Legacy

Book I

Chapter 1

"No, no, no, no, no," Senior Healer Ben To Li chuffed, pouring a fresh cup of tea for his guest. "The spacers' legion at the time was not an astro-political entity at all. You must understand its origins as a planetary tribal collective, a sort of ethnological holdover. After the Seventh Vizier wiped out the city-states on the moons, the surviving chieftains banded together to form a rough defensive alliance. It had no legal sanction whatsoever."

"I don't dispute that, Master. What I am suggesting is that the Legion might be better understood as a mercenary guild than a clan; if you look at the contractual arrangements they formed with outlying systems, you must admit they bear all the distinguishing characteristics of a mercantile trading organization."

"Piracy?" the silver-haired healer snorted. "You have a broad definition of trade, my young friend."

"Nonetheless, " Obi-Wan continued, offering a gracious – and ingratiating- smile, "The treaty dynamics do corroborate my point of view."

"Pshaw," Ben To replied, waving a tendon-knotted hand at his eager companion. "Always the negotiator's perspective. You, Kenobi, should have been a barrister. Then you might have been handsomely remunerated for running your tongue in such sophistical circles."

"So you admit I'm right." The young Knight concealed his triumphant smile behind his tea bowl, taking a long and measured draught of Ben To's excellent brew.

His fellow history enthusiast threw up his hands in mock capitulation. "In the interest of sparing my afternoon the tedium of further debate, I'll permit you to walk away serenely mired in your error, yes." He collected the empty cups and saucers, tidying them away in a corner nook. "I'll correct your lamentably skewed perspective next time."

Obi-Wan stood, cloak falling in elegant drapes about his shoulders. "I look forward to it, Master."

Ben To twirled his pointed beard between thumb and forefinger, hustling his visitor into the hushed corridor outside. "Now, as delectably entertaining as this has been, I must return to duty – and haven't you anything better to do with your leave than pay social calls on an old curmudgeon?"

"I cannot think of a more rewarding use of my time," the younger Jedi demurely replied, the Force dancing with a sprightly fire that belied his respectful half-bow. "After all, Master Seva says to remedy ignorance is a greater victory than any won with the blade."

"Oh, I see," the healer grumbled, pale robes flapping at his heels as he proceeded down the hall with purposeful stride. "Well, I'm not issuing any merit badges today." They reached the intersection, and the exit. Ben To paused, arms akimbo. "And the answer to your unspoken question – and your real purpose in coming here – is not yet. I expect her back within the next tenday – the Alderaanian university system insists on following the traditional indigenous planetary calendar – bunch of stuffy academics with no common sense."

Obi-Wan grinned. "I can't wait to see her again. It's been more than two years."

"Yes... you've grown a half-centimeter and suffered the premature loss of your braid. I wonder if dear Bant will recognize you," Ben To huffed, amiably derogatory. "Now shoo – I've more important things to do than listen to your absurd twaddle about the Teth conflicts."

"Of course, Master Li." Another bow, this one infused with genuine warmth.

The aging Jedi suppressed his pleased smile and waved a dismissive hand before retreating back into the medical ward, a distinct spring in his step.

"By the Force, Obi-Nobi! You son of a gundark…! Don't you have better things to do than thrash an old man?"

Jedi Knight Feld Spruu's resonant voice echoed sonorously off the polished tile interior of the shower rooms in the upper level Temple dojo. He stripped off his sweat-soaked tunic and chucked it casually into the laundry chute, gesturing eloquently at the burning welt across his ribs, the blue skin blistered and puckered where a saber's edge had grazed too close for comfort.

His sparring partner was not in a contrite frame of mind. "You insisted on half-power. You have reaped the benefits of hubris, and must therefore embrace the lesson."

"You pompous barve," the tall Twi'Lek laughingly retorted, sending the remainder of his garments sailing into the chute behind his soiled tunic. "I hope Master Jinn scorches your knickers next time you match up."

The water in the adjacent stall stuttered on full blast, spattering merrily on the smooth floor. "Ahhhh… Force, that's good," Obi-Wan moaned.

His companion splayed one blue hand on the wall and tweaked the supply pipes' pressure with the aforementioned Force, transforming deliciously hot into freezing cold.

"….Blast it!" came the very satisfying yelp of consternation from next door.

"Sonics are less wasteful. And safer, my friend." Feld chuckled richly and set about lathering his own lean, muscular frame with cleansing liquid. It had been a hard-fought contest, one lasting far longer than the expected hour. "Embrace the lesson...you have just reaped the benefits of being a cocky scalawag," he called to his neighbor, over the noise of the water jets.

"Cartu ne'mei yu-da so," Obi-Wan smugly shot back, in Twi'Lek.

The elder of the two young Knights choked on the impertinent bilingual pun on cocky and brandished his plastiform bottle in one hand. "Don't make me come wash your mouth out, Kenobi."

"Save it for your future padawan, Spruu."

The pair sauntered into the main aisle, dripping shamelessly all over the traction-padded floor, and headed for the drying jets on the opposite wall. "Do not say the word padawan in front of me," Feld groaned. "I've heard enough about that lately."

His friend grinned. "You are an old man, Feld, if the Council is pressuring you to take on a learner."

The Twi"lek threw up his hands, and switched on the blasting air current. One minute beneath its steady stream of heated air, and their skin was nicely dried. Obi-Wan ran both hands though his mass of damp hair, smoothing it back.

