The JediMaster

It was a dark and stormy planet.

Obi-Wan stumbled and caught himself against something rough and wet. The rain made it difficult to make out anything about his surroundings, with the exception of the tree he was now flattened against.

"Master?" he called out, though the wind caught his words and whipped them away before he could even hear himself. He started to shout again, but he knew Qui-Gon wasn't there.

Whatever it was he'd stumbled across down in the fourth lowest basement at the Jedi Temple, it hadn't been a bookshelf. It had looked like a bookshelf. It had even had books piled on it so it had been acting like a bookshelf. But bookshelves usually didn't transport a person to another planet.

He knew it was another planet because Corusant hadn't had trees, rain, or mud, in centuries. Obi-Wan pulled his cloak around him and ducked against the tree trunk for what little shelter it could provide. He'd try to wait out the storm before finding out what had happened.

Fifteen minutes later, cold, wet, and wishing he had better learned how to use the Force as an umbrella, Obi-Wan found the rain had stopped. Tossing his hood back, he stood and looked around. It looked like a rain-drenched forest. The sun broke out suddenly, and he gasped.

He recognised every single plant here. Was he in one of Corusant's nature preserves, then? If so, he should have felt his Master's presence, even if he had been sent half-way to the other side of the planet. But he didn't feel anything.

Obi-Wan reached out again to make sure, and found no sign of his Master at all.

He shivered, and tried not to think about what that might mean. Instead, he looked around the spot he'd appeared in, looking for any explanation for what had happened. All he found was a black ring, as if the ground had been scorched. Very carefully he used the Force to examine it. It felt strange, as if it were not entirely solid. He pushed, and felt it give slightly. When he pushed harder, it held fast, however.

"That's odd," he muttered, and tried again, using finesse instead of strength.

It didn't budge.

He worked at it for nearly half an hour and got nowhere. Obi-Wan sat back on his heels, and sighed. He'd have to start out on foot, then, and find the park rangers. Pulling the soaking cloak around him, Obi-Wan started off. When he got home he was going to demonstrate a very un-detached appreciation for a warm bath and dry clothes.

He'd taken three steps when he realised he couldn't be in a park because it never stormed in the climate-controlled preserves. The plants were watered with irrigation systems, and there was never any wind because the parks were walled in.

So where was he?

He couldn't answer that question here, in the middle of wherever he was. Obi-Wan turned around and concentrated on the spot he'd arrived at -- committing the place to memory, tagging it mentally with a little Force-beacon that he could find later, then headed off to find... anything. Someplace dry.

Obi-Wan let the Force guide him, picking his way through underbrush and low-hanging tree-branches, and being very glad his boots were sturdy and waterproof. He was startled when he realised that someone was tracking him -- someone using the Force, and someone friendly.

That someone was walking towards him. Obi-Wan stopped and waited.

The newcomer, an older woman dressed very simply in a short vest and belted leather skirt, smiled as she saw him. "Greetings, traveler," she called out, still heading for him. Obi-Wan noticed that she was not soaking wet, and hoped that boded well for there being shelter nearby.

Then his brain told him he had automatically translated her words from the ancient language of the Jedi.

Obi-Wan leaned against a tree.

"Greetings," he replied as she came closer. She frowned, and Obi-Wan wondered if he'd already managed to offend her, but she just stepped up to him.

"Are you well?" she asked.

"I.. think so...." Obi-Wan said, pushing himself upright again and trying to center himself. Plants that hadn't existed on Coruscant for centuries, a language that hadn't been used for centuries....

And a bookshelf that the children told stories about, giggling at night about the "haunted" part of the store room that no one ever went into anymore because things sometimes appeared and disappeared without a trace.

He wondered why his master had sent him down there for that obscure book, and decided to bloody well ask him. In about ten thousand years, give or take a millenium.

"My name is Cale. Our temple is near; please come." She smiled again and indicated a path back the way she'd come. Obi-Wan followed, trying to put some order to the dozens of questions he had.

He knew, above all, he could not do anything that would change things. He couldn't tell them anything of the future, of the Jedi... hell, even of the Force. So much had been learned in the past few thousand years... Obi-Wan tried to recall his history lessons. When had they learned what?

He rubbed his head. First, find out when you are, he told himself. Then worry about it.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Cale asked again, glancing back.

"Yes. I've just... the trip took more out of me than I'd thought it would."

