Alpha & Omega:
II. The Hunted
Angyl
8/8/99
Disclaimer: These two handsome men belong to George
Lucas, the events surrounding them are mine. *g*
I've tried everything I can think of, but I have to face the inevitable
conclusion that we're going to have to make an emergency landing. The
shuttle is losing power quickly. The hyperdrive is badly damaged thanks to
the stray asteroid that hit us. We don't have enough power to make it to our
destination, let alone back to one of the more regularly traveled space
corridors. I've run out of options.
I hold back a sigh as I turn to the imposing man sitting calmly next to
me. "Master, I'm afraid I can't repair the damage. We're going to have
to make an emergency landing."
I can hear the concern creep into my voice, just slightly. Not enough
that if I were with anyone other than Qui-Gon Jinn, they would be able to
hear it. But I am with my Master, and he knows me better than anyone. He
heard. Of that I am sure.
But Sithspawn, the last thing we need is to be forced down on a backwater
planet in the middle of the outer rim. The chances of anyone picking up the
distress beacon out here are slim to none. Oh, I'm not worried that we won't
be rescued. The Temple knew our basic flight plan; they knew when we left
and when we were to arrive at our destination. They also knew that the
shuttle was damaged, not destroyed - we were able to tell them that before
we ventured out of communications range. It wouldn't be too difficult to
extrapolate that we'd needed to set down and then plot our course.
The problem was that there were dozens if not hundreds of planets that we
could have set down on. To search them all would take months, if not years.
I'd like to be made a Knight before I reach my dotage, thank you very much.
That and there's something I'd like to tell Master Qui-Gon. Hells, I'd like
to show him, but I want to be a Knight and his equal before I do. After all
it wouldn't do for an apprentice to confess his undying lust and love for
his Master - and if the feelings aren't returned, I'd like a convenient
escape route, like going off on a solo mission, so I can die from
embarrassment in private.
I'm pulled from my reveries by a voice a smooth as Alderaanian whiskey.
My Master's voice.
"I understand, Padawan; it's only through your abilities that we
have managed to make it this far. Most of the planets in this sector are
habitable. Choose the closest one and land. Republic relays will pass on our
distress signal. We shall be picked up eventually."
I wish I could have his faith in our equipment and our imminent rescue,
but I do as he requests. The nav computer turns up a few likely planets
-they're probably crawling with smugglers and pirates. People we'd do well
to avoid. The best choice appears to be one that has been recently visited
by archeologists. I glance over at Master Qui-Gon and see his brow furrow in
that sexy way it does when he's trying to protect me. I hate it when he does
that but still... it's a nice feeling nonetheless.
He's probably assuming I don't realize the danger we might face. I'm
twenty-three, not three. I've been in combat, in war situations. I've been
held at blaster point, been interrogated and survived both Master Windu's
lightsaber lessons and the deadly staff of Master Yoda. I sigh inwardly and
consign myself to waiting another few years before I can show him just how
damn grown-up I can be. If he had any idea of the things I wanted him to do
to me, I wanted to do to him... This was definitely not the time to lose
myself in my rather active fantasies of Qui-Gon the lover. After all, Master
might pick up a stray thought ... or notice a more physical side effect.
Forcing myself back to the here and now, I turn to Master Qui-Gon.
"Here, Master, the planet of Eira. It is oxygen-rich and has a
temperate climate. Everything seems to indicate it will be compatible to all
humanoid needs. There has even been some contact made with indigenous tribes
by archeologists studying this sector's development. They seem to be
friendly, if a bit primitive."
Qui-Gon smiles softly as he examines my choice. Oh, I know he has faith
in me and my abilities. I know too that he thinks I'm almost ready to take
my Trials. He just has this protective streak in him that spans the galaxy.
Always picking up pathetic life forms, my Master. Force above, how I love
that - how I love him. I'd never confess to either though. After all, it's
so much fun to tease him about it. He get so serious and stern that I
sometimes have this overwhelming urge to tickle him till he cracks, so
instead I torment him about his strays. And thank the Force for his
protective streak, which has saved a certain foolhardy Padawan on more than
one occasion.
"Well done, Obi-Wan. Find a place to land near the most recently
contacted tribe. We will make contact with them only if necessary," he
murmurs calmly, patiently watching as I guide the shuttle to the relative
safety of the planet below.
I still can't believe the past month and that I'm the one living this
insane adventure. There were natives waiting for us when we landed. Force
sensitive natives who spoke Standard and who'd seen our arrival in a vision.
