DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment purposes and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author. Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).
"Let me repeat myself, this is republic cruiser oh-oh-five-eight," intoned Devi Iklanda with a note of barely repressed frustration. "I am scheduled to pick up two passengers. Two Jedi Knights."
"There is designated landing for participants of the two day Gem Night Festival," intoned Kalla's Corporate Sector Authority docking administrator from the overhead communication screen. "I can give you the landing coordinates."
"I'm not here for the flippin' celebration! And you can shove your coordinates where Kalla's sun don't shine," Devi shouted into the commlink. "I'm here for the two Jedi knights. Jedi, 'J' as in jerkoff and Knight, "K" as in if I ever land this bucket I'm going to kick your puny ass!"
Devi rolled her eyes and glanced at her co-pilot, a Sullustan named Cheeba. "Flipping CSA landing administrators have space vacuum for brains," she muttered, then turned back to the commscreen. "Are you going to let me land to pick up my passengers or what?"
"I understand." The administrator pursed his lips. "You're here for the two Jedi Knights. Your passengers have been waiting for several standard hours."
"No kidding! You piles of bantha poodoo have been keeping me in orbit for those 2 standard flippin' hours."
The administrator sniffed. "Landing bay 94 has been made available. Transmitting coordinates now. You may land Republic Cruiser oh-oh-five-eight."
The screen cleared and Devi punched the receive button and downloaded the coordinates to landing bay 94 and the red Republic Cruiser sped rapidly toward the planet below, Corporate Sector controlled Kalla. "Not only do I deal with CSA morons, I have to deal with Jedi." She crossed her arms, stared below at the planet and sulked.
Cheeba looked at his captain and raised his ridged brows. "I find them polite," he said in accented Basic. "They've never given us any problems."
"Oh, yeah, they're polite until they don't get their way and then they just wave their hand." Devi demonstrated what she called the Jedi hand flutter. "They're more flamin' trouble then they're worth. I work for Chancellor Valorum, not the flippin' Jedi council. Bunch of arrogant ass-kissing do-gooders."
Cheeba chuckled and she ignored him. He knew her well enough to know her irritation was due not so much the CSA authority, but their passengers. The republic cruiser broke into Kalla's atmosphere and Devi banked the ship toward the landing beacon.
"Begin landing protocol," she told Cheeba. He nodded and flipped the landing gear switches and cut the main engines.
Devi expertly settled the ship down between blinking landing lights on the designated platform. She looked out the bridge's viewport on her left and spied the two Jedi waiting for their transport. She continued to stare while absently fumbling for the switch to lower the landing ramp. Whoa, she thought. Those two certainly sent the gorgeous scale out into orbit. The master, the tall one with broad shoulders and a leonine face, sported long hair and a beard. The younger one, a Padawan she guessed by his haircut, was a shorter and had a stockier build. His face was smooth and handsome with a cleft chin and a high forehead. He was probably just a few years younger than her own twenty-five years. However, it was the hunky master that made her exhale a shaky breath.
These two were almost enough to make her change her mind about Jedi. Almost…
"Planetside to Devi!" Cheeba shouted in her ears. She jumped and glared at him. "I already lowered the boarding ramp," he continued. "I don't know where you were, but you weren't here." He chuckled and followed her
gaze to the two waiting men. "What were you just saying about the Jedi?" "Oh, just shut up," she groused and rose from the captain's chair. The last thing she needed was a couple of handsome Jedi on board. Look what it got her mother. Nothing but heartbreak and an early grave. That was enough to make her swear off any Jedi, no matter how handsome.
Qui-Gon stared at the pilot who strode down the ramp and began snapping at the CSA docking crew. She was tall and solid, and her tight flight jumpsuit followed the lines of her muscular figure, flaring hips and long legs. The flightsuit zipper in front, pulled partway down, allowed a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. Her long light brown hair cascaded in thick waves to her waist. A BlasTech DL-44 Heavy blaster pistol was tucked in a low-slung belt holster around her waist and secured to her left thigh. Qui-Gon had a feeling that she could use it.
"What!" she cried and gestured at the landing crew who were so busy staring at her that they reminded Qui-Gon of wide-eyed Calamarians although most of them were human. "You morons have space gnats for flippin' brains? I ask you to check the oxygen system and you stare at me like I'm spouting freakin' Huttese or something. And don't take all day about it. I want off his stinkin' crime infested, smog pit as soon as possible."
