About Last Night
The orange light bursting through the wooden slats was not just bright; it was
intense and searing. Brain frying.
Groaning, Obi-Wan Kenobi squeezed his eyes closed, desperate to shield against
the intrusive light. Lash framed eyelids felt paper thin against the early
morning glow bringing a sharp pain to his already aching head. The grunt of
earlier turned to a whimper as a sluggish hand came up. The shadow that fell
across his closed eyes brought a small sigh of relief.
No, he growled. Too early.
After a few moments that felt suspiciously like hours, Obi-Wan opened his eyes
just a little, still under the protection of his hand. Were the light a laser,
it would melt away his muddled brain and he quickly squeezed his eyes closed again.
From the round meditation seat that he was sitting cross-legged on, he pushed himself to the edge and rose to his feet.
Too fast.
Even with his eyes closed, the room was spinning. He sank back to the edge of
the cushion. So he decided to just sit there, at least until the floor quit
moving.
Off in the distance, the steady beat of drums pulsed through the walls filling
the chamber. The vibrations echoed in his already aching head causing another
pained groan. Pressing his palms to his ears he desperately wanted the sound to
go away.
More importantly, he wanted the piercing light to disappear. Rising to his feet
again, he stumbled forward toward the semi-shielded light wall.
The wooden slats that controlled the amount of illumination from the natural
light conduit that covered the narrow wall of the small chamber snapped shut
with the strike of a heavy hand. A muted, golden glow was all the remained and
for the moment, it was more than enough.
Now if he could just get whoever was beating the drums to stop, all would be
fine.
Turning away from the wall, he slowly opened his eyes. A deep sigh met the
sight of the quiet meditation chamber. Moving at a sluggish pace, he trod back
to the meditation seat and sank to the soft padding.
In the soft orange glow of the room, he studied its plain features but could
not discern where in the
But wherever this was, it was poorly placed. How any right-minded beings could
meditate with those drums constantly banging was beyond him. Then again, at the
moment, he did not really care. Resting his elbows on his knees, he buried his
face in his hands. It was not just his head that felt like a herd of banthas had stormed through, strangely his whole body hurt.
Drawing his tongue slowly across his bottom lip, he discovered a sweet, sticky
taste. It had an addictive, fruity flavor that begged for more as he sought out
the remnants of the dried juice. It was so familiar.
From where?
Then it occurred to him. He had no idea why he was in that meditation chamber,
let alone where it was. Sitting up again, he sniffed at the recycled air and
caught a hint of freshness, of dirt. The rich smell of flora permeated the
parts of the
At least, that was what he thought he smelled. He did not dare trust anything
at that moment. Shifting about on the cushion, he looked for any other
identifying markers of his whereabouts. A dull pain stretched over his right
shoulder blade nearly touching the left. The surprise made him retreat back
into a less strenuous position.
Oh not good, he whispered, sensing bruises and swelling, another question
without an answer. Staring down his front, Obi-Wan tugged at his rumpled tunic.
It looked worse than slept in. A glimpse of rich color caught his attention and
he twisted his arm revealing green stains at the elbow. Checking the other
side, he found matching smudges. More green at his knees and down to his sock
covered feet. My boots, he mumbled, wiggling his toes under the off-white
cloth.
Wheres my boots, he muttered a second time, twisting about looking for the
errant footwear.
The drums seemed to intensify.
Pressing his hands to his stained trews, a soft smile
painted his lips. At least he still had his pants on.
Panic bubbled up through him. Now why wouldnt he have his pants on? It was
made all the more frightening by the fact he couldnt remember what happened to
get him to the meditation chamber. He remembered leaving the small apartment he
shared with Anakin
Anakin!
On his sock covered feet, he was moving forward, desperate to avoid the roil of nausea and little white spots that gripped him.
On the wall opposite the light conduit was a simple cover, painted the same
deep red hue as the rest of the chamber. Pressing lightly on it, it popped open
revealing a hidden communications station. All meditation chambers had them in
case of emergencies.
Fingers hovered centimeters from the smooth keypad as his scrambled brain tried
to remember how to dial his own apartment. Taking far longer than he would have
wished, he managed to connect the right numbers and waited for the call to go
through.
Brushing through a thick mop of ginger locks, as he then pushed back gold spun
strands from his face. Pick up, he whispered, leaning heavily against the
cool wall. The last thing he remembered was instructing Anakin to finish his
studies before working on the cleaning droid he had found wandering the
corridors with a bad motivator.
The call went unnoted.
A heavy sigh escaped the Jedi as he disconnected the call. Spying the time
stamp, he just shook his head. It was early morning and Anakin likely would be
in class. Brushing over the slick illuminated control pad, he checked his
messages and found one waiting.
Calling it up, the chipper face of his young padawan
hovered before the panel. Morning, Master! the boy happilyand
loudlyannounced.
Anakin had to be doing it on purpose.
The blue image of the spiky haired youth grinned as if he knew the older Jedis
thoughts. Hope you enjoyed the party last night. Must have, you didnt make it
back. Laughter pealed from the recording.
Obi-Wan searched for the volume controls.
Ive got to go to class, the apprentice chirped. I want to hear all about
last night when I get back.
Shutting the image down, Obi-Wan rested with his head pressed to the wall. A
deep frown tugged at his lips and he chose not to fight the obvious display of
emotion.
Party? There was no party. Just a get together in the
Star Lounge among some of his agemates, all young
knights whose schedules happened to have them all at the Temple at the same
time. It was not a party, just a group of friends hanging out and visiting.
There was not a party. Not that he could remember.
Pushing back from the wall, he trudged a few steps forward; stopping he broke
into a wide smile at the sight of his boots. Thought you would hide from me,
huh? he asked. He chose to ignore the fact he was talking to inanimate
objects. He was alone and there was no one to look at him like he was crazy.
He was not crazy.
At least, he didnt think. He couldnt remember.
Falling to the edge of the meditation seat with a grunt, the Jedi came to a
rest next to his boots lying in a heap on the floor. Fingers pressed to his temples
but the pain did not ease. Nor did that infernal beating of
drums.
Grabbing up one of the boots, he carefully slipped it on over dingy-bottomed
socks. It looked as if he had been wandering from one end of the
He froze, and then allowed his foot to slide to the floor, the boot heel
smacking the tile with a thud. Those werent drums. Pressing a hand to his
forehead, he listened to the even beat, the soft swoosh of blood coursing
through his veins.
If only it would stop. Just long enough to make the pain in his head go away.
Going boneless, Obi-Wan fell back on the wide, round seat,
allowing his head to lop backward over the edge. The golden light
slipping through the slats did not hurt his brain too much as he stared blankly
at them for some time.
He needed to get up.
And a shower would be nice, a stay in a very long, hot shower to ease the burn
in his right shoulder. Oh, yes, that would be nice.
Resting his hand across his abdomen, he brushed across the wrinkled material of
his tunic and obi.
Where was his utility belt?
Shifting his head from one side to the next, he searched for the other piece of
his clothing he somehow had misplaced but it was not immediately visible.
Propping himself up on his elbows, he spied the tall fern in the corner.
Hanging out of the wide-rimmed clay pot was the familiar form of his missing
belt.
Relieved, he sank back to the cushion. At least, he would not have to explain
loosing his lightsaber in the
The brief thought of raiding Bants office in the
No, he had more important things to do.
Sitting upalbeit very slowlyhe pulled on the other boot,
and then retrieved his utility belt. A quick check for his lightsaber and he was quickly beginning to recover even if
he didnt remember anything that happened in the Star Lounge.
Moving slowly, he made his way to the door. He just had to keep reminding
himself of the important thingsshower, clean clothing and something strong to
snap him back to life.
Just before palming the door open, he paused and looked back into the dimly lit
room.
Where was his cloak?
While Obi-Wans stride was a little shorter, his step missing the
usual confidence, he kept his head high as he marched through the busy
corridors of the
Even if he was positive the drums pounding in his head could be heard by
everyone within a hundred meter radius.
Rounding a corner, he found himself briefly alone as he passed through the
meeting areas. The corridors had seemed extra busy today, but he was sure that
was normal and he was feeling a little paranoid about his somewhat disheveled
appearance. Rough hands tugged at his tabards, brushing over the noticeable
wrinkles.
Obi-Wan now realized that he should have headed straight for his apartment and
a shower. Fresh clothing and the feeling of being put together would have been
better for trekking through the
He also would have felt more like a human being and less like something stuck
to the bottom of his boot. But, it was more important, at the moment, to
retrieve his cloak. Obi-wan knew he would feel better once it was back in his
possession.
The walk through the vast and labyrinthine corridors of the ancient ziggurat
had enlivened him, pulling himever so slowly--from the early morning funk. His
brain was still muddled, but he was beginning to function normally again. Even
the events of the night before, which had been hidden under a veil of darkness,
had begun to push through. No long a fuzzy dark blob, but a fuzzy light blob.
Passing a two female knights, who were quietly
visiting as the traveled the wide corridor, he offered a cordial nod. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at
all.
Except the giggles.
It did not take awesome Jedi powers to figure he was the source of their
laughter. Of course, he would be more willing to pass the blame on a joke
whispered between the two women, but it was the third time since leaving the
mediation chamber that such joyful noise filled the halls after his passing.
