.                       Bonds of Choice #1
                   Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                          by HiperBunny
                        (message 1 of 2)
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"Focus.  Concentrate.  Don't think - feel.  Trust your instincts."

*If I had a credit for every time I've heard that ...* Obi-Wan thought. 
*Okay, so do it!*

Once again Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padawan, stepped onto the chair his Master had
set up for him.  A strong chord ran from two anchor points in the walls. 
He focused his thoughts.  Entered the present tense, the moment and he was
stepping onto the chord, focusing on it, feeling it through the Force,
breathing slowly, with control, finding balance within his body and mind. 
Focus.

The laser blast cut at him from high and to the right.  Lightsaber met the
attack easily as the vodbird floated around him, attacking from all
angles.  High, low, back, front, all sides were equally open to attack.  

Don't think - feel.

Obi-Wan defended himself seamlessly, returning each volley to the vodbird. 
When they stopped, he simply held himself ready.  When they began again, he
defended himself, advancing and retreating along the line, balance and
feelings in a harmony of actions.  He could see what was about to happen
and had the block in place before the attack began - Jedi traits, Jedi
training, Jedi abilities all together in this fluid dance of light and
energy and simple human flesh.

"Good.  You may come down now," said the calm, deep voice of his Master.

Just for fun, Obi-Wan executed a tight backflip for his dismount.  "May I
remove the blindfold, Master?"

"Yes, of course.  Go ahead and begin cooling down.  There is something I
want to discuss with you about this next mission." Qui-Gon was seated at a
low table near the window.  Stars sped by, and in the far distance Obi-Wan
could make out the shape of their quarry.

"Master, why are we on this mission? I thought we were to settle the trade
dispute of some sort, closer to the outer rim." Cooling down slowly to
prevent his muscles from stiffening up, Obi-Wan walked in little circles
beside the table.

"The Council has sent others to Naboo to deal with that.  We have enough
problems with traders right now without them thinking they can run slave
freighters under our noses.  This must be stopped before the Senate loses
what little bit of respect exists out here." Watching the stars pass by,
Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Master, was the picture of serenity.  He had kept his
student in the dark about the nature of the mission until just this moment.

"You said it was contraband goods! We're not just going to destroy that
ship when we get to her, are we?" Kenobi paused his step for a moment, then
continued his pacing.

"No.  We're going to attempt to board them, save what individuals we can. 
The hope is to take the ship intact and bring it back here." Qui-Gon went
to the console and pulled up a display of a star system.  "Martari, a
colony world.  We should be able to sort out there."

Obi-Wan filed the information away for future reference.

"Now, the complication to this is that the assault will be two-pronged, and
extremely dangerous.  I think it would be best if you and I split up, one
going with each boarding party," Qui-Gon poured a cup of water for his
apprentice and held it out to him.  It was accepted as the little circle
brought them close.  Obi-Wan sipped as he paced.  "Tell me what you
remember about smugglers' ships."

"Well, they're usually undermanned, overloaded and a technological
nightmare.  Everything sacrificed for the size of the cargo it can carry. 
No heavy weapons array, no personal quarters, very minimalistic on the
droids they carry.  Most smugglers seem to rely on sentient lifeforms for
their crew." He was dragging up every case of piracy and smuggling he could
recall, every precedent and past history, summarizing as patterns emerged. 
"They usually rely on speed and short trips to keep them out prison.  And
bribes in the right pockets."

"Except now they have us on their tail, and they've lost some of their
ship's drive capabilities in that little skirmish day before yesterday. 
They're fast, but not fast enough.  It will come to fighting, I'm sure. 
They're not ones to surrender easily." Qui-Gon gestured for his student to
sit.  "What I'm telling you is that you will be fighting sentient beings,
not droids.  I will not be at your side in this fight, although I do wish
it otherwise.  You are ready for this, Obi-Wan."

"You're telling me I may have to kill a person without you beside me?"
Obi-Wan quickly shuffled through memories of the battles he had seen. 
There were many to choose from, and many dangers survived.  He realized
that he had brought more than his fair share of death to the Universe,
especially for one with just 22 years; whispers of doubt and loathing
skirted through his mind.  They were immediately quelled with the
rock-solid assurance that the Force had guided his every action.  Pure and
unshakable training by his master had brought him to those moments in
time.  He briefly wondered how different killing might be without the
steadying presence of Qui-Gon at his side.

