Before - Legends Amnesty - Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan mission - COMPLETE - 14-Mar-2012

Title: Amnesty
Author: ardavenport
Timeframe: pre-Episode I, pre-TPM
Genre: drama, adventure
Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, OCs
Keywords: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn, amnesty
Summary: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are assigned to a place of amnesty and some interesting persons walk in.
Disclaimer: All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to George and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


"Master."

Qui-Gon Jinn's eyes snapped open, his light sleep vanishing. It was dark, no lights, only faint white, pink and orange reflections on the walls and vaulted ceiling. The hand on his cheek withdrew. He rolled over on the padded bench and rise up on one elbow. The dark outline of his nineteen year-old Padawan was close, behind him the delicately carved whorls and figures of an outer wall beyond the entry archway of the observatory, pale reddish-pink in the nebula light from the night sky outside.

"Someone's coming."

Qui-Gon rolled all the way off, his boots hitting the floor. In a few steps he passed Obi-Wan out to the veranda. It was too early to be the end of Obi-Wan's watch. There was no lightening of the sky from the planet's star, just the bright swirls and stars of the K'koosh Nebula that filled more than half the night sky. Ducking into the shadow of the pillars and statues, he still had a full view of the canyon below. At the base of the stairs leading up to the observatory a lone figure climbed up toward them with a faint scrape and clink of armor and weapons. Qui-Gon's hand went to his lightsaber and he backed up a pace.

"Did the sentries warn you?" It was too early for anyone to come. But not too early for an ambush.

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan whispered back. "None of them were disabled or attacked. They read no energy sources."

"Is there just the one?"

"Yes, Master. He seems to be alone; no ship, no droids. And no other large lifeforms."

If it was an ambush, it was a very bad one. Or one so destructive that it had no need of stealth.

"What shall we do?" Obi-Wan whispered.

Qui-Gon glanced back at his young apprentice, face pale in the pinkish stellar light.

"He obviously wishes to meet us. So, we will meet him."

Qui-Gon moved to the entry arch, standing in plain view, his dark robe pushed back from his sides, the lightsaber clipped to his belt exposed; his Padawan positioned himself at his side and a step behind.

Less than halfway up, their visitor paused. He looked humanoid, medium height, male body-type. He wore black armor over his upper and lower torso with dark vertical ridges accented silver. There were black boots, gauntlets and arm guards, shiny enough to mirror the stellar brilliance above. His thighs and upper arms were dark and dull. An eye visor cut a shiny black horizontal gash across the silvered vertical helmet ridges that formed a crown of sensor tips over the head. There was a heavy blaster rifle sticking up from behind his shoulders and a blaster holster below each hip. He lowered his head and resumed climbing.

The air was warm and still, smelling of stone, dust and the huge tufts of flowering dry grass growing among the rocks. Over the low hum of the observatory's shield generator, a reptile bird cawed; another answered from far way. Large, hairy insects scurried away from their warm, comfortable spots on the stone steps as the man in armor approached. Qui-Gon remained completely still, the Force, an aura of life coming into clearer focus around him.

Step, step, step. Coming closer, higher.

A tiny lizard snapped up a glittering, drifting bubble insect.

Step, clink-creak, step, clink-creak. He reached a landing, crossed it without breaking stride and climbed up the next section of stairs.

Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, his anticipation finally stilling.

Step, clink-creak, step, clink-creak.

The person stopped at the final landing less than two body-lengths below them. The helmet tilted up again. Qui-Gon sensed . . . . nothing. Only an armored man standing on bare stone. No hostility but some satisfaction.

 

Another great story but you know what I want to know: is Master Fakmeer human female? If so, she'll get a surprise when Obi-Wan shows up in a loincloth.

 

Nice to see a new story from you..very interesting as always.

A nearly naked Obi-Wan sent to run an errand? My-my...

This should be interesting.

 

Nice to see a new story with all the interesting characters you create

 

I'm hooked. Can I have a PM? Great chapter!

 

Valairy_Scot: Thank-you! Mmmmmm, no. Master Fakmeer is not a human female, but I'm sure she can appreciate Obi-Wan's excellent loincloth.

obimom: Oh, I've got all kinds of stories to write - Someday i'll get done with that 80+ page epic I keep pecking at - I'm just not that fast with them. And getting Obi-Wan's clothes off - always fun. Thanks for reading!

earlybird-obi-wan: Thank-you!

charie: Thanks for reading!