It was nearly impossible to ignore it, especially when all he wanted to do was
turn and ask why. Spinning about, he sought the two knights but found that had
already vanished around a corner.
Maybe it was better, he decided, he wasnt really sure he wanted to know the
answer.
Again, he tugged at his tunic trying to make it look a little less like it was
in serious need of laundering. A deep sigh built in his chest. The bright green
stains that colored his elbows and knees were another matter. He had no
explanation for them and little way of hiding them
until he could pull his cloak on to conceal the mess.
Where the stains had come from still eluded him in the fuzziness of his
memories.
Turning to continue his journey to the Star Lounge, he froze.
Master Kenobi, Depa Billaba
said, her deep painted lips drew into a smile. The Mark of Illumination
glittering in the various lights that filled the hall.
Master, Obi-Wan replied and then offered a shallow bow, fearful that he would
topple over onto the woman if he tried to bow too low. When he straightened he
found her dark eyes intensely studying him. She was grinning at him.
All he could do was offer a small, curious look. The one Bant
had dubbed his innocent face, although he had not been innocent in quite some
time. The thought inspired a small smile.
Depas cheeks turned a bright red and her grin,
heightened by his was quickly masked with a soft, tea colored hand that did
little to stifle her laugh. Her words trembled as she quickly excused herself
and rushed off in embarrassment.
Obi-Wan stood perfectly still, clueless to what he had done to inspire such a
reaction. Great deductive reasoning aside, a river stone could figure out he
was the source of laughter to many a female.
Backing up against the wall, he pressed his back to the unyielding surface. Fingers
pawed at the drifts of red and gold hair that brushed across his brow and down
over his beard, fearing he looked wild and grizzled afterafter what? He could
not remember the night before.
He was just a few turned from the Star Lounge. Just grab his cloak and then
raced back to the apartment. Maybe his memory would come back with a nice, long
hot shower.
A morning person was not really a good description for him. It was just too
early for him to be thinking straight. Yes, that was it.
Comfortable that he had explained his insecurities away, he stepped from the
safety of the wall and promptly bumped into the tall, Ki-Adi
Mundi. Forgive me, Master, Obi-Wan said and offered
another shallow bow. Embarrassment clung to his reddened features.
Mundi looked him over, frowned and shook his
cone-like forehead. He did not have to say anything for the younger Jedi to
sense disdain.
This time, Obi-Wan could feel the flush burning across his cheeks and decided
that enough was enough. Master
I have nearly forgotten those days, the gray haired Cerean
said with a smile. To be young and stupid again. He
tilted his head in a nod and walked off.
That did not make him feel any better. The young master brushed his hand over
his forehead wondering if he had stupid tattooed on it. I dont know what I
did, he mumbled as he continued through the passageways, but I better find
out soon.
It was still early
and the lounge area was still quiet. Gray walls rose up, sealing off the
various spaces for privacy as deep blue carpeting dampened the sounds of
footsteps in the wide corridors that threaded through the section.
Obi-Wan was grateful as he rounded the last corner and
saw that it was empty. The laughter that seemed to follow him about the
His cloak, a long, hot shower and a bite to eat, which was all he wanted. Except the low growl of his stomach threatened to change the order.
He was hungry, even if the sweet, fruity taste still clung to his lips.
He still couldnt place the taste though. It was addictive and he wished for
more than just the occasional glimpse.
A small grin graced his lips just a few steps from the door. He was home free.
And then Obi-Wan came to an abrupt stop.
Stepping through the high arched doorway and into the corridor was Mace Windu. The solemn expression on the tall masters face
melted into a friendly smile. The edges of his lips twitched and pulled wider.
Master Kenobi.
Master Windu, he appropriately replied before
leaning forward in a shallow bow. He could feel his brain sloshing around in
his skull, yet it did little to mute the drums. With a slow exhale; he
straightened, hoping to look cool and collected.
To his dismay, he found himself the subject of the dark skinned Jedis intense
study. Master?
Mace shook his head. It was obvious he was trying to stifle the smile. I was
just thinking. He nodded back toward the lounge. The high, overhead lighting
shined on his bald top. It appears someone had some fun last night. A wicked
grin bled across his features.
Really? the shorter Jedi asked, trying not to look too guilty.
I found the remains of a bunch of bizigrina
berries. There were stems all over the lounge, he added in a low growl.
Sternness flooded his face. Padawans better not have
been eating them or there will be hell to pay. After a lingering silence, Mace
laughed. I remember the first time I ate the little blue fruits. They were
delicious, filled with a sticky sweet juice. Completely
intoxicating. Memory painted his features. I couldnt get enough of
them, until the next morning when I woke up with a bit of a hangover.
Oh. Obi-Wan figured it was best to say as little as possible at the moment.
They are murder on the brain, Mace continued as he folded his arms across his
broad chest. Especially when you cant remember half of the
night before. The tall master eyed Obi-Wan again and cracked another
smile. Someone probably woke up with a surprise this morning. Serves them right. Assuming they were foolish enough to eat
more than one or two of the lust for life fruit.
That would be foolish. Obi-Wan lightly ran his tongue over his lips picking
up the taste of the now recognizable bizigrina
berries.
Oh yes, they were familiar now. He reached up and brushed fingers over the
flavor that still lingered. He wondered how many he had eaten.
And behavior befitting only a padawan.
Speaking with the solemn authority of a senior Council member, Mace asked, You
and Anakin go before the Council this afternoon, right?
Yes, Master, Obi-Wan replied, snapping back into the moment.
Mace just shook his head, suppressing another grin. He then slapped the younger
Jedi across the back and started down the corridor. See you in a few hours, Master
Kenobi.
Creeping silently
into the lounge, Obi-Wan carefully looked about the large, deep green furniture
filled room. He felt like a youngling fearful of being caught for breaking the
rules. But he wasnt a youngling, nor had he broken any rules. At least, he
didnt think so. The night before was still very fuzzy, but instead of being a
big dark blur, it was now a big light blur.
Still, after all the strange looks and reactions he had received since leaving
the meditation chamber, he would not be surprised to find Master Yoda sitting
there, wielding his gimer stick and launching into a
lecture on the proper behavior of a Jedi. Visually, he swept the chamber,
searching for the little green troll but saw no one. He would not reach for the
Force, his head hurt too much.
The smell of cleaning agents permeated the air and he suffered the urge to
cover his nose. Normally the citrus laden chemical smell did not bother him,
but this morning was very different.
The high-pitched whir of a cleaning bot caught his
attention. He strained to look through the maze of settees and benches, spying
the small, dome-shaped droid on scrubber feet working its way across the floor.
Curving black antennae rose out of the bright yellow casing, moving about and
scanning the area ahead.
Moving slowly about the chamber, Obi-Wan carefully searched for his errant
cloak. At first, he assumed it was just slung over the back of a chair, but
when it proved elusive, he searched the floor and any other obvious hiding
place.
After his third circuit of the room, a deep sigh escaped him and he sank to a
rounded sofa in the center of the chamber. Still not entirely giving up, he
sought out the seat he vaguely remembered sitting in the night before. Bant and Garen had been there. Others. Siri. He remembered talking about workouts. But he could not
remember if he had his cloak on at that point or not.
He had been so sure that it had been there.
Somewhere.
Burying his face in his hands, he just sat there; hoping the drums in his head
would subside. Reluctantly, he returned his thoughts back to the conversation
with Mace. It hurt to think. He just could not remember bizigrina
berries. There were a few finger foods, fruits and even drinks. But blue
berries? He knew what they were and would have abstained since the berries were
highly illegal for padawans to consume. It would not
be setting a good example for Anakin. Right? He
couldnt remember.
A soft groan escaped as the pounding in his head seemed to intensify. What
fool would name a fruit lust for life that made your head feel like it was
going to implode?
The only answer was the distant hum of the cleaning droid.
Someone had a sick sense of humor, he thought.
Calm flowed over his dulled mind as he tried to reach back into his memories
for the night before but was disrupted by a high-pitched squeal and an
irritated string of beeps. The sharp pain in his skull that accompanied the
terrible racket startled the young master. Her gripped his ears and squeezed
tearing eyes shut. Quiet, his voice trembled.
Drawing one eye slowly open, he stared down at the little cleaning droid. His
foot blocked the bots path. Little black antennae
waggled about as it studied the strange obstacle.
Go around, he growled.
He had a new project for Anakin, to create a maintenance droid without an
irritable personality.
His refusal to move his booted foot only inspired another blare and whistle
from the droid. Prying his hands from the side of his head, he stared at the
troublesome thing. Did you eat my cloak? he demanded,
certain that the troublesome machine may have done it out of spite.
A blip and a snarky whistle was all he received.
Planting his elbows back on his green stained knees, Obi-Wan buried his face in
his hands again. A soft groan filled the air as the mind shattering sounds of
the droid only added to the growing symphony in his head.
There were a few soft clicks and whirs, but he ignored them, hoping the droid
had decided to go around and continue with its duties.
Big mistake.
An electrical charge lit up his already frazzled nerves. He cried out in
surprise, jumping as voltage shot into his ankle and landed awkwardly on the
seat and tumbled off. He hit the floor with a thud and a pained moan as his
bruised back took another beating.
The pleased chirp of the droid, caused him to raise
his aching head just enough to see a small mechanical arm be retracted into the
yellow casing. A whir of motors and the droid was off again, the obstacle
removed.