She smiled. "The journey to the Temple is a trying one, for many. I am pleased that you have come; the others will be equally pleased. We are so few, and that you -- one who is so strong in the Force -- should choose to join our Order, is a blessing indeed."

They continued in silence, though it wasn't long before Obi-Wan saw a large, stone temple through the trees. He recognised it instantly. The second Jedi Temple. It was surrounded immediately by a cleared courtyard, lined with a shin-high stone wall. Beyond that wall was roughly twenty yards' worth of cleared land, then nothing but forest. Behind the Temple Obi-Wan could see signs of agriculture.

The Temple itself was sparsely decorated with a few carvings in the stone, including the runes depicting the name of "Jedi" above the high doors. The first temple had been even less detailed, and had been smaller and without a cultivated courtyard. It had been destroyed about a hundred years after it had been built by the storms on the untamed Corusant. The third Temple hadn't been built for nearly two thousand years after the second was built.

That told him very little about when he was, now, other than it wasn't the first century of the Jedi Order or after the twenty-first. Compared to 10,000 years it narrowed things down, but from his own perspective it was still quite a bit of time. He saw other Jedi outside the Temple; as they came closer they began assembling into a group. Cale stopped, looked at him, and held out a hand. "Welcome to the Temple, Master."

He didn't blink. Master? His hand started to drift upwards, towards his Padawan's braid. He'd not even be a Knight for at least two years. It was on his tongue to correct her -- he hadn't done anything, after all, to deserve the title. But he nodded. The traditions he followed they knew nothing about. And, strong and trained in the Force as he was, he would no doubt be as a Master, here. "I am Obi. I am...." He stopped, and grinned in genuine astonishment. "This is extraordinary!"

The gathered Jedi laughed. They came forward and introduced themselves one at a time. Obi-Wan did his best to learn their names, but mostly what he discovered was just strong each was with the Force. Some were strong as he. Most were much less.

None were stronger. None felt as powerful in the Force as his Master, or any of the other Jedi Masters he knew. It was an odd way to get a promotion, he thought, as they led him inside. If you can't be the strongest fish in your pool, move to a smaller pool.

One of the Jedi led him through the Temple towards a room. "This will be yours, during your stay with us. Suria is bringing some clothes."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan told him, stepping into the room. It was sparsely furnished, a cot and a small table and a window high in the wall. It wasn't any worse than a hundred other rooms he'd been quartered in. There were few amenities, but it was clean and dry, and there was a bed. He really didn't need much else.

His examination of the room was interrupted by Suria's arrival. The young boy, about 14 or 15 Obi-Wan guessed, was holding a bundle in his arms. A small bundle.

Obi-Wan suddenly flashed on what every other male Jedi had been wearing and realised what he was being given. He had to admit the outfit would prevent having constantly soaked clothing from to the daily rainfall. And warm as it was, he certainly didn't need to be covered from head to toe.

He accepted the offered clothing graciously and began to remove his own. Suria assisted him, taking each dripping-wet item and folding it carefully. "These will be cleaned, Master Obi, and returned on the morrow."

Obi-Wan bit his tongue against telling the boy not to call him Master. The thing of it was, at this point in the Jedi history he was a Master. His knowledge and skills were as much, and a bit more, than any here could hope to achieve.

When Suria had all his clothing taken away, Obi-Wan picked up the belt he'd been given. It was a belt, for all that there were strips of leather hanging from it, and a loop from which to hang a scabbard. He put it on and looked down at himself. It was certainly... certainly. He moved his hips and watched the leather strips sway back and forth. The stone floor was cool beneath his bare feet and he considered retrieving his boots. But another rolled bundle turned out to be soft leather moccasins. He put them on. Suria had brought nothing else.

He grinned at himself, then tried to regain what should pass for proper Jedi composure. It was difficult to do with everything hanging free. But a Jedi persevered under all circumstances. His Master had taught him that.

His Master had never anticipated him wearing anything like this.

And if he had....

Obi-Wan picked up his own belt, coiled it up, and placed it inside the pouch he'd been given. He left his lightsaber on top, hidden but within reach. He wouldn't be able to use it without lengthy and dangerous explanations, but in an emergency he preferred explanations.

When he was as fully dressed as he could hope to be, he left his room and went in search of answers. He found Suria in the hallway, heading towards him. Obi-Wan smiled. "Just the person I was looking for!"

Suria returned the smile and walked up. "What can I do for you, Master Obi?"

"I'd like to visit your library." The best and safest way to get the answers he needed.

