Archive: yes to M_A and SWAL; also www.jbx.com/~gila
Disclaimers: No profit is being made by the posting of this
fiction. All characters belong to their respective copyright
holders.
Notes: Thanks to Lori for the beta, and to betha for the bribe
to finish!
Summary: Have you seen the movie The BeastMaster? That outfit
Dar wears is what Obi-Wan is wearing. Obi-Wan finds himself in
an unusual situation.
Rated PG.
It was a dark and stormy planet.
Obi-Wan stumbled and caught himself against something rough and
wet. The rain made it difficult to make out anything about his
surroundings, with the exception of the tree he was now
flattened against.
"Master?" he called out, though the wind caught his words and
whipped them away before he could even hear himself. He started
to shout again, but he knew Qui-Gon wasn't there.
Whatever it was he'd stumbled across down in the fourth lowest
basement at the Jedi Temple, it hadn't been a bookshelf. It had
looked like a bookshelf. It had even had books piled on
it so it had been acting like a bookshelf. But bookshelves
usually didn't transport a person to another planet.
He knew it was another planet because Corusant hadn't had
trees, rain, or mud, in centuries. Obi-Wan pulled his cloak
around him and ducked against the tree trunk for what little
shelter it could provide. He'd try to wait out the storm before
finding out what had happened.
Fifteen minutes later, cold, wet, and wishing he had better
learned how to use the Force as an umbrella, Obi-Wan found the
rain had stopped. Tossing his hood back, he stood and looked
around. It looked like a rain-drenched forest. The sun broke
out suddenly, and he gasped.
He recognised every single plant here. Was he in one of
Corusant's nature preserves, then? If so, he should have felt
his Master's presence, even if he had been sent half-way to the
other side of the planet. But he didn't feel anything.
Obi-Wan reached out again to make sure, and found no sign of
his Master at all.
He shivered, and tried not to think about what that might mean.
Instead, he looked around the spot he'd appeared in, looking
for any explanation for what had happened. All he found was a
black ring, as if the ground had been scorched. Very carefully
he used the Force to examine it. It felt strange, as if it were
not entirely solid. He pushed, and felt it give slightly. When
he pushed harder, it held fast, however.
"That's odd," he muttered, and tried again, using finesse
instead of strength.
It didn't budge.
He worked at it for nearly half an hour and got nowhere.
Obi-Wan sat back on his heels, and sighed. He'd have to start
out on foot, then, and find the park rangers. Pulling the
soaking cloak around him, Obi-Wan started off. When he got home
he was going to demonstrate a very un-detached appreciation for
a warm bath and dry clothes.
He'd taken three steps when he realised he couldn't be in a
park because it never stormed in the climate-controlled
preserves. The plants were watered with irrigation systems, and
there was never any wind because the parks were walled in.
So where was he?
He couldn't answer that question here, in the middle of
wherever he was. Obi-Wan turned around and concentrated on the
spot he'd arrived at -- committing the place to memory, tagging
it mentally with a little Force-beacon that he could find
later, then headed off to find... anything. Someplace
dry.
Obi-Wan let the Force guide him, picking his way through
underbrush and low-hanging tree-branches, and being very glad
his boots were sturdy and waterproof. He was startled when he
realised that someone was tracking him -- someone using the
Force, and someone friendly.
That someone was walking towards him. Obi-Wan stopped and
waited.
The newcomer, an older woman dressed very simply in a short
vest and belted leather skirt, smiled as she saw him.
"Greetings, traveler," she called out, still heading for him.
Obi-Wan noticed that she was not soaking wet, and hoped
that boded well for there being shelter nearby.
Then his brain told him he had automatically translated her
words from the ancient language of the Jedi.
Obi-Wan leaned against a tree.
"Greetings," he replied as she came closer. She frowned, and
Obi-Wan wondered if he'd already managed to offend her, but she
just stepped up to him.
"Are you well?" she asked.
"I.. think so...." Obi-Wan said, pushing himself upright again
and trying to center himself. Plants that hadn't existed on
Coruscant for centuries, a language that hadn't been used for
centuries....