Shaking her head in disgust, she then turned and long-legged strides carried her quickly towards them, her hips unconsciously swaying. The woman planted her hands on her hips and gave them a cursory glance from head to feet. Her face wasn't classically beautiful, too strong boned for that, with a stubborn jaw and high cheekbones. Still there was something about her that attracted attntion, a stronge aura of confidence combined with an attitude of someone who was used to being obeyed. She had the look of a female who could take care of herself in any situation.
Her upper lip curled as if she didn't like what she saw. "You Jedi never seen a female pilot before?" she asked, and flipped back a long wavy lock of hair.
Not like this, Qui-Gon thought. She had eyes the color of the lakes on his home planet, but her frank and hostile glare was quite the opposite of the friendly soothing waters that he remembered. He exchanged a glance with his Padawan, and Obi-Wan's slight smiled told Qui-Gon that they were both thinking similar thoughts.
"No? Well, don't just stand there, read my thought and get your asses on board. We don't have all day. We're late as it is because of these brainless CSA procedures."
She stalked away, her long hair floating behind. She neatly stepped to the side around a piece of machinery. A split moment later a right repulsor lift failed and the machinery crashed to the floor, and would have crushed her had it fallen on her. She seemed unshaken by the near accident.
"Is it going to take my foot up your ass to get you moving?" she shouted at a slack-jawed mechanic and then went to assist him.
"Master, close your mouth," Obi-Wan said wryly.
Qui-Gon was about to contradict his Padawan, but then realized he was staring with his mouth open. He snapped it shut and forced himself to take his gaze from her shapely butt as she bent over. She almost gave the entire mechanic team a coronary. One of her hapless victims slipped in a puddle of grease.
"I have a feeling this is going to be a very interesting trip home," the Jedi master finally said with a deep sigh and tucked his hands into his robes.
Obi-Wan chuckled as he walked along at his master's side and up the boarding ramp. "I think that is an understatement, master."
They turned at the top of the ramp as their pilot joined them.
"You're my only passengers so you can choose any berth," she said, matter-of-fact. "I run an informal ship, but that doesn't mean lax. The bridge is off limits; I don't like people staring over my shoulder. The service droid in the cafeteria will be on hand to serve you whenever you're hungry." She crossed her arms and stood in an unconsciously arrogant hip-shot stance. "Am I clear?"
"Very, captain--?" Qui-Gon let the question hang.
"You can call me Devi."
"I am Qui-Gon Jinn and this is Obi-Wan Kenobi, Captain." The two Jedi gave me a short, but formal bow.
"Well, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi, you can master and Padawan each other but I don't hang with the formality, so you can stop with the bowing and just call me Devi." She looked at the chrono on her slender wrist. "After liftoff, we'll be jumping into lightspeed almost immediately so I would appreciate it if you settle in quickly."
With that she turned and strode down the hall toward the bridge leaving the Jedi to once again stare after her in shock.
"I don't think she likes us," Obi-Wan said.
"Correction, Obi-Wan. I don't think she likes Jedi," Qui-Gon corrected, his narrow gaze following her slender form. He had the strangest feeling that he knew her. He knew he didn't, he would remember her if he'd ever seen her, but she looked familiar. Along with that sense of familiarity, he felt a stirring of attraction. Now that was a distraction he didn't need.
Devi threw herself into the captains' chair and began the engine startup sequence. Damn, that Jedi master was scrumptious. She looked over at Cheeba and found him staring at her.
"What's your buggering problem?" she grumbled.
"You're funny," he said with a smile.
"I'm glad I you find this amusing," she ground out. "Now let's get this bucket out of here. The sooner we get back to Coruscant, and drop off these deadweights the better."
In the bowels of the ship she could hear the whine of servos as the boarding ramp lifted into its housing. She flipped a switch over her head and the commscreen cleared and the CSA landing administrator's face appeared.
"This is republic cruiser oh-oh-five-eight," she said. "I need a takeoff clearance code."
"Transmitting clearance code now."
Devi and Cheeba piloted the cruiser out of the docking bay and followed a designated atmospheric course through the smog-infested clouds and above the planet. Devi held little respect for the CSA, they would exploit anything and anyone to make a credit. She'd heard about the ryll spice debates between the CSA and the Twi'leks and she suppose that was why the Jedi were on Kalla.
