Qui-Gon looked listened intently to his padawan as the rich, smooth tones informed him of what he had already known at heart.
They were stuffed.
"So, we've nothing to bargain with?"
"What about the Queen's wardrobe?"
"Captain Panaka says you're taking that over his dead body." Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled. "He really likes the black, feathery number. Infact he's been wearing it ever since you left."
"Ah…the heat does funny things to people, padawan."
"If you say so, master. But there's nothing like the amount onboard the ship that we need. Nothing for you to barter with."
"An idea will present itself, never fear…"
Qui-Gon pursed his lips.
"Master? Are you still there?"
"What? Oh, yes…I've had an idea. Do you think you could make it into Mos Espa?"
"Why?" Obi-Wan became a little suspicious.
"Well, I thought that maybe we could solve our little financial difficulties by selling you into slavery. What do you think?"
"M-m-master?" Kenobi stammered.
"Don't worry about it. I'd make sure you got a good owner. Someone who'd only beat and kick you a few times a day, nothing drastic."
"Master, I'm supposed to take my trials in a few years." Kenobi gulped. "I have an unofficial girlfriend of sorts! What's she going to say about this?"
"Oh, she can find somebody else. If she hasn't already." Qui-Gon smirked.
"But I'm your padawan!"
"Ah…I've been meaning to speak to you about that." Qui-Gon laughed nervously. "You see, I've met this boy. I have a hunch that he might well be the chosen one and so I thought you might like to do the honerable thing and step down, you know? For the greater good of the galaxy."
"But…" Kenobi started to say.
"I knew you'd agree." Qui-Gon smiled happily. "Well done that man. You're a good sport Obi-Wan. Actually, I have someone who's interested in buying you. His name's Watto. I know you are going to get on just perfectly…
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