Master Apprentice Archive The Warlord and the Jedi Quick search:

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Category: drama

Rating: NC17

Summary: A parallel universe story: Healer-Knight Kenobi is captured by a powerful and arrogant warlord named Qui-Gon Jinn.

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked around the crowded, noisy room and wondered why he was there. He'd never been happy in crowds, was no good at public speaking and hated noise. As much as he tried to hide in the corner with a glass of fruit juice in his hand, people kept seeking him out. They kept wanting to touch him, shake his hand, pat his arm, pushing their way into his private space. He was uncomfortable and unhappy but little of that showed on his face. Courtesy was as natural to him as breathing. But it had been a long time since he'd needed to practise it as a skill.

He saw the city's Manager making her way through the crowd towards him and sighed. She was typical of Heberan City and its planet; big, sturdy, robustly energetic. Almost everyone on Heberan towered over him. They seemed to think he was fragile and were constantly asking after his health. It was kindly meant but a bit tiring.

She didn't disappoint him. "Obi-Wan ... you're looking a bit peaked. Are you alright?"

He smiled at her, unable to be annoyed in the force of her natural kindness. "Yes, Manager. Perhaps a little tired. Your double standard gravity is something of a trial. Have you had any success with your inquiries?"

She waved her hand around the noisy room. "I've invited everyone I thought might be helpful or useful, and a few besides. Every shipping company owner is represented and there are even a few of the shadier characters of the region here." The crowd around them parted for a moment and the Manager pointed at one tall figure across the room. "Like him, for instance. If I didn't it would start an interplanetary war I'd have that one arrested. If I did, though, twelve capital ships would arrive on my doorstep suggesting I reconsider myself."

As Obi-Wan turned to look the man turned also and their eyes met. He was big, of course, built for power as the people of these systems, with their gravity-well planets, always were. His hair shone under the lights, long and tied back in a tail that lay silver-brown against the stark colour of his outfit. Obi-Wan knew those eyes were blue, somehow. In spite of himself, he was impressed. "Who is he?"

"That's Lord Qui-Gon Jinn. Warlord of the Scattered Dominions. Pirate, plunderer, general all-around Trouble with a big T. Ooops ... .he's coming over. Careful of this one, Obi-Wan. He doesn't play unless he knows he can win."

Obi-Wan watched the man stalk across the room, grabbing the space around him like a hurricane sucking in air. The crowd parted before him, wave-like, and it was all Obi-Wan could do not to step back to make space for him. But he held his ground and looked up, blinking, into the bearded, predatory features that grabbed his mind and heart in unexpected attraction.

"Introduce me." The voice was deep, almost guttural, coming from deep within the broad chest.

The Manager smiled. "Of course. Warlord Qui-Gon Jinn, may I introduce Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight and Healer."

He'd accepted the invitation because he had nothing better to do at the time and out of a mild curiosity. He'd never seen a Jedi, and since his ship was just completing its repairs at Hebaran Docks, he'd had the time. It had been a bore, as he'd expected ... until he'd seen Obi-Wan.

In the swirl of bright, loud bodies the Jedi stood out like a banked, quiet flame. Standing in a corner, a slight figure in plain Jedi robes holding something unalcoholic, he'd attracted Qui-Gon's attention at once. And when the crowd had parted and he'd looked directly at Qui-Gon, it had been like an electric shock. Qui-Gon had been pulled across the room to look down into those eyes, held in place as if he'd found part of himself missing that he hadn't even known was gone.

Can that hair be natural? It didn't seem likely that a Jedi would bother with hair stylists, so the strange colouring had to be his own. At the crown it was golden, shading further down to red-gold that curled around his face. Tendrils of it hung over his forehead, partly obscuring a pair of eyes that seemed to change from green to blue to something that wasn't quite either. A dusting of red-gold hair framed a beautiful mouth and set off the clean classic features. He was almost too perfect to be real.

Qui-Gon Jinn was not a man given to impulse, it wasn't a survival trait.. But at that moment he was overcome with an avariciousness the like of which he'd never known. That Obi-Wan was Jedi, a freeman, a man of power, meant nothing. It was as if he'd been suddenly addicted and threatened with having the drug taken away. Nothing would do but to have him.

None of this sudden insanity showed on his face as he dipped his head in a brief salute and smiled into the watching eyes. "Jedi. I understand you're on a search."

"For a missing ship. The Aderaani Star was carrying a shipment of a drug called Ephastimine. A planet in the Inadia system has a world-wide plague currently killing thousands and the Ephastimine is the only known cure. The ship disappeared near here and I'm trying to find it."

"Why can't you just made more of the drug," Qui-Gon asked, sipping on his drink. He wasn't all that interested, but the Jedi's voice was a pleasure to hear, low and musical, filled with the warmth of concern.

"Ephastimine is a natural by-product of a plant available only on one planet; the plant is grown with difficulty and it will take months to harvest more. The people of Inadia Prime don't have months." Obi-Wan looked up at him with an appeal in his beautiful eyes. "Can you help me, Warlord?"

Help you ... .Lords of the Sith, I'd pay a worldprice for you ... .. He shrugged. "I can ask around. I've got quite a few contacts in the ... shall we say disreputable..end of the market."

Obi-Wan smiled, turning the room suddenly brighter. "Lord Qui-Gon, I do not particularly care at this moment if you've made deals with the Sith. My only concern is for the people of Inadia Prime."

"Very well, leave it with me." He dug into his pocket and handed Obi-Wan a card. "That's my private comchannel. Give me a call tomorrow and I'll let you know what I've found out." He bowed to Obi-Wan with a flourish. "I bid you goodnight."

"The Force be with you in your search, Lord Qui-Gon."

Obi-Wan's old Master, Seth-Orde D'Karr, hadn't been happy with his departure, had warned him of the dangers of the Heberan sector. "Passed your trials you may have, Obi-Wan, but I doubt you've ever been anywhere like that place. I should be the one going, not you. You're much too ... .innocent."

Obi-Wan had laughed. "Innocent, Master? I'm twenty and two, not a babe just out of Temple."