"I hope not.  We plan to break through the lower cargo holds, go upwards,
take the bridge in the forward central deck, then pilot the slaves and
goods back to Martari.  In theory, we shouldn't see much resistance.  Once
we breach the cargo bay doors, we'll have just two decks between victory
and us.  Through the bay, up through what we believe to be the prisoner
hold and onto the command deck." Another display lit up on the console,
outlining the attack.  The ship was simple and basic with four decks-- the
lower one being a cargo hold.  It had two main bay doors for loading on
opposite sides of the craft.  Taking both sides simultaneously would split
the strength of the skeleton crew even further.  

Obi-Wan saw the wisdom of the plan, but the thought of facing another
sentient being in battle, of taking a life, of doing this without his
master close at hand made his stomach clench hard.  Fear.  He locked down
on it, focusing, tracing the emotion back to its source where it could be
dealt with.

The unknown.  He was afraid of the unknown.  Well, he had his abilities,
his training, and the assurance that his master thought him ready.  These
were the only tools he needed to face the unknown.  He focused on the
moment, and let the fear go.

He looked up and found his master smiling at him.  "Very good, young
Padawan.  Very good."

**********

Sitting still had become less and less possible over the past few hours;
the Arata was fast approaching its quarry.  The vessel 'Kitgorian' had
failed to comply with Republic inspection standards, then bolted from port
as soon as the authorities began to make noises about it.  If they'd known
whom to bribe, this whole mess could have been avoided.  Instead, Padawan
Learner Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself getting a serious case of the
jitters.  His concentration was splintering piece by piece as their quarry
lost its head start on them.

*It's not fear this time.  It's something else.  Something important is
about to happen, and I feel it.  I can't quite see it yet.*  This had
happened on occasion, and he almost asked Qui-Gon if he sensed it as well. 
One look and he didn't need to ask.  The Jedi narrowed his eyes, then
relaxed them once every few minutes, a dead giveaway that he was trying to
work something out.  *Something IS about to happen, but I can't see it
because the outcome is unclear.*

Still, that didn't help with the pre-battle jitters.  

********

The boarding went pretty close to the plan.  The assault craft locked on to
the exterior of the cargo bay doors, and Obi-Wan entered the airlock.  The
inner doors closed behind him, then the outer doors opened to reveal the
naked hull of the smugglers' vessel.  He cut a rough doorway in the hull
using his light saber and held a careful breath while he kicked the center
loose.  Rush of pressure change as Obi-Wan closed the outer doors again. 
Then the inner door opened and the assault began.  

The Jedi ended up playing rearguard for most of the trip through the lower
cargo hold.  * Not that there's all that much to guard against.*

They made it to the ladder that led to the next deck up and emerged into
hell.  

This was the deck they were using to hold the prisoners.  Rows and lines of
sling-bunks marched from one side to the other.  Individuals were webbed in
place, apparently under some sort of sedation for the journey.  The hold
was bitterly cold, and every surface seemed to be frosted over from the
breathing of the humanoids imprisoned in their own bodies.  The air was not
the only thing that made Kenobi shiver.

One end of the room was a swarm of laser blasts and screams of pain.  The
catwalks above were thick with pirate crew blasting down into the hold. 
Obi-Wan shouted, "Take them out! Quickly!" The fighters with him spread out
and began mounting a defense for the helpless souls around them.  The young
Jedi could see that the force on the catwalk was now concentrating on a
single target, one that was giving them no small amount of difficulty.  He
made out a flash of white then blue, down one of the rows and ran towards
it.  *The enemy of my enemy ...*

He came up beside her, Light Saber at the ready, but not anticipating an
attack.  A figure in white with pale blue fur turned, nodded once and
gestured with a long silver-colored staff.  Kenobi directed his focus
towards the intended target that was being pointed out - one of the catwalk
supports.  The other support was swaying crazily but went unnoticed, as it
was supporting a path unused by the enemy force.  A quick dash, and Obi-Wan
cut through the other support.  

