[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Covalent Bonds

Chapter 30

"We're on for the terentatek mission in about one month." 

"But Master Yoda said 'Masters only' for it. What happened?" It'll be perfect, you and I together, but why so? 

"Siri has been assigned another mission.  She's to help Master Gallia separate her group from the Jedi in a practical, efficient manner." And Siri was not pleased with the assignment, not at all. Things would have gone over worse if she had known about being originally considered for the terentatek mission.

 
"It's all falling into place soon?" Anakin patted the spot beside him, but Obi-Wan continued to pace. He faltered before the mirrored closet doors once, gave himself a quick once-over, cinched his belt tighter and then continued his circuit.
 
"It seems so. Master Yoda and Master Gallia have been meeting all along. He became much more amenable to her departure when the Olanet Three Hundred were assigned to the rebels." Obi-Wan made a visible effort to stop pacing. He halted before the open window instead as the sheers billowed in a balmy breeze. The late afternoon was splendid with the promise of summer. There were even bird songs audible from Knight Fee's well-tended gardens. 

'Rebels?' Never. A schism, after all these centuries. Huh. "The breakup was amicable?" 

"Two hundred fourteen Jedi will be leaving at the end of this year, end of the war or no." Obi-Wan shook his head ruefully. "It's reasonable that Porrie may join the Force before she will be able to leave, and she can hardly wait, erm, to leave, that is. She's our eldest human Jedi." 

"I brought Master Porpalam some datapads in the infirmary once two years ago, when you had your last appointment with Master Lu. She said the only thing she regretted about joining the Force in her due time was that she did not know whether to begin reading L'levalc's latest trilogy or continue with its short stories anthology."
 
Dear Master Porrie. She's slightly more muddled now. What a difference fourteen standard years makes between her and her friend Jocasta Nu. Almost the same as betw-- "Did she call you by your right name? Wait, she wouldn't mistake the Chosen One for any other Padawan."
 
"She lisped it, yes. Obi-Wan, please sit down." 

"In a bit, Padawan. The meeting was energizing. Besides, I need the exercise." Master Yoda said he may revise his thinking and Knight you sooner rather than later. I can't digest this yet. "The mission may end the war. It's worth getting steamed up about."
 
Meetings were easier on you when Master Yoda was more autocratic. "I told you yesterday, you're not getting a paunch. But back to the meeting, so you had a larger voice in Council than usual? Did it turn into an argument?" There had been no banked flames of anger in the Force during the Temple's afternoon hush. 

"It was loud but not rancorous. I like negotiating, so I didn't mind, and since our new Code, there's been plenty noise when we disagree. There were only a few fine tunings of Master Yoda's revision of the Code that we made." Mace and I about attachments, mainly. It helped that he had heard your debate about them so long ago. "You'll be in on the next meeting, make no mistake. We need input on how to conceal ourselves better on the NabooExpress freighter. Something in your area of expertise on mechanics ought to do it."
 
"I could have foreseen it."
 
Obi-Wan whirled. "Vision?"
 
"Not about attending the meeting, but I had one on Olanet. You were falling. I couldn't catch you."
 
"Did I join the Force?"
 
So calm. "No. Well, I didn't See it, anyway." 

Obi-Wan sat at last by Anakin's side. "I did fall, with Siri. We were plastered together after the gravity cut in and then after the gravity went out again, we clung together for dear life while we made our Force-bubble blanket." 

"But the blanket was holey." Mmmm. She didn't look after him.
 
"No, there wasn't time to fully form protection before the radiation hit -- " 

"And your fall wasn't quite a fall, either. It couldn't be, not in null-grav. It would be a float." 

I regret training him in negotiating basics. He's going for the fine points, but not all issues need to be argued. Sometimes a fall is just a fall. Obi-Wan waggled a hand. "Part in gravity, part in null. Your point?"
 
