Disparate Jedi

by ardavenport

- - Part 1 - -

Obi-Wan Kenobi lost sight of Qui-Gon Jinn in the crowd.

Four large, burly creatures carrying heavy luggage on their shoulders muscled their way in front of Obi-Wan. Then a gaggle of chirping tourists in loose, colorful dresses and wielding holo-recorders and shade umbrellas. A family of three adults and ten children. Two droids guiding a lifter cart of luggage. Single females, males and unidentifiables of various species. A smattering of weary travel veterans pushed through toward docking bays that they come and gone through many tines.

Nearly all of them seemed to be taller than Obi-Wan. His steps slowed as he continued to find his way through the jostling bodies. The speech of many species and machines rumbled together into an unintelligible background that filled the open area of the Limostos Spaceport.

Obi-Wan's focus divided between his awareness of the crowd around him and keeping himself moving toward Qui-Gon. That direction felt subtly different to him through the Force. A driver steered a long, low lifter in front of him and Obi-Wan spied his Master's head and dark brown robe moving toward their destination. Obi-Wan hurried around the lifter and quickened his steps.

He had nearly caught up with Qui-Gon when he turned into a wide corridor. They passed under a sign directing them toward docking bays 243-p'wa thru 324-p'wa. The crowds were a little thicker as they passed by food kiosks and stores selling travel trinkets and supplies. News holos and music entertainments murmured under the noise of motion and talking and commerce.

271-p'wa. . . . 272-p'wa. . . . 273-p'wa. . . .274-p'wa.

Even before they got to their destination, Obi-Wan spotted Master Narimoyak's horned head by the bay entry. A tall shiny silver droid scanned the IDs of passengers as they entered an open bay door. Beyond, they could see a large, orange and bronze transport ship, its boxy body dominated by the enormous hyperspace engines at its rear. Another silver droid at the ramp gave directions and occasionally helped with the belongings of the line of passengers. Round-bodied droids ferried luggage up through another ramp, further down on the ship.

Narimoyak turned, spotting them, and nodded as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan approached. They bowed. Qui-Gon looked around curiously.

"Where is Master Tekta? We were instructed to meet her."

Narimoyak sighed. "She's not here yet." She gestured toward a very slight girl wearing a short, tan and blue dress under a light brown Jedi robe. "This is her Padawan, Kokom. Apparently she has been delayed by something." The girl bobbed toward Qui-Gon. Her scaly skin was a pretty shade of green, her eyes a bright blue like the sky in an oxygen-rich atmosphere. She was very small and thin. The tops of her two eye stalks barely came up to Qui-Gon's chest.

"Master Tekta said that we shouldn't wait for her to board," Kokom said in a high, clear voice. Obi-Wan spotted the flick of a thin, green tail between Kokom's ankles. Qui-Gon looked inquiringly at Narimoyak.

"I don't understand it either," she replied, shaking her head. "We were told to come here and meet her for this transport as well. And give her any assistance she requires. That was all." Narimoyak was a tall, elegant Zabrak, with brown skin, lined with age, ivory-yellow horns and long, claw-like nails. Her pale brown eyes went to another being standing with them. He was an Ithok, or some related species, with thick, rough, but pale skin with dark brown horns that pointed downward from the sides of his head. Plain, stringy brown hair was combed back from the crown and sides of his head, except for a Padawan's braid, much longer than Obi-Wan's, woven with beads and colored bands.

"This is my Padawan, Dyuda Plum." He inclined his head toward them, his horns dipping before him. He wore a dark brown robe, like Qui-Gon's, over brown Jedi tunics, pants and boots. The edge of his robe partially covered a silver and gold lightsaber. Narimoyak wore the usual tunics that Obi-Wan remembered her wearing, a long, light brown tunic that went down to her ankles, brown boots stuck out under the hem. Her obi and the single, wide stole that hung down past her knees were a lighter, off-white and her long lightsaber was mostly silver.

Obi-Wan looked down at Kokom again, and her very un-Jedi-like attire. Narimoyak noticed his gaze and smiled.

