Title: Jedi Don't Worry
Fandom: Star Wars, years before TPM
Characters: Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Tala D'Marke
Rating: G
Spoilers: I can't think of any
Disclaimer: Star Wars, contrary to popular belief, is actually not mine!
Can you believe it? And accordingly, this is all in fun and I don't' get a cent
J
Summary: Jumping back and forth between two time periods. The first involves Qui-Gon and Tala, who were roommates as initiates at the academy. The second involves Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan heading home on a cruiser after a mission. The story is mostly dialogue, I'm afraid. But good dialogue, hmm? J
Jedi Don't Worry
"Roll over, Qui. I've got some juice for you," the kind
voice whispered in the darkness of the room.
The young one in bed stirred with a snort, and pulled the
covers up to his ears.
"Come, now, you've got to drink something." He eased the
covers down slowly, gently. "Come on, Qui-Gon." Still no reply, save some
snuffling under the covers. "Qui-Gon Jinn, roll over and take a drink of this
right now or you will not be left alone the rest of the night." He
reached out and poked the man. Qui-Gon did not move. He poked again, and again,
and again, prodding constantly, annoyingly.
Giving into persistence, or just to get the man off his
back, Qui-Gon rolled over, grabbed the glass out of his roommate's hand and
took a few gulps. As the liquid settled against his taste buds, he winced, then
shoved it back. "You put medicine in that!" He wiped his mouth with the cuff of
his sleeve.
With a soft smile and a softer rub of the arm through the
blankets, "Would you have taken it otherwise?"
The answer was clear as Qui retreated back beneath the
covers with coughs and more sniffles.
With a sigh, "Blow your nose, you'll feel better, I
promise you." He eased the tissue box closer to the Jedi initiate in hint.
The young man shoved his head under his pillow, calling
back with muffled words, "I just missed my first off world trip and Marshall
got to go instead, I failed my saber skills test, I'm too dizzy to even sit up
to meditate and I just want to die I feel so bad. You think blowing my sniff,
sniff! nose is going to make me feel better, Tala?"
Lifting the pillow off Qui-Gon's head, Tala nodded. Of
course it would. "You won't know until you try." He guided two tissues to
Qui-Gon's nose with the command. "Now blow." Qui-Gon struggled a moment, trying
to pull back from the absurd. When he found there was no way to move and
nowhere to go, he gave in. Surprisingly, Qui-Gon noticed he difference at once.
"There now, was that really worth fighting over?" Tala tucked the covers around
him more tightly.
Qui-Gon grumbled an honest "No," and closed his eyes with
a yawn. He seemed so terribly tired lately; maybe it was from the sickness, or
maybe it was what Tala had slipped into the juice. Whatever it was, it was
making him feel warm and relaxed at the same time... and that made him feel
terribly sleepy.
Comfortingly, Tala put his hand on Qui-Gon's forehead,
not to feel the warmth but to administer a brief but powerful shot of healing
energy. He was young, but his healing powers even at this age could not be
denied. "There now, a bit of rest will do you wonders. That's it." His voice
was so soft now that it barely made a sound.
* * *
"There now, a bit of rest will do you wonders." Qui-Gon
stroked the young man's arm gently with a thick, strong hand. His other hand
held a datapad and rested on the other thigh where his padawan's head wasn't.
The young man shivered in his robe, curling in a ball and
closer to Qui-Gon for warmth. "Why's it always so cold on these cruisers?" He
sniffled, "Sniff! Sniff!" and rubbed his nose against his shoulder. "And
dark." That was the case, indeed. The belly of the ship where they were resting
was lit only by a single yellow light which had been growing dimmer since their
arrival, but in increments so small that only Qui-Gon took any notice of that.
He fidgeted, wiggling his nose. "And stiff." There were no beds, there were no
chairs. What there was happened to be a bench on the side of the wall which
Qui-Gon sat and Obi-Wan lay, curled just enough so that he did not fall off the
end.
"Why do you always complain about the temperature when
you want to change the subject?" Full of reason and logic and a kind tone in
his voice, the Jedi Master had him there.