The Night Before
Anakin had been left in the apartment with the most basic of instruction: study
and sleep. Obi-Wan could have assigned many other tasks for the youth before
leaving, but he had little doubt the two would prove to be difficultif not
impossibleto follow.
All he hoped, for one night at least, that Anakin did not raise the ire of the
The Star Lounge hummed with soft voices, the occasional burst of laughter and
the general good cheer of the occupants. Good fortune had left many young
knights
To add to the evening was a splendor of drinks, fruits and small finger foods.
Not to mention a few exotic items carried in by several of the guests.
Obi-Wan had spent the better part of two hours mingling among agemates, catching up and reminiscing about the past. Occasionally snacking on a fat koab nut
or wedge of pinat fruit.
Excusing himself from one chat, he walked over to the food table and poured a
glass of dark amber bock. After a sip of the rich drink, he wandered through
the various gatherings, smiling and exchanging greetings with the newly
arrived.
On a dark green settee, just off the center of chamber center, he spied his
childhood friend, Bant. A salmon hand held a glass of
deep red juice that she quietly nursed as her attentions appeared focused on
the figure kneeling on the floor before her. Obi-Wan smiled at the sight as he
closed in. Garen Muln spoke
animatedly, his hands flying about highlighting his words.
In all the years that he had known Bant, she had
never shown much interest in space travel or ships, likening it to a male
fixation. She rarely had use for such things except when she needed to get from
one place to another, which as a student healer was rare. Yet, she patiently
humored Garen, whose life revolved around piloting
and testing new craft.
Of course, the distant, glazed look in her silvery eyes told Obi-Wan that she
needed rescuing.
You are boring the poor girl to death, Obi-Wan teased as he slipped down into
the seat next to Bant. The healer shifted, happily
propping herself up against him. He grinned at his still crouching friend while
taking a drink of bock.
Boring? Garen asked, his green eyes sparkling with
pretend hurt. He reached up and rubbed his clean-shaven chin. Hrmf.
No, not quite boring, Bant was quick to correct,
waving a pink hand before bringing it up to hide her face in mock horror. Scaring,
is a better word.
A grunt, akin to a sound Master Yoda would make, escaped the dark haired Jedi.
You just dont know how to have fun like Obi and I do.
Taking a slow draught of the bock, Obi-Wan looked over the crystalline rim at Garens grinning face. Yes, but I would never try to land
an A-wing inside an open munitions bay, either.
Now that was an accident, the pilot said as he shifted and sat
cross-legged on the floor across from his two friends. Youre sounding old.
Obi-Wan frowned. No, Ive just flown through too many power couplings.
The entire room seemed to wince with his comment.
The pained look on Garens face was more than worth
the momentary awkward silence. The ginger haired knight smiled as he brushed
back loose strands that hung over his brow and took another drink.
Bant snickered between sips of juice. Patting his
shoulder, she said, Of course, he didnt actually do the flying.
Smirking, the Jedi of the floor said, I heard about the most recent one at the
With a grimace, Obi-Wan shook his head. That was not the last one. He still
hurt thinking about it. Last week, Anakin tried to take a short-cut through
the Industrial Straights in the Azaka Sector.
Again, Garen winced. He shifted his gaze passed Obi-Wans shoulder briefly. Stealing a small smile, he focused
on his friend once more.
They need to revoke his license, Bant said.
Humorless laughter escaped Obi-Wan. He doesnt have one. He then leaned back
against the tall backed chair, his head resting against the smooth cushion. It
felt good for the break, but a small part of him wished the conversation would
turn away from Anakin. He was not solely Anakins master; he was his own person
and a Jedi, too.
Oh, you do, huh? Garen said loudly. A wicked grin
punctuated his words. Would Siri agree?
Obi-Wan just looked down at the mischievous look that graced his friends face.
What?
The confusion quickly bled away.
That is what I was about to ask, Siri Tachis purred from behind him.
He could feel her fiery aura radiating out like a star. Shifting his head, he
looked up to see the blond haired Jedi staring down at him. Her pale painted
lips drew into a small smile. Hello, he said, hoping she did not take Garen seriously. It had been months since he had seen her.
She had let her hair grow out. A funny realization flowed over him; he missed
their late night sparring matches. Maybe, with a little luck, they could get a
few sessions in while they were both
Sounding way too chipper, Garen spoke up again,
Obi-Wan was just telling us how he regularly wipes
the floor with you in sparring.
He could feel Bant slide away from him on the settee.
I said no such
Really? Siri asked.
Obi-Wan sensed his life was in terrible jeopardy and wondered if he should flee
now or take his chances and wait.
Oh, yes, his soon-to-be ex-friend added. Obi was saying how he enjoyed the
easy matches.
You are a dead man, he whispered before emptying his glass in a quick
draught. He didnt want to spill it when Siri
murdered him. Tingles raced down his spine as he felt long fingertips dance
through his thick hair. He just knew she was going to rip of chunk of out of
his head. I never said anything like that.
Bant snickered. Hes afraid you will hurt him.
He should be, Siri said, leaning over the bench so
he could see the wicked look on her face. He tried to duck down, but she was
quick and kept her fingers dancing over his skull.
Sounding more like a youngling, he responded, Im not afraid ofhey, thats
attached! He quickly reached up gabbing her wrist,
desperate to rescue his hair as she tugged on a chunk of it.
Garen burst into laughter. I was just teasing. He
slapped his knee and looked up at Siri. But you two
need to get into more of a routine.
Oh? she asked; her fingers still entangled in hair while he still held her
wrist.
Hes been getting quite a paunch.
Since when did this become pick on Obi-Wan night? the besieged Jedi asked.
Bant blinked curiously at him. Because
Garens not as much fun to pick on?
Releasing his hair, Siri pulled from his grip and
shifted behind him, but did not step around the settee. You know I take it
easy on him. Hes quite complacent and is not as quick as he used to be. He
just thinks he is winning.
I think I liked it better when I was wiping the floor with you, Obi-Wan
grumbled. Feeling a little braver that he wasnt going to get a bald patch, he
added, Your inability to counter balance makes it all too
The last words were indistinguishable mumbles as a juicy blue berry was shoved
into his mouth. It was sweet, yet sour at the same time. His taste buds
exploded with a new sensation.
He barely noticed Siri wrapping her arms over his
shoulders. Her face hovered close to his as she pressed another small berry
into his mouth. He made a happy sound as the second, delicious fruit exploded
when he bit down on it. Good, but I
Offering up a third, delectable berry, she teasingly brushed it across his lips
but pulled it back when he tried to bite it. Shh,
dont talk, she said as she let him have the fruit. I will have to hurt you.
For more of those lovely, juicy berries, he would not say another word, except,
Mmm.
Cant counter balance, she growled and fed Obi-Wan another. We will see
about that.
Reaching back,
Obi-Wan pressed the heels of his palms to his temples, desperate to push back
the deep thud of the drums. He did not try to sit up, hoping the blood would
not have to work so hard to get to his brain if he remained lying down.
The thrush of blood through his veins, the constant thunder inspired a soft
groan that was immediately answered by the rude chirp of the cleaning droid as
it passed near the fallen Jedi.
Oh, be quiet, he grunted and then propped himself up on his elbows. From his
new vantage point, he tried to look along the floor, under the legs of the
benches hoping to find his cloak. It could have been shoved up under a seat for
some reason or another. If it did not hurt so bad, he
would have shook his head at the silly thought. He was just reaching. On the
other hand, he really did not want to have to requisition a new cloak, or have
to explain that he somehow managed to lose his within the
The white of the high vaulted ceiling and the low hanging lights in their
silvery globes made him wince. It seemed terribly bright, more so than usual.
In the globes, he spied to droids yellow casing trolling about the room.
There was also something red glinting off the reflective surface. He squinted
but the tiny object did not come into focus. Curious, he rolled onto his knees
and used the curved seat as a brace to help him stand up. Straightening, he had
to pause as the room spun about. The rush nearly sent him tumbling back to the
floor. Not good, he whispered, reaching for the chair and balancing with it.
Once the room settled down, he started around the furniture to where he
suspected the red object that had captured his attention was lying. Rounding a
settee, red and gold glittered in the pale lighting. It was an aristois shaped hair clip. The delicate petals were created
by some of Alderaans finest artists in the Vurais Marketplace. The way the clip was sitting on the
floor, he could just see the green leaves and the thorny stem that encircled
the base.
He was quit familiar with it and its owner.
After a sparring session where he had got a hold of Siris
braided hair, she had started to wear that little trinket to keep it back and
out of his reach. The thorns were quite sharp. Even though Obi-Wan could
remember something from months ago, the night before was still muddled. He
could not remember if she had been wearing the clip or not.
At least, he was not the only one to lose something during the evening. Taking
his time, he slowly crouched and reached for the piece of jewelry.
Just as his fingers brushed the cool metal, a string of angry beeps and
whistles tore into his brain. Instinctively, he tried to shelter his ears from
the violent assault, only to watch the cleaning bot
rush in and sweep the hair clip up in its whirling brushes.
That is not trash, Obi-wan growled and started to reach for the troublesome bot only to have it blurt a rude and almost mocking noise
before it took off. He watched as it returned to its cleaning duties. Slowly
rising to his feet, the unhappy Jedi followed after the yellow troublemaker.
