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.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. He was reading and hadn't looked up from the book. The apprentice stopped in his tracks, stared at his boot tips, then looked everywhere but at the Jedi.
"Yes, Master?" the boy replied.
The Padawan's somewhat furtive movement from the door of his sleeping quarters to the door of their apartment had captured Qui-Gon's attention despite the boy's obvious attempts otherwise.
"You weren't going to leave without telling me?" the Jedi asked.
"Ah... no, master."
"Very well then, where you are going?" Qui-Gon looked up from the book and wondered at the flush on Obi-Wan's young face. For the last five nights he had been sneaking out of the apartment and returning late. At least, Qui-Gon allowed the boy to think he was sneaking out. Now the Jedi master was curious.
"To, uh, well, Jaym is at the temple, you know, and he and I are going to uh, visit friends, uh, master," Obi-Wan replied, fidgeted and looked longingly toward the door. He would not meet Qui-Gon's gaze.
An apprentice was never to lie to their master, and Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan wouldn't lie to him, however, neither was he telling the entire truth. Jaym was Obi-Wan's friend, and it had been almost a year since they'd seen each other. It was not out of character that Obi-Wan would want to spend as much time with his friend as possible. Any day they could be dispatched on another mission, Qui-Gon had to wonder what the young Padawan's were up to for Obi-Wan to behave in such a guilty fashion.
"Be mindful young Padawan, and stay out of trouble." the Jedi said. At this moment he felt more like a concerned parent than the boy's Jedi master. Obi-Wan nodded. "And try not to stay out too late. I would like to be in the exercise arena by 8AM standard time tomorrow morning."
"Eight AM!" the apprentice burst out and took one step forward. He held out beseeching arms. "But master!"
"Is that a problem, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked with an inquiring lift of an eyebrow. "Just because we are in between missions doesn't mean that we can be lax in our workouts."
"Yes, master. I mean no!" Obi-Wan grimaced and shifted from foot to foot.
"Remember, 8AM sharp," the Jedi called after his apprentice. The steel door slid closed behind the Padawan.
Qui-Gon stared at the closed door for a moment, a frown furrowing his brows. He knew Obi-Wan was up to something, but the boy was eighteen now, a responsible lad, a mindful pupil and he could look after himself. He sighed, he sometimes forgot that despite how serious Obi-Wan's demeanor, he was still a youngster.
The Jedi Master had just put aside his book and settled comfortably into a meditation trance when an incoming holo message chimed. He clenched his eyes tighter, ignoring the sound, trying to settle deeper into the trance.
He opened one eye and growled in his throat. It wasn't working. He got up, crossed the room and pressed the receive button.
To his surprise it was Mace Windu. He looked tired and Qui-Gon mentioned that.
Mace shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. "The Malstarian senators have lodged a complaint against the Bothan senators and Chancellor Valorum requested that the council mediate." The Jedi shook his head. "I'm always amazed at how much a Bothan senator can say without really saying anything. We just finished up and I need to get out of the temple for awhile. I heard your mission has been cancelled and I was thinking about our old haunt and thought you might want to head out there with me."
"The Spy Net?" Qui-Gon asked. It had been a favorite eatery of many Jedi; quiet and discreet and without staring wide-eyed at the vaunted Jedi patrons. He hadn't been there in, oh, at least ten years. He hesitated, then realized a relaxing evening with his old friend would do him some good. "Well, Obi-Wan is gone for the evening. I think we can both use a break."
"Very good," Mace said and sounded pleased. "I will meet you up at the transport hangar in an hour, say at 9pm?"
Qui-Gon agreed and ended the transmission. He spent so little time on Coruscant that he needed to take advantage of the lull between missions. And, he reminded himself, now that Obi-Wan was older, the council dispatched them on increasingly dangerous missions. He didn't want to sound fatalistic, but he needed to take advantage of moments such as these.
An hour later, he found Mace waiting for him in the main hangar by one of the council's transport. They both wore their Jedi clothing and robes.
