DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters created by George Lucas nor the Star Wars concept; Lucasfilm does. I am very respectfully borrowing them because I love the Star Wars universe. I have no intent to profit from them.

SUMMARY: Luke Skywalker, desperate to know more about the Jedi before the Dark Times, finds an old woman, one of the last of the Jedi from the times before the Emperor. Having known both Obi-Wan and his master, Qui-Gon Jinn, she tells Luke her story.

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

Prologue

Luke Skywalker watched as the old woman gazed at the 2D-replicates of the holophotos he had found in Ben‘s homestead on Tatooine. With fingers warped by age she caressed the images.

“I had forgotten,” she whispered. “I had forgotten.”

“What had you forgotten?” he asked gently.

Aalea Ve’Red looked up at him. “I had forgotten....how I once looked.”

She lifted her hand to her face and touched the ruined flesh. R2 warbled sympathetically.

Luke glanced over at the droid. When he and R2 had entered Aalea’s dark little hovel on the Outer Rim world of Cire IV, for a moment the old woman had seemed to recognize R2, but then she had shook her head as if she had been mistaken.

Luke’s heart ached as he looked at her. If she was the young woman in Ben’s holophotos, time had not been good to her. Her once black hair was now gray. Skin that had been smooth and the color of honey was wrinkled and marred and, at some point in the past, she had been horribly burned. But her eyes. Luke gazed in wonder at her large violet eyes for, in spite of her ravaged face, they were still as beautiful as the eyes of the young woman in the holophotos.

“It is you, isn’t it?” he said softly.

Aalea looked down at the photos. “Yes, it is me.”

Luke pointed to a bearded young man in formal Jedi attire. “And that’s Ben standing next to you?”

“Yes. At your father’s wedding.”

Luke looked closer at the photo. It showed Obi-Wan and Aalea, an arm about the other, standing next to a tall young man with blond hair who was holding a slender dark-haired woman close to him. Luke’s eyes brimmed as he looked at the couple. His mother and father. They were both smiling. They looked very happy.

Luke wiped quickly at his eyes, then pointed to another photo.

“And this one?”

It was of a fresh-faced boy with bright blue-gray eyes standing in front of a tall, long-haired Jedi with a piercing blue gaze.

“Obi-Wan and his master, Qui-Gon Jinn. It was taken when Obi-Wan was thirteen, after he had formally been accepted by Qui-Gon as his padawan. It was customary for such photos to be taken to honor the event.” Aalea laughed softly. “I remember how envious I was the day I heard that Qui-Gon had chosen Obi-Wan as his padawan.”

“Why?” Luke asked.

“Because I had wanted to be Qui-Gon’s padawan. But I was only six when Obi-Wan was chosen. Too young to be selected. I resented Obi-Wan for a long time after that.”

Luke stared at the photo of Ben as a boy. He had only known his mentor as a grizzled old man, that “crazy old wizard” as his Uncle Owen used to call him. It was hard for Luke to reconcile that image of Ben with the young Obi-Wan Kenobi in the photo, standing so proudly before his master.

Then he recalled Aalea’s words about resenting Ben. He pointed to the third and final photo which was of Aalea, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon and a woman Luke didn‘t recognize, “But, here, you don’t look like you resent...”

Aalea blushed, smiled and dipped her head and, for a moment, instead of the wrinkled, scarred flesh and limp, gray hair of an old woman, Luke saw the spirited young woman he imagined Aalea once had been.

“That was taken on a picnic on Coruscant. I had never been on one before, so Cian arranged it. Actually, it was the last time....”

Aalea stopped and laid the photos in her lap, her fingers fluttering to her neck. Her eyes gazed off into the distance.

Luke looked down at the photo and did not see the pain that moved across Aalea‘s face.

“Cian?” he asked. “Is that the name of the other woman in the photo?”

Aalea looked back at Luke, her eyes refocusing on him.

“Yes. Cian Nyal. She was like a mother to me....” Aalea’s voice suddenly broke and she turned away from Luke. Her shoulders shook.

“Oh, why did you come here? Why do you trouble me with these memories?” She dropped her face into her hands. R2 beeped softly.

Luke reached towards her and touched her arm.

“Forgive me, Mistress Ve’Red. It was not my intention to cause you any distress. But when I found these holophotos in Ben’s home, I wanted so much to know who these people were.”

Aalea lowered her hands and lifted her head. She gazed back at him.

Luke gestured at the photos. “Ben didn‘t own much, but these photos meant a lot to him. He had them hidden inside a stasis box. It was luck that I found them at all. So much was lost during the Emperor’s reign.”

“Yes,” she finally said, her eyes haunted. “Much was lost.”

Aalea picked up the photos and gazed at them.

“Forgive me,” she whispered and Luke wasn’t sure if she was talking to him or the people in the photos.

“I’ve searched a long time to find you, Mistress Ve'Red," he said. "Ben was like a father to me. If I could learn even a little about him, what he was like before the dark times and...”

Luke stopped and took Aalea's hand in his. He looked deeply into her eyes.

“And whom he cared for,” he continued softly.

Aalea looked back at him. She squeezed his hand. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to be discourteous. It’s just that...it’s been a long time. A long time. And sometimes I wish I could forget.”

“Please, tell me your story, Mistress Ve‘Red,” Luke pleaded. “Tell me what they were like. What you were like. I’d really like to know.”

Aalea’s heart warmed at the longing in Luke’s blue eyes. He was so much like his father, the young Anakin Skywalker she had known before Obi-Wan lost him to the Emperor.

She sighed deeply. “All right. I will tell you my story, young Luke.” She reached over and patted his hand. Then she sat back and took a deep breath.

“But, I suppose I should start with Qui-Gon’s mission to Dyran. A mission that was to have a profound effect on my life, his and Obi-Wan’s. I was only eight at the time, just an initiate at the Temple. Obi-Wan was fifteen and had been Qui-Gon’s padawan for two years. He and Qui-Gon were on their way back to Coruscant after a mission to Tamarii....”

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

Qui-Gon gazed with a heavy heart at the bunk where Obi-Wan was tossing in his sleep. The two Jedi were returning to Coruscant on the Republic cruiser Alliance from Tamarii where Obi-Wan had been injured in their battle with the Tamariian war-mages.

Obi-Wan moaned softly. Turning on his side, he murmured the one word he had been repeating when Qui-Gon had finally rescued him from the war-mages’ fortress: Never.

Qui-Gon shuddered. The war-mages had tried to turn Obi-Wan to the dark side, but the boy had resisted with every ounce of his strength. The memory of that struggle, however, had left Obi-Wan with recurring nightmares.

Qui-Gon rose from his chair. He walked over and gazed down at the boy. Although Obi-Wan was now fifteen standards, asleep he looked terribly young and vulnerable. Too young to have undergone what the war-mages had done to him.

Bending down, Qui-Gon gently placed his fingers along Obi-Wan’s temple. Breathing slowly and deeply, he focused his awareness on the matrix of the Force. It appeared in his mind as a pulsating nexus of golden light.
Soon he saw before him the roiling black knot of nightmare the war-mages had left within Obi-Wan’s unconsciousness.

Qui-Gon’s awareness swept towards that pulsating knot of darkness. Gathering the Force about him like a shield, he plunged into that mass of horror. Darkness and fire, anger and hate, and pain--deep, oceanic, and powerful--surged over Qui-Gon.

He gasped and closed his eyes. His fingers trembled alongside Obi-Wan's temple as he struggled to gain control. With all the power of the Force, Qui-Gon concentrated on maintaining his focus as he siphoned all the dark side energy which was afflicting Obi-Wan into himself.

Realizing he had been holding his breath for some time, Qui-Gon released it sharply. He opened his eyes and looked down at Obi-Wan. His breathing had evened out and he had settled into a more restful, dreamless sleep. However, what Qui-Gon had done was merely a temporary reprieve. Only the Healers at the Temple could completely mend Obi-Wan’s remaining mental wounds.

The sound of something hitting the floor drew Qui-Gon‘s eyes down. Obi-Wan’s hand had slipped off his bunk. Whatever he had been clutching in it had fallen to the floor.

Qui-Gon reached down. It was the river stone he had given Obi-Wan on his thirteenth birthday. The stone was warm on his palm and pulsed with Obi-Wan’s life force. Qui-Gon squeezed it for a moment. Then he carefully placed it in the alcove above Obi-Wan’s head.

He looked down at Obi-Wan and, reaching down, lightly stroked the boy’s hair. Recalling how close he had come to losing him to the war-mages, Qui-Gon’s heart lurched in his chest.

He quickly turned back to the desk in their quarters. As he sat down, he realized with a start he was vulnerable again. He could be hurt. Again. And a name--Xanatos--flickered, then died in his mind. Yet, wasn’t being vulnerable a part of being alive? A part of the Living Force he was always lecturing Obi-Wan about? To feel. To care. To suffer. Pain was as much a part of life as joy.

Qui-Gon picked up his stylus and pressed opened his journal. A part of him looked upon his writings as a conceited and foolish vanity, but another part took great comfort in writing down his reflections and meditations. Especially when he was troubled, his journal had become a welcome sanctuary.

He wrote quickly, his handwriting large and bold: Like the shadow adjusting itself to the moving body, so must the Master adapt. To change with change is the changeless state.

The holocom in the quarters beeped. Qui-Gon laid his stylus down and quickly activated it.

"Yes, Captain," he said quietly.

"Please excuse if disturbed you I have, Master Jinn," the tiny holographic image of their ship's Xionese captain said. "But incoming message for you from Chancellor Valorum there is."

"Patch it into the galley, Captain. I'll take it there."

"Yes, sir".

Qui-Gon pressed his journal closed. He rose quickly from his chair. With a last look to ensure Obi-Wan had not been awakened, he hurried down the hall to the galley. He entered the galley and sat at the long metal dining table. Pressing the control on the table’s surface he activated the holocom.

"All right, Captain, I"m here."

The image which appeared over the table’s surface morphed from that of the ship’s captain to the aristocratic features of Chancellor Valorum.

"Qui-Gon. You are well?” he asked.

"As well as can be expected, Chancellor. If you read my reports, you know Tamarii was no picnic."

A frown of concern flickered across Valorum‘s face. "Yes. I'm very sorry about Obi-Wan. How is he?"

"The Tamarii physicians were able to heal most of his physical wounds,” Qui-Gon replied, “but he will need some time to recuperate fully.”

“I’m sorry to hear that," Valorum said. "Our intelligence concerning the war-mages had not indicated they had achieved that level of mind control.”

Qui-Gon paused as a spasm of anger pierced through him. He quickly stilled his mind. It was not the Chancellor’s fault he and Obi-Wan had not been adequately prepared for their mission

“A great deal of mental damage was done to him by the war-mages,” Qui-Gon continued. “He’ll insist he's fine, but I know better."

Chancellor Valorum cleared his throat. "Then I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Qui-Gon, but I have another mission for you."

Qui-Gon shook his head. "We’re not ready for another mission, Chancellor. Not this soon."

Valorum wearily rubbed the side of his nose. He looked no better than Obi-Wan.

“If there were some other way to deal with this, Qui-Gon”, Valorum said, “I can assure you I would have explored that. However, your ship will pass near the Dyran system. Your captain tells me he can have you there in two days.”

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, released it slowly. “Chancellor, it’s imperative Obi-Wan return to the Jedi Temple.”

“I understand, Qui-Gon, but my request is an urgent one. A historian from Alderaan University is on an archeological dig on Dyran. You may have heard of him. Professor Kom Landru."

Qui-Gon nodded. Professor Landru was one of the most noted historians in the galaxy. His books on the Old Republic and the Great Sith War were required reading at the Temple.

"The professor and his assistant have not been heard from for nearly three weeks now," Valorum continued. "Because Professor Landru is very protective of his privacy, at first nothing was thought to be amiss when communications ceased from the planet. However, I'm worried. I have just learned Professor Landru was recently diagnosed with Alvron’s Syndrome. A bit of information he managed to keep secret from the Republic foundation which is funding his dig. If they had known he was ill, they would never have approved this expedition. I want you to go to Dyran and ascertain the situation."

Qui-Gon said nothing for a moment. He knew it was wrong for him to even consider balancing the lives of Republic citizens against that of his padawan, but he also knew Obi-Wan could not handle another mission.

“You mentioned an assistant?” he asked.

"Yes. Cian Nyal. You remember her, Qui-Gon. Her father was Senator Sydalli Nyal. After he and his wife were killed, Cian came to live in my household for a time, before she went off to University.”

Valorum hesitated for a moment and a look of anguish appeared on his normally stoic face.

“Cian is like a daughter to me, Qui-Gon. I was vehemently against her going on this dig with Professor Landru. But she's headstrong. And she's deeply devoted to him."

Qui-Gon quickly made the only decision he knew he could under the circumstances. “Very well, Chancellor, but I will go alone on the mission. Obi-Wan will continue on to Coruscant."