"Of course! It's this way." The boy gestured, and they headed off together. The hallways were all the same dark orange-brown color. Local stone, Obi knew, cut into huge pieces and placed end to end. The stone absorbed heat to a degree, and held it in slightly. This would make it more comfortable at night when the temperature fell. The wide, open courtyards would be where the Jedi gathered during the day, studying, practising, and learning to understand the Force.

Obi-Wan didn't know if it were summer, but the heat in the hallway was significantly higher than it had been outside. He was briefly grateful not to be dressed in his full robes.

Even if he did feel somewhat self-conscious. He knew he didn't have to be -- Suria was dressed the same, and Obi-Wan himself had worn all sorts of costumes during his training, visiting planets and people which demanded they attire themselves "appropriately".

There had even been the time when "appropriately" had meant nothing at all. He remembered that mission rather fondly. Obi-Wan turned his attention back to his guide. "How long have you been studying?" he asked.

They talked along the way, and Obi-Wan gained a better understanding of just when he was likely to be. Suria had named various levels he'd acheived, others he hoped to acheive this year. It didn't help him pinpoint the year, but it narrowed things down to a couple centuries, possibly five or six centuries after the formation of the Jedi Order.

Of course, he still didn't know how knowing when he was would help him return home. But it would be a first step.

Suria took him into a large room lined with shelves. Obi-Wan blinked. Old-fashioned readers -- well, of course. Each hand-held reader contained a single set of books loaded into its memory. He could not simply sit down at a central terminal and search for everything he wanted.

Suria began a brief tour of the library, explaining where topics were stored. Obi-Wan nodded, then soon enough Suria was asking him if there was anything else he could do.

"No, Suria, thank you. I shall be able to find my way easily enough, now."

The boy nodded. "If you need anything, the callbell is there by the desk." He pointed. Again, an ancient device -- Obi-Wan told himself he was wasting time noting that anything was 'ancient'. Suria took his leave, then, and Obi-Wan looked at the shelves.

History, first, then he'd move on from there.


Ten minutes later he knew the exact year. As he'd suspected, it didn't help. He continued reading, however, searching now for references to the strange patch of ground he'd arrived at, and the children's stories about the "haunted" basement. The day passed quickly, and he was startled when someone approached the table where he'd been sitting.

"Master Obi?"

He looked up at the woman. He didn't recall her name, though she'd introduced herself earlier. "Yes?"

"Evening meal is going to be served, soon. I thought you might need a guide." Her smile said she'd also suspected he'd need reminding to leave the books to eat.

He grinned. "Thank you." He marked the spot where he'd been reading, and set the reader aside, heading out to dinner.

The mess hall was, surprisingly enough, much like the one he was used to. Long tables with Jedi segregated by age, training, and choice gathered around them. The noise of conversation rose into the high ceiling, swallowed only partially by the thick walls. Everyone seemed happy, relaxed, and... someting Obi-Wan coulnd't put his finger on.

If he closed his eyes, it would feel almost like the Temple dining hall back home. Almost.

That was the difference he felt. The Force fairly vibrated here, through the Jedi, through the Temple, just as it did in his own time. But it also pulsed with life from outside, with a quality much different than that he knew. The Corusant he knew pulsed with the busy lives of billions of people of all species. People, droids, ships, communications -- everything with a vibrant presence in the Force.

Here everything was still wild. Untouched by sentient hands, the planet grew as it wished, unyoked and unsullied. Species of animals and plants long gone from all but history books and labs filled the world with their presence.

And, somehow, it made the Temple feel more alive.

Obi-Wan followed the woman to a table and sat down, exchanging greetings with the other Jedi there. Most were older, no doubt other Masters. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh at his own Master's reaction to hearing of Obi-Wan's status. He would smile, and make some soft joke, then ask a thousand questions.....

Obi-Wan blinked back a surge of worry. If he made it back to tell his Master anything.

A plate was set before him, and Obi-Wan focused on his meal.


After meals, there were communal activities. Sparring, debating, lectures: everyone gathered in the huge auditorium-styled room and created what seemed like impromptu groups. Obi-Wan sat and listened to an elderly man deliver a lecture on the purpose of the Force. He kept silent, eerie though it was to hear phrases being spoken which he'd studied as a small child. There were plenty of other phrases which he'd never heard, which the Jedi of his day believed utter nonsense. In both cases, he simply listened, quietly and attentively.