And a bookshelf that the children told stories about, giggling
at night about the "haunted" part of the store room that no one
ever went into anymore because things sometimes appeared and
disappeared without a trace.
He wondered why his master had sent him down there for that
obscure book, and decided to bloody well ask him. In
about ten thousand years, give or take a millenium.
"My name is Cale. Our temple is near; please come." She smiled
again and indicated a path back the way she'd come. Obi-Wan
followed, trying to put some order to the dozens of questions
he had.
He knew, above all, he could not do anything that would change
things. He couldn't tell them anything of the future, of the
Jedi... hell, even of the Force. So much had been learned in
the past few thousand years... Obi-Wan tried to recall his
history lessons. When had they learned what?
He rubbed his head. First, find out when you are, he told
himself. Then worry about it.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Cale asked again, glancing
back.
"Yes. I've just... the trip took more out of me than I'd
thought it would."
She smiled. "The journey to the Temple is a trying one, for
many. I am pleased that you have come; the others will be
equally pleased. We are so few, and that you -- one who is so
strong in the Force -- should choose to join our Order, is a
blessing indeed."
They continued in silence, though it wasn't long before Obi-Wan
saw a large, stone temple through the trees. He recognised it
instantly. The second Jedi Temple. It was surrounded
immediately by a cleared courtyard, lined with a shin-high
stone wall. Beyond that wall was roughly twenty yards' worth of
cleared land, then nothing but forest. Behind the Temple
Obi-Wan could see signs of agriculture.
The Temple itself was sparsely decorated with a few carvings in
the stone, including the runes depicting the name of "Jedi"
above the high doors. The first temple had been even less
detailed, and had been smaller and without a cultivated
courtyard. It had been destroyed about a hundred years after it
had been built by the storms on the untamed Corusant. The third
Temple hadn't been built for nearly two thousand years after
the second was built.
That told him very little about when he was, now, other than it
wasn't the first century of the Jedi Order or after the
twenty-first. Compared to 10,000 years it narrowed things down,
but from his own perspective it was still quite a bit of time.
He saw other Jedi outside the Temple; as they came closer they
began assembling into a group. Cale stopped, looked at him, and
held out a hand. "Welcome to the Temple, Master."
He didn't blink. Master? His hand started to drift upwards,
towards his Padawan's braid. He'd not even be a Knight for at
least two years. It was on his tongue to correct her -- he
hadn't done anything, after all, to deserve the title.
But he nodded. The traditions he followed they knew nothing
about. And, strong and trained in the Force as he was, he would
no doubt be as a Master, here. "I am Obi. I am...." He stopped,
and grinned in genuine astonishment. "This is extraordinary!"
The gathered Jedi laughed. They came forward and introduced
themselves one at a time. Obi-Wan did his best to learn their
names, but mostly what he discovered was just strong each was
with the Force. Some were strong as he. Most were much less.
None were stronger. None felt as powerful in the Force as his
Master, or any of the other Jedi Masters he knew. It was an odd
way to get a promotion, he thought, as they led him inside. If
you can't be the strongest fish in your pool, move to a smaller
pool.
One of the Jedi led him through the Temple towards a room.
"This will be yours, during your stay with us. Suria is
bringing some clothes."
"Thank you," Obi-Wan told him, stepping into the room. It was
sparsely furnished, a cot and a small table and a window high
in the wall. It wasn't any worse than a hundred other rooms
he'd been quartered in. There were few amenities, but it was
clean and dry, and there was a bed. He really didn't need much
else.
His examination of the room was interrupted by Suria's arrival.
The young boy, about 14 or 15 Obi-Wan guessed, was holding a
bundle in his arms. A small bundle.
Obi-Wan suddenly flashed on what every other male Jedi had been
wearing and realised what he was being given. He had to admit
the outfit would prevent having constantly soaked clothing from
to the daily rainfall. And warm as it was, he certainly didn't
need to be covered from head to toe.