"If you think that's best."

"I do."

“I'm forwarding Professor Landru’s last reports to you. And Qui-Gon?"

“Yes, Chancellor?”

“Thank you.”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Don’t worry, Chancellor. I’m sure they’re fine.”

“I hope you’re right. Good luck.” Valorum’s image faded away.

Qui-Gon quickly downloaded the reports from the holocom into his personal datapad. Once that was done, he folded his arms and sat back in the chair. Although he was deeply aware of Valorum's concern that something terrible had already befallen Professor Landru and his assistant, Qui-Gon had learned over the years people usually expected the worse.

No, Qui-Gon thought ruefully, the difficult part of this mission was not going to be finding an ailing professor and his young assistant on a desolate planet. It was going to be telling Obi-Wan he was not coming along.

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

Part Two

"But, Master, you need me. You can't do this alone."

Qui-Gon smiled at Obi-Wan who was sitting up in his bunk. Obi-Wan looked better than he had in days, but his complexion was still too pale and dark shadows lay under his eyes like half moons. Qui-Gon also noted that Obi-Wan’s fifteen-standards’ face, which had carried its boyhood roundness a bit longer than most his age, was starting to angle out. A man’s firmness was evident along the jaw line. Qui-Gon suspected, however, Obi-Wan would always look somewhat younger than his true age.

“Obi-Wan, I was handling missions by myself long before you were born.” Qui-Gon tilted his head and fixed Obi-Wan with an amused look. “What is it, my _young_ apprentice? Think I’m too old to do this alone?”

“No, of course not, Master. I just don’t want you to think I’m not able to hold my own. I’m not a baby. I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Ah,“ Qui-Gon said as he stood up from his chair, “but you do need rest and a period of intensive recuperation.”

He went over to the storage shelf near the cabin door and picked up the tray he had brought from the galley. It held a cup of steaming Corellian tea and a bowl of leafroot soup. He took the tray over to Obi-Wan. Ignoring his padawan’s scowl, Qui-Gon placed the tray in front of him.

“There will be no more discussion, Obi-Wan. I‘ve made my decision. I will go to Dyran and you will go on to Coruscant. I have already contacted Master Yoda and Master Windu. They’ll be waiting for you and will see to it personally that you rest and recover.”

Obi-Wan looked up with horror at Qui-Gon. “Master, I don’t need to be babysat!”

“They are not your babysitters, Obi-Wan. But they will see to it you rest.”

Qui-Gon raised his index finger and looked directly into Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“And I do mean rest, Obi-Wan,” he continued. “No lightsaber practice, no lectures on Jedi metaphysics, and no reading of anything heavier than the latest holonovel. I want you to relax. You still know how to do that, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan dipped his head and smiled slightly. “Of course I do, Master.”

“Good. When I see you again, I want you to be a hundred percent recovered. Now eat.”

Obi-Wan sighed and picked up his spoon. “I hate leafroot soup,” he murmured, but he lifted the spoon to his mouth and, under Qui-Gon’s watchful gaze, ate his soup.

Qui-Gon stood, turned, and reached for his utility belt in the alcove above his sleeping berth. He opened a pouch on it and took out a small golden stone. It was oval and speckled with shimmering dots of ebony.

Obi-Wan looked up. “What’s that, Master?”

“It’s a stone I found on Tamarii. When you return to the Temple, I want you to give it to Aalea.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan did not completely understand his Master’s interest in Aalea. Aalea was an eight year old initiate at the Temple. Like Obi-Wan she had lived there all her life. Qui-Gon had found her while on a mission. He had brought the abandoned baby back with him to the Temple where she had been tested and consequently admitted for training. Qui-Gon had named her Aalea.

As a result, she had become, in a sense, Qui-Gon’s special project. He always looked in on her when he was at the Temple and, two years ago, he had started bringing her stones from every world he visited.

Obi-Wan laid his spoon down and took the stone from Qui-Gon. He turned it around in his fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” Obi-Wan said, but Qui-Gon could hear the misgivings in his voice.

"Is there something wrong, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan looked over at him, his blue-gray eyes solemn. “Master, why do you want me to give it to Aalea? You can give it to her when you come back from the mission.”

“Indulge me, Obi-Wan. Give the stone to Aalea.” he said.

“Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan retrieved his utility belt from the alcove above his head and slipped the stone into one of its pouches.

To humor Obi-Wan and also because he truly valued his apprentice’s insights and opinions, Qui-Gon read aloud Professor Landru’s reports regarding his discovery on Dyran. Dyran was an isolated, desolate planet. It was not even officially part of the Republic. Located on the Frontier, the border line between Republic space and Wild space, Dyran was devoid of any sentient life forms. It possessed no valuable natural resources and had no strategic military or economic value.

In all honesty, Qui-Gon couldn’t imagine what had drawn the professor to the planet in the first place. However, Professor Landru and Cian had been on Dyran for three months and had apparently discovered some previously unknown ruins which dated back 4,000 years to the time of the Great Sith War when the forces of Light and Dark had battled for control of the Galaxy. Reports had been diligently sent back from the professor on a regular basis to the Archeological and Antiquity Consortium on Coruscant, the organization which was funding the dig, until about three weeks ago. Since then no word had been heard from the scholars.

Obi-Wan laid his spoon down next to his empty bowl.

“Ruins from the Great Sith War,” he said. “That sounds very exciting. I wonder what they found? Maybe a cache of Old Republic weapons? Or ancient Sith amulets?”

“I don’t know, but I find it quite interesting that Professor Landru was somewhat vague in his report regarding exactly what it was he did find.”

"Do you think something has happened to them, Master?”

“Dyran is a very inhospitable planet, Obi-Wan. And Professor Landru does suffer from Alvron’s Syndrome. I believe the Chancellor has reason to be concerned. However, I will remain optimistic that both the professor and his assistant are safe and there is some other explanation for the cessation of communications from Dyran.”

“What’s Alvron’s Syndrome, Master?”

“It’s a degenerative muscle disease. There is no known cure and those who are afflicted with it soon lose control over their body. However, the Chancellor said Professor Landru was only recently diagnosed. The disease takes years before it totally debilitates.”

“I hope he‘s all right." Obi-Wan picked up his spoon and twirled it through his fingers. "Master, do you think....?” Obi-Wan paused.

“Yes, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon prompted.

“Well, I’ve read all of Professor’s Landru’s works on the history of the Republic and the Jedi,” he began.

A small smiled crinkled Qui-Gon's lips. Obi-Wan had not merely read the professor's works. He had devoured them.

Obi-Wan laid his spoon down, his eyes dancing with excitement.

“My favorites are his greatest work, the Jedi/Sith Pentad. Do you think. Master, when you see him, could you ask him to sign some of them for me?”

"I doubt he‘ll have copies of his holo-books with him, Obi-Wan. This is a dig the professor is on."

Obi-Wan’s eyes dimmed. "Oh, yes, of course, I forgot."

"But, I'll see what I can do," Qui-Gon said and Obi-Wan’s eyes lit up instantly.

Obi-Wan had never had the pleasure or more accurately, Qui-Gon thought ruefully, the horror of meeting Professor Landru in person. Qui-Gon had, although only briefly, at a colloquium on Old Republic history he had attended some years back at the University of Coruscant. And, although Professor Landru possessed one of the most brilliant minds in the galaxy, he was also one of the most ill-humored and sour-tempered men Qui-Gon had ever met. He was a terror to his students and a thorn in the side to his colleagues.

Qui-Gon wasn’t sure if Landru would be offended or flattered by a request for his signature. But the way the mere thought of the professor’s signature had brought such joy to Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon decided Landru was going to sign something for Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon would see to that. Personally.

“Master, this assistant of the professor’s, Cian Nyal. Is she related to the late Senator Sydalli Nyal?" Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes, she’s his daughter.”

“Wasn’t he opposed to the involvement of the Jedi in the affairs of the Republic?”

Qui-Gon folded his arms and nodded. “Before his death, the senator tried many times to pass legislation that would have restricted the ability of the Senate and the Chancellor to call upon the services of our Order.”

“But why, Master? The Jedi have served the Republic for over a thousand generations. Why would he want to change that?”

Qui-Gon sighed. “The senator was part of a new generation of leaders who believed there should be a separation of the Republic from organizations he, and others, considered to be non-secular. The senator, you see, did not believe in the Force.”

Obi-Wan's eyes widened. “How can someone not believe in the Force, Master? It’s everywhere. I can feel it. All the time.”

“Yes, Obi-Wan, but for those who are not attuned to it as we are, it can be very difficult to believe in something they can not see or touch or feel. For people such as that, belief in the Force is more a matter of faith than of certainty.”

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment as he digested this. Qui-Gon knew that for Obi-Wan belief in the Force was as natural as drawing breath. The idea there were those who did not believe in it was difficult for him to comprehend.

“The irony of it all,” Qui-Gon continued, “is that when the Senator’s daughter, Cian, was born, it was discovered she possessed a very high midichlorian count. Jedi Representatives visited the Senator’s household to discuss the child’s coming to the Temple. The senator and his wife would not even receive them.”

Obi-Wan stared uncomprehendingly at Qui-Gon. “Her parents did not want her to be trained?”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Remember, the Senator did not believe in the Force and he and his wife were already well along in years when Cian was born. She would be the only child they would ever have.”

Obi-Wan frowned. “I guess I can understand why they wouldn’t want to give her up. But to deny her the chance, the opportunity....” Obi-Wan shook his head. “I don’t understand that at all.”

“It doesn’t happen often, Obi-Wan, but sometimes parents do refuse requests from the Temple to train their children to become Jedi. And we honor their decisions. Always.”

“But what happens to children like that?”

“Since it’s fairly rare children are not trained, it’s difficult to say. In some cases, over time, their Force abilities atrophy, the way a muscle in your body would if not properly exercised. Others learn to use their gifts on their own, albeit clumsily. In Cian’s case, I don’t know what the effect of not being trained has had on her. I will soon find out, I gather.”

"How do you think she'll feel about you being a Jedi?"

Qui-Gon frowned. The boy was full of questions today. But then, Qui-Gon asked himself, when wasn’t Obi-Wan full of questions. There were two constants about Obi-Wan which Qui-Gon had observed over the years. One was that he was always hungry and the other was he was always full of questions. Yet, the fact Obi-Wan was back to his old habit of asking questions was a welcome sign to Qui-Gon. It meant his padawan was starting to feel like his old self.

"I don't know how she'll feel, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon replied, “since I'm not Cian Nyal. Are you suggesting she might be resentful of my presence?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I just can't imagine not being a Jedi. I remember when I thought I was going to be a farmer. If I had become one, a farmer, I mean, I don’t think I would have wanted to be reminded of what I could have been."

"And if you had become a farmer, Obi-Wan, there would have been no shame in that. Providing food for others is an honorable way to be of service. But, regarding Cian, your situation was different from hers. You were raised in the Temple with the expectation of becoming a Jedi. Cian was not. She may not feel the same way."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I still can‘t imagine she wouldn‘t feel something. What else do you know about her, Master?”

“Hmmm, she must be about 22 standards now, and according to the Chancellor, she’s stubborn and headstrong.”

Obi-Wan blushed and Qui-Gon suspected Obi-Wan was recalling the many times Yoda had used those very words to rebuke Obi-Wan for some transgression. Even Qui-Gon himself had had to stand a number of times before Yoda and listen as the diminutive Jedi Master had complained about Obi-Wan.

“Reckless is he. Stubborn is he,” Yoda would scold.

And Qui-Gon, his arms folded within the sleeves of his robe, would always say quietly, “If you remember, so was I, Master.” And Yoda would always protest, pounding his staff on the floor.

“_Was_?” he would grumble incredulously. “No, Qui-Gon! Not _was_! Still!” Yoda would then shake his staff at Qui-Gon. “Stubborn are you! Reckless are you! That is where boy gets it! Hmmph!” And Yoda would turn away and shake his head, mumbling to himself.

Qui-Gon cleared his head of Yoda’s admonishments and glanced over at Obi-Wan, fixing him with a teasing glance. “Actually, Cian sounds a lot like someone I know.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “Then handling her should be no problem, Master. You’ve had plenty of practice.”

Qui-Gon’s heart warmed at the sound of Obi-Wan’s laughter. It had been weeks since he had heard it. He had feared the war-mages’ attempts to bend Obi-Wan’s mind and turn him against Qui-Gon had ripped something apart inside his apprentice’s soul. Even though Qui-Gon knew he would miss Obi-Wan‘s presence at his side, he also knew that he had made the right decision. Obi-Wan would return home and regain his strength and Qui-Gon would go to Dyran to find Professor Landru and his assistant. He was sure it would be a run-of-the-mill mission.

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

Part Three

Qui-Gon turned around as he assessed the state of Professor Landru’s base camp. It appeared deserted. He saw only a couple of living huts, a storage shed and some equipment he assumed was for digging.