"Apparently, Tekta and Kokum spent some time on the equatorial islands here and less formal dress was required. And they did not have time to change before coming here." Narimoyak's voice was low, full and feminine. "And," she continued. "This is Kokom's first mission. She has been Tekta's Padawan for. . . .43 days now, I believe." Narimoyak laid her hand on the girl's slender shoulder. Kokom's head lowered, her mouth puckered with embarrassment. Knowing exactly how she must feel, Obi-Wan kept his features neutral. At seventeen standard years, he was less often the youngest Padawan in a group of Jedi, but those memories were still fresh enough to make him sympathetic toward the girl.

"We should...board now," Kokom said, nodding to them all.

Narimoyak agreed and they went together to the bay door. After the first droid cleared them, they joined the line at the ramp.

"Do we know what assistance Master Tekta requires?" Qui-Gon asked as they slowly paced forward.

"No we don't." Narimoyak answered. Kokom glanced up at her, but didn't speak. "Apparently, Tekta is trying to meet someone before we leave. If she is successful, then our assistance will not be needed after all."

"What was your mission, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked Kokom.

"We were given a special assignment by the Jedi Council," she answered solemnly, her large, blue eyes steadily looked back up at the much larger Jedi Master. For a moment, Obi-Wan was afraid that Qui-Gon would demand more, but he merely frowned and silently accepted the answer. 'Special assignments' were not discussed unless necessary.

Obi-Wan looked down at Kokom, and wondered why a 'special assignment' would be given to a Master with such a new Padawan.

The ramp droid cleared them and gave them their compartment assignment. It asked if they wished to take their travel packs. The four of them, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Narimoyak and Dyuda had travel backpacks. They all declined. They went up the ramp and followed another silver ship droid down a corridor. It was well lit, with soft, yellow-tinted lights and gleaming bronze fixtures. Their reservations (made by either Tekta or the Council) entitled them to a private compartment, much nicer than the cheaper, more crowded passenger areas of the ship. They entered a spacious room, with seven plush seats, arranged in semi-circle around a low gold-topped table.

After they all put their travel packs into the storage shelves by the door, Narimoyak slid in around the table to sit next to the compartment's viewport. Dyuda sat next to her. Then Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon on the end. Kokom took a seat opposite them, the two remaining empty seats on either side of her. Her eye stalks nervously stood up straight from the top of her head as she faced her elders.

Obi-Wan could practically recite the calming exercise that she was so obviously repeating to herself. Kokom's eye stalks lowered; she put the hood of her robe up and folded her tiny arms before her; they disappeared into the sleeves. Narimoyak pulled the hood of her robe up over her horned head and folded her arms before her as well. Then Qui-Gon did the same thing.

Obi-Wan looked at Dyuda, who calmly looked back with dark green eyes.

"Did you have to good trip here?" Dyuda asked in a very deep voice. This was the first time Obi-Wan had heard him speak.

"Um, yes. It was fine." There had been nothing special, good or bad, about their last transport. The travel had been entirely forgettable.

"Hm. Ours was bit of a rush." Dyuda went on. "We had barely finished when we got the call to come over here. No explanation at all. Just go."

"Our transport had stopped here on the way to Coruscant, and we got a message to take this one. Nothing else," Obi-Wan told him.

Dyuda looked resigned. "I don‛t really mind, I suppose. Not knowing." He smiled. He had very small, brown-stained teeth. "But I do feel that we might be more effective if we knew what we were being sent to do."

Obi-Wan grinned and agreed. Then his smile faded; they both looked forward again and the room lapsed into a wordless silence that seemed to emanate from the two Masters on either side of them. Obi-Wan sensed that Kokom was slightly less nervous, across the table from them. Dyuda settled back in his seat next to him.

