dear me . i am terminally ill and my only chance at recovery is a 10+ slice of life chapter plasmashipping fic featuring smitten loser kai , emotionally stunted pathetic jay/rogue, and so so so so so much fluff that it fills my head with cotton on my bedside table by TONIGHT
Star Wars Alternate Universe Number Twenty-Four:
(Crack/ Wildly Self Indulgent)
“Good news, Padawan!”
Obi-Wan looked up warily. After twelve years as Qui-Gon Jinn’s apprentice, he had learned to be cautious of open-ended declarations like that.
“What is it, Master?”
“I’ve solved the Corellian Guild Dispute!”
Obi-Wan raised a brow. “That...is good news. I thought we would be here for months longer, at the least. How ever did you manage”
Qui-Gon smiled serenely while staring his Padawan straight in the face.
The 24-year old apprentice groaned internally. Force. This is going to be a bad one, isn’t it?
“A Sbazmark Executive agreed to put his weight behind the Republic’s favored agreement, and managed to pull enough people into line that the rest of the delegates followed suit!”
Obi-Wan matched Qui-Gon’s smile with a frown of equal weight. “Sbazmark? I’m not familiar. And why, exactly did they agree to put their weight behind an agreement at your request?”
“Oh, it’s a local company. Doesn’t do much business off world, really,” Qui-Gon said airily, walking over to the dresser.
Obi-Wan closed the datapad he was reading, staring daggers into his Master’s back.
“Qui-Gon. What exactly is this company’s business, and what precisely did you promise you would — or more likely, we would do for them, in exchange for this favor?”
Much to Obi-Wan’s distress, his Master began pulling out various articles of Obi-Wan’s clothing, examining them briefly before tossing them aside.
“Oh relax, my over-anxious apprentice. It’s just a holodrama company, nothing nefarious.”
Qui-Gon threw one of Obi-Wan’s sleeveless tees for warmer climate’s onto the bed, as well as one of his tightest pairs of training pants; the senior padawan very nearly ran for it. Only years of training to find peace in the most trying circumstances kept him seated calmly in place.
“And what, exactly did the CEO of a holodrama company want in exchange? And what does it have to do with the...brief... outfit you’re apparently putting together for me?”
Master Jinn whirled around as if shocked. “Brief! Oh you don’t think- oh, Padawan I would never agree to something that would compromise your dignity.”
He sounded so earnest that Obi-Wan almost believed him, but unfortunately Qui-Gon was wearing his guileless ‘oh-who-me?’ expression that meant he had agreed to something that Padawan Kenobi would definitely loathe.
Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes.
“Master. What. Did you. Agree to?”
Qui-Gon heaved a dramatic sight. “Honestly, Obi-Wan you work yourself up over the smallest things. A good Jedi is above such petty irritation. A true knight learns that no task is beneath his — hey, where do you think you’re going?”
Qui-Gon grabbed the back of his padawan’s robes as he attempt to bolt out the door.
“I can’t do another Ringo Vanna! I can’t end up naked and covered with mud again just because you made some unsanctioned deal with some community leader who thinks I have a ‘pleasing aura.’”
Obi-Wan struggled, half-hysterical, but Qui-Gon had managed to get both arms around him in a crushing bear hug.
“I’m not doing it!“ Obi-Wan cried as he squirmed in Qui-Gon’s grip. “It’s—it’s undignified! It’s not part of the mission! Whatever nonsense it is, you can do it!”
He wouldn’t be able to escape without seriously escalating the conflict. And if he did that, then Qui-Gon would frown at him, disappointed, and end up guilting him into going along with whatever back-room bargain started all this.
“Relax, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said soothingly. “I know I’ve led you into some unorthodox situations in the past- all of which you’ve borne with great dignity, I’m proud to say—”
The apprentice hung his head in defeat. His Master had brought out the ‘p-word’. No way he was getting out of this now.
“—But this is nothing like that, I swear. The executive happened to pass by while you were chanting with the Green Jedi—”
“I knew I shouldn’t have done that ritual. I knew it,” Obi-Wan muttered.
“—And he admired your voice so much that he wants you to guest star in one of his holodramas! It will be fun! A few days of singing, fully clothed, I swear, and you’ll never have to think about it again.”
“This is going on holo?!” Obi-Wan squeaked, struggling again.