Piloting the cruiser was second nature and she did it by muscle memory, her thoughts straying once again to the Jedi. She avoided contact with all Jedi, but wondered if she should make an exception in his case. Then she thought of her mother, and the image of her mother's grief stricken face was all it took for her to firmly put aside the image of the Jedi master. No way. That would never be her.
After breaking out of Kalla's atmosphere and away from planetary traffic, Devi hit Coruscant's coordinates into the navicomputer and set the cruiser safely into lightspeed. She rose from her chair and stretched.
"I'm going to catch a few winks. I don't remember the last time I slept."
Cheeba nodded and settled back in his chair, keeping an eye on the numerous displays and glowing readout screens. "No problem. Sweet dreams, captain," he said and glanced at her and his brow ridges gave a twitch.
"You're lucky you're a damn good pilot," she grumbled. Cheeba just laughed, accustomed to his captain's prickly nature.
Angrier with herself than at Cheeba, she stomped down the corridor toward her berth and ran right into the hard, tall form of the very man she was thinking of.
His hands came up and grasped her forearms to steady her. She looked up into his kind blue eyes, a hint of amusement sparkling in them. She jerked away from him.
"I'm okay," she said more abruptly then she intended. "What are you doing skulking around the corridors?" Her barbed attitude seemed to amuse him.
"I was actually looking for the cafeteria," he said, his voice was deep and soothing. "I seem to be lost."
Suddenly self-conscious, Devi tucked a long lock of hair behind her ear and stared at the floor. "Chancellor Valorum changed the inside specification when this cruiser was built for him. It's not standard, so that's why you've lost your way." She gave him directions to the cafeteria. He nodded, but didn't leave. "Is there anything else you wanted?" she asked, staring at the middle of his chest, refusing to look into his eyes, but found her mind wandering to what that chest would look like without the tunic covering it.
"I have a feeling that I should know you," he replied. Unexpectedly, he slid a large finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. He studied her face for a moment before she jerked away.
Devi wasn't expecting that and her stomach clenched. Heavens help her if he recognized her. "I don't think that is possible," she snapped and stepped away from him. "I have no dealings with the Jedi." Without another word she pushed past him and forced herself to walk to her berth. Once there she rushed inside and leaned against the door, closed her eyes and panted.
So he must have known her father! Her mother said she looked a lot like him, Dhavel, got her height and hair from him, and she inherited something else, but they never spoke of it.
Still fully clothed, Devi threw herself on her bunk and stared up at the ceiling. She barely remembered her father; his face was only a shadowed memory. That wasn't surprising, he hadn't been around much always off on a mission for the Jedi council. Her mother wouldn't let the Jedi council have her only baby, her daughter. She said that when they asked for a midi-chlorian count, she substituted her own blood.
"Damn them!" she shouted into the silence of the room, then rolled over, punched her pillow, determined to get some sleep.
It didn't work. She kept thinking about how, as a little girl, she would cling to her father's robes, her tears soaking the brown material, and she would beg him not to leave her. He would hold her small shaking body and whisper in her ear and pet her long hair. Devi could still remember his warm strength. But he would always leave, no matter how hard she begged him not to.
Then one afternoon two Jedi temple officials showed up at their modest house on Corellia and they gave them the word that Dhavel had died. Maybe if she had become a Jedi she could have helped her father, saved his life. Or maybe if she had become a Jedi she would have seen him more.
It was mother's fault. She wouldn't let the Jedi take her only offspring, her only daughter. It was her father's fault for leaving them alone so often. If he had of stayed home, none of this would have happened. The news of Dhavel's death had been the final. Within two standard months her mother died.
Both her mother and father were gone and it was the fault of the Jedi. Devi tossed and turned. And after an hour she sat up. She couldn't get Qui-Gon Jinn out of her head. He seemed so kind and sincere. He is almost old enough to be my father, she told herself. She grasped her head tightly between her hands and clenched her eyes shut. Why did it have to be a Jedi she was lusting over?
It was useless. She kept thinking about his face, his eyes, his lips and those gorgeous big shoulders. And what was worse, she knew he liked her, too. She sensed it. He didn't want to like her anymore then she wanted to like him, but the attraction was there.
"It's not like I want a long term relationship," she told herself. "Just a bit of fun. It's been a long time since I've found an intriguing man."
She stood up and took a deep breath. She'd give him one of her killer backrubs and see what happened from there.
Devi found Qui-Gon Jinn reading on a couch in the corner of the passenger lounge. He looked up as she approached and gave her a smile that caused her heart to flutter.