Mace's robes were in better shape; he spent all his time now on the council and had not taken a new Padawan since his last, almost two years ago, had past the trials and become a Jedi Knight. Qui-Gon made a mental note to have a new set of robes made. Mace offered to pilot the transport.
Qui-Gon sat back, looked out the large viewport and enjoyed the setting sun reflecting off the high towers and buildings of Galactic City. Sometimes the city felt claustrophobic with its endless city sprawl, but at the end of a mission, he always looked forward to coming back to the temple.
"Do you remember where the Spy Net is?" Qui-Gon asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
"I think," Mace replied, but sounded doubtful. He maneuvered the transport through Galactic City's heavy air traffic and banked it into a higher traffic lane and merged between two other transports. "In fact, I thought it was just ahead near the shopping hub, but it appears there are some new buildings over it." He nodded toward a wide pedestrian thoroughfare far below lined with glass and durasteel buildings.
Qui-Gon wasn't surprised neither of them could remember. It had been ten years since he and Mace had visited the quiet restaurant and lounge. Nothing in Coruscant was ever torn down, it was just built on top of and that appeared to be the fate of their old haunt.
"Let's land and have a look around," Qui-Gon suggested.
Mace agreed with a nod and moved the transport out of the main traffic lane and toward an area of landing platforms. They disembarked down the landing ramp to the platform and down a lift to a crowded boulevard lined with shops, entertainment spots and drinking establishments. Humans and aliens from all over the galaxy strolled down the thoroughfare, enjoying the fading rays of the setting sun and the cool air. Despite the myriad of beings, the Jedi attracted no small amount of interest. It was unusual to see Jedi among the common population of Coruscant.
"I think it was down this way," Qui-Gon indicated to their left, ignoring pointed stares. Mace nodded and they headed west toward a park of trees, shrubs and benches.
Some time later they both stopped and looked around, perplexed. The Jedi had to admit that they were lost.
"I have a feeling that we may need to go down a few levels," Qui-Gon said at last. "This is all new."
"I think you're right." Mace indicated another lift that traveled down into the lower levels of the city. "Let's go."
They stopped on the second level down, then the third, and finally on the forth they spied a storefront that looked familiar but the name was different. They stepped out of the lift and looked around.
"I'm certain this is it." Qui-Gon pointed to the familiar façade of the store opposite the lift. "That used to be a wine shop."
"I don't know...," Mace said, his words trailing off as he turned a slow circle and looked around at the dilapidated buildings. "I have a feeling 'Spy Net' isn't going to be what we remember."
"I have to agree," Qui-Go returned then straightened stiffly, his gaze sharpened. He had distinctly felt a familiar ripple in the Force.
Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon thought. What would Obi-Wan be doing down here? He moved forward a half dozen steps staring at the faces of everyone who passed by. He doubted if Mace could sense the presence of Obi-Wan—it was a mental link shared only between master and Padawan--but until he knew what was going he didn't want to explain. "I think I want to look around."
Mace frowned at Qui-Gon for a moment then nodded and together they traveled down the street lit by glow globes--the sun's brightness no longer shone on this level and it never would again. As before, curious stared followed their passage but no one approached them.
Soon, Qui-Gon found himself looking at a very familiar building façade. Though now it wasn't called 'The Spy Net' it was called 'The Naked Mime'.
"I think this is it." Qui-Gon indicated the building with flashing glow signs and glow rods imbedded into a clear plasti-steel door. A modified 3PO unit, acting as a bouncer, stood out in front. A line of females, human and alien, streamed through the door.
Mace squinted, staring hard. "I think you're right," he finally said. "It looks familiar, but it isn't The Spy Net. What happened?"
"It appears our favorite place has been assimilated by the invading culture of this level." Qui-Gon shrugged. "We wasted an hour looking for it, we might as well go in."
"Does this have to do with whatever it is you felt a few blocks back?"