"I mean -- " Anakin took the hand -- "that my vision showed you dropping in clear air, not on an orbital platform. So that means that an event like this is coming up." The something saturated their room. Obi-Wan had to notice. "But the only fall I want to think of is you into my arms." I won't worry too much about it, because I will be with you and not Master Tachi.
 
Obi-Wan cleared his throat. "Erm, yes, Anakin, but about the vision, we'll never force the Force's hand. We'll go insane picking every stray notion apart. The future -- "
 
" -- 'always in motion, it is.' Yes, I know." Anakin kissed Obi-Wan's knuckles. 

Does the Force even have hands? And could some outside, uh, force do to its hands what Anakin is doing to mine? Anakin drew Obi-Wan firmly down beside him and Obi-Wan thought about resisting, but capitulated to the attractive something. They kissed as they had aboard the Dubious Content until Anakin gasped into Obi-Wan's mouth, "I've missed you like this for two solid years." He couldn't stop touching Obi-Wan, running hot hands up and down and all around his torso. 

"You've got me now." Darling, slow down.
 
I'm burning. "Ohhh, yes, now I've got y-- " Anakin didn't finish his sentence. With lips hot and sure, he kissed down the column of whiskered throat, sticking his tongue out to forge a path through the auburn forest, diving into the hollow at the notch of the throat. A pulse leaped there as he sucked in a riffle of skin and bit down, marking tender flesh. Shouldn't show too much through the hairs.
 
Obi-Wan quivered and pulled away. "Anakin, let's go to the gardens."
 
Huh? "Now?" 

"I hear the desert plums are in bloom." Obi-Wan pulled his tunic back together, wiping wet off his beard with his sleeve after Anakin closed his eyes in disbelief. 

Desert plums, the ones from Tatooine that Fee has growing in the sandbox? "Really? They are?" The aroma of desert plum blossoms accentuated all the senses. Jedi used them for rejuvenating those tired from battle, from negotiating, from what stresses the galaxy could bring to Force-sensitives. For three years, Knight Fee tended their growth, inviting all Jedi from the Temple grounds to the furthest reaches of the Outer Rim to refresh their spirits by inhaling the effluvium of desert plum blossoms. Those utilizing it walked with a lighter step on the Jedi path for days afterward. Anakin adjusted his leggings more comfortably after he sprang to his feet, eyes wide.
 
"Obi-Wan, excellent idea! And we can climb to the Satellite." The Satellite perched atop two zaela trees, aged four thousand twelve and four thousand fourteen years respectively. The treehouse named Satellite had first been built as a single platform between them, because zaelas were as attuned as two plants could be and swayed together always. Their needles' soughing soothed any listener and when the Satellite had been built, Knight Yoland Fee had been Padawan Fee, the Living Force made manifest. Padawan Fee grew the gardens, Padawan Jinn appreciated them. That was the way that things worked for season after season. After Naboo, no one had to tell Knight Fee of Qui-Gon's passing. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin had found Fee kneeling in a seedbed upon the return from Naboo. Anakin was learning his place and said nothing even as he heard everything. 

Fee didn't look up at their approach. "Jinn walks in the Force, doesn't he." It wasn't a question. Fee continued to delve and plant seedlings, covering the young roots tenderly with his trowel. 

"Part of it, he is. Brave, he was. Mourn your friend not." Nonetheless, Yoda bowed his head. 

"And he'll not walk through my garden, ever again."
 
Yoda sank his gimer stick in the loam next to Fee's filthy knees. "In everything, now he is." A simple soul, Yoland Fee owns. The warrior-diplomat path, never for him could it be. The four of them shared silence.
 
Obi-Wan couldn't speak through the lump at his throat at the time, but he remembered the day he, Anakin, Fee and Master Yoda had acknowledged Qui-Gon's passing in this very spot when the sandbox came into view in a declivity near the base of the towering zaela trees. Three members of the Bear Clan played in the sandbox, in the opposite corner from the desert plum plants. Normally, the bulbs resided beneath the surface of the area, but in late spring they gathered their strength to push stalks through the grainy pit and there they sprouted, six stalks, six blooms. The three Initiates scrambled to their feet and flippers and back paws. 