But any snippy reply Obi-Wan might have made was barred
in an instant when his curled-up body tensed and recoiled. "hehhkkk...kehhh..."
the feeling built until his eyes snapped shut and his body retracted. "KEHT-chhhhh!
Heh-HEKT-chuhh!"
"Blesses." His hand stroked the young man's back, easing
him back into a state of relaxment, gilding his head back to Qui-Gon's thigh.
"Go to sleep, my Padawan. Please try."
Obi-Wan protested. "I'm too cold. Sniff, sniff!
And my nose keeps running."
With a sigh, Qui-Gon set down the datapad, picked up the
handkerchief carefully by the dry areas, and set it up in front of Obi-Wan's
face. "Give your nose a blow and I'll lead you in a healing trance."
Obi complied, blowing his nose into the handkerchief and
the closing his eyes. "Do I have to get up?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "Just relax and let me in." He
laid his hand on Obi-Wan's forehead, pressing gently, sending gentle, soothing
waves of the force.
Letting him in was not a problem, as the young man was
not feeling strong enough to put up any sort of blocks what-so-ever which
greatly attributed to his catching a cold on Endor in the first place. "Yes,
Master."
* * *
"Yes, Master."
"And even when ill, maintain the ways you must, hmm?"
Another nod. "Yes, Master Yoda." Obedient in his answer,
trying to make it sound and feel genuine when all he really felt was sick.
"Expect to see you this afternoon in my quarters I do.
With your work done." Master Yoda, standing eye-to-eye with Qui-Gon who lay
sideways in bed, tapped his stick on the floor a few times, then waddled out
with a few mutterings.
When the door had closed, Qui-Gon relaxed, giving a
frustrated sigh. "Tala?" he motioned for the box of tissues. "Can you get...?"
Tala rolled his eyes and waved his hand. The box jiggled
a little, unsteady for a moment, then floated across the room, landing on
Qui-Gon's lap. "Do you feel well enough to do the work, Qui-Gon?" If the man
couldn't get a simple box of tissues for himself, he had little hope of
creating a moving, to-scale model of the current galaxy using only light
particles by this afternoon. Master Yoda was being quite unreasonable in his
assignment and demands.
Qui-Gon shook his head, giving his nose a blow. "Is that
an offer to do it for me?"
"Hardly." Tala grinned. "It's an offer to make you feel
better so that you can do it yourself." He paused. "Unless you want Master Yoda
to tap more than the floor with his stick." He raised an eyebrow. "Step one,
sitting up." He had all intentions of getting up to help, but for some reason
he stayed put to see how Qui-Gon did on his own. Tala was reclining on his bed
on one side of the room, with datapads and models surrounding his bed. Master
Arnoch had given him a few challenging healing puzzles, but there was something
to be said for hands-on learning.
Qui-Gon struggled to sit up, shivering as the cold of the
dark room hit him. He snuffled, pulled back, and bent forward. "ehhhShooo!
ehhhKetchhh! HahChuhhh!" As if moving in slow motion, he brought his hand
up to his face, then rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist. Then he
reached for a tissue.
By then, Tala was beside him, sitting on the edge of the
bed, offering one from the box, as well as administering a pat on the back. The
sick roommate looked disoriented, and Tala could sense the dizziness coming
upon him. Perhaps if he didn't mention anything, Qui-Gon would simply ignore—
Qui-Gon collapsed against Tala, out cold. The man did not
faint, he did not swoon. He simply... passed out. Not so gracefully, but
suddenly, heavily, and without warning.
Tala pushed him off, jumping up instinctively. This was
not a good beginning, and this was supposed to be the easiest step of the
bunch. He pulled the blanket up, draping it over Qui-Gon's body. "We'll try
again when you wake."
* * *
"Did
you say something about my waking, Master Qui-Gon?"
He nodded, easing the boy off him. "I only wanted to get
up. I need to speak with the pilot. I sense a disturbance--"
Quickly, "I feel it, too, Master."