So Mace had felt something. Qui-Gon nodded. "I would like to go in and have a quick look. We can always have late dinner in my apartment." Qui-Gon strode forward, Mace beside him looking doubtful and eyeing the place with a frown.
The bouncer droid looked them up and down. "We've been expecting you," it intoned. Qui-Gon looked at Mace who shrugged. "You need to enter through the entertainer's entrance in the rear of the building."
"But we're not--," Mace began, but the droid waved impatiently at them when it spied another approaching throng of females.
"Go in. Go in," it said exasperated and waved at them with a metallic gold hand. "You can get to the stage through the door behind the far bar."
"I have a bad feeling about this," Mace said.
They walked in and found themselves in a large, dark room with a high pitched ceiling. Spiraling colored lights and sparkling strobes circled the room in a dizzying spiral. A heavily synthesize beat synchronized with the lights, vibrated the room. With the mass of bodies pressed together, the air was stale and smelled faintly of sweat. Male dancers of assorted species, and in various stages of undress, writhed within cages suspended from the ceiling. All the patrons, except for the two Jedi masters, were female.
"Ah, I think you're right. This was a bad idea," Qui-Gon said. Still he was reluctant to leave, certain that he had sensed Obi-Wan. But what would his Padawan be doing in this place? Standing head and shoulders above the crowd, he looked across the gathered female faction. At one time, during an earlier era in his life, he would have stayed to enjoy all this feminine company, but now the pounding music merely hurt his head.
"Let's go," Mace said, and at Qui-Gon's nod he started through the milieu, ignoring the interested glances of more than several young women. Qui-Gon tried to stay with his friend but found himself separated.
"Are you really a Jedi," a human female, who sidled up to him, asked. She had long dark hair and wore a skintight, cleavage busting leather top and a short silver metallic-looking skirt that displayed her long shapely legs to advantage. Qui-Gon guessed he was easily old enough to be her father, but the age different didn't deter her. She touched his brown robes and then leaned closed to him, her ample breasts pressing into his arm. It took supreme effort for Qui-Gon to pull his eyes away from that display of tantalizing flesh. It was true he was a Jedi, but he wasn't a monk and it had been many months since he'd considered a woman in the way he was now thinking.
"A friend told me that Jedi make incredible lovers. She said it has something to do with the Force." She batted her eyelashes up at him and ran a finger down his chest. Her looked was openly inviting "I would love to find out for myself."
Qui-Gon gently grasped the inebriated female's slender wrist in his hand and was about to set her away from him when the announcer rattled his microphone and cleared his throat.
"And now ladies," called the multi-limbed and multi-eyed announcer in accented Basic, "this is the moment you have been waiting for, the main attraction. Get your credits ready for here is the one, the only, JEDI MASTER!"
A bass-heavy synthesized drum flourish followed that announcement and incredibly the crowd fell silent as all lights focused on a raised stage.
The young woman, without further protest, moved away from Qui-Gon, her eyes trained on the stage, her lips slightly parted.
Jedi Master? Qui-Gon silently mouthed the words.
To a steady, hard beat that pounded in Qui-Gon's ears, yet had the rest of the crowd clapping and swaying, a robed figure pranced onto the stage. The voluminous brown robes were that of a Jedi and the large cowl hid the charlatan's face. Qui-Gon pursed his lips. This was a mockery. He quelled the urge to stride up to the stage, pull that charlatan off and give whoever it was a long lecture.
The dancer moved his body sinuously, then flipped off the heavy Jedi hood. Qui-Gon stared. He blinked. He took two steps forward and stared some more. His mouth fell open.
It was Obi-Wan Kenobi.
His Padawan. The loyal and dedicated Jedi apprentice. The serious and sober Jedi apprentice.
Qui-Gon had a former Padawan fall to the darkside, but there didn't exist words to describe this insult to the sanctity of Jedihood.