"Pleasure or work?" she asked, indicating his book.
"Jedi business is never work," he said. She saw his gaze fall to her chest, and he shifted uncomfortably before looking back down to his book. So the Jedi master wasn't as immuned to her as he'd like to think. The bigger they come the harder they fall, she told herself.
Devi sat next to Qui-Gon. The attraction was near palpable. She reached out and gently touched his shoulder.
"You have the look of a man who could benefit from a relaxing backrub."
"What man wouldn't?" he replied. He sat his book down and turned to her.
She ran her hands over his gorgeous broad shoulders and he flinched slightly at her touch. She leaned against him and allowed her breasts to brush him just a little, not too obvious. "I don't bite, at least not hard." He looked at her and she winked, then shrugged. "Look, I used to give my mother massages. I think you need one and it's my way of apologizing for my earlier behavior."
"Then I accept your apology," the Jedi master said.
Devi crawled behind him on the couch, and he moved forward to accommodate her. She straddled him, her legs on either side and began to work her magic, allowing it to flow through her fingers and deep into the fiber of his muscles as she massage, kneading the skin, and glorifying in the feel of his hard, strong shoulders and back. She closed her eyes, picturing an aura of yellow light around her hands and everywhere that she touched, she healed. Qui-Gon relaxed under her gentle touch. His head fell forward, his breathing slowed, steady inhales and exhales. And soon she realized that she had put the Jedi master to sleep.
Smiling faintly she leaned against his back, reached around and feathered her fingers down across his forehead, down his temples and cheeks, allowing her magic to sooth him and wash away all the worries that built up as toxins in his body.
Sighing Devi sat up and managed to pull away from him without waking him, then propped a few pillows under his head.
"So much for your seduction technique," she told herself and stared at his sleeping form for a moment. Poor guy probably needed it, so even if she didn't get what she was looking for, he was happily snoozing away in La La Land. She turned and headed out of the cafeteria.
...and almost bumped into Obi-Wan. He stared over her shoulder before the door slid closed and spied Qui-Gon resting quietly on the couch.
"What'd you do to my master?" he asked suspiciously.
"Do? I gave the poor guy a much-needed back massage. He passed out cold within ten minutes." She threw a companionable arm around the Padawan's shoulders and led him away from the lounge. "Why don't you come have a drink with me?"
He hesitated. She had been curt earlier, so she understood his hesitation. This boy looked like he could do with some companionship, he probably spent most of his time talking to his master.
"Relax," she said with a smile, and patted his chest, "you're totally adorable but I prefer maturity and experience over youth and exuberance."
Obi-Wan chuckled and she felt the tenseness flow out of his body. "Well then, now that I know I'm safe, I take you up on that drink."
"Safe?" she repeated with a teasing tilt of an eyebrow. "Never." He laughed and they walked to the deserted diplomat's lounge.
"Isn't this suppose to be off limits?" he asked?
"You forget, this is my ship, plus Valorum keeps the alcohol cabinet here well stocked."
Obi-Wan took a seat while Devi crossed to the bar and extracted two shot drinks and a bottle of reddish colored liquid. She held it up for his perusal.
"I've got some great Bakura Zest," she said with a wiggle of her brows, and joined him at the table, hooking a chair leg with her boot and pulling it up. She popped open the bottle and poured them both a full glass. "Down the hatch," she said and tossed back the drink, grimacing as it burned all the way down and settled warmly in her stomach. Her eyes watered. "The first drink is always the best," she said in hoarse croak.
"I believe you," the young apprentice laughed. He stared at his glass. "Because I've never had this particular drink."
Devi had a feeling that he'd never had much of anything alcoholic, but she didn't say anything. Who was she to challenge the fragile male ego, even if it was a Jedi male ego?
"It's just a drink, Obi-Wan," she said and poured herself another glass. "Nectar of the Universe, it is. You know, I usually save it for special occasions."
"Is this a special occasion?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Depends," she replied, thinking of Qui-Gon.
"Well then, down the hatch," he said, picked up the glass and without further preamble, gulped down the entire contents. He slammed the glass to the table, coughed and choked, thumping a fist to his chest.
"You're right, that is good," he finally said in a strangled voice.
Devi laughed. "You're alright kid." She poured him another glass, then held up her own. "A toast," she said.
"To what?"
"Doesn't matter, just a toast to life."
