever suffered such an affliction, but Quist spent too much time on the top of the ocean, and the heat from the sun seared his skin. Once Quist realized the coloring wouldn't hurt him, he ignored it as an acceptable consequence of his interests, but Xan found it unattractive. [I saved a human from drowning.] He responded without giving details. Xan hadn't seen him, so Xan wouldn't know how long Quist had spent with the human. And Xan wouldn't ask, having no desire to learn more of the land dwellers.
[You shouldn't waste your time on them.]
[You know the elders have approved. The rescue missions have come too close to our world.]
Xan's frown deepened into a scowl. [Their approval was reluctant. If you keep testing it - ]
Quist slid his hands around Xan's slim waist, pulling him into an embrace. Xan's father was the leader of the elders and an unhappy Xan would take his complaints to the one man who might find a way to stop Quist from further exploration. He kissed Xan to distract him, curling his broad tail around Xan's slimmer one. [It is over now. Let us spend the rest of the waking hours together.]
What would it have been like, if he could have talked to the human like this while breathing for him? What might he have learned from the young human? Though passive, his lips had been as sweet as Xan's. Quist had been careful not to let his tongue invade the human's mouth, though now he wished he had. At least, perhaps, at the very end, as the human was being freed by some invisible power that broke the chains. Would his mouth have tasted as sweet as his lips? Would it have been exciting to learn his tongue and teeth? To feel him learning Quist in return?
Two strong hands pushed against his chest and Quist found himself shoved away from Xan. [You are still thinking of him. Of the human.]
[They fascinate me, Xan. You know that. But you are my love.]
But Xan was not in the mood to be satisfied, his temper bitter and petulant. [Go back and play with your humans, Quist.]
He swam away and Quist let him go. Xan would sulk for a while, but he would get over his irritation. Quist would seek him out at the eating time, and they would make up. Following him now would only increase his anger and create more dissension. Quist smiled. Though he did not enjoy Xan's unhappiness, at least it would give him time to seek out not humans, but his collection of human artifacts.
The humans all looked very similar to Quist, with their odd lower limbs, their skin all one shade, and no distinctive tail coloring. This one though...for some reason, Quist thought he had seen this one before. Now he just had to see if he could remember where.
Relived to be safe and back to normality, Obi-Wan followed his Master, two spaces behind and to Yoda's left. If he had gone into the Force, he would have accepted it as a Jedi, but he would prefer that time to arrive after he achieved the status of Jedi Knight. Preferably many decades later, after hundreds of successful missions and perhaps a padawan or two of his own trained to Knighthood.
They walked up the beach, Obi-Wan studying the ridges on the top of Yoda's skull at he shuffled in the loose sand. He had gazed down at that head so often in the last ten years that sometimes he dreamed in his sleep of tracing the pattern of grooves. He wondered what it would have been like if his Master had been tall, if Obi-Wan had always followed a broad back cloaked in dark brown. The merman was tall, that slick tail extending well beyond Obi-Wan's feet. He shivered, remembering the closeness of that big body in the isolation of the water, the shiver changing to a groan as he spied a speeder bike resting on the edge of the sand where it turned into dirt, small scrubby plants with surprisingly pretty purple flowers growing with abandon.
"Oh Master, you didn't," Obi-Wan said with dismay. While Obi-Wan liked piloting and speed, the adrenaline rush that came with executing a perfect maneuver with no margin for error, Yoda was...well, Yoda could be downright thoughtless and reckless, having an unfortunate tendency to acquire the most inappropriate vehicle possible while on their missions.
"Fast it is, and fast I needed. Could feel you only distantly. Difficult to ride though, except with the Force. Be driver, you shall." Yoda clambered on top of the speeder bike, sitting well back on the seat.
Obi-Wan swung his leg over and settled into place, knowing that little would be achieved by trying to scold his Master and recognizing that much was his own fault. As a youngster, Obi-Wan's humor tended to have a mischievous streak, a trait that his Master emulated and encouraged. In his maturity though, Obi-Wan founded himself increasingly conscious of his dignity and the image he should be projecting as he neared the time of his Trials. Yoda, however, stubbornly refused to leave the past behind. A sly quip, a mocking jest, a clever comment here and there to alleviate the tension suited Obi-Wan fine. A Jedi Master perched on top of a speeder, the wind ruffling his wispy white hair, his ears and short brown cloak flapping in the wind, his feet not reaching the pedals, the machine propelled by a combination of its own power and invisible assistance, would not command the respect Obi-Wan felt was owed to Yoda.
Resigned, he muttered, "Yes Master." At least the speeder appeared well designed. With his minimal clothing, an overheating engine would be most unpleasant. "Where to?"
"North. Up the shore. A small village is there." Yoda's arms snuggled around Obi-Wan's bare waist as the Padawan kicked the machine into gear and they sped off.
Two hours later, Obi-Wan felt truly well for the first time since the Red Cabal had attacked them. The village economy obviously centered on both fishing and tourism, but the weather was cool, making it easy for them to locate a small hotel with a vacancy. By the time Obi-Wan emerged from showering, Yoda had returned with clothes and food. Decent clothes, Obi-Wan was pleased to see, plain brown trousers, a cream colored shirt, and brown shoes, a color combination that made him feel even more restored to a proper padawan. He was grateful that none of the colors were vibrantly colored with exotic fish designs, remembering the last time Yoda had to shop for him. He dressed and they ate, then they meditated together. Yoda sent Force energy into his body, the dehydration and sun burn quickly healing, his forehead requiring more attention.
"Now, Padawan, the mission we must discuss."
"Yes Master."
"Overconfident, we were."
"Yes Master."
"Betrayed we were."
"Yes Master."
They both gave small sighs. It was the worst kind of mission, when a scared population cooperated with the power keeping them imprisoned by fear. The Red Cabal had terrorized these people for so long that finding someone to stand against the crime organization was almost impossible. Yoda and Obi-Wan had been asked to protect an informant whose testimony would be the first big break in the legal war against the Cabal. Guard duty was not normally a task for the Jedi, but when the civil authorities confessed their unwillingness to trust their own security, the Jedi were willing to assist. The strangling grip of organized crime made the S'valli bad members of the Republic, the actions of their representatives often unpredictable and too obviously swayed by financial considerations, blackmail, or blatant intimidation.
"Force dampeners, they had."
"Yes Master."
Only the reliable few were supposed to have known that Jedi were brought in to ensure that the informant would be safe until called to testify. Apparently, one of those reliable few was not so reliable. And even though Yoda and Obi-Wan were a superb master/padawan team, both dangerous fighters though with very different styles, the sudden shock of Force dampeners combined with a coordinated attack from all sides on the safe house had led to bitter defeat.
"Dead, he likely is."
"Yes Master."
More small sighs. The assignment was regarded as almost a vacation for Obi-Wan and Yoda, a chance to spend time in an isolated location resting and relaxing. Some vacation it was turning out to be. There was little likelihood that Yiff T'van was still alive. He had undoubtedly been killed in the safe house as soon as Yoda and Obi-Wan were incapacitated, his body taken away to be buried where it would never be discovered. The Cabal would continue its merciless domination. They had failed and there was nothing they could do to remedy the problem. It was virtually impossible to help a people who were too petrified to help themselves.
"Return to the safe house, we should."
"Yes Master. I would like to see if my lightsaber is there." Not having his commlink and utility belt was unpleasant, leaving Obi-Wan feeling oddly naked without their presence, but losing his lightsaber was intolerable. Its weight had hung on his belt every day for over a decade. Except that is, on those days when missions went disastrously wrong, leaving its lack making him feel particularly vulnerable.
"Then report to Trey D'ansa and the Council."
"Yes Master." Obi-Wan was sorry for D'ansa, who seemed to be a good man desperately trying to help his people live in freedom and prosperity. Unless, of course, he was the one who had betrayed them. They may never know. Without T'van, the Council would recall them to Coruscant so they could be available for the next mission, and the S'valli would be left to remain trapped with their problem, helpless to take action against the Cabal.