The old Nathorian had snorted, his wrinkled nose twitching. "In many ways you're still a babe. You trust too easily, take people as you find them. You live too much inside yourself, young one. Learn to listen to what the Force tells you. Live for the moment, and pay attention to your instincts."

"Yes, Master," he said, as he had said to the old Nathorian almost every day for ten years. He suspected that he was something of a disappointment to his Master -- he'd seemed to just drift through his apprenticeship, as if he were searching for something, without any goal in life. When the Council had decided to offer a special training course that allowed Jedi to double as Healers he'd taken it more out of curiosity than any desire to choice a life course. Somehow he felt that something important was wrong with his life. He'd just never been able to figure out what ...

He had to admit that the Nathorian had been right about the Heberan sector: it was definitely not the best place for a wandering lone Jedi. After a day of fruitless communications, report-searching and hopeless questions he'd begun to wonder what possible hope there could be. The Alderaani Star seemed to have disappeared from the Universe.

Finally, he remembered Qui-Gon Jinn. Perhaps the Warlord had found something. He returned to the accommodations supplied by the City Manager and contacted the Warlord.

"Well, I may have found something," Jinn said, watching Obi-Wan with curious intent. " If you can come to my ship and check the stats perhaps you can verify if it's what you're looking for."

Excited, Obi-Wan nodded. "I can be there immediately. It is the only scent of a lead I've found today."

"Fine. I'll send a vehicle for you; it will be there in a quarter." Jinn cut the connection and Obi-Wan went downstairs to wait. The vehicle arrived promptly and took him through the city to the starport. The Warlord's ship was a sizeable shuttle, workmanlike and chunky, with a symbol of a sun pierced by a spear painted on its side. Two heavily armoured and armed crewmen waited at the entry ramp to guide him inside.

Qui-Gon watched the Jedi enter with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity. Like everyone within the confines of the Republic, he was well aware of the fame and authority of the Jedi Knights. The Force was a power he had little understanding of, but he acknowledged its existence. Only a fool ignored strength, even if it wasn't his own. And this slight figure was such a Knight, able to call on the almost magical abilities of the Force at will. He would need to tread very carefully. And hope that his reading of this man wasn't flawed. He had an odd ability to read people that he'd never questioned, it had saved him many times during his dangerous life.

During the previous night Obi-Wan had possessed an unreal quality that Qui-Gon thought might fade in the sensible light of day. Surrounded by the social buzz of the night, in the softer lighting of the City Manager's residence, he had seemed somehow illusory. Perhaps, Qui-Gon had thought, when I see him again, I won't be as impressed.

It had been a false hope. If possible, Obi-Wan was even more perfect in the cool light of day. He moved onto Qui-Gon's shuttle bridge with the gliding grace of a dancer. The somewhat harsh lighting was kind to him, showing no flaw in the creamy skin, touching his extraordinary hair with limelight. He looked up into Qui-Gon's face and the Warlord almost flinched. Nobody, nothing, should affect him that way. It was almost indecently ... delicious.

Obi-Wan was obviously anxious and he spoke rapidly, hardly bothering with a greeting. "Lord Jinn ... thank you ... what can you tell me of the ship?"

He shrugged, staring down into the watching eyes. "I don't know where it is now. Heading back to where it came from, probably." He saw the flash of disappointment and smiled. "But I do know where its cargo is."

"Yes?"

"Yes. Its in the hold of my flagship, orbiting the planet as we speak."

He saw the surprise, the puzzlement growing in those changeable eyes. "I ... don't understand ... "

"Your freighter had been ... intercepted ... by one of my ships. When I found that, I had its cargo sent to me. And now it's to find out how much you're prepared to pay for it."

"I see." The warm voice had chilled, suddenly. "You wish ... payment ... credits, I suppose ... "

"On the contrary. I want you."

"I ... beg your pardon?"

He smiled, enjoying the bemused surprise that flowered on the Jedi's face. His crew had withdrawn as instructed, till there was just the two of them. "I said, I want you. I will release one tray of the medicine per day that you stay with me, voluntarily, doing whatever I wish -- in whatever way that I wish. One tray will, I understand, save ten thousand lives. There are twenty trays of the drug. Is twenty days of your life worth two hundred thousand lives, Jedi?"

Obi-Wan moved back a step or two, obviously stunned. "Are you mad? Or do you think me a fool?"

"On the contrary, I think you are a wise and benevolent Healer, a true Jedi. You can read my feelings, I imagine, you can tell if I am telling the truth. I will give you my oath that the drug will be despatched, one tray each morning after a day and night spent with me. I will ask nothing of you that will threaten your Jedi principles. You will share my life and my bed."

The Jedi looked down at the floor for a few moments then back up at Qui-Gon, puzzled and confused. He's so innocent ... like a child. It's too easy ...

"But ... perhaps I am misunderstanding you," Obi-Wan said softly. "Are you telling me you will send the Ephestamine onto the Inadia system if I have sex with you? For twenty days?"

"That is the offer, yes."

"And if I refuse this preposterous offer?"

"Then I will take my ship and leave -- and the Ephestamine will be spaced into the sun."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "You will kill two hundred thousand people because I refused to ... to whore for you?"

"No. You would be killing them. The choice is yours. Had you not come to me, I wouldn't have known of the drug and it would doubtless have ended up rotting in a warehouse somewhere. You have the opportunity to save those people -- the choice is entirely up to you."

He was obviously still very confused. "But ... why? What can you possibly ... "

Qui-Gon interrupted with a sigh. "Look, lets just say I usually get what I want -- and I want right now is you. In my bed. Whenever I want. Make your decision, little Jedi. My patience is not without limit."

Sharp blue eyes studied him with a wary sort of puzzlement, looking for he knew not what. If it was softness or pity, he'd be out of luck; Qui-Gon had put aside those kinds of sentiments long ago, in the face of a hard and pitiless Universe. Obi-Wan shook his head, finally, and shrugged.

"You leave me with no choice. Do I have your oath that what you have said you will do will be done?"