Qui-Gon nodded, rising. So it was strong enough for a
sick, sleepy padawan learner to sense. This was not a good sign at all. The
mission to Endor had been routine enough, and they had enjoyed the luxuries of
food and warmth while there. But it undeniably had been winter, and Obi-Wan had
slipped on the ice and broke his leg. Of course, it was in the name of heroism,
saving an Ewock child from slipping of the edge of a rather perilous cliff. But
it was broken, just the same. Qui-Gon had set it back in place, and instructed
Obi-Wan to rest. With pain shooting through him, and cold winds upon him,
Obi-Wan had not been at his best. And by the end of the two remaining days,
he'd caught a bit of a sniffle, indeed. Departure had been routine as well,
save for Qui-Gon carrying Obi-Wan aboard. The ride had been smooth and
problem-free until now. Obi-Wan attempted to rise as well, but Qui-Gon held him
down with his hand. "Stay, rest. I'll be back in moments."
Qui-Gon headed through to the cockpit, bending over as
the ceiling sloped to a wide window of view. "Anything out of the ordinary,
Captain?"
The man, an Alurian with blue skin and four arms, nodded.
"There's a ship on our tail. Thinks we have cargo, jamming our communications,
echoing all of my course changes."
"Course changes?" He had not been informed on this
matter.
"Standard procedure in this neck of the woods when
there's a stalker. Don't worry, we won't settle down anywhere, just trying to
confuse him. We wouldn't be in any condition to fight, anyway, we're unarmed."
"Hmmm," Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow in thought. "Please
inform me as soon as there is a change in the situation."
"Yes, Sir."
Qui-Gon returned to the belly of the ship, and to
Obi-Wan. The instant he saw his Padawan, he melted. The young man was sitting
upright in as much as he could, sneezing constantly. "ehh-KEHHTchhhh!
Hehh-EKKTshhhh! Heh-EKKKT-chooo!"
"Blesses, Padawan."
Obi-Wan looked up, face buried in the handkerchief for
the most part. "What... ehhh...heh-KESHHHhhhhh! Ekkk-KET-chuhhh!" He
sneezed, unable to finish his thought.
"There's a ship off starboard which is displaying some
hostile intentions. They're being watched, but their intentions are unclear and
they've blocked all com... Obi?"
"ehh-Het--het--HETCHhhhhuh! Ehhh-KEKT-choo!"
The Padawan was not in the mood for a troubling
conversation. He was sure everything would be fine, and a Jedi never worries,
but better not give Obi-Wan any reason to. "Blesses, lie down again, please."
They resumed position, Obi-Wan using his master's leg as a pillow again.
Qui-Gon's comforting hand soothed him in strokes and pets and soon they were
both a little more at ease.
* * *
"Lie down again, please, Qui-Gon."
The strong-willed young man protested. "Master Yoda..."
"... will be made to understand. You're ill, Qui!" He
patted Qui-Gon on the arm. "Besides, Jedi don't worry, right?"
Qui-Gon nodded, still a little worried about not being
able to do his work.
Tala finished. "I may not be a Jedi Master, and I may not
be a healer yet, but I'm still your roommate and I can still sense your
ailment. And when I say you're unwell, you're too ill to work, and that you're
going to get better only by staying down in bed then you're damn well going to
listen and obey!"
A little stunned at the speech, Qui-Gon simply gave a
nod. "Since when are you in charge of taking care of me?"
Tala tucked the blankets around him tightly. "Since I
needed to. Since when are you in the position of needing me to?" Tala punched
the man playfully, albeit affectionately, in the arm.
Qui-Gon sniffled. Some things were better left unsaid.
"I'll go see Master Yoda and explain your condition--"
"My condtion?" the ill initiate grumbled.
"--Yes, your condition. And I'll get you an extension on
your project."
Qui shook his head. "This isn't basic learning. They
don't grant sniff, sniff, extensions."
"He will this time." Tala reached over, plucked out two
tissues and handed them to Qui-Gon. "You're about to sneeze. Bless you in
advance."
