Title: Destiny (Part One of Three)

By: JediSennah

Rating: PG for some minor name-calling, might even be closer to G.
Summary: Already a week late in returning to Coruscant, Qui-Gon and
15-year-old Obi-Wan stop for supplies on a backwater planet, where
Qui-Gon finds himself sidetracked once more.

Disclaimer: Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, the Ryn species, and all
other
pre-established Star Wars paraphanalia belong to George Lucas and
Lucasfilm Ltd. I am only borrowing them for a little while, I won't
make
any money off this, and I promise I will put them back relatively
unharmed when I'm done.
Sennah, Gandan, and any other new characters are ©2002 me, Stephanie
Zurligen aka JediSennah. If anyone wants to use them in a story, I
won't
mind, just ask me first, ok?

----------------

Gandan counted out the pile of coins in his black velvet-furred hand
with a talon-like nail. He didn't have much left, but it would be
enough
to buy something extra for Eda to use in making some type of fantastic
dish for tomorrow's celebration. His wife was good at transforming
myriad bits of the ordinary into an extraordinary whole. He also needed
to pick up a few power packs and a recharger from this shop. Gandan
hoped he would have enough. The short biped slipped the coins into a
pocket on his brightly colored, yet threadbare vest and entered the
store.

It was a rather small store, but then most of the things on this
woebegotten planet were small, or underdeveloped, or crude. Even the
planet's spaceport was barely big enough for more than a few cargo
ships
and passenger flight or two. But this store would have a few things
that
Gandan wouldn't find out in the market. Things that were not
manufactured on-planet; they had to be shipped in to be sold at
exorbitant prices in shops like this. As he wandered the aisles, Gandan
felt sorry for anyone who happened to stop by this planet needing
supplies for a spacecraft. The prices for standard food packs and air
filters were amazingly steep.

The short, compact alien hefted his small basketful of goods towards
the
checkout counter. He joined the line of other shoppers eager to
purchase
their goods quickly and be gone before the shop closed for the night.
Gandan tried not to notice the extreme distance the human before him
was
keeping from him, or the condescending and even disgusted looks from
the
few others left in the store.

>From behind he suddenly heard a young male voice. "...But Master, if
you
had not stopped to talk to that Twi'lek girl, we would be back home at
Coruscant right now."

"Yes we could be home by now, Padawan. Yet because we are not, that
young girl is no longer living the life of a slave." Answered an older,
deeper voice patiently.

"I know it is not my place to disagree with you, Master, but even
Master
Yoda has said we should stick to the matter at hand, and to our
mission,
and not be distracted by these small detours. The small ones add up
into
big ones, and now we're here, buying emergency supplies for our
transport ship in some forgotten corner of the galaxy."

"You have to be mindful of the living Force, my young apprentice,
sometimes it will lead you to a place such as this for a reason."

Gandan glanced back when he heard the older voice mention the Force. He
was delighted, and a little surprised, to see two humans, one was fully
grown, standing a head and half taller than himself. He had long brown
hair, a similarly colored beard, and striking blue eyes. The other was
still rather young, he was nearer to Gandan's own height. He had
short-cropped hair, except for a tightly-woven braid hanging behind one
ear. Gandan could not see the young one's eyes, he was facing away,
still discussing something with his master. The humans were both
wearing
the long, loose, flowing robes that only one group in the galaxy wore:
the Jedi Knights. The older one pushed his outer robes aside, reaching
for a pouch on his belt. Gandan glimpsed a silver and black cylinder;
it
had to be the legendary Jedi weapon, a lightsaber. Gandan did not want
to be seen staring, so he faced forwards again. Inside, though, he was
a
bit excited. The Jedi were much admired among his people, and legend
had
it that to see or meet a Jedi was a sign of good luck.

The line moved and Gandan took a few steps forward, still keeping a
respectful distance from the person in front of him. The young Jedi was
still facing his master, and must have missed seeing the alien in front
of him stop, because a second later Gandan yelped in surprise and pain,
and found the boy standing on the end of his long, muscular tail.

The apprentice jumped back, turning red with embarrassment. "I'm so
sorry sir, I was not looking where I was going. Are you all right?"

Gandan smiled and laughed at the blushing youngster. "I am fine young
Jedi," he said in whistling, heavily accented Basic. He let loose
another hearty laugh. "I am wondering though," he remarked, grinning as
he stroked his long gray mustache in thought, "if it is good luck to
meet a Jedi, what does it mean to be stepped on by one?"

The elder Jedi chuckled at the comment, "Good luck forever, or perhaps
bad luck, considering the one who stepped on you." The youth glared at
the floor. The elder put a hand on his shoulder. "I am only joking,
Padawan. Just as there are times to be serious, there are times like
these when it is best to not be." The elder Jedi smiled at the velvety
alien in front of him. Gandan chuckled as he turned to face the head of
the line once more.