"Quiet you are, Padawan."
For a second, Obi-Wan's smile flashed before he replied again, "Yes Master." Despite the differences in their species, ages, and experiences, Obi-Wan and Yoda frequently agreed on how their missions should be handled. They had developed an excellent rapport over their decade together, leading to conversations that often consisted of short sentences. The uninformed might interpret the brevity of Obi-Wan's replies as excessive deference, but both knew the padawan would not hesitate to speak his mind if he disagreed with the master.
Yoda wrinkled his nose. "Nap first, Padawan. Getting old am I." With that preamble, Yoda crawled into one of the beds, pulling the cover over his head, his soft snoring sounding instantly in the quiet room.
The suddenness of his action worried Obi-Wan. Yoda rarely betrayed physical weakness so blatantly. Obi-Wan cursed himself for his carelessness. While Yoda had focused on their plan of action, the elder had avoided describing his own escape or wounds incurred. Still, Obi-Wan knew even the amount of concentration required to find him on a planet full of other people would have been draining. And then Obi-Wan had allowed his Master to send more energy to him. No wonder the other Jedi was exhausted.
With the influx of food and healing energy, Obi-Wan was not tired. In fact, he was almost too tense to sleep, having swung from surprise and combat-readiness when the attack happened, to waking to the intense disappointment of a failed mission and the fear of drowning, to the exhilaration of being saved by the handsome merman and the relief of being rescued by his Master. Deciding that a walk would relax him, he slipped silently out of the hotel room to explore the town.
The town was pleasantly quaint, an old fishing village still clinging to its history and traditions despite the evidence of new tourist attractions invading it. The number of tourists was light at this time of year, the families and groups of visitors carrying holo-cameras as they went sightseeing fewer than the locals busily running errands and taking care of normal chores.
Obi-Wan strolled slowly, admiring the merir long hair flowing out to the side as if the Cean were floating in the ocean.
"Beautiful, aren't they."
The speaker was apparently the shop owner, leaning over the counter and striking up a conversation with her only customer. "Yes, very," Obi-Wan replied. "I haven't heard much of the Cean."
"They're shy creatures." Like Obi-Wan, the S'valli were standard human stock, and the shop owner was an attractive middle-aged woman with green eyes and short brunette hair. She leaned closer, gesturing to Obi-Wan to approach her. "I was rescued by one once."
"Yes?" Obi-Wan made his tone encouraging, recognizing a soul who wished to tell her tale.
"About twenty years ago. I swam too far out and got a cramp. I thought I would drown until I felt arms around me. He was so gorgeous!" She came around the counter, pointing to one of the statues. "His tail was like this, all green and blue. He towed me to shallow water and waited until I stood, then just left without saying a word. I will never forget that beautiful tail sparkling in the air before disappearing."
Obi-Wan could understand the sentiment but was reluctant to share his experience. Somehow, it was too personal to discuss with this stranger. "How old was he?"
"Oh just a young one. A teenager like I was then. Some people say they are magical, like fairies, but I think they're like us, aging and dying."
"Has anyone ever proved they exist?"
She rolled her eyes. "Scientists say they don't, that there's no way they could have hidden from us all these years. But I know. I've seen them."
Another customer entered and the owner turned her attention to welcome the new arrival. Obi-Wan welcomed the distraction, content to examine the statues without conversation, to remember, and wonder. Remember what it felt like to be held in the merman's arms, their lips pressed together, his breath coming from the merman's mouth. Wonder when he would see him again. Obi-Wan wouldn't be like this woman, having only a few brief moments with the merman, still telling a story about an event that happened decades ago. The Force had spoken to Yoda. It might happen tomorrow. Or next week. Or it might not happen during this trip. Maybe Obi-Wan was meant to return in many years and discover then how mermen aged, if his skin would still be as bronzed and his tail as beautiful when his hair was pure silver.
But somehow, some time, Obi-Wan would meet his merman again.
Quist didn't swim directly to his secret place. He never did, preferring a circuitous route. Not that he thought anyone followed him, but it seemed wise to be careful. While the elders accepted Quist's interest in humans, he realized there might be limits to their approval, limits that he didn't wish to fully test.
The research ship had sunk several years ago. Why, Quist didn't understand, having no understanding of mechanical devices. The accident had happened slowly enough that the humans had escaped without his help, leaving the sub drifting to the ocean floor, most of its inner seals intact.
He went through the double walls, the water circulating out and air filling between the two. The chair was waiting for him where he'd left it, resting a foot off the floor. How it held itself up in the air as well as he floated in the ocean baffled Quist, but he had been delighted when he realized how it worked. It allowed him to settle on its surface and float around his private world rather than having to drag himself on the floor.
The things within his sub mostly belonged to the scientists who had used it, their equipment and clothes, the vids and padds, but Quist also had brought items from other wrecks and stored them here. The different sizes and shapes intrigued him, making him wonder about the function of each one. He had figured out some, finding the vids particularly useful, but others kept him confused.
Quist floated the chair down the corridor and into the main cabin. He presumed this place had been used by the scientists for both researching and gathering, as equipment was littered on one side of the room while the other held a table and chairs. He rifled through the vids until he found what he guessed to be the correct one, inserting it into the slot below the large flat screen on the wall.
It was the right one, the one that began with the dark-skinned bald man talking about the Jedi. Images of large buildings as he talked about the Temple. Small children, both humans and species Quist had never seen, laughing and playing. Adults in discussion with other adults, signing padds, and there - Quist hit the button he had learned would make the images move very slowly. Young humans fighting with glowing sticks, the human he rescued today flipping head over heels, flying through the air as gracefully as the Cean glided through the water. Quist mouthed the words of the ending with the dark-skinned bald man, "The universe needs our Jedi."
A Jedi. Today he had saved not just a human, but a Jedi. A Jedi Knight, protector of the universe. He wasn't quite sure what the universe was, but it was very large and very important. The young human looked as if he would be a good protector of it, brave and courageous even in the face of death. And his features were very pleasant for a human, a strong face with a cleft in the chin, and eyes that shared the blue-green color of Quist's world.
Of all the humans he had saved, Quist felt most proud about this one. He knew something about this one, making him unique. Quist often wondered what the other humans did when he brought them to safety, if they were grateful to be rescued, if they told others about him. But he knew what this one would do. The Jedi would return to being a defender of the weak and helpless, saving others from danger like Quist saved humans from drowning.
It would have been interesting to talk to the Jedi, to see if he enjoyed being a rescuer as much as Quist did. To learn what it was like to be respected for his interests, rather than one occasionally at odds with his people. It was a shame he would never see his Jedi again.
Obi-Wan found himself walking down to the wharf, surveying the ocean. Many of the S'valli enjoyed old-fashioned boating for recreation, and dozens of sleek vessels with sails were tied to the docks, creating a picturesque image. Dotted around the pleasure ships were sturdier ships, a little bigger, well maintained but less fancy in shape, covered with equipment for the local fishermen to make their living.
The ocean fascinated Obi-Wan, reminding him of the Force. Huge, majestic, powerful, everywhere and all-encompassing, an instrument for good, a source of sustenance for the body and comfort for the soul, as well as potentially dangerous if misused. The ocean could be cruel to those who took risks with her.
This close to evening, most of the boaters were done with their day, having tied up their ships and retreated to dinner. A cluster of men on the dock caught his eye. He glanced over, realizing it was only three men, two carrying something large. They were dressed simply in black trousers and tunics, the sameness of their clothes almost resembling a uniform. The third was also dressed in plain clothes, faded blue trousers and a dark green jacket, but the jacket looked built to withstand bad weather and his boots were designed for a stable footing on a tossing deck, making Obi-Wan guess he was a fisherman.
One of them turned his face, scanning around to see if they were observed, letting Obi-Wan see the thin red streak tattooed from the bottom center of his left eye to halfway down his cheek. The Red Cabal, and one of the main Lieutenants to have such a distinguishing badge of loyalty. Obi-Wan instinctively ducked out of sight behind a large piling. Not only one of the Red Cabal, but from the brief glance, Obi-Wan identified the man as one of his attackers.