"I'll drink to that," Obi-Wan replied, and this time he didn't hesitate as he gulped down the drink and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his tunic and pounded his fist on the table. "I think the second one is better."
"By the fifth drink, kid, you won't even feel the burn," she teased and poured them both another. She was used to drinking, but it soon grew obvious that the kid was not. It didn't take them long to empty the first bottle and the second was already halfway gone
"'dish iz greeaat thtuff," Obi-Wan slurred, and stared cross-eyed at the glass of inviting red liquid on the table in front of them.. "What did you thay it wath?"
"Bakura Zest," Devi replied with a smile. "Taste like a Alderaan nectar flower and has a kick like an angry nerf. Great shit, eh kid?"
"Yeah, greath thhit."
"So what's it like being a Jedi," she asked, feeling relaxed enough that she could listen without that familiar clench in her stomach.
"S'all I know," he said and hiccuped. "Never really knew my muther n' father. My bruther Owen is kinda a dickhead. We don't thee eye to eye."
Devi hid a smile behind her back of her hand. "That isn't a very Jedi-like thing to say about your brother."
"S'truth," he said, and held up his empty glass. "Say, I think I wanth sthome more…" at that the Padawan head bobbed, his eyes closed and he promptly passed out, his head thunked to the table and he began to snore softly.
"Well, that's two for two," Devi told herself, leaned back in the chair and propped her booted feet on the table. She held up her full class to the light and studied the clear red contents. "Girl, you have a knack for putting men to sleep."
Well, maybe not.
Devi took a sip of the Zest then cocked her head. She knew the Jedi master approached the room even before she heard his footsteps, even before he opened the door.
The large man entered the room and looked around. spying her and Obi-Wan he strode to the table and was quiet for a moment while he in turned looked at Devi with the half-full glass of Zest in her hand and at Obi-Wan laying on the table and snoring softly. A string of drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth and pooled on the tabletop.
"My Padawan is inebriated," he stated, his voice flat.
"Oh listen to you," Devi said. The alcohol had loosened her tongue. Her feet thudded to the floor and she put down her glass, sat up and puffed out her chest. "My Padawan is inebriated," she mimicked, then sat back, picked up her glass and gestured toward Obi-Wan. "The kid's a lush. He's stinkin' drunk." She reached over and pushed Obi-Wan gently on the shoulder. He listed to one side then, in what seemed like slow motion, he slid off the chair and thunked to the floor under the table. He snorted loudly several time before his snoring resumed. "Other than waking up feeling that he has asteroids colliding in his head, he'll be okay."
"You don't understand. This is inappropriate behavior." The Jedi master pursed his lips. Devi had to pinch herself to keep from laughing. This man was gorgeous, but he was horribly straight.
"Give it a rest," she countered and drained her glass and returned it to the table then belched loudly. "You Jedi masters are wound way too tight. I'm certain that moments of levity actually cause you pain. Let the kid have some fun and enjoy himself before he becomes one of you tight asses."
"Tight asses?" Qiu-Gon countered with a raised brow. He sat down opposite Devi. "The Jedi play an important role in the galaxy."
The Jedi master spoke softly and calmly, but Devi wasn't fooled, he was wearing his Jedi master cap and she didn't like being spoken to like a foolish child.
"Yeah, a self-important, pompous role. Take for example the Jedi code. There is no anger, there is peace. What's so bad with a little temper tantrum once in awhile? Hmm? It clears the mind. Oh, and get this, it's my favorite: There is no passion, there is serenity." She made an airy gesture. "Fuck that noise. How do you think you guys get Jedi for your temple, eh? You think the little buggers just pop out of black holes? It's passion, Master Qui-Gon, pure unfettered, glaze-eyed passion. Do the nasty. Bumping uglies. Hump. Ball. Screw."
"Are you finished?" the Jedi master asked, his expression tight, hand big hands flat on the tabletop. His Padawan snored peacefully away on the floor.
"Hell no I'm not! I haven't even begun, big guy. I want to know what's the deal with there is no death, there is the Force. That's the biggest stinking, steaming pile of crap that any one body of government has splooted out in a millenium." She laughed shortly and without humor. "I've been around this galaxy enough to tell you that when you're dead, you're fucking dead, and a blaster bolt through the head is as deadly to anyone, including Jedi."
"I think you have a lot of anger to understand and overcome."