"You have my oath. You may even check with the authorities on Inadia from time to time if you're not sure of my oath's worth." He shrugged, smiled. "I will even send a tray now, to ease your immediate concerns."

He nodded. "Very well. I ... agree." Tucking his hands into the sleeves of his long brown robe, he took a long, unsteady breath. "I sense the shadow of Darkness about you, Lord Jinn. I shall look upon our time together as a mission. You will teach me patience and courage; perhaps I can show you the Light again."

Qui-Gon stepped forward and did something he wanted to since the first moment he'd seen the Jedi; he ran one hand through the soft hair and down over the bones of his cheek. "I'll teach you more than that, little Jedi. I'll show you what it is to be taken by a warrior. I look forward to the lessons."

The Jedi shivered briefly under his hand and it gave Qui-Gon a sudden sense of power and strength. No-one, in the living memory of his people, had ever possessed a Jedi. It was a coup worthy of a Warlord.

The Warlord's shuttle had left the planet and docked with the largest of the warships orbiting the planet, which had left orbit almost immediately and headed out of the system. Obi-Wan had been escorted to an elegantly decorated series of rooms and left alone.

He was glad of the relative silence of the empty rooms, it gave him a chance to sort out the chaos of his thoughts and emotions. Be calm, he told himself as he walked back and forth across the lush carpet. Seek your centre, dissolve the anger, the fear. Be at peace.

How simple my life has been. Uncomplicated. I looked for adventure, for excitement and I have received it. A little bit more of both than I really wanted, however. This is one course neither I nor my Master ever imagined I would expected to follow ...

Strangely enough, it wasn't the sex that alarmed him as much as it was the humiliation. He'd always been somewhat ambivalent about his sexuality. He had rarely had time or interest in liaisons; few of the women he worked with had interested him and the other Jedi had been too preoccupied with their missions and training to involve themselves with him. He'd realised at a fairly early age that he tended to be more attracted to handsome men than beautiful women, but his sex drive hadn't seemed all that powerful so it hadn't been too much of a problem.

What he'd felt emanating from Jinn was a different thing altogether. He'd never experienced lust before, not to the degree that the Warlord had projected. It was like a hunger, centred on him, a hunger to possess, to control, to dominate. There was no affection, no like mindedness, no bond. It was purely animal.

It was ... fascinating.

He shook his head and stopped in the middle of his pacing. Shame! But some part of him, some small, tucked-away, primitive part, had found that hunger somehow attractive. That anyone would want him so badly, in the face of all reason and logic, held a certain ... yes ... fascination.

Fascinating or not, it couldn't be acknowledged. He could see no opportunity for extricating himself from this predicament, but perhaps the initial desire would fade, once the goal was attained, and he would allowed to go free soon. It seemed to be his only hope. He knew he couldn't escape, even if the chance presented itself.

My pride is all is at stake, along with perhaps some slight physical damage. I can Heal that -- and my pride is insignificant compared to two hundred thousand innocent lives. And who knows ... perhaps I can persuade him ....

He was still coming to terms with his unlikely imprisonment when the door opened and Qui-Gon entered. Obi-Wan had sat on the bed to think and he jumped to his feet, pushing himself away to stand defiantly in the middle of the floor.

Qui-Gon chuckled and moved across to his Fresher stall. "A bit nervous, my little Jedi?"

"Not at all." It was so patently a lie that Obi-Wan smiled in spite of himself. "Well, perhaps a little. I've never been abducted before."

"I'm sure there are plenty who wanted to," the Warlord said from the other room. "With looks like yours, I'm surprised you're not bonded." He stuck his head out the door. "Are you ... bonded, I mean?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I have no wife. Nor any other sexual partner."

The Warlord pursed his lips. "Ever had one ... a sexual partner, that is?"

Obi-Wan blinked. "That's a very personal question."

"I know. Have you?"

He saw no harm in telling the truth. Inexperience was no sin. "No. I've never had the time."

"Well ... a virgin. That does give you a certain extra charm ... as if you needed it."

"You haven't changed your mind, then, about this insane proposition?"

Qui-Gon came out a few minutes later, bare-chested and wiping moisture from his arms and neck. "No." He tossed the towel aside and put his hands on his hips. "Undress."

Obi-Wan blinked. "What?"

"I said, undress. Strip. Take your clothes off."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. Qui-Gon waited, one eyebrow ascending. "Remember your promise -- do what I say, when I say. Or is a Jedi's word worth nothing?"

With a deep breath, Obi-Wan shrugged out of his coat, letting the long sleeved brown garment fall to the floor. He slid his lightsabre from his belt, looked about, then laid it on a small table near the bed. Then he undid his belt, unwound his waist sash and folded it, placing it and the belt on top of the sabre. He was aware of Qui-Gon watching him intently but he kept his expression placid. One by one his short jackets and undershirt followed, then his trousers and boots and finally, carefully, his undergarments. Completely naked, he stood with his arms crossed over his chest, and waited.

Qui-Gon moved forward and walked around him, trailing one finger across his upper arm and chest, his back and his other arm. In spite of his control, Obi-Wan's skin goosebumped, the hairs standing out on his arms and legs at the slight touch. Walking around him again, Qui-Gon stood behind him and slid his big, warm hands down Obi-Wan's back to rest on the swell of his buttocks. He bent forward and rested his chin on Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Beautiful. You're a work of art."

His hands moved around Obi-Wan's sides, pulling him back, stroking the firm stomach, lingering above -- but not touching -- the triangle of hair above his groin, and what nestled there. Obi-Wan stood stock still, refusing to react as a warm mouth moved through the hair at his neck and under his ear. He jumped a little as a tongue licked and probed his ear ... he tried to ignore the sensation that ran through his body, a hot fire trilling along his nerves and doing unexpected things in an altogether obvious area of his body.

Force ... and this is what happens when he just licks my ear ... .what will happen when he gets even more intimate ... .maybe I'll just explode and solve all my problems ... .