Afterwards, Obi-Wan returned to his room to meditate. He had no idea what he was going to do, how he was getting home. But, as he cast his mind away, letting his thoughts fall silent and his being show itself one with the Force, he lost his worry.

The next morning he rose early, performed some stretches and warm-ups in the privacy of his room. The outfit he'd been given made it oddly easy to move. So used to throwing down his cloak and shifting his arms in the lengths of his sleeves as he fought or trained, it was like practising totally naked. He considered suggesting to the Council that they adopt the uniform again, and laughed at the imagined expressions on the Councilmembers' faces.

After breakfast in the dining hall, he returned to the library.


Two weeks later, he was still reading books. His routine was established -- mornings and afternoons in the library with breaks only for meals. Evenings were spent in the common room with the others, listening and watching to everything. He was careful not to speak of his own thoughts on the subjects discussed.

Even when he was fairly sure it would be nothing new, he could not be certain he would not influence something. One word, one thought spoken, and someone might start thinking along otherwise unconsidered lines. An new idea could lead to any kind of imagined or unimagined change. Obi-Wan could not risk changing his future, so he kept his silence.

No one seemed to find his behaviour odd. Apparently it was common for Jedi to sequester themselves in the library, reading for days or weeks on end. When someone brought in a book they'd borrowed, they first asked Obi-Wan if it should be re-filed, or if he preferred it be added to a short stack on the table, so as not to make him miss a book in his systematic study.

Obi-Wan found much of what he read boring or unhelpful, and set aside many of the books. But some were fascinating. Texts he'd never seen before, studies long lost to the Jedi -- whether deliberate or not, he didn't know. There were several things he would have to talk to his Master about, or possibly Master Yoda.

But still he read. Book after book, looking for any clues to help him find a way home. He considered returning to the spot he'd arrived at and studying it further. But he'd done so upon his arrival, as thoroughly as he could with no help or instruments. Neither was likely to be had, here -- not without reveling who he was.

So he studied. Listened, watched, and read.

Days passed, and he began spending part of his mornings in the courtyards. Sometimes he observed the younger Jedi's training, sometimes he joined in on the simpler katas. Most of the ones he knew were more refined and more complex, requiring more and subtler control of the Force. But the simplest exercises were barely changed. When he joined them, he drew no comment other than his skill.

He also began spending time in the afternoons working. He'd realised during a midday meal that every member of the Temple had been taking turns serving, and clearing. It was obvious, once he noticed, that all the Temple's chores were shared.

He'd asked how he could help, and he'd been added to the daily rotation with little more comment than gratitude. He'd been told that his studies were as important as the work -- the purpose of the Temple was to learn, after all. They knew that he might discover or deduce something which could benefit them all. He'd felt guilty at that, knowing he could share nothing he learned, and quietly added the chores to his daily routine.

The days grew cooler as autumn grew near. The hallways and rooms were cool in the first hour of morning, though still warming quickly as the sun rose. Obi-Wan thought of what he knew of Corusant's natural winter, and knew there would be no need to make preparations. Less rain, and shorter days were essentially it.

It meant he wouldn't be getting rid of this outfit anytime soon. It was, he supposed, just as well he was getting used to it.


It was almost exactly two months after he'd arrived when Obi-Wan found the text he'd been hoping for. It described the natural places on Corusant found to be strong with the Force. There had been other chapters describing the phenomenon on other planets, including the one on Dagobah. This one was more recent, and contained a brief passage on a spot suspected to have a strange connection.

The passage was brief, but long enough to tell him he'd found it. People, animals, objects, sometimes disappeared in this area, it said. They rarely returned, and when they did - and were sentient to explain - they spoke of alien landscapes and frigthening visions.

The author did not suspect the connection was to other times, but Obi-Wan didn't care. What it did say was that there was a way to predict these transportations in order to avoid them.

Or, for Obi-Wan, to use them.

He read and re-read the passage, checking other references and making sure he understood. It came down to timing. Corusant, the object to transfer, and various other celestial objects like the stars and nearby planets, had to be in exactly the right position. The Force would then somehow align itself throughout time, and by stepping into the spot, you could travel.

Or so said the book. So Obi-Wan hoped. The event would happen in one week's time, then not again until the following summer. If he failed the first time he would have plenty of time to study further -- if he missed the second, he would have even more. The next 'alignment' wouldn't happen for another year, then another two. Nothing unbearable, but all in all he hoped for the best.