The wind blew fiercely about him. Sand stung his eyes and dust tickled his nose and mouth. Reaching up, he pulled his goggles over his eyes and drew the hood of his robe about his head. He shrugged his haversack more firmly onto his shoulder and walked slowly through the camp.

Qui-Gon stopped at the larger of the two living huts. He peeled back the opening and stepped inside. It looked like no one had been inside for weeks. Sand covered everything: a sleeping cot, shelving, a small desk, datapads, food containers.

He left the hut and stepped back outside. The wind howled around him and dust skittered across the blood red sky. He gazed out across the empty, barren landscape to where a line of black mountains stretched away to the south

Qui-Gon searched through the flying dust for any sign of life. As he glanced to his right he spotted a droid. He walked over towards it. It was leaning against the side of the storage shed. Sand was caked all over its metal covering.

Qui-Gon peered around the droid as he searched for the control with which to turn it on. He found it at the base of its neck. He pressed it. The droid wobbled to attention, its prismatic eyes glowing as it stared back at Qui-Gon.

“Why, hello, honored sir. I am D4G4, at your service. How may I help you?”

“Where are Professor Landru and his assistant?”

“Who, sir?”

“Professor Kom Landru and his assistant, Cian Nyal. Where are they?”

“Why, I do not know, honored sir, especially since I have no idea whom you are talking about.”

“Aren’t you a member of their expedition?”

“I do not know anything about an expedition, honored sir, but I am assigned to the Archeological and Antiquity Consortium.”

“And what do you do for them?”

“I do not remember, honored sir. Is there anything else I may assist you with?”

Qui-Gon decided something must be wrong with the droid. Looking closely he could see deep indentations alongside its head casing. He sighed. This was getting him nowhere. He turned around. He would have to go back to the huts and start looking through them for any clues as to what had happened to the professor and his assistant.

Qui-Gon walked back through the wind towards the huts. The droid did not follow him and Qui-Gon decided to leave it where he had found it. It wasn’t going to be much help to him in its present condition anyway.

Qui-Gon entered the smaller of the two huts since he had already looked in the larger one. Once inside he pulled his goggles down and pushed back his hood. He lowered his haversack to the floor and, as he did so, spotted a small box on the cot to his right. He knelt to open it.

Suddenly, Qui-Gon felt the cold kiss of a blaster muzzle against the side of his neck. His heart thudded. Not only had he not heard anyone come in, he hadn’t _felt_ anyone. His peripheral vision noted a blur of brown and black to his right. He slowly moved his hand towards the lightsaber on his utility belt.

“Move one more inch and I’ll blow your brains out of your skull,” a distorted voice growled at him.

Qui-Gon froze.

“Stand up,” the voice commanded. “Slowly.”

Qui-Gon slowly stood. The blaster was still pressed against him but he noted that whoever was holding it had to reach up to keep it against his neck.

The blaster was then pulled away from his neck but Qui-Gon suspected it was now probably aimed at an even more strategic part of his anatomy.

“Now, turn around. Slowly. And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Qui-Gon turned around. A small figure stood before him clad in a black cloak, brown pants and black knee high boots. A metal mask covered its face and the cloak's hood was pulled over its head. The blaster was leveled up at Qui-Gon’s face.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the figure asked.

Qui-Gon couldn’t tell if it was male or female. Its voice was distorted by the mask.

“My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I’m looking for Professor Kom Landru and his assistant, Cian Nyal.”

The blaster did not waver. “What do you want with them?”

“Only to see if they‘re all right. I was sent here by the Republic. I found the camp deserted. I was hoping to discover some clue as to what had happened to them in here.”

The figure gestured towards Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. “Where did you get that?”

“It’s mine.”

“You’re a Jedi.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, I am,” he said quietly.

The figure finally lowered the blaster and put it in the holster on its leg. Reaching up it pulled off its mask.

A young woman stared back at Qui-Gon. A quiet oval face, rather delicate with a temptingly curved lush mouth. Smooth skin with pale gold undertones. Large dark gray eyes. Cian Nyal. Qui-Gon recognized her from her holoimages.

Qui-Gon bowed slightly to her. “Mistress Nyal.”

She inclined her head, but her eyes were still suspicious. “How did you get here?”

“I was left here by the Republic Cruiser _Alliance_. The Chancellor sent me to Dyran to find out why communications from you and the professor had ceased.”

Cian shrugged back her hood. Her bronze-colored hair was pulled back in a tight braid. She moved past Qui-Gon and picked up the box he had almost opened.

“I didn’t know the Jedi were so nosy,” she said with a sharp glance over at him.

“I didn’t mean to go through your things, Mistress Nyal. I was only looking for something that would explain why no one was here.”

Cian held the box in her hands for a moment. She lifted the lid and Qui-Gon could see it was a holographic music box. The image of an Iego angel danced as a gentle, poignant tune played. Cian listened to it for a moment than closed it and slipped it inside her cloak.

“Where is Professor Landru?” Qui-Gon asked.

Cian jerked her head towards the left. “He’s back at the site. I came here to get batteries for our lamps.”

“How is the professor?”

Cian’s eyes hardened at the question.

“He’s fine,” she said firmly.

“I’d like to see that for myself.”

Cian stared at him for a long moment, her gray eyes narrowed. She finally came to some decision, and not a pleasant one, for she frowned, shrugged her shoulders, then sighed heavily.

“I don't think there's anything I can do to stop you," she said. "Well, you can at least help me carry the batteries back to the site.”

She turned and went out of the hut. Qui-Gon followed her as she walked towards the supply shed where the droid was still leaning against the side. Before they went into the shed, Qui-Gon gestured towards the droid.

“What happened to your droid?”

Cian stopped and glanced over at it. A strange expression came over her face.

“It was damaged.”

Qui-Gon tried to keep his annoyance at the obviousness of her observation out of his voice.

“I can see it was damaged. How was it damaged? There are indentations alongside the head casing.” He pointed to them.

Cian shook her head. “I don’t know."

At the sound of Cian's voice the droid swiveled its head towards her. Before it could say a word, Cian reached over and turned it off. It sagged back against the shed.

Cian then glanced at Qui-Gon as if waiting for some note of objection from him. He decided to offer none for the time being. She nodded.

"Now, come on, Master Jinn. I want to get back to the site before nightfall.”

She went into the storage shed. Qui-Gon gazed thoughtfully after her. She was lying about the droid. He could feel it. He rubbed his beard. What was going on here? He followed her into the shed.

---------------------------
Qui-Gon hefted the pack with the batteries onto his shoulders. Since the batteries were heavier than his haversack, he had given that to Cian to carry. She had put her mask back on. She waited while he adjusted the straps.

He nodded at her. “I’m ready.”

“We’ll have to hurry,” Cian said, her eyes bright with what Qui-Gon could see was fear. “We don’t want to be caught outside after dark.”

Before he could ask her why, she was already walking swiftly away from him. He glanced one more time at the droid where it lay against the storage shed, then quickly followed Cian towards the darkening line of mountains south of the camp.

--------

The wind ripped at Cian’s cloak and blasted against her mask. She glanced back. The big Jedi was right behind her, the wind whipping his robe about him, his long strides keeping pace with her hurried ones. She couldn’t see his face for he had put his goggles back on and had wrapped a scarf she had given him about his mouth. But she remembered it clearly, for it had been a striking face: a wide, strong brow; piercing blue eyes; brown shoulder-length hair; slightly graying beard and the small knot of bone which interrupted the straight line of his nose. Broken, definitely, but then he was a Jedi. He had probably been in many battles.

A small smile crinkled Cian’s lips as she recalled how she had surprised him when she had caught him riffling through her belongings. She hadn’t known he was a Jedi when she had discovered him in her hut. She had thought he was just some thief who had stumbled onto their camp. Her little trick of masking her presence was something which always worked with ordinary beings, so she had used it when she had entered the hut. But that it had also worked on a Jedi was very interesting to her.

She glanced back at him and her thoughts returned as to why he was on Dyran. He’d been sent to check up on them, he‘d said. Sent by that meddling Consortium, Cian imagined. She frowned. Professor Landru was not going to be happy about this Qui-Gon Jinn person at all. Not one bit.

She swallowed heavily and a wave of apprehension swept through her. She was not looking forward to arriving at the site with their uninvited guest. The Jedi was already suspicious and, short of shooting him with her blaster, there wasn’t much she could have done to prevent him from coming to the site.

Cian prayed that Professor Landru behaved himself. Once the Jedi was satisfied everything was fine, he would leave--she hoped--and she and the professor could continue their work undisturbed. _Please let Professor Landru be all right when we arrive_, she thought.

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

Qui-Gon followed the slight figure of Cian as she quickly made her way toward the dark line of mountains. He was still mulling over how she had snuck up on him in the hut. It was as if she had thrown a Force shield about her which had voided her presence. And what was most intriguing was that her little trick was one only someone who was Jedi-trained could have done. Yet, he knew she had not been trained. Or at least not at the Temple. So where had she learned to do it?

He looked ahead and saw that Cian was making her way towards a series of caves in the mountain‘s side. She veered towards one of the smaller ones. The sun had not yet set, but Qui-Gon could see that only a thin sliver of light remained along the horizon.

Suddenly, Cian started running towards the cave’s entrance. Qui-Gon increased his speed and caught up with her. They entered the cave together. Cian stopped just short of the entrance. She quickly reached towards a tall silver rod at the side of the wall. An energy shield shimmered across the entrance.

Qui-Gon pulled his scarf from his mouth.

“What were you afraid of? What’s out there?” he asked.

Cian only shook her head at him, her face still hidden behind the mask. She quickly turned away and walked deeper into the cave. Qui-Gon saw that a line of glow rods had been inserted at intervals alongside the walls of the tunnel she was entering. He followed her.

He would be patient for now, he decided, but he was determined to get some answers to his questions. Something was not right here. And it wasn’t just that Cian was obviously lying about how their droid had come to be damaged or that she was deliberately avoiding his questions about Professor Landru‘s condition. He could feel a faint but definite disturbance in the Force and it sent a shiver of unease through him.

------

Qui-Gon followed Cian through the tunnel. At its end was a large entrance which led into a huge cavern. He stepped inside, stopped and caught his breath.

A vast temple filled the cavern. It was pyramidal in shape and comprised of huge blocks of a glossy black stone. It towered over the floor of the cavern, the apex of it just touching the high ceiling.

Cian moved away from Qui-Gon towards the center of the cavern. She headed towards a smaller version of the base camp which was located near the entrance of the temple. Qui-Gon hesitated for a moment as he gazed at the huge edifice, then quickly followed her.

As he made his way towards the camp, he noted the air in the cavern was cold and musty. He could also hear the sound of running water and sharp, strange echoes as if small pieces of rocks were falling somewhere.

Cian had laid Qui-Gon’s haversack on the ground. She then removed her mask, took off her cloak and put them all on a small table near the tents.

Qui-Gon shrugged the pack of batteries from his shoulders and lowered it to the floor. He took off his goggles and, drawing back his hood, looked around.

“Where’s Professor Landru?” he asked.

Cian glanced around. “He’s probably in one of the inner chambers. We’ve explored quite a bit of this place.”

“It looks like an ancient Sith temple.”

Cian nodded. “That's exactly what it is. Fantastic, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,“ Qui-Gon agreed. “However, I don’t think it’s wise for you and the professor to be exploring it without the assistance of Jedi Masters."

Cian bristled at his words. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice sharp, her dark gray eyes narrowed. “We’re capable.”

“I meant no disrespect, Mistress Nyal, but to delve into matters of the Sith without the aid of specially trained Jedi could be extremely dangerous.”

“I assure you we’re being very careful.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. He would pursue this matter later with both her and the professor.

“I would like to see Professor Landru now.”

“Yes, of course.” Cian turned around and called out Landru's name. Her voice echoed eerily off the walls. There was no answer. Cian called again.

“Perhaps we should go look for him,” Qui-Gon suggested.

Cian called out again.

“You can stop all that shouting, Cian,” a voice said from behind them.

They both turned.

Professor Landru walked towards them from the temple‘s entrance. He was a white-haired man with watery green eyes. He was coughing and Qui-Gon could see he was also terribly pale.

Landru glared up at Qui-Gon. “Who the hell are you?”

Cian stepped in front of Qui-Gon before he could answer.

“Professor, this is Master Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi Knight. He’s been sent by the Republic to see how we’re doing.”

“We’re doing fine,” the professor snarled. He gave Qui-Gon a withering stare, his green eyes blazing with barely suppressed fury. “Now, go back where you came from!”

Qui-Gon moved quickly around Cian.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Professor," he said. "I was sent here because the Chancellor is worried. He knows about your illness. And from what I can see I think it best if you and Mistress Nyal returned with me to Coruscant.”

“Nonsense!” the professor shouted. Veins stood out on his neck in livid ridges. “I’m fine! You have no right being here. No right! I insist that you leave immediately.”

