None of Us Perfect 3/9

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction Stories--Classic JC Board (Reply-Only)' started by elismor, Sep 9, 2002.

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  1. elismor Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    Aug 26, 2002
    See dislcaimer in part 1.

    ----

    None of Us Perfect Part Three
    Elismor July 2002

    The Toothless Krayt cantina was a small establishment, tucked into a
    blind alley in what was arguably one of the worse sections of
    Anchorhead. As far as Obi-Wan could tell from initial impression,
    there was only one door to the place, making it an inherently
    dangerous spot to linger under the best of circumstances. In a
    spaceport filled with smugglers, thieves, and wanted men, it stood
    out as a particularly poor choice of places to tarry. Most people,
    he knew, wouldn't cross the threshold in broad daylight for a stack
    of credits as tall as an astromech droid. Yet there sat Eliel
    Jensei, comfortably ensconced at the bar and displaying her back to
    the patrons in what could be construed as an open invitation.

    He saw her left shoulder twitch slightly and watched as she took a
    measured sip of her drink. She knew he was there, then. And if she
    were happy to see him, she would have turned around to offer a
    greeting or, at the very least, acknowledge his presence. Right. He
    lingered on the stair for a moment, his conviction wavering. There
    was really only one course of action, though.

    Obi-Wan crossed the room quickly, ignoring the attention he drew
    along the way. "Master Ando gave me very explicit instructions about
    what I was supposed to do when I found you."

    She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow.

    "I am to hit you over the head with a large, heavy object. Then, I'm
    to throw you over my shoulder and return you to the Healer Hall
    where, I quote, 'the thick-skulled idiot belongs.'"

    Eliel took the time to drain her glass and set it down gently on the
    bar before looking up to meet his eyes. "Good luck with that," she
    said.

    In response, he cracked a wide grin and pulled up a stool next to
    her. "I told him it wouldn't work. So he sent this," Obi-Wan produced
    a small vial from the folds of his robes, sliding it across the bar.

    Eliel wrinkled her face into an involuntary mask of disgust. "That
    stuff," she said, "tastes like?"

    "The back end of a Gungan?"

    "After six days without a bath," she nodded, taking the medicine and
    stashing it in the pocket of her shirt..

    He tapped her on the arm lightly as she did so. "I'm to see that you
    drink that."

    "Of course you are."

    Obi-Wan caught the attention of the bartender and ordered a drink,
    then slipped off his robe and stashed it on a nearby stool. He
    pushed up his sleeves, plunked both elbows onto the bar and sighed,
    relieved to be out of the sun. A lot of effort could have been
    saved, had she simply answered any one of his calls on the comm.

    "Is your comm broken?" He asked, making an attempt at an innocent tone.

    Eliel shook her head. "Off."

    He frowned, but managed to twist it into a smile of thanks as his
    drink was delivered. Three sips in, he decided to make another go at
    conversation. "Did you lose your robes?"

    "Too hot."

    "Agreed," he nodded, taking a moment to look at her clothing. Both
    shirt and pants were made of a lightly woven linen and were cut very
    similarly to the traditional Jedi apparel, but dyed a bright blue.
    The color was not remarkable in and of itself, but it was one of only
    a handful of times he'd seen her in anything other than the muted
    beiges and browns of the Order and, as such, was slightly jarring to
    his senses.

    The most notable difference in her appearance, colors aside, was that
    her neck was exposed, affording a view of the intricate tattoos that
    were usually hidden from sight.
    Swirling in a counter-clockwise direction, they were knit together
    expertly and it was nearly impossible to tell where one whorl ended
    and the next began. This, Eliel had once explained, was
    representative of the sacred belief that all members of a clan were
    merely part of a single entity. Individuals were given the freedom
    to live as they would, so long as it was never forgotten that they
    were part of a whole. The tribe came first on Cuan. The sentiment,
    he realized suddenly, ran r
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