Title: Les Mis (The Miserables)
Person responsible: Jodie (Padawan of the Anonymous Torture Fic Writer)
Summery: What if Qui-Gon hadn't taken Obi-Wan as his padawan all those years ago? Set during TPM, Qui-Gon goes to Mos Espa to find spare parts, but finds someone he didn't expect to.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None, if any, very minor.
Warnings: Character angst, beating, torture, and/or death. (I know, I have a problem!)
Declaimer: yada yada, Gorge Lucas bla bla I don't own Obi or any of the other charters. (Sniff, need hankie) The Title is from a novel by Victor Hugo. The title is the only reference from the novel, but I thought the title fitting.
Chapter One: The Slave
"I need parts for a J-type 3-2-7 Nubian." Qui-Gon answered the blue, flying junk dealer.
"Ah yes, Nubian. We have lots of that." The gruff voice answered. He yelled something over his shoulder, and a small boy came in. Watto scolded him and took the Jedi out to the sandy yard.
"Are you an Angel?" An unexpected said after the Jedi and Toydarian left.
"What?" The handmaiden asked.
"An Angel." (Can't you just feel the chemistry?!)
~*~
"A T-14 hyperdrive generator? You're in luck, I'm the only one here-abouts who has one" The Toydarian said, "But you might as well buy a new ship. It would be cheaper I think." He tittered faintly, " Saying which, hows you gonna pay for all this?" Watto asked tightly.
"I have 20,000 Republic credits." Qui-Gon answered.
"Republic credits? Republic credits are no good out here I need something more real." Watto scrunch a fist make a point.
"I don't have anything else," Qui-Gon raised his hand, "but credits will do fine."
"No they won't." The stubbren creature said.
"Credits will do fine." Qui-Gon tried again, confused about the creature's mind, the trick should have worked.
"No, they won't. What do think you're some kind of Jedi, waving you're hand around like that?-"
Suddenly there was a small crash, Watto told the Jedi stay there and flew off behind some piles of medal.
There was gruff shouting in the planets native dialect, and Qui-Gon turned to look at what was happening.
He saw Watto reprimanding a young man. He had apparently been taken aback by something and dropped what he was working on, it breaking on the impacted of the ground.
He was young, in his early or mid twenties. His hair was a ginger color and shaggy, he wore a roughly spun tunic, and his eyes...a bluely green color. The Jedi Master knew them.
After a final, and callous excoriate Watto flew back and apologized slightly to Qui-Gon and the young human in the background began to pick up the pieces of the ruined contraption. Qui-Gon then noticed for the first time and row of shiny dots on the other human's face, there where four or five of them, they were small, like a line of birthmarks. But they were too erect for that and they were made of some sort of alloy, almost like a strait line of dots medal on his face.
"Dose that slave interest you?" the junk dealer asked, "I would offer him to you, but I don't think you're in the position to buy right now." He laughed ambiguously.
"What is his name?" Qui-Gon asked snubbing the blue flyer's analysis.
"Obi-Wan." Came the gruff reply.
TBC
Evil Cliffy! There will be more of them, get used to it!
~ Laughs wickedly ~
Person responsible: Jodie (Padawan of the Anonymous Torture Fic Writer)
Summery: What if Qui-Gon hadn't taken Obi-Wan as his padawan all those years ago? Set during TPM, Qui-Gon goes to Mos Espa to find spare parts, but finds someone he didn't expect to.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None, if any, very minor.
Warnings: Character angst, beating, torture, and/or death. (I know, I have a problem!)
Declaimer: yada yada, Gorge Lucas bla bla I don't own Obi or any of the other charters. (Sniff, need hankie) The Title is from a novel by Victor Hugo. The title is the only reference from the novel, but I thought the title fitting.
Chapter One: The Slave
"I need parts for a J-type 3-2-7 Nubian." Qui-Gon answered the blue, flying junk dealer.
"Ah yes, Nubian. We have lots of that." The gruff voice answered. He yelled something over his shoulder, and a small boy came in. Watto scolded him and took the Jedi out to the sandy yard.
"Are you an Angel?" An unexpected said after the Jedi and Toydarian left.
"What?" The handmaiden asked.
"An Angel." (Can't you just feel the chemistry?!)
~*~
"A T-14 hyperdrive generator? You're in luck, I'm the only one here-abouts who has one" The Toydarian said, "But you might as well buy a new ship. It would be cheaper I think." He tittered faintly, " Saying which, hows you gonna pay for all this?" Watto asked tightly.
"I have 20,000 Republic credits." Qui-Gon answered.
"Republic credits? Republic credits are no good out here I need something more real." Watto scrunch a fist make a point.
"I don't have anything else," Qui-Gon raised his hand, "but credits will do fine."
"No they won't." The stubbren creature said.
"Credits will do fine." Qui-Gon tried again, confused about the creature's mind, the trick should have worked.
"No, they won't. What do think you're some kind of Jedi, waving you're hand around like that?-"
Suddenly there was a small crash, Watto told the Jedi stay there and flew off behind some piles of medal.
There was gruff shouting in the planets native dialect, and Qui-Gon turned to look at what was happening.
He saw Watto reprimanding a young man. He had apparently been taken aback by something and dropped what he was working on, it breaking on the impacted of the ground.
He was young, in his early or mid twenties. His hair was a ginger color and shaggy, he wore a roughly spun tunic, and his eyes...a bluely green color. The Jedi Master knew them.
After a final, and callous excoriate Watto flew back and apologized slightly to Qui-Gon and the young human in the background began to pick up the pieces of the ruined contraption. Qui-Gon then noticed for the first time and row of shiny dots on the other human's face, there where four or five of them, they were small, like a line of birthmarks. But they were too erect for that and they were made of some sort of alloy, almost like a strait line of dots medal on his face.
"Dose that slave interest you?" the junk dealer asked, "I would offer him to you, but I don't think you're in the position to buy right now." He laughed ambiguously.
"What is his name?" Qui-Gon asked snubbing the blue flyer's analysis.
"Obi-Wan." Came the gruff reply.
TBC
Evil Cliffy! There will be more of them, get used to it!
~ Laughs wickedly ~