DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
The door chime sounded to Qui-Gon's quarters and he looked up from the treaty he was reviewing.
"Come in," he called loudly.
The door opened to reveal a strikingly pretty girl in her mid-teens. She had pale, bluish skin and hair the color of deep red wine. The hair was swept back in a mass of curls, showing off her delicately pointed ears, which rose in elfin splendor. When she smiled, she revealed tiny white teeth, of which the canines came to short little spikes.
"Hello," she said, bowing to the Jedi Master. Qui-Gon's equilibrium was momentarily disturbed.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
"I'm Kat'ri," she said. "Obi-Wan said you wanted to meet me."
Qui-Gon's eyes widened. "Oh, right. Of course. Please, come in."
Kat'ri looked confused. "You were not expecting me?"
"No, I was. It's just, uh," he paused, uncertain. He did not want to offend her.
"You thought I was Human, didn't you?" Kat'ri asked, a faint smile creasing her face.
Qui-Gon wondered if there was a diplomatic escape route in his immediate future.
"No," he began. "I'm just surprised that you came when Obi-Wan is not here."
/Ha! Nice save/ he complimented himself.
"Oh," she said. "You think I should come back later?" She turned to go.
"No, stay. It's alright."
"Well, if you insist." Kat'ri took the seat at the table that Qui-Gon indicated.
"Kat'ri, have you ever attended a diplomatic function before?" The Jedi Master asked her.
"Not exactly, sir. I have attended negotiations, and other such functions, but never a social event outside the Temple."
Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "Have you given any thought to what you will wear? The women at these functions typically wear exquisite gowns."
"Yes, Master Jinn. My parents recently sent me an evening gown which I believe will be adequate."
"Excellent Padawan Kat'ri. That is all for now. I will have Obi-Wan contact you and arrange a meeting time for tomorrow evening."
"Thank you, Master Jinn. I look forward to it with great pleasure."
Qui-Gon smiled. "Are you planning on becoming an ambassador, Kat'ri? Because you've certainly got the platitudes down to a fine art already. You should give Obi-Wan lessons."
Kat'ri giggled, her nose wrinkling and her pointed teeth showing. "Obi-Wan? Diplomacy?"
Obi-Wan's palms were sweating again. He paced his quarters. He was uncomfortable wearing clothes other than his robes. He'd had a bit of an argument with his Master about his apparel for the evening. It had begun with his outright refusal to wear the outfit and had ended with Qui-Gon's ominous comment: "Young man, if you do not get yourself dressed this instant, I'll do it for you." That had been enough to make him scurry into his chambers.
Now he stood, regarding his reflection with dismay. The clothes fit, that was the only good thing about them. They were far too flashy for his taste.
The door chime sounded, breaking him out of his current panic and tossing him into a new one. Kat'ri was here.
Obi-Wan emerged from his quarters, beating Qui-Gon to the door. His fingers shaking, he palmed the control. The door slid open to reveal Kat'ri.
She quite literally took his breath away and he stood there dumbfounded. The gown Kat'ri had chosen was the same deep wine color as her hair, and the effect was striking. The gown left her back and shoulders bare, rising up the center of her chest and fastening behind her neck. It was floor length, but she was wearing shoes with a slight heal, so the hem of the gown brushed across her toes.
"Kat'ri, you look stunning," Qui-Gon said smoothly, extending an arm to the young woman. He led her into their suite. "Please, have a seat. Master Cal'breth will be joining us shortly and then we shall leave."
Obi-Wan merely blinked. Kat'ri was his friend, his sparring partner, his classmate. The thoughts he was having at the moment were so far removed from anything platonic, that he was finding it difficult to think at all. His Master quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
"Is Obi-Wan okay?" Kat'ri whispered.
Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "He'll be fine. He's just adjusting to your change in appearance."
"Oh," she said, a hint of a smile creasing her face. "Good."