Obi-Wan knew very little about Dyuda Plum, other than what he had read recently in a Temple notice. Mixed in with notes about Coruscant traffic, infants and small children taken into the Temple, Knightings, elevations to Master and maintenance schedules in the lower levels, had been one item that had caught his attention; Master Narimoyak had taken Dyuda Plum as her Padawan Learner after the death of his first Master. There had been no details other than the deceased Master's name, and nothing was said about Narimoyak, who had been rescued by Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan from a transport ship crash that had killed her own young Padawan nearly two years ago.

Dyuda was an older, senior Padawan, of an age when many took their Trials to Knighthood, but he had been paired with Narimoyak instead. Though he would not say anything, Obi-Wan wondered about the recent loss of Dyuda Plum's first Master, and that he had been paired with a Master whose own Padawan had died. There were no visible scars of sudden tragedy, no wounds of grief that he could sense through the Force, but Obi-Wan knew they had to be there. Jedi were supposed to live without attachments, so those who died were let go to pass into the Force, but they still left marks of emotion in their wake. Qui-Gon had gravely said that letting go did not mean being unchanged. Lacking his Master's detachment about the future, Obi-Wan wondered what hidden changes he would bear were he in Dyuda's place.

"What was your mission?" Obi-Wan asked Plum tentatively.

"We were assigned to be arbiters on Tumak 37," Dyuda answered. "They had recently convicted a significant crime lord, and a wealthy one. The division of the spoils was so acrimonious among the interested parties that it was supposed to threaten the de-stabilization of the whole government." Plum shook his head. "That was an over-exaggeration, but they did benefit from our counsel, I think," he finished in his low, resonant voice. "You mission?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "We were the observers at the Passing of the Custodianship of the Living History Lands on Pozph-Din." The bridge of Dyuda's nose crinkled; he obviously didn't recognize the reference; Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't have before this mission. "It's outside the Republic. Darth Yarr was defeated there." He named an ancient Sith. Dyuda's eyes widened.

"Aaaaah. So for their Living History Lands, they asked for Living Jedi?" Obi-Wan nodded. Next to him, he sensed a tiny bit of discomfort from his Master. The Ritual of Passing, though far from traumatic, had been. . . . interesting. Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, hoping that Qui-Gon did not think that he would speak of any of the details in such a casual setting, even to another Jedi.

A gentle chime sounded. The door to their compartment slid open.

"There you all are," Tekta's loud voice declared from the doorway. She stood, bundled up in her brown robe, her three, raised eyes looking at them from under the edge of the hood. She entered and headed for the empty seat next to the viewport, across from Narimoyak. He Padawan hastily pulled her legs up and scrunched back into her seat to let her Master pass.

"Were you successful then, Tekta?" Narimoyak asked, the hood of her own robe turning toward her friend. Obi-Wan knew that the two older Masters had known each other for years, though he and Qui-Gon only knew them in passing.

"Absolutely," Tekta announced as she settled her full brown robe around her. "All taken care of." She tugged her hood up over her eyes and settled back in the plush seat, her arms folded before her. Everyone looked Tekta.

"And?" Narimoyak pursued. Qui-Gon moved in his seat, clearly just as interested at everyone else.

"If you are so curious, you are all quite at liberty to ask the Council about it when we get back," Tekta told them. Narimoyak sat back, away from the rebuke, her expression cloaked under her hood. Apparently their friendship did not invite any confidences about missions for the Council. Or even politeness.

Qui-Gon settled back in his seat. Obi-Wan and Dyuda silently looked at each other. The Ithok then sighed, accepting their ignorance, the tips of his dark horns going past his shoulders as he shook his head. The tension level in Kokom, motionless across the table from them, increased.

The door chime sounded again.

Obi-Wan and Dyuda looked up.

A stout woman in a pink business suit with pale orange and gold trim stared at them from the doorway.

"Um, is this the last seat, then?" she asked the shiny ship droid at her side.

"Yes, Madam. All the other first class compartments are taken. There are some accommodations in the coach areas, if you would prefer, but we cannot refund the difference in your ticket at such a late time," it informed her in a pleasant machine voice.

The woman nervously eyed the one empty seat in their compartment.