"I've been mandated to attend the next exhibition tournament," Feld ruefully confessed. ".. to find a suitable candidate." He made a comically appalled face. "A wee youngling!"

"He has my pity," Obi-Wan quipped. They rummaged in their lockers for clean clothing.

Feld shook his head, thick lekku bobbing over his broad shoulders, which were dappled with dark indigo freckles. "You know, I was going to volunteer to finish your training – before Master Jinn returned from the netherworld of the Force or wherever he was, and you pulled a typical Obi-Nobi dirty trick and skipped the Trials."

"I didn't skip," his friend gravely assured him, deftly flipping his tabards right way round and wrapping his sash with practiced movements. "And besides, I'm too much for you to handle… as we have just demonstrated beyond all doubt."

The Twi'Lek snorted at him, and then paused, arrested by a new thought. "What if I chose a girl one, though, eh? Maybe less trouble?"

"I don't think so, my friend." Obi-Wan allowed his thoughts to stray momentarily to Siri Tachi, a bold counterexample to Feld's thesis if ever there was one. He lingered upon the image for a heartbeat longer than needful before wresting his mind away again by an iron act of will.

"Well then," Feld replied mournfully, clipping his 'saber at his belt, "I am finished. Here stands before you a dead man."

"There is no death; there is only the Force."

"Ha! If only there was no padawan, either." They strode out the exit side by side, heading down the adjacent concourse. Sunlight spilled upon the Temple's inlaid floors, slid caressingly over the deep folds of their cloaks. "Let's discuss something more cheerful – tell me about the mission to Chandrila."

Obi-Wan shook his head and held up a hand. "If I'm to provide a recitation of that woeful tale, I will require sustenance first. I'm famished."

They turned their steps toward the east wing refectory, by unspoken mutual consent.

"If I didn't know better, I would think it was a tasteless joke on the part of the Council."

Feld Spruu waved his utensil at his dining partner. "Between you and me," he said, conspiratorially, "I don't think old Master Yoda is above a tasteless joke."

Obi-Wan mulled this proposition over. "Possibly - but I had the feeling this was Master Windu's idea." He shrugged. "I don't know... perhaps it was a jab directed at Qui-Gon? The two of them have a long and chequered history of disagreement."

The Twi'Lek Knight grinned. "So goes the legend."

"Yes," his friend replied tightly. He fell silent as a group of smaller initiates was led past in the wake of their patient chaperone. More than one pair of wide, wonder-filled eyes rested upon him with awed recognition before being shepherded down the aisle and away.

Feld's lekku twitched with humor. "They would line up and fight to be your padawan, 'Nobi. Master Jinn is not the only one with notoriety attached to his name."

His companion sighed. "Apparently not." He glanced over one shoulder at the retreating lone of hero-worshipers, acutely tempted to raise his cowl and disappear behind adamantine mental shields… but there was little point in such futile and melodramatic gestures. He was already branded with a reputation.

"And let me guess," the Twi'Lek Jedi continued, indefatigable. "The delegates at the Chandrilan Unity Convention were also lined up and willing to fight… you and Master Jinn had your hands full."

"So to speak," his friend answered, darkly. "I still don't see why the Order would not send female emissaries to such an event - culturally, historically, the conclave is open only to matriarchs and dedicated priestesses of the Oracle."

"Widows and virgins?" Feld smothered a guffaw. "Maybe the High Council is wise beyond mortal reckoning. Was it a dramatic escape? Did you both survive unscathed?"

Obi-Wan polished off the few remaining scraps on his plate. "Well." A small moue of resignation. "We did enjoy remarkable hospitality. And they were most grateful for the Republic's symbolic presence. They signed a five year plan of concord."

"Victory all around," Feld smirked. "Peace in the sector, successful ambassadorial mission for you, peerless entertainment for the ladies."

The younger Jedi narrowed his eyes at the ribald implications of this statement. "Don't you have something better to do with your time?" he drawled, arching one brow. "Like seeking out a future apprentice? Look there…that little Rodian fellow is drooling. He seems like a fit recipient for your wisdom."

But Feld was not to be so easily discouraged. "Just like those Chandrilan priestesses were fit recipients for yours, eh, Obi-Nobi?"

The jest evoked a vibrant flush in his companion's cheeks. "Thank you for your company, Master Spruu. If you will excuse me…I'm going to go elevate my mind with study and meditation."

The Twi'Lek stood, unrepentantly flashing his brilliant white smile. "Take care, my friend. I look forward to redeeming my honor, at your convenience."

"Delusion ill becomes you, Master Spruu- but I shall condescend to indulge your whim upon the first possible occasion."

A helpful droid hovered near, clearing the dishes and debris. They sallied forth to the summit of a wide stairway flanked by smooth pillars.

"I hope that may be soon… how much longer is your respite?"

Obi-Wan spread his hands. "Days or hours… Qui-Gon and I are officially available for assignment. And Master Yoda says he does not like to keep us underfoot at the Temple."

Feld clapped him on the shoulder. "Tell me when you depart next – I'll stow away. Anything to avoid that younglings' tournament, eh?"

"I won't be accomplice to your irresponsibility," the younger man retorted. "May the Force be with you, Feld."

"My regards to Master Jinn."

They bowed to one another, and parted ways in amiably high spirits, each to the solitude of his own pursuits.