Alpha & Omega:
II. The Hunted

Angyl

8/8/99

Disclaimer: These two handsome men belong to George Lucas, the events surrounding them are mine. *g*

I've tried everything I can think of, but I have to face the inevitable conclusion that we're going to have to make an emergency landing. The shuttle is losing power quickly. The hyperdrive is badly damaged thanks to the stray asteroid that hit us. We don't have enough power to make it to our destination, let alone back to one of the more regularly traveled space corridors. I've run out of options.

I hold back a sigh as I turn to the imposing man sitting calmly next to me. "Master, I'm afraid I can't repair the damage. We're going to have to make an emergency landing."

I can hear the concern creep into my voice, just slightly. Not enough that if I were with anyone other than Qui-Gon Jinn, they would be able to hear it. But I am with my Master, and he knows me better than anyone. He heard. Of that I am sure.

But Sithspawn, the last thing we need is to be forced down on a backwater planet in the middle of the outer rim. The chances of anyone picking up the distress beacon out here are slim to none. Oh, I'm not worried that we won't be rescued. The Temple knew our basic flight plan; they knew when we left and when we were to arrive at our destination. They also knew that the shuttle was damaged, not destroyed - we were able to tell them that before we ventured out of communications range. It wouldn't be too difficult to extrapolate that we'd needed to set down and then plot our course.

The problem was that there were dozens if not hundreds of planets that we could have set down on. To search them all would take months, if not years. I'd like to be made a Knight before I reach my dotage, thank you very much. That and there's something I'd like to tell Master Qui-Gon. Hells, I'd like to show him, but I want to be a Knight and his equal before I do. After all it wouldn't do for an apprentice to confess his undying lust and love for his Master - and if the feelings aren't returned, I'd like a convenient escape route, like going off on a solo mission, so I can die from embarrassment in private.

I'm pulled from my reveries by a voice a smooth as Alderaanian whiskey. My Master's voice.

"I understand, Padawan; it's only through your abilities that we have managed to make it this far. Most of the planets in this sector are habitable. Choose the closest one and land. Republic relays will pass on our distress signal. We shall be picked up eventually."

I wish I could have his faith in our equipment and our imminent rescue, but I do as he requests. The nav computer turns up a few likely planets -they're probably crawling with smugglers and pirates. People we'd do well to avoid. The best choice appears to be one that has been recently visited by archeologists. I glance over at Master Qui-Gon and see his brow furrow in that sexy way it does when he's trying to protect me. I hate it when he does that but still... it's a nice feeling nonetheless.

He's probably assuming I don't realize the danger we might face. I'm twenty-three, not three. I've been in combat, in war situations. I've been held at blaster point, been interrogated and survived both Master Windu's lightsaber lessons and the deadly staff of Master Yoda. I sigh inwardly and consign myself to waiting another few years before I can show him just how damn grown-up I can be. If he had any idea of the things I wanted him to do to me, I wanted to do to him... This was definitely not the time to lose myself in my rather active fantasies of Qui-Gon the lover. After all, Master might pick up a stray thought ... or notice a more physical side effect.

Forcing myself back to the here and now, I turn to Master Qui-Gon. "Here, Master, the planet of Eira. It is oxygen-rich and has a temperate climate. Everything seems to indicate it will be compatible to all humanoid needs. There has even been some contact made with indigenous tribes by archeologists studying this sector's development. They seem to be friendly, if a bit primitive."

Qui-Gon smiles softly as he examines my choice. Oh, I know he has faith in me and my abilities. I know too that he thinks I'm almost ready to take my Trials. He just has this protective streak in him that spans the galaxy. Always picking up pathetic life forms, my Master. Force above, how I love that - how I love him. I'd never confess to either though. After all, it's so much fun to tease him about it. He get so serious and stern that I sometimes have this overwhelming urge to tickle him till he cracks, so instead I torment him about his strays. And thank the Force for his protective streak, which has saved a certain foolhardy Padawan on more than one occasion.

"Well done, Obi-Wan. Find a place to land near the most recently contacted tribe. We will make contact with them only if necessary," he murmurs calmly, patiently watching as I guide the shuttle to the relative safety of the planet below.

