| Author |
Topic:
Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-6 -- COMPLETE: 8-Jan-2006
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ardavenport
Registered:
Dec '04
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Date Posted:
12/16/05 4:54pm
Subject:
Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-6 -- COMPLETE: 8-Jan-2006
- Date Edited:
6/3/06 4:26pm (8 edits total)
Edited By:
ardavenport
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Title: Mercy Day
Author: ardavenport (aka Ani-Chay Pinn, aka Anne Davenport)
Timeframe: pre-Episode I
Genre: adventure
Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi
Keywords Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, JA, BfTS
Summary: Our Jedi are stuck with a prisoner on ice for a holiday
Notes: also posted on The Jedi Assembly fan fiction forum. This one’s for the holidays.
And typo is my middle name, with missing words and errors that spell checkers don’t catch being my speciality – if you see any, just post a reply with the what and where and I will hunt them down and kill them.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Lucas; I’m just playing in the SW sandbox
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“We would prefer a transport today.” Qui-Gon Jinn stated, his breath puffing white clouds in the chill air.
“Can’t” The space pilot wiped her hands off on a large greasy rag, black grime still filled in the crevices in her tough, pebbly skin. Qui-Gon sighed. It was the last ship in the space port with anyone around. Everything else was gone or shut down. “Port control’s down for the holiday already. And we’re staying for it anyway.” Qui-Gon looked surprised.
“It isn’t until tomorrow.”
The pilot shrugged her broad shoulders and tossed the rag on a work bench next to the wall of the docking bay. “People like to start early.”
“We have a prisoner.” Now the pilot looked surprised. Her co-pilot, a tall, skinny youth with a more yellowish tinge to his green hide lifted his head from the workbench and looked at them as well, his thin tail switching with curiosity. Beyond Qui-Gon, his young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, waited, seated on an anti-grav truck. The pilot walked over and looked at the enormous block of ice on the flatbed. Its edges were smooth as if they’d been melted and re-frozen, its interior clouded. Inside was a perfectly preserved humanoid. He was fully clothed in a cold survival suit and superficially male, its tough, leathery skin gone pale gray. Some tubes and cables connected the being to equipment that the pilot didn’t recognize, but a few indicator lights glowed yellow and blue inside the ice. A life sign sensor resting on top of the block displayed affirmative squiggles and lines and text.
“Well, he’s not going anywhere.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Obi-Wan followed his master on the narrow path. All the transports had been engaged, so they had to walk to their destination by a path of rough, worn ice roughened with sand for traction, but kept wary of slippery patches. The air was cool and fresh, well below the freezing point of water as it always was on this frozen world, Bovad. The path was cut deep in the ice pack and all he could see ahead was the back of his master’s dark brown hood and robe. Ahead of him were the pilot and co-pilot, Lazmat Urm and her nephew Edi Urm. The colony city, Nebo-Sun, had limited accommodations for stranded travelers and what they had were already engaged. But apparently a tradition of the holiday was that ‘No one goes wanting,’ according to Captain Urm. So, they followed the two spacefarers to the clan compound where they were staying.
It had taken them two hours to first find the local sheriff and then make arrangements for their prisoner, Nule Radeel. He’d used an ingenious way to hide. He’d covered his tracks well, and no lifesign sensor would have picked his frozen body out in the middle of the Bovadi tundra. And after enough time had passed his droid would have revived him from stasis to escape justice. But the Force flowed from all life, and with it, plus a few physical clues, they’d found his hideout. Then the weakness in his scheme had worked for them; once discovered, he was ridiculously easy to capture.
They continued down the deep snow path in silence. They passed a few faint speeder and generator sounds on the way, but were otherwise isolated in a continuous canyon of ice and snow. Obi-Wan might have wondered if the Urms had gotten lost, but there had been no branching paths for a kilometer. Both Jedi kept their robes closed about them, their hoods on against the chill. They wore gloves from the cold weather gear they’d used on the tundra and now stowed in their packs. The Urms were wrapped in insulated, hooded body suits, their tails tucked away into pant legs. The Urms were Zolets, a species very similar to the Zonim colonists on Bovad and apparently they had some distant relations in the clan they were staying with. They shared the same general bipedal type with long bodies and short legs and arms. While their eyes and wide mouths were in approximately the same place as most Humanoids, their small, pointed ears were fairly high, back on their heads and their faces sloped into forward snouts, their nostrils concealed under its bulge. The major differences between the two species seemed to be that Zolets had mostly green skin tones compared to the Zonim’s more blue hues and Zonims had no tails.
One more turn and the path finally opened out into a huge snow field ringed with the short, craggy trees native to Bovad. Crowds of people ran about sliding on hills, throwing snowballs, carving elaborate snow sculptures. Beyond the field lay the cluster of mismatched buildings of the clan compound. Edi perked up immediately, scanning the landscape for familiar faces. With a chuckle his aunt sent him scampering off.
“We just have to find the Tilplens, tell them they’ve got two more,” Lazmat assured them. She led them along the walkway that curved around the edge of the open field. It was cleared of snow and ice and their boots crunched on its loose pebbles, rough but good footing in a world of mostly white, slippery ground. They passed several clumps of people, either watching the games in the field or taking warm food and drink from white servitor droids sheltered under yellow and red tents. Finally, when they’d circled around nearly to the compound itself Lazmat recognized a tall Zonim in long, green robes.
“Papa-High!” Lazmat waved and the other turned his small, blue eyes toward them.
“Hah! Urm, you get that ship of yours locked down finally?” He waved them over. Papa-High Tilplens was of average height for a Zonim, a little shorter than Obi-Wan.
“It’s all tucked in. Hey, I’ve got a couple of stragglers from the spaceport. Thought you could take them in for Gyseer.” Lazmat moved closer and spoke in a low tone that he might have assumed that his two guests couldn’t hear, “We’re taking them to Ildan Colony the day after and they’re willing to pay in full in advance.” Papa-High Tilplens nodded.
“Of course. Everyone’s welcome for Gyseer. You hardly need to ask.” He sized up the two newcomers and rubbed his dark, blue-green chin. “There will be plenty of your type for the Gyseer-Eve feast tonight anyway. And we can work out what to do with the droids for tomorrow. Otherwise you can stay with Lazmat and Edi. There’s plenty of room.” He motioned them toward the compound.
They went together through multiple doors and a wide entryway. Huge plasti-steel columns ringed the cream and gray patterned floor of the entrance hall. Colorful banners hung between the column over tables set with candles and spinning, shiny sculptures and food around which people gathered and chatted.
“Mama-Low!” A very tall, thin older Zonim broke off from her group and came to them. She wore a long, pink dress with yellow underdress and scarf tied about her head, pale blue with age and a few wrinkles. “Lazmat’s brought a couple of his fares for the Gyseer.”
“Oh, you two got stuck at the spaceport, eh?”
Qui-Gon took off the hood of his robe and nodded his head to her. “It would seem so.” He introduced himself and Obi-Wan who slid his hood back of his head as well.
“We’ve got to get some off worlders to staff that spaceport during Gyseer,” she told Papa-High.
“Why are you telling me?” he pressed his hand to his chest in innocence.
“You’re in the Assembly, remember?”
“Mmm. Well I can bring it up.”
Mama-Low waved her hand. “That’s what you always say.” She turned back to her new guests. “Well, in the meantime, I think we can put you up with Lazmat here. You’ve got Edi with you, right?”
“Of course,” the space pilot affirmed. “He’s just gone off with another bunch of kids. Probably won’t find him again til dinner.”