“It’s a local company! You’d never even heard of them before! Remember?” Qui-Gon pleaded. “It will put our mission forward by months! A few days of light-hearted singing in some silly Corellian holovid that no one will ever see and we can’t be back at the temple in no time! I’ll let you spend a whole week in the archives without getting on your case once.”
Obi-Wan groaned. “Two weeks! And you’re buying me Dex’s! Whatever I want! And I’m not showing anything below the collarbone! And you never mention this within Temple walls, or anywhere Quinlan Vos could ever hear, or anywhere near where anyone who might speak to Vos would ever hear! Actually, you never speak of this again! To anyone! For any reason! And personally ensure that Vos never goes on a mission to Corellia for the rest of his life! Subtly.”
“Done!” Qui-Gon said quickly. “I knew you’d come around. I’m proud of you, my noble padawan.”
The overgrown Master released his smaller apprentice, and Obi-Wan collapsed sideways onto the bed.
“Just...stop with the wardrobe stuff, ok?” he pleaded. “They’re probably going to dress me in something ridiculous anyway.”
Qui-Gon Jinn beamed. “It’s a pre-contact holodrama, very historical. From what the producer showed me, I think the outfits will be quite fetching and modest. Well. The male outfits are modest anyway.”
Obi-Wan covered his head with his hands. “What is that supposed to mean?” he asked weakly.
“Oh you know those Corellian holodramas, someone always flashes some skin- and since I made it quite clear it wasn’t going to be you, I imagine they’re going to have to overcompensate with the other actors. Nothing to worry about I’m sure. Up you go, I told them we’re on a tight schedule, so you’ve got to be at the studio in an half an hour.”
“Master Jinn...” Obi-Wan whined into his hands. “Why do you always do this? How do you always talk me into this nonsense?”
Qui-Gon grabbed his padawan’s right ankle, dragging him from the bed until Obi-Wan was forced to scramble up or risk hitting the ground
“The answer to your question is simple. I follow the will of the force, and you are my brilliant and loyal student. Come on now, you want to get off this planet, soon, right? That’s practically the whole advantage of this deal. Sooner you start, sooner you’re done.”
Obi-Wan stood at the threshold, staring at his Qui-Gon’s back and once again considering running for it.
“Come along, Padawan,” Master Jinn called over his shoulder. “Delaying deliberately is rude.”
“...Yes, Master.”
- - -
Filming ended up being not quite as humiliating as he expected, though he did corner his Master to whisper-shout a few time.
“Guest Star! Guest Star! I’m the kriffing lead!”
“Calm down Padawan, you’re excellent at memorization, I’m sure a few extra lines won’t hurt—”
- - -
“It’s about prostitution! I fall in love with a prostitute!”
“Now padawan, I know I taught you to have respect for all professions—”
“You KNOW that’s not my point—”
- - -
“QUI-GON THERE ARE SEVERAL INTIMATE SCENES!”
“None of which require you to show anything more than your shoulder bones, honestly, don’t be such a prude.”
“I am not a prude for having some doubts about being a Jedi in a lurid holofilm —if the council ever found out—”
“You worry far too much about the Council—”
“QUI-GON!”
“Relax, Mace used to do theatre, I’m sure even if this random holodrama manages to reach the council decades from now he’d just use it as an excuse to discuss his performance in the Alderranian Night Flower, honestly—”
- - -
“Yes, yes, I promise that Quinlan Vos won’t find out, really, it’s not even going to be released with your name.”
- - -
Filming took two weeks, much to his and the crew’s irritation, who very much disagreed regarding the amount of time that should be involved in the creation of a holo film. Parts of it were almost fun at points (not that he would ever admit it to Qui-Gon). He found himself rather enjoying the singing at least (to his pleasant surprise). Perhaps he’d accompany his crechemates to spakareoke next time they asked.
The next year was busy enough to push the looming release date out of his thoughts. Then Naboo...Tatooine...
Naboo again.
Qui-Gon’s funeral.
Between suddenly losing a Master, becoming a knight, and gaining a padawan, Obi-Wan utterly forgot the relatively brief incident on Corellia.
Nearly three years later, he returned from an exhausting and over-extended mission, eleven year-old Anakin tripping over his heels, only to be greeted as he left the shuttle bay by a grinning Quinlan Vos. Obi-Wan began walking faster.
“Come on, Padawan, when Knight Vos smiles like that it’s never a good sign,” he muttered.