He accepted the offered clothing graciously and began to remove
his own. Suria assisted him, taking each dripping-wet item and
folding it carefully. "These will be cleaned, Master Obi, and
returned on the morrow."
Obi-Wan bit his tongue against telling the boy not to call him
Master. The thing of it was, at this point in the Jedi history
he was a Master. His knowledge and skills were as much,
and a bit more, than any here could hope to achieve.
When Suria had all his clothing taken away, Obi-Wan picked up
the belt he'd been given. It was a belt, for all that
there were strips of leather hanging from it, and a loop from
which to hang a scabbard. He put it on and looked down at
himself. It was certainly... certainly. He moved his hips and
watched the leather strips sway back and forth. The stone floor
was cool beneath his bare feet and he considered retrieving his
boots. But another rolled bundle turned out to be soft leather
moccasins. He put them on. Suria had brought nothing else.
He grinned at himself, then tried to regain what should pass
for proper Jedi composure. It was difficult to do with
everything hanging free. But a Jedi persevered under all
circumstances. His Master had taught him that.
His Master had never anticipated him wearing anything like
this.
And if he had....
Obi-Wan picked up his own belt, coiled it up, and placed it
inside the pouch he'd been given. He left his lightsaber on
top, hidden but within reach. He wouldn't be able to use it
without lengthy and dangerous explanations, but in an emergency
he preferred explanations.
When he was as fully dressed as he could hope to be, he left
his room and went in search of answers. He found Suria in the
hallway, heading towards him. Obi-Wan smiled. "Just the person
I was looking for!"
Suria returned the smile and walked up. "What can I do for you,
Master Obi?"
"I'd like to visit your library." The best and safest way to
get the answers he needed.
"Of course! It's this way." The boy gestured, and they headed
off together. The hallways were all the same dark orange-brown
color. Local stone, Obi knew, cut into huge pieces and placed
end to end. The stone absorbed heat to a degree, and held it in
slightly. This would make it more comfortable at night when the
temperature fell. The wide, open courtyards would be where the
Jedi gathered during the day, studying, practising, and
learning to understand the Force.
Obi-Wan didn't know if it were summer, but the heat in the
hallway was significantly higher than it had been outside. He
was briefly grateful not to be dressed in his full robes.
Even if he did feel somewhat self-conscious. He knew he
didn't have to be -- Suria was dressed the same, and Obi-Wan
himself had worn all sorts of costumes during his training,
visiting planets and people which demanded they attire
themselves "appropriately".
There had even been the time when "appropriately" had meant
nothing at all. He remembered that mission rather
fondly. Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his guide. "How
long have you been studying?" he asked.
They talked along the way, and Obi-Wan gained a better
understanding of just when he was likely to be. Suria had named
various levels he'd acheived, others he hoped to acheive this
year. It didn't help him pinpoint the year, but it narrowed
things down to a couple centuries, possibly five or six
centuries after the formation of the Jedi Order.
Of course, he still didn't know how knowing when he was
would help him return home. But it would be a first step.
Suria took him into a large room lined with shelves. Obi-Wan
blinked. Old-fashioned readers -- well, of course. Each
hand-held reader contained a single set of books loaded into
its memory. He could not simply sit down at a central terminal
and search for everything he wanted.
Suria began a brief tour of the library, explaining where
topics were stored. Obi-Wan nodded, then soon enough Suria was
asking him if there was anything else he could do.
"No, Suria, thank you. I shall be able to find my way easily
enough, now."
The boy nodded. "If you need anything, the callbell is there by
the desk." He pointed. Again, an ancient device -- Obi-Wan told
himself he was wasting time noting that anything was 'ancient'.
Suria took his leave, then, and Obi-Wan looked at the shelves.
History, first, then he'd move on from there.
Ten minutes later he knew the exact year. As he'd suspected, it
didn't help. He continued reading, however, searching now for
references to the strange patch of ground he'd arrived at, and
the children's stories about the "haunted" basement. The day
passed quickly, and he was startled when someone approached the
table where he'd been sitting.
"Master Obi?"