Just as he was on it, the droid turned about and squealed in agitation. Popping
open a compartment door, a small arm extended from the domed case. Purple arced
about the forked end as it stabbed at the Jedi.
Not wishing to be shocked again, Obi-Wan retreated a
step, then another and another. He could feel the electricity charging the air
every time the maintenance bot lunged at him.
Careful, he said as he was driven across the large chamber. The prongs
connected with his ankle and he let out a pained cry. Stop that!
But the droid did not listen, propelled forward by its brushes as it went after
the human that had disrupted its work.
Chased up onto one of the settees, Obi-Wan balanced on the cushions as the
maniacal bot circled like a predator that had
cornered its prey.
From his new position, he spied the maintenance panel on the backside of the
domed body. Knowing that if he deactivated it, he could dump the
cleaning bag and save Siris hair clip. She
would want it back. Just let me have the aristois
clip back, he said in tired. Please?
Without a sound, the droid spun so its back and the control panel faced the
Jedi. After a bit of hesitation, he cautiously climbed down from the settee.
Drawing a deep breath, he reached out.
The droid spun and zapped him.
Yelping, Obi-Wan stumbled, falling onto the settee. As the droid raced toward
him, he quickly climbed back up, balancing on the soft cushions. His right hand
was held in a babying grip as a large red welt started to form. If you dont
be good, Ill sic Anakin on you, hissed as the burn laced up his arm and into
his battered brain.
The droid let out a shrill cry and tried to shock him again, but he moved out
of the way of the purple arcs.
With a deep exhale; he reached to his side, grabbing his lightsaber.
The bright azure blade burst to life as he held it forward in a defensive
stance. It was not the most dignified of poses, but it was the best he could
while standing on a chair.
The cleaning bot froze.
Smiling, he asked, Not so brave now, are you?
The Night Before
Now that is just sad.
I know.
No, not sad, thats disgusting.
Almost as disgusting as when a Uyahlanza padawan threw up on me.
No, this is worse.
Youve never been puked on by a Uyahlanza. Things
that they have been digesting for months comes up,
there was a shudder in Bant Eerins
voice as she remembered the mess.
I was puked on by Obi-Wan once.
You win.
Of course I win, Garen said with a laugh. Ghangi fruit.
At least it wasnt blue.
Red.
That is better than blue.
True, but it stains just as bad.
Bant snickered. Do you think he knows what those
berries are?
Im not entirely sure he cares.
Youre probably right.
Hes going to regret it tomorrow. Garen laughed
softly. My question is: why arent we having fun too?
Because we want to see what Siri is going to do to
him?
Youre right.
Dont be silly, I am always right.
Yet, you can say it was a straight face. Ow! No hitting!
Wimp. Bant waved a salmon fist at the
cringing man on the bench next to her.
You break me, you have to fix me.
The healer just grinned.
Dont hurt me, Garen pleaded.
Bant looked back at the subject of their attentions
and winced. Oh, thats gross!
Hes either brave or crazy.
You know, Siri can hear you.
She wouldnt hurt me, the dark haired knight said bravely.
Shes a little preoccupied tonight.
Lucky
Hes going to hate himself in the morning.
Why? He wont remember tonight.
Bant snickered. What do you think she is going to do
to him?
Waving his hand toward the settee across from them, he said, I dont know, but
lets hope it is not as disgusting as that is.
I can hear you, Obi-Wan happily spoke up from his very relaxed position,
stretched across the seat, feet hanging over the edge. His head comfortably
resting in Siris lap as the female Jedi tended to
his needs.
Shh, Siri pressed,
feeding him another juicy berry. Long fingers danced through his thick hair,
brushing back the spun gold strands that brushed against his forehead. Eat.
That was not a problem. The lovely, sweet taste teased his senses and tingled in
his brain. Staring up into her bright blue eyes, he thought he caught a hint of
mischief but the sight of her plucking another berry from the bunch robbed him
of any suspicions. Offering up a sloppy grin, he begged, More.
As you wish, she purred, teasing him with the delectable fruit. She brushed
it across his lips again, the tip of his tongue licking the dark fruit just
before she pulled it out of his reach again.
Obi-Wan gave a little whimper when she withheld the berry.
Aw, does Obi want more? Siri asked as she brushed
her hand down over his chin, his neck, tickling the sensitive skin at the base
of his throat.
He chuckled as her fingers delved beneath the layers of his cream colored
tunic. Tickles, he whispered, but his attention was on the blue berry
dangling centimeters from his mouth.
Exploring fingers brushed through curls of gingery chest hairs. A wicked smile
painted her face as she fed him the blue fruit. As soon as you are fat and
happy on berries, we are going to spar. Well see who wipes the floor with
whom.
It really is too bad he wont remember this tomorrow, Bant
said.
Garen grinned. We should get holos.
Things were
starting to come into focus. Obi-Wan remembered that the little gathering had
moved to an exhibition room at some point. He vaguely remembered the high
viewing decks that surrounded the floor.
They had gone to watch a sparring match. He just couldnt remember whose.
It was so silly, he thought as he marched through the busy corridors of the
Except for the loud, irritated squeals of an angry cleaning
droid that still rattled about his battered brain.
His cloak was probably lying among the benches on the viewing deck. It was an
easy place to forget it. After all, he had done that before while caught up in
the excitement of an exhibition. He had been a padawan
at the time though, and he could not remember what it was he had viewed. But
that was a long time ago.
Long strides carried him past smiling Jedi and concerned looks. He tried to
ignore both, but still wondered what it was he had done to deserve such looks.
If only he could remember.
In one hand he happily clutched the aristois hair
comb and under the other arm, he clutched the irritable yellow cleaning bot. Its brush feet spun around wildly, but there was no
floor for it to grip. A melted stub was all that remained of its tool arm and
it shifted about helplessly. The dented and scorched yellow casing was dim
under the bright lighting.
Obi-Wans ginger locks ruffled from battle and waved
in the breeze created by his quick pace.
He should have killed its sound box. The beeps and whistles were eating into
his brain.
Desperate to block out the pained cries of the angry droid, he silently berated
himself. How could he have been so stupid? He stripped off his cloak during the
sparring match. At least now, he knew where his errant cloak had got off too.
Now he could find food and a long, hot shower.
Rounding a corner in the wide hallway filled with padawans
racing to and from lessons, he paused at a recycle chute. Catching the eye of a
grizzled Bothan master, one whom he remember had often visited with Qui-Gon,
Obi-Wan smiled. Master Kuratz.
Morning, the curious Jedi said, eyeing the younger with an incredulous
expression.
Ignoring the strange look, Obi-Wan tucked the comb inside the folds of his
tunic. He offered up a bright grin then shoved the screaming bot into the recycling chute.
Kuratz retreated a step.
Once the troublesome bot had vanishedits cries
muffled as it fell toward the recycle centerthe still smiling young master
brushed back his hair with the sweep of a hand and retrieved Siris comb. Droids, he said with a motion toward the
opening in the wall. You never know when a loose wire will fry the whole
thing.
Strings of angry beeps and whistles bled from his mind and he marched off
toward the practice level. He
had a cloak
to retrieve.
The Night Before
I love you.
Yes, I am sure you do.
No, really. I love you, Obi-Wan said with a sloppy grin as a firm hand guided
him through the gently curving corridors of the quiet
I know.
The well-fed Jedi stumbled a little. Do you love me?
Well
Without hesitation, he leaned toward his helper and planted a juicy kiss on Garens cheek.
Garen cried out in disgust. Yuck! He quickly
brushed a hand over his cleanly shaven face. Its
sticky.
And blue, Bant said before stifling a fit of
laughter.
Disgust bled over the tall knights handsome features. He twisted, looking back
over his shoulder at Siri, who quietly followed. She
was playing with a bunch of deep blue berries. What have you done to him?
Loosing his footing again, Obi-Wan stumbled forward only to be caught by his
friend and held up. He shifted and gave the healer a drunken, blue-tinged
smile. I love you.
And I love you, too, the smiling Mon Cal said as she reached out and brushed
webbed fingers through his soft beard. She shook her head and continued to
tease, Too bad you wont remember any of this tomorrow.
I love you, Obi-Wan happily repeated.
She petted the top of his head. I hope you dont remember any of this. She
frowned and looked back at a very pleased Siri Tachi. Where did those berries come from anyway?
Sprite laughter echoed through the wide corridor. The blond Jedi held a hand up
to her mouth masking a mischievous look. Ferus and I
went down to the Jinae Market earlier today. When Bant frowned, she added, I did not intend on feeding them
all to Obi-Wan. It just sort of happened.
Bant just looked at her.
It was Garens fault.
Mine? the tall man bellowed as he struggled to keep his friend from wandering
off into a side corridor. Someone is going to have to put a leash on him. No
telling where he will end up.
That could be fun, Siri purred.
Garen leaned into Bant and
whispered, Do you have any spare straightjackets lying around? Preferably two? He jerked to the side as his charge pulled
free. Hey!
Marching a few steps, Obi-Wan came to an abrupt stop. He wavered slightly, and
then pointed at the tall Cerean Jedi whose path he
was blocking. I love you, he announced.
Ki-Adi Mundi just looked at
the silly, grinning human.
