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. Shevann, Arcarian pirates, erebus, and the whole alternate universe concept this story takes place in belong to Sharon Nuttycombe. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment 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.
"He's probably in here." Benz said throwing open the barracks door. Cort reluctantly followed him in.
"All the tables will be taken." Cort protested.
"It will only take a second. Obi-Wan said he wanted to come." They arrived at his bunk.
Cort shook the boy's foot. "Hey, Kenobi. Live naked girls. Coming?" He said. Obi-Wan didn't even stir. Cort shrugged. "Not interested I guess."
Benz grabbed Obi-Wan by the collar and pulled his head off the pillow. "Hey, Obi-Wan." He said. When he still didn't respond, Benz felt a small stab of concern. Obi-Wan was careful, but Benz had revived him enough times in his clinic that he got worried on occasion. Erebus addicts didn't exactly have long life expectancies, maybe one or two years if they were lucky. Obi-Wan was fairly exceptional in that he'd been using it for four years and not only was he still alive, but functioning at all. Benz shook him gently by the collar until Obi-Wan stirred slightly.
"Hey, still with us?" Benz asked, shaking him a little harder. Obi-Wan finally looked up; raising his head like it was made of lead. His eyes were part way open, but only the whites showed and a thin string of drool ran from his lip.
"Oh, leave him. He's useless when he's like that." Cort said.
"I just need to see that he's alright." Benz said. He shook Obi-Wan by the collar again until he saw the edges of his blue eyes peaking from underneath heavy lids.
"I'm okay." Obi-Wan said slowly. And then with an even greater effort, "I just need … a minute. Okay?"
Relieved, Benz let go and Obi-Wan fell back on the pillow. "You're alright." He said, "You'll need more than a minute it looks like. Take your time. We'll be at the club."
Benz turned to go but Obi-Wan tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey, could you … write it." Obi-Wan asked.
Cort roared with laughter. "What do you think this is? A School?" He asked. Like most of Shevann's men, Cort found Obi-Wan, with his pockets full of scribbled notes amusing, but had little use for him otherwise.
Benz took the pad that Obi-Wan kept by his bunk and scribbled for a moment. He was a trained medic, but largely illiterate. He didn't need words to get his point across though. He ripped the page out, let Cort have a quick chuckle over it and stuffed it into one of Obi-Wan's hands.
"Let's go." Said Benz. And as they walked toward the beckoning lights of the Officer's Club, Benz wondered if he was the only person in the whole camp who fully understood the cost of keeping Shevann's pet Jedi around.
Obi-Wan entered the Officer's Club and could see that the festivities had been going on for hours. The music could be heard from as far as the barracks and when he opened the door the smell of smoke, sweat, and spirits was palpable. The promised female entertainment, a lithe twi'lek, writhed on the makeshift stage. She clearly was a professional or else she wouldn't have lasted as long as she had. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her dodging projectiles with a grace that came from years of performing for hostile bar crowds. The men seemed to be enjoying her and so for the time being she danced largely unhindered. Obi-Wan knew that she would end up like all the other women who had entertained there before, dead and violated in a bloody heap on the floor. But for now, she danced with the confidence of someone who thought she was going to get paid and walk away from it.
Benz waved from the back and Obi-Wan had to cross in front of the stage to reach his table. He stopped for a moment to gaze at the young woman. She didn't look much older than he was. Most men found the twi'lek, with their graceful tentacled heads irresistible, but Obi-Wan had been a drug addict since he was 13 years old and any lust that he might have had in him had died a long time ago. He should have found her attractive, but he just couldn't. Instead he caught her eye and smiled politely.
To his surprise, she caught him under the chin with a slender finger and pulled him towards her. Obi-Wan took a few obedient steps in her direction and as she placed her lips gently over his, closed his eyes. It was like falling through space. He didn't know how long she kissed him there on the stage. He wasn't even aware that he had slowly sunk to his knees and was completely supported by her arms around his shoulders. Time was meaningless to him. For what could have been an eternity or a fraction of a second, he was transported. He couldn't hear the jeers of the men or feel the things they threw at him. He wanted to stay that way forever.
And so the return to reality was harsh and abrupt. She pulled her lips away and with it came a rush of sounds, catcalls and glass breaking and then the back of his head hitting the stage as she let go of him. He opened his eyes and she helped him to his feet. She winked as Obi-Wan stepped off the stage. He smiled back at her shyly, trying not to imagine her fate in his mind.
He pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the table where Benz sat with a few of his pals. He recognized most of their faces, but knew no names. One of them pushed out a chair and Obi-Wan sat down.
"Oh, to be young again." Benz said wistfully. Obi-Wan grinned broadly.
