Category: Drama; AU (see notes); Non-Q/O (see notes); Angst;
Drama
Rating: R
Warnings: Badnastiness. And knives.
Spoilers: JA, a little (see notes).
Summary: Obi-Wan and his Master make their first move against
complacency within the Jedi.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters; Lucas (et al) do. But
I do so love playing with them, and abusing them, and doing all
sorts of fun things to them...
Notes: This is a fairly drastic AU; while I'm using some of the
backstory of the JA novels, the JA events themselves never
happened, and TPM really didn't at all. There's some non-Q/O
action in here (Obi/Xan, mainly), and some Q/O action, and lots
and lots of evil fun. It starts a few years before TPM would
have been; I can't guarantee that all the parts will be
chronological, but those that aren't will be labeled.
Ratings, Warnings, and Summary apply to the individual parts;
Category and Spoilers are for the series as a whole.
For Trinity, because she (unintentionally <g>) brought a
plot in when Obi just wanted to play with knives.
"It is time."
Quietly: "Yes, Master."
"The Jedi have gotten complacent. They think they are the
saviors of the galaxy, yet they do not even have the strength
to save themselves. We will."
Amused: "Yes, Master."
"And by that, you mean that I am as arrogant as they? --never
mind; you would likely be right. But mine is arrogance on the
side of truth. It is time for you to go. I will wait for you."
Solemnly: "Yes, Master."
"...and good luck..."
Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through the Jedi Temple as if he belonged
there. He didn't, properly; the lightsaber at his hip was not
his own, and it had been years since he had visited, longer
still since he had been a resident. He wasn't supposed to be
there. But he walked with quiet confidence, and no one
questioned him or even looked twice.
Nothing about him was overly strange for the Temple. His hair--
black only through a temporary die, but at first glance it
looked natural-- was pulled back in a single leather-bound
braid, the hairstyle of a Knight rather than a Padawan. There
was a faint scar on one cheek, and he wore light-colored
gloves, but scars and gloves were not unusual to the Jedi. He
walked with the grace of one born to and trained in the Force.
I am not Jedi, he thought with a faint smile, but I
can pretend to be one.
He made his way unhindered to the section of the Temple with
the quarters for single, unbonded Masters. Those with a Padawan
lived elsewhere, in larger rooms that accommodated two Jedi. It
had been a long time, he knew, since Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn
lived in that elsewhere. Everybody knew that Master Jinn did
not take Padawans.
A momentary smile graced his lips. Poor, arrogant, foolish,
lonely Master Jinn.
Jinn was at the Temple that day, not out on a mission, and he
answered Obi-Wan's quiet knock. "Can I help you?" he asked,
polite and distant.
"Master Jinn?" It was a cautious question, and unnecessary, but
he asked it anyway.
"Yes," Jinn said, and that was all. He stood patiently and
waited. Patience was a trait of the Jedi, and Jinn could wait
forever if he had to.
Obi-Wan smiled. It was a warm, open smile, one that tended to
engender trust. "I have been told much about you, Master Jinn.
The way my Master speaks of you, you are the best of the Jedi."
"Hardly the best," Jinn said with a self-deprecating smile, but
his eyes reflected the warmth of acknowledged flattery. With a
graceful movement he turned to allow Obi-Wan entrance to his
quarters.
Obi-Wan entered, tugging his gloves off, waiting until the door
closed to make his next move. "I am honored," he said quietly,
"to meet you at last." Bowing low, he extended his bare hands,
palms down, in an old ritual of honor and greeting. The ritual
was rarely used in modern times, but he had faith that Jinn
would recognize it.
"The honor is mine, Knight." Jinn reached out, palms up, to
grasp the offered hands. "What can I do for..." His eyes
flickered, and he staggered slightly, blinking. "What... what
have you...done..."
Obi-Wan simply watched, a quiet smile playing over his face, as
Jinn collapsed to the floor. "Sleep well, Master Jinn." Almost
absently he peeled the skin tab off his palm, careful how he
handled it. One side had an adhesive that would bond lightly to
skin; the other side had a patch that could transfer any number
of drugs-- in this case, a high-level sedative-- through skin
contact. If he touched that patch, he, too, would succumb to
the drug; and that would be an amusement his Master might not
appreciate.
"Were there problems?"
"None that could not be overcome." Obi-Wan set the
still-unconscious Jinn down as carefully as if he were made of
Je'aji crystal, and then flung himself down on the opposite
bunk, flinging one arm over his eyes. "Eh! lekikake kimu,
Ettani." I am tired, my Master.
"Kami telakike moru si'i." You will have time to rest later.
"Did anyone see you?"
"Not that will remember me," Obi-Wan said with a smile. "It is
hardly unusual, after all, for one dressed as I to be walking
through the Temple."
"It is, though, rather unusual for one such as you to be
Force-carrying one such as he."
Obi-Wan looked over at Jinn's motionless form. "Perhaps, but
none will remember me. The Jedi, as a whole, are
remarkably...complacent, as you say. They do not expect danger
in the sacred halls of their Temple. It was easy enough to
weave certain suggestions into the Force."