We were welcomed as long lost brothers and taken back to their village. We'd
been 'adopted' by the village. It's almost funny really. All of a sudden we
were the pathetic life forms being picked up and taken care of.
The Triethan have been very kind and generous to us. We've been given the
run of the village, treated as members of their extended family and given
accommodations of our own. I nearly swallowed my tongue when a few of the
young women, and some of the men, started propositioning me. Sex, it seems,
is a commonplace thing among the villagers. Generously shared and
pleasurably received. When I declined, one young woman asked if my mate were
the jealous type. I just stood there, gaping.
These people actually thought Qui-Gon and I were.... Mates! I must have
turned every shade of red imaginable as I stammered out a yes; I figured
what Qui-Gon didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and I'd be relieved of anymore
speculation. The young woman took no offense, batted her eyes coquettishly
and said that she could understand well why he would want to keep such a
prime example of manhood all to himself. It took me four hours of deep
meditation to recover my equilibrium, and by all that the Force holds sacred
I am never telling Master Qui-Gon about this incident. I would die of
mortification.
He looked at me oddly during dinner and asked what was wrong. Damn it
all, why does he have to know me so well?
"It's been a month, Master, and still no sign of rescue. Damn it to
the Sith, I'm going mad with waiting," I exclaimed, finding an
acceptable excuse for my agitation. Truth was, without Master Qui-Gon here I
probably would have gone crazy. His presence soothed and comforted me
as it always did.
"Perhaps we should begin training again, Padawan, as well as
assisting with the daily life of the village. This would give you something
to focus on as well as teach you a lesson in patience. One that you seem to
need. This planet is teeming with life, and it is the perfect place for you
to learn how to be mindful of the living Force." I groaned silently. He
always had a lesson to teach me. Always.
We settled into a routine of sorts. In the afternoons and evenings we
would help the villagers in any way we could. We learned much of their way
of life. A Jedi is always learning. After all the Code itself says that
knowledge is important. Mornings were devoted to training - hard. We always
had an audience when Master Qui-Gon and I practiced our katas and our
lightsaber drills in the clearing beside the village. This was probably the
reason why the tribal elders approached us. They seemed to be impressed with
our skills as warriors and needed our advice. It seemed the villagers were
being preyed upon by a 'demon'. It would attack indiscriminately, and what
was left of the victim was not pleasant. They were ripped to shreds. Yet
another attack had taken place that morning; this time it was one of their
finest warriors that had been the victim. The matter was now getting out of
hand as the village could not afford to lose those that protected it from
harm. I felt Qui-Gon's silent question as he looked over at me; nodding
imperceptibly, I gave my consent. How could I not? These people needed help,
and aiding people was what a Jedi did. Qui-Gon offered our assistance in
capturing the creature. The village warriors gratefully accepted. We went
hunting.
Together Qui-Gon and I tracked the beast, using the Force to guide us to
the so-called demon's lair. We found an animal similar to a tybar, which did
not appear to be indigenous to Eira. It was probably left behind by
smugglers or pirates or some other spacefaring group, and it had grown up
feral. It was now old and sick, preying on those weaker than itself. And it
was dying. Painfully. It was being eaten alive by its illness. So Master
Qui-Gon and I did the only humane thing possible. We gave it a merciful end.
The last thing either of us expected was to be proclaimed heroes or to be
inducted as Triethan warriors and members of the tribe.
The Triethan definitely know how to celebrate. The celebrations began the
day the demon died and have lasted all week. Tonight they come to a
conclusion with Qui-Gon and me being made brothers of the tribe and warriors
in our own right. We had to prove over the course of the week our value to
the tribe through various displays of skill and prowess. That was the easy
part. An important part of the ritual has involved the drinking of a tribal
concoction meant to cleanse the spirit. Master Qui-Gon analyzed it and
determined it would not kill us, so he felt that we shouldn't insult our
hosts by not taking part of this ritual. So we drank the foul tasting
concoction each day at dawn and dusk.