When the day came, he'd said nothing to the others. If all went well they'd never know they'd had something unusual in their midst. He didn't tell them he wouldn't be back -- in case he was. He didn't tell anyone he would be, either, in case he wasn't. Perhaps he'd just add to the long-lived tradition of Mysterious Jedi. He grinned, and went to gather his robes.

His lightsaber was still in the pouch he wore, at his side at all times. His robes and boots had been left in a box, until now. No one had touched them since Suria had returned them that first morning here. Obi-Wan smiled. Soon, hopefully, he would don them again, and return home.

His thoughts were interrupted by a disturbance, harsh and sudden. He dropped the clothing and ran out of his room. Outside he found Jedi gathering, facing a small group of strangers dressed in dark tunics and breeches, and heavy, black boots. Obi-Wan recognised their Force signature immediately, though he had never encountered their like before. Sith.

His hand strayed to his lightsaber, but he did not draw it. The dark visitors would have no such weapons, so none would be needed to defend. Obi-Wan made his way forward, past several other Jedi. Lightsaber or no, he was among those best qualified to fight.

Murkin, the Temple's unofficial leader, was speaking to the visitors. "You know your kind are not allowed on holy ground," he said in a tight, but not quite angry, voice.

The man in the front looked surprised, but Obi-Wan felt only satisfaction from him. "Not allowed? How can a Temple refuse visitors?"

"Because we are not an open order," Murkin replied. "We accept only those visitors who wish to learn -- not destroy."

"Destroy? Are you accusing us of nefarious purpose?" The man's eyes narrowed. Obi-Wan dropped his hand to his pouch again, and held it still. Bare-handed combat, or fighting with staves, was all they learned, here.

And the occasional cooking pot, he noticed two of the Jedi had thus armed themselves. Obi-Wan could feel everyone behind and beside him readying themselves. There was no overlying sensation of calm, as when he fought at his Master's side. These Jedi were excited, adrenaline rising as they anticipated the fight.

The Sith were as well. No forced control, but wildly coursing hatred and eagerness. Bloodlust, he realised. They had come for only one thing -- to destroy the Temple.

Obi-Wan recalled his history, and knew they would fail. He wondered if he should tell them. He, himself, reached a state of calm almost without thought. His reflexes sharper without conscious will, he waited, ready.

"I am telling you, you are not welcome here." Murkin faced the other man squarely.

"And if we do not wish to leave?"

"We will escort you to your ship -- or to pyres."

That seemed to be all they were waiting for. The Sith, as one, spread out and faced the Jedi, pulling edged weapons from their sleeves and belts. Obi-Wan recongised most of the swords and knives, catalouging the threats automatically according to their danger.

Several of the Jedi had staves in their hands now, the older and better fighters easing ahead of the others, the youngest and least able falling back to the very rear. It was, Obi-Wan noted, very well rehearsed. As if done before a dozen times over, these same people, these same circumstances. The lack of alarm, too, suggested that these Jedi were familiar with such intrusions. It was surprising to Obi-Wan, for whom the Sith were little more than legend.

But he waited calmly, watching both the Sith directly opposite him, and those down the line. It occured to him that if he did not use his lightsaber, he had no weapon to deflect the short sword the Sith was waving in his direction.

Bare hands, then, and he'd see how sharp his reflexes really were.

The Sith Leader gathered himself, reaching out to the Force. Obi-Wan felt it, clearly as sunshine. He kept his eyes on his own opponent, and when the Sith moved, he did as well.

They met in the middle of the distance that had seperated them. Sword flashing, Obi-Wan ducked beneath it and grabbed the arm which held it. Snapping it down, he pushed the Sith aside. The Sith to his immediate right was about to slice through the Jedi facing him; Obi-Wan moved in and, with a kick, swept the Sith's legs out from under him. He went sprawling, and the woman sprang forward, barely taking time to nod her thanks to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan returned to his opponent, who was getting to his feet. One more quick move and the Sith's knee was broken. Unable to stand, he could barely defend against the blow which sent him unconscious. Obi-Wan was already past, pulling back a Sith from another Jedi, holding him back with hands and the Force as the Jedi dealt a blow of his own.

As the battle moved on, Obi-Wan lost all conscious thought. Reacting as the Force directed, he moved from Sith to Sith, aiding, hindering, killing as each moment demanded. The other Jedi he passed fought steadily, their own winning strikes landing one after another.

Sometimes a Jedi fell, but much less often. Obi-Wan felt no deaths among the life-forces he had grown attuned with, though he gave it no thought at the time.