I still can't believe the past month and that I'm the one living this insane adventure. There were natives waiting for us when we landed. Force sensitive natives who spoke Standard and who'd seen our arrival in a vision. We were welcomed as long lost brothers and taken back to their village. We'd been 'adopted' by the village. It's almost funny really. All of a sudden we were the pathetic life forms being picked up and taken care of.

The Triethan have been very kind and generous to us. We've been given the run of the village, treated as members of their extended family and given accommodations of our own. I nearly swallowed my tongue when a few of the young women, and some of the men, started propositioning me. Sex, it seems, is a commonplace thing among the villagers. Generously shared and pleasurably received. When I declined, one young woman asked if my mate were the jealous type. I just stood there, gaping.

These people actually thought Qui-Gon and I were.... Mates! I must have turned every shade of red imaginable as I stammered out a yes; I figured what Qui-Gon didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and I'd be relieved of anymore speculation. The young woman took no offense, batted her eyes coquettishly and said that she could understand well why he would want to keep such a prime example of manhood all to himself. It took me four hours of deep meditation to recover my equilibrium, and by all that the Force holds sacred I am never telling Master Qui-Gon about this incident. I would die of mortification.

He looked at me oddly during dinner and asked what was wrong. Damn it all, why does he have to know me so well?

"It's been a month, Master, and still no sign of rescue. Damn it to the Sith, I'm going mad with waiting," I exclaimed, finding an acceptable excuse for my agitation. Truth was, without Master Qui-Gon here I probably would have gone crazy. His presence soothed and comforted me as it always did.

"Perhaps we should begin training again, Padawan, as well as assisting with the daily life of the village. This would give you something to focus on as well as teach you a lesson in patience. One that you seem to need. This planet is teeming with life, and it is the perfect place for you to learn how to be mindful of the living Force." I groaned silently. He always had a lesson to teach me. Always.

We settled into a routine of sorts. In the afternoons and evenings we would help the villagers in any way we could. We learned much of their way of life. A Jedi is always learning. After all the Code itself says that knowledge is important. Mornings were devoted to training - hard. We always had an audience when Master Qui-Gon and I practiced our katas and our lightsaber drills in the clearing beside the village. This was probably the reason why the tribal elders approached us. They seemed to be impressed with our skills as warriors and needed our advice. It seemed the villagers were being preyed upon by a 'demon'. It would attack indiscriminately, and what was left of the victim was not pleasant. They were ripped to shreds. Yet another attack had taken place that morning; this time it was one of their finest warriors that had been the victim. The matter was now getting out of hand as the village could not afford to lose those that protected it from harm. I felt Qui-Gon's silent question as he looked over at me; nodding imperceptibly, I gave my consent. How could I not? These people needed help, and aiding people was what a Jedi did. Qui-Gon offered our assistance in capturing the creature. The village warriors gratefully accepted. We went hunting.

Together Qui-Gon and I tracked the beast, using the Force to guide us to the so-called demon's lair. We found an animal similar to a tybar, which did not appear to be indigenous to Eira. It was probably left behind by smugglers or pirates or some other spacefaring group, and it had grown up feral. It was now old and sick, preying on those weaker than itself. And it was dying. Painfully. It was being eaten alive by its illness. So Master Qui-Gon and I did the only humane thing possible. We gave it a merciful end. The last thing either of us expected was to be proclaimed heroes or to be inducted as Triethan warriors and members of the tribe.

The Triethan definitely know how to celebrate. The celebrations began the day the demon died and have lasted all week. Tonight they come to a conclusion with Qui-Gon and me being made brothers of the tribe and warriors in our own right. We had to prove over the course of the week our value to the tribe through various displays of skill and prowess. That was the easy part. An important part of the ritual has involved the drinking of a tribal concoction meant to cleanse the spirit. Master Qui-Gon analyzed it and determined it would not kill us, so he felt that we shouldn't insult our hosts by not taking part of this ritual. So we drank the foul tasting concoction each day at dawn and dusk.

The potion seemed to have side effects though. It's been harder and harder to keep my shields up. I find I am picking up stray thoughts and emotions from Qui-Gon. That shouldn't be happening. I'm also finding that my emotions are closer to the surface than ever. Emotions that should be kept buried. My love for Qui-Gon flirts on the edge of my conscious thought, and I find my personality changing. I... Gods above, I want to be owned, claimed ... taken. I want Qui-Gon to mark me, possess me. Make me his in such a way that the vapid villagers get the hint and leave me alone. Yet I also want to mark him, claim him as my mate, my alpha-male, so those bovin-eyed twits realize that he's already taken and the one who has him is just as possessive and jealous. This loss of control troubles me. It's going to lead me into a world of trouble - I can feel it. It has gotten to the point where I need to ask Qui-Gon what to do.