A coughing fit overtook him and he bent over double.

Qui-Gon reached out to him, but the professor danced nimbly away.

“Don’t touch me!” he screamed.

Cian ran over to him and gently took his arm.

“Professor Landru, please, don’t upset yourself. I’m sure once Master Jinn has heard what we’re doing here, he'll understand the importance of our work and leave us in peace.”

The professor turned a cold eye on Qui-Gon.

“He doesn’t understand anything. He’s a _Jedi_,” he sneered. In Landru’s mouth the word sounded like a curse.

Cian gently pulled Landru towards his tent.

“Please, Professor,” she begged. “Come away. It’s been a long day and you must get your rest.”

Landru continued to glare at Qui-Gon as Cian lead him away to his tent. She remained inside with him for some time.

Qui-Gon took off his robe and sat down. The professor was obviously very ill, sicker than even the Chancellor had feared. And Qui-Gon was not at all comfortable with the two of them puttering about a Sith temple. Once he returned to the Republic he would contact the Jedi Council and inform them of the discovery. A team of Jedi Investigators, well versed in Sith lore, would be sent to oversee the excavation.

Cian came out of Landru’s tent. She sat across from Qui-Gon.

“He’s very ill,” Qui-Gon stated.

“He’s just tired.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, his expression grave.

“You know he’s been diagnosed with Alvron’s Syndrome?”

Cian nodded with a taut jerk of her head.

“The two of you must not remain here. It’s not safe.”

“You don’t understand,” Cian said. She looked at him, her eyes pleading. “This is the professor’s last chance. His one opportunity for a final legacy, before....” Her voice broke and she looked away to compose herself.

She turned back to Qui-Gon, her gray eyes determined.

“You can’t take him away before he’s completed his work here.”

Qui-Gon spoke quietly, but firmly. “The professor will receive full credit for his discovery. But what’s important now is his health and safety. And yours.”

“He won’t listen to you,” she warned.

“Then I’ll just have to carry him.”

“I won’t be a part of this.”

“You have no choice,” Qui-Gon said. “This expedition is under the jurisdiction of the Archeological and Antiquity Consortium and the AAC is under the jurisdiction of the Chancellor’s office. As a representative of the Chancellor, my word is the final one here.”

Cian sighed heavily. She looked away from Qui-Gon towards Landru‘s tent.

"It will break his heart," she whispered.

“And I'm truly sorry, but I've made my decision," Qui-Gon said. "We’ll leave for base camp in the morning and contact the Republic. It will take about five days for transport to arrive.”

Cian only shrugged, her eyes downcast.

Qui-Gon opened his haversack and pulled out his rations. “Are you hungry?”

Cian lifted her eyes. "Yes, a little."

As Qui-Gon quickly prepared the rations, he asked her what she had been so afraid of outside.

She said nothing for awhile. He waited.

“You’ll laugh,” she said finally.

“No, I won’t,” he assured her.

“Ghosts.”

“Ghosts?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know how else to describe what happened. One night, about a week ago, I was late returning from the base camp. I could feel something watching me, following me. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel it, in the darkness, waiting, hungry.” She stopped and shook her head. “I told you it was silly.”

“It’s not silly. I’ve felt something ever since I arrived on this planet. A disturbance in the Force. More than likely that was what you felt also.”

Cian shook her head. “I don’t believe in the Force.”

“But you believe in ghosts?” Qui-Gon countered.

“I don’t believe in them either,” Cian said hotly. “I just don't know what else to call what happened. I’m sure there’s some logical explanation for it.” She shot him a withering glance. “It was probably just some wild animal.”

Qui-Gon said nothing, but he was certain that what Cian had sensed had not been a wild animal. But he could not make her believe what she did not wish to believe.

------

Landru lay on his cot in his tent. He could hear Cian and that cursed Jedi talking. But he wasn’t listening to them. He was listening to that other voice, the one which had started speaking to him two weeks ago. That was the day he had found the Sith artifacts.

He had been alone in one of the inner chambers where, quite by accident, he had found a sarcophagus hidden behind the chamber‘s altar.

Pushing aside the sarcophagus’ lid he had found within it a talisman and some scrolls. As he lifted the artifacts out of the crypt, his first thought had been to call Cian and share the discovery with her, but a small, cold Voice had hissed in his mind _/Do not call her/_.

Instead, Landru had shoved the talisman and scrolls inside his tunic and taken them to his tent. He had kept them hidden the rest of the day. That night, when Cian was asleep, he had pored over the scrolls. And as he had done so, the Voice in his mind had grown louder and stronger.

The Voice had aided him in translating and reading all of the scrolls. Landru had soon realized that what he had discovered were ancient Sith spells and the talisman was a very powerful Sith amulet.

The following week the Voice had instructed Landru to try one of the smaller spells in the scroll. He had done so, softly chanting the words as his hand clasped the amulet. Soon Landru had sensed the creature he and the Voice had created roaming through the blasted landscape of the night.

Later, Landru had quickly chanted the spell which would dissolve the creature, but the damage had been done for that was the night Cian had been late returning from the base camp.

She had run in from the tunnel, her face drawn and pale, her eyes wide and bright. She hadn’t told Landru what had happened to her but the Voice inside him had chortled.

A few days later Cian had gone back to the camp for more supplies and, upon her return, had reported to Landru something had attacked the droid they had left at the camp.

Maybe it was some kind of wild animal, she had said, but the look in her eyes told Landru she thought otherwise. She had started wearing her blaster everywhere she went. The Voice had laughed even louder at that.

Now, as Landru lay on his cot, the Voice inside him was no longer laughing. It was screaming and gibbering. It was crying for blood, the blood of the Jedi. For the sight of the Jedi had sent the Voice inside Landru spinning into a paroxysm of rage. Landru trembled on his cot as the Voice thundered inside his head.

_/VENGEANCE/ /VENGEANCE/ /VENGEANCE/_

Landru shuddered, the pain in his head like a long drawn out scream. The Voice commanded Landru to retrieve the amulet and the scrolls from under the cot where he had hidden them. He did as he was told.

The Voice roared in his mind. _/READ IT! /READ THE SPELL!/_

Landru trembled. He knew which spell the Voice wanted him to read. It was a spell of possession.

“No,“ he moaned, “I won‘t do it.”

_/READ! READ!/_

Then pain---red, hot and sharp---whipped through Landru’s mind. He groaned and doubled over. He nearly vomited, the pain was so bad. Another wave of agony swept through him. Shuddering, he tumbled to his knees. Then, with trembling fingers, he slowly unrolled the scroll and searched for the spell of possession. When he finally found it, Landru had been clutching the talisman in his hand so tightly its edges had cut into his palm. Blood welled through his fingers.

_/READ!/_ the Voice roared. Agony lashed through Landru’s mind. He sobbed, spittle running down his quivering chin.

His voice breaking, Landru read the ancient words. The Sith amulet pulsed and burned against his palm. A dark wind began to blow through his mind. Harsh and foul it tore at his soul.

_NO!_ Landru screamed silently for the Voice inside him would not let him speak. The professor could feel his soul being slowly ripped apart, torn into quivering, bloody pieces.

_Help me! Cian! Oh, gods! Help me!_ he wailed silently.

_/TOO LATE! TOO LATE!/_ The Voice inside Landru crowed in triumph. _/I LIVE! I LIVE!/_

And Malus Var, Lord of the Sith, was reborn, and Kom Landru, once holder of the Austian Chair of History at Alderaan University, was no more.

----------------
Part Four

Malus Var, Lord of the Sith and Liege-Mage of the Dyran system, lay on the floor of Landru’s tent. It had been 4,000 years since he last felt air in his lungs and blood surging through his veins. He gasped and took a deep breath. The air he drew into his lungs was musty and cold. He moved his arms and legs. The ground was hard and gritty against his skin. But he reveled in it. _Alive. I am alive_.

He sat up and began to take stock of the body he now possessed. He ground his teeth in frustration. Not only was this body old, it was diseased. Weak. Crippled. He could access the Force but only faintly, for the body did not possess the natural ability to channel it. Only the strength of Malus’ will allowed him to draw what little power he could from the Dark Side. Malus shook with impotent rage. This body was pathetic, he thought angrily. He stood slowly. His legs trembled beneath him.

_Weak old fool_. The professor had been so easy to control, even from beyond the Veil, but this decrepit body of his would serve Malus only for a brief time.

Malus moved silently to the front of the tent and peered through a small tear in the fabric. His blood surged with rage at the sight of the Jedi. It had been Jedi Masters of 4,000 years ago who had imprisoned Malus’ spirit in the amulet. A fitting punishment, they had deemed, for his crimes. Not for him the sweet oblivion of death. No, his enemies had wanted him to suffer and suffered he had, for 4,000 years, mindful of each and every agonizing second which had passed as his spirit lay trapped in the amulet. Malus’ fury nearly blinded him as he stared at the Jedi.

Mindful, though, of how vulnerable he was in this wreck of a body, Malus quickly shielded his presence. He considered for a moment stealing the Jedi’s body, but knew it would be impossible to control for any length of time. The Jedi’s spirit would oppose him even unto death.

Malus’ eyes shifted to the female as she came out of her tent. He lightly swept his awareness over her. Ah, he sighed. This was too good to be true. Not only was the female young and healthy, she was also very strong with the Force. And, best of all, she possessed none of the Jedi’s defenses nor strengths. He suspected she had not even been trained.

Malus smiled wickedly and the eyes he now possessed, which once had been as green as summer leaves, but were now as red and dark as dried blood, glittered with eagerness. Once he had possession of the female’s body he would finally leave this planet which had been his prison for the last 4,000 years. But first he had to rid himself of the accursed Jedi.

Malus looked back at the Jedi. He was large and powerfully built and in this weak, sickly body Malus knew he was no match for him. Malus needed a weapon. But not just any weapon.

He slowly licked his lips. Yes, the Jedi deserved a very special kind of weapon and Malus knew just where to find it. Neither the professor nor the female had discovered his private chambers deep in the heart of the temple.

Malus moved to the rear of the tent. As he passed the cot he picked up the scrolls and the amulet and shoved them inside his tunic. Then he stealthily lifted the back cover of the tent and scurried under it. Once outside, he kept to the shadows along the cavern wall, slipping unnoticed past the Jedi and the female. With a last glance to ensure he had not been seen, Malus darted into the temple.

------

Cian came out of her tent with a blanket. While she had been talking to Qui-Gon the cavern had gotten colder. She stopped at the sight of the big Jedi bent over the ground, methodically picking up one stone after another, examining them carefully and then laying them down.

“What are you doing?” she asked as she walked over to him.

Qui-Gon didn’t look at her as continued to examine the stones. “I’m looking for stones.”

Cian blew out an exasperated breath. She sat down and wrapped herself in the blanket.

“I can see you‘re looking for stones. I suppose the better question is, _why_ are you looking for stones?”

Qui-Gon picked up another stone, held it briefly in his hand, then set it down. He looked over at her.

“I’m looking for a keepsake.”

“A keepsake?”

“Yes, but not for me. For a little girl. She’s an initiate at the temple. I bring her a stone from every world I visit.”

“I see. Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s between Aalea and me.”

“Really?” Cian said airily. “How terribly nice for the both of you.”

Qui-Gon’s brows drew down and his mouth tightened.

Cian sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being rude and I don’t mean to be. I think it’s very sweet actually. Is that her name, Aalea? That’s a pretty name. She must have quite a collection.”

A small smile ruffled Qui-Gon‘s mouth. He picked up another stone, rubbed it thoughtfully. “She does at that.”

“What is she like? How old is she?”

Qui-Gon laid the stone down. He moved closer to Cian and sat.

“She’s eight. A tiny thing, smaller than most children her age.”

His voice was distant and tender as he continued to speak.

“Black hair, like the dark between the stars. Violet eyes. The color of a Jaharan rose. She’s....” Qui-Gon stopped.

“Yes?” Cian prompted him.

“She’s special,” he finished.

“Is she your padawan?”

Qui-Gon glanced at her, his brows rising in surprise.

Cian smiled. “I know some things about the Jedi, Master Jinn. My father might have been a bit fanatical in his views regarding your Order, but I’m not completely ignorant of your practices.”

Qui-Gon dipped his head to her. “My apologies, Mistress Nyal. No, Aalea isn’t my padawan. My padawan’s name is Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s 15.”

“And what is he like?” Cian asked

A small smile played about Qui-Gon‘s mouth. “Dedicated, but stubborn. Brave, but reckless. Compassionate, but opinionated. He‘s also a very great admirer of the professor. Obi-Wan has read _all_ of the professor’s works on the history of the Jedi and the Old Republic. Actually, he was hoping I could get Professor Landru to sign something for him.”

“Why didn’t he come with you? Aren’t padawans supposed to accompany their Masters?

