The Most Dangerous Game
by RushlightPart 3
The mercenary leader set a grueling pace, and by the time evening fell they were all tired and aching and soaked with sweat. Qui-Gon was surprised at how easily Dr. Markham managed to keep up with them, and although the pace was obviously a strain for him, the scientist voiced no complaint. His face was grey as he collapsed bonelessly onto the floor of the narrow canyon where Karn had indicated they should make camp.
The Jedi assisted in pitching a series of narrow tents, while Ahkkara started a low blaze at the middle of the clearing. Qui-Gon was pleased to note that there were only two entrances to the canyon, one at either end, which would make guarding against predators much easier during the long night. The canyon itself was about fifty feet across, framed on both sides by towering, black cliffs.
"There's a natural pool about half a mile in that direction," Dr. Markham commented, gesturing vaguely to the east end of the canyon. "If you want to bathe or anything. Just follow the left-hand wall and you can't miss it. I know I would, but I am too damn tired." So saying, he lay down on his side in front of the fire and closed his eyes, falling into an uneasy sleep.
Qui-Gon raised a questioning eyebrow at Obi-Wan and Jerjenna and received a heady rush of agreement from both of them. The idea of a bath was just too good to pass up. Qui-Gon informed Karn of their intentions before leaving the camp, and then they set off along the rocky trail. Dr. Markham's rather vague directions led them directly to an open defile where clear water trickled down into a shallow basin, running slickly over the piled rocks. The rocks were still warm from the day's heat, and the water was pleasantly tepid.
They eagerly undressed and slipped into the waiting pool. Qui-Gon closed his eyes in delight as the warm water encased his body, soothing the aches from his muscles. He was in excellent physical condition, but the stress of evading Bealial's predators combined with the physical exertion of the day's march was trying on him. He was no longer a young man, and such things did not come as easily to him as they once did.
A wave of splashed water caught him full in the face, making him sputter. Blinking the water from his eyes, he saw Obi-Wan giving him a fierce grin. "You are not old, Master," his padawan told him firmly. "And if you think that we young ones are feeling any better than you right now, you are sadly mistaken."
Qui-Gon couldn't help but laugh, but his humor was cut short as he noticed Jerjenna staring off into the darkness beyond the edge of the pool. "Jerjenna?" he said, concerned, but she barely acknowledged him. Her entire body was tensed like a spring. The water glistened on her smooth shoulders, beading like jewels in her dark hair.
Obi-Wan moved to her, causing a slow tide of ripples across the surface of the pool. He touched her arm lightly, and she jumped, startled. "Jeri?" His voice was soft.
She turned to look at him, and the stars reflected in her wide eyes. Normally the color of a winter sky at twilight, they were darkened now with the lack of light, drinking in the night around them. She forced a small smile, but it looked false, sickly. "I can feel them out there," she whispered.
Obi-Wan didn't have to ask what she meant. Wordlessly, he pulled her to him and closed his arms around her. She resisted at first, then relaxed against him, resting her head against his chest. He stroked her hair comfortingly.
"You're not alone, Jerjenna." Qui-Gon had come up to her from the opposite side, effectively bracketing her between them. "There's no way any of the animals can get into this canyon without Karn and his people noticing it and giving the alarm. You're safe now. Safe." His calm voice had the intended soothing effect, and combined with Obi-Wan's steady stroking of her hair, it began to relax her.
Obi-Wan's eyes met Qui-Gon's over Jerjenna's head, luminous in the moonlight. Qui-Gon felt a familiar tug at his heart, amplified now as he saw the two of them together. They were so beautiful, his padawans, fire and night, like two sleek and powerful cats curled around each other in the moonlight. The feline imagery sprang most readily to mind, as he took in the lean, graceful lines of their bodies, curved together against the dark water. As he watched, Obi-Wan's eyes darkened, his lids lowering as he picked up on his Master's thoughts. Not taking his eyes from Qui-Gon's, he bent his head to press a light kiss to Jerjenna's smooth shoulder.
A shiver passed through her, and for a moment she melted against him. Then she was pulling back, gently extricating herself from his embrace. Her eyes as she looked at him were apologetic. "I can't, Obi-Wan." This was barely a whisper.