"No, I don't think so. This will be fine." She entered. The dull gold-plated door slid shut behind her. She put a pink and gold travel case next to the plain brown and gray Jedi packs in the open storage shelf and then took her seat. She was accompanied by a faint, floral aroma of perfume.

Obi-Wan carefully didn't stare at her, though his glance toward Dyuda showed that his fellow Padawan was just as confused as he was.

There was absolutely nothing unusual about the new arrival. She was shorter than Obi-Wan, but not by much and while she was heavy set, she wore an attractive tailored suit. From her appearance, she was in her late, middle years for a humanoid. Her short, wavy gold hair was silvered with a touch of age. Her facial make-up matched her clothing in subtle tones of pinks and gave her an appearance of authority without any attempt to look younger. She was as well dressed as any business traveler or Coruscant official Obi-Wan had ever seen. She was exactly the sort of person they would expect to see in a first class compartment, except for one thing.

She was afraid of them.

It was a deep fear of. . . . exposure, like a person unexpectedly stuck at a party full of telepaths. It was common knowledge that Jedi could sense thoughts and feelings through the Force, but there were plenty of other species with stronger talents. Anyone with a secret to hide and going into a crowded spaceport, would have enough personal discipline to not give themselves away to any casual thought reading.

Obi-Wan had encountered this sort of fear before; all Jedi had. Jedi were recognized as keepers of justice in the Republic and some people automatically reacted that way to any authority figure, whether they had done anything or not. And even if they had done something, it was usually something that a Jedi wouldn't care about. Many people over-estimated the importance of their actions to the people around them.

Sitting next to the woman, Kokom had picked up the fear and her nervousness had gone back up. The young girl sat rigidly forward, tensely not moving.

The ship's open com announced that they were about to lift off. A moment later it did, with a quiet rumble that could be felt from the body of the ship through the floor and the seat. Shortly after that, Obi-Wan saw black space and bright stars outside the viewport. The ship cruised out of orbit and then jumped to hyperspace.

The door chimed again. After a pause, the door of the compartment slid open.

"May I take your orders for refreshment?" the silver droid asked.

"Yes," the woman answered immediately. Her fear had ebbed; she had apparently accepted their presence. She asked for a strong caf and a light meal of soup and wafers.

Narimoyak pulled her hood back off her horned head and asked for pressed cana sticks, micana butter and juice. Dyuda asked for a full meal of stew, salad and water. Qui-Gon asked for sapir tea, pate sandwiches and plin-sugar cookies. Obi-Wan asked for edut bread and sliced meils, with juice.

"Padawan, would you like anything?" Narimoyak asked Kokom after a noticeable pause. Her Master sat in the corner, a bundle of slumped brown robe, faint, heavy breathing coming from it. Kokom's hood went from side to side, a silent negative. Narimoyak tilted her head with a curious expression, but said no more. The droid hurried off, the door sliding behind it.

"Are you going to Coruscant on business, or returning?" Narimoyak asked the woman in the pink suit. The expression on the elder Jedi Master's was mild and friendly. The woman started.

"Oh, aah, I'm returning actually. I finished my business here," she answered before straightening her suit jacket.

"As are we," Narimoyak continued. "Pardon me, I am Narimoyak, and this is Dyuda." Her Padawan silently nodded his horned head.

"Oh, yes, of course." The woman's eyes darted over the whole row of Jedi facing her. "I'm sorry. I am really not usually this nervous. But. . . . this all seems just so awkward." Her confidence seemed to grow with each word, as if the act of speaking gave her strength.

"Awkward?" Narimoyak asked, curious.

"Well, yes, actually. You're all Jedi," she gestured at them. Next to her, Kokom covertly watched her from under her hood. "It's rather obvious. And I've dealt with your affairs for years now, but I've hardly ever spent any time with any of you."

"Our affairs?" Now Narimoyak was confused.

"Oh yes." She nodded to herself. "Quite a bit sometimes." Dyuda, Narimoyak and Obi-Wan looked at each other then back at the woman in the pink suit.

"It seems so odd for me to say this, but. . . . I'm your lawyer."

- - end Part 1 - -