I love you, Obi-Wan repeated. Do you
Slapping a hand over Obi-Wans mouth, Garen quickly stifled the question. Wrapping his arm about
his charges, he pulled Obi-Wan back. Sorry about that, Master. Obi-Wans not feeling well.
Do tell? Mundi arched a bushy white brow as he
folded his arms across his chest looking every bit the stern Council Member.
I love you, Obi-Wan mumbled through the large hand that covered his mouth as
he was dragged backwards.
He just needs to sleep it off, Bant said, trying to
sound professional.
Unfortunately, the older Jedi did not look very impressed.
Shifting about, Garen faced Obi-Wan toward the wall.
Stay.
The happy Jedi looked at the rough, gray textured wall and announced, I love
you. He reached up and patted the cool stone.
Mundi shifted his gaze at the sorry sight and then
shook his head. See that someone keeps an eye on him until the effects of the bizigrina wears off. He is liable to become very ill on
them if he is not used to eating the fruit.
We will, Bant said quickly while reaching out and
grabbing her friends wrist before he wandered off again. Once Ki-Adi Mundi had left, the healer
turned to the other female in the group. You get to baby-sit
him all night.
The pleased
feeling had begun to fade the deeper into the
Nervously, he brushed his hand over his beard, fearful that it looked as wild
as his head still felt mushy. Not stopping there, he at the front of his
wrinkled tunic hoping to smooth it out.
Did he really look that bad? He wondered.
The concern was growing. Strange looks and politely hidden frowns of padawans was not something he enjoyed, nor was the confused
looks of some knights and masters.
Trying to put on the air of normalcy, he held his head high and tried to carry
an even gait as he entered the training facilities. A Twilek
master and her padawan were in the corridor near the
gateway speaking softly. He nodded casually at the green skinned Jedi; they had
met occasionally in the corridors and always exchanged polite greetings. The
woman grinned before nodding back.
The stifled giggles of her padawan only sent him
reeling. He frowned but kept walking and wishing he knew what he had done to
give so many such entertainments. His head was starting to hurt again.
Just as he reached the gateway to the training center, he stopped in the middle
of the corridor and stared up at the high arching gateway. A vast labyrinth lay
before him and his missing cloak could be in any one of a hundred rooms. He
reached back and massaged the back of his neck and along the edges of a large
bruise that marred his back.
Exhaling slowly and closing his eyes, he tried to conjure up images of the
night before while he twisted Siris hair clip about
in his hands. Vague memories floated to the surface of him holding a wooden
training stick and laughter, a lot of laughter. He furrowed his brow, trying to
make sense of the bits and pieces that drifted through his mind.
Are you all right, Master Kenobi? a soft female voice asked but the words
were barely noticed.
The touch of a concerned hand to his snapped him back into the moment. He
curiously blinked at Adi Gallia who stared at him
with a worried expression. She was not in her usual, formal attire, but instead
dressed in workout clothing. A deep brown scarf that held her long hair back
during her practices replaced the Toloth headdress
she commonly wore.
Master, he said quickly, offering a shallow bow before straightening.
The dark eyed Jedi smiled but her intense gaze did not falter.
At least, Obi-Wan dully thought, she was not laughing at him. Except, it felt
like she was staring straight through him, that she could see what he was so
desperate to hidea bizigrina berry addled brain.
Her hand lingered on his shoulder. You do not look well, she said softly,
oblivious to the curious stares of passing beings.
Flashing a weary smile that only incited the drums in his
head to pound harder, he said, I am fine. A hesitant
beat. I was justjust trying to remember where I leftsomething.
The owner of the comb, perhaps? she asked in a strangely knowing voice.
Surprise blushed his cheeks and he could feel the burn
as he looked down at the flower decorated hair comb he was holding. I
You might want to check the Blue Observation Room, Adi
interrupted. I believe there was quite a bit of entertainment there last
evening. Her hand drifted from his shoulder down his arm and over tense
muscles before slowlyalmost reluctantlybeing withdrawn.
The Blue room? he asked before registering that it was a small exhibition
chamber surrounded by viewing decks. He could not imagine what sort of entertainment
would fill the chamber the Master could be speaking of.
She smiled again, but it was tinted with great amusement. Laughter lit her deep
brown eyes as she put words to his confusion. The performance you and Knight Tachi put on last night was quite, there was a horrifying
pause, interesting.
The fire that flushed his cheeks was quickly dampened by ice that laced down
his spine. The drums in his brain double-timed it to match the thundering of
his heart. Unconsciously, he raised a hand and pressed it to his chest. He
wanted to grab a wall, fearing he would keel over. Interesting? he squeaked.
Adi allowed a small giggle before regaining her
composure. Mmm, she purred, quite. She retreated a step and whispered under her breath, Ive never
thought much of the scent of aristois before.
Tightening his hand over the metal petals of the comb, he repeated, The blue
room.
Delighted laughter filled the corridor as the Master turned and briskly stalked
away, leaving the dazed Jedi alone.
Is there no mercy? he asked to the air, praying for a quick answer to
whatever foolishness he had committed the night before.
The Night Before
Bant Eerin leaned over the
heavy rails of the gallery above the practice floor. Her silvery eyes followed Siri from the bench covered in cloaks and the remains of
the bunch of berries. The knight stalked barefooted across the floor, bearing a
wooden practice sword in one hand and a couple of the dark fruit in the other.
Siri tossed one of the berries toward Obi-Wan who
stood in the center of the deep blue practice floor. He easily leaned forward
and caught it in his mouth. The female Jedi laughed before munching on the two
she was still holding.
Dont hurt him! Bant called down in warning.
Sapphire eyes flashed. You wont let us use lightsabers!
she shot back. A few powerful swipes of the practice stick charged the air with
a soft whooshing sound. These are for initiates, she grumbled.
Offering Garen, who sat next to her an irritated
look, the healer called out again, Thats because you might as well be
fighting one! She motioned toward the other being on the floor. Speaking
softer, Shes going to kill him.
He can fend for himself, Garen replied.
Oh, really?
He is a competent swordsman, Adi Gallia said from
behind the two friends. She was one of many knights and masters who had
filtered in moments after the foursome had entered.
Anytime an exhibition chamber was opened, it was an invitation for a show.
Bant just shook her head. Hes been eating bizigrina for the last several hours.
Sitting next to Adi was Depa
Billaba who groaned at the healers admission. Oh, that poor, stupid man.
Oblivious that he was the subject of conversation; Obi-Wan intensely studied
the practice weapon. Gripping the thinner, blade-like end, he swung the thick
hilt about crudely.
Glancing over her shoulder at her opponent, Siri
sighed loudly at the dismal sight. A loud huff escaped her as she marched
across the floor and grabbed the swinging weapon. Pulling it from his hand, she
twisted it about and offered up the hilt to the confused Jedi, pressing it into
his open palm. Hold this end.
Obi-Wan beamed as he took the proffered weapon. His fingers
brushing along her softer flesh as she withdrew her hand. Ah, that
makes much more sense. He loved the touch of the little calluses on the pads
of her hand from a lifetime of saber training.
Just as he started to reach for her hand, she leaned in and patted his furry
jaw line. Doesnt it?
A new sensation flooded his brain. The intoxicating scent of freshly blooming aristois that wrapped around Siri
like a fragrant aura. Stepping into her space, he drew in a whiff that set his
berry drunk brain on fire. Lovely, he whispered, the only word he could put
to the wealth of feelings that welled up inside.
The blond Jedi quickly retreated from him. We are here to spar, she
announced, her voice strong and formal, unmoved by his bold response.
A rustle of material as more bodies filled the stands drew Obi-Wans brief attention. Armed with a silly grin, he waved at
his two friends and elicited chuckles from the gallery.
A myriad of soft voices swept through the onlookers.
How many do you think he has eaten?
Someone should put him to bed before he embarrasses himself.
This should be interesting.
A show!
That poor, stupid human.
Bant wrung her hands together. Shes going to hurt
him.
Depa laughed and looked about the gallery before
pressing a comforting hand to the Mon Cals shoulder.
It is a good thing, then that we have a healer on hand.
I dont know, Adi spoke up. I think Knight Tachi has had more than her share of the fruit, too.
Still laughing, the Chalactan master added, This
will be entertaining at the very least.
Garen leaned against the thick rail. Come on, Obi!
he called out. Dont let a girl beat you!
Siri pointed her practice stick toward the gallery in
a threatening manner. You want to be next?
Sinking back to his seat, the tall human said, But you might hurt me.
A round of laughter filled the chamber.
The female Jedi grinned wickedly before turning her focus to Obi-Wan again. He
was staring at his toes. Whistling to draw his attention, she ordered, Come
on.
Obi-Wan looked up as she stepped into her first attack. The wooden sword popped
him on the top of the head. Giant tears sprouted from tightly closed eyes as he
let out a yelp before dropping the practice sword and clutching his wounded
head. Ow. No fair, he cried. Tears flowed down his
cheeks and into his beard as he knelt down, blindly reaching for the stick.
Horror painted Siris features as she quickly stepped
forward. Im so
The apology turned into a startled cry as Obi-Wan responded in kind. Snatching
up the wooden sword, he caught her by the back of the leg and sent her rolling
across the floor.
Bubbling laughter echoed about the stone chamber as a few claps added to the
din.