Gandan reached the head of the line a few minutes later, he and the
Jedi
were the only customers left in the shop. Gandan put his purchases on
the counter to be totaled. The storeowner, a rough-looking human with
rather large muscles, scowled down at the velvet-furred alien. The
storekeeper eyed Gandan over, from his worn boots to his brightly
colored clothing, from the prehensile tail to the beak-like nose that
was fluted like a musical instrument.

"What do you want you spiky-haired freak?" The shopkeeper growled.

"Just to purchase these few items and be on my way." Gandan answered
politely in accented Basic.

"Why should I let you?"

"Because my money is worth the same as anyone else's." Gandan answered.

"How do I know you didn't steal that money from one of my friends?" the
big human behind the counter demanded. "Your kind have a reputation for
thievery."

"I guess you will have to trust me by my actions, and not whatever
rumors you have heard, or is that concept too big for your little
mind?"
Gandan asked, glaring at the shopkeeper, anger growing in his eyes.

The shopkeeper's face reddened in anger. "You dirty little-."

"Excuse me," a deep smooth voice interrupted. The bearded Jedi stepped
up to the counter, catching the shopkeeper's attention with a waved
hand. "His money is legitimate."

The shopkeeper stared at the Jedi for a moment, blinked, then nodded,
"I
guess it is."

The Jedi turned to the spiky maned being beside him. "He has decided to
take your money, it seems."

Gandan was puzzled, but handed over the money. The shopkeeper accepted
it and Gandan packed the purchases into his backpack.

As Gandan lifted the pack, the shopkeeper shook his head as if trying
to
clear it. He suddenly demanded, "Hold on, I want to check your pockets
you little thief. I bet you have things hidden in those baggy pants of
yours."

Gandan scowled at the shopkeeper, he was about to make a nasty comment
when the elder Jedi interrupted again.

"You don't need to see his pockets," the Jedi said with a barely
perceptible wave of his hand. "He did not steal from you."

"No, he didn't." The shopkeeper replied.

"He can go." the Jedi suggested.

"Yes, he can go." The big man repeated.

The Jedi glanced at Gandan and nodded, Gandan hurried out the door.

Gandan waited just outside the store for the Jedi to emerge. The door
opened and the younger Jedi appeared, carrying a large shoulder pack,
his master was just behind.

"I wanted to thank you, sir." Gandan said, stepping forward to catch up
with the Jedi.

"Do not mention it." The Jedi replied, then added quietly, "To anyone."

Gandan grinned and nodded in understanding. <So, perhaps he is real
after all, and he has come for her at last,> Gandan thought to himself
as he studied the bearded Jedi. The Jedi Master's voice, it had a
melody
that almost DID sound like the voice of one of Gandan's people, even
though he didn't have the fluted whistle-like nose. Gandan decided he
would not say anything, he would wait and see what Fate would bring.

"Force be with you sirs." Gandan said, shouldering his pack and turning
to leave.

The elder Jedi spoke a series of whistling, melodic-sounding words.
Gandan stopped abruptly in mid-step and turned around, his large eyes
wide in amazement; the Jedi Master knew some of his language; and he
spoke it very well, the Jedi's voice almost made up for the lack of
nasal equipment. Gandan bowed his head to the Jedi, and thanked him in
the same language.

***

Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his teenage apprentice Obi-Wan Kenobi
stood
in the doorway of the small shop, watching the strange alien walk away.

"What was he, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, looking up at Qui-Gon. "I have
never seen one of his species before."

"He was a Ryn, my young padawan. They are a rare species, and with the
way their kind are treated, it is surprising to see that clans of them
still survive." The Jedi Master stared thoughtfully down the road,
watching the coal-black velvety alien weave his way through the street
traffic until he was lost in the crowd.

"Why was the shopkeeper so convinced he was a thief?" The teenage Jedi
asked, hefting the pack of supplies over his shoulder. His Master
didn't respond.

Obi-Wan touched Qui-Gon on the arm. "Master?"

Qui-Gon blinked and looked down at his apprentice. "I'm sorry Obi-Wan,
what did you ask?" Obi-Wan repeated his question, but Qui-Gon still
seemed in the midst of some deep thought or dream.

Abruptly Qui-Gon turned and began walking towards the spaceport.
Obi-Wan
hurried to catch up, lugging the pack. Qui-Gon spoke as they walked.

"The Ryn live a simple life, when they are not being killed or
forcefully relocated by mobs. Their nomadic traditions and willingness
to work any job available to get food for their clan, or to buy
transportation to a friendlier place, has earned the Ryn a reputation
for stealing jobs from local laborers. Traveling Ryn will usually set
up
camp just outside a spaceport, or in a station if they are fortunate
enough to have ships. Then they will wander the port dancing, singing,
or telling fortunes for the locals, in exchange for goods or money. It
is these traveling carnivals and the Ryn expertise in negotiating a
deal
that has spread the most damaging prejudices: that the Ryn are no more
than soulless thieves and swindlers." Qui-Gon paused. "Yet, despite the
prejudice against them, the few Ryn I have met have been honest and
kind, with a deep reverence for the Force and the Jedi."