After waiting a few moments, Obi-Wan kicked off his shoes, relieved not to be wearing his normal boots. He slid gracefully into the water, toes pointed to minimize any splashing, arms by his sides, his body straight as a light saber until fully submerged. He swam under the dock, breaking water when he guessed he'd reached where the men were located, breathing quietly and listening.
The sound of the fisherman's boots changed as they landed on a different surface -- stepping onto a boat deck most likely. One of the others followed, his step sounding heavy from his burden, a breathy gasp coming from his lips as he shifted it. Obi-Wan scanned the bottoms of the boats. The water was calm, but one rocked ever so slightly. He swam closer, debating what the Cabal might be doing and his course of action.
If these were the men who had left him to drown, Obi-Wan wondered what they were up to now. They were heading out to the ocean to...what? Dump their burden apparently. But for what purpose? Something that needed to be eliminated without fear of discovery.
It was too late to alert his Master or the local authorities. Frankly, Obi-Wan doubted the local authorities would investigate a Cabal sighting. From his understanding, most of the police officials were too intimidated to respond aggressively. Besides, the Cabal would be gone before he could return with reinforcements. Catching them when they sailed back into port would be too late to be useful; the evidence would be gone.
Even as he realized that this task was up to him, Obi-Wan debated whether he should take any action at all. The Council had been very emphatic when assigning them this mission. "It is not the Jedi's responsibility to eliminate a crime ring, even one of this magnitude," Master Windu had dictated in his stern voice. "We do not have the resources to fix this problem for them. We are helping only in this limited case because we have received a specific request. Protect Yiff T'van until he testifies. Do not be side-tracked by other issues."
Following the Cabal was beyond the scope of their mission and the Council might be furious. Yoda would be reprimanded for allowing his padawan to make such a mistake. Those few instances when the Council scolded Yoda made Obi-Wan distinctly uncomfortable, even though it was normally his Master's decision to go outside their mission boundaries. Obi-Wan wanted to be a good Jedi Knight, the best he could be. Even if he was only obeying his Master's instructions, causing the Council displeasure did not fit with his image of a Knight who always made the correct choice and followed the Light.
On the other hand, Obi-Wan was positive he recognized the one fellow. They weren't just generic Cabal members. These men had attacked a Jedi Master and his Padawan, attempting to kill them. The Council would want them brought to justice for that particular offense, even if they were not interested in probing into their other misdeeds.
Obi-Wan's moment of indecisiveness almost caused him to lose his opportunity to act, as he realized the boat was backing away from the dock more rapidly than he would have guessed was safe. He lunged for the side, grabbing onto a bar that ran its length, wrapping his hands around it and plastering his body to the boat, every muscle straining with the effort. The fisherman's driving was erratic, backing up too quickly, making jerking motions. When the boat cut too close to another one, almost scraping Obi-Wan off, he cursed himself for worrying about the Council. He should have leaped onto the boat, knocked out the members of the Cabal, and discovered the truth regarding their burden. Perhaps Yoda was right about following his instincts even if it meant ignoring mission protocols.
The grav-repulsors on the bottom of the boat were firing, raising the vessel slightly off the surface of the water so it could skim along the top. It saved Obi-Wan from getting further drenched, but the driver was able to increase his speed without the resistance of the water. The padawan gritted his teeth and hung on, the wind rushing at him, trying to tear him off the side and fling him into the cold ocean.
Just when he was sure he'd reached his limits, unbearably chilled by his wet clothes and the wind, and would lose his grip, the boat slowed, settling gently back onto the waves. He heard a sound, possibly of a foot connecting with something. "Time's up, traitor."
The response was a whimper, then mumbled words as if the speaker was trying to speak through a gag.
Coarse laughter answered the mumbling. "Plead all you want, Yiff. It's too late. It was too late the instant you turned against the Cabal. No one betrays us and lives."
Yiff. Yiff was alive. Bound, gagged, and undoubtedly scared out of his mind, but alive. Elation swept through Obi-Wan as he realized he could save Yiff and still complete his mission.
Noiselessly, he dropped off the boat, treading water, flexing his muscles to ease their stiffness. He needed to be able to defeat two men, both of whom would be carrying blasters, and without his lightsaber. The fisherman he considered a potential threat, but more likely an unwilling victim who would duck when battle began. The members of the Cabal were his main worry.
"You're going to drown slowly, Yiff. Very slowly. It's a nasty way to die, choking on water until you can't breathe. Think about it, Yiff. Think about your betrayal."
The voice of the other Cabal member was more sullen than gloating. "I still say we should have brought the Jedi too. Done them both together. It's dangerous to leave a Jedi alone."
"You know the boss wants his body to send back to Coruscant. Let them know how we deal with people meddling in our affairs. But Yiff here - Yiff's going to be fish food. No one will know what happened to you, Yiff. Not your family, not your friends. You'll just disappear. That'll keep others from following your example."
The sullen one was not appeased and apparently not ready to relinquish his argument. "It's not safe, I tell you. It's not safe to leave a Jedi alone."
Deciding that he would never receive a better entrance line, Obi-Wan gathered the Force to him, using its power to propel his body straight out of the water to land on the deck. With his bare feet and sopping wet clothes, his figure may not look impressive, but Obi-Wan was counting on shock value to distract the Cabal. "You should listen to your friend," he said coolly. "Jedi are notoriously hard to kill."
Obi-Wan had no prepared plan of action. He tried to keep his most intimidating expression fastened on the two Cabal at the same time scanning the ship for possible weapons, anything he could use to balance the loss of his lightsaber. A few small stacks of equipment dotted the deck. Unfortunately, they all seemed to be carefully placed and covered with tarps, braced for bad weather. A nice fishing pike or large hook was not evident to his eyes.
Taking command, Obi-Wan threw out his arm, tossing a large wallop of the Force at the Cabal. They went down, skidding across the deck, one of them yelping as he plowed into a pile of rope. The Cabal lieutenant rolled with the Force wave, coming back up on one knee, firing his blaster at Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan wasn't there, already cartwheeling to the side, having anticipated retaliation as the Cabal were professional killers and dangerously well-trained. His gymnastic move allowed him to put the cabin between them.
The fisherman was crouching by the railing as if it would protect him, and was almost caught in the lieutenant's fire as he aimed at the Jedi. Obi-Wan didn't wait to see where the fisherman would dive for safety. Normally, he would attempt to protect innocents, but the fisherman's complicity was still in question and disarming the Cabal to save Yiff was the more important concern. He headed to the back of the boat, continuously scanning for useful tools but not finding any, not able to take the time to hunt under the tarps. Knowing that the best attack comes from an unexpected direction, he leaped onto the roof of the cabin.
Slithering on his belly to the front of the boat, he peered over. The Cabal lieutenant was slowly pacing toward the back, blaster poised to shoot Obi-Wan. The sullen one was standing, his blaster in his hands, his expression a combination of fear and anger. He did not appear happy at having been proved correct in his concern about leaving a Jedi alone.
While eliminating the stronger threat would be best, Obi-Wan would take what he could get. The sullen one was closest to the railing. With another Force shove, Obi-Wan sent him toppling into the ocean. He fell with a yell that was abruptly cut off by the loud splash as his body hit the cold water.
At the noise, the Lieutenant came running to the front, taking a moment to lean over the railing and check on his partner. He whirled around, searching for Obi-Wan, darting away from the railing to stand in the middle of the deck before the padawan could use the same tactic on him.
Crouched on the roof, his attention fixed on the Cabal officer, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of the fisherman out of the corner of his eye. The man's arms were around the large bag containing Yiff, dragging him toward the railing opposite where the Cabal member had gone over.
Obi-Wan yelled, "No!" even as he scooted back, knowing his shout would alert the Cabal to his location. The Lieutenant didn't disappoint, firing instantly at the roof. Obi-Wan's feet were silent as he landed on the deck but the Cabal was noisier, pounding down the left side, still firing. Obi-Wan ran up the right side in time to see Yiff disappear over the railing.