He resisted her, sliding his lips across the curve of her throat as she moved away from him, touching his fingers lightly to her hip, the soft slope of her ribs - silently begging her not to go, not to exclude herself from this communion between them. But she would not be contained, and then she was gone, beyond his reach at the far side of the pool. His fingers burned where he'd touched her.
Her eyes were dark as she gazed at him, and the shadows seemed to cling to her, as if they were claiming her as their own. Her expression was one of gentle agony.
Obi-Wan was stricken. He certainly hadn't meant to cause her pain. But then Qui-Gon's arms slid around him from behind, strong fingers moving across the hairs of his chest, and Obi-Wan collapsed back into the embrace, his breath gusting out of him in a deep sigh.
"Let her go," Qui-Gon murmured, his voice a soft breath in his padawan's ear. His tongue flickered over the soft skin of Obi-Wan's throat. "It's too soon for her. It will come in time, my Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan let his eyes drift shut, and he allowed himself to be supported by his Master's strong arms, his body's natural buoyancy in the water easing some of his weight. He tipped his head back over Qui-Gon's shoulder, baring his throat, and sighed. His braid trailed in the water behind them.
Qui-Gon massaged the muscles and curves of the strong body under his hands, easing the tension out of that lean form, nipping gently at his padawan's ear and eliciting a stifled giggle from his young lover. He was aware of Jerjenna's eyes on them, and some of the turmoil drained out of her thoughts as she watched her Master's skilled hands slide sinuously over her padawan-brother's slick skin. This was as close as she ever allowed herself to come to their lovemaking, but Qui-Gon knew that she found enormous comfort in it.
It had not been Qui-Gon's intention for them to make love tonight, but it seemed to be something they all needed. He kneaded his fingers deeply into Obi-Wan's smooth skin, until Obi-Wan was groaning softly in time with his steady strokes. The young man's body was completely pliant, bobbing gently in the pool as Qui-Gon held his head and shoulders up out of the water. Qui-Gon pressed a series of slow, soft kisses to that arched throat, rubbing his beard lightly across the sensitized skin, and smiled at the answering shiver that passed through his padawan's quiescent body. Qui-Gon's tongue flicked out to lap at the smooth curve of one ear.
Qui-Gon moved his hands down to the soft curvature at the joining of hip and thigh, stroking his fingers over the velvety sac beneath. Obi-Wan was very much erect now, and Qui-Gon sank his teeth lightly into his padawan's shoulder as his hands curled around that rigid shaft. Obi-Wan's body nearly arched out of the water at the contact, but Qui-Gon soothed him with gentle kisses and soft words, urging him back down into his arms.
Slowly at first, Qui-Gon began to stroke the throbbing cock in his hands. He closed his eyes, feeling Jerjenna here with them, sharing this experience between them. Obi-Wan moaned, a wordless plea, and Qui-Gon acquiesced by increasing the speed of his movements, the pressure of his grip. Soon the lean body in his arms was rocking against him in a tender rhythm, completely given over to the sensations that spiraled through it.
Without breaking his rhythm, Qui-Gon grabbed Obi-Wan's hip in his free hand and pulled that lithe form forcefully back against his own trembling body, groaning aloud as his cock slid against the hot skin of his padawan's ass. As always, he was completely consumed by the feel of this body, the scent of it, the taste. This was Obi-Wan, his Obi-Wan, and there could be nothing more erotic in all the galaxy than the act of holding this man in his arms.
Warm lips locked onto the lobe of Qui-Gon's ear then, startling him, and he gave a soft cry as Obi-Wan began to suck demandingly, tongue lighting like a heated brand on the inner curves of the Jedi Master's ear. Oh, clever mouth, to so utterly ignite him to the point where there was no turning back for either of them.
Qui-Gon sensed the first spike of ecstasy as Obi-Wan's pleasure grew, and he worked the solid cock harder, faster, inflamed by the low, pleading sounds that spilled from his young lover. His steady thrusts rocked that body against him, around him, over him, and his entire body tensed at the sensation of it. Qui-Gon hissed low between his teeth as his own pleasure mounted. "Obi-Wan," he panted, nuzzling his face into the soft curve of the younger man's throat. "Obi-Wan..."
"Master," Obi-Wan returned to him, hands scrabbling frantically at the older man's thighs under the surface of the water. "Oh, Master, please..."