"You just have to know when to show up." He said. One of the men pushed a full glass of ale into his hand.
"Got my note then?" Benz said. Obi-Wan pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket. On it was a crude drawing of a nude woman with enormous breasts.
"I was wondering who drew this. Didn't you study anatomy in medic training?" Obi-Wan said. Ignoring Benz's face, he tossed the note onto the table where it joined the growing collection of empty pitchers and cigarette butts. Then he held up the glass. "Let's toast." He said. And waited until glasses were raised. "To Ken Oglevy." Obi-Wan finished, wishing he could drive the man's name from his mind. He drained half the glass and set it down. Glasses clinked as the men exchanged looks of confusion. None of them knew who Ken Oglevy was, but a toast was a toast so they drank to him.
Obi-Wan sat for a while, half aware of the world around him, but not quite totally part of it. The music blended with the gossip and the catcalls for the dancer into near symphony that bordered on cacophony. Occasionally his eyes drifted back towards the twi'lek who had kissed him, but they didn't stay there for long. He still felt warm from the erebus earlier and as he looked around the room at the raiders, all of whom would kill him without a second thought if he got in their way, he felt an odd sense of well being. Like everything was going to be all right after all. He lit one of the cigarettes Shevann had given him and smoked it slowly, oblivious to the activity around him other than as background noise. Every so often he noticed his glass had been filled even though he wasn't aware of drinking its contents. Maybe it wasn't so bad, he thought.
Obi-Wan glanced at Benz and then at the parac tables. "Feel like losing?" he asked.
Benz stood. "One day I'm going to start winning you know. Then what are you going to do?"
"Cheat, I guess." Obi-Wan said.
As far as the raiders could remember, Obi-Wan had only been defeated at parac once and that was while playing Shevann so no one could be sure whether he had thrown the game or not. He hadn't known how to play in the beginning, but he had excelled at mathematics at the temple and saw that relationships instantly. He quickly became unbeatable. Very few people would even play him any more, but Benz was always good for it, though the deal was always one quick lesson in the beginning.
"It's all in the math." Obi-Wan said. "If all the balls hit at the proper angles, you can control their trajectories."
"They're what?"
"Trajectories. The direction they travel." He demonstrated a few shots, always pointing out the exact spots on the edges where the balls would hit when they were struck. Benz tried it and missed every time.
"I don't know how you do it." Benz said. He didn't. He was sure that Obi-Wan wasn't cheating, but his foreknowledge of where the balls would go was amazing. It was like watching someone do magic.
"Its just math." Obi-Wan repeated. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"No. You cheat."
Obi-Wan turned around to glare at Drew. Drew had been Shevann's right hand man forever and was one of the few of the names that Obi-Wan could remember. He hated Drew. He was the worst kind of flunky, spineless and stupid.
"Why would I cheat, when I know how to win without cheating?" Obi-Wan asked him taking a few steps forward.
Drew stood up a little straighter and placed his hands on his hips. A few of his friends fell in behind him. "You use the force. That's how you do it." Drew said.
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "Once again, why would I bother when I can win without it?" He turned away in annoyance and Drew grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him back around.
"At least Shevann doesn't pump me full of drugs just to keep me around." Drew said.
Drew was up against the wall with Obi-Wan's blaster tucked under his chin before anyone could move to split them apart. The floor cleared around them and the room was suddenly silent. It was easy to forget how fast Obi-Wan could move; most of the time he seemed somewhat slow and confused. It was part of why he was such a pariah, a form of respect mixed with utter mistrust.
"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Obi-Wan asked him. "Because I don't understand how that's not a compliment. Do you think I would stay here if I could leave?"
Drew said nothing. This clearly wasn't the way he had intended things to go. He fidgeted, swallowing against the muzzle of the pistol pressed to his throat. Obi-Wan stared into Drew's eyes unmoving, enjoying the man's fear. It was like a spell, much like the kiss of the dancer earlier only different. That had been lovely, but as he watched the emotions cross Drew's eyes, he was filled with a strange dark energy that a part of him welcomed while another piece of him fought it.
Obi-Wan felt the hands of the bouncers on his shoulders and he released Drew and backed away calmly. "I'm okay." He said. "I'm sorry." One of them shook his head.
"You know the rules." He said.
Obi-Wan nodded and holstered his pistol. He knew the rules. Past fights in the Officer's Club had lead to such a reduction in Shevann's force that he had set a few ultimatums. One fight was passable, but a second meant ejection of all fighting parties until things had calmed down. A drawn weapon meant the weapon was confiscated for the evening and its owner barred from entry for the rest of the night as well. Obi-Wan handed over his sidearm in its holster and allowed himself to be steered back through the crowd. He glanced over his shoulder at the girl, but she didn't look in his direction.