He growled in frustration at the fisherman. "Why? He was going to testify against the Cabal."
"They would have killed my family! He had to die!"
Fear again. The people on this planet were racked with fear. His missions had taught Obi-Wan to truly comprehend the reasoning behind the Jedi Code's insistence on strength over fear. Fear not only made people weak; it made them irrational and inclined to take actions detrimental to their own interests. In his decade as a Jedi padawan, Obi-Wan had seen fear make people intolerant in an appalling and horrifying number of ways.
And stupid. Very very stupid. He gritted his teeth. Arguing with the fisherman would not fix anything at this point and as he felt a blaster shot singe his sleeve, he realized it would get him killed.
Save Yiff. If he could save Yiff and he could still complete his mission and help this planet. With a few rapid breaths to accumulate air into his lungs, he dove over the side. In the distance, he could see Yiff sinking fast. Too fast. The bag must contain weights, probably more tiranium.
He called on the Force, trying to increase his speed, but it was difficult with the water resisting him. If he was going to save Yiff, he really needed help. It would be useful to have Yoda with him, but his Master was on land. A merman. Realizing it was madness to expect him to be near, but unable to ignore any potential assistance, Obi-Wan found himself calling out with his mind, [Merman. Merman. Help me. Help me.]
And then his merman was there, the silver-brown hair waving in the water and the flash of solid bronze shoulders visible as he rose from the depths to meet Obi-Wan. The Jedi pointed frantically downward, finding himself emphasizing his gesture with his mind, [Yiff. That man is drowning. Get him.]
If the cushion of water had allowed it, Obi-Wan would have fallen, so great was his shock when he heard a voice touch his mind, [You have the gift of true speech.]
The realization that the merman was telepathic fascinated Obi-Wan, but not enough to distract him from his mission. [Yes. Please help Yiff.]
The merman flipped in the ocean, the blue-green tail creating a strong current as he sped toward the disappearing figure. He caught the bag and held on. With evident surprise in his mental voice, he said, [He is heavy.]
[Weights.] Obi-Wan replied briefly, catching up - or would it be down? - to the two. Ripping at the bag, he said, [Hold him while I free him.]
The merman's arms were strong, but the strain of stopping Yiff from sinking showed in the pronounced muscles and veins. Obi-Wan had to admire their form even as he shredded the bag, Yiff helping from inside, clawing frantically as his lanky figure emerged from the cloth. Chains were around his body, but they were loosely tied and slipped off with only a little effort. Tape covered Yiff's mouth, his arms and legs moving jerkily, his feet hitting Obi-Wan and the merman as he desperately headed for the surface.
[No! It's not safe. He'll be shot. We can't go straight up.] Obi-Wan directed his words to the merman. He didn't try to reassure Yiff, understanding the instinctive panic caused by the fear of drowning. Yiff could not be calmed until he could breathe.
[Then you must go down.] The merman's speed was incredible, whipping by Obi-Wan as he caught Yiff, ripping off the tape and pressing their mouths together. A tall, awkward man more inclined to watching holo-vids than exercising, Yiff was no match for the merman. Despite his struggles, Yiff was forced back down, his resistance slowly ending as he realized that fresh air was entering his lungs.
Obi-Wan followed, appreciating the undulating beauty of the blue-green tail. [There is someplace we can go?]
[A sunken ship with air. It is my private place.]
Though the merman didn't say anything, Obi-Wan caught the nuance. This place was more than the gardens where Master Yoda had retreated occasionally from the stress of raising a dutiful but high energy teen. The merman was escorting them to a secret location that he had not shared with anyone else. [Thank you.]
[You're welcome. Those are the words, yes?]
Obi-Wan couldn't restrain a mental laugh at the merman's formality contrasted with the bizarre image of Yiff cradled in his arms. [Yes.]
[I wish I had known before that you had the gift of true speech.]
[I also wish you had known. I yearned to talk more to you.]
[Did you? Why?]
[I - I need your breath.] Obi-Wan wasn't sure how to articulate his curiosity. Partially, the interest was scientific. All Jedi craved knowledge and were excited by new discoveries. It was simply an intrinsic feature of their collective personality. Only those initiates who were exciting by traveling the galaxy and constantly encountering unique cultures were selected as padawans. True, it was acceptable for older Jedi to tire of the ceaseless travel and settle into teaching, studying, or performing administrative functions at the Temple, but those who needed routine and order as children were gently counseled into other careers.
But in addition, Obi-Wan found himself carnally attracted to the merman, fascinated by his appearance and handsomeness, yearning to know more about him on a purely personal level. It seemed inconceivable that they had met less than a few hours ago; they had been parted too long already.
They didn't speak as the merman slowed, releasing Yiff's mouth and clasping his hand over it, giving his lips to Obi-Wan. The Jedi trapped the merman's head with one hand, holding him steady while he breathed deeply. [Thank you. I can go farther now.]
As he swam downwards, the merman resumed breathing for Yiff, seeming to recognize that the other man was not comfortable in the water. [I am called Quist.]
[I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is Yiff T'van.]
[He cannot hear me. None of the land dwellers have been able to hear the Cean. Until you.]
Obi-Wan felt strangely flattered, the most distinguished representative of the 'land dwellers.' [I am a Jedi. We are sensitive to the Force and train our minds to use its mental abilities more than most.]
[Tell me of being a Jedi. You are a rescuer, yes?]
They continued downward, angling slightly to the left, and Obi-Wan realized that they were heading to a place where the ocean was not as deep. [In many ways, yes. We prefer to be diplomats but are warriors when necessary.]
[Diplomats?] The syllables came slowly, as if the word was new to Quist.
[When people have disputes, we encourage them to talk, to resolve their problems.]
[Like going before the Council of Elders.]
[I would guess so. Only some people do not have a council, or do not share the same council. So we help them to talk.]
Their conversation was temporarily interrupted as they reached their destination, a squat little ship sitting on the ocean floor. A research sub, Obi-Wan guessed from its design, as it was too small to be military and not stylish enough to be a private leisure vessel. Ocean creatures were encroaching on the ship's surface, some of the silver starfish Obi-Wan had seen on the beach mixed with multi-colored anemones and red sea urchins. Small stripped fish darted around the waving tentacles, but overall the flat gray metal looked mostly intact with only a few ripped panels at one end to indicate the possible reason for its sinking.
Quist escorted them into the airlock. As the water slowly pumped out, Quist released Yiff once sufficient air filled the top of the tiny room. They all sank with the disappearing water, Quist folding his tail under him, becoming shorter than the humans since they stayed standing.
The air was slightly musty but breathable, evidence that the majority of the ship's systems still worked. It took several minutes for the water to recede completely, and both Obi-Wan and Yiff took great gulps of air. Quist was almost lying on the floor, his tail curled around Obi-Wan's feet, before the explosion Obi-Wan was anticipating finally occurred.
Obi-Wan could see it in Yiff's face before it happened, the fear of being captured, the fear of drowning altering to irrational anger, a need to blame someone - anyone - for the current predicament, and unfortunately the Jedi was the closest target. High-pitched and loud, Yiff's voice echoed off the airlock walls as he shrieked, "You almost got me killed!"
Yiff's tirade continued as they exited the airlock, moving down a corridor in the small ship. Obi-Wan listened with half his attention, more curious to see how Quist would handle being in a waterless environment than in Yiff's tongue-lashing. He'd already heard Yiff rant before, more times than he wanted to remember. Even Yoda's Jedi serenity had been tested by Yiff's ability to lament everything that had gone wrong in his life. Unfortunately for Obi-Wan, the Master had exercised his authority to divide their labor frequently during their sojourn in the safe house, patrolling the grounds, leaving Obi-Wan to stand guard inside on Yiff. And listen to him.
In his despair over the failure of the mission, Obi-Wan had allowed himself to forget what an unpleasant person Yiff could be. Nobility of spirit was not his motivation for testifying against the Cabal. From the little Yiff revealed about the truth in his verbal explosions of garbage, Obi-Wan gathered that Yiff been a junior member of the Cabal who blundered badly, badly enough to fear that his superiors would be angered into disciplinary retaliation. Turning to the government was purely the most expedient action to save his own life.