Springing back to her feet, she met her opponent. You
Made my head hurt, he grumbled, straightening too quickly and stumbled
backward while still clutching his ginger head.
Fire lit her eyes as she stepped forward ready to engage him once more. Im
not feeling sorry for you again. A whoosh from of her practice sword as it
sung through that air as she drove it toward him.
The snap and clatter of wooden blades echoed through the room silencing the
audience. Obi-Wan met her attacks easily. The expert fighters carried the duel
across the floor, matched only by the inefficiency of their strikes.
In a matter of moves, Obi-Wan had her on the defensive, driving her across the
smooth surface. He nearly had her backed up against the wall when she arched
her back, Siri ducked under a powerful sweep of the
stick. Going all the way over, she pressed a palm to the floor and kicked up.
Her bare heel connected firmly with his shoulder sending him flying backward.
Because of his inebriated state, what should have been turned into an easy
landing was a mess. His feet danced clumsily over the floor. The wooden sword
clattered against the tile just before he landed flat on his back.
Ow.
Soft snickers radiated through the chamber as Siri righted
herself and stalked over to the fallen Jedi. Leaning over him she grinned and
teased, Did Obi fall down?
Obi-Wan giggle as he looked up into bright eyes. Pretty eyes, he mused,
capturing her attention. Then quickly reached out and grabbed her ankle.
No! she cried out, thrown off balance as she tried to pull free of his hold.
Unable to catch her footing, the wall caught her. She grunted as she smashed
into it. Twisting about, fire lit her eyes as she focused on the man now laying
on his side staring at her. What are you looking at? she demanded as she
pushed off the wall.
A pleased look crossed handsome features as he caressed her leather clad figure
with a lingering gaze. You. Internal thoughts bled
from berry-tinged lips, You are so beautiful.
Youve had too many berries, she quickly said, cutting off any further
comments. With a wave of the practice stick, she ordered, On your feet.
Obi-Wan stretched out seductively, looking very comfortable on his side,
propped up by an elbow. He lightly traced a finger over the cool stone.
Come on.
Meeting her gaze once more, he spoke in a low rumble, Say please.
Frozen in place, Siri just stared at him, refusing.
After a time, and when the crowd started to grow restless, she finally broke
down. Please?
Springing to his feet, he raised his practice stick in a defensive stance. Ready.
Oh, I cant
watch, Bant said, covering her eyes with salmon
hands.
You are just being difficult, Siri growled while
carefully sidestepping so not to take her focus off the Jedi opposite her. Her
tight posture reflected her preparedness to respond to the slightest
provocation.
Matching her step, Obi-Wan padded across the floor in a wide curve, always
remaining facing her. They circled each other a number of times without the
first hint of attack. A restless shift rippled through the gallery, even as
more observers crowded in.
The tears from the hit to the head still glistened as
they dried on Obi-Wans cheeks. He grinned sloppily
as he continued to sidestep. The wooden sword held at the ready wavered and
dipped.
Siri narrowed her gaze and stepped into an offensive
stance. Drawing her arm back, she held the stick at the ready. Determination
lit her eyes as she spoke, Enough playing games. Try and take me.
That was all the invitation he needed.
Tossing the practice sword to the side, Obi-Wan lunged at the female Jedi. A
host of startled gasps filled the upper chamber as Siri
instantaneously reacted and brought her weapon down across his back. An
agonized grunt burst from him as the wood slammed into his spine before
recoiling. Carried forward by his momentum, he tackled Siri
with such force that bones shuddered on impact with the unforgiving floor.
Siris practice stick was sent flying across the
chamber and air exploded from her lungs when Obi-Wan landed on top of her.
They groaned simultaneously as their tangled bodies came to an abrupt stop.
Get off of me, you big nerf! she grunted from
beneath.
Propping himself up on his elbows to take some of his weight off her, Obi-Wan
stared down into her tense face. I win, he announced then punctuated it with
a please grin.
Get off, she repeated.
Dont I get a prize?
Siri squirmed, trying to pull free. How about me not hitting you over the head again?
The scent of flowers tingled in his brain. Drifting down from her intense blue
gaze, he wondered if her lips were as soft as he imagined them.
Obi-Wan
Whatever Siri was about to say was smothered the
instant he took her into a deep kiss. Any hint of resistance melted away as she
pressed into his touch. Her lips carried the flavor of those lovely berries.
I like winning, he purred, breaking off. He leaned in and offered another,
teasing kiss, his lips brushing hers before he nuzzled her cheek. His beard
along the tender flesh of her throat inspired gentle laughter. He decided that
this was so much better than sparring. Hurts far less.
A string of little kisses traced along her jaw to her ear, then down the side
of her neck to the hollow of her throat. I love you, he whispered between
touches.
Mmm, she purred. Tell me that when you are sober.
I will.
The uncomfortable sound of someone clearing his or her throat snapped Siri back into the moment. Eyes popped wide open and in a
flash of movement, she launched Obi-Wan over her head with a powerful kick.
He landed flat on his battered back with an inelegant thud. A stricken noise
slipped through slightly parted lips but the sound was drowned out by a host of
sympathetic voices from the gallery above.
Ow, he whimpered, the burn in his back bringing
tears to his eyes. The stripe where Siris practice
stick had struck him and crossed over his shoulder blades pressed against the hard
floor. I liked the kissing much better, he mumbled. Afraid that moving would
only incite more pain, he chose to lie perfectly still, staring
blankly up at the dozens of tiny white lights in the high ceiling that
illuminated the room. What a lovely, starry night, he said in a berry-induced
dream.
Siri pushed herself into a sitting position and
brushed her hand over the sticky kiss trail down her throat. Pausing, she
brought her fingers up to her lips. Frustration bled into her features as she
stared at the motionless Jedi lying a few feet away. With a timid motion, she
reached to him and nudged the side of his face but stirred no reaction. You still alive?
A shuffle from the gallery above as Garen jumped to
his feet and slapped his hands to his cheeks in an exaggerated expression of
horror. Youve killed him! he cried out.
Pained winces from the stands turned into bursts of laughter as the teasing
Jedi fell back into his seat, caught by his friend the healer.
Obi-Wan had always
believed that he was fit and well in shape, but the stairs leading up to the
observation deck of the blue room nearly killed him. Every few steps, around a
curving column, he was forced to stop. The drummer in his head was having
trouble adjusting to the altitude changes.
His low groan echoed off the deep blue stone walls as he heavily sank to the
steps. Propping himself up on an elbow, he pressed his other hand over his
eyes.
The drums in his head were supposed to be fading, not getting louder.
Maybe if he just sat there for a few hours, he would feel much better. The
Council wouldnt mind if he skipped a scheduled appearance, just this one time.
Right?
The thundering in his head was so powerful that he thought it might explode.
That would be a real mess to clean up, he thought dully. Imagining bits of
brain splattered about the stairs, he wondered what poor being would get stuck
mopping it up.
At least, he would not have to deal with it.
A wicked smile tugged at his lips. It would be a right, fitting job for that
annoying cleaning bot, too bad he sent it of the
recycling oblivion.
Laughing, he gripped side rail and pulled himself to his feet. The action was
slow, but worth it to prevent the drummer in his head from getting motion
sickness. A soft whimper escaped between slightly parted lips but fell into an
uncertain silence the instant he locked eyes with Master Yoda.
The diminutive Jedi stood several steps higher allowing him to be at eye level
with the younger man. He looked as if he had been standing there for some time.
He spoke in a calm, yet authoritative voice. Early it is to open the
observation room, Master Kenobi.
Obi-Wan frowned. His muddled brain tried to coherently explain, I wasa few of
us were
Yoda grinned and tapped the end of his gimer stick to
the gray slate steps.
Ah, last nights entertainment. Hear about this, I did. The little master
nodded, staring off toward the wall. Yes, great sport was carried on here,
last night.
So I have heard, came a worried response.
Drawing his ears back slightly, the little master narrowed his gaze and studied
the rumpled Jedi before him. In a gravelly tone, he observed, Unwell, you
look.
I
Pale.
Just a headache, Obi-Wan replied. He could not lie to Yoda. Besides, he would
be shocked if the drums were not radiating to every Force user in the Galactic
Core. Still, he did not want to look like a complete fool in front of the very
wise Jedi. He gripped the handrail that snaked along the wall, hoping that it
would keep him from rolling down the stairs backward when he passed out.
Sudden worry rushed through him leaving an empty chill as his eyes widened.
Why had Yoda been in the gallery?
Glancing casually about, Yoda began to speak, Old I am. A beat as he shook a
clawed finger at Obi-Wan. Do not look at me like that, young one, a truth it
is, we both know. Forgotten what it is to be young, I have not. He leaned into
his gimer stick, content to wait.
Closing his eyes and allowed a deep sigh, Obi-Wan accept that his pride had
already taken many hits. He swallowed, still tasting the berry juice in his
mouth, and met the little masters citrus stare. Did you happen to hear what
exactly happened last night?
Yoda shook his head in disappointment.
The sight made Obi-Wans heart clench.
Foolish Jedi are these days, he said, speaking into the silence of the
stairwell. Think they are of stronger stuff and ignore the need to contemplate
their inner turmoil. Always manifests itself it does. He shook his head again,
but allowed a little smile. Always.