“Yes, Master,” Anakin chirped, though he shot a curious look at the Kiffar Jedi as they hurried past.
“No worries, you’re free to leave me! But just don’t deceive me!” Quinlan called gleefully after him.
“What’s he talking about, Master?”
Obi-Wan frowned. The phrase was almost familiar. “I’m sure I have no idea—” he began to answer, before the memory clicked into place.
“Oh. Oh, no.” He stopped, feet frozen in horror.
“What is it, Master?” Anakin asked anxiously.
“Come on Obi-Wan! In the name of love!” Vos called out, making Obi-Wan wince.
“Anakin — go to our quarters,” he grit out. “Walk directly to our rooms this instanr.”
Knight Kenobi looked over his shoulder to glare at the irritating tracker, who only grinned wider, leaning carelessly against a wall as though he wasn’t about to casually destroy his supposed-friend’s life.
“Have I ever told you how wonderful life is now you’re in the world!” Quinlan all but shouted down the hall.
Obi-Wan turned on his heel and strode back towards his doom, Anakin ignoring his orders to follow close behind.
Obi-Wan grabbed the front of the Kiffar’s vest, dragging him into a side hallway while a passing Cerean knight eyed them curiously. “Come on Christian, In the name of love!”
“Would you shut up?” he whispered furiously.
“Come on, baby,” Quinlan smirked with a shit-eating grin. “I Was Made For l-wo-oah”
Obi-Wan shook him desperately, “Be quiet for 30 seconds! It was a mission! Qui-Gon promised he would personally prevent you from finding out but obviously that didn’t happen, ok?!”
Quinlan’s smirk slid away to be replaced by a guilty twist, “Oh. Kriff, Obi-Wan, I— uh—”
Bant skidded around the corner. “Did I miss him? I—Oh there you are Christian- In the Name of Love—” Quinlan made a frantic jerking motion at his neck.
Obi-Wan let go of the other knight, stumbling back in horrified realization. “You’ve already told the entire temple, haven’t you?” he mumbled.
“Well—not the entire temple—”
“Told them what?” Anakin asked, clearly getting annoyed.
“Oh, Christian, you’re here!” Garen called out, appearing with an expressiong of overly casual surprise. “Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place!”
“What’s going on? Why is everyone calling you that?” Anakin demanded.
Obi-Wan buried his head in his hands, face flaming. “Please, Anakin —just...just go to our rooms. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Kit Fisto rounded the corner. “Oh there you are Bant! And Knight Kenobi, how come you never told anyone about your gift?”
“What gift?” Anakin asked, stomping his foot.
“His song!” Kit and Bant said in unison, grinning at each other and high-fiving at the perfect synchronization. Obi-Wan sunk to his knees.
“What’s! Going! On!” Anakin yelled.
Obi-Wan moaned into his palms. “I have to leave the Order.”
“What!” Anakin said horrified. “You can’t leave the Order, Master! You’re the best Jedi ever!”
“Yeah Obi-Wan, Come what may —” Quinlan started but cut himself off when Obi-Wan glared through his fingers.
“How did you even find out?” he asked, shoulders sagging in defeat. “It was supposed to stay on world.”
“Uh. Yeah, it kind of won a Chromium Globe. Sorry.” Quinlan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“No.” Obi-Wan rasped. “No one was ever supposed to see—”
“A Chromium Globe?” Anakin asked, practically in tears. “Why would you have to leave the order because of a holofilm?!”
“Calm down, Padawan Skywalker, Knight Kenobi’s not leaving the order, he’s just being dramatic.” Master Windu called out, and Obi-Wan tried desperately to release his embarrassment into the force.
“Though—” Windu paused. “I’m sure if he did, he would make an excellent sculptor. Or traveling potion maker.” The group snickered helplessly while Anakin frowned.
“It’s alright Anakin, they’re just teasing me.” Obi-Wan sighed. “A few years before I met you, I was on a diplomatic mission. And missions with Qui-Gon often had- unorthodox conclusions. I ended up starring in a...ugh...in a period holovid. I’d rather not—”
“That man.” Master Windu muttered.
Anakin gasped. “You’re a holostar!” He looked up excited at Quinlan. “You said it won an award!”
“Yeah!” Quinlan replied eagerly. “We had a screening while you two were away—”
“You did what”
“—but I can put it back up on the big projector for you!”