The potion seemed to have side effects though. It's been harder and
harder to keep my shields up. I find I am picking up stray thoughts and
emotions from Qui-Gon. That shouldn't be happening. I'm also finding that my
emotions are closer to the surface than ever. Emotions that should be kept
buried. My love for Qui-Gon flirts on the edge of my conscious thought, and
I find my personality changing. I... Gods above, I want to be owned, claimed
... taken. I want Qui-Gon to mark me, possess me. Make me his in such a way
that the vapid villagers get the hint and leave me alone. Yet I also want to
mark him, claim him as my mate, my alpha-male, so those bovin-eyed twits
realize that he's already taken and the one who has him is just as
possessive and jealous. This loss of control troubles me. It's going to lead
me into a world of trouble - I can feel it. It has gotten to the point where
I need to ask Qui-Gon what to do.
"Master, I'm not sure, but I think that elixir we've been drinking
has - affected me." I murmured softly. We are in our hut, preparing for
the last night of the ceremonies, the initiation of brotherhood.
"How so, Padawan?" came the calm reply. Master Qui-Gon looked
so serene, yet the cracks were beginning to show, just below the surface.
"I can't seem to maintain my shields as easily as I could before we
started drinking that stuff. And... and I'm catching stray thoughts and
feelings from you." A sharp look and a slight inhalation of breath tell
me this troubles him. Is Qui-Gon hiding something from me?
"As am I, Obi-Wan. All we can do is maintain our shields as best we
can and wait for the stuff to burn itself out of our bodies. It shouldn't
take too long to do so."
I try to seem calm, but Sith - I don't want him to know how I feel just
yet - not until I'm a Knight. "Yes, Master." Qui-Gon's eyes darken
to a stormy blue, and the look he gives me makes me want to shudder in
delicious anticipation. It is so primal, that look. Shielding has never been
so difficult as it is right now. Force above, I hope I can maintain them.
My shields are gone - I couldn't stop their collapse. The last cup of
that horrific brew scattered them the four winds, but oh the freedom. I have
no restrictions on my thoughts; they flow like water through my head,
quicksilver and light. Everything is there, on the surface. Thankfully Qui-Gon
is the only one who can read my thoughts, and he is avoiding me. A small
part of me wants him to see though, wants him to discover what has been
preying on my soul for these past two years. Why don't you read my mind,
Qui-Gon; what are you afraid of?
The heat of the celebration fire warms me even as it lights the meeting
lodge. The ceremonies are over. We are brothers to the tribe. A sudden
summer storm rattles the roof and howls at the door but inside the
celebration reaches its peak. I feel so carefree, so primitive in my native
garb of animal hide breeches and a form-hugging coarse woven shirt, open to
my navel. I know I look good; many of the young men and women have been
eyeing me as if I were a tasty treat, but the heat that sizzled in Qui-Gon's
eyes when he first saw me is the only approval I want. I feel sensual and
wanton. It is an almost forbidden delight to be this out of control, this
careless.
I glance over at my Master. How tightly he holds on to his control. The
heat in his eyes tells another story though - he wants me, he truly wants
me. I smile wickedly, tempting him, tempting myself. I know I am taking
chances, playing fast and loose, but something inside me goads me on. I
don't want my calm, placid Master; I want him wild and uncontrolled.
Unburdened by the rules and strictures of our real lives. This is fantasy,
make-believe. We are not Jedi here; we are members of the tribe - warriors.
I want to play with my warrior.
I am suddenly seized and pulled into the circle of dancers. It is the
young woman who first propositioned me those many weeks ago. She smiles
saucily at me.
"He is wild for you, you realize? If you keep teasing him like this,
you might find yourself mauled," she whispers conspiratorially. I throw
my head back in laughter. How did she know that this is what I wanted?
"Shall we make it harder for him to resist perhaps?" she continues
playfully.
As tempting as the offer is, I gently decline. I need only my Master.
Unbidden, the images spring to mind of my last fantasy. Qui-Gon, hard and
hot, pinning me to a wall, taking me almost violently. Ooh, how I love that
fantasy.
Another one scrolls through my head, the one where I dance for Qui-Gon.
Unconsciously I begin to mimic my fantasy, moving and swaying to the beat of
the drums. Dancing for my Master, my lover... my mate. My dance becomes
explicit, wanton. I move and gyrate to the drumbeats, my hips and pelvis
thrusting in a mockery of lovemaking.
I feel his mind brush mind, and my head snaps up. Our eyes lock, and my
breath catches. Force above, the heat blazing in your eyes, Qui-Gon! I
shiver from their fire.
There is knowledge in his gaze. He knows; he has seen my wants, my needs.
He knows how I feel about him - and it doesn't offend him. Lightly I skim
his mind and feel the answering heat and need. Gods, such passion and power
all concealed behind his Jedi serenity. For me. It's all for me.