“He was injured on our last mission. I sent him ahead to Coruscant to recover.”

“He means a lot to you, doesn‘t he?”

Qui-Gon said nothing at first, then he looked at her, his eyes warm.

“Yes, he does.”

Cian nodded. “It‘s hard to be away from someone you care about.”

Then she gazed silently over at him with her dark gray eyes and, as Qui-Gon looked back at her, he found his eyes lingering on her lush full lips. For a moment a vaguely erotic current passed between the two of them.

Qui-Gon looked down quickly. Cian was very lovely, that he could not deny, but he was on a mission and his first duty was to see to her and the professor’s safety. He picked up another stone and turned it slowly in his hand.

“Cian,” he said, “how did you mask your presence from me in the hut at the base camp?”

Cian jumped at the change in the conversation. Her eyes hardened as she stared at him, her face suddenly tight and wary. She didn’t answer right away. Again, she studied him with that narrow-eyed look, almost as if she were trying to see inside his soul before she responded.

“I’ve known how to do it since I was a child,” she said finally. “Made me quite unpopular at the seeking and hiding games.”

“But who taught you?”

“No one. I just thought about doing it one day and I did it.”

Qui-Gon digested this.

“What else can you do?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she said, her voice sharp with suspicion.

“Cian, there’s no reason for you to fear me. I’m just curious.”

Cian sighed. “I can heal too. But only small animals, birds and such.” She glanced down. “I kept it a secret, though. I never told anyone.”

She looked back up at him. “And I don’t even know why I’m telling you. Why do you want to know anyway?”

“It’s just unusual for someone who hasn’t been trained to do the things you do.”

Cian frowned. She plucked at the edge of her blanket.

“Papa told me how you Jedi came to see him and Mama when I was a baby. He said the Jedi wanted to take me away but he wouldn‘t let them.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Cian, no one would have taken you away unless your parents agreed to it. A request was made by the Order to train you. That is all. You have a natural gift. Such children are sought out by our Order, but they are never forcibly taken away from their families.”

“I don’t believe in the Force, you know,” she said suddenly, her voice rising.

“But you feel it, don’t you?” Qui-Gon asked gently.

Cian looked across at him, her eyes full of uncertainty and confusion.

“No,” she finally whispered. “I do not.”

Qui-Gon sighed. “Cian...” Then he stopped. He decided to drop the subject for the time being.

“Why did you and the professor stop sending reports to the AAC?” he asked instead.

Cian visibly relaxed at the shift in the conversation.

“The professor told me to stop. He was quite adamant about it.”

“And you didn’t question him on it?”

Cian yawned. “No. We were so busy once we found the temple, it wasn’t as if we had time to send regular reports.”

“You should get some sleep,” Qui-Gon said.

Cian nodded. She glanced at his haversack. “Do you need a blanket or anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Good night, Cian.”

“Good night, Master Jinn.”

Cian entered her tent and sealed the opening. Qui-Gon spread his robe on the ground, but he was nowhere near ready for sleep. He opened his haversack and took his journal and stylus out of it.

-------

Cian lay on her cot. Thoughts whirled in her head. The Force. The Jedi. Qui-Gon. She thought about the little girl, Aalea, and Qui-Gon’s apprentice, Obi-Wan, and she wondered what her life would have been like if she had been allowed to go to the Jedi Temple.

She found herself thinking about how, when she was a very little girl, she used to lie on the grassy banks of the river near her parent’s estate and let that bright, silvery energy for which she had had no name flow through her. It had felt to her as if everything that surrounded her; the river, the grass, the wind, the world and the sky which arched above her, had been a part of her. But, as she had grown older she had suppressed that part of herself. Her parents did not believe in the Force and, since she was her parents’ child, neither did she.

Cian frowned in the dark. To be honest she didn’t see what difference it would have made to her parents where she had been raised. For they’d scarcely been around when she was a child. They’d always been traveling and, even when they had been home, hadn’t spent much time with her. She had been raised by a nursemaid and the servants.

Then Cian’s parents had died in that terrible starliner accident near Primus IV and she had lived for a time in Valorum’s household. Her parents had left her enough money so that she was able to attend Alderaan University when she was old enough. There she had met Professor Landru.

She had attended one of his lectures on Jedi artifacts and was instantly hooked. She took every class he offered and read all his works. Upon entering graduate studies, she immediately applied for a position as his assistant. And, although she knew he was perceived by most as a difficult man, he had always treated her with a consistent, if distracted, kindness.

It was while doing research for the professor’s latest work that Cian came across the obscure reference to Dyran and the possibility the planet had once been the site of a Jedi outpost during the Great Sith War. The professor’s eyes had lit up when he saw the reference. He immediately requested funding from the AAC for a dig. It was granted and soon after he and Cian left for Dyran. It wasn’t until after they arrived that Landru confessed to Cian he was ill.

They began their work but, instead of a Jedi outpost, three weeks ago they had found the Sith temple. Their exploration of the temple had went well and then, about two weeks ago, the professor had begun to act strangely. Cian had thought it was just his illness, but that was also when she started having those strange, scary feelings; what Qui-Gon described as a disturbance in the Force.

Cian reached over and pulled her music box from the pocket inside her cloak. It was the only gift her parents had given her which she still owned. All the other perfunctory presents which had been delivered to her from whatever planetary system her parents had been visiting Cian had given away to orphanages after her parents had died.

She slowly opened the box and watched as the holographic angel from the moons of Iego danced and spun. She listened to the gentle, familiar music as it played over and over. Then Cian shivered as a feeling of dread quickly stole over her.

She closed the music box, shoving it back inside her cloak. The music didn’t soothe her like it usually did. She couldn’t shake that horrible, persistent feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Cian fiercely shook her head. No, there was no such thing as the Force and most certainly no such thing as a _disturbance_ in the Force. The Jedi was wrong. Cian drew her blanket over her head and tightly closed her eyes. _I don’t sense anything. Not a thing_.

----------------------------
Part Five

Qui-Gon had been writing in his journal for some time, but even that could not dispel his growing sense of unease. The disturbance he felt in the Force was swelling. It was still hazy, however, slippery and nebulous and, just when he thought he knew where and what the danger was, the knowledge slid away from his awareness like a mist. He sighed and put his journal back into the haversack.

Earlier he had heard Cian’s music box playing. He had been tempted to go to her and reassure her he had meant no harm, for he knew their conversation regarding her Force abilities had upset her. But he sensed she would merely rebuff any attempts on his part to soothe her anxiety. She was as stubborn as Obi-Wan, he thought.

He had not meant to distress her with his questions; he had just been surprised at what she had accomplished. It was quite unprecedented. Her inherent Force abilities coupled with her own natural intelligence and strength of will had helped her to achieve much on her own. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of Jedi she would have made if properly trained. A remarkable one, he imagined. Professor Landru was lucky to have her as his assistant. As he thought about Landru, Qui-Gon felt a sudden urge to check on him.

He got up and walked over to Landru's tent and quietly peeled the entrance open. Looking in he saw that the professor's cot was empty. Qui-Gon stepped quickly inside and, looking around, noted that Landru had crawled out the rear of the tent.

Qui-Gon went back outside the tent. The cavern was huge. The professor could be anywhere. Qui-Gon picked up his robe, put it on, then made sure his lightsaber was fastened securely to his belt.

He glanced at Cian’s tent. He would not wake her. He would find Landru on his own and bring him back to camp. Then, if Qui-Gon had to tie him down until morning, he would do so. Whether the professor liked it or not, he and Cian were leaving this planet.

Qui-Gon went around to the back of the professor’s tent. He saw that Landru had deliberately kept to the shadows and gone into the temple. Qui-Gon followed his trail.

-----

Qui-Gon stopped. He had followed Landru’s track to this cul-de-sac deep inside the temple, but now there was no sign of where the professor had gone.

It was very dark. Qui-Gon was tempted to light one of the small glow rods he carried in his utility belt, but the Force warned him not to give away his position. He tensed. His senses were on high alert. Something was not right here. But what?

Qui-Gon unclipped his lightsaber. He held it in his hands, but did not ignite it. He turned around slowly. His Force sense was screaming: Danger! But from where, from whom? Shadows seem to shift and swell about him. The air abruptly grew cold.

Suddenly one of the shadows launched itself from the wall. Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber and spun away from it. The shadow turned and leapt at him again. Qui-Gon raised his lightsaber and was about to strike the figure down when he saw by the blade’s green glow that it was Professor Landru.

Qui-Gon pulled sharply back on his downward swing and that was when Landru darted forward and stabbed him.

Pain exploded along Qui-Gon’s side. Landru pulled the dagger out of him and leapt back. Qui-Gon saw Landru’s eyes were no longer green. They were dark red. Qui-Gon’s left side went numb and blood flowed from the wound. He could barely hold on to his lightsaber. Landru watched him, his ruby colored eyes glittering with blood lust.

He darted forward again, the dagger he held in his hand aimed at Qui-Gon’s heart, but Qui-Gon was able to strike Landru a glancing blow on the wrist with his lightsaber.

Landru screamed as the blade sizzled against his skin. He dropped the dagger, turned and scurried away into the darkness.

Qui-Gon dropped to his knees. He looked down at the dagger. It was an ancient Sith blade. He had seen one in the museum at the Jedi Temple. They were usually poisoned. His head spun, but he forced himself to stand. He took a few steps, then sagged heavily against the wall.

Qui-Gon knew that had to get back to the camp and protect Cian from the creature which now resided inside what had once been Professor Landru. For when Landru attacked him, Qui-Gon had felt the shields dropping in the professor’s mind and he knew that what was now inside Landru was a creature of the Dark Side. _Possession_. An evil practice of the ancient Sith magicians. He and Cian were in great danger.

Slowly, Qui-Gon retraced his steps back toward the temple’s entrance. He could feel the Sith poison spreading rapidly through his body. He stumbled down the passageway. He wasn’t going to make it. He slid slowly down the wall. There was only one thing left to do. He concentrated on the Force.

/Cian/ /Hear me/ /Cian/

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

Obi-Wan shuddered awake.

“Master!” he cried.

He looked around. Obi-Wan was alone in his room in his and Qui-Gon’s quarters in the Jedi Temple. He had been having another bad dream. Although the Healers had been working diligently with him the past few days to help heal the Force induced traumas inflicted on him by the war-mages, he still experienced some nightmares.

Obi-Wan took a deep cleansing breath. He meditated for a moment and soon his heart stopped its maddened beating. He didn’t think he’d be able to go back to sleep, so he decided to make some tea and read for a while. He went into the common area and through that into the kitchen. He had just finished brewing the pot of tea when the front door chimed.

Obi-Wan went over to it. He pressed open the door and, looking down, saw Aalea Ve‘Red standing in the hall.

For a moment Obi-Wan was startled. Although he knew Aalea and Qui-Gon were close, Obi-Wan had managed to keep his distance from the tiny eight-year old. It wasn’t that he disliked her. The truth was Obi-Wan thought Aalea was the most beautiful child he had ever seen with her heart-shaped face, night black hair and large violet eyes framed by long thick lashes. But it was her eyes, he’d decided one day, which troubled him for they were the eyes of a woman in the face of a little girl.

“Is Master Qui-Gon here?” Aalea asked as she gazed up at Obi-Wan.

“Aalea, you know Master Qui-Gon is on a mission. What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I heard Master Qui-Gon’s voice.”

Obi-Wan saw Aalea was barefoot and was only wearing a thin blue night robe. The halls of the Temple were chilly at night.

“Come inside,” he said.

Aalea walked past him. She sat on the settee in the common room, her short legs dangling over the edge.

Obi-Wan sat next to her. “Now, tell me what happened.”

“I was sleeping and then I heard Master Qui-Gon’s voice.”

“What was he saying?” Obi-Wan asked.

“He said ‘Cian. Hear me.’”

Obi-Wan stared at Aalea. Although she knew, like everyone at the Temple, that Qui-Gon was on a mission, she did not know any particulars about it. And she certainly didn’t know anything about Cian Nyal.

“Are you certain he said Cian?” he asked.

She nodded. “He sounded sick.”

Obi-Wan mulled this over. He looked over at Aalea and noted she was shivering.

"I’ll get you a blanket.”

Obi-Wan got up and went into his room. As he pulled a blanket from the shelf above his bed, he happened to glance at his utility belt where he had left it on his desk. He remembered the stone Qui-Gon had wanted him to give to Aalea. He took the stone out of the belt’s pouch and carried it and the blanket back into the common room.

He handed her the blanket. “Here, wrap yourself in this.”

Aalea took the blanket from him and drew it around her shivering body.

Obi-Wan held the stone in his hand for a moment, then handed it to Aalea.

“This is for you, from Master Qui-Gon. It’s from Tamarii.”

Aalea gazed down at the stone in her hand.

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.

“I’ve made some tea. I’ll get you a cup.”

He came back with the tea. He set the cup before Aalea on the low table in front of her. She was still staring at the stone.