"Oh, he is so incredible," breathed the young human female who had accosted Qui-Gon earlier. "Do you think he's a real Jedi?" she asked a pal who wore an equally rapturous expression on her young face.
"Who knows," she replied and licked her lips. Her gaze never leaving the stage. "And looking like he does, who would care?"
On stage, Obi-Wan began to slowly shed his brown Jedi robe. At a teasing glimpse of skin, the women cheered and began to chant.
"Take it off! Take it off!"
Chagrined, Qui-Gon looked desperately around the crowd, hoping that Mace had made it outside and wasn't witnessing this appalling display. He didn't see the other Jedi master, but his eyes alighted on the only other male in the place. Jaym. Qui-Gon's hands clenched against his thighs. The Padawan was standing with his back partially toward Qui-Gon; he was dressed casually without his usual robes and Jedi attire. His long blonde Padawan braid fell down over his broad back. Two adoring females hung off each arm, their rapturous gazes alternated between him and Obi-Wan on the stage.
So this was what Obi-Wan meant by visiting friends! Qui-Gon ground his teeth, trying to control his anger.
Qui-Gon looked back toward the stage. Obi-Wan flung off the robe to reveal nothing on his muscular body save a tiny g-string leaving little to the imagination. Qui-Gon groaned in embarrassment. The women went crazy.
"Jedi! Jedi! Jedi! Jedi!" they all cried.
"I think I'm going to faint," sighed the female reverently. Woman of all races and species flocked three deep to the stage to slip credits into the g-string of the gyrating Jedi.
Enough! thought Qui-Gon. This had gone on long enough. He spun on his heel, his robes billowing out behind him as he stalked toward Jaym. The Padawan kissed one of the girls deeply as he ran a hand over her rear end, then he began nibbling on her on her neck. He then he looked up, started to look down then looked back up sharply. His mouth soundlessly formed the words 'oh shit'.
"Ma-Ma-Master Qui-Gon!" Jaym stuttered as the figure of the tall Jedi master loomed over him. He shook off the women and retreated until he bumped up against the wall. Qui-Gon stalked him, anger in the harsh lines of his face. "Wha-wha-wha-what are you doing here?"
"I should ask the same of you," Qui-Gon ground out. He was not amused. "What is this all about?"
"Uh, we uh, we're uh, Obi-Wan and I, uh!" Jaym stammered and tried to smile, but it faded under Qui-Gon's withering glare.
"We are Jedi! We are not... not..." at that unfortunate moment, Qui-Gon looked to the stage to see Obi-Wan shimmy to a crouching position to allow two woman to slip credit in his G-string and give him a kiss. For once, Qui-Gon was a loss for words. "We are not this!" he finally shouted, gesturing toward the stage.
"Bu-bu-bu-but Master Qui-Gon, we wanted to help!" Jaym burst out. He wasn't making any sense.
"Help who and what!" Qui-Gon was incensed. He grabbed Jaym by the arm and pulled him across the room toward the stage, pushing through the crowd and ignoring startled looks cast their way.
Obi-Wan shimmied across the stage. The first time he had tried this, he seriously doubted he could do go through with it. Just the sight of all those cheering women made his stomach cramp. But to his surprise, he found he could dance, and the females seemed to enjoy it. He dropped to the floor and smoothly executed several one-arm pushups with his right arm, and then transferred to his left and executed several more. The women cheered and yelled and pushed harder toward the stage. The credits he made were impressive too, and that was what this was all about, making credits--but he could get a little enjoyment out of it, right? He told himself to assuage his guilt. If the Jedi master knew about this, he'd be apoplectic with fury. He hated deceiving Qui-Gon
That quandary suddenly became a mote point.
The man, standing held and shoulders above the surging mass, was none other than his master. Jaym, his arm held captive in one of Qui-Gon's large hands, gave Obi-Wan a helpless shrug.