Quist had pulled himself into the corridor, swinging his body to sit on a grav-unit. He was almost too big for the unit, completely obscuring it so he looked as if he were floating in the air. WNo one said the Jedi are tough unless the bad guys know to buy Force dampeners. They send me a little green guy and a kid. Tough Jedi, right."
They moved into a large room, a gathering place from its appearance with a table and chairs on one side and lab equipment on the other. Quist swung the grav-unit around to face them, his regal posture making him look like a king holding court.
"You are safe now, Yiff. We'll stay down here for a while until they have gone," Obi-Wan soothed even while trying not to grit his teeth. He could handle Yiff's reference to him as a kid, having learned on previous missions the value of having his abilities underestimated because of his youth, but the insult to his Master grated.
"Gone away! Ha! So right, yeah. You think the Cabal ever just gives up and goes away? I'm not safe. I'm trapped on the bottom of the ocean. The Cabal never gives up. We could be down here a week, they'll still be up there wondering why your body hasn't floated up."
[Does he need to be dry?]
[Dry?] Obi-Wan asked, wondering why a merman would suggest removing water from a body. To Yiff, he replied, "You're worrying unnecessarily. The Cabal have probably left already."
[When I've rescued humans before, someone always dries them off. It is better for you land dwellers, isn't it? To be dry? He seems - agitated. Will dryness make him less so?]
"Left? Left! You Jedi don't know anything about the Cabal. You think you know everything but you don't."
[Yiff is frequently agitated, but yes, dry would be good.] Unwilling to reveal that he could communicate mentally with the merman, Obi-Wan said aloud as if responding to Yiff's comment, "I know that we should get dried off." Turning to Quist, he asked, "Are there any dry clothes on this ship? Towels?"
In his deep voice with a lilting accent, Quist replied, "In the cabins. The humans left their things when the ship sank."
Directing Yiff, "Stay here," Obi-Wan followed Quist's pointing finger, heading past the merman and out the doorway on the other side of the room. Like everything on the sub, the cabins were small and compact, decorated with only a few personal items to indicate the owners' personalities. Obi-Wan ignored the holo-pics and reading padds, concentrating on the closets and dressers, rifling through until he found trousers and shirts that should fit the two of them, and grabbing clean towels from the bathing area.
When he returned to the main cabin, Yiff was kneeling, staring raptly at Quist, and Obi-Wan heard Quist rumble, "Yes, I really can speak, and yes, we really do exist." Yiff stretched out one arm, apparently intending to poke at Quist's tail, but Obi-Wan halted his action with a sharp, "Don't touch him."
Yiff jerked back, even as he started babbling, "But they exist! The Cean. We were saved by a member of the Cean. It's amazing, so right. So totally right."
"Here." Tossing Yiff a towel and clothes, Obi-Wan ordered, "Dry off."
Even as he took the clothes and turned away to strip and rub himself briskly, Yiff craned his head back to stare at the Cean, clearly amazed that a legend was reality. For the first time, Obi-Wan wished rescuing Yiff had been possible without Quist's help. To have lived hidden on this planet so long, the Cean must protect their privacy carefully. Obi-Wan regretted that evidence of their existence was now confirmed. He could only hope that whatever story Yiff told in the future would be disbelieved as fanciful nonsense. Perhaps it would be wisest to simply make Yiff forget this meeting. Deliberate suppression of memories was a rare step for a Jedi to take, but, done for the greater good, it was not unknown.
Since Yiff had turned away to undress, Obi-Wan followed his example. Having been raised at the Temple where physical training was a daily part of life, the Padawan was not overly shy about displaying his body, but he always respected cultural norms. Obi-Wan wondered what Quist thought of their discretion since the merman was sitting in front of them essentially naked.
Naked...just long hair, slicked back, smooth skin and beautiful scales. How did the Cean procreate? Where were his sexual organs?
Toweling his hair, the limp strands plastered to his head springing into unruly curls, Yiff asked, "So is there anything to eat in this place? Got any tasty seaweed? I'm so hungry I could eat a serrat."
"You would eat a serrat?"
Obi-Wan was carefully straightening his borrowed clothing, tucking the utilitarian gray tunic into the black pants, but hastily interceded, "I believe that Yiff was referring to its size. The S'valli don't eat the serrats." Capture and kill them for other purposes, but eat them, no. Quist seemed calm, but Obi-Wan didn't want Yiff to offend him inadvertently. Perhaps the Cean were vegetarians? Or would they eat raw fish?
"Yeah, right. No, no, I wouldn't eat a serrat. I'm just hungry. It's just a figure of speech. You know figure of speech?" Less conscious of his dignity, Yiff's hadn't fussed with his clothes, the brown pants hanging loosely on his hips, the excessively yellow shirt still rumpled at the bottom, bunched around his waist.
"It is an expression?"
"Yeah, an expression. Just a way of saying something. You gotta ignore me, I say lots of things. Gets me in trouble sometimes. So is there anything to eat?"
"There are packets. I believe they are food. The other food spoiled and I removed it."
"Great, right. Packets, I can eat packets. I can eat anything."
While Yiff began rummaging through the cabinets Quist indicated, Obi-Wan addressed the merman. "We do appreciate your rescue." [Both of them.]
The merman smiled. "You are welcome." [For both of them.]
"We would appreciate if we could stay here for a while, then if you would escort us to the shore."
"I would be pleased to do so." [Though I wish you and I were the only two here.]
Was the Cean flirting with him? The body language didn't quite fit, the Cean still sitting upright on the grav-unit. He wasn't noticeably leaning closer to Obi-Wan or making other obvious physical gestures beyond the gentle smile. Even though Obi-Wan tried to quell the hope that sprang to life inside him, strictly informing himself that the Cean probably only meant he found Obi-Wan a more interesting land dweller than Yiff, he stepped nearer, his legs practically touching Quist's tail. His words were unabashedly bold. [I wish so too. I wish to know more about you. All about you.]
One edge of the tail reached out, curling lightly and stroking Obi-Wan's leg. [And I wish to know all about you.]
"Hey, Obi, Obi, come here."
This time Obi-Wan couldn't stop the involuntary clenching of his teeth, but he obeyed Yiff's request, walking over to the counter where Yiff had found packets of food and a functional heater. "What is it, Yiff?"
Yiff lowered his voice, his head jerking toward the merman as if checking how far away he was. "I was thinking."
"Yes?" A dangerous proposition for Yiff, as far as Obi-Wan could tell. It wouldn't surprise Obi-Wan if thinking was what had landed Yiff on the Cabal's hit list.
"The Cabal won't go away. Never, right. Never. They know you went after me. They can't take the risk you might have saved me. Zelt, he fears Jedi, he'll keep harping until Surd finally listens to him. They'll wait as long as they have to. No offense, but you and the little green guy can't protect me. Not forever."
"My Master and I have ensured your safety so far and we will continue to do so," Obi-Wan said tightly.
"Well, you've tried, but face it, you're not doing such a great job. But that's okay, you can make up for it. And you can protect me permanently."
He didn't want to hear this; every instinct told him that he would not like Yiff's idea. "We'll go back to the shore, contact Trey, and have him establish a new safe house. Everything will be fine."
"No, it's too late for that, too late, right? Here's what we do. We tell the big guy that everything's a misunderstanding, right, and to take us back to the boat. We make a deal with the Cabal, give them something they can't resist, they'll forgive me and take me back, you and the little green guy can go home, everything will be fine then. Trey won't be happy but hey, he's a politician, he knows disappointment, right?"
The words came out slowly, even as appalled dread filled his stomach. "Give them something they can't resist?"
"We'll give them the big guy, right? Can you just imagine how useful he'd be for smuggling?"
Quist felt his tail flick with impatience, wondering what the Jedi would say to the human's revolting suggestion. 'Give them the big guy.' As if Quist was a thing, not a being, an object to be traded.
