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The Sword and Stars, Part l (2/3)

by: Melynda Jensen

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(See part 1 (1/3) for disclaimers)

Neither of them could help noticing that Ialii, who was serving a table nearby, carefully kept the Jedi upwind of him. As he turned away Chydanio caught up to him, her arms and hands balancing several plates of food. They bent their heads together and spoke in low tones, and she gestured towards Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, which made Ialii's fur spike briefly before he smoothed it with an effort and said something further to her. As if in answer, she started to walk away.

"...my table, Chydanio!" Ialii hissed loudly.

She hissed back, "Then *you* take these plates over there -- " The way his ears abruptly lay flat against his head was answer enough. "Then I get their tip -- if there is one, if their food isn't cold by the time -- "

He twisted his spotted tail in his paws, clearly torn. "What if...I serve the one with a tail and you serve the one with the face fur and we split it?"

She glared at him, incredulous. "Get. Back. To. Work!"

Chydanio turned back towards the table and saw two sets of blue eyes -- one pair twinkling, the other grave -- on her. She sighed and made it the last few steps to the table and set the plates down, offering the ritual words but in a harried tone, "Partake and enjoy."

"I hope we're not causing you any trouble," Obi-Wan said, smiling innocently.

"With the overgrown cat?" She laughed once and shook her head. "Don't misunderstand. We're old friends. I'm sure we'll survive two Jedi eating a meal here. Or at least a Jedi with a tail." She gave Obi-Wan a conspiratorial smile. "Ialii still has his doubts about the one with the face fur."

Obi-Wan suddenly realized that Chydanio was deliberately teasing Qui-Gon -- and had been, when she'd first come to their table. She'd just met him and she was taking the liberty -- ! And she did it so easily, with none of the deference he realized he'd assumed was a Jedi's right.

Affronted, he looked at Qui-Gon -- but instead of seeing his own emotion mirrored, he saw the Master glancing up at Chydanio, a corner of his mouth quirked upward. When Chydanio looked back down at him, his expression smoothed itself out and he regarded her with his usual calm. And she responded, not to that calm, but to his almost-smile, with a small, slow smile of her own.

She said again, this time meaning it, "Partake and enjoy."

Obi-Wan turned thoughtful. He was used to minutely observing the Master in all things and interpreting what he saw, and now he found himself wondering about something he never had before. He knew there were Jedi who had spouses and families and homes, but Qui-Gon had none of these. It suddenly occurred to him that in some ways, perhaps Qui-Gon had chosen to forego these things because of him. Taking on a Padawan learner was no easy task, and ideally a Jedi Master would have no distractions, no other ties.

He had never thought about Qui-Gon being in a relationship. He'd never thought about him being -- lonely.

"From the ferocious frown on your face, am I to assume that you're practicing to 'frighten the natives'?" Qui-Gon asked, breaking into Obi-Wan's reverie.

Obi-Wan focused back in on the moment and managed to answer in the same bantering tone, "I would never presume to steal your act, Master." And mechanically he began to eat, trying not to meet his eyes, trying to keep what he was thinking out of his face -- was he indeed the reason Qui-Gon was alone? And if the Master had chosen this path, would it be Obi-Wan's as well...?

Qui-Gon stared narrowly at his apprentice; obviously, *something* was disturbing him. He finally turned to his own food and decided that time would tell him what it was.

As Chydanio went back to the kitchen, Ialii stopped her short and leaned towards her, his whiskers arched forward and quivering.

"What is it?" she asked, and when he didn't immediately respond she kidded him, "Did some of their scent rub off on me?"

"Be serious," he said, regarding her thoughtfully. "There's something...I can't place it, but I think I've smelled it before." He puzzled a little longer.

"Good or bad?" she prompted.

He looked up into her gray eyes. "Good. I associate it with a good memory, I think." He flicked his ears forward, then back, his equivalent of a shrug, dismissing the thought.

Chydanio shook her head. "Strange cat..."

She went back out to the terrace after a while to check on the two Jedi and refill their teapot, and without raising his head Obi-Wan covertly examined her. She was broad-shouldered and stood almost as tall as the Master, her face weathered and a little careworn, and her short dark hair showed a few silver strands. Deep laugh lines bracketed wide-set gray eyes as well as a too-generous mouth under a slightly crooked nose. Not beautiful, not even pretty, but there was something compelling about her all the same.

"Can anything be improved?" she asked them.