The catwalk swayed under its own weight, twisting as it tumbled and making
a sort of helix arcing from the floor, up to the remaining pathway, and
back down to the floor.  Defending himself from the laser fire as he ran,
Kenobi dashed to the other end.  His new ally made it to the other side of
the twisted arch and began climbing up.  The added weight pulled everything
just a little off balance, with a jump and he had hold of the steel mesh
that made up the floor of the ex-walkway.  His weight corrected the
near-collapse, and he put his Lightsaber in his teeth and climbed quickly. 
He could see his co-conspirator coming up the other side just as quickly;
they reached the top almost simultaneously, with enemies on either side of
them turning to cut them down.

They stood back to back, Obi-Wan finding that calm place within his focus
once more.  The blaster fire and its deflection became the only reality. 
Somewhere below him he caught the greenish glow of Qui-Gon's saber, but
then it was gone, and there was only motion and the moment and the feel of
a stranger guarding his back.  His breathing came less easily, but the
nearest fighters were down.  Taking a step towards the others, Obi-Wan let
his precognition take control; he fluidly deflected the oncoming fire and
cut down his enemy one by one.  When the last one was down, and still, he
turned, looking for his comrade.

The catwalk had been cleared of danger.  Swinging over the side, Obi-Wan
dropped to the floor below and rejoined his group as they made their way to
the bridge

*********

The captain had surrendered by the time Obi-Wan arrived.  Qui-Gon was
quietly advising the leader of the assault team but turned away with a
smile and a nod when he saw Obi-Wan.  "Come, Padawan.  We are not needed
here."

Obi-Wan followed his master back down to one of the boarding vehicles, onto
the Arata and into their quarters in silence.  Qui-Gon had hot tea on the
table between them before they spoke.

"All right, tell me what happened," he opened.  

Obi-Wan drew in a breath.  Making sure his voice would be steady, he
collected his thoughts.  He opened his lips to reply, but a small choking
sound was all he could manage.  He looked at his master closely for the
first time in many days.  The gentle hands, the purposeful gaze, the soft
lips and thick hair came into sharp focus.  A man of peace, a man of
justice, a man of purity and light looked back at him through his master's
eyes.  

*Too beautiful,* Obi-Wan thought.  It was too beautiful, when so much
ugliness had just surrounded him, so he closed his eyes for a moment. 
There, in the darkness, the images of the battle came back, more clearly
than he had seen them in the moment they had occurred.  The ugly mayhem he
had brought into being, using the skills his gentle teacher had so
carefully given him.  He smelled again the cauterized flesh of a once
living being, saw the torso separate as life was destroyed.  Within him the
echoes of screams, the smell of offal as dead bodies voided, tasted his own
blood from where he had accidentally bitten his own lip.  The faces of
those he had killed, their bodies fallen around him.  These people, he
knew, had families, comrades who would miss them.  These beings had been
loved or hated but were now, because of him, just dead.  He opened his eyes
again, then folded his arms on the table and put his head down.  

Qui-Gon held him while he wept.

****************

The dreams had chased him back into wakefulness, and he was confused for a
moment, but not at the fact that the shadows were unfamiliar, as was the
room and bed.  He didn't really have a room to call his own anymore.  No,
the oddness was familiarity.  His boots were off, as well as his cloak. 
Just pants and shirt on, now that he thought about it, and something
familiar.  A sound?

No.  A smell.  Obi-Wan put his hand out across the bed and encountered the
locks of his master's hair.  Hm.  Why were they in the same bed? Not that
this was an odd occurrence.  Even the prestigious Jedi were put into
situations where they were lucky to have a place to lay down at all.  But
on the Atara, they had been assigned a suite with a smaller bedchamber to
one side for Obi-Wan.  *Something must have happened ... I'll just go to
bed.*

He was snuggled down between the cool sheets before the memories pounded
back to the forefront of his mind.  He sat up, screaming wordlessly.  

Qui-Gon was at his side instantly.  "Shh, shh.  It's okay, it's over now."

"It'll never be over.  This is what my life will be, forever! I've always
known it, but now it's real.  They'll die and die, because if they don't
I'll die," the young Padawan was sobbing helplessly.  "I'm sorry, Master. 
I've failed you totally."

"You must sleep.  I'll put you under, and we'll talk about this tomorrow,"
Master Jinn touched his student's moist cheek.  "Relax."

It was not the sleep of the dead, but just enough to rest him for the
lessons he must learn.