Lazmat and Mama-Low apparently had known Edi since he was “a hatchling” and they reminisced a bit over some of his more naive attempts at portraying himself as a seasoned space traveler. Them Mam-Low sent Lazmat and Papa-High off to find other members of the clan.
She appraised the two Human guests and summoned a droid to take Qui-Gon and Obi-Wans’ packs and they left the entrance hall. They easily kept pace with her quick steps. The older one who was very tall, hardly needed to hurry, with his long legs to carry him. The younger one did hurry; Mama-Low thought that he looked younger than Edi Urm, possibly fifteen or sixteen.
She escorted them through the wide and narrow passages of the compound, past rooms and corridors, white light streaming in through the windows high up on the walls. They passed groups of Zonim who greeted Mama-Low warmly and they paused a few times to exchange information about that night’s dinner and the holiday the next day. They finally ascended some stairs to an upper level.
“Now, this one is a little small.” She took them down a narrow hallway to a single-room lavatory with a standing sink, disposal and raised bathing tub. “But I’m pretty sure it’ll work with your species. You use the same things Twi’leks use, right?” Qui-Gon nodded. “Lazmat and Edi will use the closer one around the corner anyway. Oh...” She paused, her small, round, green eyes resting on the tops of their heads. Zonims and Zolets had no hair. “Oh, I’m sure the droids can take care of it.”
She led them back down the hall to a door at the top of the stairs. The droid, a sturdy gray domestic protocol model, waited for them there with the packs. Mama-Low opened the door and entered.
It was a corner room with large, square windows on the two walls facing out toward the tundra. Flat, bright sunlight shone in a bare room with pale blue walls and a dark gray floor. There was one table by the door and a huge, square sleeping platform piled high with rugs, plush blankets and pillows. There was hardly room for anything else. The droid laid their packs on the table and backed out of the room.
“Ah,” Mama-Low exclaimed, pulling a basket out from under the table. “You should put your clothes here for Zee-Vee-Twelve here to pick up.” The droid silently acknowledged the instruction with a nod of its Zonim-styled head. “She’ll bring it back early so, we can have everything clean for tomorrow. The droid caller is just there by the door when you’re ready.” Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan thanked her for their hospitality and Mama-Low beamed.
“Well, the transports to the city leave in a couple of hours for the big dinner. So, I’ll just leave you two to freshen up. Just call if you need anything.” Mama-Low waved to them as she left, taking the droid with her. Qui-Gon looked mildly after her as she retreated down the stairs. Then he glanced at his Padawan. And then he went down the hall to the lavatory. Obi-Wan waited for his turn.
“This room will be drafty at night,” Qui-Gon observed when they returned to their room. Obi-Wan prodded the pile of pillows, rugs and comforters on the sleeping platform. They knew that Zonim or Zolets commonly slept as many as six to a bed, so they would abide by the local customs. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had shared close quarters with far more troublesome companions than the pilot and her nephew, including each other. But the Jedi had traveled together for long enough to be quite aware of each other’s annoying habits and how to ignore them. Obi-Wan lifted a thick, woven rug, dislodging a few pillows, while Qui-Gon gazed out at the bright tundra through the windows. This would simply be a similar challenge.
* * * * * * *
“Ho! Mama-Low!” A short, pale green Zonim with a rounded face called from a room full of others enjoying card game. He rushed after her, matching Mama-Low Tilplens’s longer stride.
“Did you lose our new guests?”
“I showed them their room and told them where to go for dinner. They don’t need me fussing over them.” She waved the matter off.
“Um, you did notice that they were Jedi?” the other noted dramatically.
“Yes, Pimas, I did saw the lightsabers,” she replied firmly. “Even more reason to expect that they can manage on their own.” They entered a kitchen area where she accepted a small data screen from the chief droid before she instructed it to account for two Human guests for the Gyseer feast.
“And you wouldn’t know why are there?” Pimas persisted as they continued through a the huge dining area.
“They’re fares for Lazmat after Gyseer. And I’m sure it isn’t anybody else’s business what they’re up to.”
Pimas accepted her advice as they turned a corner. “I suppose you’re right. But it seems a bit odd to me to just cut them loose.”
“I’m not ‘cutting them loose’, they’re sharing with Lazmat and Edi.”
Pimas’s mouth opened in surprise. “Oh that will be great when Edi cuddles up to them in his sleep,” he exclaimed with a touch of sarcasm. “They’re as hot-blooded as any of the humanoids we’ve got in the city. You can practically see their body glow in daylight.”
“Pimas, they’ve probably been to a hundred times more worlds than you and I combined. I think they can work things out for themselves, including Edi. But since you seem so concerned,” she stopped, raising her hand, “you are free to offer yourself as their host and escort. If you can manage to think of something to say to them.” Mama-Low found Pimas to be a bit of a gossip and busybody, but even with those faults was a good host and an excellent conversationalist.
“I’ll be happy to,” he offered gallantly.
--- tbc ---
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ardavenport
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Dec '04
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Date Posted:
12/28/05 6:08pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
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I am actually editing and upping this, with permission, in more managable installments than the huge block o' text that I originally tried. 
There is more. 
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Links to all fics -- http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25405090&brd=10304&start=26223917 The Heart of the Jedi -- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26013327 ---- Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, JA and everything you wanted to know about lightsabers
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kenobiwanobi
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Jun '05
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Date Posted:
12/28/05 6:53pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
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Glad to here that there is more. Great job.
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Better to die on your feet than live on your knees-Dolores Ibarruri
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Healer_Leona
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Jul '00
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Date Posted:
12/28/05 6:58pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
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I love the bits of detail, right from the first post his breath puffing white clouds in the chill air.
, that just really stuck out wonderfully.
A drafty room and a planet where they sleep so many to a bed?? Then I suppose I can sacrifice my comfort and offer to help keep them warm.... 
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Still crazy after all these years.
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dianethx
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Mar '02
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Date Posted:
12/29/05 4:43am
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
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I also liked the details of how cold it was and how their prisoner was so easy to catch...LOL. That might have worked with non-Jedi. Loved the Papa-high and Mama-low. Indications of their status?
Good job. Looking forward to seeing where you go with this.
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VaderLVR64
Title: Fan Fic Manager in Combat Boots
Registered:
Feb '04
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Date Posted:
12/29/05 6:43am
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
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What a wonderful start!  I'll definitely be looking for updates on this one. Amazing use of detail, it really brought the scene to life!
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ardavenport
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Dec '04
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Date Posted:
12/30/05 1:56pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1
- Date Edited:
12/30/05 2:00pm (2 edits total)
Edited By:
ardavenport
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kenobiwanobi: Glad to here that there is more. Great job.
Oh, yes, definitely there's more. It's just a matter of when to post.
Healer_Leona: A drafty room and a planet where they sleep so many to a bed?? Then I suppose I can sacrifice my comfort and offer to help keep them warm....
Suggling up to Jedi...such a hardship. It's just not any fun unless you inconvenience them. 
dianethx: I also liked the details of how cold it was and how their prisoner was so easy to catch...LOL. That might have worked with non-Jedi. Loved the Papa-high and Mama-low. Indications of their status?
Yes, it's more or less an indicator of status. Not absolute ruler, just organizers in charge.
VaderLVR64: What a wonderful start! I'll definitely be looking for updates on this one. Amazing use of detail, it really brought the scene to life!
I like detail. It makes the story more real when I write it and I'm so glad so many noticed.
Now for the next bit...
