Disclaimer: Dear George--you are filthy rich, and I am not. You
own the copyrights and I do not. Make nice and don't sue me
please? It's your own fault for creating such delicious
characters!
Rating: PG-13 (for M/M implied)
Warnings: nosex...sorry, can't seem to write those yet. Also,
not beta'd.
Summary: The 800-word Keeper's Challenge...I've got the
communicators.
Notes: I dedicate this li'l bunny my Masters HiperBunny and Fi
(who make the Slashy Side soooo appealing) and to Rina whose
'Night Calls' inspired me to claim those Jedi communicators in
the first place! Ya want to see what I WISH I could have made
this story? Read Rina's story. Thanks for this inspiring story,
Rina! --Anything that starts like this line did is
speech-via-communicator, just to make a distinction. Besides, I
just re-read Trainspotting and the formatting grew on me. =)
I'm ten words over the limit, but I hope people will forgive!!
--Obi-Wan? Obi-Wan!
--...Master? Why is it so dark?
--The generators were destroyed when the earthquake hit.
--So that's what it was...
--I'm with the excavation crews. Can you pinpoint your
location, Padawan?
--The Palace library, on the...north end of the really old
Records section, second service level down.
--In the sub-levels? It will take some time to get down that
far.
--I believe so. Don't worry, Master. There's plenty of air
and...my position is secure.
--I'll direct one of the excavation crews to that area. Can you
sense any other people in that section of the Palace?
--I can't tell.
--Odd, indeed. Even knowing where you are I can barely read
your presence in the Force.
--Yes. Did you know, Master, that the old Records section is
panelled with barratta wood?
--I see. Damnable circumstance. They would have to use Force
dampening building materiel.
--Well, it is a remarkable fire retardant. Most of the older
Records stored in this section date back nearly four hundred
years. I believe they intended to preserve the original printed
documents for posterity.
--What the wood is retarding at this point, my dear Padawan, is
the ability to locate you.
--You can't sense me at all, can you Master?
--No, my Obi-Wan.
--Oh, good...
--Why do you think I used the comm--what did you say?
--Uh...nothing Master. Picked up some static there.
Silence. Then--
--Is everything all right, Obi-Wan?
--Certainly.
--Padawan?
--Well, yes. Mostly.
--Mostly?
--I've plenty of air, but as I said there's no light so I can't
quite make it out. The barratta wood is interfering down here,
too. Um...how many people were in the Palace when it collapsed?
--Are you trying to change the subject, Padawan?
--Yes, Master. There's nothing we can do about this until I get
out of here so I thought I'd--
--Oh, my Obi-Wan. You are too selfless for your own good. I'll
check with the scanner team. Are you free to move?
--Well, when I said my position was secure I really meant it,
Master.
More silence.
--Obi-Wan, are you trapped? Are you injured in any way?
--You really are as stubborn as they say.
--Answer the question, Padawan.
--The wall came down on me, but one of those damnable barratta
panels blocked most of it. It doesn't even hurt much anymore.
--Anymore?
--Forget I said anything. Any word on the survivors, Master?
A bitten-off curse and some discussion out of the communit's
pickup.
--The scanner crews have finished their sweep. The Palace
hospice has been completely evacuated and they're down to the
kitchen levels. We should reach your level within the hour.
--Thank the Force for the Anniversary Hunt. At least most
everyone was out of the Palace and safe.
--Except for you, Padawan.
--There are others here, Master.
--None so deep underground. And none so beloved as you.
The silence stretched taut between them. Instinctively, Obi-Wan
reached through the bond they shared, seeking reassurance,
seeking the familiar warmth of his Master's mind. The Force
skittered through his control like sand through a sieve.
Obi-Wan had never believed that the word defined the moment. He
had always been content with the certainty that his Master
loved him, knew the truth of it every time they merged in the
closeness of their bond. But in all their years together, he'd
never realized the power of giving it a name.
Beloved.
How simple a word, yet how overwhelming! He felt transformed by
the truth, stated for all the galaxy to hear. He'd never
doubted, had never felt the lack of the endearment until he
heard it applied to himself.
Beloved.
--Obi-Wan, my love, are you well? We're nearing the north
walls, can you hold on a while longer?
--I would wait forever, Master.
Light was filtering in through the steadily shifting debris as
the excavating droids neared. Then he was smiling up into the
beloved face of his Master, as though for the first time.
"Don't you ever do that to me again! Obi-Wan, you nearly
bled to death under that damnable board. I will thank you to be
certain you do not deliberately mislead me as to your state of
health in the future."
"Yes, Master."
"Thank the Force you had your communicator. I would have gone
mad if I could not have reached you somehow."
"Yes, Master."
"We shall have to install some sort of homing beacon in these
communicators. Make a note of it, Obi-Wan."
"Yes, Master."
"Are you feeling better, Padawan?"
"Very much so, Master."
"Then come here, my love. Come here."
"Yes, Master..."
* ** end ** *
Author's aside: Aaack! Sorry for the fadeout. I still can't
write smut. I promise, I'm working on it.
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