*********

Obi-Wan's body dragged him back into the land of the living at the normal
hour the next day.  He ran on autopilot long enough to get to the training
area, where he sank to his knees and waited for Qui-Gon.  His master was
not long in arriving.  Obi-Wan stayed at rest, waiting for his master's
word.

"How do you feel, Padawan?"

"Angry, disgusted, sad.  Afraid."

"And what are you afraid of?"

Kenobi tried to center himself, to find the balance that had come so easily
just one day before.  "I'm afraid that I have failed you, that all your
time has been wasted on me.  I don't know what is wrong with me.  How could
I do ... the things I've done? Why did you teach me how to do them? If this
is the path of the Light, I don't see how the Dark Side can be all that
much worse." Obi-Wan half wanted to take his words back, but also wanted to
shout them to the world.

"Then you can see how doubt and fear lead to the Dark Side.  I think all
that is really needed now is a bit of perspective.  Come along."

Obi-Wan followed his master out of their room and down one deck to another
private suite.  Qui-Gon touched the panel by the door, and a chime rang
within.  "Come," someone called, and the door slid back.  

Qui-Gon turned to his student and gestured for him to enter first.  When
Obi-Wan turned, his master was gone.  The door closed behind him, and he
scanned the room for its occupant.  Finally he spied a still form in a tiny
alcove to the left.  "Hello?"

"Greetings.  I see you survived the fray.  My name is La'Karata Nurian.  I
wanted to thank you for your help with saving my people." The figure stood
and stepped into the light Obi-Wan recognized the blue person from the
slave hold.  "You're all right? Your people? Can you explain that a little
better?" 

"It could have been a lot worse.  As soon as the attack began, those
bastards came down and started picking us off.  If you hadn't stopped them,
I fear no one would have survived.  Now instead of dying unknown by the
orders of Gardola the Hutt, we can make our way back to Nevatha and begin
again."

"Your whole race? You can't be serious! There was no more than a few
thousand in that hold." His words were cut off as she stepped closer.  He
could see that the blue was actually a short, thin fur that covered her
body.  Pale cream stripes and spots mottled the upper arms and shoulder
that was exposed by her simple wrap.  

"Oh yes, Jedi Kenobi.  We have waged wars and wars, trying to retain our
freedom.  Our numbers have been diminished, but we still remain.  As long
as the Nurians survive, so do our people.  I am still here, and so are a
few others, so have no fear for us.  We have survived worse than being
hijacked, rescued and relocated.  The reason I am here is that you have
rendered great service to us and must be rewarded.  I have been selected to
provide this reward.".  Stepping closer, she took his hand.

 "Please, La'Karata Nurian, I seek no reward, wish no gratitude.  I did
that which was mine to do, no more."

"But no less, and surely you understand that what you do is ... special. 
Now I will offer you something equally special." Her mouth closed over his,
and he found himself lost in the drift of his own thoughts.  Her mouth
sucked at his, opened and explored easily, with calm familiarity.  He
closed his eyes and relaxed, felt her body go boneless against his.  He
wrapped his arms around her, seeking connection, reaching to find ... 

He broke off abruptly.  "No, no.  I do not want this.  This was a mistake,
please forgive me." He stepped back, towards the door.

"Obi-Wan, wait.  Listen, listen."

He paused instinctively, ready to hear all that was and was not said.  

"You have a strong capacity for love in your heart, one that you do not
always acknowledge.  Emotion that strong can be both a strength and a
weakness at the same time.  If you do not find its place in your destiny,
it may destroy you." She turned to a table and picked up a long slender
box.  "Here you will find one of the more ... eclectic gifts of the
Nurians.  If you wish to follow the path of desire, these will be
invaluable to you.  But first, you must find that path and decide whether
or not to take it."

He opened the box and found three long vials of oils and a set of
exquisite, exotic plumes.  Beside these were the Palele branches and a
round shaker.  Opening this, he saw a goodly supply of pale pink powder
known for its sensual properties.  His eyes widened.  "This is worth a
fortune.  Cava, Meran and Srepha oils, the plumes ... I can not accept
these.  They would only travel the stars with me.  These should be given to
those who would use them." He closed the box and held it out to her.

"Think before you offer them to me.  Look closely at everything here.  I
know you aren't some blushing virgin, even if you play the part of a
cloistered monk.  Nobody grows up in that den of iniquity the capital has
become and stays pure.  Feel; know your instincts and desires.  That is the
first rule of the Nurians, and perhaps the only advice I can give you.  We
thank you for your help." She turned away from him and drew on her cloak. 
"I must get back to the others.  They will need my skills."