“The tea‘s hot,” he said, “so let it cool before you drink it.”

Aalea only nodded.

“Aalea, I’m going to leave for a bit. Will you be all right here alone?”

She nodded, again saying nothing. She continued to stare at the stone in her hand.

Obi-Wan went into his room and closed the door. He quickly changed into his tunic and pants and hastily pulled on his boots. He would go and see Master Yoda. It couldn’t just be coincidence that both he and Aalea had sensed something was wrong with Qui-Gon. He might look like a fool in the morning, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Obi-Wan went back into the common area. Aalea was sitting with her eyes closed, her tiny fist clutching the stone.

“Aalea,” he called.

She jumped, her eyes snapping open. She stared at him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded. “Are you going to talk to someone about Master Qui-Gon?”

“Yes, Aalea, I am. I’ll be back soon. If you get tired you can sleep here.”

As Obi-Wan walked out the door, he sincerely hoped he would look a fool come morning. For if Qui-Gon truly was in danger, Obi-Wan would never forgive himself for not having been at his Master’s side.

-----

Malus ran. He reached his private chamber and sank to the floor.

Cursed Jedi! He clutched his burnt flesh. Twice-damned Jedi! And damn this sickly body! For Malus realized his possession of Landru’s body was speeding up the progress of the professor’s disease. Now he was also injured. Malus slumped onto his side. Pain lashed over him in waves.

The Jedi had surprised him. Malus had intended on waiting until his enemy had fallen asleep. Then he had planned to sneak up on him and stab him with the poisoned blade. However, for some reason the Jedi had come prying into the Temple. Malus had had no choice but to attack him. He knew he had wounded him, for he had felt the dagger enter the Jedi’s flesh and scrape against his rib.

Malus gritted his teeth. No matter. With the poison that was on the blade, the Jedi did not have long to live. Once he was dead, Malus would then find the female and perform the ritual. He would transfer his spirit into her body. Then, just to please himself, he would flay the Jedi’s flesh from his bones and hang his entrails in the wind.

But now he had to regain his strength. Malus prepared himself to enter a Dark side trance. It would take a few hours for the meditation to heal him enough for him to perform the transfer into the female’s body, but Malus was not worried for he knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Even if she decided to return to the base camp and call for help, he knew from Landru’s memories that it would be at least a week before such help arrived and by then it would be too late.

Malus held his throbbing arm close to his body. He focused his meditation on an image of the Jedi lying dead at his feet. He then closed his eyes and sank into the trance.

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

Part Six

Cian tossed in her sleep. She was dreaming and in her dream a vast and pitiless darkness surrounded and tried to engulf her. Deep within that roiling, twisting murk she sensed an ancient and powerful rage which howled for vengeance down the corridors of the ages.

Eyes as red as blood and as callous as death searched for, then found her. Cian trembled in terror as the gaze from those eyes latched cruelly onto her.

Yet, standing between her and that merciless gaze was a shining blade of emerald light. It glowed within the darkness, brave and strong and bright but then, suddenly, as Cian watched with growing horror, the light gradually grew dim.

Cian shuddered awake.

“Qui-Gon!” she cried.

She sat up, gasping and panting, her heart thudding. Something was terribly wrong. She felt it like a blade in her chest.

/Cian!/

Cian looked around, her eyes darting about the tent. Was she hearing things? It sounded like Qui-Gon. But she was alone.

/Hear me! Cian!/

Cian jerked to her feet. It _was_ Qui-Gon! But where was he?

Cian grabbed her blaster and ran out of the tent. Qui-Gon was nowhere in sight. She ran to Landru’s tent and looked inside. The professor was also gone.

“Qui-Gon,” she called as she ran out of Landru’s tent. “Where are you?” Cian ran wildly around the camp. “Professor Landru?”

/Cian. Inside the temple. Hurry/

Cian ran to the temple entrance. She lit a small glow rod and held it in her hand as she peered into the darkness.

“Qui-Gon?” she called.

/Cian! Hurry!/

Cian ran. She searched through the passageways of the temple for what seemed like hours, guided only by Qui-Gon‘s voice in her mind. Then she saw, huddled against the wall, a figure crouched in the darkness.

She held her blaster in front of her as she approached the shadowy hulk.

“Qui-Gon?”

“Cian,” he gasped.

Cian ran to him. He was pale and his breathing was labored. He leaned heavily against the temple wall, his lightsaber hanging listlessly in his hand.

“What happened?” she cried.

“Attacked....”

Cian put her blaster into the holster on her leg. She took Qui-Gon’s arm. She could smell blood. He leaned on her and Cian struggled to hold his weight. His lightsaber slipped from his grasp. Cian knelt, picked it up and shoved it under her arm. As she helped Qui-Gon out of the temple and back to the camp, panic rose in her, scrabbling with sharp fingers inside her throat. What had happened to him? And where was Professor Landru?

Sweat trickled down Cian’s face as she struggled to keep Qui-Gon from collapsing. She could feel his blood on her skin. It was so warm. And there was so much of it.

When they reached the camp, Cian lowered Qui-Gon carefully to the ground. She quickly removed his robe and tunic. She gasped when she saw the ugly stab wound in his side.

She ran to her tent, grabbed the medkit from beneath her cot and ran back to Qui-Gon. She knelt next to him. She tried to open the medkit, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t release the press-stud.

_Stop it_! she scolded herself.

She took a deep breath and willed her hands to stop shaking.

_Don’t panic. Focus. You know what needs to be done. He needs you to be calm or he‘ll die_

Cian took another deep breath. Her fingers were steady as she found the stud and pressed it. She opened the medkit and set herself to treating Qui-Gon’s wound.

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

Aalea waited until the door had pressed shut behind Obi-Wan. She then closed her eyes and concentrated on the stone in her hand. Although it had been days since he’d last held it, Aalea could still feel Master Qui-Gon’s life force within it.

A chill ran up Aalea’s spine for she knew that what she was about to do was very dangerous. Most initiates her age couldn’t even visualize the Force matrix, but Aalea had mastered the visualization some time ago. However, as was her habit when it came to things she knew would set her apart, she had told no one except Master Qui-Gon.

He had gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment; then, carefully and methodically, had taught her how to hold the matrix in her mind and use it to access the interstices of the Force. But, he had also warned her never to access the matrix without his guidance.

“The Force is as infinite as space and time, Aalea,” he had said gravely. “Without proper direction you could be lost forever and never find your way back.”

But this was different, she told herself. Master Qui-Gon was in danger. She could feel it. Even if Obi-Wan was able to convince someone to send help, she knew it could be days before such help arrived. And she could tell by the sound of Qui-Gon’s voice that he didn’t have much time.

Aalea clutched the stone in her hand and, as Qui-Gon had taught her, she slowly visualized the matrix. Soon the pulsating nexus of golden light filled her mind. She then shifted her awareness to the residue of Qui-Gon’s life force she could still feel in the stone. She stilled her mind, fell into the matrix and, with Qui-Gon’s Force signature from the stone as her guide, began her search for him along the shimmering matrices of the Force.

-----

Cian had treated Qui-Gon’s wound and stopped the bleeding, but she didn’t like the look of him. He was still too pale and his pulse was thready.

Qui-Gon‘s eyes fluttered open. He gazed up at her.

“Cian,” he whispered. “Poison... blade.”

“Poison? On what blade?”

“Landru...stabbed....”

“Landru? You’re saying the professor did this to you?”

He nodded. “Sith blade....”

“Why would Professor Landru do such a thing? I don’t believe you!”

“Landru...not Landru. Be wary...of him...don’t know...much time...I have. You...must...leave. Contact...the Republic.”

“What do you mean you don’t have much time?“ Cian cried. “I stopped the bleeding. You’re going to be all right.”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Poison....”

Cian looked frantically through the medkit.

“There must be an antidote for it in here!”

Qui-Gon grabbed her hand. “No antidote...leave...too late.” He lapsed back into unconsciousness.

The blood pounded in Cian‘s ears and a cold fist of terror squeezed her heart. He couldn’t die. He mustn’t die. There had to be something she could do.

------
Aalea’s consciousness sped along the matrices of the Force. Lines of energy flowed past her; some were as bright as moonspun spiders’ webs; others as dark as loops of blood.

Stars, planets and moons rushed past Aalea and she was both elated and frightened for always before when she had done this, Master Qui-Gon had been with her, his awareness like a shield about her, comforting and safe, yet sometimes stifling; but now Aalea was alone and the entire universe stretched before her; infinite, unending, limitless.

Suddenly a wave of fear swept through Aalea. She was lost, adrift along the Force matrix. She could no longer sense the path which had been guiding her to Qui-Gon. An infinity of space and time stretched around her. Terror twisted her heart.

Desperately, as an icy black panic threatened to overwhelm her, Aalea quickly focused her awareness on her memories of Qui-Gon; the tickly feel of his beard when she kissed his cheek; the softness of his tunic on her face when she hugged him; the sound of his voice, firm, but warm, as he patiently explained some aspect of Jedi lore to her; and his eyes, she remembered especially the way they always lit up whenever she ran to him.

Aalea concentrated intensely on her memories of the Jedi Master as she tried to find her way back to the path which would lead her to him.

------

Cian hovered anxiously over Qui-Gon. His pulse was weakening and her medcoder told her he was slipping into shock. His breathing was becoming more shallow by the minute.

Her mind fluttered between panic and anguish. She clenched her hands. She had to try and heal him with her abilities. But what if she had to believe in the Force in order to do so?

Cian shook her head. She didn’t believe in the Force. She couldn’t believe in it. Her father had drilled that disbelief into her for as long as she could remember.

Even now she could still hear his voice: _There is no such thing as the Force, Cian. All we have as sentient beings in this universe are our minds and our reason_

_Yes, Father_, Cian thought, _but this man, this sentient being as you would call him, is going to die if I don’t start believing in something you always told me didn’t exist_

Cian placed her trembling fingers alongside Qui-Gon’s forehead. She took a deep breath and called upon the Force. When she felt the first tendrils of its energy moving through her like the glistening branches from some cosmic tree, she flinched, her fear instinctual and automatic.

But, as Cian calmed herself and allowed the Force to flow through her, she sighed deeply, for it began to move through her like a silver river; swift, clean, and fresh and it felt to her as if all the joy and love in the entire universe was something substantial into which she could dive into.

Cian knelt closer to Qui-Gon.

“Hold on,” she whispered. “Hold on.”

She closed her eyes and fell into the healing trance.

NOTE: / / indicates Force communication

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

Part Seven

Malus awoke from his dark side trance. His eyes adjusted to the gloom of his chamber. A single candle he had set upon the floor was now a stuttering lump.

He stood up and examined his wrist. He twisted it. There was no sign of the wound where the blasted Jedi’s blade had burned him. But, Malus also knew he didn’t have much time. Soon this body would start to break down and Malus wasn’t sure he could stop its full deterioration the next time he had to heal himself. The professor’s disease continued to progress at a rapid pace the longer Malus’ dark side energy possessed the body.

Malus made his way down the passage that led to the temple’s entrance. The Jedi should be dead by now. After he had taken the female‘s body he would then cut off the head of the Jedi and display it as a trophy in whatever palace on whatever system-wide empire he forged for himself in this brave new galaxy he was about to enter.

-------

Cian opened her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked at her wristchrono. Two hours had passed since she had fallen into the healing trance. She was terribly exhausted and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep, but she picked up the medcoder and placed it on Qui-Gon’s neck.

He was still unconscious, but was no longer in danger of going into shock. Cian hadn’t been able to rid his body of all the poison; there was just enough of it remaining that he was still quite weak. But he would live.

Cian sighed in relief. She gently stroked his forehead. She wished he would wake up. She wouldn’t even mind if he started asking her all those nosy questions about her Force abilities just as long as he was awake and talking to her.

She softly hummed the melody from her music box and, as she did so, one of the stories her nursemaid used to tell her popped into her head; it was the one about the magical kiss which would awaken the sleeping prince.

Cian leaned down and lightly placed a kiss on Qui-Gon’s lips. She watched, hoped--foolishly she knew--but he didn‘t wake up.

She sighed. It was a silly thing to have done and she was glad Qui-Gon hadn’t been awake to feel it. And it was probably best he get some rest.

Cian leaned wearily against the cavern wall. She would rest a bit herself, then go down to the base camp and contact the Republic for help.

She rubbed her arms. The cavern was cold and she had wrapped her blanket around Qui-Gon to keep him warm. Then she remembered there was an extra blanket in the professor’s tent.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyes widened. The professor. Cian hadn’t seen nor heard anything from him for hours. She had been so focused on saving Qui-Gon’s life she had forgotten about him. Qui-Gon had warned her to be wary of him, but she couldn’t believe Professor Landru had attacked him. And even if he had, it probably had something to do with his illness. For all Cian knew Professor Landru was lying somewhere helpless and in need of her.