 

>><< o >><< Part 2


Pants on, Vaklarooz scowled at Obi-Wan's undertunic, holding it up, looking at it front and back. Not interested in explaining Jedi under-shirts to him, Qui-Gon let him figure it out for himself, which he did with passable results. He was marginally more successful with the tunic, tabbards, obi and belt. Not nearly as tidy as Obi-Wan, but acceptable, especially when he put the robe on over everything. He pointed at the boots left on the floor.

"Those aren't going to fit."

Qui-Gon frowned back. "Then you should go out to get your own. No one will notice. You'll have to pick up your things anyway and signal your friends that you have been successful."

With an evil grin, he left. Qui-Gon sighed. Through the archway, he could see of sky had gone a dark blue.

Wearing his own shiny black boots, Vaklarooz was back a moment later, his bundle of armor and weapons in his arms. A blaster slipped out and clattered on the floor as he went to put it all on a bench. Bending down, Qui-Gon scooped it up. The blaster was light, the power pack slot empty. He laid it on the bench. No power source could pass through the outer or inner shields without a push-back shock, along with setting off the alarms.

"It seems pointless for you to have brought your weapons."

Vaklarooz ripped open the top of his pack. "I felt naked without them." He pulled out a pink case, clicked a switch and the top flipped up. Amused, Qui-Gon watched as Vaklarooz applied gel to flatten his hair, put on a frazzled gray wig and then a thin mask of plasti-flesh that distorted his features, added straggly hairs to his chin. When he was finished, he was quite wrinkled with tired features. Qui-Gon supposed that Raan, who had provided the disguise, did not have a high opinion of Jedi.

Straightening, Vaklarooz settled the hood of Obi-Wan's robe on his head. Looking down, he pushed back the edge of the robe, exposing the belt on his left side.

"I don't have a lightsaber."

Qui-Gon stepped up to him, tugged the robe's collar edges together and pressed down on the hidden closure.

"They won't notice." He stepped back. "Unless Raan has provided you with a vocal disguise as well, I would advise that you say nothing. I will do all the talking. You will merely greet the refugees and direct them to where they should go."

He pointed at the entrance and then to the stairwell down to the lower levels at the back of the room where Obi-Wan had gone. Then he waited until he had Vaklarooz's attention.

"Nothing more," he finished.

With a grin, Vaklarooz silently bowed his head. Qui-Gon went to a panel behind the bench, pointed at a control, hidden in the patterned, carved stone and a compartment door slid aside.

"You may hide your things here." Without waiting for an acknowledgment, he sat down on the bench, straightened, relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes, effectively dismissing his new 'assistant'.

In the Force, Vaklarooz was still there, calm, confident in his ability to succeed no matter what happened. Below was Obi-Wan, not quite so calm. And beyond the observatory the aura of life and the Force were undisturbed other than the flitting of the small life among the rocks, the air cooled and freshened by early morning. Sunup was coming.

At the soft sound of bare feet on the stairs, he opened his eyes, turned his head to see Obi-Wan emerging from the lower level. Qui-Gon stood and turned to face his Padawan, who, with a covert glance toward Vaklarooz, bowed his head before speaking.

"Master Fakmeer trusts your judgment. He has forwarded your information to Admiral Jorshak and he will assign ships to monitor the mountains to our east for any energy signatures. He also wishes to remind you that our highest priority is the amnesty. It must remain peaceful." Obi-Wan let out a sigh of acceptance. Qui-Gon gave him a smile of approval and put a hand on his bare shoulder. The skin was prickled with cold pimples.

"I have no doubt of that." He shrugged a shoulder down, out of his robe. "Here - - -"

Obi-Wan waved the offer off. "No, Master." He stepp

 

Hmm, wonder if I could apply for amnesty - you know, to spend some time with a nearly naked Obi-Wan.

But even better, I get to spend some time with him without surrendering my possessions just be reading your story and visualizing the story.

 

I love those different descriptions of Jinn and Kenobi.

Always nice to see your stories developing with the funny word-games

 

Valairy_Scot: Nearly naked and goose-pimply Obi-Wan, too. Thanks for reading.

earlybird-obi-wan: Thank-you!