====================================================== part 2 ===
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan made their way across an open field in the midst of the jumble of compound buildings. They still had some time before people began gathering for dinner, so they enjoyed a pleasant stroll on the grounds. Obi-Wan breathed in the cold air. It smelled fresh and....alive. He didn’t quite know what to make of this impression. But it was a living world with animals and predators that the Jedi had needed to be wary of when they had gone into the wastelands after their fugitive. Bovad was far from desolate. But it had no seasons to alter its endless winter.
Obi-Wan suddenly stepped aside; at the same time Qui-Gon stopped, his master’s hand going up and catching the snowball that would have hit his shoulder. A second snowball flew past, just missing Obi-Wan’s head. They both turned to their left.
Two Zonim children, nearly danced with anticipation, a pile of fat snowballs between them. Obi-Wan looked at his master who dropped the snowball he’d caught and raised both hands to decline the offer. They’d seen the game played as they walked about the field. It was just a variant of many similar such children’s games played on many worlds. Players on either side of a line scored points by either hitting their opponents or forcing them to step out of their lane. This version was played by pairs of players with snowballs in marked out lanes in the snow. The snowballs were thrown simultaneously, first by one team, then the other, so the pair dodging the snowballs couldn’t be sure of who they were aimed at.
The Jedi had seen the piled snowballs and empty lanes and had been crossing them to get to another walkway. Apparently simply entering the field of play was enough to initiate a challenge. The two children wore snow suits, one brown, the other purple, and they ignored Qui-Gon’s gestures and picked up more snowballs from their pile, inviting the Jedi to take their turn. A large group of children of varying ages watched from behind their lane.
Obi-Wan grinned as he saw his master sigh. They looked down at prymid of snowballs in their lane and each picked one. The Jedi exchanged a look, turned and threw.
The two children nearly ran into each other trying to duck. Each succeeded in dodging the snowball aimed at them, but were caught by the other one.
‘Whoa!” They took their loss with great excitement, sprang up and before the Jedi could politely move on, two more, slightly older children took their place. A line was forming among the crowd.
In every bout the children missed them, but the Jedi would hit both their opponents, except for one young boy who threw himself under Qui-Gon’s snowball and out of his lane, which still counted as a score for the Jedi. Obi-Wan enjoyed the activity and even Qui-Gon looked amused after the first few matches. The children threw their snowballs and took their hits with equal enthusiasm. No one seemed to be keeping score.
Then two older teenagers, older than Obi-Wan, took their turn. They bent over the now much smaller pile of snowballs and threw.
Obi-Wan ducked, his hand shot out and he caught this one. It made a firm smack in his gloved palm. He straightened and looked down at it and then at the one that Qui-Gon now held up.
These snowballs had not come from the pile. They were hard and heavy and icy, and from the expression on the other children’s faces as they saw them, clearly against the rules. Qui-Gon cooly looked at the teenagers, who must have been hiding the ice balls in their pockets.
Everyone tensed.
Then Qui-Gon’s expression lightened as he glanced to his left, drawing everyone else’s attention. A small child, no more than two or three years old and well bundled up against the cold, had waddled out from the crowd of children and into the field of play. All eyes followed her progress (it was impossible to tell what gender she was by sight, but Qui-Gon sensed that she was female). She carried an enormous, fluffy snowball, half as wide as she was.
Completely ignoring the lanes, she happily made steady progress, crossing through the teenagers’ area and then over to the Jedi. With a wide, open-mouthed grin on her dark, blue-green face, she looked up at Qui-Gon as she approached, having settled on him as her target. Coming right up to him she stopped and plopped her snowball right on the end of his boot. Then she looked up, still grinning, for approval.
“Well, I see I am defeated,” Qui-Gon declared mildly. The teenagers had disappeared from the lane. The crowd of children started to disperse.
The toddler squealed with delight and then lifted her arms up in the universally understood pick-me-up gesture of all bipedal two-year olds.
“Ho!” A cheerful man came half running toward them. He wore a long, fuzzy blue coat and matching cap tied closely over his hairless, green head. Distracted, the child turned and he scooped her up. “You shameless thing.” He tickled her and she squealed with delight and hugged him. The newcomer introduced himself as Pimas, a fourth cousin to the Tilplens. The Jedi bowed in greeting and he offered to show them around. After he found an older sibling to take the child, he led them around the compound.
Pimas told them about the colony and the clans as they walked about the grounds. He put a lot of flair into his anecdotes about the family and residents; he prided himself on being able to make any story good. The sun went down and a few small, exterior lights came on. Pimas privately berated himself for not thinking to bring a daylight lantern so he spoke loudly and kept to only wide and unobstructed paths. Humanoids generally had poor heat-sight, if any, and since the Tilplens Compound had no off-worlder residents, it wasn’t lit for them.
His worst fears were confirmed when the call chime sounded to announce the transports to dinner and the last of the day-glow faded from the sky. Pimas turned to face his guests to show them the quickest way and from their unfocused gazes he could tell that they were as good as blind. They had no heat-sight at all and couldn’t possibly tell which way he was pointing. But their higher body temperatures made their faces shine out like beacons in the cold around them.
And yet...Qui-Gon Jinn nodded back to him and he and Obi-Wan Kenobi both proceeded that way. Did Jedi have other ways of seeing? He stayed close, but they never missed a step all the way to the transport platforms.
Obi-Wan looked at the small fleet of closed-cabin hover cars as they approached. Their orange and green lights blinked in the gloom and their engines hummed amidst the sounds of voices and people boarding. They got in line with Pimas and soon were seated with more than twenty others. As soon as the cabin was full it left for one of the city centers of Nebo-Sun.
It wasn’t very far to Nebo-Sun, but because every other transport in that part of the city was going the same way the traffic slowed them down. There was plenty of time for Pimas to tell them more about the holiday. Bovad’s ‘year’ was a snowy constant, with no yearly seasons. The planet had no rotation tilt and circular orbit, so the holiday, Gyseer, simply came every two-hundred days on the calendar. The essence of it was a day of cleaning out the clan home of old things and of ordering personal lives with a solemn ritual called the Gyseer, which literally meant ‘mercy’. Any member of the gathering could go to any other member and confess anything. They may or may not ask for something as well. The person receiving the petition did not need to agree or grant any favors, but they were required to be utterly dispassionate about it and to never, ever hold it against the person who had come to them for Gyseer.
According to Pimas, most of the petitions ran from the trivial confessions of a child for stealing up to admissions of infidelity and requests for divorce. Pimas was telling a few tales about some more amusing requests (there were no rules against gossiping about Gyseer afterwards) when their car arrived and they disembarked.
They went with the crowds into the huge commerce dome of the city. Nebo-Sun had several commerce domes, but this was the one that the Tilplens clan patronized and where the Gyseer-eve feast would be held. Multiple species lived closer to the city, so the area was well lit for all with bright, overhead lanterns. The interior spaces were enclosed and climate controlled. They all loosened their outer robes and the Jedi put their gloves away. People were gathering towards the area where they would be seated and Pimas guided them to where the Human guests would be. For a large setting it was always easiest to separate the species to prevent someone from getting the wrong (and possibly poisonous) dish.
Pimas hesitated. Should he just leave them? He’d told them that after dinner they were free to enjoy any of the entertainments or take one of the transports back to the compound. They’d been non-committal about either choice. Pimas wanted to enjoy his dinner and have some fun with friends and he didn’t care for the idea of having to go find these two again in the crowd after he ate. Mama-Low had been right; they were pretty independent all by themselves. And the tall one had been responding less and less to any of his stories, giving Pimas the impression that he was losing interest, but was just being polite about it.