"Up yours!" she stood up and glared at the Jedi. "It's okay to be angrey, or afraid, or to feel a little old fashion lust. I think you Jedi are a wad of frustrated, pent-up emotion and man, when one of you breaks, the galaxy will be fucked. Bad mojo everywhere. Pure and simple."
"It seems to me that you've been thinking about this for a very long time," the Jedi master said, his voice had gone very soft. "Who or what caused your pain?"
"It doesn't matter anymore." Now it was Devi's turn to feel uncomfortable.
"If you talk about it, and get it out in the open, it might help."
"No. It happened as a long time ago and I'm over it," she replied a little to casually. She tried not to think of her father, who thought his Jedi duties were more important then his wife and a little girl who wanted his attention more than anything in the universe.
"Give me your hand," Qui-Gon asked suddenly.
Devi stared at him suspiciously, but decided that giving him her hand wouldn't do any harm. She reached across the table and he gently took her hand in his large one. A chill of exquisite awareness shivered up her arm at his touch, and she held her breath until it passed. Luckily he didn't appear to have felt it. But then he turned her hand over and looked at her palm and ran a finger down it.
Devi sucked in a quick breath. "What, do Jedi read palms now?" she asked, her voice strangled sounding.
"No," he said and looked at her, stared at her face.
Devi struggled to remain passive and stared back at him, trying not to react, but there was something about his man. He pressed something cold against her finger, and that was followed by a sharp clicking noise. Pain radiated up her arm. She jerked her hand out of his grasp and stared at what had caused the discomfort. Blood beaded on her finger. She looked up and spied a blood sampler in his hand. He stood and drew a device from his belt and slipped the sampler into it.
"Hey!" she jumped up and grabbed for the device; it was a midi-chlorian sampler. He held it high above her head. She grasped his shoulder and used it as leverage to jump higher, trying to swipe the sampler from him. She was tall, but the Jedi master was taller and had no problem holding it away from her. She finally gave up, stepped away and cast him a glare. "That wasn't fair."
"No?" he asked, retreated two steps and looked at the midi-chlorian sampler and nodded, his expression satisfied. "Just as I thought. You have a good midi-chlorian count. You could have been a Jedi. I'm surprised the Council did not identify you when you were born."
"Who said they didn't?" Devi glared at him. "But I don't want to be a Jedi, always having someone telling you how to act, what to do and where to go." She waved that notion away. "Bah! That Jedi code of yours don't hold water out in the real world."
He moved towards her and she moved away. "What are you afraid of?" he asked.
"Afraid!" Devi echoed and wished he'd stop following. "I'm not afraid."
"Do you use your powers?" Qui-Gon asked.
"A little." She shrugged. "I have some healing powers, as you've seen. I go to a lot of rough places and sometimes a little suggestive nudge will diffuse a volatile situation."
"If you're not careful, your powers could be used for the darkside by those who might exploit them and you."
"Nerf crap." She took another step back as he took one more step towards her. "Would you stop that!"
"Stop what?" he whispered. He reached out and took a lock of her long wavy hair and held the shiny mass up to the light, then began to wind it around his finger, drawing her closer to him.
"Don't," she said, "stop." Then took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes as she came up against his hard chest. "Don't stop."
"I won't," he promised, bent his head and touched his lips to hers. His lips were warm, firm and hungry and she answered that hunger.
Devi threw her arms around his broad shoulder and leapt up, wrapping her legs around his midsection, her tongue danced with his, playing exquisite games of chase. Qui-Gon's muscular arms wrapped around her ass and held her tightly to him, pressing her against his hard erection. Her hands traveled up to his face, and she held his head between her hands and rained kissed over his face, nibbled on his ear and the tip of his nose, when running her tongue over his lips until he groaned.
Qui-Gon spun around and sat her on the table; her legs still wrapped around him, their lips never parting. He began to unzip her jump suit while she tore at his belt. Her fingers fumbling and finding the buckle and undoing it, letting the belt drop to the floor onto Obi-Wan's sleeping form. The Jedi had her jumpsuit unzipped to the waist and her breast fell free. He bent and licked the taunt pink nipples then held the full mass in his large hands.
"I shouldn't be doing this," he said, his voice rough. He nibbled on the side of her neck.
"I know," she agreed. "And I've sworn off Jedi." She ran her hands over the back of his head and freed his long hair from the ponytail, letting it cascade over her chest and shoulders and it tickled her skin.