 

>><< o >><< Part 3

The com sounded. Qui-Gon left the mercenary, crossing the room again and clicked the com on. Master Fakmeer's bluish image appeared, floating in mid-air by the holo-projector, her large mane framing her angular face. Qui-Gon bowed and reported what had happened and his suspicions about Vaklarooz and that Yivis Raan and her people were likely dead from one of their own bombs. Fakmeer nodded and bared a fang; Admiral Jorshak reported that orbital sensors confirmed the blast. But there was no other activity, no unauthorized ships, no attacks. They would send down droids to investigate the mountain and see if there were any survivors, but if nothing else happened, if no fighting broke out, the amnesty could continue. The explosion had been mostly contained under the mountain. And the outer shields of Qui-Gon's site would easily protect them from any radiation fallout, but refugees would be directed toward the other five sites. Republic and Federate negotiators got on the com and while Qui-Gon quietly waited, the little holographic images decided that a mountain blowing up wasn't enough violence to cancel the plan. He acknowledged and clicked off the com.

Still just wearing just loincloth, boots and lightsaber, Obi-Wan had come up behind him.

"We can expect no new refugees, but we will maintain our vigil until sundown as planned. How are things downstairs?"

"Quiet. They are mostly anxious for sundown to come so they can move on. A few looked concerned when I came up here, but - - "

Qui-Gon raised a hand and Obi-Wan whirled about.

"Aaahh-eeee-eee!"

A little Devish girl squealed in surprise as Vaklarooz grabbed her arm as she sneaked up the last few steps from the lower level. Vaklarooz snarled at her, shaking her and almost lifting her up off the ground.

"Shut-up you little - - "

In three steps, Obi-Wan had a grip on Vaklarooz's shoulders, his fingers digging hard into the nerves. Qui-Gon caught the little girl, keeping her from falling back down the stairs. Vaklarooz dropped and whirled. Obi-Wan's lightsaber broke out of the straps on his boot, flipping up into his hand.

Fffffff-zzzz-zzzzz-zzzzz-tttttttt!!!!

Vaklarooz froze, Obi-Wan's lightsaber blade at his throat, the plasma blade shining a bright pale blue over his skin, singing a few wisps of hair on his false beard.

Setting the little girl down, Qui-Gon got her attention from the two not-quite combatants. He held up a finger and her eyes went wide, going cross-eyed staring at it.

"Now, you know you should not be up here," he told her gently and he sensed her thoughts echoing his words. She nodded, suddenly fearful. He smiled.

"There's nothing really interesting happening up here anyway. Just a big empty room with some adults standing around." She frowned her disappointment. He turned her around, away from where Obi-Wan and Vaklarooz remained immobile, and started her down the stairs. "There are much more fun things to do downstairs with the other younglings."

She was hopping by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs and skipped off.

Qui-Gon stood. Wrinkling his nose at the acrid smell of burnt synthetic hair, he slowly strolled around his apprentice and the mercenary. Vaklarooz's eyes followed him. He was down on one knee, his body bent backwards away from the deadly blade.

"I wasn't going to hurt the youngling."

"No, of course you weren't."

Qui-Gon gave his Padawan a curt little nod and the lightsaber went out as he stepped back. Vaklarooz stood carefully, straightening his borrowed robe. He had been worried, now not quite so sure that he was safe with the Jedi after all. Qui-Gon saw no reason to reassure him; he addressed Obi-Wan.

"Go down below and see to the refugees. It is unlikely that we'll have any more, but I'll signal you if we do."

"Yes, Master." With a little nod and a menacing look toward the man wearing his clothes, Obi-Wan left. Vaklarooz started to turn, to go back to his place by the door, but Qui-Gon held up a hand.

"Stay."

He stopped.

"There isn't much point in you being visible if there i

 

Ah, another fine story come to an end...can I have Obi-Wan now that you're done with him? You can keep the clothes.

 

Love the ending of this nice story and the situations you have our favorite Jedi in

 

I've added an epilogue but couldn't post it before the boards moved -- here is the real end for this story ---- and I sure hope they fix the truncated posts.



>><< o >> EPILOGUE << o >><<

The transport had a closed canopy; the terrain of the planet zoomed by below as it headed toward the designated gathering place, the clouds passing by above. They had already crossed from the night side of the planet into day. There was a single droid driver and wide cushioned bench seats facing each other.