She was about to get up and go look for him when she saw movement in the darkness. Someone was coming out of the temple.

Cian reached for her blaster and pointed it at the figure. As it came closer she saw that it was Professor Landru. Relief flooded through her. She lowered the blaster. Then she saw the professor’s eyes and she screamed.

--------

Aalea’s awareness had finally found Qui-Gon’s Force signature along the matrix and it had led her here, to the very edge of Republic space and this small, desolate planet. Her consciousness flowed down through its dust-choked atmosphere and streaked across its blasted plains towards a line of dark mountains. Her awareness moved through a tunnel and into a large cavern.

She had found him.

Then Aalea noted that there were two other Force signatures near Qui-Gon. One was very bright, like a river of silver, but it was terrified and its fear was like the edge of a sharp knife. The other was dark and thick, like a towering thundercloud.

Aalea felt herself drawn to that dark Force signature. It was powerful and ancient and Aalea felt herself moving closer and closer to it. Then she remembered. Master Qui-Gon. Aalea’s awareness darted away from the dark force.

-------

Malus sneered as the female raised her pitiful weapon at him. With a casual wave of his hand he plucked it from her grasp and threw it against the cavern wall. The female tried to back away from him, but the cavern wall was behind her.

Then Malus saw the Jedi lying on the ground near her. He also saw the Jedi was still breathing, but unconscious. Malus’ eyes widened. So, he was still alive. Interesting. Malus moved towards him.

The female crawled in front of the Jedi and blocked Malus' approach with her body.

“So, you care for the Jedi,” Malus said to her. “Good. Once I have your body, I shall let you remain alive long enough inside it to watch as I flay the flesh from his bones.”

He grabbed her arm and placed her palm against the amulet he held in his hand. He began chanting the spell which would transfer his spirit to her body. The female screamed. Malus smiled.

------

Aalea’s awareness slipped into Qui-Gon’s mind. She saw before her the mental landscape which represented his present state of unconsciousness. Long golden plains stretched before her. A rose-colored sky arched overhead and saffron tinted clouds floated serenely across it. Then she saw Master Qui-Gon. He was walking slowly, his hands behind his back, his head down.

Aalea ran to him.

“Master!” She pulled hard on the sleeve of his tunic.

“Aalea.” Qui-Gon frowned down at her. “What are you doing here? Are you traversing the Force matrix without me? I’ve warned you how dangerous that is.”

“Yes, I know, Master, but there’s no time.” Aalea pulled frantically on his sleeve. “Hurry! You must wake up! She's in danger!”

“Who is in danger, Aalea?”

“Cian. The dark one almost has her. We must help her.”

The sky above them darkened. Lightning lashed across the heavens and thunder, which sounded disturbingly like a woman‘s scream, tore through the air.

Aalea pointed upward. “See, Master! You must wake up!”

---------

Cian screamed as the amulet burned against her hand. She struggled to free herself, but Professor Landru, or what had once been the professor, was too strong. His grip on her arm was like iron.

Cian then shrieked as she felt something hard and hot and dark move into her. It tore into her like a ravenous beast and pain, unlike anything Cian could ever have dreamt of in a thousand nightmares, ripped through her.

Cian wanted to die; she screamed for death, begged and pleaded for it, but she didn‘t die, because the thing now sharing her body had done as it had threatened. It was keeping her alive long enough for her to watch it torture and then kill Qui-Gon.

-------

Qui-Gon struggled toward consciousness. He opened his eyes. He saw Cian struggling with Landru who was pressing something against her hand and rapidly speaking harsh, guttural words over her.

Qui-Gon tried to move, but he was still weak and his access to the Force was blocked by the poison which remained in his body.

/Don’t worry, Master. I can help/

Qui-Gon felt Aalea in his mind. She _was_ here with him. He hadn’t dreamt it. Somehow, on her own, her awareness had found his along the matrices of the Force.

/No, Aalea. It’s too dangerous. You shouldn’t even be here. You must leave. Now!/

/I can help, Master. I can do it. Hurry! There isn’t much time/

Cian screamed again. Qui-Gon pushed himself from the ground. Landru had closed his eyes as he continued to chant over Cian.

Qui-Gon felt Aalea’s Force strength flowing through him. He looked over and saw his lightsaber a few feet away from him on the ground. With Aalea’s strength supplementing his own, he used the Force to reach for it. It soared towards his hand and he ignited it.

He leapt up and ran to Cian and Landru. He raised his lightsaber above his head to strike Landru a killing blow but, before he could, Landru crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

Cian screamed one final heart-rendering scream, then dropped heavily to her knees, her head bent over her heaving chest.

Qui-Gon leaned over her.

“Cian. Are you all right?”

Cian slowly lifted her head and her eyes were now as dark and red as dried blood.

“Oh yes, Jedi,” hissed Cian, or what had been Cian. “I am quite all right. And you, I fear to say, are quite dead.”

Qui-Gon leapt back, anger surging through him. This thing had killed Cian and now it dared to pervert her body by possessing it. Qui-Gon drew his lightsaber back and prepared to strike.

Aalea screamed in his mind.

/NO! Master, don’t! She’s still alive! Cian is still alive!/

Qui-Gon stayed his swing, his heart pounding in his chest.

/Aalea, are you certain?/

/Yes, I can feel her, Master. She’s alive, but in great pain/

“Ah, you hesitate,” the thing inside Cian whispered. “Yes, the female is still alive. I’ve kept her alive long enough to watch as I destroy you, Jedi.”

Qui-Gon kept his lightsaber high.

“That will not be as easy as you think.”

“Oh, but you are wrong. It has always been easy for the Sith to kill the Jedi.”

The Sith then reached over and quickly pulled a lightsaber from the tunic on the lifeless body of the professor.

Qui-Gon’s body immediately shifted into battle stance. Then he heard Aalea’s voice in his mind.

/Master, I’m going to Cian/

/Aalea, no! It’s too dangerous!/

/I can help her, Master/

/No, Aalea! I forbid it!/

Qui-Gon felt Aalea’s consciousness move quickly from his mind. She was gone. And with her went Qui-Gon’s access to the Force. He felt his body trembling with weakness from the Sith poison that remained in his body, but he kept his lightsaber high.

The Sith looked at Qui-Gon with what had once been Cian’s beautiful dark gray eyes, but were now as red as death. His vulpine leer twisted her lovely mouth into a horrible mockery of her gentle smile. Qui-Gon’s insides twisted at the sight of the Sith’s perverted possession of the young woman’s body.

“Prepare to die, Jedi,” the Sith hissed with Cian’s soft voice. “But remember, kill me and the female also dies.”

Qui-Gon’s heart lurched at the Sith‘s words. For if Aalea was right and Cian was still alive, Qui-Gon would have to use all of his fighting skills to defeat his enemy without destroying the body he possessed.

The Sith ignited his lightsaber and darted forward, his lightsaber clashing against Qui-Gon’s. And once again, as had happened thousands upon thousands of years ago, Jedi and Sith were joined in the ancient battle between the Dark and the Light.

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

Part Eight

Aalea’s awareness slipped into Cian’s mind and gazed at what symbolized the young woman‘s mental landscape. A harsh and desolate scene of towering snow drifts and mountains of ice lay before Aalea. She shivered. For off on the horizon she could see the Sith’s Force signature. It manifested in Cian’s mind as roiling black thunderheads and ruby colored streaks of lightning that scoured the earth and sky.

Aalea quickly masked her presence from the Sith and ran across the frozen plains. Soon she saw a solitary ebony tower in the middle of the pale landscape.

Aalea entered it. A staircase, caked in frost, led up toward the top. She ran up the stairs. Twice she slipped and fell on the ice, but she finally made it to the top of the tower. She stopped before a huge wooden door covered in rime.

“Cian” Aalea shouted, her breath frosting in the air. “Cian” she called out again.

Aalea pushed against the door. A throbbing cold seeped into her palms and froze her hands. She gasped and quickly drew back.

"Cian," she shouted again, louder.

“Who’s there?” a frightened voice cried from behind the door.

“It’s Aalea.”

“Aalea? Qui-Gon’s friend?”

“Yes. Please, open the door. I can’t from this side.”

“I’m afraid to. It....it hurt me. Oh, gods, it hurt me so bad.” A wrenching sob seeped from behind the door. “It said it would be back. It said it would make me watch it kill Qui-Gon.”

“Cian, please, open the door,” Aalea begged. “We don’t have much time if we want to help Master Qui-Gon.”

There was silence and then the door slowly creaked open. Aalea ran in.

Cian was lying on the floor, curled up in a ball. Tears were flowing down her face and she was humming a song which rose and fell in soft, haunting tones.

Aalea ran over to her. She placed her tiny hands against the woman’s cold cheeks.

“It’s all right, Cian. Don’t be afraid.”

Cian looked up, her lips trembling, her gray eyes dark with pain and fear.

“You‘re not alone,” Aalea said soothingly to her. “I’m here. I’ll protect you. But we must hurry. You must get up.“

Cian nodded and struggled to sit.

“You're just as beautiful as Qui-Gon described you,” she said softly as she gazed over at Aalea. “But, how did you get here? Inside my mind?”

“There’s no time, Cian. We have to get out of here.”

Cian nodded and, with Aalea’s help, got to her feet. Aalea guided her carefully down the stairs and out of the tower. Together they stood on the ice plain. Aalea glanced up at the sky above them and her heart lurched. The thunderhead of the Sith’s Force signature was towering even higher in the sky.

“What does that mean?” Cian asked as she looked fearfully up at the massive dark cloud.

“It means the Sith is winning,” Aalea said, her voice breaking. “And Master Qui-Gon doesn‘t have much time.”

“What can we do?”

Aalea was suddenly at a loss. She was only eight years old and an initiate at that. But, she realized, she was also in Cian’s mind and the woman was very strong with the Force.

She took Cian’s hand and looked up at her.

“I need your help, Cian. Maybe together we can defeat him.”

Cian’s eyes widened in fear. “I don’t know...”

Aalea squeezed her hand. “We have to try. For Master Qui-Gon’s sake. He won’t be able to hold much longer against the Sith. He’s still so weak.”

Cian nodded. Together the woman and the girl ran hand in hand toward the root of the storm.

------
Obi-Wan pressed open the door to his quarters. He had finally convinced Yoda‘s aide to let him speak to the Jedi Master despite the lateness of the hour. Yoda had listened attentively as Obi-Wan had described his and Aalea’s forebodings concerning Qui-Gon. Yoda had then confessed that he too had felt a disturbance in the Force which had troubled his meditations. He had assured Obi-Wan he would immediately contact the Chancellor and request that one of the fastest ships in the Republic fleet be sent to Dyran.

Obi-Wan had come back to share the news with Aalea but, as he entered the common area, he saw no sign of her. He walked around to the front of the settee.

Aalea was lying on the floor, the stone from Qui-Gon clutched tightly in her hand. Obi-Wan quickly knelt next to her. He placed his fingers on her neck. There was a pulse, but it was very weak and her skin was like ice. He lifted her up and laid her gently on the settee. He called her name. Aalea did not stir. Obi-Wan activated his comlink.

“Master Yoda, come quickly! Something’s happened to Aalea!”

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

Blocking and countering, twisting and slashing, Qui-Gon and the Sith battled across the floor of the cavern.

Suddenly the Sith parried one of Qui-Gon’s strokes and his blade singed against Qui-Gon’s shoulder.

Qui-Gon grunted in pain. He backed away, mindful of keeping his balance on the uneven ground. He knew he was outmatched. He was still very weak from the Sith poison and, without Aalea’s Force strength to supplement his own, he was unable to draw on enough of the Force to aid him. But he was determined to hang on if there was a chance he could save Cian. He would have to trust Aalea would find a way to help her.

The Sith unleashed a deadly series of strokes with his blade. Qui-Gon focused on defending himself against them.

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

Obi-Wan stood next to the bed Aalea was in. They were in the Healer’s Wing of the Temple. Aalea was hooked up to a life support system which was sustaining her bodily functions. Healer Sklar had determined the child was in a deep coma, but could find no explanation as to what had caused it. Obi-Wan’s stomach clenched with fear as he looked at Aalea. What could have happened? He had only been gone a short while.

He turned at the sound of Yoda’s staff clicking on the floor as he entered the room. The Jedi Master wasn’t alone however. Yarael Poof was with him. Yarael Poof was a Quermian and Obi-Wan knew him to be a Master of the Living Force.

Obi-Wan bowed to them both and Yarael’s long neck bobbled as he returned Obi-Wan’s bow.

“Master Yarael have I asked to be here. He the child will examine,” Yoda said to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan stepped aside as the Quermian walked over to Aalea’s bed. He placed his thin long-fingered hands alongside her head and closed his large pink eyes.

As Yarael examined Aalea, Obi-Wan turned to Yoda.

“Master, there’s nothing I can do here,” he said quietly. “I would like your permission to go to Dyran.”