She groaned as he pushed her jumpsuit off her shoulder, baring her to the waist and his lips and tongue followed the curve of her neck and shoulders while a busy thumb brushed over her nipple.
Suddenly they would wait no longer. Devi struggled out of her jumpsuit, kicking off her underwear while Qui-Gon struggled out of his Jedi pants and tunic. He shoved her naked form back onto the table. The drinking glass poked her in the ass, but she didn't care. The chair was in Qui-Gon's way and he shoved it to the side with a swift kick. Devi could feel the heat of his huge erection against her thighs. He reached down and feathered a thumb against the damp curls between her legs and she gasped at the sensation as he increased the pressure, his thumb moving over sensitive spots.
Devi gasped and shivered. She reached down and grasped his cock, pushing his hand aside and rubbing the tip of his cock against her and then guided him in. The table bucked and scraped on the floor, and it groaned under their weight.
Below them, Obi-Wan snored peacefully.
"Ahhh," Devi cried as Qui-Gon settled inside her, hot and throbbing, filling her completely. She ran her splayed hands over the impressive expanse of his furred chest. He leaned down, his hair across her shoulders and drew a nipple into her mouth while he pounded into her, his ass pumping rhythmically, his butt checks clenching with each stroke.
Obi-Wan snored happily and muttered in his sleep.
"What if he wakes up?" Qui-Gon groaned.
"He won't," Devi moaned.
Qui-Gon leaned over and kissed her, his tongue exploring deep in her mouth as his cock slipped in and out, their sweating bodies slapping together. They rolled off the table to the floor. Qui-Gon fell on his back and Devi found herself on top giving her first complete glimpse of his magnificent body. She straddled him and lowered herself onto him, feeling him sink deep inside her, and his moans echoed hers. She began to ride him slowly at first, rocking her hips back and forth, feeling each stroke deep within her, watching his hooded eyes glazed in passion and lust. Faster she began to move, propping her hands on his chest while his explored her sensitive breasts. He then slipped one finger between them and rubbed her swollen clitoris. A loud moan escaped her lips and she threw back her head at the incredible sensation.
Devi reached back with one hand and began caressing his balls, tight and hard with excitement. Qui-Gon clenched his eyes and groaned and bucked as she rode him, her fingernails tickling and tormenting.
Not a foot from them, Obi-Wan snored, a half smile on his face.
"Aaa!" Devi cried out, a thin shout of ecstasy while waves of delirious, delicious chills raced up her body and her inner muscles contracted on him over and over, drinking from him.
Qui-Gon grasped her hips and held her to him as he bucked upwards, his eyes closed and his body shaking.
Still coupled together, no longer able to sit upright, Devi collapsed on his chest, closed her eyes and snuggled into his neck. The storm subsided, leaving them both at peace and weak.
"After passion there is peace," she intoned softly, raised her head and looked into his face, relaxed and sated. His smile was gentle and his hands smoothed down her mussed hair. After a few quiet moments Qui-Gon broke the comfortable silence.
"Your father was Jedi master Dhavel," he said gentl. Devi nodded against him. She didn't have the energy to care that he had guessed.
"Yes," she replied, and ran an exploring hand down his flat stomach. This man was simply magnificent.
"Will you talke to me about it?" he asked.
Devi sighed and looked up at him, her fears and anger soothed by the gentle expression in his eyes, eyes that were a few moments ago glazed in lust.
"Yes, I will tell you but I think we should go." She nodded toward the snoring Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon grinned and brushed the brown hair from her face. "It would not do well for my reputation if my Padawan was to wakeup and find us."
"And I have an odd feeling that reputation is sterling."
Oddly he laughed at that, stood up and held out his hand helping her to her feet. "Not quite, not with the council anyway."
Devi and the Jedi master dressed, not bothering that things weren't tucked neatly or button correctly. They hurried down the hall toward her berth, stopping and exchanging passionate kisses as they went, groping and hugging, unable to keep their hands off each other.
When the door of her berth slid closed behind them, they ripped their clothes off and they tumbled to her bed.
"I think talk can wait," she gasped as he crawled on top of her, spread her legs apart with his knee and slid a long finger inside her.
"I agree," he whispered against her stomach, and kept moving lower, his tongue flicking and tasting her and Devi clenched the blankets in her hand and released herself to the pleasure.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Thank the light they were gone. He sat up quickly and banged his head on the table.
"Ouch," he mumbled and rubbed his head. It was pounding from too much Bakura Zest, but not even the pain drove the smile from his face.
