Warnings: None, if you've been reading the series!
Spoilers: None
Summary: Qui-Gon is missing and it's up to Our Obi-Wan to find
him.
Feedback: You're darn tootin'!
Disclaimer: I will never, ever, ever make any Mooney Moola offa
this, as it belongs, lock, stock and barrel, to Mr. G. Lucas.
Setting...a lovely garden, full of lush greenery and delightful
flowers.
Seated beneath a large tree is The Storyteller. Facing him are
the cream of the crop, the young ones destined for Greater
Things. Their faces look up eagerly.
[What about that little Obi-guy? Can't he do nothin'?]
Excuse me? That 'little Obi-guy'? (sound of huffy robe
adjustment) That 'little Obi-guy' is of Utmost Importance to
the Mighty Qui-Gon. And, his name is Obi-Wan and
remember that...
[...sorry...gee...]
I believe I shall tell you a Story...
[Will it curl our hair?]
(frosty glare) I might...
[...]
So. I shall tell you a Story of a time when Our Obi-Wan lost
His Qui- Gon and the Great Adventures it took to find him.
Let us begin...
The matchless Obi-Wan Kenobi, Handy Apprentice to Master
Qui-Gon Jinn, stood before the damned Jedi Council, perky chin
lifted, eyes keen and razorsharp. Robe draped fetchingly along
his slender body.
He was alone. He was bereft. He'd had a really bad day.
Around him, Council members listened with undivided attention,
their orbs riveted to the mouth speaking words of ill news,
words that would soon bring the Jedi Order almost to it's
knees. Yes.
"This Council is a Sham!" Padawan Kenobi Pointed a rigid finger
to High Heaven.
Gasp!
"You're all a bunch of Boobies!" Padawan Kenobi Pointed that
rigid finger more like straight down.
Gasp, gasp!
"In my entire time at this Terrible Temple, I have not
once seen any of you out of those comfy chairs!" His
strapping body fearless, yet succulent, with wrath, Padawan
Kenobi Pointed ten rigid fingers in a whirl that took in the
entire room.
Rolling eyes! Flaring terror!
Obi-Wan balled his pretty fists, cartwheeled his arms and
practically yelled, "My Master, the Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn, is
lost in the Cosmos and you don't even have legs that work!"
The Council felt mummification approaching.
As suddenly as it had come, the charming fit passed, leaving a
lightly flushed young Padawan, eyes filled with anguish, facing
a Mentally Challenged Council.
His voice subdued, the Delicate Obi-Wan spoke.
"I can see that it is up to me. To go it alone."
Little Green Yoda's ears pricked up. What was that? Music?
"To seek out my Master and avoid Dying in the Process."
Heads were turning. What were trumpets and cymbols doing in
this Chamber, eh?
"To Boldly Go where no Padawan has Gone Before!"
The sudden blare of horns and tympani proved that, yes
indeed, our silly old Council could get out of
their comfy chairs.
And then...Silence. The sudden kind.
Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Handy Apprentice, shone before them, his
body outlined in a silvery blue glow. His stance was firm, yet
lusty. The Council stood erect on their trembling little legs
and watched as he gathered his robe with one hand and, with the
other held forward to lead the way, strode poignantly from the
room.
The Shell-Shocked Jedi Council decided they could get back in
their comfy chairs a little bit later.
As the Anguished Padawan packed his bag, he felt a small, hot
tear slide down one cheek. No need for Big Fird's Super Grip
Lube this trip. Slinging the pack over one shoulder, he
took one last look around their quarters: cozy breakfast nook
(one more tear slid down, tickling the tiny hairs on his downy
cheek), well-used couch (lips compressed to hold in the quiet
sob), bedroom doorway...
(Nooooooo! My Qui-Gon, where are you!)
His first stop was the Jedi Space Ship Hanger, home to some of
the most advanced technology in the galaxy. Stepping into the
noise and bustle, Obi-Wan sought out the Hanger Boss.
Ah...there he was, jump- starting a Model P Bantha-Nosed
Hopper.
"Dash! I need your help."
The Hanger Boss turned, Bok wrench in one hand, a Hot-Jump Plug
in the other.
"Sure, sure...uh...Master Obi...sure...uh...um...what...what,
eh...what ya need?"
"My Master, the Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn, took off from here
sometime in the last two days. I need..." Here, the slender
young Jedi took a deep breath. "...I need to find out where he
went."
Dash blinked. Slowly.
"Well. Well...um...let's see." Scratch, scratch. "Master
Qui-Gon Jinn?" Scratch. Sniff. "Yeah...yeah. I kinda remember,
he come through here...ummm...yeah." Sniff. Sniff. "Not sure
whure he...uh...went, though."
Good ol' Dash looked up and saw the steely glint in those
blue-green eyes. Yeah.
"Tell ya what...uh...Master Obi...um...I'll ast Brrst.
He's..ummm...he's got..." Scratch, scratch. "...um...a couple a
brains."
