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The Sword and Stars, Part I -- Springtime on Tivelis (1/3)

by: Melynda Jensen

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ARCHIVE: Yes
FEEDBACK: Please send to [email protected]
SUMMARY: Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan are grounded by an ion storm on the planet Tivelis and find themselves at a tavern called The Sword and Stars, where they meet a interesting waiter, his best friend and tavern owner, and a fellow Jedi Knight. Takes place a few years before TPM.

RATING: G
DISCLAIMER: The characters Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi belong to LucasFilms Ltd. No money is changing hands, no profit is being made.
NOTES: The character Y'Chelle Anacris was inspired by the actress Michelle Yeoh, who I think would make a kick-ass Jedi Knight if George Lucas ever chose to show a female Jedi in action.
Thanks to Chris, for getting this story started. Thanks also to Lori, Raven, and Monica, for their great feedback and encouragement.

The Sword and Stars
Part I -- Springtime on Tivelis
Obi-Wan Kenobi looked up briefly and caught sight of a sign on a busy tavern that said "The Sword and Stars" and decided it sounded vaguely Jedi-like. Continuing his argument, he turned to face Qui-Gon Jinn and walked towards the tavern backwards, eagerly gesturing as he said, "...but only the one would be needed, don't you see? And that would halve -- no, reduce by *two-thirds* the response time, and then we could -- "

A tall woman with short dark hair and steady gray eyes stood by the counter that spanned the outdoor terrace and indoor seating areas, adding receipts. Seeing the two men, she hooked a chair with her foot, pulling it out of the way of the younger man so he wouldn't trip. Qui-Gon nodded once to her, acknowledging her help. Although his expression was solemn, she thought she saw a glint deep in his eyes that might have been amusement, but when their eyes met for a brief second she couldn't be sure; his blue eyes were unreadable. His attention quickly went back to the other man, whom he interrupted with, "You would do well to concentrate on the present moment, Obi-Wan, with all its inherent -- possibilities."

Obi-Wan checked at this, and seemed to realize only then the number of mishaps he could incur by walking backwards. He hastily led the way to an empty table on the large terrace, which had a view of a lush green park across the street that sloped away towards a central business area and, beyond it, a bay sparkling in the planet Tivelis's spring sunshine.

A waiter, looking very much like a human-sized cat walking on its hind legs, his white fur patched at random with orange and black, hurried to greet them with a bow and the ritual words, "Will you refresh yourselves?" and proffered hot water for tea. As he straightened and Qui-Gon's eye caught his, the fur from the nape of his neck all the way to the tip of his tail bristled and he almost dropped the teapot.

Obi-Wan looked from one to the other. *Now that's a fear-response if I ever saw one*, he thought as he raised his hand slightly and used the Force to ease the teapot onto the table. Sometimes Obi-Wan forgot that Qui-Gon had an air about him -- of authority used to being obeyed, of calm assurance bordering on arrogance. It was less and less often that the Master fixed him with a stare that seemed to see right through him, but even his most neutral stare had an unnerving intensity. As Qui-Gon politely ignored the waiter's distress and spoke in low, even tones designed to put him at his ease, Obi-Wan reflected that there had been times when, if he'd had fur, *he'd* have bristled all over at one of Qui-Gon's looks.

Their parti-colored waiter made it inside to place their order, and Obi-Wan watched with interest as he came back out, went to the woman at the counter and agitatedly pointed with his tail at their table. She put down her scan-pad and took the bristly tail tip in her hands, stroking it soothingly as he apparently told her why he wasn't going to bring them their food. She seemed to speak reasonably, then remonstrate, then she yanked on his tail with what looked like exasperated affection. A lull in the conversation around them let him overhear her say, "Ialii, you have no more sense than the Force gave a piggle," and Obi-Wan suppressed a smile.

Qui-Gon, who had mixed leaves from the assortment of jars at the table and was brewing their tea, raised his eyebrows at his apprentice's obvious amusement.

"Nothing, Master," Obi-Wan said quickly, and turned the subject. "Ah -- as I was saying before, the ship really could stand to -- "

At the counter Ialii, confirming the woman's estimation of him, squeaked like a piggle and then beseeched as she laughed at him, "Just look, Chydanio!"

To humor him, she looked over at the table in question, where the two men were sitting in profile to her. They were both Jedi, the younger man apprentice to the older, that much was obvious to the casual observer by their clothing and the braid the younger man wore. But as her gaze lingered on them she began to see the more subtle contrasts between them. Obi-Wan, although the stockier and more sturdily built of the two, still had much of the boy about him -- too much enthusiasm and confidence showed in his mobile features for the serious demeanor he obviously tried to project. And the taller man -- there was a sense of immense responsibility about him, his gravity a part of him as much as the younger man's seemed only a cloak he put on when he remembered to. And there was something more about the Jedi Master, or had seemed to be, when he'd first come in.... She wished she had her sketchbook with her. Both men, in their own ways, intrigued her.

She gave her considered opinion. "They don't look like they'll bite."

Ialii chuffed loudly, begging to differ.