Qui-Gon Jinn freed Pimas from the obligation when he told him that they looked forward to seeing him back at the compound. Pimas wished them a good feast and hurried off.
Obi-Wan followed his master into the room of milling people. Most were Humans or similar species with a few Zonim hosts scattered in the crowd. Droids placed settings and appetizers onto the long tables that filled most of the large hall. Glittering decorations and streamers hung from the high ceilings above. Servitor droids were already directing people to seats. Obi-Wan ducked behind Qui-Gon as a droid whizzed past with a very large serving tray.
“You don’t need to get behind me to find your way this time, Obi-Wan,” his master said while still scanning the activity in the room.
Obi-Wan cringed. Of course, Qui-Gon had noticed. When they’d been walking on the Tilplens’ grounds Obi-Wan had relied on Qui-Gon’s presence to find his way. As night set in Obi-Wan had called on the Force to not trip and stay with Qui-Gon and Pimas. But his own senses, sight and sound, sometimes seemed to contradict what he felt through the Force. All his senses should have been working in concert, but once he got distracted, it was just an opening for doubt and a missed step. But he’d been absolutely sure about Qui-Gon, his presence and where he was, so he’d stayed close all the way to the transport.
“I’m sorry, Master,” he apologized. “I should have done better.”
“Yes, you should.” Qui-Gon accepted, looking down at him. There was no lecture in his master’s voice, in fact, he looked amused.
“You will do better later, I think,” Qui-Gon assured him. They got into one of many lines to be seated. A slender, silver droid with a holiday garland around its head seated them in the middle of one long, narrow table that faced another one with it’s own row of diners. A gap between the tables allowed the droids to serve from the middle. The woman seated next to him passed Qui-Gon a bowl of nuts. He sampled a few before passing it on to Obi-Wan. They were crunchy and salty but with a flavor undistinguishable from many other nuts in the galaxy. The woman introduced herself as Azlu Bering and her husband, Yude Tal and their son beyond them, Mularin. They owned a shop in the city. On the other side of Obi-Wan was an older man who seemed to only be interested in speaking loudly with the even older man on the other side of him.
A persistent giggling caught Qui-Gon’s attention. He suddenly regretted where they were sitting, but the room was already nearly full and it would be difficult to find two empty places together. Seated at the table across from them was a row young girls, whispering and pointing. And they were looking at Obi-Wan like he was going to be the dessert. His apprentice did his best to not show the tension and discomfort that Qui-Gon sensed in him. Well, Qui-Gon reflected, there were worse hazards for a Jedi.
--- tbc ---
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Links to all fics -- http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25405090&brd=10304&start=26223917 The Heart of the Jedi -- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26013327 ---- Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, JA and everything you wanted to know about lightsabers
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ardavenport
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Date Posted:
1/1/06 12:46pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-2 -- Update: 30-Dec-2005
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Hmmmm, seems like a good day to add a little more...
===================================================== part 3 ===
At one end of the room a large, rotund, blue-haired woman in an enormous floral dress stood on a table and banged two big metal cups together for silence. As co-mayor of Nebo-Sun she wished everyone a Happy Gyseer. The crowd enthusiastically replied. She gave a short and civic minded speech about how everyone would be inspired to volunteer more time to the city’s library and museums after they had unburdened themselves tomorrow. The row of Obi-Wan’s admirers at the table opposite theirs briefly directed some unflattering gestures and whispering toward the co-mayor.
As soon as the woman started to climb down from her impromptu podium the droids began moving up and down the tables with plates of salad and cups of water and drinks.
The food was excellent, savory and well prepared, but the meal progressed through soup and entree more swiftly than Qui-Gon preferred to eat. The droids snatched up any empty dishes or utensils as soon as they were laid down. They seemed to be running on their own tight schedule. Both Jedi kept their spoons firmly in hand after the salad course was whisked away. If anyone lingered over their meal the droids would begin to hover in that area politely inquiring if the diner needed anything. Obi-Wan had no trouble keeping up, especially since the men next to him stubbornly refused to notice any of his attempts at conversation.
Qui-Gon had to agree with Azlu and Yude next to him. The table arrangements were not very good for social occasions. She laughed when Qui-Gon suggested that the droids might have designed them since everything was laid out for serving and eating and very little else.
Once the main course was finished people began to get up and leave. After dinner refreshments were to be served in the courtyards and indoor garden areas where the evening entertainments would be. The girls across the table seemed to linger, glancing their way, but they had fleeting patience and went off in a flurry of capes and skirts. The family next to them invited the Jedi to come to the holo-entertainment that their son was looking forward to, but Qui-Gon politely declined, saying that they preferred to stroll about after eating. Their son exchanged a few words with Obi-Wan, apparently about the girls across the table from them. He was a plain, square-faced young man with short hair and heavy, dark eyebrows and not much older than Obi-Wan. The girls hadn’t paid him any attention at all, except for a few critical sneers. Whatever he said, Obi-Wan seemed to appreciate it and they waved as they parted.
They entered the public courtyards and corridors with the milling crowd. Night showed through the clear panes above the sparkling lights and decorations. There seemed to be no specific theme to the ornaments other than bright, shiny, cheerful colors and shapes. After-dinner refreshments had been laid out on a cluster of central tables where people gathered. Many were Zonims from the colony with a few Humans, Zolets and other species mixed in. Qui-Gon took some hot, red tea which the serving droid insisted on garnishing with a glittery slice of fruit and a flower. Obi-Wan took tea and a small plate of tiny puff pastries. There were no empty tables in the large courtyard and they wandered through the crowd and recognized no one from the Tilplens Compound. Only pedestrian traffic seemed to be allowed in the enclosed commerce area of the city with an occasional anti-grav lift cart going by.
Obi-Wan enjoyed looking at the activity, the people, but he wondered why Qui-Gon had stayed. His master was not in the least bit interested in parties. Or desserts; Obi-Wan ate another pastry, enjoying the sweet creamy filling. He knew that Qui-Gon intended for him to “do better” at finding his way. Was this part of that lesson? Obi-Wan had paid very close attention to where they were, where they’d come from, the crowds, the exits. He did not intend to falter again, certainly not when he see where he was going. And even without his earlier shortcoming, he knew that he was expected to be aware of his surroundings anyway.
Motion, snatches of conversation, perky pets, laughter, smells, bright clothes – the Force flowed like a noisy brook through a jovial crowd like this. He sensed the life essence through even the indoor plants and some small, burrowing creatures that probably weren’t supposed to be with them in their pots. A Jedi master like Qui-Gon Jinn knew these things without effort, but Obi-Wan still had to remind himself to quiet his thoughts and open his mind to it.
A Jedi is, at all times, a Jedi, he reminded himself. And Padawans learned by doing.
They had drunk half their tea and Obi-Wan had eaten all of his pastries before they found a small, high table in a cozy courtyard. A blaring, thumping band played dance music in a darkened club nearby. They put their cups and napkins on the table and Qui-Gon pulled out one of the tall stools to sit down. He sensed tension. He looked at Obi-Wan, and then around them.
“I sense it, too.” He stepped away from the stool. They were being watched.
It wasn’t peril. Not an attack. But some serious attention focused on them. Enough to disturb the Force. They stepped away from the table; it was in a line of others like it next to a short wall with planted ferns and flowers running along the top. The crowd moved around them, many of them going toward the club and another refreshment table nearby.
