Post by Ani-Chay Pinn on Jun 26, 2005 13:10:41 GMT -5
FOOD FOR THOUGHT
by Anne Davenport
There were many ways that Obi-Wan Kenobi wished to emulate his master. Many ways, save one.
Nearby, Qui-Gon Jinn finished his bed of dried grasses and twigs. The rocks they hid in would retain the heat of day very well throughout the chilly night, and helped conceal their life signs, but they were a bit hard to sleep on. The Jedi master paused, pushing his long hair back over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the sky. Obi-Wan sensed nothing, but he closed his eyes, reaching out to the Force. Air, fragrant with the sweet flowers on the plain. Dry plants rustling in the light breeze. A few slow, hovering insects. But otherwise, nothing. It wasn’t even going to rain. The Paugit patrols obviously didn’t know they’d survived. They presumably expected that the ravenous, swarming reptiles of this world would take care of their “Jedi interference” problem. But while they could strip a large animal to its bones or shell in minutes, they really weren’t very smart. Even as a swarm, the bosh-lizards were fairly easy to discourage with the Force.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Qui-Gon brushed off his hands and a bit of reddish straw from the sleeves of his dark robe and moved away, over to behind a boulder and a tall, leafy yellow bush. Obi-Wan’s chosen spot was on the opposite side of their campsite under clumps of hanging vines and another, much smaller, yellow bush.
They were well concealed in the shadows of the hills, especially in the increasing twilight. This planet had no moon and interstellar dust obscured the galactic sky usually visible from Core worlds. The night would be very dark, just like the last two. The yellow and blue lights of the small, haphazard Paugit outpost shone in the distance, alone in the growing dark. They couldn’t possibly sneak up on it across the grassy, but empty plain. But they’d found traces of where the Paugit transports passed. Just below where they were hiding. It was just a matter of waiting for the best prospect to go by. They would either attack and displace the crew or attach themselves to it and gain entry to the outpost that way.
In the meantime, they had set up the most minimal camp. No light, no fire, only one place to sleep while the other kept watch. They’d had only the survival equipment from their belts, their clothes and robes when they’d escaped their crashed ship, shot down by the Paugit. Obi-Wan sat down on a smooth, raised rock. He would take the first watch. He frowned down at the opened food capsule he held. They had been sharing rations for their days of travel to reach the outpost. His master had taken one from his belt, poured half out for himself and given the rest of his padawan. And they’d both taken the thin, folded bags from their belt pouches and filled them from a cool spring that Obi-Wan had found late that afternoon. Though the overall climate was dry, it was far from desolate and springs of fresh water were easily found, especially for Jedi. A single purification pellet mixed into one bag of water made it drinkable, though metallic to the taste. The rations had only a faint, savory taste and almost no scent. They were minimal, meant to offend no one while fulfilling the Jedi’s nutritional needs. And when one was stranded on a hostile planet for days they were even a welcome repast.
Qui-Gon emerged from his boulder and bush. Standing in the deeper shadows, Qui-Gon’s expression was thoughtful as he looked away toward the outpost lights. He took a small, flat tool from one of his belt pouches. And began combing his beard and then his long hair with it. Obi-Wan sighed.
There were plenty of exceptions, but it seemed that once a Jedi attained the rank of knight and then master, they would often let their hair grow long. If they had hair. Qui-Gon Jinn had lots of hair. Long, brown hair, now with only a trace of gray, that he normally kept tied back from his face. But he still had to comb it, untangle it, wash it, trim it.
Even in the dimming light, Obi-Wan could see the thin filament poking out through the pellets in his food capsule. The other end of it snaked out, hanging over the side. Obi-Wan carefully poured the pellets out into the palm of his other hand and separated his master’s errant hair from his dinner.
No, when he attained the rank of Jedi knight, he would not let his hair grow that long.
-- end --
by Anne Davenport
There were many ways that Obi-Wan Kenobi wished to emulate his master. Many ways, save one.
Nearby, Qui-Gon Jinn finished his bed of dried grasses and twigs. The rocks they hid in would retain the heat of day very well throughout the chilly night, and helped conceal their life signs, but they were a bit hard to sleep on. The Jedi master paused, pushing his long hair back over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the sky. Obi-Wan sensed nothing, but he closed his eyes, reaching out to the Force. Air, fragrant with the sweet flowers on the plain. Dry plants rustling in the light breeze. A few slow, hovering insects. But otherwise, nothing. It wasn’t even going to rain. The Paugit patrols obviously didn’t know they’d survived. They presumably expected that the ravenous, swarming reptiles of this world would take care of their “Jedi interference” problem. But while they could strip a large animal to its bones or shell in minutes, they really weren’t very smart. Even as a swarm, the bosh-lizards were fairly easy to discourage with the Force.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes. Qui-Gon brushed off his hands and a bit of reddish straw from the sleeves of his dark robe and moved away, over to behind a boulder and a tall, leafy yellow bush. Obi-Wan’s chosen spot was on the opposite side of their campsite under clumps of hanging vines and another, much smaller, yellow bush.
They were well concealed in the shadows of the hills, especially in the increasing twilight. This planet had no moon and interstellar dust obscured the galactic sky usually visible from Core worlds. The night would be very dark, just like the last two. The yellow and blue lights of the small, haphazard Paugit outpost shone in the distance, alone in the growing dark. They couldn’t possibly sneak up on it across the grassy, but empty plain. But they’d found traces of where the Paugit transports passed. Just below where they were hiding. It was just a matter of waiting for the best prospect to go by. They would either attack and displace the crew or attach themselves to it and gain entry to the outpost that way.
In the meantime, they had set up the most minimal camp. No light, no fire, only one place to sleep while the other kept watch. They’d had only the survival equipment from their belts, their clothes and robes when they’d escaped their crashed ship, shot down by the Paugit. Obi-Wan sat down on a smooth, raised rock. He would take the first watch. He frowned down at the opened food capsule he held. They had been sharing rations for their days of travel to reach the outpost. His master had taken one from his belt, poured half out for himself and given the rest of his padawan. And they’d both taken the thin, folded bags from their belt pouches and filled them from a cool spring that Obi-Wan had found late that afternoon. Though the overall climate was dry, it was far from desolate and springs of fresh water were easily found, especially for Jedi. A single purification pellet mixed into one bag of water made it drinkable, though metallic to the taste. The rations had only a faint, savory taste and almost no scent. They were minimal, meant to offend no one while fulfilling the Jedi’s nutritional needs. And when one was stranded on a hostile planet for days they were even a welcome repast.
Qui-Gon emerged from his boulder and bush. Standing in the deeper shadows, Qui-Gon’s expression was thoughtful as he looked away toward the outpost lights. He took a small, flat tool from one of his belt pouches. And began combing his beard and then his long hair with it. Obi-Wan sighed.
There were plenty of exceptions, but it seemed that once a Jedi attained the rank of knight and then master, they would often let their hair grow long. If they had hair. Qui-Gon Jinn had lots of hair. Long, brown hair, now with only a trace of gray, that he normally kept tied back from his face. But he still had to comb it, untangle it, wash it, trim it.
Even in the dimming light, Obi-Wan could see the thin filament poking out through the pellets in his food capsule. The other end of it snaked out, hanging over the side. Obi-Wan carefully poured the pellets out into the palm of his other hand and separated his master’s errant hair from his dinner.
No, when he attained the rank of Jedi knight, he would not let his hair grow that long.
-- end --