Oh crap, thought Obi-Wan. He and Jaym were definitely caught in deep space with a broken cruiser. He backed away from the furious glower of his master. His own smile towards the cheering mass was forced as he retrieved his robes and scooped up the credits thrown on the stage. The thumping beat of the song faded and he disappeared behind the stage to an area filled with milling males, alien and human. A dark skinned alien with brilliant blue eyes and muscles bulging over every inch of his body, clapped Obi-Wan on the back.
"You really got 'em in a frenzy," he said with a broad grin that displayed sharp canines. He disappeared on to the stage the music almost drowned out by cheers and catcalls.
Obi-Wan found a clean towel and a quiet corner and mopped the sweat off his neck and chest. This was not good. How in the galaxy did Qui-Gon find him? Obi-Wan dropped his head in his hands and took a deep breath. He felt an uncomfortable spike in the Force and looked up as Qui-Gon, with a hard grasp still on Jaym's arm, easily manipulated the back stage bouncer with a wave of his hand and a push of the Force. He stalked up to Obi-Wan and glared down.
Obi-Wan had never seen his master this angry.
"Get dressed, we're leaving," the Jedi Master ground out.
Obi-Wan flinched and nodded. He had an explanation for all this, but Qui-Gon did not appear to be in the mood to listen. Morosely, the Padawan nodded and began to pull on a plain pair of black pants, a white tunic and a pair of knee-high black boots.
He glanced past his master and held his breath.
"Master, boogie!"
"What?" Qui-Gon returned, perplexed at Obi-Wan's sudden change in demeanor.
"Run!" Jaym translated and looked desperately over his shoulder. Hoards of adoring female fans had broken past the backstage bouncer and were running toward the Jedi.
"The backstage door," Obi-Wan said as he threw his Jedi robe around his shoulders and took off at a dead run. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that Jaym and Qui-Gon followed.
The three barreled out the back door and almost ran over Master Mace Windu.
"What is going on!" Mace shouted, then over Qui-Gon shoulder he saw the mass of females hot on their heels. No other questions were necessary at the moment.
They sprinted down the crowded thoroughfare, pushing their way through the throng, pushing aside pedestrians and looking for a lift to the upper levels. Obi-Wan ducked into an unlit trash-strewn space between two buildings. Jaym and the two Jedi masters followed. As the screaming mass neared their hiding place, Qui-Gon lifted his hand and used the Force to send the women rushing past without one looking into the shadowed alleyway. Obi-Wan watched them disappear, heaved a breath of relief, then looked up in the stern face of his master. He realized he wasn't out of this yet.
He tried to explain.
"Master, I know how this looks but--."
"Silence!" Qui-Gon shouted. Obi-Wan and Jaym both flinched. They looked toward Mace Windu but no quarter was forthcoming. "I am not interested in what you have to say!" Qui-Gon continued through clenched teeth. His large hands clenched at his side and Obi-Wan wondered if his master would strike him.
Ho boy, Obi-Wan thought, this was much worse then he had thought, and he followed the two Jedi masters out of their hiding space and toward a lift that would take them to the city's top level.
He exchanged a glanced with Jaym and he wondered if he looked as cowed as his friend did.
"This was a bad idea," Obi-Wan whispered.
"That's the buggering understatement of the millenium," Jaym whispered back. "You and your great ideas are going to get us banished to the bleakest corner of the friggin' outer rim."
"At least I was willing to do something to help--." Obi-Wan snapped his mouth shut and he lapsed into miserable silence at Mace Windu's withering glare.
Qui-Gon never recalled being this angry at Obi-Wan, even 'angry' did not describe his emotions. He was simply beyond furious. They had not spoken since last night, and the Jedi master wasn't certain he was capable of saying anything civil to his Padawan. Several times Obi-Wan had tried to speak with him, and he'd abruptly cut him off. He didn't want to hear it.
How could he ever trust his Padawan again?