“Aaaaaaeeeeeeeeee!!!”
A mob of girls in capes and colored skirts rushed out from out from around a pillar and cluster of plants. Qui-Gon tensed, but he did not reach for his lightsaber. They streamed around him, Humans and Zonims, squealing and giggling, pinching his robe as they went. But they grabbed Obi-Wan’s robe, dragging him with them, toward the club. Qui-Gon took a step after them. He recognized one girl from across the table at dinner. She was older, with brassy blond hair and she wore a swirling blue dress. And she cast a victorious glance back at the older Jedi, her hands firmly grasping...an empty robe.
She and her friends stopped, stumbling in surprise. Obi-Wan had vanished.
Qui-Gon caught a glimpse of a boot disappearing behind a column in his peripheral vision, but he did not turn his head to betray where his Padawan had gotten to. He folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe and smugly appraised the girls before him. Even he hadn’t realized that Obi-Wan had escaped until he was gone. They were still staring at the empty robe, poking it for signs of life. The brassy blond glared up at him, then jerked the robe away from the others, wadded it up and threw it back at him. Qui-Gon reached out and caught it, though there was no really good way to catch a hurled Jedi robe; most of it flopped in his face and over his shoulder. Some of the girls turned and marched to the club while others suspiciously glanced back at Qui-Gon as they drifted toward the refreshments.
Qui-Gon held the robe out, found the collar and hood and shook it out. He folded it over his arm and put it on the empty stool at his table. Then he took a seat to finish his tea.
Obi-Wan Kenobi sat with his knees folded to his chest between a huge potted tree and a pillar. A couple of older Zonims passed by, glancing at him curiously, but not stopping. Otherwise no one noticed him...except...
A young girl with very short, brown hair, a lot of face make-up and white pants and matching cape with the a pink border pattern silently looked down at him. She was from the group at dinner. But she didn’t say anything or wave to her friends where he was. She must have been hiding with them, but for some reason, didn’t take part in the ambush.
She turned, craning her neck around the column.
“They’re still looking for you,” she reported. “But they’re not coming here,” she quickly added. “Your father’s just sitting at that table with his drink.”
Obi-Wan refrained from correcting her about his relationship with Qui-Gon. Or saying anything at all. If he simply waited, her friends would lose interest and they could leave. But...
“If we go this way, they won’t see us.” She pointed toward a wide walkway. “There’s another dessert table over there.” He didn’t see any amidst the strolling party-goers. He wasn’t hungry. Mularin Bering, the boy whose mother had sat next to Qui-Gon at dinner, had been quite emphatic that the girls across from them were only interested in their own amusement and no one else’s feelings. He hadn’t said anything more specific but his tone told Obi-Wan that he had been poorly used by the group.
But he felt silly.
He could wield a lightsaber to defend his own life, leap to great heights and command the Force (well, most of the time at least). This did not feel like a situation for hiding to him.
The girl smiled when he got up and they kept the plants and pillar between them and her friends as they moved away down the broad concourse. Around a corner there was a laden refreshment table that wasn’t too crowded and the girl accepted a glass of juice from the attendant droid. Obi-Wan declined her offer.
“I’m Zerma.” She held out her hand. He bowed in reply.
“Obi-Wan.” She withdrew her hand and then apologized for her friends. They were fun, but sometimes they over-did things, but really they were very nice...
Obi-Wan nodded, drawing the Force in him, focusing it on one idea. He raised his hand.
“You’d really rather go back to them now,” he told her.
“But we could go back to them now...” she repeated a little vacantly.
“I’ll be fine here,” he hastily added.
Her smile returned. “You’ll be fine here.” She patted his arm, put her juice down and turned to go.
“There’s Eeli!” she suddenly gasped. Obi-Wan saw a familiar orange and pink cape from the girls at dinner emerging from the crowd and coming in their direction. Zerma whirled, pushing him away from the table.
“This way!” She led him down the corridor, bumping into some annoyed people on the way. They went into a darkened doorway down a hall where she pressed a panel that opened a door to a spiral staircase. They went up several levels and entered a dark room.
The upper walls and ceiling was a clear dome, bright starlight visible through it. Obi-Wan smelled soil and plants, and the air was cool, but the only light came from blinking, outside lights, the glow from windows in the buildings below and the white reflections of snow on the roofs.
“They use this room for the roof gardens.” Zerma told him. His eyes adjusting to the gloom, Obi-Wan a closed door with a faintly glowing locking panel next to it. Through the windows he saw larger transparent domes on their roof, dark shapes within protected from the chill outside.
“Its nice up here,” Zerma said, taking a step toward him in the darkness. Obi-Wan anticipated her before she moved. He whirled away from her grasp. He heard her stumble, hitting the wall, then the outline of her head looked about before she spotted him against the opposite window. He looked to either side. The stair and the door were the same distance away.
“The door’s locked,” she told him, obviously seeing where he was looking. “I have the key.” Obi-Wan stayed silent. He could have just gone down the stairs when she’d stumbled. But he didn’t feel like this was something he should run away from. He didn’t know why.
“You’re pretty fast,” she said, standing, but not moving toward him this time. He still said nothing. Even without the Force, and Mularin Bering’s warning, he could see what her intentions were. But he did have the Force with him and he also had a very clear image of them, too.
What he didn’t know was what he wanted. If he stayed with her now, what would it be like? He certainly knew what it was supposed to be like, but his body felt the intensity of the void between knowledge and experience. Intimacy, or at least, the kind she was thinking about, was not actually forbidden by the Jedi Code. Attachments were. There were obviously no attachments here.
But he also had a very clear image in his mind of her only a few minutes ago, vacuously repeating the words he had told her to say, to get her to go away. That image formed with hers in his mind into something that repelled him.
“We could just wait here, I suppose.” She moved to the side as she talked. Not closer to him, not yet. That was when Obi-Wan sensed a presence on the stair. Someone...more than one someone, were very silently coming up.
He looked from the door that she had the key for, to the stair and then back to the door. She saw the motion and misread the meaning.
“I’m not so bad,” she said coyly, from her side of the small room. “I mean, people might talk, but that’s just cause they’re jealous.” She moved her body so her cape swished against the wall. He sensed the others at the top of the stair, listening in the dark. The situation had drastically changed and Obi-Wan wondered if it would be overkill for him to cut through the door with his lightsaber.
“And I saw you kept looking at me at dinner.” Obi-Wan was quite certain that he hadn’t. She unfastened her cape and took it off, the fabric rustling loudly in the silence.
A bright light flashed on. Three girls, two Human and a Zonim, and a Human boy rushed up into the room.
“You–” The girl holding the lantern up stopped short in mid-accusation. Zerma had not only taken her cape off, she’d loosened the shirt under it, showing a lot of bare shoulder. Obi-Wan was fully clothed and on the opposite end of the room. The boy started to laugh.
“Guess you didn’t get this one, Zerma! Not so good after all!” The others joined in. Zerma’s expression changed from surprise to stricken horror, which only encouraged them. Offended by the open cruelty, Obi-Wan stepped forward. But the others were already descending the stairs, the light going down with them. He heard a sob from Zerma. She went to the stair but he blocked her way.
“Don’t let them laugh at you. That’s how they hurt people,” he told her. He couldn’t see her expression in the fading light from below, but his arms came up automatically to block the blows she aimed at his head. Then he let her push him aside.