Chydanio gave in and tied a clean serving cloth around her waist. "I don't know why I don't fire you," she muttered, grabbing two place settings from a pile near the counter.

"Because you love and adore me?" he suggested, and then whipped his tail out of reach before she could pull it again.

She took the long way -- around a large party of boisterous ornithicids, wings aflutter with the agitation of their arguments -- walking slowly and studying the two men with an eye to drawing them later. It was the only reason she noticed not only that how they drank their tea seemed like a ritual -- holding the cups just so with both hands, eyes closed and heads bowed, inhaling the steam before they sipped deeply -- but also, in some way that she couldn't explain, in the midst of the noise of the terrace and the crowds on the sidewalk and the traffic in the street, it was as if time stood absolutely still for them, creating a small space of calm for the span of that first sip. Then Obi-Wan looked up and saw her making her way towards them.

"It appears that we have a new waiter," he commented as he put down his cup.

Qui-Gon also looked up, and saw the woman who had saved Obi-Wan from breaking his neck when they'd arrived. "I wonder what happened to our variegated friend," he said mildly.

Obi-Wan suddenly thought of how very long it had taken him to realize that Qui-Gon, the man who from the moment they'd met he had trusted and respected and held in paralyzing awe, actually had a sense of humor. But once he'd made the discovery, he found that he genuinely liked the older man as a friend and enjoyed his company. "It was certainly nothing you *said*, Master," Obi-Wan assured him with a small smile.

"I trust not." And Qui-Gon, deadpan, shot him a look that went right through his skull and hit a tree in the park across the street.

*I've _got_ to learn how to do that!* Obi-Wan thought, almost breaking into a broad grin. But at that moment Chydanio reached their table, and her presence suddenly reminded him that such an expression was at odds with his image as a Jedi, and he schooled his features.

Chydanio, fascinated, found that she wanted to see Obi-Wan's grin very much. Sensing, though, that if she teased him it would only cause him to be embarrassed and hide behind his feigned maturity, she impulsively determined to tease his companion instead. Even if he *was* a Jedi Master.

"My apologies," she said, laying out their table linen, all efficiency and business. "I'm a poor substitute for your original waiter, Ialii. It seems, however, that you...disconcerted him." She smoothed a fold in a napkin. "He said your scent is like nothing he's ever come across before."

"*That's* a first," Qui-Gon mused, and raised his eyebrows at his apprentice. Obi-Wan tried to look unconcerned.

She went on matter-of-factly, placing their utensils, "He's never met a Jedi before. I think that, just as every emotional state has a distinct scent to him, so does the Force, and the stronger the Force, the more...peculiar the smell is to him."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Obi-Wan looking vindicated; since the Force was strongest of all with a Jedi Master, it was Qui-Gon who smelled funny, not him. If she pushed just a little harder.... She straightened and looked at them both. "He also said that one of you looked like a cross between a...warrior and an attorney, and that those kind of men are more dangerous than predators, even."

Obi-Wan's grin was like a ray of sunlight breaking through heavy clouds: sudden, bright, and so warm you wanted to raise your face to it in response. *Oh, that was definitely worth it,* Chydanio thought even as she turned innocent eyes to Qui-Gon and asked, having too much fun to stop now, "That wouldn't be you, would it?"

Obi-Wan had to turn away before he burst into laughter. Qui-Gon gave a small sigh and looked up at Chydanio. "I did seem to alarm Ialii," he admitted, "although that certainly wasn't my intention. There's nothing I can do about my scent, but please convey my regret for any distress I caused him."

When he'd begun to speak, Chydanio saw for a moment what Ialii had seen, and was herself a little alarmed. But only for a moment, because as she continued to look down into his blue eyes they almost seemed to open to her -- yes, there was the glint of amusement she only thought she'd seen earlier, now closer to the surface. And she also saw that his apology was genuine. There was definitely power and decision in this man, but there was also kindness. And she didn't realize that the teasing look had left her own eyes as she regarded him thoughtfully.

Someone leaned out the tavern doorway and bawled their table number, then pounded on the doorframe for emphasis. She bowed to the two Jedi. "I'll be right back."

Qui-Gon watched her walk away. Usually, he only noticed things such as her expression in passing, going beyond surface appearance to what lay beneath, searching for the Force in all its manifestations. But he found himself wondering briefly about her -- why she had reacted to him the way she had, and why the light in her eyes had changed right before she'd left to get their food. Then he shook his head slightly. It was none of his business, after all.

When she was safely out of earshot Obi-Wan turned back to Qui-Gon, his eyes dancing with suppressed mirth. "A warrior *and* an attorney, Master -- is that something I should be striving for?"

"Not necessarily," he responded equably. "I believe the question is whether you *could* appear more dangerous than a predator."

"Of course I could. I simply choose not to frighten the natives at every turn, as you do."

"Our new waiter doesn't seem to fear of me."

"Yes, but you don't smell 'peculiar' to her."

Qui-Gon took another sip of tea. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Obi-Wan?"

"Immensely, Master."