Obi-Wan gave a sudden, victorious shout as the orgasm hit him, eyes going wide and sightless as the intense pleasure swept through him. Qui-Gon rocked that slick body against him even harder, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the slow burn of orgasm start to tingle in the muscles of his thighs. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep his cries inside when the release snapped through him, and he spilled his passion into the water around them to mingle with that of his padawan's.
Qui-Gon opened his eyes after several moments and realized that he had collapsed back against the edge of the pool, and that Obi-Wan was lying limply alongside him, still folded in his arms. Tenderly, he kissed the full lips that were just inches from his own, and Obi-Wan's head lifted to meet him.
"Love you, Master," Obi-Wan said, breathing out a contented sigh.
Qui-Gon smiled against that beloved mouth. "I love you, Obi-Wan." He tightened his arms around his young lover, hugging him firmly.
Jerjenna had not moved from her position at the far end of the pool, but most of the tension had left her posture now. Her thoughts were cool, collected, all of her demons carefully caged away once again. When Qui-Gon looked up at her, he saw tears in her eyes.
"Love you, Jerjenna," he said quietly.
She stared at him, moonlight and tears mingling, and then she stood up from the water and stepped out of the pool, the water streaming down her smooth skin in rivulets like molten silver. She climbed up to the shelf where their clothes had been carefully lain and began to dress, keeping her back to them.
"She's still in so much pain," Obi-Wan whispered.
"Some wounds take a great deal of time to heal, Obi-Wan. Some never do." Qui-Gon tightened his arms around his apprentice, both seeking and giving comfort. "Let's go, beloved. It'll be a long day tomorrow, and we'll be glad for the chance to sleep tonight."
Jerjenna had regained her composure by the time they reached her, and she allowed Qui-Gon to enfold her in a warm hug, smiling wryly. "We have a long way to go, don't we, Master?" she asked softly, burrowing against his chest.
He knew that she wasn't referring to the journey to Alpha Lab. "Yes, Padawan, we do." He kissed her lightly on top of the head. "But we'll make it. All we have to do is be strong and not give up."
She nodded, but said nothing more. They gathered their things together and started back towards the camp, the need for sleep rapidly stealing over them. The camp was silent when they came to it, the fire burned down to warm embers. Together, they crawled into the tent that had been set aside for their use and curled around each other in a jumble of arms and legs. Outside, the chilling call of an unknown night creature could be heard, but Jerjenna only snuggled deeper into Obi-Wan's arms and sighed against Qui-Gon's warm chest, her thoughts radiating slow pulses of contentment and trust.
They slept.
"This is not good."
Jerjenna shared a wry glance with Obi-Wan as Dr. Markham made this pronouncement, using her Tal'Chi staff as a walking stick to help her up the next rise in the trail. They were moving into the mountain ranges now, not nearly close yet to the forbidding peaks that she could see painted against the horizon in a dark purple smear, but the lower, craggy foothills that were scattered around their base. Her lungs burned as she drank in the crisp morning air, and she sighed happily, her eyes raking over the panorama before her. She loved the sheer physical exertion of this trek, and the challenges it imposed on her.
"What are you referring to, Dr. Markham?"
Some of Jerjenna's happiness faded as she heard the low, even tones of her Master's voice. She knew it was an irrational reaction to have, but that didn't make it go away. As much as she respected and trusted Qui-Gon, it still chafed against her that he thought he could replace Master Garinham. A spike of jagged anger flashed through her, quickly suppressed. She'd gotten rather good at that lately. It was entirely unfair to Qui-Gon, she knew, but the feelings stubbornly remained.
A memory came to her, of an afternoon on the jungle-rich moon of Chal. Tall sukkor trees bending in the wind, lending their sweet, heady fragrance to the humid air. The sunlight slanted bronze-gold through the spreading canopy, and pollen danced golden in the glittering beams. All around her, the air was thick with the low humming of the charaya insects, which fed off the pollen in the air. Their opalescent wings caught the sunlight in a dazzling array of rainbow color.
That was where Garinham had made love to her for the first time, just two years ago. She had been in love with him since she was fourteen, in the mildly infatuated way that children had, but over time her feelings had deepened, grown more real. This was often the case between Masters and their padawans, as the rigors of training and the intimacy of their bond gave rise to emotions that transcended both.