Master
Offering up a soft chuckle that eased Obi-Wans
worried spirit, Yoda accentuated his words with a wave of his hand. Saw many
stars, you did.
That didnt help. Then again, it was Master Yoda and he should not have
expected a straight answer.
Again the ancient one chuckled, as if aware of the unhappy thoughts, and started
down the steps with an arthritic grunt. He passed Obi-Wan but said nothing more
until he had traveled down several more steps and stopped. The silence drew the
younger mans attention and he turned to see Yoda staring up at him again.
In the gallery, you will not find your cloak.
Oh, no.
Master?
Down on the practice floor it is. Yoda closed his eyes, in the manner he
often did when searching the Force for answers. A mischievous grin lit his
wrinkled features. Great suffering I see in your future.
The Night Before
Everyone has left, Siri announced as she stalked
barefooted across the practice floor to where Obi-Wan still lay flat on his
back. Planting her palms on her knees, she leaned directly over him, her loose
blond locks falling forward, blocking the starry lights embedded in the
ceiling. You alive down there?
Obi-Wan blinked a few times before he focused on the slender Jedi hovering
above him. Her smile was so pretty. He grinned. I love you.
You will be over it by morning, she said as she grabbed his arm and with a
grunt, pulled him into a sitting position.
Sitting up caused a rush and the room began to spin about. He groaned, pressing
a hand over his eyes. It made his brain hurt. Make it stop.
Now that doesnt sound very good, she mumbled, kneeling next to him. Without
hesitation she reached out and began to gently rub her hand over the bruises
between his shoulder blades.
The circular motion over his back, helped make the room settle. Taken in by the
pleasing feel of her touch, he leaned into it, wishing for more. The feeling
was rare, but enjoyable, he craved the warmth carried
in it. But it only lasted a moment before she withdrew her hand. An unhappy
grunt escaped him and a strange emptiness took the wonderful feelings place.
Siri paused, watching as he retreated a little.
Frowning, she withdrew and smoothly rose to her feet. Bant
and Garen went for some strong kaf.
The dear healer thinks you need to be sobered up, but I kind of like you the
way your are. She stifled a smile and glanced away.
Too bad they will be back shortly. After a moment, she looked back to see
Obi-Wan unhappily poking at the floor. Whats the problem?
Hard. Hurts, he grumbled.
Well, you are sitting on the floor. Its supposed to be hard.
Obi-Wan looked about, studying the practice floor before shifting his gaze up
into the empty gallery. Oh. He twisted to look at Siri,
who had her back to him again. A little smile tugged at his lips as he studied
the gentle curves of Siris unisuit
clad backside.
Oblivious to his study, she strode to the wall rack the held an assortment of
wooden practice swords. Picking one up, she swung it about but never turned
toward her quiet companion. Quit looking at me like that, she said in a
knowing tone.
Like what? he purred.
Turning, she found a wicked grin crossing his handsome features. Like that,
she replied. Then shaking her head, she added, How did I get stuck babysitting
you? When an answer was not immediately presented, she returned her attention to
the rack and checked several of the other sticks. Finding a larger one, she
happily swung it about, testing its weight.
Worry filled Obi-Wan. He didnt want to get hit again because it hurt and
wasnt nearly as much fun as the kissing.
Dowsing his smile, he slowly crawled to his feet and staggered a step before
looking around. A wince painted handsome features as his battered cried out
from the movement. All he wanted was to find someplace soft to lie down.
He liked soft.
Siri was soft.
Concern filled eyes looked over at her, as she stepped through a few basic
moves. She was holding a big stick and it hurt when she hit him with it.
Hitting was bad.
He rubbed a hand over his tired face. He just wanted to find someplace nice and
soft to curl up in. Just for a little nap.
Trudging forward, he found the blue rooms exit and swiped his hand over the
controls. A soft swoosh, as cool hallway air danced through his ginger locks.
There was a small meditation garden just at the end of the corridor. A nice big
yarel tree with a thick patch of grass awaited him.
Into the hall, the bright light of the corridor made him squint and he brought
up a large hand to shield his pale blues.
Obi-Wan? Siris voice was
muffled through walls and distance. Obi-Wan? Bant will kill me if I have lost him
Obi-Wan moved
quietly among the gallery rows, straining to see into the shadowed areas but
his cloak was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he sank to the edge of a long bench
and stared across the descending rows of seating.
For a short time, he just sat there, twisting Siris
flowered hair comb about in his grip. The metallic pedals had long since warmed
to his touch as he brushed rough fingertips over the glossy red enamel.
Ceasing the simple action, he brought up a large hand and brushed it over his
face. It did not help to calm the pounding in his head, nor make him feel
anymore alive.
He just wanted something to eat and a nice, long hot shower.
His cloak, he couldnt forget about his cloak. After all, it was the reason for
his morning adventure. Allowing another heavy exhale, he pulled his hand from
his face and was about to get up when something caught his attention.
Smudges of pale coral covered his palm.
Where? He shook his head, no telling where or when
he had picked that up. He tried to wipe it away with the heel of his other palm
but gave up after only smearing it worse.
Yoda had said his cloak was in the blue room. He frowned trying to remember the
little masters cryptic statements.
The gallery was clear, that left the practice floor, though he couldnt imagine
why it would be down there.
Standing slowly, he stretched out the sore muscles in his back. A soft groan
escaped before he tried to pull it under a calm mask. It seemed he had already
made quite a fool of himself, but he did not want to continue to fuel the fire.
Making his way to a narrow staircase that ran from the gallery to the floor
along the blue covered walls, he gripped the railing and slowly descended. It
was a short journey, mercifully unoccupied by any green trolls, or any other
smiling Council member for that matter.
At ground level, muffled sounds of practice sessions in surrounding chambers
caught his attention. He listened to the voices, battle calls and referee barks,
and the sounds of practice swords snapping off each other. The distant hum and
grind of lightsabers charged the still air of the
exhibition room.
Pacing quietly to the center of the tiled floor, he stole a glance up into the
gallery. The image felt so familiar, as if he had been there before. Then he
chastised himself, knowing that he had performed numerous times in the room,
under a hundred watchful eyes.
Dropping his gaze to the benches just below, a sense of relief flooded him. His
cloak was draped over one of the long seats. Finally.
As he neared the bench, his pace slowed. The brown material was not the
familiar rusted hue, but more of a rich, soil color. It was lighter to his
touch when he picked it up. Smaller.
The cut was recognizable to him.
Siris
cloak.
He folded it over his arm and just held it close for a moment, wondering what
to do next. About to sit down again, just until the drumming in his head
quieted, he made one last survey of the practice floor.
A small smile painted his lips as he caught the schedule board fixed to the
wall by the door. In large flowing letters, that defied the grid layout, very
characteristic of Siri Tachi,
was a note: Weve gone to the
Relief flooded him, knowing the garden entrance was just down the hall. It was
almost over.
As he stepped into the corridor, he repeated the silent mantra that had kept
him all morning: cloak, food, and shower. But not necessarily
in that order.
The Night Before
A rustle of variegated leaves signaled the startled departure of a group of
colorful vrambi birds. Their long feathers danced in
the breeze they created, escaping to less busy areas of the garden.
Silly birds, Siri Tachi
whispered as she paused to watch the fluttering escape. She stalked through the
quiet garden, pausing occasionally to glance about. Wrapped in her arms was a
wadded mess of reddish-brown material. Obi-Wan? she softly called out, but no
answer came. Oh, lover boy! You forgot your cloak!
The questioning chirp of a bird caused her to spin about, staring into the
greens of a small thicket. She stifled a small laugh as her bright blue gaze
settled on the man sitting in the center of a small stone bench under the
shelter of a yarel tree.
Obi-Wan sat, leaning forward, as he stared straight ahead. He had heard her
calling him but he was wrapped up in more important matters at the moment.
Across from him, balancing on an aristois bush was a
yellow vrambi bird. Its flowing feathers draped over
thorny stems as black, button eyes stared at the Jedi. Sing song chirps filled
the air when it fluttered its wings.
You cant distract me, the Jedi announced. He was going to win this staring
contest.
Things were going quite well up until the moment that Siri
stepped between he and the bird. The vrambi chirped happily, teasing the Jedi, as it fluttered
up into the gnarled arms of the ancient tree.
Cheater! Obi-Wan called out, sweeping his gaze up to
where the bird was alighting.
Siri curiously looked up. What were you doing?
Playing a game, came a happy answer and a sloppy
grin.
With a frown, Siri said, You worry me. Approaching
him, she used her hip to bump him, hoping to make a little room on the bench as
she stuffed the inconvenient cloak to the side, but Obi-Wan refused.
She had ruined his game.
You could scoot over.
A curious look lit his face as he studied the woman he was crowdingshe
balanced uncomfortably on the edge of the seat. I could, he whispered, but
then you wouldnt be sitting so close.
Gentle laughter rippled through the quiet garden as Siri
reached up and patted the side of his face and stroked his beard. You poor
fool.
Whos the more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows
him? Sweeping her hand up in a gentle hold, he leaned in and kissed her
knuckles and allowed his lips to trail down to her fingertips.
Startled by the touch, she tried to pull her hand free, but instead lost her
balance on the edge of the bench. Obi-
Wan grabbed at her wrist, but only managed to be pulled to the ground with her.