Body control was one of the earliest lessons at the temple; the young men and women had to learn to master themselves before they could master the intricacies of the Force. Using those skills he damped down on his physical reaction, dousing the first stirrings of an erection, holding himself together with an iron will. He felt Qui-Gon move away for a few moments, then return.

"Lift your arms."

Obi-Wan obeyed and Qui-Gon slipped a black silken lounging gown around him, pushing his arms into the voluminous sleaves, wrapping a wide sash around his waist and tying it in front of him. He stepped back and nodded. "Excellent. I have ordered dinner. After we have eaten you may bathe. Then I'll find out just how virginal you are."

Running one hand over the warm silken cloth, Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon turned part of his quarters into a dining area, with tables and chairs sliding from alcoves in the walls. "I have very little appetite at the moment."

Qui-Gon smiled at him as he poured a glass of wine. "I, on the other hand, have an enormous ... ..appetite." He smiled at his own wit. "For food ... and other things." He waved one hand over a remote and two droids appeared carrying trays. "Come and eat, I command it. I don't want it said that I starve my bed partners."

It wasn't worth arguing about and in spite of himself Obi-Wan did feel a little hungry. And the wine seemed like a good idea ... it might dull his mind and make the evening a little more bearable. He ate lightly, drank as much as Qui-Gon would allow him and felt himself relaxing in the warm afterglow.

Another droid appeared as they finished dining. "Master, the bath has been drawn as you requested. Do you have any further requirements?"

"Just clean away the dinner things, D4L5, then you may leave."

Qui-Gon showed Obi-Wan to the bathroom and left him to wash. The big basin was full of steaming water, a luxury few starships allowed, and he sank into the warm with a sigh. He stayed there as long as he dared, but when the water began to cool he climbed out, dried himself and put the wrap back on before returning to Qui-Gon's bedroom.

The lights had been dimmed and Qui-Gon was already in the big bed. The big man was obviously naked under the single black sheet, and he put down the report he was reading when Obi-Wan appeared. "I was about to send in a rescue party in case you'd decided to drown yourself. You know, death before dishonour."

Obi-Wan didn't answer, just stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, his arms wrapped inside the sleeves of the wrap, his feet bare and cool on the carpet. Qui-Gon held up one hand.

"Come here."

Obi-Wan's heart leapt into a thumping, uneven beat, refusing to calm in spite of all his controls. He hesitated for a moment, then his arms drop and moved across to the bed. Qui-Gon took his hand and pulled him down; he sat, rigid as a pole. With amused patience, Qui-Gon pushed him backwards until he lay on the sheet, staring up at the ceiling.

"It's like unfolding a droid with joint freeze. Relax, will you. Who knows, you may even enjoy it."

"I doubt it," Obi-Wan whispered through dry lips. "I've never been very fond of rape."

"I don't like the term rape," Qui-Gon said, resting his elbow on the bed, his chin on his hand. "and there's no reason why it has to be. Consider it services rendered for a valuable commodity. You wouldn't hesitate to risk your life to help others would you? I'm not asking for your life ... just sex. Not a big deal."

Obi-Wan turned to look and blinked. "You do not know me, Qui-Gon," he said, using the other's name for the first time that fateful day, "or you would not suggest that. It is, indeed, a big deal. I am not only a Jedi -- I am a person. And there is a difference."

"Talk, talk, talk," Qui-Gon said, sliding sideways to undo the wrap's sash, letting the silken material slide away. "Let me show you what else can be done with mouths but talk ..."

He took Obi-Wan's head between his hands and covered his mouth with his own. The kiss was searching, deep, his tongue tasting the depths of Obi-Wan's mouth. Obi-Wan tasted the meal, the wine and something else. The alien, powerful flavour of passion. Qui-Gon licked the hair over his mouth, let his lips travel over Obi-Wan's face to his throat, his fingers running through the Jedi's hair, letting it spill through his fingers, stroking his forehead, his cheeks, all the way down to his throat.

He lay still, using all of his concentration to force his body not to react, to remember that his act was not of his choice. It was difficult for, in spite of all, he was attracted to this man. Illogical. Foolish. Instructive.

Qui-Gon was talking, speaking in some odd language, his hands roaming over Obi-Wan's chest, down to his stomach and finally to his groin. Obi-Wan literally spasmed when Qui-Gon took his penis in one hand, fingering the fine length of it. "Easy," he whispered, his warm breath sighing against Obi-Wan's ear. "I won't hurt you. I just want to touch you."

The Warlord explored his body, strong fingers spreading his legs to touch his most private parts, cradling his balls, running his hands over Obi-Wan's thighs and across his stomach. By the time he was finished the Jedi was twitching with nervous tension. And something very dangerously close to arousal. That's enough of that he told his traitorous body. Think cold showers. Think icy, barren wastes. Think what the Master would say if he could see you now ... And he mentally groaned. Twenty nights of this ... I'll go mad ....

Qui-Gon took one of his hands. "I want you to touch me. Gently, remember. I bruise easily." And then his took the captive hand and placed it on his groin.

Obi-Wan froze. The tips of his fingers were touching the curling dark hair above the partially aroused penis. He tried not to look at Qui-Gon, but the Warlord forced his chin up. "Touch me. I want to feel your hand on me. Do as I say."

Obi-Wan bit his lip and slid his hand down. Qui-Gon's penis twitched as his fingers touched it, as if it had a mind of its own. It surged up into his grasp and he folded his fingers around it. Qui-Gon gasped and twitched, his hands tightening on Obi-Wan's cock. Slowly, gently, Obi-Wan worked Qui-Gon's cock, stroking it gently from base to tip, fascinated in spite of himself at the Warlord's shuddering reaction. It came to him that in that moment he controlled the Warlord, just for a time, in the most primitive of ways. He increased the pressure slightly, ran his nails along the sensitive underside and felt pleased as Qui-Gon groaned and arched back.

"For ... a virgin ... you learn ... quick."

"So my Masters at the Temple told me," Obi-Wan said, pleased at his own calm voice, in spite of the fact that Qui-Gon still held his own manhood in his hand.

Then he stopped, suddenly, and lay back, letting Qui-Gon go. The Warlord took a deep breath and lay back next to him. "Was I starting to stir a little passion in that cool Jedi heart?"