She could still remember the feel of the cinnamon hair brushing across her cheek, soft as spider's silk. His eyes had looked at her with such tenderness, and his mind merged with hers in a gentle fusion of ecstasy, bodies moving together in the gentle rhythm of loving that became the sheerest expression of love to her, as she opened her soul to the gift that he offered. He had told her that he loved her then, his voice rough with the intensity of the emotions that coursed through him. She had been humbled by the magnitude of the feeling he held for her, been enthralled by the tears that rose in his eyes as he made this declaration, hovering like jewels against his dark lashes. One of them had fallen onto her face, warm as blood, and she had touched her fingers to her cheek in quiet awe, feeling the wetness of it on her fingertips. *Don't cry, Master,* she had said, folding her arms around him and pressing kisses to his soft hair.
*Love you, Jerjenna. I'll love you always...*
She realized she was crying. Hastily, she rubbed the tears out of her eyes and turned her back to the rest of them, drawing deep, cleansing breaths of the warming air. The vista in front of her seemed suddenly cold and forbidding, populated by dangers that she could not possibly imagine. She found nothing beautiful about it at all anymore.
Behind her, Qui-Gon's voice was rising. "But that will add at least half a day onto our journey!" He sounded distressed, and she quickly turned her attention back to the conversation.
Dr. Markham looked flustered, his hands fluttering around him in a useless gesture of frustration. "I know, I know. But these are definitely maraken tracks. Two of them, probably a mated pair. I really can't imagine us making it through the valley without sustaining at least some losses on the way."
Jerjenna could see the struggle on Qui-Gon's face, as he wavered between his need for all possible speed and his trust in this man's expertise. Finally, he came to a decision, and she could read the pain of it in his eyes. "What are our options if we skirt around the valley?" he asked, the words weighing heavily on him.
"We follow the rim." The doctor slumped in relief, obviously pleased with the Jedi Master's decision. "It'll be harder going, but we'll have a much better chance of making it through alive. We should be able to reach the far side by nightfall. There's a small grotto at the edge of the river where we can shelter for the night, and then it's a simple matter to climb to Alpha Lab."
"As simple as anything can be with thorne prowling the area," Karn spoke up with a low, growling laugh. Jerjenna's eyes narrowed as she looked at him.
"Well, let's get moving, then." Qui-Gon was obviously displeased with the whole situation. His resentment flickered at the edges of their bond, burning her. She shrank back to trail at the end of the ragged group, with only Crispin's slim shape behind her, guarding their backs.
After a few minutes, he came up to walk beside her. She accepted his presence without comment, although she found it secretly comforting. She rather liked this diminutive, quiet man. He wasn't as irritating as Karn or as aloof as Ahkkara, and she did not share Obi-Wan's prejudice against mercenaries. They were each risking their lives to protect their charges, even if it was only because they were being paid to do so, and she sensed that they had their own kind of honor. They would do as they had promised, and see the Jedi safely to their destination.
"How long will those vaccines of yours last?" Crispin asked softly.
She glanced at him sideways out of the corner of her eye, surprised at his interest in the Rualyns and not quite sure why she should be. "That depends," she replied. "They're encased in an independent refrigeration pack, but once the battery is damaged they'll start to decay rapidly."
"So that means we might be making this trip for nothing."
"Maybe." She could not lie to him.
He nodded and said nothing more. She appreciated his calm acceptance of their mission and relaxed into the companionable silence that flowed between them. The path they were on wound up into a narrow defile, forcing them to walk single file, before broadening into a wide shelf that overlooked the valley to their right. They had climbed quite a distance since this morning, and the height was dizzying. Far off in the distance, large birds of prey circled lazily.
It was almost an hour later that she felt an odd prickling sensation along the back of her neck. Uncomfortable, she looked around furtively and saw nothing amiss. Qui-Gon walked at the head of the party with Dr. Markham, preceded by the ever-present Karn. About a dozen paces behind them, Obi-Wan shared the middle guard with Ahkkara. He had taken off his Jedi robe as the day's humid heat set in, and the sleeves of his tunic were rolled up above his elbows. None of them seemed to think that there was anything dubious about the land they were passing through.
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