There was quiet laughter. "And the drug worked as expected?"
Obi-Wan stared almost dispassionately at his palm, where the
skin tab had been. "It worked perfectly, my Master."
"Good." The ship hummed as it went into hyperspace, and shortly
thereafter, the door to the sleeping quarters hissed open.
Obi-Wan's master stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the
light from the hall. "You have done well, Obi-Wan. I am proud."
High praise, indeed. Obi-Wan smiled and stood to greet his
master. "The reward," he said softly, "is in what is to come."
"Do not be too hasty." Blue eyes met Obi-Wan's, dancing.
"Revenge is all very well, but Jinn will be useful."
"All the same, I will enjoy it."
"I have no doubt you will." Obi-Wan's master smiled, then
leaned in for a kiss, one hand sliding through Obi-Wan's hair
to the back of his head, supporting him and holding him
captive, both at once.
Obi-Wan surrendered his mouth to the questing tongue, revelling
in the feelings of warmth and need that rushed through his
body. I am yours, Master, he vowed silently, not for the
first time. Always and forever yours.
Jinn awoke slowly, trying to fight off the effects of the drug.
He had not suspected it until it was well in his bloodstream,
so his mind was still far too clouded and sluggish. I
am...where? A ship, from the feel of it. Not in atmosphere, but
that hardly limits location. More input came in from his
senses. I am bound; prisoner, then, even if I do not know to
whom. Warily, he opened his eyes.
Someone was sitting cross-legged before him, watching him with
bright green-blue eyes, playing idly with a long curved knife.
He was human, but not dressed in any uniform that Jinn was
familiar with. The clothing-- a soft black outfit, looking
flexible and loose enough to fight in, with accents of blue and
green and grey that highlighted the color in the eyes-- was not
clearly of any one culture.
"Do I know you?" Jinn said. The words came out slurred, but
hopefully understandable.
"How easily you forget," the stranger said mockingly. In one
smooth movement he stood, bowed, stretched his hands out palm
down. "It is an honor to meet you, oh Master Jinn," he said,
his voice high and childish.
"Ah. Yes." Jinn closed his eyes again. "Where am I?"
"Here."
A flush of irritation rose to Jinn's face. Carefully he reached
out to the Force for stability and strength.
"I would not do that," the stranger said, when Jinn regained
consciousness again. "Though I probably wouldn't need to tell
you that, now that you've learned. There is a collar around
your neck that will react to any attempts to touch the Force.
It will also punish you, rather severely, if you try to take it
off, so I would not recommend that, either."
Jinn opened his eyes again. The stranger, seemingly, had not
moved from his position cross-legged on the floor. "Who are
you?" he croaked.
"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi." The stranger paused, as if waiting
for something, and then sighed. "The name means nothing to you,
does it?"
"Should it?"
Obi-Wan smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. "Later. For
now..." He focused at a point beyond Jinn's head. "My Master
says I may play."
"Your Master?"
"Yes," said a new voice, directly behind Jinn. "It is amusing,
really: if you had not been quite so stubborn, Qui-Gon
my love, you would be his Master, and-- well, perhaps
none of this would have happened."
Jinn stiffened. No matter how many years passed, he would still
recognize that voice. "Xanatos."
"Ah! I see that I, at least, have remained in your memory."
Fingers stroked lightly through Jinn's hair. When he tried to
pull away, the fingers tightened into a painful fist, holding
Jinn's head immobile. "But we, my Master of old, will have our
time together. This is his."
Obi-Wan smiled and crept forward, knife held loosely in one
hand. "You belong to us now." He sliced carelessly through
Jinn's tunics, separating them without touching the skin, and
then pushed the fabric aside. "You would do well to remember
that."
"I belong to the Jedi."
Obi-Wan smoothly ran the edge of the knife down Jinn's chest,
collarbone to navel, deep enough only to hurt and draw blood.
Xanatos had made him an artist with the knife; now, here, he
had a living canvas, one of the best. "You belong to us,"
Obi-Wan said again. "We own you, we control you."
"I belong to the Jedi," Jinn said again, fighting the pain.
More marks, as the knife glided over his skin in seemingly
random patterns. "You are stubborn," Obi-Wan said, and laughed.
"I like that."
How long would it be, he wondered, before Jinn reached to the
Force for help and strength? Collar or no, he would in time,
because it was a Jedi's instinct. But he just met Obi-Wan's
gaze. "I am Jedi," he said, almost to himself. "I live for the
Force and die for the Force."
Obi-Wan made one last cut, then tilted his head, examining the
abstract curls and lines of blood. "You live for us," Obi-Wan
said, but Jinn, panting and exhausted, didn't seem to hear him.
No matter, Obi-Wan thought, smiling. He brushed a kiss
lightly across Jinn's forehead, then looked up to meet his
master's gaze. We have all the time we need. And when he is
ours...then we will move.
Archive 