"Not at all. Do what you wish, but don't expect my willing participation." For the first time in his adult life, Obi-Wan felt truly angry. "I am no-one's sex toy. I will stay because I must. I will not participate."

Qui-Gon propped himself back up on his elbow and let one handle stroke along Obi-Wan's thigh. "I have always risen to a challenge. Oh dear, another bad pun." He watched Obi-Wan's rigidly maintained control and laughed. "Relax, little one, tonight we just get to know each other. Time enough for more."

With that he rolled over, pulled the quilt around himself and snuggled against Obi-Wan. In a short time he was asleep.

It took the Jedi a lot longer to sleep, and very strange dreams swirled around him during the long night.

The days that followed were tedious, the nights a constant battle of wills.

Obi-Wan suspected that beneath the picture of power and restraint that Qui-Gon projected, he was desperate for a response from Obi-Wan, some sign of acceptance beyond the simple agreement of the fact. As the days and nights passed it became harder to keep him at a distance; the medicine was being delivered as promised and the disease was coming under control.

Luckily it had been confined to one city and stringent quarantine had ensured that it hadn't spread.

And in spite of himself, Obi-Wan was coming to appreciate Qui-Gon as a person. He had begun to read the spirit of the man, had begun also to sense something odd about him, a familiar tingle in the aura he projected. And as much as he sensed Qui-Gon's desire for him, the older man had never actually forced Obi-Wan into intercourse.

Often it was just talk, and often he would simply sleep next to him, or wrap himself around the younger man in comfortable intimacy. Obi-Wan was coming to believe that Qui-Gon wanted him for reasons beyond the physical. But a hard life and many shattered beliefs had left the big man unable to express himself in gentler ways.

Each night that ate together and Qui-Gon would talk to him of his life, of his scattered dominion of poor worlds held together by loyalty and need.

One such night he told the story of Saran, his home world, in a sadly gentle voice.

"It was a lovely world, Saran. Not very big as worlds go, so I'm told. With a population of about fifteen million and very little in the way of valuable resources the people had no real power in the Republic. So when the sun went unstable and they only had a few day's notice to evacuate, they weren't all that surprised when no-one bothered to offer help."

Obi-Wan, lying beside him on the covers, arched up in shock. "No-one? How is that possible?"

He'd shrugged, rested his hands under his head and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm no politician, Jedi, all I know is that my ancestors cried out for help and were ignored. So they begged and borrowed a fleet of freighters and managed to get twenty thousand people off -- mostly women and children -- before the sun blew and turned Saran to dust. Twenty thousand, out of fifteen million."

He'd never known that. He had some vague memory of a footnote somewhere but it had made no impression. But the thought that the Senate had ignored the world in its plight shocked him.

"Did they ask the Jedi Council for help?"

"I have no idea, it isn't mentioned in the History. But those twenty thousand were set wandering, trying to find a home. Everywhere they went they were turned away, unwanted. Many, many died, till finally they were fed up with seeing their children starve and they stole what they needed to survive. So they were called thieves and pirates and they were hunted down. While they were running away one day they hid inside a nebula and found a small uninhabited world, only just fit for use. So they settled there, worked themselves to early graves to build a new home. Newsaran is a testament to a people who wouldn't die. And I am their leader and I will never let anyone threaten their future again."

Qui-Gon was the hereditary chieftain, following a legacy of leadership handed down from his parents, trained from childhood to defend and lead his people. In spite of himself, Obi-Wan began to understood his captor, to appreciate those parts of him that fought for the future of his people. There was much to respect there, much to like.

A week after his imprisonment they were nearing the outer worlds of the Dominion when the alarm claxons began sounding. Obi-Wan's reading was interrupted by Qui-Gon's hurried entrance to their quarters. He began buckling on battle armour and explained the situation as he dressed.

"Its the damned pirates. They've banded together and they're attacking Newsaran. There's a squadron of their ships heading our way. Things will be getting nasty shortly."

Inexperienced in battle Obi-Wan might be, but he was still a Jedi. "Can I help?"

Qui-Gon stopped briefly, looked at him, eyebrows up. "Do you want to?"

"I can help you with any injured personnel and I am a trained Jedi. Let me have my lightsabre in case we're boarded."

"If we're boarded things will get more than nasty. Most of the pirates are Gulgorans."

Obi-Wan whistled. The Gulgorans were huge, almost twice the size of a standard human, bigger even than Qui-Gon's people, and armed by nature with huge fangs and poison-tipped claws. "Well, I'll just have to keep my distance."

"All right. Just be careful. Come with me."

Obi-Wan accompanied Qui-Gon to the bridge, a scene of tense activity. The big side screens showed the oncoming pirate fleet; half a dozen ugly warships bristling with ion cannons. Their own fleet was smaller in number, three smaller armed fast freighters and Qui-Gon's own battleship. It was bigger than any of the approaching pirates, but the odds still weren't favourable.

The battle was joined in a flurry of ion fire and gauss torpedoes. Two of the pirate ships exploded in silent fury, a third limped away with a torn and leaking hull. But two of Qui-Gon's ships were badly hit and the three remaining pirates concentrated their attack on Qui-Gon's flagship.

The constant fire wore down the shield generators until one section finally collapsed. It was obviously what the pirates had been waiting for -- as soon as it was down the smaller, faster of the attacking ships zoomed in and locked itself onto the warship's hull. There was a crashing explosion and the sirens began howling.

"Hull Breach Main Hull Section 23B. Repel boarders!"

Qui-Gon pulled his blaster from its holster and headed for the door. "Crunch time. Coming, Jedi?"

"Wouldn't miss it." Obi-Wan followed behind Qui-Gon and his crew out the door and along the corridor that was rapidly filling with smoke. As they turned a corner Qui-Gon skidded to a halt and ducked. A blast of fire struck the wall above his head, slicking a molten section out of it.