He looked up at the woman. He didn't recall her name, though
she'd introduced herself earlier. "Yes?"
"Evening meal is going to be served, soon. I thought you might
need a guide." Her smile said she'd also suspected he'd need
reminding to leave the books to eat.
He grinned. "Thank you." He marked the spot where he'd been
reading, and set the reader aside, heading out to dinner.
The mess hall was, surprisingly enough, much like the one he
was used to. Long tables with Jedi segregated by age, training,
and choice gathered around them. The noise of conversation rose
into the high ceiling, swallowed only partially by the thick
walls. Everyone seemed happy, relaxed, and... someting Obi-Wan
coulnd't put his finger on.
If he closed his eyes, it would feel almost like the Temple
dining hall back home. Almost.
That was the difference he felt. The Force fairly vibrated
here, through the Jedi, through the Temple, just as it did in
his own time. But it also pulsed with life from outside, with a
quality much different than that he knew. The Corusant he knew
pulsed with the busy lives of billions of people of all
species. People, droids, ships, communications -- everything
with a vibrant presence in the Force.
Here everything was still wild. Untouched by sentient hands,
the planet grew as it wished, unyoked and unsullied. Species of
animals and plants long gone from all but history books and
labs filled the world with their presence.
And, somehow, it made the Temple feel more alive.
Obi-Wan followed the woman to a table and sat down, exchanging
greetings with the other Jedi there. Most were older, no doubt
other Masters. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh at his own Master's
reaction to hearing of Obi-Wan's status. He would smile, and
make some soft joke, then ask a thousand questions.....
Obi-Wan blinked back a surge of worry. If he made it back to
tell his Master anything.
A plate was set before him, and Obi-Wan focused on his meal.
After meals, there were communal activities. Sparring,
debating, lectures: everyone gathered in the huge
auditorium-styled room and created what seemed like impromptu
groups. Obi-Wan sat and listened to an elderly man deliver a
lecture on the purpose of the Force. He kept silent, eerie
though it was to hear phrases being spoken which he'd studied
as a small child. There were plenty of other phrases which he'd
never heard, which the Jedi of his day believed utter
nonsense. In both cases, he simply listened, quietly and
attentively.
Afterwards, Obi-Wan returned to his room to meditate. He had no
idea what he was going to do, how he was getting home. But, as
he cast his mind away, letting his thoughts fall silent and his
being show itself one with the Force, he lost his worry.
The next morning he rose early, performed some stretches and
warm-ups in the privacy of his room. The outfit he'd been given
made it oddly easy to move. So used to throwing down his cloak
and shifting his arms in the lengths of his sleeves as he
fought or trained, it was like practising totally naked. He
considered suggesting to the Council that they adopt the
uniform again, and laughed at the imagined expressions on the
Councilmembers' faces.
After breakfast in the dining hall, he returned to the library.
Two weeks later, he was still reading books. His routine was
established -- mornings and afternoons in the library with
breaks only for meals. Evenings were spent in the common room
with the others, listening and watching to everything. He was
careful not to speak of his own thoughts on the subjects
discussed.
Even when he was fairly sure it would be nothing new, he could
not be certain he would not influence something. One word, one
thought spoken, and someone might start thinking along
otherwise unconsidered lines. An new idea could lead to any
kind of imagined or unimagined change. Obi-Wan could not risk
changing his future, so he kept his silence.
No one seemed to find his behaviour odd. Apparently it was
common for Jedi to sequester themselves in the library, reading
for days or weeks on end. When someone brought in a book they'd
borrowed, they first asked Obi-Wan if it should be re-filed, or
if he preferred it be added to a short stack on the table, so
as not to make him miss a book in his systematic study.
Obi-Wan found much of what he read boring or unhelpful, and set
aside many of the books. But some were fascinating. Texts he'd
never seen before, studies long lost to the Jedi -- whether
deliberate or not, he didn't know. There were several things he
would have to talk to his Master about, or possibly Master
Yoda.