"I'm not!" protested the young man. But as soon as the
words had left him, a sneeze began to brew in his nose. It tickled its way up,
brining the sneezey sensation on him in such sudden force that he had to snatch
the tissues away blindly as it began, lest he sneeze right in Tala's face. "ehh-Ihhshhhhhoo!
HehhhChishhhhooo! Cheshhh! Chooo! Hept-Chooo!" Finished for the moment, he
blew his nose and rubbed his forehead with his palm.
"Light-headed?" Tala asked, well knowing the answer.
Qui-Gon nodded, snuffling in self-pity.
No mocking, no joking, no simple muttering- Qui-Gon
needed some help. "I'm calling a healer over to see you."
Panic crossed the man's face. "No, no. I'm fi... fine... " he
faded with uncertainty to sneeze again, "ehhhUhshhhh! Cheshhhooo! Heh-hehhh...
heh-CHIIshhhhh!"
"Bless you again. And no, you're not fine." He
patted Qui-Gon's arm through the blankets. "You need someone to check you out."
Sniffling, "But Tala... can't you just...?"
In simple, clear answer, he shook his head. "I'm just an
initiate, Qui. I wouldn't ask you to save my life fighting off a monster with
your light saber right now, would I?"
With a shrug, "I guess not." Qui-Gon rolled over onto his
back, and Tala plumped his pillow a little to give him a better range of
breathing. "Stay with me?"
Nodding, "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're comfortable
with the healer before I go see Master Yoda."
* * *
"Stay with me?"
Qui-Gon stroked the young man's cheek gently,
understanding all too well what it was like to feel hurt and ill so many light
years from home. "Of course, Padawan. Can I get you something else?" He draped
his robe over the young man and remained in simply a tunic and tight pants.
There wasn't exactly anything else to get, but he felt the need to offer
anyway.
Obi-Wan shivered and cuddled up against Qui-Gon for more
warmth. "Just hold me... Master?"
There was silence a moment as Qui-Gon stared out at the
nothingness of the cabin. Finally he shook his head. "Thought I sensed
something." He hugged the young man against his chest. "Warm enough?"
A nod, a sniffle, a rub at his nose. Nothing else.
Qui-Gon reached down, handing the handkerchief over.
"Take it, you're about to sneeze."
Obi-Wan stirred beneath the blankets, pulling out his
hand to take it, but looking terribly confused. Then all of a sudden, "heh-KESHhhhh!
Kehh... kehh-Ehshhhhh! KET-Chuhhhh!" He sniffled into the handkerchief,
keeping his eyes closed.
"Bless you, Padawan."
"Thank you, Master." He cuddled affectionately. Qui-Gon
hugged back, wrapping his arms around as much of the man as he could,
squeezing, keeping warm, keeping calm.
All of a sudden, there was a great disturbance, and not
simply in the force this time. The ship rocked, and both men were thrown to the
floor. Obi-Wan had to bite his lip to keep from crying out as his leg was
smashed against the wall. Qui-Gon pulled the man out and turned him, his back
to the wall. "Stay, lad." Then hurried back to the front.
It was the ship, and this time it was attacking, and broadcasting.
"Surrender your cargo to us, disable your ship, and we'll spare you to
abandonment on the next planet if we're merciful. If you resist you will
be destroyed."
Qui-Gon scanned the computer panels. There was nowhere
near enough to land, and no ship near enough to help. They were sustaining
great amounts of damage. Quickly, he grabbed onto the headpiece of the pilot
chair as the ship was blasted again.
"Severe damage to the port side. Ship still intact." The
pilot was beginning to loose his cool, even with four hands it did not seem to
be enough and Qui-Gon was at a loss as far as ideas. "The first shot took out
our blasters, we're completely defenseless. It looks like we're out of options.
We can't outrun them, we can't hide, we can't fight back."
Qui-Gon nodded. "A solution will present itself. Be
patient."
The captain looked up, green eyes turning blue, then
orange, then red. "Patient? We're going to be killed!"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "If they board, they will not be
allowed to leave alive."