“You stupid, little, Jedi gois-maggot!!” she shrieked as she followed the others downward. He heard more sobs, stumbling and banging on the stairs, another screamed curse, then footsteps running away. Obi-Wan stared down at the dim light at the bottom of the stair. Then he went down himself. So, she’d noticed the lightsaber after all, he reflected. She hadn’t said anything or even glanced at it; he wasn’t even sure that she knew what a Jedi was. But she obviously did. And it was common knowledge that Jedi did not pursue personal relationships. He felt like he’d been in a fight that he should have avoided. He couldn’t think of anything that he’d actually done that was wrong, but it was still all wrong.
At the doorway to the brightly lit concourse, people walked by laughing, smiling. There was no sign of Zerma and her ‘friends’. The turmoil inside him washed out his earlier sense of the place and he closed his eyes a moment. Then he went back to the courtyard. Qui-Gon was still at the table. He heard peels of female laughter from the direction of the dance club as he approached. He didn’t turn his head to look, but Qui-Gon did and that was even worse than facing them himself. There were some fairly specific taunts about “Jedi kid” and “stud”, but he didn’t acknowledge them. That was how they hurt people. He really didn’t care what any of those people said or did, but the public display was beyond embarrassing.
--- tbc ---
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Links to all fics -- http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25405090&brd=10304&start=26223917 The Heart of the Jedi -- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26013327 ---- Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, JA and everything you wanted to know about lightsabers
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dianethx
Registered:
Mar '02
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Date Posted:
1/1/06 12:57pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-3 -- Update: 1-Jan-2006
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Oh, poor Obi-Wan. So inexperienced in the ways of women and he can only feel embarrassed and rather confused about the whole thing. Qui-Gon needs to explain a few things to him.
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PadawanKitara
Registered:
Dec '01
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Date Posted:
1/1/06 1:14pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-3 -- Update: 1-Jan-2006
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AT least obi-Wan ewcognized the trap for what it was. It could have been worse for him.
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Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi
We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile!
UCLA BRUINS
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Dragonlady
Registered:
Jul '05
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Date Posted:
1/1/06 5:33pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-3 -- Update: 1-Jan-2006
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I'm not sure where you're going with this, but that makes it all the more utterly fascinating. And your descriptions paint a wonderfully vivid picture in my head. Thanks for this, and I look forward to your next update.
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ardavenport
Registered:
Dec '04
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Date Posted:
1/4/06 4:03pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-4 -- Update: 4-Jan-2006
- Date Edited:
1/8/06 3:54pm (1 edits total)
Edited By:
ardavenport
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dianethx: Oh, poor Obi-Wan. So inexperienced in the ways of women and he can only feel embarrassed and rather confused about the whole thing. Qui-Gon needs to explain a few things to him.
Oh yes, Qui-Gon does explain a few things.
PadawanKitara: AT least obi-Wan ewcognized the trap for what it was. It could have been worse for him.
Obi-Wan's always been cautious. His instincts work for him, even though he's inexperienced.
Dragonlady: I'm not sure where you're going with this, but that makes it all the more utterly fascinating.
Thanks for reading. It does wander a little bit, but it's going somewhere, I promise.
================================================= part 4 ===
His master turned away from them, silently got up and handed him his robe. Obi-Wan took it, found the sleeves in the folds of fabric and put it on, lifting the hood up over his head. Qui-Gon’s face was expressionless and Obi-Wan couldn’t possibly fathom what he was thinking and thankfully he couldn’t really find the energy in himself to wonder about it. Qui-Gon put the hood of his robe on as well and they left together.
Qui-Gon said nothing as they made their way back to the transport area. His Padawan was quite thoroughly miserable. He’d witnessed some of it, but he refused to speculate about the rest; he would not add his own prejudices to Obi-Wan’s obvious pain. Obi-Wan would have to find his own words to tell him and a crowded promenade was not a good place for such a conversation.
Knots of people, many of them with small children, gathered around the platform, waiting for the next transport; it apparently went to several compounds, once of which was the Tilplens’s. Soon one arrived and they got on. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat by themselves. No one seemed to want to sit near the two robed and hooded passengers. One little girl repeatedly asked her father in a high pitched voice why they couldn’t stay while a mother tried to shush a squalling infant.
“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan said very quietly. Qui-Gon turned to head, but Obi-Wan continued to stare straight ahead, his face hidden in the brown hood. There was a long pause. The baby wailing got louder in the car.
“I think I am in need of your guidance, Master,” he finally finished.
“Ah.” Qui-Gon settled back in his seat. Now it was his turn to search for the right words. “I can only offer what I know and what I have done.” Unfortunately, Qui-Gon regretted that he had more to say about what NOT to do than any real wisdom. But Obi-Wan seemed reassured by this.
Their transport slowed and then stopped at the compound platform. They waited for all the other passengers to leave first before climbing out. But instead of going into the warm entry building, they strolled out onto a darkened path amidst the snow and squat dark shapes of trees and shrubs.
Obi-Wan told him what happened. Or rather, what DIDN’T happen. Qui-Gon privately marveled that Obi-Wan had managed to fall into all the embarrassment and awkwardness of a youthful encounter without actually having done anything. But his story gave him only facts; it lacked substance.
“You haven’t told me how you feel, Obi-Wan.” There was a long pause in the darkness.
“I don’t know what I feel, Master.”
“Do you regret what happened?”
“I...I think I should have done better.”
But ‘better’ was a relative term and Qui-Gon questioned him about it as their footsteps crunched on the frozen path. Obi-Wan took some time to circle around the shame and deception, but Qui-Gon was very proud to sense no anger or bitterness. But there was a lot of self-doubt and worry.
“You think that you were wrong to respond to the girl yourself?”
There was a long pause. “I think it would have been wrong for me to use her.” He hadn’t answered the question and Qui-Gon pressed him on it.
“I...I do wonder, Master. I know things but...I don’t think it’s enough,” he admitted. But Obi-Wan then asked the question that Qui-Gon knew was inevitable. “Have you ever had physical relations with another person, Master?” Qui-Gon sighed and glanced up at the starry sky above the edge of his hood.
“Yes.” He sensed only mild surprise from Obi-Wan, but his Padawan stopped walking when he continued. “Several times.” The first time, he’d been much older than Obi-Wan was now, a Jedi Knight, not just a Padawan. And he’d caused much more damage among many more people. He certainly hoped that the telling of this story for Obi-Wan was worth the pain of his having gone through it. He kept walking as he began and Obi-Wan hastened to catch up.
“You have noticed that it is easier to influence someone who might be attracted to you.” This was not a question.
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan answered quietly.
“One of the perils to beware of is how much you might be influenced by the other person.”
He tried to keep it short, but there were many complications. He’d been captured by slavers, a young Jedi overcome by their numbers. They’d trussed him up with shielded shackles in a sealed room while they’d argued about what to do with him. One of their lackeys had helped herself to the key to slip in and check him out. Her interests were purely carnal and he’d felt no guilt at all, then or now, about using that his advantage. They’d barely gotten to the perimeter of the outpost when an alarm had gone up about an attack from rival criminals and they’d taken refuge in a sub-basement until the excitement died down.
She’d been much older than he, pretty and very fit with a deceptively dainty voice. And he’d found then that it was much easier to get her to betray her comrades than it was to turn aside her lust. And she was very experienced. And he wasn’t.
There was a long pause. Obi-Wan had questions. He answered them. Where had he been? Where had she? What did she say? When did he decide? What did she touch? What did he do? How? And how long? He answered and noted again that his Padawan was focusing on physical details, not his feelings. Again, Obi-Wan confessed, he didn’t know what they were.