"Have there ever been any Ryn Jedi?" Obi-Wan wondered aloud as they
neared the docking bay.

"None that I know. The Ryn are wary of non-Ryn coming into their camps.
I have heard stories of Ryn children and even adults being kidnapped to
be sold as slaves. Or made breeders for slave children. I do not think
many Ryn would let even a Jedi come near enough to their children to
test them for Force sensitivity, so most Jedi don't bother trying."

They arrived at their rented transport ship just as the sun was
setting.
Qui-Gon punched in the access code and they entered. Obi-Wan began
storing away the supplies, but Qui-Gon interrupted him.

"I will finish that, Obi-Wan. Get some rest, we may have some walking
to
do tomorrow."

"But Master, we are supposed to be leaving for Coruscant tomorrow."
Obi-Wan protested.

"Our return will be delayed." Qui-Gon replied. Obi-Wan opened his mouth
to protest, but Qui-Gon cut him off with a raised hand. "No questions
padawan, just go to sleep."

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan sighed, and crawled into his berth. He was
already
dreading the morning. His master was dragging him along on yet another
detour.

****

The setting sun shone on the tawny fuzz and brown hair of three year
old
Sennah as she sat on a rock near the trail to camp. She was drawing
patterns in the dirt with a small talon-like fingernail and humming a
little song through her beak-like nose. She concentrated on carefully
drawing four pillars, each with pointed tops, with a fifth, taller than
the rest, in the middle. Suddenly a trilling sound floated through the
air. Sennah's head snapped up, she looked down the road to where the
whistle had come from. Ambling towards camp was uncle Gandan, his arms
and pack full of things bought in town. Sennah dusted her velvety hands
off on her bightly-colored skirt, then, fingering the holes along her
nose; she answered with a trilling whistle of her own.

"You are getting good little one." Gandan said to her in the melodic
Ryn
tongue as he reached his niece. He set down his packages and sat on the
rocks next to her. "Will you sing a song for us at Fina and Aandon's
wedding tomorrow?" He asked.

Sennah grinned and nodded. Gandan lifted the toddler into his lap.
Glancing down, he noticed the patterns in the dirt.

"What were you drawing my little niece?" he asked.

Sennah tried again to explain the big tall building with lots of people
inside, people who were her family but none of them looked like the
people in this clan. She tried to describe the kind man with blue eyes
and brown fur on only his head and his chin, who had a voice that sang
just like someone from her clan, but didn't have the right kind of
nose.
The man who was part of that clan who lives in the big pretty building,
the man who would take her to go meet them. Sennah babbled on, but she
still didn't know the words for everything she had seen so many times
in
her dreams. She began to feel frustrated, she always did when trying to
explain it, but she continued trying to tell uncle Gandan about the
flying room that she is going to ride in, way up high in the stars.
Sennah knew Gandan didn't understand a lot of what she was saying. No
one ever did. The little Ryn sighed and fell silent, a frown creasing
her striped face.

Gandan lifted Sennah up, tossing her high in the air and catching her
again. He perched her on one shoulder. Sennah giggled as she wrapped
her
tail around her uncle's neck to steady herself.

"Do not worry my little one," Gandan said, tickling the end of Sennah's
fuzzy tail. "I think we may soon be finding out just what you have been
babbling to us about since you first started learning to speak."

Gandan gathered his packages and carried them and the little one into
camp.

****

"...Yeah, get me Degent."

A scowling face crosed by several poorly-healed scars appeared on the
screen.

"What now Udek? This better be important." the face on the screen
growled.

"I have something for you. Something that you may find interesting."

"What?"

"Watch this vid I am sending you."

The face on the screen turned, looking at a monitor to the side. He
watched with disinterest. Suddenly his eyes widened, he whipped back
around to the telescreen. "This was recorded in your store?"

The shopkeeper nodded.

"Today?" Degent asked.

"Yes."

"Do you know where they are staying?"

"How should I know? Your men should be able to find them, I'm sure
plenty of people in town have seen them around."

"This may prove profitable." Degent mused.

"I expect some of it will come my way?" the shopkeeper inquired.

"Of course Udek." Degent replied absentmindedly, watching the vid
again.
"I'll be in contact."

The screen went dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Disclaimer

All images and graphics and assorted fan art are © The Staff of the Expanded Universe. They are not to be used without permission unless otherwise stated., in which case credit will be given where credit is do. Remember people we worked hard to bring this stuff out to you , so at least acknowledge where it came from!

Thanks to the greatest Jedi of all time, the mighty George Lucas and his vision for bringing us this epic tale. Again all items belonging to George Lucas and all of his associates are© of his companies, and I take no reponsibility for their use. Enjoy!!!