Inspector Cayhoil sat next to Vaklarooz. Cayhoil's creased trouser legs next to Vaklarooz's armored knees.

Qui-Gon sat next to Obi-Wan, with the bundle of clothing wrapped up in his brown Jedi robe on the seat next to him.

Mercenary and Inspector both uncomfortably looked in every direction but at their travel companions while Qui-Gon, impervious to their tension, calmly gazed at them, evaluating the two. Obi-Wan did the same. Vaklarooz flicked a few hostile looks at them, and he seemed on the verge of saying something a couple of times, but he would then glance toward Cayhoil and look away.

Finally, the transport slowed, the flat plain of the official gathering place in sight. There were already many ships parked there. On the control screen in front, Qui-Gon could see the directions the droid followed as it descended and landed. The transport canopy popped open as soon as the engine rumble died down, the fresh scent of the low grasses and tiny plants of the plain coming in with the outside air. Cayhoil and Vaklarooz were on their feet immediately. They did not even give the Jedi a backward glance as they climbed out, down onto the plain and away. Obi-Wan leaned to the side, watching them head toward an angular temporary structure with lines of refugees snaking out from its wide doorways. Though they couldn't make out all the words, Vaklarooz's loud complaints came back to them.

". . . fazzhuz Jedi . . . how did he know? . . . . almost cut my head off over that little brat . . . "

Qui-Gon smiled. "What do you think of them, my young Padawan?"

Obi-Wan's turned back to him, his thin Padawan's braid draped over his shoulder, his blue-gray eyes amused.

"They do seem to have . . . . a relationship." His expression turned thoughtful. "And Vaklarooz has been working for the authorities for ten years?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Ever since his supposed assassination of Jedi Master Ketchpir." He told his apprentice the story the mercenary had told him, about being hired to kill the Jedi and then becoming an expendable part of a trap that Ketchpir saved him from at the last minute before dying herself.

Obi-Wan's eyes turned back to where the mercenary and the inspector had gone.

"Aaah! That is a new look for you, Kenobi!"

They both turned to see Jedi Masters Magah, Minee and Charamu arriving.

"You don't get very much sun, do you, youngling?" Charamu, a small brown-haired woman with a loud voice and a very curvy figure, called all Padawans 'youngling' no matter what their age. Her own Padawan, Scalat, a skinny female only a few years younger than Obi-Wan, looked on him with wide, green-eyed interest. The four arriving Jedi, all Humanoid females, took positions around them.

Obi-Wan shifted his bundle of clothes to clutch it before him. Magah, less than ten years younger than Qui-Gon, but with smooth, flawless brown skin, glanced down at the lightsaber strapped to his boot, and pouted with what might have been disappointment. "I think it just makes you look exposed. And I've tried a lightsaber that way." She sighed. "It's not very satisfying."

Obi-Wan blushed as Master Charamu nodded agreement. Master Minee, who was older than Qui-Gon with a long iron gray braid hanging down the back of her brown robe, huffed impatiently at the other woman's appraisal.

"I'm sure you have." Qui-Gon quirked a smile. He put an arm around Obi-Wan's bare shoulders, which were cold-pimpled again. "But his clothes were . . . spoilt during our vigil. They need to be cleaned."

"There will be time enough for that when we get these refugees on their way." Minee scanned the field. There were dozens of people around and probably many more in the temporary building. Masters Fakmeer and Bradni strolled into view. "We still have to go with these people to their real amnesties." The Jedi would escort the refugee ships out of Federate space to the planets where the former outlaws would be resettled. "We can only hope that they have the good sense to accept their good fortune and truly renounce their old ways." Minee made a sour face and folded her arms into the opposite sleeves of her robe.

Qui-Gon thought about Vaklarooz and Cayhoil together on a planet with a three-droid spaceport and a lot of warm beaches and shady trees.

"Yes, I think that some of them will."


<< o >><< END >><< o >>

 

Although modesty (for male) Jedi seems preferable, it seems few blink at the sight of a largely unclad young male in their midst, although Scalat seemed to take a bit of interest in the spectacle (not that I blame her). And she was pretty dead on: "I thinki it just makes you look exposed."

And rather an interesting way to comment on the lightsaber - "not very satisfying." Oh yeah, in what way?