"What are you to them? Leader? Healer?" a multitude of questions bubbled to
his lips.

"I am what needs to be, and that changes from moment to moment." She picked
up her staff, and he saw it was now a slate gray, not the bright silver he
remembered.  "You will always be a friend to us, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Your name
is in our book of heroes."

And like Qui-Gon, she was gone.  He looked around the now empty room, his
brain just now catching up to all that she had said.  Kneeling down, he
centered himself in the pose of rest and reflection.  Setting down the box,
he blew out an exasperated breath "Calm yourself," he whispered.  If ever
he needed the guidance of the Force, it was now.

The universe fell away.  Obi-Wan  focused on his movements, lifting the box
lid again and laying items out neatly.  To his left he arranged the three
bottles of oil and the Palele branches.  On his right he placed the bundle
of plumes and a small coil of twine.  Beneath the plumes Obi-Wan found a
slim volume.  It was handwritten, in TeVadarian, not his best language. 
There were lovely illustrations that also seemed to have been hand
painted.  He took a deep, cleansing breath, and began the laborious task of
translating the information.

Hours later Obi-Wan put the book aside and rose to stretch his limbs.  The
painful return of circulation to his lower extremities caused him to check
the time.  Good, a while yet before his master would miss him.  Time
enough, though.  Gathering up his gift, Obi-Wan placed the assorted items
on the table and arranged them according to the book's careful
illustration.  Then he moved to the open area in the center of the room and
moved through several poses and exercises to wake himself more fully to
emotion.  Obi-Wan's focus became centered on what he wanted, that which he
most desired, and he directed his focus into making it a reality.  

Taking up the coil of twine, Obi-Wan separated one barely visible thread
from the bundle.  He laid it carefully aside and took up the bundle of
feathers.  From the array of textures and colors, he selected three rich,
blue plumes and placed them beside the thread.  Then Obi-Wan took one long,
roughly barbed feather, and put it before him on the table.  The others he
bundled back together and placed back in the box.  From the Palele branches
he took one about as thick as his smallest finger and began removing the
dry leaves and twigs, then the outer bark, which left him with a perfectly
smooth wand about equal with the length of his arm.  

Turning the pages of the book absently with the Force, he also used that
power to lift the rough-barbed feather before him.  He considered it from
all sides, then delicately stripped all the barbs upward, off the quill,
leaving just the wide, round, flat head attached.  The barbs were green and
golden, the same as the round pattern in the tip.  They gathered up against
that pattern in a fluffy, wild bunch.  He took the Palele wand in one hand,
held it against the long quill, and caught the thread up, guided and
touched only by his control of the Force.  Then he began the long process
of wrapping the quill to the wand.  

When the first feather was finished, Obi-Wan began the ritual again, with
the softer, blue feathers.  This time the going was even more slow as he
took his time to wrap carefully around the barbs as they stood on the
quill.  These feathers were too delicate to be altered in any way, so he
took the finest care to protect each fine plume.  The book explained that
this technique had been developed by a culture with very strong telekinetic
powers.  Obi-Wan felt his use of the Force was about as close as he would
come to those abilities in this lifetime, and he was grateful for all the
long hours Qui-Gon has spent in his training.  *Perhaps I can give some of
that care back.* 

When he laid the completed feathers down, he discovered that his body was
trembling, and slick with sweat.  He decided to push himself a bit and
complete the creation, although time was running short.  Focusing on the
moment, he pushed that consideration from his mind.  On the side of the box
was a long, flat drawer, built into the false bottom.  He pulled it out,
took out one of the many packets, and drew his light saber.  He took also
from the drawer a small metal dish.  Into this he placed the aromatic herbs
from within the packet, and he lit them with his saber.  Not quite to
ritual specifications, but there was reverence in the act.  When the smoke
was billowing nicely, he held the feathers within it.  The long barbs took
on a bronze glow, as if they might be burning from within, then shifted to
red, and progressed through the visible light spectrum.  When they
luminesced indigo, Obi-Wan spoke the name of the one this pair had been
created for.

"Qui-Gon Jinn."

Abruptly the glow departed, and he was left holding two very precious
Feathers of Heaven.