Fire erupted down the corridor. Two huge Gulgorans came roaring towards them, their heavy blasters sending out a barrage of blasts. Three of Qui-Gon's men went down screaming; Qui-Gon took out one of the Gulgorans but the other jumped its companion's body and kept coming. It kept firing and Obi-Wan brought his lightsabre into play, letting his Force instincts catch the blasts and direct them away, moving at a speed he'd thought he'd forgotten how to achieve.

He stopped to catch his breath, then caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. A Gulgoran had circled around to the back and come out a side passageway; as Obi-Wan turned it launched itself at Qui-Gon's back.

"Qui-Gon!" Calling on every ounce of his Force-enhanced strength he threw himself sideways, lightsabre thrust out before him like a spear. The tip of the blade caught the Gulgoran along one arm, making the huge alien snarl and turn towards him.

The force of his leap left Obi-Wan unbalanced and he was unable to twist aside to avoid the outflung needle-tip claws. The Gulgoran raked him across the chest, shredding skin, gouging into him, flooding his brain with red-hot agony. He screamed, swinging the silver blade one handed in a sweeping blow that ripped into the Gulgoran. Roaring in fury and pain, the big alien toppled sideways, blood and guts spewing out around it.

Obi-Wan staggered back against the wall, switching off the lightsabre before letting it slide to the floor from his suddenly cold fingers. He had never known such agony -- treated in others, but never felt it burn through his nervous system, blotting out thought, making each breath come out as sobbing moan. Time distorted, the battle sounds muted. It could have been seconds or hours later when he felt Qui-Gon's presence and raised his tired eyes to the white anguished face of his captor.

"Obi-Wan. Oh Gods ... are you ... you saved my life ... Lord, there's so much blood ..."

"Get me ... to bed ... need to heal myself."

He was lifted up in a pair of strong arms and carried through the smoking corridors, past the dead and the dying, into the familiar rooms. Qui-Gon managed to undress him and clean the terrible wounds, wrapping him in a cocoon of bandages to try and stop the bleeding. When he'd done what he could he lay Obi-Wan down, propping his head with pillows.

"I need.to go ... into a Healing Trance," Obi-Wan said through stiff, pain-rigid lips. "Will take ... some hours. If I don't wake or ... my pulse rate ... starts to drop. Slap me. Hard. Wake. Me. Understand?"

Qui-Gon nodded, tried to smile. "Knock some sense into, in effect. Yes, Jedi, it's a joke. Either that or I start crying, which wouldn't be a pretty picture."

Obi-Wan held onto Qui-Gon's hand, concentrating on the feel of it until the pain faded into the background and he could seek out that quiet space within him where the centre of his power lay. He fell into it and the world disappeared ....

He swam in a sea of nothingness. No feeling. No sensation. No senses to smell or taste or hear or touch. Just the awareness of self and even that was fading as he drifted towards some vast power that was becoming the one place he really wanted to be --

-- and then there was the sense of something -- a feeling as if he were being pulled -- no, not pulled but called -- a powerful sense of another that brought memories of blue eyes, a broad forehead, long silvering brown hair and large hands -- he couldn't remember why those memories were important but when he tried to forget they pulled at him again, hard and harder, became a stream of light that he finally saw. A sound that he finally heard.

// -- Obi-Wan -- come back to me //

Back where? Why?

// come back //

And that tenuous sense of another firmed into a strong, strong link that surged into his consciousness, that he accepted and took hold of and it pulled him away from the place he'd been going to and back to life --

Weakness. That the first thing. Pain. That was the next. He breathed and it hurt. He opened his eyes and that hurt. He tried to remember and even that hurt. Living -- just -- hurt. He groaned out of a dry, wracked throat and felt himself lifted. Voiced argued something about not moving him and another voice that was a part of that deep link inside him spoke again and the other voices left.

Warmth and strength poured into him and he absorbed it like water into sand. He lay for a long time just breathing, limp and tired, listening to his heart beat with slow but every-strengthening power. When it seemed right he opened his eyes again.

Sunlight. A large window letting in sunlight that pooled on the floor, golden and warm. Blue sky -- they're weren't on the ship anymore. He was half-sitting, half-lying against -- he turned his head minutely as he heard a strange sound. A very soft snore. He realised groggily that he was lying in Qui-Gon's lap where the older man sat in a large armchair near the window. His head lay against the Warlord's shoulder and Qui-Gon was asleep, his head resting against Obi-Wan's forehead, the sleeping breath stirring his hair.

Weak and disoriented as he was, at that moment he felt strangely at peace. The sense of strength, of protection, was unlike anything he'd every known. He tried a deep breath, felt the bite of the deep wounds in his flesh but it wasn't as bad as it might have been. He concentrated on breathing and wondered if there was any way he could drink of water when he sensed Qui-Gon's breathing change, felt the arms about him move as the Warlord came awake.

For a moment they were both still and sensed the grief in the older man's body, grief and guilt and loss. He moved and Qui-Gon shivered.

"Obi-Wan ... ? ... .Oh gods, I thought you were dying. I wanted to hold you so you wouldn't be alone when you went."

"I guess ..." He cleared his throat and winced. "I guess ... I'm not dying ... just yet."

He closed his eyes as Qui-Gon stroked one shaking hand over his hair. "I slapped like you asked. The medics thought I'd gone mad. But you didn't wake so I just stayed and talked to you and tried to let you know I was here. Did you hear me?"

"Think so. Heard something. Felt something." Sleep beckoned, healing rest. "Tired."

"Go to sleep then."

And he did.

After that each waking was better and he grew stronger as he wounds healed. The poison had been the worst part, causing the wounds not to heal, creating infection and fever that nearly carried him of in spite of his self-Healing. Luckily Qui-Gon's people had a small but efficient medical centre and they'd pumped him full of Antibenes and fluids. Even then it had been close and only his own resilience had saved him. That, and something else.

When he was well enough he became aware of the link. It was impossible not to feel it. The only thing he could liken it to what the Padawan/Master link he'd had with Seth-Orde , but it wasn't quite the same. It was deeper, reaching down into his Force sensitivity. It felt as if it was linked to his very sense of self -- and the other end was tied to Qui-Gon. The 'what' was amazing enough. It was the 'how' that bothered him. He hadn't initiated it -- and he was the only Jedi around. Only a Force user of tremendous ability could initiate a bonding link of such depth.