He knew what many of the Elders would say, what Xan would say, if they were here. That being captured and bound into slavery was no more than Quist should expect as gratitude for his efforts in rescuing humans. That the land dwellers could not be trusted because they did not live in harmony with their environment or each other. That while some might be decent, overall their cruelty and avarice outweighed any compassion or consideration demonstrated by individual members.
Quist had always liked humans, even though he mostly interacted with them in their worst moments, flailing in the water, afraid for their lives. He had seen the appreciation and wonder in their eyes as they viewed their savior. Heard their sobbing thanks, felt the strength of their arms as they held him tight. The Jedi in particular had impressed Quist with his steady dignity in the face of his own death, and later his courage as he swam after the other human.
Alas, the Jedi also pretended that the land dwellers did not harm the serrat, as if he thought Quist might not notice the hunting and killing of beings that large. If the Jedi was strictly honest and the land dwellers did not eat the serrat, then Quist wasn't sure he wanted to know how their bodies were used.
Would the Jedi's answer to Yiff solidify Quist's faith in humans or destroy it? Would the Jedi regard Quist as only - what was the human term, a bargaining chip? Would the Jedi allow harm to come to someone who had helped him?
The Jedi's back was stiff and straight, his voice was tight and controlled when he spoke, as if the words were not what he wanted to say. "I think you should take a nap now, Yiff."
"But what about - "
The Jedi's voice softened, becoming beguilingly smooth. "A nap, Yiff, a nap. You're very tired." His hand waved softly with his words.
"Yeah, very tired."
"You want to go lie down in the cabin."
"I think I'll go lie down in the cabin."
"And nap."
"And nap."
"You won't even remember this conversation."
"What conversation?" Yiff asked as he ambled past Quist and left the room, simply dropping the packet he'd been holding on the floor.
When Obi-Wan turned to face Quist, his expression was a polite mask but Quist could see the hope in Obi-Wan's eyes, the preference that Quist had not heard or understood what had just happened. But while Quist may be ignorant of human things, he would not let the Jedi treat him as stupid. "I thought the bad men were the ones in the boat."
Obi-Wan sighed. His voice was less tight, but his words still seemed carefully chosen. "I do not know your culture's morality, but for humans, there are many degrees of good and evil. Yiff is not a good man, but he is willing to testify against those who are worse, so that they will be caught and punished, and cannot hurt innocents any longer. If he were truly a good man, he would not have the information the legal authorities need. Do you understand?"
The response was satisfying, simply stated but fully truth without any hidden evasions. "He will speak truth before your Council of Elders."
"Yes. And he knows the truth because he was not good."
"I understand. My people believe in living in harmony with our environment and our people, but we do not always succeed. The Cean are not always good." Though they generally respected each other more than Yiff respected him. Quist could not imagine a Cean so deliberately treating another as property.
The Jedi's smile was beautiful, transforming his face from merely handsome to devastatingly attractive. He would look exquisite with a tail, Quist decided, picturing him with coloring similar to Quist's own, but the green more pronounced to highlight the sparkle of green in his eyes. Quist's tail twitched involuntarily with the first hint of arousal.
"Yes, you do understand." The Jedi stepped closer. "I am sorry for Yiff. He is scared, and scared people often say stupid things."
"You would not let him capture me and give me away."
"Never," Obi-Wan replied fervently, one hand reaching out to stroke delicately on Quist's arm. "Saving Yiff is my mission, but no Jedi could participate in such a horrible act."
Quist slid the end of his tail between the Jedi's legs, the fins spreading out and flattening against his calves. "I trust you."
"I will not let you down."
"And will you give me a boon for saving you?" A little girl had said that to him once, a pretty child with damp blonde curls clinging to her head and blue eyes bigger than the ocean. She had been too young to swim far, but inquisitive enough to paddle into a dangerous rocky area and too scared to get herself out. Rescuing her brought Quist closer to the shore than he liked, but he couldn't ignore her cry for help. 'You may have a boon, Sir Merman, for you have saved me.' The words had confused Quist at the time, and her parents' frantic calls had forced him to flee, but he thought now was a good time to explore the concept of a boon.
"A boon?"
"Is that not typical for humans, to give a boon to a rescuer?"
Obi-Wan's hand came to rest on top of Quist's, not quite caressing, merely heightening Quist's awareness of his physical presence. "And what boon would you like?"
"I desire knowledge -- to know the names for these limbs and all their parts." Quist's free hand touched Obi-Wan's thigh.
"That knowledge is an easily granted boon."
"It is what I desire. And would be very much appreciated."
The hesitation was imperceptible before Obi-Wan latched his fingers in the waistband of his borrowed trousers, stepping back to free himself from Quist's tail. With one abrupt motion, he pushed the trousers down his hips and legs, letting them puddle on the floor. He took another step back, reaching behind him and jumping up to sit on the edge of the table. The shirt hung loose, ending just below his hipbones, leaving his groin and legs bare.
Many older Jedi did not indulge in romantic or sexual relations, preferring to direct all their energies into communing with the Force, but it had long been acknowledged that such celibate devotion was not realistic to expect at an early age for most species. With much patience from the Master and many blushes from the Padawan, Yoda had lectured Obi-Wan kindly and in explicit detail on human sexual relations before allowing Obi-Wan freedom to go forth and explore with his peers. Obi-Wan had done so with great relish, always keeping in mind that while enjoyable, love and sex were distractions from the main role in his life, that of a Jedi Knight in training.
If Yiff hadn't been sleeping, if the Cabal hadn't been far away, Obi-Wan would never have relaxed his guard enough to partially undress before Quist. But Yiff and the Cabal were momentarily out of the picture, and Obi-Wan admitted to himself that he was frankly fascinated by the merman. Sexually, he wasn't sure what the two could even do together.
But he wanted to find out.
Quist waved his tail, causing the grav-unit to float closer to Obi-Wan's position. Boldly, Obi-Wan placed one foot on Quist's lap. Pointing, he said, "This is my foot, and this is my leg."
"Foot, leg."
Being this close to Quist allowed Obi-Wan to concentrate on studying his tail even as he taught Quist the human words. The tail was truly gorgeous; the overlapping scales larger along the waist, becoming smaller as they reached the fins. The color was predominantly blue, but a brilliant blue that rivaled the intensity of Corellian sapphires, covered with a scattering of vibrant Lazian emeralds. "These are my toes, the ball of my foot, the arch, the heel, the ankle."
Quist stroked Obi-Wan's foot as he repeated the words, "Toes, ball, arch, heel, ankle."
Though Quist's touch was light, his hand was big and obviously powerful. Obi-Wan shivered as he imagined sitting on Quist's lap, those big hands squeezing his buttocks tightly as Obi-Wan covered Quist's mouth with his own. "Calf, shin, knee, thigh."
"Calf, shin, knee, thigh." Quist's hand continued to follow Obi-Wan's along the length of his leg. Obi-Wan wiggled his toes against Quist's tails, feeling the smoothness of the scales against the bottom of his foot, testing their resiliency with his heel. Quist traced the flexing leg muscles. Obi-Wan slid his hand further up his body, working his instruction downward. He wanted to end with the best last. "Hips, pubic hair, testicles, penis."
"Hips, hair, testicles, penis." Quist ended with his hand curled around Obi-Wan's penis, not moving but holding the slowly growing hardness in his hand.
Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around Quist's encouraging the merman to place his thumb on the tip of Obi-Wan's penis. "Foreskin."
"Foreskin," Quist said huskily before retreating, his tail swinging wildly, the grav-unit rocking as he scooted halfway across the room.
Obi-Wan let Quist's agitation die, his frantic movement cease before he hopped off the table, prowling over to Quist, who was now facing away from him. The merman was clearly disturbed, his fins twitching, but was it because he was resisting a sexual attraction to a member of another species, or did another reason exist? Obi-Wan wanted to know. He touched Quist's shoulders, caressing the broad back, feeling the smoothness of the now-dry skin. "So do I get a boon in return? Will you tell me about your tail?"