“At first I denied what I felt, rejected it,” he continued. “How very much I enjoyed the moment, desired it, immersing myself so completely in it with this woman.” He turned his head to his Padawan, a darker, blacker blob in the blackness around them. “Even if you don’t recognize what it is, never deny what you feel, Obi-Wan.”
His liaison had involved his mission, delayed him when it shouldn’t have. Nobody was put at risk in the end, but the woman had tried to kill him when he and two other Jedi Knights had sprung a trap on the slavers and she’d made sure that their intimacy became spectacularly public, in loud, declarative detail. There was a inquiry, with only a reprimand resulting from it. But the cascade of advice and warnings that had fallen on him afterward had ranged from sage to impractical to completely ridiculous. Master Yoda, he pointed out, was wise but still eight-hundred years old and would only advise meditation. It was Master Silanza who had guided him toward his own answer.
“How?” Obi-Wan asked.
“By showing me.” He sighed, their slow, quiet footsteps on the frozen gravel path the only sound around them. He smiled at the shock he sensed next to him. “Intimacy is not forbidden by the Code, Obi-Wan. Attachments are. At least, that is the usual excuse.
“But a necessary one. For me. It was exhilarating. I’d never felt so much a part of the moment before. So much so, that I had completely lost the moment, my connection to my surroundings, even the Force. Master Silanza was strong with the Living Force and...showed me how to acknowledge my true feelings. And while I suppose the physical sensation is always available, I have not felt such exquisite pleasure of losing myself so completely since then.”
“You sound sad. Do you regret that?”
“No.” He smiled in the dark. “I prefer to be in control. But even as you gain control, you still give something up.” Obi-Wan seemed to have no more questions after that and Qui-Gon didn’t add anything more. He was beginning to lecture. And this was the worst possible subject to lecture about. He knew there would be more conversations like this in the future.
For now, Obi-Wan solemnly absorbed what he’d said, but Qui-Gon knew that much of it was still academic for him now. He’d barely internalized that evening’s debacle.
Qui-Gon’s boot slid out from under him on a suddenly slick, icy patch. Instantly he knew that he could not regain his footing and could only fall as well as possible. The bank by the path was somewhere between fluffy snow and hardened ice pack and his body made a huge, deep indentation in it.
Qui-Gon looked up. It was really a very beautiful, cloudless starry night. Bits of ice and snow trickled down on his face, into his beard, cold dribbling on his neck and into his collar. Obi-Wan’s dark shape leaned over him to help him up. Perhaps, Qui-Gon hoped as he took Obi-Wan’s hand, they had done enough personal introspection for now, and they could go back to the lesson about awareness of surroundings that he’d thought he would be teaching.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Qui-Gon woke to a soft whirring sound barely audible under the loud snoring on the other side of the bed. Something was different.
The room was dark with only starlight coming through the windows. Qui-Gon lifted his head and turned. The droid, its eye sockets glowing gold, was returning their clothes. It laid the folded laundry on the table and left. Lazmat’s snoring and Edi’s heavy breathing continued undisturbed. He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep but he felt rested. Day would not come for many hours yet.
The Bovadi day-night cycle was as long as two days on many other worlds, which was why he hadn’t expected to get stranded by the holiday. It was already so long he hadn’t thought that it would be extended. He sighed. He’d underestimated the colonists’ enthusiasm for holidays.
He reached up and turned the lantern on to low power. The droid have given them lanterns when they’d returned to the compound and he’d put his in the corner of the sleeping platform with his and Obi-Wans’ lightsabers when they’d retired. The room was just as chilly as he’d predicted though he didn’t see any ice on the inside of the window. He pushed the blankets back. None of the padded body pockets they’d found in the jumble on the sleeping platform were long enough for him so he’d supplemented it with rugs and blankets on top. Obi-Wan stirred next to him, but the Urms slept on. Since Zolets and Zonims saw in the infrared light range it was never truly dark for them anyway. And the Urms had been somewhat inebriated when they’d returned, waking both of them. The Jedi had feinted sleep while Edi and his aunt stumbled about and shushed each other to be quiet, before falling into bed fully clothed. There was really no reason to deal with drunk people if one didn’t have to.
Obi-Wan stared down at a lump lying across his stomach; the end of Edi’s snout poked out from under a blanket. Qui-Gon smiled. When thrown together, the species with the higher body temperature tended to get more company. Which was why he’d chosen a spot next to wall and let his Padawan deal with the hazards of the middle.
Qui-Gon slipped out of the sleeping pocket and accepted the cold for what it was. He could just see the puff of his own breath in the air. He picked up the lantern and got up. He extended his hand and his lightsaber flew to his palm. Obi-Wan did the same. And after carefully sliding out from under Edi, Obi-Wan followed him to the table. They both wore only long nightshirts from their travel packs, warm enough the night, but the floor was cold on their feet, even through their socks. Their clothes sat neatly folded, next to their boots and belts, Obi-Wan’s lantern and their survival packs, but they were mixed together so they had to sort it before going on to the lavatory at the end of the hall. Even though Mama-Low had claimed it was small, there was enough space for them to use the room together, taking turns with the facilities and the bath. Once dressed, they took their lanterns and went downstairs to the morning dining hall.
It wasn’t too early and they saw several others eating as well. Some younger children openly stared at them. Qui-Gon had thought about not bringing the lanterns as a test for Obi-Wan, but the Force was good for avoiding obstacles, but not for reading expressions on people’s faces. And they were guests and would be expected to have them. And Qui-Gon had another exercise in mind anyway.
A servitor droid brought them bowls of porridge and water. They would only have porridge and soft foods for the rest of the day. While Zonims and Zolets had pallets hard enough for articulate speech, they had no teeth. The porridge was mildly sweet with small, soft blobs of unidentifiable fruit in it.
They ate in companionable silence and occasionally answered a ‘Happy Gyseer’ greeting from some passing clan members.
“I think some meditation and exercise would do for now,” Qui-Gon stated as they stood and the silvery, long-armed servitor droid slid their used dishes onto its tray. Obi-Wan nodded. The world had suddenly turned normal after last night’s disaster and that would be his contemplation. They took their lanterns and found an unused room with a padded bench facing out into a empty field and the tundra beyond that, barely visible in the starlight. They turned the lanterns off and settled cross-legged on the bench.
Qui-Gon’s thoughts stilled. He felt the Force around him, through him, through Obi-Wan next to him and beyond. The lantern on the bench next to him silently rose in the air. People stirred in the building above and below. Tiny creatures scurried under the snow outside. He let his senses lay stretched out around him in the Force for some time, noting only the moment without time or place. Eventually he opened his eyes. He felt the living things far out around him, much further than he normally might have for a simple, morning meditation. He glanced to his right.
Obi-Wan faced him, studying what he did with the Force. Had his Padawan noticed? This place was strong with the light side of the Force. The Force existed throughout the galaxy, waxing and waning in various places and times, but always there. But this colony was exceptional. The Force was strong in the city, but it was especially so at the compound.
It was so easy to note only the presence of danger and darkness and take life and the light for granted. Qui-Gon wanted Obi-Wan to see it on his own; it would mean much more as a discovery than if he just told him. But the previous night’s anguish was still too much of a distraction for him to see the larger perspective. Qui-Gon exhaled. The lantern settle back down on the bench and he unfolded his legs. It could not be avoided for now, but he would guide his Padawan toward it as well as he could.
