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

by: Melynda Jensen

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

The taller man made his way to the front of the terrace and stopped by the counter where Chydanio was standing. He leaned towards her so he wouldn't have to raise his voice to be heard, and found that she stood eye-level with him. "I want to thank you for your assistance," he said, and that close to her he couldn't help noticing the warmth in her gray eyes.

She shrugged a shoulder modestly. "Such as it was."

"Such as it was," he agreed. "Highly entertaining, eminently embarrassing, and as a reflection of you -- most intriguing."

She gave a small laugh, knowing he wasn't trying to charm her but feeling self-conscious all the same. "You're welcome," she answered his first comment. And then was able to add, "As a reflection of *you*, I never would have suspected a Jedi of being...mischievous."

His expression was blank, but she could see the glint deep in his eyes. "I've been described in many ways, but never with that particular word."

She assured him in a low voice, "Your secret's safe with me, Master Jedi."

The upturned corner of his mouth softened his stern features. "As is yours with me."

"And what would that be?"

"That you know how to make a Jedi Master feel at his ease."

She tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "Is that a well-kept secret?"

"It is." Obi-Wan came up then, and the two men nodded a farewell to her, Qui-Gon adding, "May the Force be with you." They walked out and crossed the street together.

Before Chydanio could figure out what he had meant, if anything, Ialii came out on the terrace, and his whiskers started to quiver. "That smell -- !" he exclaimed.

"The Jedi just left!" She was starting to get really annoyed with him. "I don't want to hear -- "

"No, *your* smell!" he insisted. "It's been years, that's why I couldn't place it! The last time your emotion was that scent was when Jancer was still alive."

She stared at him, impressed. "How can you possibly remember what I smelled like that long ago?"

He tapped his splotched muzzle. "The nose can't forget. It was the night he and I met you for the first time."

She thought back to that night -- and looked at him strangely. "Wait -- what's *that* supposed to mean?"

Ialii flicked his ears forward, then back. "That you feel like you've met someone who'll become your best friend and best waiter." He poked her nose with the tip of his tail and she grinned at him, wondering which Jedi had triggered that particular emotional state. But Ialii went on, "Or, you feel like you've met someone you could fall in love with..."

As the two Jedi started down the gentle slope of the park towards the business district at the far end, walking on the grass rather than the wide, well-traveled path so as to keep their conversation private, the Master asked, "Well, Obi-Wan?"

"It was a good meal."

"Yes, it was, although that isn't what I was referring to."

"Good service, too," Obi-Wan went on inanely, not sure how to broach the topic uppermost in his mind.

Qui-Gon gave him a sideways glance. "Yes." There seemed no other answer to make, and he waited for the younger man to unburden himself of whatever was preoccupying him.

"And our waiter..." Obi-Wan finally continued.

"Yes?"

"She was...not ill-favored."

"High praise indeed," Qui-Gon responded dryly.

"I mean..."

Qui-Gon stopped and faced his apprentice. "You *may* speak more plainly, young Padawan."

He tried again, blurted out, "Master, she *liked* you. And...you liked her."

The taller man stared, bemused, at him. "Liked," he finally said, drawing the word out as if he didn't quite understand its meaning.

"Liked. In the way that -- an ordinary person is attracted to another."

"Am I to understand that, one, you do not consider me an ordinary person, and two, that such a person should not -- or cannot? -- feel an attraction towards another person?"

"Master...*can* you?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms across his chest and gave Obi-Wan his full scrutiny. There was so much emotion behind the question, more than he could sort through at the moment. "Is the question actually, 'Can a Jedi?' If so, the answer is yes, of course. If the question is, 'Did I?' the answer is no."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you think I don't know my own feelings?"

"I know," he said slowly, "that, as a Jedi Master, you are more attuned to the Force and its manifestations than I am. But...if you don't recognize in yourself what I would consider in anyone else a -- chemistry, an attraction, if you don't realize that you interacted with her in a way I've never seen you interact with anyone else, then I feel you should re-examine what happened back at the tavern."

Genuinely curious, Qui-Gon asked, "To what end?"

"Perhaps you could...get to know her better. Maybe become friends, maybe..."

"...maybe...?"

The younger man frowned, deeply troubled. "Master, are you...do you ever get...lonely?"