The pilot still looked flustered. "That's if they
board! It rather looks like we'll be destroyed first!"
The ship was hit again, harder this time, managing to get
both droids who were working on repairs. Qui-Gon closed his eyes a moment,
searching out for his Padawan. //Obi, are you all right?//
And very faint came the reply, //I am, Master.//
* * *
"Who is standing outside my chambers waiting?" came
Master Yoda's voice as the door opened automatically.
"I am, Master," Tala answered, stepping in as the door
closed behind him.
"Initiate D'Marke..." Yoda muttered, circling him with
narrowed eyes. "Expecting Initiate Jinn, I was. Come to speak on his behalf,
have you?"
Tala knelt, staring down at the floor in respect. "Yes,
Master."
"Come to make his excuses for him? Sent by him to make
these excuses?"
"Neither, Sir. He did not come because I would not allow
him out of bed."
Yoda's voice took on a curious tone. "Oh?"
"He is ill, and has trouble sitting up. Five times we
tried, and he is too dizzy to meditate for even a simple healing trance. He has
chills and congestion, coughs and sneezes. It is in his best interest to remain
in bed. He wanted to come, but I would not allow him to leave bed." A little
nervous, he cleared his throat. Strongly, he put forward, "I will not
allow him to leave his bed until he feels considerably better." Going against a
direct order was terms for banishment; perhaps he could spare Qui-Gon this by
putting the blame on himself. He was partially responsible after all.
Master Yoda stopped pacing and sat, looking very pensive
for a while, his green ears twitching atop his head. Finally, "Leave him alone
did you when you came here to me?"
Tala shook his head. "Of course not, Master. I called a
healer for him and made sure the healer did not leave until I returned."
Yoda nodded, hopping back up to his feet by use of his
stick. "Passed this test you have, Initiate D'Marke." He reached out and patted
Tala's head with his hand. "A fine healer one day you will make. Now go tend to
your roommate."
Stunned, and a little shocked, Tala gave a nod. "Yes,
Master. Thank you, Master. May the force be with you."
"And with you, Initiate D'Marke." Tala rose and started
out, pausing as Yoda added, "Oh, and Initiate D'Marke, tell Initiate Jinn that
your request for his extension on this project and all others is granted until
he makes his recovery."
With the surprise, he'd forgotten to even mention it!
Tala nodded. "Thank you, Master Yoda."
Tala hurried back on air. He couldn't seem to remember
when he had felt so good about his choices, his actions. Many times he got in
trouble, or was scolded for disobeying the rules. Staying too long in the
library after it closed. Missing lectures to administer some bedside manor to a
patient in the infirmary. Skipping saber training because he fell asleep
reading medical journals.
He returned to his quarters. Qui-Gon did not look so
good, curled up under the covers and sniffling rather constantly. The healer
went to him, holding out a small jar of herbs, to explain what needed to be
done for Qui-Gon. "What is that?" he asked in a medically curious sort of way.
* * *
"What is that?" Qui-Gon asked as a rather large gold blob
appeared on the tracking screen, closing in on their location.
"Looks like another ship," the pilot replied, stating the
rather obvious.
The
ship, clad in golden plating swarmed in, firing on the attacker, hitting first
the weaponry then the engines. In a matter of minutes, the ship was not only
disabled by retreating as fast as it could go.
Qui-Gon grinned, feeling the force flow through him.
Before anything else, he made the request, "If communications have been
restored, please open a channel to the ship."
The pilot quickly did so. "Do you know them, Sir?"
A nod
was Qui-Gon's only answer, as he rehearsed what he would say. No sooner was
communication open than Qui-Gon began. "We are most grateful for your
assistance, Aesculapius. Since when does a Jedi medical ship carry weaponry,
Tala?"
The holographic image of his old friend, Tala D'Marke
appeared in front of him. The man was reclining in the captain's chair. "Since
we were attacked a few months ago and all our supplies stolen so that we were
unable to complete a rather important mission." The image leaned forward.
"Since when has the mighty Jedi Master Jinn needed saving?"
