MEMBERS OF THE WEDDING

by ardavenport

- - - Part 7


The wedding went well.

There were no surprises, no more assassins. Qui-Gon sensed a strong disappointment in the Archbishop, when she complained about the traditionalists being 'all talk and no grallets' at the reception. She had wanted a chance for her droids to demonstrate that they could be as fast and effective as Jedi. Qui-Gon graciously accepted her discontent with no comment.

The collective gasp from the large crowd when they first saw Qui-Gon ascend the steps to the raised dais under the flower-covered canopy had not been to his liking. But his only task in the whole ceremony was to lead the the glowing green and giggling couple in their vows and declare them 'united in bliss'. Nealdine and her priests did everything else amidst a splendor of scented flowers, hanging streamers, flags and a flock of colorful floater droids that prompted the crowd in the High Chapel when it was time for them to cheer, sing and stomp. And the Archbishop, standing at a high podium, pronounced her son dis-inherited at the end of the service. The crowd erupted in shouts of joy and derision competing for maximum volume, the air trembling with the sound.

Obi-Wan had even less to do; his only task was to stand nearby and hold a bulky golden chain from which dangled an enormous set of keys. But he grinned broadly at the crowd's first reaction to Qui-Gon's appearance. That was also not to his Master's liking.

At the reception afterward, where Qui-Gon was obliged to bow and accept the line of well-wishers with the Archbishop and her family, a bleary-eyed Senator Chochard marched up to Qui-Gon and announced that he looked like a huge smustick before staggering off to drink himself senseless again. But most of the people just grinned up at him, elbowed Nealdine, winked and congratulated her on her future grandchildren. Obi-Wan rattled the keys whenever this happened until Qui-Gon gave him a cross glare.

He had hoped to leave the party after that last duty, but Nealdine demanded that he stay near, just in case she needed him for that, 'shutting up my sister thing.' But Trahina and Vossi made themselves conspicuously absent.

Qui-Gon patiently waited out the celebration until it got dark when Nealdine invited him up to a quiet dinner in a tower room. It turned out to be a very pleasant meal with just him, Obi-Wan, the Archbishop and her Consort in the dimly lit tower room, the lights and sounds of partying coming in through the windows from below. They talked about the Force, the Jedi and the Zembu and the misconceptions people had about each order.

Over a desert of candied nuts, the Bishop leaned forward, her face gray and serious.

"The Prelate of Bzzoff-Kun told me this story. I don't really understand it and the Prelate said that only a Jedi could understand its mystery. So, since you're here, I thought I'd like to try it out on you."

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I will do what I can to help."

"Well." Nealdine gathered her thoughts. "A little green man walks into a bar on Thuradan-Toom. He's very small and slow and nobody notices him. Until he almost gets to the bar when a waiter with a full tray of drinks trips over him. Everything on his tray goes flying and crashes to the ground.

"Well, the little man is a bit startled at first, but he looks around and sees all the drinks and scattered cups about. And you know what? He just tsk, tsks and raises his hand. . . . and suddenly the tray and all the cups fly back up into the air. The drinks stream back into their cups, perfectly mixed again; even the little stirring sticks with the sparkly stars on them are back in their places. The waiter is a bit startled, but he quickly recovers and moves on.

"Two Thuradans at the bar are so impressed by this bit of magic that they offer to buy the old man an ale right on the spot. The little green man nods and the bartender brings the drink, but instead of taking a seat, he hops up onto the stool, then up onto the bar, right next to this enormous mug that is almost as big as he is, and he hops right up on top of it. And he sucks up the whole thing up in one gulp, through his ass.

"Well, these two Thuradans and the bartender are really impressed now. So, they order the little man another drink. And he does the same thing. Slurps it all up in one gulp through his ass. Gives a little burp when he hops off the mug, but otherwise he looks quite fine.

"Now, one of the Thuradans wonders if he does this with other things, too. So, he offers the little man a bowl of chips. And this being a Thuradan bar, you know that those chips have already passed through someone's digestive system at least once. So, since they already came out of someone else's ass it seems perfectly reasonable that he would suck them up that way like the ale.

"But the little green man looks a little offended. He picks up a chip, takes a bite, gives the Thuradan a stern look and says - - -

" 'What? Backwards, you think I am?' "

"Hahahahaha!" The laugh came out of Qui-Gon spontaneously, quite caught off-guard by the sudden ridiculous image of Master Yoda sucking up an ale through his ass and eating Thuradan chips. Next to him, Obi-Wan laughed as well. But the Archbishop looked a little peeved.

"Why would anyone think that joke was funny?" Consort Amitig only shrugged, not understanding the story, either.

The Jedi kept laughing. Qui-Gon wiped at a corner of his eye.

"I don't understand." Nealdine shook her head and sighed. "But you know." She rested her chin in her hand, elbow on the table. "I rather like having you around. Now that I think of it, you might make a very good High Vicar of Wutah."

Qui-Gon stopped smiling. "You know, your Grace, that is impossible. My vows to the Jedi Order take precedence."

"Oh, but it's not so very bad being part of the Zembu Order. And I am the Supreme Archbishop, which means you do have some obligation to me; I can always ask the Jedi Temple to loan you to us for awhile, to help with our transition. And that 'shutting up my sister' thing you've got is very nice indeed."

Qui-Gon did not think that she was really serious. But he did not want to take any chances.

! Hhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Suddenly cleaved in two, an end table by the wall, and the pile of dirty dishes on it, crashed to the ground. Qui-Gon spun his lightsaber around once, the shadows in the room wildly shifting with the flourish of the green blade. He switched it off, clipping it back on the blue-green belt he still wore.

The Archbishop glowered, her cheeks orange. She pointed sternly at him.

"All right, you're out."


###### END ######


Note: This story was first posted on tf.n on 17-Jan-2011

Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.