"No." The tone was harsher than Quist intended. He didn't blame Obi-Wan for this situation; it was purely of his own foolish making. How could he have suggested that the Jedi show his body without thinking of how Xan would react? Indeed, without thinking of Xan at all? What was this strange attraction to the human that made Quist forget his loyalty to his partner, the respect due to the one he supposedly loved?
"No?" Obi-Wan was undeterred, still caressing Quist's shoulders. The Jedi's voice was half-purr, half-pout, "It would only be fair. Didn't you wish harmony to Master Yoda and me? Can there be harmony without equality and sharing?"
Being sensually touched in the dry air was both arousing and disturbing. The Cean only made love in the depths, far away from possible human intrusion. Quist had never known eroticism without a complete covering of water, and realized unhappily that he could like it. More violently, he repeated, "No!" and rocked farther away.
Calm, but with a tinge of hurt, Obi-Wan asked, "What is wrong? Have I misunderstood?"
Regretfully, Quist answered, "No, you haven't misunderstood." A circular spin of his tail brought the grav-unit around so Quist could face Obi-Wan. He owed him the courtesy of meeting his eyes when he confessed. "I am to be bound to another."
"But you are not bound yet?"
"Xan and I are committed to each other but we have not taken formal vows before the Council and the community."
"Xan is very lucky." Obi-Wan turned away, picking up the trousers and pulling them back on, tucking in the tunic. "I am sorry if I acted inappropriately."
"I am the lucky one. Xan is beautiful, with a black and silver tail." Quist felt disloyal as the thought crossed his mind, but he couldn't stop himself from wondering if Xan's soul was truly as beautiful as this human's. Would Xan be so harmonious in facing death? Somehow Quist doubted it, imagining Xan loudly railing at his fate if trapped in the relentlessly burning sun.
"I wish you both a happy life together."
"Thank you." Quist regretted that the Jedi's eyes were opaque, hiding his thoughts as he faced Quist again. He had liked their glitter, the way Obi-Wan's eyes came alive as Quist touched him, erotic fantasies reflected in their depths, revealing that the Jedi was interested in him. Very interested. An interest that Quist found stimulating.
But it was better this way, the polite separation between them, the Jedi's formality and bland words. They were of two worlds and could never be together.
Not with different physiologies and cultures between them. And Xan.
As a child, Obi-Wan had not truly appreciated the crèche master's instructions in social niceties. He saw his future as a Jedi Knight doing brave deeds, fighting unrepentant villains or having weighty discussions with world leaders and rebel factions. Master Xape's droll voice as he lectured on how to make small talk, how to set someone at ease, find common interests, share silly tales of how the day had gone, seemed so - mundane.
Within three missions as a young padawan, Obi-Wan was ready to drop down and kiss Master Xape's hairy feet. World leaders were in a much more receptive mood to discuss politics after enjoying a cup of the local hot beverage, chatting about the new planting in the garden or the birth of their grandchild. Rebels related to someone who appreciated the small joys of life, those they yearned to experience again once their dispute was settled. And fighting - fighting was highly overrated. Rarely a heroic battle against an equal, fighting was generally a confused melee of loud shouts, anguished screams, blood of diverse colors dripping from wounds, and the unsettling sensation of many beings passing into the Force.
While contemplating a possible opening verbal sally - what would a merman enjoy talking about? - Obi-Wan picked up the packet Yiff had dropped and tossed it into the heater. The meal in the hotel had filled him, but refueling his body again seemed wise after suffering from the wind chill while clinging to the boat and draining his strength during the long swim.
"The fish in your ocean are beautiful." It was always safe to make a flattering comment on the environment, allowing the other person to demonstrate pride in his world.
"Yes, many of the fish are very beautiful. We are lucky to share our lives with so many creatures. But - my ocean? Do the land dwellers not consider the ocean as yours also?"
The heater pinged and Obi-Wan popped out the packet, turning a chair to face the merman and sitting down. It brought his body lower than the merman's, making Obi-Wan lean back slightly to look up, but sitting on the table again seemed an unwise reminder of what had just happened. "Probably, but I am not from this planet."
Quist's eyes focused on Obi-Wan with keen interest, tinted with wonder. "Then you are an alien. There truly are aliens. And other planets. And other oceans."
Obi-Wan dug into the food, remembering another maxim from Master Xape that he hadn't quite appreciated until going on missions - eat whenever you can and get accustomed to eating anything. A heated packet of stale mixed meat product and limp vegetables was ambrosia compared to boiled tree slugs on Vestile 4, still Obi-Wan's own personal low point in culinary satisfaction. "Yes. And there are even planets like Coruscant which do not have oceans."
"You look like the land dwellers."
Obi-Wan shrugged. This conversation wasn't going exactly as planned, Quist's narrow world view being opened more than Obi-Wan intended, but there seemed to be no harm in confirming his knowledge. "Basic human stock. Many planets are populated primarily by people who share my physiology. Just as there are many sentient beings covered with hair, fur, or...scales."
"And you all live in harmony?" Quist asked.
"In the Republic, we all live under a prescribed set of rules."
"But you don't all live in harmony?"
Obi-Wan thought of all the poor and miserable, the criminals, the rich and discontent in the universe. "We strive for harmony, but we do not always fully achieve it." He didn't want to lie to Quist, but he didn't want to expose Quist to the more unsavory aspects of civilization if the Cean were truly peaceful.
Quist looked contemplative, as if mulling over Obi-Wan's words, before changing the topic. With a trace of pride, he said, "I am a rescuer."
"A rescuer?"
"Of the humans. There is usually at least one of us who spends more time close to the shore, to save humans from drowning."
Racking his memory, trying to think of any useful stories Yiff had babbled about the Cean during his droning monologues, Obi-Wan said, "I thought there were legends that many Cean would come in great schools when a ship goes down."
"A ship, yes. We all help when there are many sailors at risk. Otherwise, the land dwellers will come and search for them for many days, endangering the Cean. But I am the only one now who will save the swimmers, when they get -" Quist looked confused, searching for the right word, "a cramp. What is a cramp?"
"When a muscle gets overtired and strained, it can seize up and hurt. Then a land dweller cannot swim."
"They clutch their leg." Quist bent over, clasping the back of his tail, demonstrating how the swimmers would act.
"Yes, we usually get a cramp in our calf."
"This does not happen to the Cean."
"You swim all the time. We do not, so if we swim too much, it can be bad for us." Quist looked extremely confused, as if the concept of swimming too much was simply too bizarre to grasp. Obi-Wan decided to try to change the subject back to Quist's occupation, eager to avoid more physiology discussions. "You are the only one who saves swimmers? So you are - the chosen one?"
"The chosen one?"
"It is a legend among the Jedi, that a chosen one will come to bring balance to the light and dark. You bring balance to the land dwellers and the Cean." Many Jedi would dispute the validity of Obi-Wan's rough comparison, but finding elements of similarities between the legends and beliefs of different cultures was frequently an effective way of communicating.
Quist's smile was sad. "But only to keep them apart. The Cean do not trust the land dwellers."
Considering Yiff's vile suggestion, Obi-Wan had a difficult time not wincing. The Cean certainly had reason not to trust land dwellers. Adding human/Cean relations to his list of touchy subjects to avoid, Obi-Wan asked, "What do the other Cean do?"
"Do?"
"With your lives. Do you have occupations, jobs?"
"I do nots."
"We would call your Elders judges or politicians. It would be their occupation to listen to disputes and help people."
Quist's face relaxed as he began to comprehend. "And my occupation would be rescuer."
"Yes." Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly. Quist might be ignorant of human concepts, but he was not unintelligent. Gesturing with his hand, he added, "This ship, many people gathered together to make this ship. It is their occupation to be ship builders. This food, someone grew it and cooked it and put it in this packet, for the people on this ship to eat. We call the people who grow food farmers. Do you have Cean who make things or prepare food?"
"The Cean do not make things like this. We only make jewelry. And food - food is everywhere. We do not grow it or put it in packets."