Qui-Gon smiled, as Tala always made him do.
"So," Tala changed the subject. "Who's sick over there?
You look well, Qui-Gon." One of the few times he did; the last two times seeing
Tala had seen one or the other of them ill.
"My padawan is suffering from a paining broken leg, I'm
afraid." Perhaps it was best to spare the boy any embarrassment.
With a sigh, "Well, I'm afraid it's unsafe to board in
this area, or set down anywhere. But we can send a pod over with some supplies.
Something to numb the pain a little, and something to clear up that head cold,
all right?"
"I should have known better." Even without full Jedi
powers, Tala knew him too well.
"Yes," Tala smiled. "You should have. You'll be back on
world soon. No reason to worry about him." The ship grabbed onto the probe,
brining it inside. "Though I doubt my word on that subject won't stop you from
doing so. Takes after his Master, doesn't he?"
Another nod. "Thanks, Tala. We are truly grateful. I hope
we run into each other again soon."
"You can bet on it. Take care!" Communication ended as
quickly as it had begun, and the ships went on their separate ways, better for
the encounter.
* * *
"Are you sure I'b dot ruddig a fever?"
Tala nodded. "You can bet on it. You're just a little
light headed and chilly. Have some tea, it will help."
Qui-Gon took it, raising an eyebrow. "I subbose you
slibbed bedicide idto this ode as well?"
With a smile, "You won't even taste it, I promise."
With a grumble, Qui-Gon sipped a little and handed it
back. He froze a moment, two, then pitched forward, "ehhIhhshhh!
heh-Cheshhhoo! Chishhh!"
"Bless you," Tala remarked, passing over the tissues
again. He put his hand on Qui-Gon's forehead once more, sending warm, healing
energy waves over.
"Thags, Tala." He snuffled, taking another few sips of
the tea and feeling his eyelids grow heavy. "I'b dot keebig you frob work, ab
I?"
A shake of his head, and a pat on the arm. "Not at all,
Qui-Gon. Just let me know if you need anything else." He pulled up a pillow and
a data pad and settled down to work on the floor just beside Qui-Gon's bed.
"I'm here for you, all right?"
A nod, a sniffle, a yawn. "Thags, Tala."
"You're welcome. Now just relax."
* * *
"Now just relax..." Qui-Gon's voice was soft, soothing.
"My leg doesn't hurt any longer. Master, I can walk--"
His
master's eyes were strong, unyielding. That was the painkiller Tala had given
talking. The young man would crumble with pain and embarrassment to the ground
if he were to try to put his weight on it. "I don't care, I will carry you
anyway." Obi-Wan had been held in Qui-Gon's arms many times before, but never
carried. It was amazing the man had such strength- it looked like nothing to
the Jedi Master to hold his Padawan in his arms as they left the cruiser and
headed down the halls. Instead of going straight home, they stopped by the
healing dome for Obi-Wan to get checked out. The young man leaned against
Qui-Gon the whole time, nodding off every few minutes as he was poked and
prodded. His leg was given some support and strengthening, his cold was given
some herbs and strict meditation orders.
Qui-Gon carried him back, and the young man dozed on the
ride back home. Before long, Obi-Wan had been tucked into bed and Qui-Gon sat
on the edge, exhausted but keeping himself awake until he was assured Obi-Wan
was fine. "Are you sure you don't need anything else, Padawan?"
He nodded, breathing in the scent of the pillow as he
sunk into it. Familiar home. He suddenly sat up and looked around.
"Yes, Padawan. My bed. I'll join you in a moment if you
like, otherwise stretch out and feel comfortable and feel better." Obi-Wan
smiled, settling back down, holding his hand out to his master. Qui-Gon joined
him in bed, gently holding the man against him beneath the blankets. "Warm enough? Need to blow your nose?"
Obi-Wan yawned, closing his eyes. "I'll be all right,
Master. You don't need to worry about me."
"Jedi don't worry," he responded out of instinct, giving
the man a secure squeeze and giving into his own fatigue.