"Councilor Kenobi, sir!" breathed Liam. He dug his foot into the sand.
 
"The Chosen One, ohhh!" whispered the other two in tandem. 

"Hello there," Obi-Wan said warmly. "May we join you?"
 
The three younglings stared at each other. "Yes?" Liam squeaked.
 
Anakin tightened his lips upon stepping in sand once more, but sat gamely on the edge of the retaining wall while Obi-Wan helped to construct a three-spired Temple in the sand. The five Jedi chatted until Master Ali-Anann shooed the Clan inside for their early dinner and storytime. Obi-Wan and Anakin eyed each other and dove for the blooms. 

"Heady."
 
"Mmm. I feel great."
 
"Flameflower undertones, don't you think?" 

"Yes, with roses on top of them." Obi-Wan pulled back. I can take this scent in small doses. Must be my new midichlorian count. "Let's climb."
 
They climbed the set-in steps grafted into the oldest thirty-five-meter-high tree trunk, spiraling up. Obi-Wan pointed out a snow falcon's nest near the top of their ascent, filled with peeping fuzzy chicks. They closed the hatchway beneath them and stood on the planking. A rim the width of Obi-Wan's hand was the only safeguard from the drop. Obi-Wan moved inwards across the radius of the round structure toward the elder tree's trunk. No one had been here in some time to clean. There were mounds of zaela needles everywhere, with a fragrant heap of them under an overarching branch. With feathery new needles growing on one gently swaying limb, the heap was fringed by a green curtain. It was an inviting bower. Obi-Wan sat down on it. 

Anakin clasped his hands behind him as he looked out at the view of the sheltering Temple and then down to the greensward. "All the younglings are inside." 

"Yes. Anakin, remember the joke that Siri told on the way to Naboo?" 

He's getting in the mood. "There were so many -- "
 
Obi-Wan lay back on the needles, sending small bursts of repellent energy into the stingbeetles residing therein. Four of the biting creatures scuttled into the crack between the decking and the zaela tree's trunk and Obi-Wan relaxed completely. He crossed his arms beneath his head and admired the green-fringed view of the sky. "Two lovers, Haimmej and Natszyrk, shared quarters for years until Haimmej sickened. The Healers told them, 'Listen, I know you two love each other to the end of the galaxy, but you're going to have to cut out the lovemaking or Haimmej will die of exhaustion.' Haimmej and Natsyrk grumped and seesawed about it, but what could they do? They finally agreed and went home. Haimmej moved to the downstairs bedroom while Natszyrk slept upstairs alone. Five weeks passed. One night -- '" 

"It was a dark and stormy night," Anakin broke in, grinning.
 
Obi-Wan challenged, "So you do remember. All right, Padawan, finish it." 

"That's an order?"
 
"One of many yet to come," Obi-Wan drawled.
 
"Oh. Oh! One night, dark and stormy, it was, Haimmej felt her way slooowly up the stairs. She met Natsyrk midway. 'What are you doing?' she asks. 'I'm on my way down to kill you,' he says. 'Kriff,' she says, 'I was on my way up to die!'"
 
"Ahahahahahaha. Haha. Ha. Come here, you." Obi-Wan leaned up on one elbow, beckoning with looks and words and outstretched hand and Anakin Force-leaped to his side, rolling both of them together until his longer form completely covered his Master's. With quick hands, Anakin skinned Obi-Wan out of uniform, Obi-Wan not lifting a finger. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin shucked off his own clothing. Sensing and now seeing Anakin's great need, Obi-Wan spread his legs. Anakin knelt between them, kissed Obi-Wan's opening hungrily and positioned himself.
 