Padawan Kenobi slowly unclenched both fists and released a
Snort into the Force.
Dash turned to a tall, spindly being in baggy coveralls and
scorched fur.
A series of non-descript noises issued from Brrst's orifice. As
the spit settled, Dash slow-motioned back to Master Obi, only
to find him gone.
"Master Obi?...uh...where'd you...?"
Whooom! A Single Engine Jedi Sport Coupe whizzed over Dash's
head, neatly rearranging his page boy.
Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Handy Apprentice, was on his way.
First clue. Ord Nidget. A trace of his Master. Li Bouticke di
Whispy. Unknown item sold to a "...yeth, good thir, a weally
tawl beardy man. Quite...quite nice...Yeth, I doo believe he
thed thomething about heading..."
Padawan Kenobi strode back to the Space Port, full of hope and
joy, so caught up in the moment that the spickety,
multi-jointed shape following him never snagged his attention.
Second clue. Durdle Prime. Yo Shoppa de Yo Spirkling Weins.
Item of unknown year sold to "...ah, hahaha...woo!...yes,
hahaha...big shappy with hairys...haha, woo!...hairys on his
chinny...hahaha!...Nope, no ideeeeeaaa where he went...woops!
hahaha!..."
Padawan Kenobi ran back to the Space Port, wings on his
fingers, wings on his toes. He felt just a touch of his Master.
That way...
And the spickety presence? Yes, still following...
Third clue. Hashapa. Dibbee's Importium of Fine Baubles and
Beads. Item of unknown caret sold to "...why yuss, yung zir, a
quet tawl gennelmun wez heer, naht zo lung ehgo...Wheyre?...Ay
dew net kneow..."
But there it was, fainter than faint, the trail...
Padawan Kenobi dashed out of the Importium...straight into a
Durasteel cage...
Ruckleput skittled around the little Jedi on his stick-thin
legs, hissing and cackling. His five-jointed fingers waved
gently in the air, just inches away from Obi-Wan's skin. His
beaky mouth spit high- pitched squeaks in Obi-Wan's face.
"Yess, yess, yess...now I shall win, win, win!...Never, never,
never have I won the Royal Scavenger Hunt...but now, now,
now!...yesssss...
Ruckleput waved to his henchmen. "Bring the Tiny
Sack...yessss..." He unlocked the cage.
The henchmen stayed where they were, looking at each other with
rolling eyes.
"Uh, Boss. That's a Jedi."
"Yesss, yesss..."
"You know what one of those can do?"
"Yesss...it can get me the Keeza Double Peddle Silver Trophy,
it can...yesss..."
"Uh, Boss. I don't think..."
Obi-Wan's robe twitched.
Mmwahhhmmm...Without moving his eyes, he looked around the
room, face bathed in saber-light. His soft voice crisped every
hair in the room.
"Did no one ever tell you not to mess with an
EmotionalAngst!Jedi?"
Ruckleput now made one last little mistake. He decided to swat
the Bad Jedi.
Every bald body gulped.
Obi-Wan's voice scorched the air. His smile fanned the flames.
"Is there a medic in the house?" And he moved.
Kkshshsh!...thud...
Padawan Kenobi stood over the crackling remains of Ruckleput.
"Please don't bother me again." He zzzzpt his saber,
reholstered, and tossed a coin to the nearest zombie as he
walked away.
"Sorry about the mess."
It was a sad Padawan that walked the dark corridors of the Jedi
Temple, eyes haunted, skin pale, lips all a'tremble. His
Master, his Mighty (sigh) Qui-Gon, was gone. And tomorrow was
not another day. He slogged his lonely way to their
quarters, opened the door and shut it before letting the tender
tears flow.
But Hark! What light from yonder boudoir breaks?
The Handy Apprentice tippy-toed across the floor to peer in at
the doorway where Paradise once ruled. And saw...
The young Padawan leaned against the doorframe and sank to the
floor, heart all a'flutter. There, sitting on the edge of the
bed, was the Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn. Flushed. Smiling.
Clothing-deprived. As he held a big Happy Anniversary banner
high in both hands, he waved coyly at Obi-Wan, that special
wave that meant 'come on in and...sit down'.
Obi-Wan crawled slowly toward his Master, occasionally losing a
piece of clothing on the way. At journey's end, he wound both
arms around Qui-Gon's legs and rested his weary head on those
beautiful knees.
"Master."
"Yes, my Padawan."
"I never realized how big the Galaxy is."
"Well, my Obi-Wan. I've always known that it's just big enough
for two."
And Obi-Wan waved back.
Oh, Sith.
[What?]
What? Oh. Right. Go away.
[Wait! How could the Mighty Qui-Gon Jinn wave if he was
holding...]
That's all, young ones. Go. Now.
[Please? Come back?]
I don't know. Maybe. Shoo.
And the Storyteller rose slowly to his feet, turned and wobbled
away. That new path he made through the Gorsa bush would prove
quite useful, as it turned out.
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