And now, during their morning practice session, Qui-Gon allowed his lightsaber to do the talking, and though the blade was tuned low for the practice session, it could still give a good sting and a burn. Without sympathy, he stared down at Obi-Wan who had collapsed panting and exhausted to the exercise arena floor. Sweat plastered the Padawan's hair to his head. Circles of dark sweat stained his underarms and around his tunic collar. His sleeveless workout tunic and bare arms were scorched with numerous lightsaber burns.
To Obi-Wan's credit, the Jedi master had to admit, he took the relentless punishment in silence, but he was no match for his master, one of the most talented swordsman to have past through the temple in close to five hundred years. Qui-Gon turned at a familiar thump thump sound of Master Yoda's gimer stick.
The diminutive Jedi walked up, looked at Obi-Wan who lay crumpled on the floor, his breathing erratic, and then up to the tall Jedi.
"A visitor, Obi-Wan has," Yoda said. Qui-Gon wondered at the enigmatic expression the older Jedi master's wrinkled face.
"Obi-Wan is busy. Ask them to come back," Qui-Gon said curtly. "Get up Obi-Wan!"
"Wait this cannot," Yoda persisted. He crossed to the young apprentice and laid a gnarled hand on his trembling shoulder. "Go Obi-Wan, excused you are for now."
Slowly, painfully Obi-Wan picked himself up off the floor and looked at Qui-Gon who nodded shortly without speaking. Shoulders slumped, Obi-Wan trudged over to where an older woman waited. Qui-Gon refused to allow himself to feel anything for his Padawan. The boy's conduct had been reprehensible. He deserved no quarter, no sympathy.
"Angry you are with Obi-Wan?" Yoda asked.
"Yes," Qui-Gon answered tightly. He pursed his lips. "Who is that?"
Qui-Gon asked of the older human female who wore threadbare shoddy clothing. She wore a tattered shawl around her shoulders and her gray haired was pulled to an untidy bun. Despite her appearance, her expression was one of hope.
He watched as Obi-Wan spoke with the woman for a moment, then took her hand and help her to a bench. Sitting next to her, he drew a drawn-string leather purse from inside his tunic and put it in her hand. From this distance, Qui-Gon could see tears sparkle in her eyes and she leaned over and gave Obi-Wan a kiss on the cheek. She then took his hand for a moment, spoke something that Qui-Gon could not hear, then got up and quickly left. Obi-Wan wiped a hand across his brow. Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's pain from the numerous burns on his body. Still, he allowed himself to feel nothing. Let this be a lesson to the boy.
"Mistress Vivian, she is," Yoda finally answered. "An administrator for one of the orphanages in this area. Close down her orphanage the owner of the building threatened. Put her and her homeless children in the streets, without food, and without shelter that would have. Homeless they would have all been." The wise Jedi blinked up at Qui-Gon. "Able to purchase the building and a large supply of food she was with the help of a generous benefactor."
Qui-Gon wanted to sink into the ground. A chill of remorse traveled up his spine. He closed his eyes and groaned. How could he have doubted his Padawan? Obi-Wan was a kind and good boy. He had allowed his anger to control his emotions and cloud his judgement. Anger was the darkside, and he had allowed himself to be seduced. And worse, he had ill-treated his Padawan.
"Not always as they seem are motives. Selfish Obi-Wan is not," Master Yoda said quietly with censure in his voice. "Next time perhaps the Master should listen to his Padawan and not the worst should he assume. If one jumps to conclusion, painful the landing might be." With that Yoda left, his gimer stick making rhythmic taps against the floor.
Qui-Gon stared at his Padawan. Remorse heavy in his chest. He walked up to Obi-Wan. The boy stood, staring up at him, and though he looked defeated his expression was resolute and somewhat defiant. The Jedi Master laid a hand on the Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"I am sorry," he finally said. Those were three words he seldom spoke.
"I should have been more truthful with you, Master," Obi-Wan replied. "It is I who need to apologize."
"Perhaps we have both learned something through this. As Master Yoda would say, 'Nothing happens by chance'."