Then suddenly, he stood still. The only ones standing were Jedi. Obi-Wan took a deep, steadying breath.

They'd won.

He looked at Murkin, even as he reached out with the Force. Not even wounds so grevious they would need great care to heal. And, further out, no more Sith approaching. None that he could feel, of course. Sith were so hard to detect from any distance at all until you found yourself facing them.

Murkin was already surveying the scene and directing some to aid the wounded, others to restrain the Sith still living. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to ask what he could do, when Murkin turned to him with something Obi-Wan found disturbing glowing in his eyes.

"You fought... like that I have never seen, Master Obi."

Oh, shit, Obi-Wan thought.

"Where did you learn your skills?"

He tried to think of a way to say he could not answer. Or a way to answer, without telling the truth.

Then he realised he was late. "Master Murkin, please say nothing of what you've seen. Do not record it, do not pass it on. I'm sorry, but I must--" But time was moving, so he turned, and fled.

Force-inhanced speed carried him through the forest, aiming directly for the site he could now see, now feel, as the place he wanted. He hurried on, pressing himself faster and faster, able now to feel the tiny crack forming in the Force. It was so far away, though he knew now if he missed it, it would be there again and he would be able to follow it through.

There would be uncomfortable questions, but he would be able to get home.

He ran on, nearly praying in his urgency to make it. The Force carried him, as if picking him up and turning him into the wind. And then it was there, just ahead of him, and with that thought he was through.

He stumbled, crashing against a wall with stunning force. Falling to the ground, Obi-Wan saw spots before his eyes. He lay there for a few moments, breathing deeply.

It was no wonder, really. Running full tilt into a wall would normally do worse than make you see spots. He stayed there until the spots faded, and he felt like he could stand without falling back over again.

He probably needed a visit to the Healer's. He levered himself upright, then got to his feet. The basement. Looking and feeling just like it did when he'd left.

Obi-Wan grinned, then let out a 'yelp'. He ran for the stairs, to go find his Master.

He nearly ran down the corriders as well, at least until his head began complaining. Then he slowed to a fast walk, unable to contain his excitement. He was home. He'd stopped in the first basement to check the time and date at the terminal there. He'd been gone barely a minute, local time. No one would even have noticed, unless they'd been paying very close attention.

He was barely a third of the way back to his room, when he realised his Master was heading towards him. He grinned, and a few moments later Qui-Gon Jinn came rushing down the hall. He stopped when he saw Obi-Wan.

"Master! I--" Obi-Wan swallowed his words as he took in Qui-Gon's expression.

It had been frantic worry when he'd first appeared. Obi-wan realised his Master had been headed for the basements -- headed to find out what had become of him. It was nice to know he'd been paying close attention, Obi-Wan reflected.

But his expression now held none of that worry. Obi-Wan grinned, and walked forward. "Master, you will not believe where I've been."

Qui-Gon was still staring. Obi-Wan walked more slowly, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. The leather strips swayed with each step.

It rather looked as though Qui-Gon might be swaying, himself. Who knew his Master had a leather fetish? Obi-Wan thought. 'Or perhaps it's a belt fetish.'

Obi-Wan drew closer. 'Barely-dressed Padawan fetish?' He smiled. "Do you want to know where I've been?"

Qui-Gon shook himself, focused on Obi-Wan's eyes for a moment, then his gaze strayed downward. "No," he said quite clearly. "Not unless the Temple, the Jedi, or the universe is in dire need of my knowing. Not for at least," he focused, lost his focus, then spoke again, "For at least the rest of the day."

"Then would you mind if I got out of the hallway? I'm not really dressed to stay warm in these drafty halls." Obi-Wan controlled his grin with long, Jedi-trained practise.

Qui-Gon stepped aside, and Obi-Wan moved past. His Master followed -- at a short distance. Obi-Wan made sure his hips swayed, as he went back to their rooms.

He winked at the few other Jedi they passed in the hallway. The reactions ranged from polite nods, to rolled eyes, to a couple knowing winks. A lot of open-mouthed stares as well. He didn't get any questions, nor hear any whispers after they went past, but Obi-Wan had a feeling by tomorrow morning it would be all over the Temple.

It was a good thing Qui-Gon wasn't the sort to mind being caught out drooling over his lover in public. At least, if he hadn't minded that incident with the jelled fruit in the dining hall, he wouldn't mind the stories that would be flying after today.