Qui-Gon was a Force sensitive. Gods, Obi-Wan thought, as he stared up at the white ceiling, what a Jedi he would have made. Untrained, unknowing, yet he'd reached out and dragged a dying Jedi back to life with the sheer power of his will.

//And in the process created a bonding link without even knowing it. I'm tied to a man who doesn't love me, who took me out of perversity and because he could. How do I tell him? What do I tell him? Can I ignore it and go away and leave my spiritual essence tied to a stranger?//

As he tried to puzzle out the problem he sensed a presence and saw two small faces peering at him around the door.

"Hullo? Are you my visitors?"

The two children came inside together, curious and hesitant. "You're the Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi," the girl said, watching him out of very familiar looking blue eyes.

"I am. And your name is ... ?"

"Destra."

"Just Destra?"

The boy, aged no more than five or six, spoke up. "She's my sister, Destra Holmer Jinn. I'm Kade Fennis Jinn. Are you sick still?"

Jinn. Qui-Gon's children? That meant a wife. Presumably. //Now, why does that hurt?//

"Does ... does your mother know you're here?"

The girl shook her head. "My mother lives out at Farpoint, so does Kade's. But father said we could visit if we were quiet." She studied him seriously, hands tucked behind her back. "So we have to be quiet."

They were dressed in neat two piece suits, the girl in crimson and gold, the boy in green and brown. Her hair was long and dark red, tied into neat braids. The boy was brown haired and brown eyed and they both had their father's intent, intelligent presence. "So where is your father?"

"Dunno," Destra said, walking over to perch herself on the edge of the bed. "Probably out at the Business Centre. It was badly hit by them pirates."

"Those pirates," Obi-Wan corrected automatically, and she frowned.

"You sound like my teacher. I get into trouble lots 'cause I'm a trickster. So she says. She thinks I'm a demon."

Obi-Wan sensed something from her and let the Force reach out to her. She jumped, looked at him wide-eyed. "You touched my head inside? How did you do that?"

A Force sensitive. Both of them were, but the girl seemed very strong. It was one of his skills, the ability to sense higher levels of midi-chlorians. And the terrible pity of it was, Destra was too old to attend the Temple, even if her father would have allowed it.

"It's a Jedi thing, Destra."

She was about to respond when she stopped and turned. "Father is coming." She hopped of the bed and both of them stood by the door, jumping out at him as he came inside.

Watching him laugh with his children was a revelation. This was no fierce, bitter Warlord but a man who loved and was loved. He picked one wiggling child up under each arm and turned towards Obi-Wan. "Have these little scamps been bothering you?"

"Not at all. They've been keeping me company."

Destra escaped from his grasp and straightened her clothing with all the presence of a young woman. "Father, Obi-Wan sensed inside my head. It was a Jedi thing and it felt funny."

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan with one eyebrow raised. "I imagine it was, little hawk. Go take your brother, you're late for class. And be good for Madam Rache."

He kissed them both and sent them on their way before turning towards Obi-Wan. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Much better." Obi-Wan pulled himself upright, wincing at the stiff soreness of his chest and Qui-Gon reached behind him to prop up his pillows. "A few more days and ..."

"... you'll be ready to leave. I know. I'll arrange transport for you."

The voice was calm, cool, but it didn't fool Obi-Wan. He studied the man he loved through honest eyes. Tall, no longer young, brown long hair tied back, silvering at temple and beard, dressed in simple dark brown trousers and knee-length boots, a cream shirt open at the throat. Elegant, handsome in a way that he didn't seem aware of. Unreachable when he chose to be. As he was then, closed liked a locked door.

"So you want me to go?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, tucked his hands behind his back. "Our arrangement didn't include your getting killed for me. All of the medicine has been sent on and the plague is under control. You more than fulfilled our agreement. It's time I gave you back your life."

"I see." He couldn't think of anything sensible to say. "Ah, you have two fine children. Is their mother..?"

"Mothers." Qui-Gon settled into the chair next to the bed. "It was my duty to have heirs but I never found a woman I cared enough for to live with, so I requested assistance from the community. Two very fine woman have provided me with two equally fine children. I remain friendly with both their mothers but it's simply friendship. An odd arrangement, I suppose, in your eyes, but it works well for me."

He wondered why his heart lifted in a sense of relief. No wife. But it didn't matter, did it? // He's sending me away. What does it matter? What does anything matter?//

His small bag containing his medicines and a change of clothes was packed and sitting on the chair. The ship to take him home was due in a few hours and he'd spent the morning alone, standing by the window of Qui-Gon's rooms, staring out of the wild beauty of the world. It wasn't a pretty place by galactic standards, its landmasses mostly jagged mountain ranges and high plateaus, ice-cold in the winter, its climate wild and unpredictable. Yet its people loved it, fought to tame it enough to support them, but only enough. It would never be a gentle world.

He focused on his reflection in the glass. Injury and fever had thinned him, putting hollows in his cheeks, shadows under his eyes. He'd lost quite a bit of weight and could still only walk short distances before he had to sit. He was certainly better than the frail thing that had almost died in Qui-Gon's arms.

"So what are you going to do? Just pick up your bag, say bye and get on board the ship and leave. And presumably never come back."

He leaned against the glass, rested his head on its cool surface. It felt so wrong. He had a duty to return to his work but what of his duty to himself, to the man he loved? What of this world, with its wild, talented children who would never be tested, never be Jedi.

//Unless you train them.//

He straightened, frowning. Could he do that? Could he train children to use the Force? It was such a radical idea that it took a moment or two to get his thoughts around it. Why not? Start an enclave, train the young ones, perhaps even one or two of the older ... //maybe even Qui-Gon, though everything said he was far too old ... but he is so smart, so strong. He's nowhere near the Dark and never would be, if I stayed ... //

He mouth curled up in a sudden smile. He'd been thinking of it from the wrong direction. Trying to reason it out. What he needed here wasn't reason ...