This conversation was becoming slow-going, their ways of life so different, but Obi-Wan persevered, undeterred. If nothing else, the big Cean was fascinating to study, floating in the air like a king, his tail lightly flicking, the sleek dark hair revealing itself to be more brown and silver as it dried.
"You do not wear any jewelry. What is it made of?"
Jewelry was apparently another touchy subject, as the Cean's tail flicked stronger, the grav unit rocking so he dipped up and down. "We should return you to the surface soon. I cannot stay in this environment for long."
Obi-Wan hesitated a moment, wanting to argue, but conceded gracefully with a nod. If he had overstepped some boundary, continuing the conversation would be impolite. And rudeness had been a cardinal sin in Master Xape's world. "Are there any breathing devices on this ship? Small tools that fit in a land dweller's mouth and allow us to breathe underwater?"
Quist shook his head. "The land dwellers used them all when they left the ship."
Rising, Obi-Wan crossed to place the packet back on the counter. This ship should have an automatic disposal unit some place, but he wasn't sure if it would still work. The fact that the air and lights functioned was almost miraculous. Turning back to Quist, he asked, "Will you help us return to the surface? Will you breathe for us?"
An aggravated expression crossed Quist's face, and Obi-Wan knew that despite his apparent gentleness and concern for others, the merman was capable of being angered, and would be formidable if crossed. "I do not wish to help him. He is the kind of land dweller that the Cean fear. But I will do it for you."
"Please believe me that good will come from this. Yiff's words will help the humans." Speaking of the many debts that Obi-Wan owed Quist was foolish. Overt gratitude would cloud the air with emotion, emotion that might lead to Obi-Wan attempting to seduce Quist again. Emphasizing the greater good for the world was neutral, and safer.
"I will believe you."
Having this big, powerful being so firmly announce his faith in Obi-Wan sent a shiver through his body. Avoiding the temptation to seduce Quist would be easier if Quist wasn't so incredibly appealing, his sincere honesty and beautiful body making him the most attractive being Obi-Wan could ever remember meeting. "Then I will wake Yiff and we will leave."
Once Quist nodded agreement, Obi-Wan carefully skirted around him to find where Yiff was napping. He yearned to remain in this enclosed little world with Quist, talking to him for hours and learning more about him and his society. But Trey would be frantic when he discovered his informant and the Jedi missing, and Yoda would wonder when he woke to find Obi-Wan gone. His responsibility was to his mission.
The rescuers would return Yiff to safety.
Quist disappeared outside the ship while Obi-Wan woke Yiff. His nap and several of the packets had made the former Cabal member more agreeable, if still too relentlessly talkative for Obi-Wan's taste. The announcement that there were no breathers made Yiff whine, but Quist's reappearance, freshly damp and intimidatingly large, brought his protestations down to muttered complaints.
The trip back up was slower, Obi-Wan having warned Quist that humans would be damaged by surfacing quickly. Less scared now, Yiff managed to swim by himself, a fact that Obi-Wan appreciated. He didn't want to see that lanky body in Quist's arms when he wanted to be there himself. They paused regularly to receive fresh air from Quist's lungs, Obi-Wan's Jedi training allowing him to last far longer than Yiff.
Obi-Wan took advantage of Quist's telepathy to talk to him during the journey, asking about the various fish, deciding to stick to a safe topic while unable to observe Quist's expressions and body language. Quist showed himself to be keenly aware of his environment and knowledgeable about the behavior of the species they encountered.
Traveling in a diagonal line, they were only halfway to shore when Obi-Wan halted, feeling a familiar Force signature.
[What is wrong?]
[We should go up now.]
[We are still distant from the shore. I thought you did not want to surface until close to the land.]
[My master is above.]
Yiff didn't understand Obi-Wan's change of direction and floundered indignantly, but Obi-Wan tugged on his arm and he reluctantly followed.
Feeling no presentiment of danger, Obi-Wan surfaced without hesitation, wincing in mortification at the sight before him. A speeder boat, fast and sleek, solid black with red flames along the side, Yoda lounging in a chair, his robe discarded, a fishing pole held negligently in one clawed hand. "Oh Master, you didn't."
"Fast it was - "
"Yes, and fast you needed." Obi-Wan sighed, swimming the short distance to reach the side of the boat, realizing that the fishing boat was drifting behind the speeder. "The Cabal?"
"Tied up, they are." Yoda rose, reeling in the fishing line before reaching for his robe.
"Ugh, that's one ugly sight," Yiff said, releasing the side of the boat and dropping back into the water. "You shoulda warned me, right."
His voice tight, Obi-Wan responded, "Master Yoda just captured your former friends - the ones who would have killed you."
"That doesn't mean he ought to do naked sunbathing. Ugh. Little green guys shouldn't be flashing themselves, right."
"Covered I am," Yoda said, unperturbed, belting his robe. A knowing look in his eyes and a sideways tilt of his ears reminded Obi-Wan that the padawan had expressed his own opinion less than politely the first time he had seen his master's naked form.
Of course, Obi-Wan had been a mere child, and Yoda in his robes with his big eyes, expressive ears, and powerful Force signature, was both adorably cute and majestically formidable to the young initiate so thrilled and grateful to have been chosen as a padawan to the Order's most famous master. Wandering around their quarters unclothed, his wrinkled green skin and short body was less appealing, causing Obi-Wan to react with a scrunched face and a succinct, "Eww." Obi-Wan eventually had mastered the art of diplomatic phrasing, but he doubted that Yiff would ever learn to express his opinions in any way other than vulgarly honest. Swimming around the speeder, Obi-Wan said, "I'll drive the Cabal boat. You can take Yiff."
"Just keep your robe on," Yiff muttered, pulling himself into the speeder, flopping onto the bottom. "Don't need to see no green wrinkles, right."
As he reached the other boat, strong hands caught Obi-Wan's shoulders, and he found himself clasped to a big body and tugged under the water, his mouth as securely caught as his body. Obi-Wan responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Quist's chest, his legs clinging to Quist's tail, the soles of his feet flattened against the scales.
Quist's kiss was as hot as the water was cold, exploring Obi-Wan's mouth thoroughly and with delicious skill. The merman might seem naïve, but his experience with passion was undeniably extensive. Obi-Wan shuddered, longing for more, arching his body against Quist's, feeling his erection begin to rise, wishing desperately that wet clothing didn't prevent his hardness from rubbing directly on Quist's tail. He wanted to know what it would be like, the sensation of smooth blue-green scales on his most vulnerable skin.
Then passion caused him to lose his coordination, the necessary rhythm for taking breath from Quist's mouth, blowing air out his nose, and kissing underwater disrupted. Choking on a mouthful of water, he shot to the surface, Quist's head appearing next to his own as he caught his breath.
[I wish you did not have to leave.]
[I wish I could stay. But I have a mission.]
[I know. You are Jedi. And we are from two different worlds.] Quist's last kiss was a light brush on Obi-Wan's lips. He dove under the water, his lower body flipping momentarily in the air. Obi-Wan couldn't resist reaching his hand out to stroke the tail as it vanished.
His eyes met Yoda's, his master's strangely opaque. "Return to land, we must."
"Yes, Master." With a brief Force surge, Obi-Wan sprang out of the water, landing on the fishing boat. The Cabal lieutenant was on his knees by the side of the boat, rope securing his arms and legs, glaring at Obi-Wan. The other Cabal member and the fisherman were similarly bound, lying on the deck. Seeing no reason to talk to them, Obi-Wan headed to the back of the boat and raised the anchor. With his experience driving and flying different transportation vehicles, the padawan only needed a brief glance at the cockpit to locate and understand the basic operation mechanisms. He fired up the engine, ignited the grav system, and sailed after his master and Yiff.
He yearned to stay, to explore Quist's world and learn more about the Cean, to taste the full measure of passion with the merman. He knew he would always wonder about Quist, that the quiet moments of the night would be haunted by unfulfilled desire.
But he was a Jedi padawan on a mission.
He didn't look back.
~ end Two Worlds: The Rescue ~
~ feedback to Elayna at Elayna88@aol.com, always appreciated and answered ~