But still he read. Book after book, looking for any clues to
help him find a way home. He considered returning to the spot
he'd arrived at and studying it further. But he'd done so upon
his arrival, as thoroughly as he could with no help or
instruments. Neither was likely to be had, here -- not without
reveling who he was.
So he studied. Listened, watched, and read.
Days passed, and he began spending part of his mornings in the
courtyards. Sometimes he observed the younger Jedi's training,
sometimes he joined in on the simpler katas. Most of the ones
he knew were more refined and more complex, requiring more and
subtler control of the Force. But the simplest exercises were
barely changed. When he joined them, he drew no comment other
than his skill.
He also began spending time in the afternoons working. He'd
realised during a midday meal that every member of the Temple
had been taking turns serving, and clearing. It was obvious,
once he noticed, that all the Temple's chores were shared.
He'd asked how he could help, and he'd been added to the daily
rotation with little more comment than gratitude. He'd been
told that his studies were as important as the work -- the
purpose of the Temple was to learn, after all. They knew that
he might discover or deduce something which could benefit them
all. He'd felt guilty at that, knowing he could share nothing
he learned, and quietly added the chores to his daily routine.
The days grew cooler as autumn grew near. The hallways and
rooms were cool in the first hour of morning, though still
warming quickly as the sun rose. Obi-Wan thought of what he
knew of Corusant's natural winter, and knew there would be no
need to make preparations. Less rain, and shorter days were
essentially it.
It meant he wouldn't be getting rid of this outfit anytime
soon. It was, he supposed, just as well he was getting used to
it.
It was almost exactly two months after he'd arrived when
Obi-Wan found the text he'd been hoping for. It described the
natural places on Corusant found to be strong with the Force.
There had been other chapters describing the phenomenon on
other planets, including the one on Dagobah. This one was more
recent, and contained a brief passage on a spot suspected to
have a strange connection.
The passage was brief, but long enough to tell him he'd found
it. People, animals, objects, sometimes disappeared in this
area, it said. They rarely returned, and when they did - and
were sentient to explain - they spoke of alien landscapes and
frigthening visions.
The author did not suspect the connection was to other times,
but Obi-Wan didn't care. What it did say was that there
was a way to predict these transportations in order to avoid
them.
Or, for Obi-Wan, to use them.
He read and re-read the passage, checking other references and
making sure he understood. It came down to timing. Corusant,
the object to transfer, and various other celestial objects
like the stars and nearby planets, had to be in exactly the
right position. The Force would then somehow align itself
throughout time, and by stepping into the spot, you could
travel.
Or so said the book. So Obi-Wan hoped. The event would happen
in one week's time, then not again until the following summer.
If he failed the first time he would have plenty of time to
study further -- if he missed the second, he would have even
more. The next 'alignment' wouldn't happen for another year,
then another two. Nothing unbearable, but all in all he hoped
for the best.
When the day came, he'd said nothing to the others. If all went
well they'd never know they'd had something unusual in their
midst. He didn't tell them he wouldn't be back -- in case he
was. He didn't tell anyone he would be, either, in case he
wasn't. Perhaps he'd just add to the long-lived tradition of
Mysterious Jedi. He grinned, and went to gather his robes.
His lightsaber was still in the pouch he wore, at his side at
all times. His robes and boots had been left in a box, until
now. No one had touched them since Suria had returned them that
first morning here. Obi-Wan smiled. Soon, hopefully, he would
don them again, and return home.
His thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance, harsh and
sudden. He dropped the clothing and ran out of his room.
Outside he found Jedi gathering, facing a small group of
strangers dressed in dark tunics and breeches, and heavy, black
boots. Obi-Wan recognised their Force signature immediately,
though he had never encountered their like before. Sith.
His hand strayed to his lightsaber, but he did not draw it. The
dark visitors would have no such weapons, so none would be
needed to defend. Obi-Wan made his way forward, past several
other Jedi. Lightsaber or no, he was among those best qualified
to fight.
Murkin, the Temple's unofficial leader, was speaking to the
visitors. "You know your kind are not allowed on holy ground,"
he said in a tight, but not quite angry, voice.