Qui-Gon had been trying without much success to discuss with Obi-Wan his earlier concern about their ship's engines, but knew Chydanio's ritual question didn't refer to that. "Everything's fine. Thank you," he answered for the both of them, since the younger man seemed to be having great difficulty looking at anything but the plate in front of him.

Chydanio leaned over Obi-Wan. "And you, Jedi-with-a-tail -- is your meal complete?" she asked, smiling at him. He nodded silently, not raising his eyes, wanting simply to listen to her interact with Qui-Gon. The woman gave Qui-Gon an "Is he all right?" look. His answering "I don't know" look was clearly concerned.

So -- gravity and kindness, calm solemnity and controlled power, subtle humor and endless, endless responsibility. Chydanio folded her arms across her chest, wondering what to say that might get Obi-Wan's attention and help this Jedi Master out. "You know, just the other day we were talking about..." she improvised slowly, then recalled that they actually had had a discussion about -- "...the Jedi. If you don't mind, this is a good opportunity..."

Qui-Gon found himself wondering again about this woman -- why, with apparently the best of good will, she was trying to help him after having gone out of her way to tease him earlier. He didn't need to probe the Force within her to tell that there was no malice or guile there; he'd seen that much in her eyes. He would have decided to trust her -- if he hadn't found that he'd somehow given her his trust already. He hoped for the best, and that perhaps she might succeed where he hadn't.

"Certainly," Qui-Gon answered her, hoping this would turn Obi-Wan's thoughts outward. "What questions do you have?"

She recalled briefly. "Well, for instance, that 'mind trick' thing you can do..."

"It is a Jedi discipline called 'voice manipulation,'" the Master supplied helpfully.

"Voice manipulation," she repeated. "One of my cooks was saying that you can -- " She stopped suddenly and shot him a horrified look as she recalled the exact conversation. " -- um -- "

Seeing that Obi-Wan was at least listening, Qui-Gon inclined his head, encouraging Chydanio to continue.

Unable to think of anything else to say, Chydanio plunged on recklessly, "Well, you know what they say, but I find it hard to believe that someone as good-looking as your apprentice would have to resort to the Force to...find companionship." And the expression in Qui-Gon's eyes managed to be both stunned and immensely diverted at the same time.

"The Jedi use their powers only for good, you realize," he said with a perfectly straight face as they both watched Obi-Wan slowly turn red.

"Of course," she agreed, her discomfiture forgotten at the sight of the apprentice's. She added, unable to resist, "And just as a Jedi wouldn't use voice manipulation, neither would he, say, offer to...demonstrate his Jedi reflexes."

Clearly aghast, Obi-Wan's eyes widened.

"Or show how he draws his strength and...stamina from the Force," Qui-Gon added amiably. Obi-Wan nearly grimaced.

"Nor, in a similar situation, would a Jedi ever offer to show off his...lightsaber."

"I suppose that would depend on the size of the lightsaber."

Chydanio's jaw almost dropped, as did Obi-Wan's, but she came back with, "But isn't that when voice manipulation would come in handy?"

"As a matter of fact, my own Master, Yoda, is fond of saying, 'Size matters not'..."

Obi-Wan finally raised his eyes and stared at them, disbelief and indignation on his young face. "His *height*! He's referring to his *height*!"

"Of course he is," Qui-Gon said, serenely regarding him.

The apprentice, open-mouthed, looked up at Chydanio. She winked at him. He colored even more deeply, then he clapped his hands over his face, his shoulders shaking. Chydanio joined in his laughter. Then she rested her hand on his head briefly, tilting his face up to hers. "Beware, young Jedi," she counseled, smiling down at him. "Springtime on Tivelis can be contagious."

"I can see that," he said, then asked Qui-Gon, "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Master?"

Qui-Gon contented himself with his blandest "I have no idea what you're talking about" expression and poured him more tea. As Obi-Wan took a steadying sip, he realized he hadn't noticed when Chydanio left their table.

The two Jedi sat in companionable silence finishing their meal, Obi-Wan no longer hiding from Qui-Gon, and then the Master asked gently, "Is all well with you, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan made up his mind. "There is something I wish to discuss with you, Master, but not here."

Qui-Gon nodded. He arose and handed the wallet over to the younger man, advising, "Tip high, Obi-Wan -- in case our waiter has to split it."

Obi-Wan smiled up at him. "That was my thought as well, Master."