But not here, not in a room full of strangers. I have wanted this for so
long, so badly, that I refuse to share it. I try to resurrect my shields to
hide my intent and break away from the dancing. I need fresh air, rain on my
skin... I need Qui-Gon! Follow me, Master, I dare you. Follow and see what
you have unleashed.
As I slip by a group of young warriors I have become friendly with, one
of them grabs me. Hador. He has been nursing an infatuation over me for two
weeks now, and the alcohol in his system has made him bold. Before I can
stop him, he is kissing me, thrusting his tongue down my throat. I'm stunned
and for a moment do nothing. In my mind I hear the growl of a wild beast.
Master - oh no...
Next thing I know, Qui-Gon is dragging me out of Hador's arms and out
into the storm. He yanks me across the village and into our hut. The rain
has soaked us both through, but the dampness next to my flesh does little to
curb my temper. A Jedi does not feel anger - so why am I so enraged that I
can literally see red? Isn't this what I wanted? His possession? Of course
it is, but it doesn't mean I have to give in so easily, just bend over the
table and wait for that final, exhilaratingly terrifying claiming. My blood
is hot in my veins, and I have this sudden overwhelming urge to make it
difficult for my Qui-Gon.
"What in the hells of the Sith has gotten into you, Qui-Gon?" I
grind out, forcing a confrontation. A look of rage and heat springs into
Qui-Gon's eyes, the look of a predator scenting his prey. Yes! That is the
look I want to see.
"Be careful, Obi-Wan," he warns softly. "Be very
careful." He looks wild, feral. His normally tamed hair is wildly
tossed; his eyes gleam with a dangerous light. "Don't you understand
that you are mine? How dare you let that pup touch you!" Qui-Gon
growls, enraged. He is the alpha-male in his full glory. Protective,
possessive, controlling. Oh, how delicious he is... but no, I will not give
in so easily, my Master, not when I want more... when I want
everything. So I let my fury catch light, and it warms my cool body. I crane
my neck up, exposing it, and as I had hoped, Qui-Gon's eyes lock on to the
exposed flesh. He licks his lips, and his eyes heat my blood to the boiling
point. "I know exactly who I belong to, Master Qui-Gon. I belong
to myself and to whomever I choose to share myself with. You are my teacher,
nothing more - by your own choice!" I snarl in sudden rage. He is so
damn sure of himself. The ego, the arrogance to think I will submissively
bow to whatever whims he desires me to.
A predatory smile spreads over his face. He seems almost overjoyed by my
defiance. I sense a great deal of satisfaction from him and... oh Sith,
perhaps this is a game I should not have played. I have forgotten that this
is no pitten to be played with; this man before me is a grown and hungry
tybar. And I have just dangled the most tantalizing bait in front of him.
Before I realize just what is happening I am slammed into the wall behind
me, Qui-Gon pushing his massive body into me, rubbing against me. I can feel
the thick pole of his erection grind into my stomach. He is so huge! I've
seen Qui-Gon naked, but he as always been un-aroused, and I have tried avoid
the temptation to look. Now I wish I had paid more attention because this
bar of flesh is enormous. And he wants to bury it inside me, that much is
very obvious. A cold finger of fear slides down my spine.
My mouth is claimed in a brutal kiss. Qui-Gon ravishes my lips and mouth,
scouring it with his tongue and teeth, devouring me. I try to shove him
back, away, even as I try to breathe, but Qui-Gon has me overpowered and
pinned to the wall. I moan, part ecstasy part fear, as I let myself go limp
in his embrace. I hear his animal-like groans of pleasure as I do so. It is
an old trick, feigning surrender, but one I hope he falls for. I have to get
away, regroup. I am being swallowed whole, sucked into the maelstrom that is
Qui-Gon Jinn.
He releases his adamantine grip on me. It is all I need. Using a
combination of the Force and my own strength, I shove against him, send him
staggering back, and bolt for the door. I need to put some distance between
us, and fast. Using Jedi enhanced speed, I retreat into the storm-tossed
blackness of the night. As Master Windu once told me, sometimes discretion
is the better part of valor.
I feel the predatory joy that engulfs Qui-Gon through our bond. He is
following, tracking me. I feel his shadowy image stalk after me into the
night, his mind casting about in the dark to find me. I try to re-assemble
my destroyed shields, try to make myself a ghost in the night. But I sense
him.
I am hunted.
End.
 since 02-17-07
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