"Master, I'm not sure, but I think that elixir we've been drinking has - affected me." I murmured softly. We are in our hut, preparing for the last night of the ceremonies, the initiation of brotherhood.

"How so, Padawan?" came the calm reply. Master Qui-Gon looked so serene, yet the cracks were beginning to show, just below the surface.

"I can't seem to maintain my shields as easily as I could before we started drinking that stuff. And... and I'm catching stray thoughts and feelings from you." A sharp look and a slight inhalation of breath tell me this troubles him. Is Qui-Gon hiding something from me?

"As am I, Obi-Wan. All we can do is maintain our shields as best we can and wait for the stuff to burn itself out of our bodies. It shouldn't take too long to do so."

I try to seem calm, but Sith - I don't want him to know how I feel just yet - not until I'm a Knight. "Yes, Master." Qui-Gon's eyes darken to a stormy blue, and the look he gives me makes me want to shudder in delicious anticipation. It is so primal, that look. Shielding has never been so difficult as it is right now. Force above, I hope I can maintain them.

My shields are gone - I couldn't stop their collapse. The last cup of that horrific brew scattered them the four winds, but oh the freedom. I have no restrictions on my thoughts; they flow like water through my head, quicksilver and light. Everything is there, on the surface. Thankfully Qui-Gon is the only one who can read my thoughts, and he is avoiding me. A small part of me wants him to see though, wants him to discover what has been preying on my soul for these past two years. Why don't you read my mind, Qui-Gon; what are you afraid of?

The heat of the celebration fire warms me even as it lights the meeting lodge. The ceremonies are over. We are brothers to the tribe. A sudden summer storm rattles the roof and howls at the door but inside the celebration reaches its peak. I feel so carefree, so primitive in my native garb of animal hide breeches and a form-hugging coarse woven shirt, open to my navel. I know I look good; many of the young men and women have been eyeing me as if I were a tasty treat, but the heat that sizzled in Qui-Gon's eyes when he first saw me is the only approval I want. I feel sensual and wanton. It is an almost forbidden delight to be this out of control, this careless.

I glance over at my Master. How tightly he holds on to his control. The heat in his eyes tells another story though - he wants me, he truly wants me. I smile wickedly, tempting him, tempting myself. I know I am taking chances, playing fast and loose, but something inside me goads me on. I don't want my calm, placid Master; I want him wild and uncontrolled. Unburdened by the rules and strictures of our real lives. This is fantasy, make-believe. We are not Jedi here; we are members of the tribe - warriors. I want to play with my warrior.

I am suddenly seized and pulled into the circle of dancers. It is the young woman who first propositioned me those many weeks ago. She smiles saucily at me.

"He is wild for you, you realize? If you keep teasing him like this, you might find yourself mauled," she whispers conspiratorially. I throw my head back in laughter. How did she know that this is what I wanted? "Shall we make it harder for him to resist perhaps?" she continues playfully.

As tempting as the offer is, I gently decline. I need only my Master. Unbidden, the images spring to mind of my last fantasy. Qui-Gon, hard and hot, pinning me to a wall, taking me almost violently. Ooh, how I love that fantasy.

Another one scrolls through my head, the one where I dance for Qui-Gon. Unconsciously I begin to mimic my fantasy, moving and swaying to the beat of the drums. Dancing for my Master, my lover... my mate. My dance becomes explicit, wanton. I move and gyrate to the drumbeats, my hips and pelvis thrusting in a mockery of lovemaking.

I feel his mind brush mind, and my head snaps up. Our eyes lock, and my breath catches. Force above, the heat blazing in your eyes, Qui-Gon! I shiver from their fire.

There is knowledge in his gaze. He knows; he has seen my wants, my needs. He knows how I feel about him - and it doesn't offend him. Lightly I skim his mind and feel the answering heat and need. Gods, such passion and power all concealed behind his Jedi serenity. For me. It's all for me.