Qui-Gon said nothing, realizing that he should have seen this particular conversation coming for a while now. His overriding concern had been Obi-Wan's development as a Jedi, and he hadn't paid as much attention to him becoming a man. And he knew now that, although the younger man's concern for him was genuine, their disjointed conversation had less to do with himself and the woman at The Sword and Stars than with Obi-Wan and all the questions a young man who'd had his share of casual liaisons but never the chance for a romantic attachment naturally had.

Obi-Wan stumbled on, "Because I want you to know that it wouldn't...I mean, if you...if ever...you see, I wonder if I...when I..."

Qui-Gon gripped Obi-Wan's shoulder and said gently, "You must learn to trust the Force, Padawan. You must learn how to trust love, knowing that everything has its proper beginning and end -- learn to experience love fully, and to let it go when the time comes."

He didn't need to see the look in Obi-Wan's eyes to know that his words and their meaning didn't converge for the younger man. Only experience would do that. And it was a hard lesson, Jedi or no.

More practically, he added in the same gentle tone, "The decision cannot be made in advance. And only you can make it. As for me -- I am living the life I want to, that I am meant to. I have no regrets."

They held each other's gaze steadily, until Obi-Wan took a deep breath and nodded once. Qui-Gon loosened his grip and clapped him on the shoulder, smiling down at him. "Patience, Obi-Wan. Patience, and trust." They continued through the park, walking more slowly, both deep in thought.

They had just reached a level stretch of grass before the park sloped away again when someone called out, "Master Qui-Gon!"

The Master turned, and inclined his head very slightly as he saw who had crossed the park to greet him, no expression on his face. "Y'Chelle."

She grinned up at him and his neutral greeting. "You're always so happy to see me," she teased.

He didn't rise to the bait. They both knew his opinion of her; it was hard for Qui-Gon to fully approve of a Jedi with her devil-may-care attitude, who wore her responsibility so lightly it seemed like play.

Qui-Gon's turn had blocked the newcomer from Obi-Wan's sight, and he moved around the Master to see who had joined them.

Y'Chelle was a slender, petite woman with jet-black hair cascading past her shoulders and dark, almond-shaped eyes. She was only a few years older than Obi-Wan and wore the hooded cloak and loose-fitting layered clothing typical of the Jedi, but instead of the courtly, solemn demeanor he'd come to expect from his long association with Qui-Gon, her emotions were plain on her lively face, and she turned her genuine, unaffected smile in his direction.

"You are Master Qui-Gon's Padawan learner?" she asked.

Before Obi-Wan could answer, the older man said with the deliberate tone of someone who was doing something against his better judgment, "Obi-Wan, this is Y'Chelle Anacris, who trained under Master Mace Windu. Y'Chelle -- Obi-Wan Kenobi, my apprentice."

Y'Chelle's infectious smile widened as she stepped lightly around the Jedi Master, moving with the grace of a dancer. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan found himself smiling in return, and he missed a beat before he managed to stammer, "Th-the pleasure is mine."

Qui-Gon shot a quick glance at his apprentice and raised an eyebrow. Springtime, indeed -- it didn't exactly take the Force to figure out what was going on.

He was sure Y'Chelle could see how Obi-Wan felt as well as he could and that she'd be kind enough not to break the boy's heart. He turned back to her; a word to the wise --

She was looking at Obi-Wan with obvious interest, as attracted to him as he was to her. And no, it didn't take the Force to see that, either.

Suddenly Qui-Gon felt quite old. And superfluous.

"So what brings you to Tivelis?" Y'Chelle asked them.

"An ion storm," Obi-Wan told her. "We're waiting it out before we continue on to Carlienti."

She nodded. "The same with me, except I'm on my way to Coruscant. I've never been to Tivelis before and thought I'd do some sightseeing." Y'Chelle looked at them both, but clearly meant her words for Obi-Wan. "Would you like to join me?"

Much as Qui-Gon disapproved of Y'Chelle's outward demeanor, she had passed her trials and was a distinguished Jedi Knight. And in any case, the very last thing he wanted to do was play chaperone to two people who would wind up in each other's arms before the night was through no matter *what* he did.

Besides, he thought suddenly, perhaps this was the perfect way for Obi-Wan to get a few of those answers he was looking for -- even for some questions he hadn't thought to ask yet.

He said aloud, "If you wish, go on ahead, Padawan. I'll...look into the feasibility of upgrading our hyperdrive."