He packed his gift, and with it, his hope, then made his way back the
quarters he shared with his master.  His clothes were as sweaty and
wrinkled as if he had spent the whole morning in strenuous exercise. 
Stripping down and getting into the fresher cubicle, he let the pulses
remove the waste from his skin, which left him pink and clean  He was into
clean clothes with the speed learned early on in his training.  Every fold
perfect, his hair in place, and ready to face whatever the Universe had
chosen to throw at him today.  The Feather box he stowed in his personal
storage then sat to wait for Qui-Gon.  

His master entered, nodding to his apprentice before making his way into
the fresher.  Qui-Gon looked tired, wrung out from whatever he'd been doing
all morning.  Obi-Wan was selfishly grateful to know that his master might
be just as tired as he himself was.  When the other Jedi returned, he waved
one hand towards the catering unit and sat down at the low table.  Obi-Wan
wasted no time in dialing up and serving a meal for them.  They ate in
silence, until Qui-Gon pushed his chair back and folded his hands at his
waist.

"It seems the entire slave cargo was the remaining population of a planet
called Kurasa.  The Hutt have taken it by now, I'm sure.  The Nurians say
it has been rendered useless to their people as a home.  We spent all day
and found a new colony world for them.  It's a little further to go, but
La'Karata Nurian assures us that they will be able to survive on their own
without further assistance from us or the Republic."  Qui-Gon fixed his
apprentice with a narrow look.  "She also tells me that her people rewarded
you."

"Master, I tried to refuse, to return it, but it seems there are
complications with this particular gift." Obi-Wan began.

"Normally, I would march you down there and see it returned immediately
..."

Obi-Wan felt his stomach turn over.

"However," Qui-Gon continued, "After spending a few hours with La'Karata, I
believe you.  Perhaps if I saw this gift, I could understand what was so
special about it."

Now his stomach was running through an enthusiastic aerobic workout.  "You
want to see the gift?"

"Yes.  Now will be soon enough."

"Yes, Master, of course." He rose to retrieve the box.  "But please
understand, if I offer this gift to you, and you feel you can not accept, I
will have to destroy them."

"Really? Is it that important? Perhaps you should make your own decision in
this regard."

"No, Master.  There is no other being I could offer them to." Obi-wan took
the box out of the cabinet and set it on his chair.  After clearing the
dishes from the table, he placed the box before his master.  "I followed
the instructions for the creation of this pair.  Although there are
supplies here for perhaps fifty pairs, I will destroy them all if it is
your wish."

He lifted the lid and took out the two carefully worked Feathers of
Heaven.  Placing them before Qui-Gon, he looked up.  Hope shone in his
eyes.

Qui-Gon looked at the objects before him, then back at his young
apprentice.  Obi-Wan took out the oils and set them beside the feathers,
then added the shaker of Heaven Dust to the offering.  "Do you know what
these are for?" he asked his student.

"Yes, Master.  There were rather detailed instructions included." He held
the book out for his master's approval, but it was waived aside.

"And you understand what this offer implies?"

"Well, if it's only an implication at this point, I'd rather just say it
out loud.  I care about you very deeply, and I wish to offer you a sexual
relationship, Master."

"Not love undying? Not eternal devotion to my very being?"

"I do not have these things to offer at this moment.  If they are required
of me, let us destroy these and never speak of it again." Obi-Wan reached
for his light saber and made ready to undo all the hours of work he had put
into the crafting of the gift.  

"No, no.  Do not do that yet.  I ask because yesterday you went through an
extremely unsettling experience, and now you come to me with this offer,"
Qui-Gon began.

"I meant to save these until I knew exactly how I felt.  Your request
pressed the point," Obi-Wan explained.  His heartbeat was picking up, and
he moved to control his breathing.  He knew he loved Qui-Gon, deeply, and
with all the devotion described.  He had fought this bond so long it might
be too late to let it be.

And besides, Qui-Gon made no indication as to whether or not the feelings
could be reciprocated.

"Obi-Wan, put these away.  Do not destroy them, but put them aside.  It
will be as though the offer was not made.  If, at some future point, you
feel you can honestly offer them to me, then we will have this conversation
again."

Obi-Wan let out a sigh of relief and packed his gift away - still no
indication of acceptance, but no outright rejection, either.