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12 May 2011 @ 09:21 pm
Fic: ‘... no fruit?’  
Title: ... no fruit?
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: (PG)
Time Period: Between AotC & RotS: some weeks after the Second Battle of Jabiim.
Summary: The hospitality could’ve been better.

Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).

When writing this, I shook my head at the conversation between Asajj and Obi-Wan; he had no compunction in telling her that her hospitality was lacking. Especially when it came to feeding her ... guests. Which, in its way, it is! I mean, an all-protein diet? Really?

Of course, I suppose, it depends on what the protein is?

This story continues the journey that can be found in the below parts:
A thought, a gift
Upon a chance
Confront the disturbance you must (Part I of II)
Of Senators and disturbances (Part II of II; deleted scenes: Of Jedi and their padawans & Expect him to leave, they will).
Remaining true (Part I | Part II | Part III)
Unwilling guests & unwelcome news

These eventually lead to events in For each other alone.

All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Lucas; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by him.


He didn’t know how long they’d been imprisoned; it simply felt an endless array of nothing. No days. No nights. An eternal succession of movement, for Alpha-17, from the cell to somewhere else. His accommodation was the cell and that was all.

“Are you hungry?”

Blue eyes focused on the bald woman before him. “Do you have any fruit? All the protein you’ve been giving me has been boring. Even ration bars would be preferable to the amount of protein I’ve been consuming of late.”

She smiled, crookedly. “Bored, General Kenobi?”

“If you are sincerely asking, I’ll give a genuine answer.”

There was nothing other than mild amusement.

“Since you are sincerely asking, then, yes, I am bored. No exercise and only those continuous doses of protein?” He shook his head. “You ought to be ashamed to call yourself a generous host.”

“My hospitality is legendary,” she purred.

“I ate better on Ord Cestus.”

Briefly, she scowled; she remembered that mission well. He watched her carefully but the sudden strike to his jaw caused blurred vision momentarily. In that instant, she popped a small, soft white body into his mouth under the mask. He couldn’t help but swallow.

Then grimace from the searing pain that followed soon after.

“This is better fare than Ord Cestus.”

His gaze caught hers once more. “As I said earlier, Ventress,” he levelly replied, “I’d like some fruit to accompany this protein.”

“I am on meditative retreat, Governor.” She sat, hands in her lap, eyes upon her visitor. Hair bound by a simple band and free-flowing, her gown a light green to blue that reminded the Governor of spring and cheeks flushed light pink, she appeared in good health and spirits.

Only the shadows within her gaze, which he saw only due to his long acquaintance, told otherwise.

“Are you certain you will not leave retreat earlier than you intend?”

Only then did her smile falter. “Governor,” her smile faded as she stood and turned to the window, “I am certain I cannot leave this meditative retreat early. It is for the good of myself that I am upon it and if I return before I am ready, the good of Naboo will suffer.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We would not wish for that, would we, on the stage of intergalactic politics?”

He shook his head. “No, Senator. This retreat, however, has been questioned by the Council and the Queen herself. It was sudden and, therefore, unexpected.”

“Governor,” she now fully turned away from the window and faced him, “it is much needed. I am constantly facing the demands and needs of both the Senate and Naboo as well as the other planets in our sector. Within recent months, I have faced assassination and lost a friend to these Wars that, I feel, should not have begun. This is the first time in years I have taken a brief respite that is needed if I am to properly represent our planet.”

She paused, her lips curving at the corners; a quiet smile. “There are no Bills and motions that need my attention and support in the Senate at present and if I am to represent our planet and sector on Coruscant to the fullest extent of my abilities, this is the perfect time to be on retreat, to refresh a mind and body weary of all that has happened over the past months.

“You may tell the Queen,” she held a hand between them, to stop the speech she saw forming, “this for me. She will respect your words, and your opinion, on this matter.”

Sio Bibble nodded, faintly. “If you wish it, Senator.”

“I wish it, Governor.”

He bowed, extending a hand which she shook. “Good afternoon, Senator.”

“May your journey be safe, and swift, to Theed, Governor.”

As he walked away, he shook his head with an indulgent smile. He would report her words to the Queen and matters would proceed from there. As he left, she picked up a shawl from where it had fallen upon his arrival and wrapped it around her shoulders, her arms folded about her body tightly.

The inability to focus the Force, he had surmised, was due to the mask he was forced to wear during the down time between the question and lack of answer sessions with Ventress. His body ached from the constant pain generated from whatever she gave him during their question and lack of answer sessions; he knew she was ill-pleased with the results gained from himself and Alpha-17.

The ARC trooper had been trained well.

He closed his eyes; Alpha-17 was with Ventress. It gave him a small respite to gather his thoughts and strength, what little there was of the latter.

As always, his mind wandered to Coruscant, knowing they thought him dead and, thus, as would the Senate representative of the Chommell Sector. He closed his eyes, wishing he’d been more courageous when it came to visiting Naboo; he’d not been back, even once, since the death of his former Master. It had hurt too much and then, he’d been busy with his duties, which had included training Anakin.

His head fell forward, his eyes closed. What difference would it make to visit Naboo now? They’d not spoken since she’d left the Temple those months ago; he didn’t even know if her heart had remained with him. He knew his had remained with her; the months of war had made him realise precisely where, and to whom, it belonged.

Between his chained wrists, the pipe began to weaken.
Armchair DM: Igor: A Rod Of Silencearmchairdm on May 12th, 2011 12:03 pm (UTC)
... I mean really; you can't have a only-protein diet. That really isn't showing much hospitality!
F. J.: Lantern & Candles: Warmmorethanacandle on May 12th, 2011 12:38 pm (UTC)
I'm sure she noted his comments.
emiv: btvs | spike's dreamemiv on June 2nd, 2011 03:01 am (UTC)
I keep finding myself holding my breath during this series, this story in particular...not sure I breathed much at all while reading it!

That last line, coupled with the paragraph before? Sheer perfection.

F. J.: Three candlesmorethanacandle on June 2nd, 2011 11:09 am (UTC)
I keep finding myself holding my breath during this series, this story in particular...not sure I breathed much at all while reading it!
Golly gosh!

That last line, coupled with the paragraph before? Sheer perfection.
Thank you! That's one of my favourite parts of this story.