"My knees have missed your ears," husked Obi-Wan.
 
Anakin chuckled. "You're simply full of pithy sayings this afternoon, Obi-Wan." He smoothed the unruly lock of hair from Obi-Wan's forehead, kissing the touch of gray sprouting from his temples. He didn't think he could love this man any more than yesterday, but he did. 

"I want to be full of you." 

"No sooner said than -- uhn -- done."
 
Anakin commenced to move, gritting his teeth with the effort to control himself. Obi-Wan's flushed skin turned even redder with the zaela needles goading his back. They prickled and burned like small whips, small poking fantastic whips. Obi-Wan writhed against them to accentuate the sensations, crushing the needles together enough to send their pitchy aroma to his overloaded senses. Anakin had never been a blaster before, something more like a bubbling fountain, but today Obi-Wan's heightened midichlorian energy sense alerted him to the change. Obi-Wan drifted away with that realization. 

It was beyond Anakin's strength to hold back anymore and as he sank further into Obi-Wan's hot depths, he lost all sense of time and even the Force. It was too solemn, too heartrendingly right for them to be together in these gardens and he avoided breaking into tears by thinking of that silly joke. With his mechno-arm squeaking with the jolting power of his thrusts, he did manage to hold out for a few minutes. Then all went red, then black as he collapsed on top of Obi-Wan, who hadn't come at all. 

"S-Sorry ... don't know what ... came over me ... " 

Obi-Wan lay still, head to one side, arms limp, hair plastered to his forehead.
 
"Obi-Wan? Master?" He's not moving. I've killed him. Irrational thought followed irrational thought as he slapped Obi-Wan's cheeks. He was not all right I've killed him I only wanted us to be like on Trow or Tatooine or the first heady days when we first came back to the Temple why did he have to die 

"Mmmm."
 
"Obi-Wan!" Anakin gathered Obi-Wan into his lap and buried his cheek against his chest, breathing in great relieved gasps. 

"What ... so good ... must have blacked out ... " Obi-Wan allowed the galaxy to return him to his senses. Whew. Must have been a combination of the desert plum blossoms and my accentuated midichlorians. Those needles were ... interesting.
 
"Anakin." 

"Are you all right?"
 
"I'm fine. I was overcome with your impetuosity, but then I wanted to be, so let go of me, darling." Obi-Wan patted Anakin's head reassuringly.
 
Love nurtures, it doesn't possess. Right. "Next time we'll prepare, we'll know better, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -- " 

Knock-knock. "Master Kenobi?" Zett Jukassa's voice cracked on the middle section of Obi-Wan's name. Knock-knock. The hatch opened a crack.
 
"Wait, Zett. One moment."
 
The soughing of zaela needles whited out scrambled sounds of rustling clothing and hurried whispers.
 
"All right, Zett."
 
"Sorry to interrupt," Zett greeted the two properly attired Jedi who regarded him benevolently. "Regards to you from Master Windu. He thought you might be up here. Would you please join him in the council chamber?"
 
Meanwhile, on Byss ... 

The crystal shards became me nearly fourteen Standard hours after I was started. I was sentient, but not mobile. I didn't have a name until twenty-three hours after my beginning and I moved alone after thirty-one hours became thirty-two. I could see then. I pulled myself out of my growth tube five minutes after my sibling to my right did and five minutes before my sibling to my left. I stood at attention. My Maker addressed me. I strained to hear and make sense of his words.
 
"What is your designation?" 

"Knife Eight." Yes, that was correct. 

"And your purpose?"
 
"To kill."
 
"And?"
 
What else was there? "To ... obey you."
 
"Better. At some point I may ask you to refrain from killing." 

"By your command, Maker."
 
Grievous waved his favorite lightsaber over Knife Eight's platoon. The Spaarti cloning chamber hall glittered fiercely and he adjusted his eyes to compensate. 

TBC

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