Archive: Exclusive to author's personal site and SWAL (until April 15,
2000), then MA. Others, please ask.
Archive Date: March 23, 2000
Author's Webpage: www.squidge.org/~iroshi/meercat.htm
Category: Humor
Disclaimer: They belong to Sir George of Lucas, lord of the Sacred
Realm of Star Wars and all the awards, titles, lands, and words pertaining
thereto. Just think of me as Robin Hood, borrowing from the rich to give
to the poor, huddled, ficstarving fanfic masses...okay, I wouldn't buy
that, either, if I were you...no harm done (much, anyway, and what I
broke, I fixed). No money no foul, okay?
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: G
Summary: This story (and Obi-Wan) begs a question.
One...two...three -
"Master, you can't be serious!"
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn smiled, quite pleased; he'd expected to reach the count of five. Obi-Wan's control over his emotions while startled was improving. He must remember to congratulate him later.
Qui-Gon graced his Padawan learner with a serene smile and replied, "But I most certainly am, Obi-Wan. Very serious. On this mission, we serve as Ambassadors for both the Jedi Council and the Republican Senate. We must at all times abide by the customs and dictates of the planet in question."
Obi-Wan stared at the datapad clenched between his hands. "But...this says...the orders state that...this law...we can't even...Master, I cannot walk around in public...NAKED!"
I will not laugh. I will not laugh. I will not laugh. "I don't believe I have ever heard you 'sputter,' Padawan. It isn't very becoming. And as for appearing in public naked: Why not? Have you some deformity of which I'm not aware?" Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, distrustful. "You haven't followed the example of Master Togg's Padawan and tattooed your...well, tattooed yourself?"
Obi-Wan blushed such a deep red, it almost set his short, sandy hair aflame. He closed his legs in instinctive protection. "No, Master! I would NEVER do that...if for no other reason than it would hurt!"
Qui-Gon sighed with relief. "Force bless. Where the boy's common sense flew to when he decided to mark himself thus, Force alone knows."
"Back to this, Master." Obi-Wan waved the datapad in the air. His thumb struck several buttons simultaneously; the pad chirped until a nervous fumble silenced the noise. "I understand the need to...but...can we wear NOTHING in the way of...modest protection?"
"Nothing save a few select items of jewelry, a list of which should be appended to that report," Qui-Gon said.
"You might have told me about this before we left Coruscant."
"And spoil the surprise? Or worse still, left you to worry about it for the entire three-day journey?" His voice took on a familiar teaching sing-song. "Obi-Wan, as Jedi we are all called upon to perform tasks that at times seem, or feel to be, embarrassing. All things considered, your first experience will be a benign one. Which is much better than I received. My first truly humiliating mission left me painted from crown to toe in mud and crawling on the ground so as not to tower over the Senator of Ke-Mari. The Mari take grave insult when someone stands taller than they during negotiations. Master Yoda had no such problem, as I recall."
He cast a sideways glance at his young companion. "Obi-Wan, you aren't by chance laughing at me, are you?"
"Me, Master? No, Master. Never, Master." shchnk
"Good. Now then. Representative Coomis will be greeting us upon landing. I suggest that we...attire ourselves appropriately."
Obi-Wan offered a last, resigned sigh and mumbled, "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon removed his cloak, reduced it to neat, even folds, and laid it on the foot of his bed. His belt and sash soon followed.
"Master?"
Ahhhhh, Qui-Gon thought. Here it comes. "Yeeees, Obi-Wan."
"I have but one last question, Master." His tunic halfway over his head, Qui-Gon paused and faced his companion, not trusting the silky smooth delivery of his Padawan's words. "If we're not allowed to wear any item of clothing, even so much as a simple belt...could you tell me, Master...where do we hang our light sabers?"