But not here, not in a room full of strangers. I have wanted this for so long, so badly, that I refuse to share it. I try to resurrect my shields to hide my intent and break away from the dancing. I need fresh air, rain on my skin... I need Qui-Gon! Follow me, Master, I dare you. Follow and see what you have unleashed.

As I slip by a group of young warriors I have become friendly with, one of them grabs me. Hador. He has been nursing an infatuation over me for two weeks now, and the alcohol in his system has made him bold. Before I can stop him, he is kissing me, thrusting his tongue down my throat. I'm stunned and for a moment do nothing. In my mind I hear the growl of a wild beast. Master - oh no...

Next thing I know, Qui-Gon is dragging me out of Hador's arms and out into the storm. He yanks me across the village and into our hut. The rain has soaked us both through, but the dampness next to my flesh does little to curb my temper. A Jedi does not feel anger - so why am I so enraged that I can literally see red? Isn't this what I wanted? His possession? Of course it is, but it doesn't mean I have to give in so easily, just bend over the table and wait for that final, exhilaratingly terrifying claiming. My blood is hot in my veins, and I have this sudden overwhelming urge to make it difficult for my Qui-Gon.

"What in the hells of the Sith has gotten into you, Qui-Gon?" I grind out, forcing a confrontation. A look of rage and heat springs into Qui-Gon's eyes, the look of a predator scenting his prey. Yes! That is the look I want to see.

"Be careful, Obi-Wan," he warns softly. "Be very careful." He looks wild, feral. His normally tamed hair is wildly tossed; his eyes gleam with a dangerous light. "Don't you understand that you are mine? How dare you let that pup touch you!" Qui-Gon growls, enraged. He is the alpha-male in his full glory. Protective, possessive, controlling. Oh, how delicious he is... but no, I will not give in so easily, my Master, not when I want more... when I want everything. So I let my fury catch light, and it warms my cool body. I crane my neck up, exposing it, and as I had hoped, Qui-Gon's eyes lock on to the exposed flesh. He licks his lips, and his eyes heat my blood to the boiling point. "I know exactly who I belong to, Master Qui-Gon. I belong to myself and to whomever I choose to share myself with. You are my teacher, nothing more - by your own choice!" I snarl in sudden rage. He is so damn sure of himself. The ego, the arrogance to think I will submissively bow to whatever whims he desires me to.

A predatory smile spreads over his face. He seems almost overjoyed by my defiance. I sense a great deal of satisfaction from him and... oh Sith, perhaps this is a game I should not have played. I have forgotten that this is no pitten to be played with; this man before me is a grown and hungry tybar. And I have just dangled the most tantalizing bait in front of him. Before I realize just what is happening I am slammed into the wall behind me, Qui-Gon pushing his massive body into me, rubbing against me. I can feel the thick pole of his erection grind into my stomach. He is so huge! I've seen Qui-Gon naked, but he as always been un-aroused, and I have tried avoid the temptation to look. Now I wish I had paid more attention because this bar of flesh is enormous. And he wants to bury it inside me, that much is very obvious. A cold finger of fear slides down my spine.

My mouth is claimed in a brutal kiss. Qui-Gon ravishes my lips and mouth, scouring it with his tongue and teeth, devouring me. I try to shove him back, away, even as I try to breathe, but Qui-Gon has me overpowered and pinned to the wall. I moan, part ecstasy part fear, as I let myself go limp in his embrace. I hear his animal-like groans of pleasure as I do so. It is an old trick, feigning surrender, but one I hope he falls for. I have to get away, regroup. I am being swallowed whole, sucked into the maelstrom that is Qui-Gon Jinn.

He releases his adamantine grip on me. It is all I need. Using a combination of the Force and my own strength, I shove against him, send him staggering back, and bolt for the door. I need to put some distance between us, and fast. Using Jedi enhanced speed, I retreat into the storm-tossed blackness of the night. As Master Windu once told me, sometimes discretion is the better part of valor.

I feel the predatory joy that engulfs Qui-Gon through our bond. He is following, tracking me. I feel his shadowy image stalk after me into the night, his mind casting about in the dark to find me. I try to re-assemble my destroyed shields, try to make myself a ghost in the night. But I sense him.

I am hunted.

End.

  since 02-17-07

 

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