"It's about damn time," he announced to the empty room. "Qui-Gon needed to get laid."
He rose to his feet and chuckled to himself all the way back to his berth. Of course, Qui-Gon's tryst was a safe secret with him. He wasn't about to tell anyone that his self-possessed Master was scrumping the stars out of Chancellor Valorum's chief pilot.
Later, Qui-Gon held Devi within the protective comfort of his arms and once again brought up the subject of her father. She knew he could feel her pain, and she knew that he could help her with it.
"I am surprised you weren't brought to the temple. All Jedi children are automatically tested and your midi-chlorian count is high enough. You would have made a good healer."
Devi closed her eyes and took a deep breath and snuggled closer against him, sifting her fingers through the hair on his chest. "I found out later that mother substituted her own blood for mine. Father was disappointed. He wanted me to be a Jedi."
"Do you understand why your mother did what she did?"
"Yes," she said, finally glad to speak of it. "I remember their constant arguments whenever he would come to see us. I thought that she drove him away, but she loved him and wanted him to stay. I was all she had during those months without him. He wanted us to live on Coruscant, but mother hated that place. Said she didn't want to raise me there."
"I was a Jedi Knight when he died, but I remember him," Qui-Gon said quietly. "It was a great blow to the council when we receive news of his death. He was a dedicated Jedi."
"That was the problem, he was a little too dedicated," she sighed. "He forgot about his responsibilities to his family. All that mattered was his Jedi duties."
"You can't blame all Jedi for your father and mother's mistakes," Qui-Gon said and stroked her back, his hand running down over the soft swell of her behind and ran his fingers in the indention of her spine, liking the feel of her shiver.
Devi smiled up at the Jedi master. He was right, still it was difficult to let go of her anger. Maybe there was something to the Jedi code and maybe she could work on her anger just a little. "Is that your wise council for the day, Master Qui-Gon Jinn?"
"For now," he repliedHe swatted her shapely rump, and what a rump that was. He stood and began to dress and Devi continued to lay naked on the bed, letting his eyes rove over her curves.
"I have something to show you," she said suddenly and stood up. He raised an eyebrow at that. "You do?"
"Not that," she slapped his rump playfully. She crossed to a bureau, opened a drawer and from the bottom she extracted a silvery cylindrical item and held it up.
"It's my father's lightsaber. The council gave it to mother when he died. When she died I took it and always bring it with me on my missions."
"Have you tried to use it?" Qui-Gon asked. His gazed strayed to her fingers.
"No. You know all my fingers are intact. And you can stop looking so worried. I've never even turned it on."
At the sound of a musical chime over the cruiser's comm system, she placed the lightsaber back into the drawer and began dressing.
"As your captain, I must inform you that we are coming out of hyperspace and I have to go to the bridge."
Qui-Gon Jinn crossed to her, wrapped his arms about her and leaned in for a kiss, his lips lingering on her soft mouth, touching her lips with his tongue as he absently caressing one breast, playing with the taunt nipple pushing against the material.
Devi was breathing hard when she pulled away. "If I don't go, Cheeba will come looking for me."
"I think Obi-Wan is looking for me," he replied. He gave her one last lingering kiss before she reluctantly turned and disappeared out the door.
Devi jumped into the captain's chair. Her co-pilot eyed her with a smile. "Cut to sublight engines," she said, her fingers running over the control console. She pushed forward on the engine control and the streaky line of stars fell to normal pinpoints. Below, like the jewel it was named after, Coruscant hung in space, its entire surface covered in lights.
"Inform the Jedi council that we're arrived," she said, then chanced a glance at Cheeba. "What're you looking at?"
"You look pleased with yourself. You look like a she-Rancor that swallowed a very juicy tidbit. It wouldn't have to do with the Jedi Master would it?"
Devi started to tell him to mind his own business when a smile spread across her face. "Yeah, it was the Jedi master. And you know, maybe not all Jedi are bad."
Cheeba's ridged brows rose at that. "You are actually going to admit you're wrong? Sound the horns and bang the gong!" "I said maybe…!" she began then stared at her copilot. "Did you say 'bang the gong"?" Devi started laughing, held her sides and slid off the captains chair onto the floor. "Oh I did at that alright!" she finally managed between gales of laugher and tears of merriment.
Cheeba just stared at her and shook his round head and thanked his lucky stars that he could land the Republic Cruiser without the help of its hysterical captain.