She hit the grassy floor with a loud oomph. Obi-Wan landed on top of her. Not
again, she squeaked from beneath him. Get off me, you big nerf!
The flat of her hand swatted his shoulder.
A soft chuckle as Obi-Wan shifted, digging his knee into the green carpet close
to her hip and drew his weight off her. You dont talk soft, he murmured,
using his nose to nudge her chin back before planting kisses along her jaw
line.
Dont, she said, lilting laughter filling her voice as she reached up and
brushed her long fingers through his thick hair.
Why? he asked, smothering her with kisses. Flowers, he could smell flowers.
How lovely. Her skin was so silky smooth like the rich red petals of the Naboo aristois. Soft, he
breathed.
It isnt safe to be soft, she whispered. People take advantage of the
weak.
His slid his hand up and cupped the side of her face as he drew his thumb about
in a small circle over her cheek. For a moment, their eyes met. Such a pretty
blue, he thought. Not weak. The pad of his thumb brushed her pale painted
lips. Her breath was so warm as she parted them.
Soft, he whispered.
And then he screamed.
Gripping his thumb, now bearing teeth marks, he jerked back. Only to be struck
in the shoulder by a fist as Siri roughly shoved him
backwards. Startled, he tried to get to his feet but stumbled, crashing into
the knotty trunk of the yarel.
Not weak, she growled, kneeling across from him.
Obi-Wan whimpered as he looked back at his attacker while holding his wounded
thumb. He hadnt been hurt like that since he was on duty in the crèche
and a Trandoshan infant tried to eat his hand. They
have amazingly sharp teeth for being so young.
Worry lit Siris intense gaze as she reached out for
his wounded hand. Let me kiss and make it all better.
Pressing into the tree, he warily studied her. Youll just try to bite me
again, he pouted.
Maybe, she teased as she wrapped her fingers around his.
Faster than she could respond, Obi-Wan seized her wrist and wrenched her toward
him. She cried out in surprise as she crashed into his chest but offered no
resistance as he wrapped her in powerful arms.
Master Kenobi
But the trembling words were cut off in a demanding kiss.
Pleasant twitters
and chirps echoed across the high, arching ceiling of the meditation garden, as
the brightly colored vrambi birds fluttered from
perch to perch. Their flowing wings fanned out as they took to the air, gliding
on invisible currents.
Obi-Wan tiredly paused to watch the miniature wonders sprint across the
otherwise quiet chamber. With barely a conscious effort, he reached out
surveying the room through the Force. Beyond the multitude of tiny living
signatures, he sensed only one Force signature.
There was an intimate familiarity to it.
Just as he sensed it interwoven in the fibers of the deep brown cloak he
carried.
It was Siri.
An ache laid claim to his heart as he drifted from the stone path that snaked
through an array of blooming flowers. A usually confident stride was marked
with hesitation. He tried to look beyond the bushes, to where he believed her
to be without journeying too far from the path.
There was a calm about her. He decided she must have
been meditating. It was after all, a meditation garden. What else would one do
there?
Dismissing whatever silliness that clutched him, he strode forward, intent on
returning her cloak and silently praying that she had his. He really did not
want to explain that he had misplaced his cloak in the
Rounding a large aristois bush, he came to an abrupt
stop. The scent of the sweet buds tickled his senses as he spied his cloak.
But what should have been a sigh of relief came out as a constricted gasp as
his chest inexplicably tightened at the sight lain out before him.
The rich, reddish-brown material of his cloak was draped over Siris sleeping form. She had a contented smile painted on
relaxed features. Her bare feet stuck out below the rumpled hem.
His breaths grew shallow as he studied the gentle curve of a creamy ankle.
Again, the pressure in his chest caught him and he feared it might suffocate
him. Moving carefully, he drew near to lay her cloak on the mashed carpet of
green.
He looked longingly at his cloak and realized he was not that desperate to
retrieve it.
What, the female Jedi purred. You just going to love me
and leave me, Master Kenobi?
Glancing toward the sleeping figure, he watched her shift slightly under the
protection of his cloak. No, I didntI mean I was
She laughed before opening her bright eyes to meet his undoubtedly worried
gaze. You were what?
He was going to pass out if he was not released from the vice-like grip that
held his chest. His lower lip trembled in uncertainty and the feeling made him
ill. He sank to the ground near Siris feet. The
words came with little prompting, Did we? Was I?
A perfect gentleman, Siri said as she sat up, fully
clothed except for the seductively low zipper of her unisuit.
There was something in her smile that caught Obi-Wans
attention, but he did not have time to study it. Pushing his cloak to the side,
Siri crawled forward, closing the space between them.
Her fingers brushed through his mussed hair as she pulled his face close in a
deep kiss.
What surprised him was not the kiss, but the fact he quite enjoyed it. Tasting the sticky sweet of the bizigrina
berries on her lips. But just as the pleasure of the moment started to
seep in, he could feel her pull away, taking her cloak with her.
Smoothly rising to her feet, she drew the material over her shoulders, pulling
it tight over her unzipped clothing, shielding the exposed flesh. I havent
felt this good in a long time, she said. Pausing to bite worriedly down on her
lip she motioned toward his confused look. You might want to clean the
lipstick off your face before anyone sees it. Her smile broadened as she
obviously struggled not to laugh.
Obi-Wan could feel his face flush bright red. Oh, he groaned, drawing his
hands up to cover the coral smudges. How could he have been so stupid?
After a moment, he realized she was watching him. He looked up and saw whatever
joy she had possessed had faded to quiet contemplation. Her smile was false, a
mask to hide something else. He opened his mouth to say something, but froze,
having no idea what to say.
Yet, he knew there was something important he should say.
She glanced away, pretending to be intrigued by an insect buzzing about the
flowers.
Did he want to tell her that he thought her eyes were the most beautiful shade
of blue he had ever seen? Or tell her that sometimes, he imagined drawing
battle-worn fingers over the soft skin of her throat, to that little hollow.
That he so desperately wanted to kiss it? That he wanted to feel her wrapped in
his arms? The he could almost imagine warmth of her body pressed against his?
But the moment passed all too quickly.
I have things I should be attending too this morning. Whats left of it, she
said, tearing into the silence that lingered between them. We should have
these gatherings more often. They are such enjoyment. With that, she briskly
passed him and headed for the stone path.
As he rose to his feet to watch her go, he knew what he really wanted to say.
When the words came, they were barely a whisper, crushed by fear, I love you.
For a moment, he imagined that he saw a hitch in Siris
even step, but she kept walking as if the words never reached her.
It was for the best, he quickly reasoned, pushing the thoughts back where they
could do no harm. They were Jedi and such frailties were distractions they
could not suffer.
During the long journey back to the apartment he shared with Anakin, he had
taken the time to mend the hole that tattered his
heart. He did not want to share it, and Anakin at times could be painfully
perceptive of his pain.
By the time he had reached the door, all that remained was the perpetual
drumming in his head. A shower, food and sleep were in store, but not
necessarily in that order.
Before palming the door controls he paused, catching a whiff of flowers. A quick glance about revealed nothing save the empty
corridor. Then it occurred to him that the scent was on his cloak. Siris perfume.
A gentle smile tugged his lips.
The door swooshed open to an empty, but lit common area. He had imagined that
Anakin would be back and was not disappointed. The sound of tools, the clatter
of metal and other parts drew him to the door of the boys room.
A blond head bobbed up and down as the padawan
intently worked on a small part under a viewing glass. Afternoon, Master, he
said, but did not break his focus from his repair work.
It is afternoon all ready? Obi-Wan dully replied, unsure of where the morning
had gone.
Last I checked.
Shouldnt you be studying for your Republic history final? The words were
bland questioning; he did not feel like getting into it with the youth at the
moment.
Anakin raised his head slightly. Im on a short break. Letting my brain rest.
Repair work wearies the brain too, the master replied, leaning against the
doorframe.
Different part of the brain. At least that is how
Master Hale explained it in class the other day.
Ah. He folded his arms across his chest but paused when something poked his
palm. Too his surprise, he was still clasping Siris
hair comb.
He had forgotten to give it to her.
I heard you put on a great show last night, Anakin said before finally
turning to face him. He was grinning.
Startled, Obi-Wan looked up from the metal flower. I
Heard some whispering about it in the corridors. I know I shouldnt eaves
drop, but Master Gallia and others sounded really impressed. They agreed that
it was an inspiring performance. They all wished they were your sparring
partner last night.
Obi-Wan felt light-headed.
I hope Im that good someday. A beat. Master? Are you feeling okay? You dont look so good.
Im fine, he quickly said, waving off the concerned look before straightening.
Worry glossed over the youths handsome featured before falling behind a
pleased grin. I had a good morning too, he chirped. I was down in the
recycle station looking for spare parts for that motivator assembly on the
busted delivery bot in the archives. Youll never
guess what I found?
I cannot imagine.
A perfectly good maintenance bot that someone had
just thrown out. The apprentice stood up from his chair, revealing the yellow
casing of his newest repair project.
Obi-Wans eyes widened at the sight of the nefarious
floor cleaning droid he had happily disposed of hours earlier. No!
Master?
The hum of a lightsaber filled the small chamber,
disrupted by an angry string of beeps and whistles.
Master!
No! I just fixed it!
Red rose knight