He nodded to himself, and began to undress. First, a bath. Then, a seduction.

He'd worked himself hard over the previous few days to try and make himself so tired that he didn't have to think. Even avoided being near the Jedi, though it didn't seem to matter. Wherever he was, he could sense Obi-Wan as if he carried the man's scent in his nostrils, as if the image of him were tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. Would he always be haunted by the memory of something he could never have?

// And the ridiculous thing is, I brought it all on myself. There is, indeed, no fool like an old fool.//

He walked into his rooms and stopped just inside the door. The curtains were drawn, a pair of large candles had been lit and an aromatic burner was releasing the warm scent of musk into the air. He looked around, puzzled, until Obi-Wan entered the room.

The younger man was wearing one of Qui-Gon's lounge robes, a gift given to him by the mother of his son. Made of Chiriskysilk it was a deep, shimmering blue that flowed around the Jedi like water as he moved. It was tied across his chest and stomach with tasselled ties and he could see that Obi-Wan had nothing on under it.

Qui-Gon couldn't have moved if the planet had shifted from its orbit. He watched, pupils expanding in the dim light, as Obi-Wan came to a stop in front of him. Qui-Gon could smell him, the clean odour of washed skin, his damp hair, his own personal odour. He watched the slim hands reach up and undo his jacket, slip it over his shoulders.

"What ..."

"You need to get undressed." The voice was low and warm.

"I do?" He was obviously becoming unhinged.

"Yes, you do. Would you like me to undress you?"

//Would I ...// "Ah ... .umm."

"I'll take that as a yes." Obi-Wan began unbuttoning the shirt slowly, stroking the cloth as he worked, hand moving gracefully over the fabric. When he'd opened the shirt he moved down to the belt, unclipped it and slid it off, letting it drop as he moved to Qui-Gon's pants. One hand moved very gently down over the clasp and Qui-Gon twitched as the claps slid apart. Obi-Wan slid the pants off Qui-Gon's hips, pulling his underpants down at the same time. He pushed Qui-Gon back gently, making him step out of his clothing till he was next to the bed wearing only his shirt and a perfectly stunned expression.

Bright blue eyes looked up at him, brighter and bluer than he remembered and he fell into them, intoxicated. "Would you sit please?"

He sat and watched as Obi-Wan knelt in front of him, the fabric of the gown billowing around him. He watched the younger man undo and remove his boots and socks and drop them aside -- then Obi-Wan pushed his legs apart and he looked down in growing astonishment and arousal as those same hands gently raised his penis.

And before he could even get accustomed to that idea Obi-Wan moved forward and took it into his mouth.

//I've died. That's it. This is some sort of afterlife where dreams come true.// And then thought became unnecessary as his head fell back and his entire body quivered like a bell being struck as that mouth worked impossible magic on him. One hand held his penis at the root, the other stroked him, balls, thighs, stomach, clever fingers gently touching him so that his skin felt like one single nerve end, stimulated into ecstasy.

Obi-Wan worked on the rapidly hardening cock, using his mouth and tongue to bring it to full erection. After a time he pulled back and reached into the pocket of his gown, took out a small jar and uncapped it. Taking some of the lubricant on his fingers he spread the cream around Qui-Gon's penis until it was entirely coated. Then he looked up, smiling, into the older man's heated, dazed face and pushed him backwards onto the bed.

He undid the clips of his gown and let it fall, then turned, climbed on top of the Warlord and slowly, carefully, lowered himself onto Qui-Gon's engorged penis.

Nothing ... nothing had ever felt that good. Qui-Gon watched Obi-Wan move himself up and down, eyes closed, mouth open as he worked his own penetration, controlled his own possession. Unable to resist, Qui-Gon thrust up as Obi-Wan moved down, sinking his cock deep into the tight, hot passage. He had enough intelligence left to wonder how the young man could take him in so easily ... something to do with being Jedi he supposed.

Then nothing mattered but that mutual obsession. They moved together, joined together, bucking and rocking, climbing to some impossible orgasm that ripped through them at almost the same moment and left them gasping and speechless side by side.

Qui-Gon rolled over, held Obi-Wan beneath him, licked the perspiration from face and throat. "Why did you do that?"

Blue/green eyes blinked lazily. "You didn't like it? I thought I did quite well for an amateur. Of course, I know all the theory ..."

"It was wonderful, as you well know. You didn't answer my question."

Obi-Wan expelled a deep breath, pushing Qui-Gon upwards. "I was hoping I could seduce you so thoroughly that you'd ask me to stay."

"Stay? After what I did to you? How can you want to stay?"

"I suppose I must ... love you." The last words came out as a whisper and Qui-Gon frowned.

"Could you..say that again? I could have sworn you said you loved me."

Obi-Wan began to wriggle under him. "Please don't make fun of this, its important to me, it's ..."

Smiling, the Warlord bent again and covered the talkative mouth with his lips, pushing it open, sinking his tongue inside in a deep, demanding kiss. He opened his mouth wide, used his teeth and tongue and lips in the most encompassing contact he could, swallowing the young man's gasping breath, hands holding his head still, body covering Obi-Wan's in a solid sheath of arm and chest and leg.

When he drew back to allow both of them to breath his voice was dry and shaking with need. "You don't leave now, Jedi. I don't care about your Order or your rules or what plans you might have had for the rest of your life. You stay with me. You help me find out how many ways there are for two people to give each other pleasure. If you don't like that I'm sorry but that's the way it has to be. Any arguments?"

Obi-Wan wrapped his arms and legs around Qui-Gon, rubbing himself against the Warlord in a sinuous, erotic dance. "Not one, Master."

Qui-Gon frowned. "What?"

"I had a Master who taught me how to behave like a Jedi. Now I have a Master who will teach me how to live as one. All things in balance, thank the Force."

He didn't understand, it was obviously some of that odd Jedi nonsense. But he understood the love, he understood the passion that swept them up again and again -- but he wondered if he would ever truly understand the one who held his heart in such young and gracious hands.

THE END