The man in the front looked surprised, but Obi-Wan felt only
satisfaction from him. "Not allowed? How can a Temple refuse
visitors?"
"Because we are not an open order," Murkin replied. "We accept
only those visitors who wish to learn -- not destroy."
"Destroy? Are you accusing us of nefarious purpose?" The man's
eyes narrowed. Obi-Wan dropped his hand to his pouch again, and
held it still. Bare-handed combat, or fighting with staves, was
all they learned, here.
And the occasional cooking pot, he noticed two of the Jedi had
thus armed themselves. Obi-Wan could feel everyone behind and
beside him readying themselves. There was no overlying
sensation of calm, as when he fought at his Master's side.
These Jedi were excited, adrenaline rising as they anticipated
the fight.
The Sith were as well. No forced control, but wildly coursing
hatred and eagerness. Bloodlust, he realised. They had come for
only one thing -- to destroy the Temple.
Obi-Wan recalled his history, and knew they would fail. He
wondered if he should tell them. He, himself, reached a state
of calm almost without thought. His reflexes sharper without
conscious will, he waited, ready.
"I am telling you, you are not welcome here." Murkin faced the
other man squarely.
"And if we do not wish to leave?"
"We will escort you to your ship -- or to pyres."
That seemed to be all they were waiting for. The Sith, as one,
spread out and faced the Jedi, pulling edged weapons from their
sleeves and belts. Obi-Wan recongised most of the swords and
knives, catalouging the threats automatically according to
their danger.
Several of the Jedi had staves in their hands now, the older
and better fighters easing ahead of the others, the youngest
and least able falling back to the very rear. It was, Obi-Wan
noted, very well rehearsed. As if done before a dozen times
over, these same people, these same circumstances. The lack of
alarm, too, suggested that these Jedi were familiar with such
intrusions. It was surprising to Obi-Wan, for whom the Sith
were little more than legend.
But he waited calmly, watching both the Sith directly opposite
him, and those down the line. It occured to him that if he did
not use his lightsaber, he had no weapon to deflect the short
sword the Sith was waving in his direction.
Bare hands, then, and he'd see how sharp his reflexes really
were.
The Sith Leader gathered himself, reaching out to the Force.
Obi-Wan felt it, clearly as sunshine. He kept his eyes on his
own opponent, and when the Sith moved, he did as well.
They met in the middle of the distance that had seperated them.
Sword flashing, Obi-Wan ducked beneath it and grabbed the arm
which held it. Snapping it down, he pushed the Sith aside. The
Sith to his immediate right was about to slice through the Jedi
facing him; Obi-Wan moved in and, with a kick, swept the Sith's
legs out from under him. He went sprawling, and the woman
sprang forward, barely taking time to nod her thanks to
Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan returned to his opponent, who was getting to his feet.
One more quick move and the Sith's knee was broken. Unable to
stand, he could barely defend against the blow which sent him
unconscious. Obi-Wan was already past, pulling back a Sith from
another Jedi, holding him back with hands and the Force as the
Jedi dealt a blow of his own.
As the battle moved on, Obi-Wan lost all conscious thought.
Reacting as the Force directed, he moved from Sith to Sith,
aiding, hindering, killing as each moment demanded. The other
Jedi he passed fought steadily, their own winning strikes
landing one after another.
Sometimes a Jedi fell, but much less often. Obi-Wan felt no
deaths among the life-forces he had grown attuned with, though
he gave it no thought at the time.
Then suddenly, he stood still. The only ones standing were
Jedi. Obi-Wan took a deep, steadying breath.
They'd won.
He looked at Murkin, even as he reached out with the Force. Not
even wounds so grevious they would need great care to heal.
And, further out, no more Sith approaching. None that he could
feel, of course. Sith were so hard to detect from any distance
at all until you found yourself facing them.
Murkin was already surveying the scene and directing some to
aid the wounded, others to restrain the Sith still living.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to ask what he could do, when Murkin
turned to him with something Obi-Wan found disturbing glowing
in his eyes.