Obi-Wan got up with his master, who picked up his lantern, but did not turn it on. Obi-Wan noticed and did the same. He followed Qui-Gon outside.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Pimas readjusted the blanket around his shoulders and looked down at the spectacle in the field at the back of the service wing. Mama-Low had told everyone that he was in charge of the guests and now it seemed he was. His bond-sister had gotten him up to tell him that the Jedi were fighting. Blue and green lightsabers clashed and circled each other. Their heavy robes concealed most of their body glow, but he saw glimpses of their hands and faces as they dove and lunged.
They were obviously just practicing. At one point they stopped, the older one jumped high, flipping over in the air and landing neatly on his feet. Then he pointed and the young one to did it a few times while he watched. Then they went back to fighting with the lightsabers again. Pimas could see why only Jedi used them. Surely Jedi had to have some kind of special powers just to not accidently take their own fingers off with weapons like that. Or perhaps they had some kind of safety device on them for practice to prevent accidents? He didn’t know. Or really care.
It was fascinating to watch. Which was the problem. They’d been at it for awhile and they were starting to attract a crowd inside as more people got up. But to Pimas’s great relief the lightsabers went out and they walked off, saving him from having to get dressed. He watched them walk off, just to make sure they were done fighting. It looked like they were heading out of the compound. He yawned and turned to go back to a bed. He knew that they were competent in the cold weather. He’d find them later and prevail on them to be less conspicuous.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Obi-Wan walked down the narrow ice path. Qui-Gon followed. They were going to the Nebo-Sun constabulary to check on their prisoner; the sherif had scanned them, given them passkey cards and introduced them to the guard droids and her deputies. They were at liberty to come and go, so long as they minded the droids and her staff.
They’d taken their gloves from their belt pouches and put them on against the cold and pulled their hoods up over their faces. The path was unlit and with only starlight above, almost completely black in shadow. They still carried the lanterns, unlit.
Qui-Gon hadn’t asked Obi-Wan if he remembered the way back to the constabulary tower. He’d simply invited him to lead. Obi-Wan had prepared for something like this, laying aside his dwellings on the previous night; he knew he would do more of that later. But now he would focus on his task as he led the way. After some time, he saw a patch of faint gray light on the ground and he lifted the hood of his robe. They were close. The constabulary was in the city which was lit for multiple species. Obi-Wan expected no praise for his success, but he sensed his master’s satisfaction as they walked up to the ground level, crossed the street, nearly devoid of traffic, and presented their cards to the sentry droid at the gate. They took off their hoods so they could be scanned and then followed a guard droid inside. The prison was on the upper levels of the building.
They exited an elevator into a gleaming silver hallway and their escort handed them off to a weary looking deputy in a wrinkled black and purple uniform behind a high, encircling desk. There was a lot more noise and activity than they expected, especially with the city so quiet outside. The deputy explained that they had quite a few Gyseer-eve party-goers who had made an extra effort to make sure that they would have something to confess to. It was a regular side-effect of the holiday. Most of them would be let go to their families. Members of the clans of the more serious offenders would be brought in for their atonement, if they asked for it. A security droid checked them in and put their lanterns behind the desk. It didn’t ask for their lightsabers, but instead asked them to confirm verbally that they had them.
“I wish we had more prisoners like yours,” the deputy told them as they passed another deputy leading an angry-looking Zonim in binders. They passed many windows into cells and quite a number of them were occupied with one of more prisoners. They stopped at a wide window into a large silver-metal cell. The ice block containing Nule Radeel rested on a deactivated anti-grav on the floor. Qui-Gon asked to be let inside. She shrugged, but passed her keycard through the lock. They entered.
“There he is. Hasn’t gone anywhere,” the deputy announced.
“Thank you,” Qui-Gon replied. “We would like to stay for a bit.”
The deputy looked confused, scratching her hairless blue head. “Uh, I suppose. If you want. Do you want a terminal, a recorder, something to write on?” she asked, trying to make sense of the odd request.
“No, thank-you. We will be fine,” Qui-Gon assured her.
“Um, I have to lock the door,” she continued.
Qui-Gon nodded. “That will be fine.” She hastily used her keycard to activate the comlink by the door. “Just call when you need to be let out.” The door locked firmly behind her.
--- tbc ---
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Links to all fics -- http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25405090&brd=10304&start=26223917 The Heart of the Jedi -- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26013327 ---- Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, JA and everything you wanted to know about lightsabers
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Dragonlady
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Jul '05
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Date Posted:
1/4/06 4:22pm
Subject:
RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-4 -- Update: 4-Jan-2006
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I enjoyed all of this chapter, but your description of Qui-Gon's past was what intrigued me most. Somehow, it fits him. I don't see Lucas' Qui-Gon as attached, but I don't see him as a monk either, and I think you found a wonderful balance there.
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dianethx
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Mar '02
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Date Posted:
1/4/06 4:49pm
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RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-4 -- Update: 4-Jan-2006
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I also enjoyed the background with Qui-Gon's history and how it was helping Obi-Wan with his dilemma. Loved the idea of Qui-Gon slipping into the snow and all the people sleeping in one big bed. LOL. I wonder why they are there at the prison if the prisoner isn't awake.
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ardavenport
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Date Posted:
1/7/06 8:48am
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RE: Mercy Day -- Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan story -- Pt 1-4 -- Update: 4-Jan-2006
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Thanks to all for reading... 
Dragonlady: I enjoyed all of this chapter, but your description of Qui-Gon's past was what intrigued me most. Somehow, it fits him. I don't see Lucas' Qui-Gon as attached, but I don't see him as a monk either, and I think you found a wonderful balance there.
Yes, I think that if the Jedi can make any claim to wisdom then they must acknowledge the psychologies of all the species of their order along with their various urges and inclinations. While their Code may be severe, I think it developed from experience rather than dogma.
dianethx: I also enjoyed the background with Qui-Gon's history and how it was helping Obi-Wan with his dilemma. Loved the idea of Qui-Gon slipping into the snow and all the people sleeping in one big bed. LOL. I wonder why they are there at the prison if the prisoner isn't awake.
Aaah, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are so much more fun when they're on a really interesting planet. And read on....Qui-Gon has his motives for going back to the prison.
=============================================== part 5 ===
There was no furniture in the cell, just hygiene facilities inset in the wall and some rolled up sleeping mats in a corner. Obi-Wan looked at his master curiously as he took one mat from the corner and unrolled it on the metal floor. He had no idea what they could gain from their frozen prisoner, but he sat down on the mat next to Qui-Gon. Outside, more deputies and others soundlessly passed by; the room was completely isolated from the noise outside.
“Do you sense anything from him, my Padawan?”
Obi-Wan looked carefully at the body in the ice, hardly recognizable as the angry man they’d last seen ordering battle droids to attack while he retreated. He closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. “No, Master,” he finally answered.
“Not even that he’s alive?” Qui-Gon prodded.
Obi-Wan grimaced, knowing that he’d jumped to the conclusion that Qui-Gon has sensed something unusual. Qui-Gon had simply meant literally anything. He closed his eyes and tried again. The Force flowed from all life; it bound all things, living and non-living together. A Jedi used it to draw strength from and sense the life around them. Obi-Wan felt it flow strongly through him, in the room around him, very strongly through Qui-Gon next to him, and through the block of ice before him. He opened his eyes. He felt the connection between himself and the ice and the being in it. Nule Radeel hovered in a weird non-death, but still alive. It wasn’t living in any way that Obi-Wan had ever sensed before; less than sleep, less than near-death, less than the tiny cr | |