"You fought... like that I have never seen, Master Obi."
Oh, shit, Obi-Wan thought.
"Where did you learn your skills?"
He tried to think of a way to say he could not answer. Or a way
to answer, without telling the truth.
Then he realised he was late. "Master Murkin, please say
nothing of what you've seen. Do not record it, do not pass it
on. I'm sorry, but I must--" But time was moving, so he turned,
and fled.
Force-inhanced speed carried him through the forest, aiming
directly for the site he could now see, now feel, as the place
he wanted. He hurried on, pressing himself faster and faster,
able now to feel the tiny crack forming in the Force. It was so
far away, though he knew now if he missed it, it would be there
again and he would be able to follow it through.
There would be uncomfortable questions, but he would be able to
get home.
He ran on, nearly praying in his urgency to make it. The Force
carried him, as if picking him up and turning him into the
wind. And then it was there, just ahead of him, and with that
thought he was through.
He stumbled, crashing against a wall with stunning force.
Falling to the ground, Obi-Wan saw spots before his eyes. He
lay there for a few moments, breathing deeply.
It was no wonder, really. Running full tilt into a wall would
normally do worse than make you see spots. He stayed there
until the spots faded, and he felt like he could stand without
falling back over again.
He probably needed a visit to the Healer's. He levered himself
upright, then got to his feet. The basement. Looking and
feeling just like it did when he'd left.
Obi-Wan grinned, then let out a 'yelp'. He ran for the stairs,
to go find his Master.
He nearly ran down the corriders as well, at least until his
head began complaining. Then he slowed to a fast walk, unable
to contain his excitement. He was home. He'd stopped in the
first basement to check the time and date at the terminal
there. He'd been gone barely a minute, local time. No one would
even have noticed, unless they'd been paying very close
attention.
He was barely a third of the way back to his room, when he
realised his Master was heading towards him. He grinned, and a
few moments later Qui-Gon Jinn came rushing down the hall. He
stopped when he saw Obi-Wan.
"Master! I--" Obi-Wan swallowed his words as he took in
Qui-Gon's expression.
It had been frantic worry when he'd first appeared. Obi-wan
realised his Master had been headed for the basements -- headed
to find out what had become of him. It was nice to know he'd
been paying close attention, Obi-Wan reflected.
But his expression now held none of that worry. Obi-Wan
grinned, and walked forward. "Master, you will not believe
where I've been."
Qui-Gon was still staring. Obi-Wan walked more slowly,
carefully placing one foot in front of the other. The leather
strips swayed with each step.
It rather looked as though Qui-Gon might be swaying, himself.
Who knew his Master had a leather fetish? Obi-Wan thought. 'Or
perhaps it's a belt fetish.'
Obi-Wan drew closer. 'Barely-dressed Padawan fetish?' He
smiled. "Do you want to know where I've been?"
Qui-Gon shook himself, focused on Obi-Wan's eyes for a moment,
then his gaze strayed downward. "No," he said quite clearly.
"Not unless the Temple, the Jedi, or the universe is in dire
need of my knowing. Not for at least," he focused, lost his
focus, then spoke again, "For at least the rest of the day."
"Then would you mind if I got out of the hallway? I'm not
really dressed to stay warm in these drafty halls." Obi-Wan
controlled his grin with long, Jedi-trained practise.
Qui-Gon stepped aside, and Obi-Wan moved past. His Master
followed -- at a short distance. Obi-Wan made sure his hips
swayed, as he went back to their rooms.
He winked at the few other Jedi they passed in the hallway. The
reactions ranged from polite nods, to rolled eyes, to a couple
knowing winks. A lot of open-mouthed stares as well. He didn't
get any questions, nor hear any whispers after they went past,
but Obi-Wan had a feeling by tomorrow morning it would be all
over the Temple.
It was a good thing Qui-Gon wasn't the sort to mind being
caught out drooling over his lover in public. At least, if he
hadn't minded that incident with the jelled fruit in the dining
hall, he wouldn't mind the stories that would be flying after
today.
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