Yoda shook his head. “Here you will remain. Master Windu will go to Dyran.”

“But, Master Yoda, even you sensed that my master is in danger. He needs me.”

“Even with fastest ship, three days will it take to reach Qui-Gon. Here you will better serve him I think. Permission is denied.”

Obi-Wan crossed his arms in frustration. But before he could think of some other argument to offer Yoda, Yarael drew his hands away from Aalea. He turned back to Obi-Wan and Yoda.

“The Force matrix this young one travels,” he said in his high-pitched sing-song voice.

“The Force matrix?” Obi-Wan cried. He shook his head. That wasn’t possible. Aalea was too young to even know how to visualize it, much less traverse it.

Yoda, however, nodded in agreement.

“Notice the stone in her hand she holds,” he said to Yarael, pointing to Aalea’s hand.

Yarael’s long neck coiled down as he examined it.

He turned to Obi-Wan. “What is the significance of this?”

“It’s from Master Qui-Gon,” he replied. “He asked me to give it to Aalea. He brings her a stone from every world he visits.”

Yarael nodded. His large eyes blinked slowly.

“Then to Master Qui-Gon it would appear she has gone. She is using the residue of his Force signature from the stone to guide her.”

Obi-Wan shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re saying Aalea’s consciousness has gone in search of my Master? But, she’s only a child. How could she even know how to do such a thing?

“Qui-Gon’s doing I suspect is this,” Yoda said.

Yarael nodded in agreement. “Yes, Master Qui-Gon is one of few Jedi who has mastered this aspect of the Living Force.”

“And only Qui-Gon,” Yoda added, “is reckless enough to a child to teach it.”

Obi-Wan turned quickly on Yoda.

“I’m sure if my Master taught her to do it, there was a good reason for it,” he said hotly before he could stop himself.

Yoda’s eyes widened at Obi-Wan’s outburst.

Obi-Wan bit his lip, but he couldn’t believe Qui-Gon would ever do anything which would deliberately put anyone in danger, especially someone he cared for as much as Aalea.

Yarael laid a gentle hand on Obi-Wan’s arm.

“I agree, young Obi-Wan. Master Qui-Gon would never have taught her to do this if he thought she would attempt it on her own.” Yarael gazed back at Aalea. “She must care for him very much to do such a dangerous thing.”

“What will happen to her, Master?” Obi-Wan asked.

“If her consciousness does not return to her body soon, she will die,” Yarael said simply.

Obi-Wan stared in shock at Yarael.

“Die?” he repeated. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Qui-Gon was in danger and now Aalea was near death. Obi-Wan had never felt so helpless.

“But there must be something we can do?” he appealed to Yarael.

Yarael slowly shook his head, his large pink eyes regarding Obi-Wan with a deep sadness.

Yoda suddenly moved close to Obi-Wan and grabbed his arm.

“Assist her you can,” the Jedi Master said fiercely. “Important to you she will be.

“What?” Obi-Wan cried, startled by Yoda‘s words. “I hardly know her.”

Yoda stared up at him, his large eyes bright and hard.

“Know or not know. Doesn’t matter. You in your heart know what needs to be done.”

Obi-Wan looked down at Yoda for a long moment. He then nodded. Yoda released his arm.

Obi-Wan walked over to Aalea’s bed. He gazed down at her. She was such a little thing, but in that big bed, with all the tubes and wires hooked up to her, she seemed even tinier.

Obi-Wan sat in the chair next to her bed. He lifted the hand which was still clutching the stone. It was so small and cold. Obi-Wan also noted Aalea was holding the stone so tightly the nails on her fingers were digging into the skin. As Obi-Wan stared at the stone, he suddenly realized that Qui-Gon’s request he give it to Aalea was his Master’s way of asking him to watch over her in case something happened to him on the mission. Obi-Wan leaned close to Aalea’s ear.

“Don’t worry, Aalea,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

-------

Aalea and Cian were buffeted by the wind. Cold rain lashed against them. They stood in the very center of the Sith’s presence in Cian’s mind. Aalea held on to Cian’s hand. She could feel the woman’s fear.

“What can we do?” Cian shouted.

The wind howled around them and black streaks of icy rain plummeted them. Blood red lightning lashed the ground.

Aalea shook her head. She didn’t know. She concentrated and reached out to Qui-Gon. He was holding on, but just barely. The Sith would soon detect Aalea’s presence in Cian‘s mind. She knew they didn’t have much time.

-----------
Qui-Gon was weakening. The Sith, using Cian’s body, unleashed stroke after stroke against him but, because Qui-Gon was also trying to keep from killing his opponent, fearful that not only would he destroy Cian, but possibly Aalea, he was using only defensive tactics against the Sith.

Suddenly the Sith parried and knocked Qui-Gon’s lightsaber from his hand. He held the blade to Qui-Gon’s throat.

“See,” the Sith said. “How easy it is to kill the Jedi.”

Qui-Gon lifted his head and stared defiantly back.

--------

“NO!” Aalea shouted.

Cian looked down, her eyes wide with fear.

“Aalea, what‘s wrong? What‘s happened?”

But Aalea wasn’t looking at her. She was staring up at the massive thunderhead above them. Her violet eyes were wide and blazing.

“I won’t let you hurt him!” she shouted.

She let go of Cian’s hand and raised up her arms. Cian backed away, for Aalea had transformed. Her small body was glowing with power. Suddenly two bolts of violet lightning arched from her hands. They leapt upward and struck the thunderhead towering above her.

Aalea felt her Force power surging through her. It had come unbidden from deep within when she had sensed the Sith was about to strike down her beloved Qui-Gon, the one person in the entire universe whom she knew without a doubt loved her. The power had leapt like some wild animal from inside her. It tore through Aalea like a volcanic eruption and she threw all of its might against the darkness which seethed above her.
-----

Malus held the lightsaber at the Jedi’s throat. He reveled in the sweetness of his victory over his ancient enemy. Too bad the Jedi refused to show fear, but no matter.

Suddenly, pain exploded in Malus’ head. He dropped his lightsaber and fell to his knees. _What? How?_

He focused his inner vision on the mental landscape of Cian's mind and saw the source of the attack.

It was a child. A Jedi child! Inside the female's mind with him! Malus shifted his awareness from the Jedi and turned inward towards the child. Screaming murderous fury, he unleashed the full might of his wrath against her.

---------

Blood red bolts of Force lightening rained down on Aalea. Her arms trembled above her. She felt herself buckling under the attack.

“No!” she cried.

She struggled to match the Sith’s power with her own, but he was a master of the dark side and she was only a child. The Sith battered against her defenses and Aalea could feel them crumbling about her. Even her deep and powerful love for Qui-Gon wasn’t enough to stand against the Sith. Aalea sobbed as the his dark power beat mercilessly against her.

-------
Obi-Wan was still holding Aalea’s hand when the life monitors around her suddenly stared to wail loudly.

Healer Sklar rushed in from her office and Yoda and Yarael, who had been sitting in a corner of the room talking quietly, hurried over.

“What’s happening?” Obi-Wan asked.

Sklar didn’t answer him. She was occupied with manipulating a series of instruments next to Aalea’s bed. The monitors continued to sound their alarms.

Obi-Wan turned quickly to Yoda and Yarael. “Masters, what’s going on?”

“She is dying,” Yarael said quietly.

“No, she can’t be,” Obi-Wan cried.

He turned back to Aalea and squeezed her hand.

The monitors kept beeping and out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan could see Sklar working frantically to save Aalea’s life. Obi-Wan squeezed her hand even harder. There had to be something he could do.

He looked down at Aalea. She had not been afraid when she had thrust her fragile identity into the vastness of the Force. She was risking her life help his Master and, if she was willing to give so much, surely he could give something of himself to help her.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He drew on the Force and, reaching out with it, forged a Force bond with Aalea. He did so without thought or awareness of the consequences. All he knew was that Aalea needed him and, he suddenly sensed, though he did not know how or why, someday he would need her too. But, even as Obi-Wan forged the bond he feared it was already too late.

----------

Part Nine

Aalea gave way under the Sith’s attack. It was too much. She couldn’t hold against it. She felt herself fragmenting into nothingness as the Sith methodically obliterated her consciousness.

_I’m dying_, she thought, _and the Sith will kill Master Qui-Gon_. And that thought saddened Aalea more than her own impending death.

Suddenly the Sith’s assault against Aalea weakened. The Sith was being attacked, but not by her.

Aalea glanced over at Cian. The woman’s arms were lifted over her head and bolts of Force lightning, silver and bright, leapt from her hands toward the towering thunderhead.

At the same time Aalea felt a fresh fount of power surging through her; it was from far away and it was familiar to her. Someone she knew...yes, it was Obi-Wan!

Aalea could feel him. He was connected to her somehow and was helping her, strengthening her, giving her some of his life energy.

Aalea took a deep breath and, with Obi-Wan’s life force supporting her, renewed her attack upon the Sith.

Together she and Cian flung their power against the darkness which roiled above them. The thunderhead boiled and churned and roared; streaks of red lightening lashed about them both, but neither Cian nor Aalea relented for both knew what was at stake if they failed.

----------

Qui-Gon watched in amazement as Cian’s body slumped to the ground. He picked up the lightsaber where the Sith had dropped it.

“No! Impossible!” the Sith howled. “Impossible!”

Qui-Gon raised the lightsaber, prepared to strike if the Sith attacked again.

-------
The black thunderhead slowly dissipated. Soon nothing remained of it. A sky, as blue and as clear as hope, arched overhead. Downy white clouds floated slowly across it.

Cian fell to her side on the ground. She took a shuddering breath. A soft warm wind, sweet with the scent of Jaharan roses, ruffled her hair. Blue Alderaanian grass tickled her cheek.

She pushed herself up and gazed around in wonder at the flower sprinkled meadow upon which she lay. Cian reached out with the Force. There was no trace of the Sith. He was gone, destroyed. She then touched her cheek.

The Force. How effortlessly she had called upon it. It was a part of her now. And she knew, somehow, it would always be with her.

She turned towards Aalea to share with someone, anyone, this wonderful revelation.

Aalea was sprawled on the ground. Cian went over to her and took the little girl into her arms.

“Aalea,” she cried.

Aalea opened her beautiful eyes and gazed up at Cian.

“Is the dark one gone?” she whispered.

“Yes, Aalea.”

“Master Qui-Gon is safe?”

“Yes, my dove, he’s safe.”

“Cian....don‘t tell anyone...what I did...,” Aalea murmured. And then, as Cian watched in horror, Aalea melted away to nothingness in her arms.

-------

Qui-Gon stared down at Cian. She hadn’t moved for the last few moments. He took a chance. He lowered the lightsaber and knelt next to her, placing his fingers on her neck. There was a pulse, weak, but steady. Her eyes fluttered open. They were as soft and gray as dawn.

“Qui-Gon,” she murmured.

“Are you all right, Cian?.”

Cian gazed up at him, then her eyes widened. She grasped his hand and clung to it.

“Aalea. Where is she?”

Qui-Gon reached out with the Force. He couldn’t feel Aalea at all. She was gone.

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

Qui-Gon was resting in the Healer’s wing in the Jedi Temple. He and Cian had been rescued from Dyran nearly a week ago. The Healers had rid his body of the remainder of the Sith poison, but he had suffered some damage to his heart and liver so the Healers had ordered him to remain in bed. There was also a bacta bandage around his upper left arm where the Sith’s blade had burned him.

Obi-Wan sat in a chair next to him. He had a datapad in his lap and his fingers were flying across it, his brow furrowed. Qui-Gon knew he was taking advantage of the free time they had, as they both recuperated, to catch up on their mission reports for the last year, a task both were notorious for neglecting.

Qui-Gon glanced over at Aalea who was on the other side of him, her tiny hand in his, her head on his shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she was softly humming a song which rose and fell in soft, haunting tones.

Yoda had told Qui-Gon what had happened regarding Aalea; how she had come out of her coma with apparently no serious side effects. However, Yoda had also warned Qui-Gon that for him there were sure to be grave repercussions for his having taught Aalea how to traverse the Force matrix. And that very morning Qui-Gon had received a summons to appear before the Jedi Council after he had fully recuperated.

Qui-Gon sighed. He had spent a lot of time over the years appearing before the Council.

But, he thought, he had no regrets. Because of his teachings, Aalea had saved Cian. However, he would also have a long talk with her later about disobeying his directives. Not that it would do any good.

As he glanced between Aalea and Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon suspected it was going to be his lot in life to have to watch over young people who never did as they were told. Which reminded him of something else Yoda had told him regarding Obi-Wan’s actions during the crisis.

“Force bond there is between the two,“ Yoda had told him as he described what Obi-Wan had done to save Aalea‘s life.

However, if there was a Force bond between Aalea and Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon had seen no evidence of it. Since he had returned from Dyran the two of them had acted as if the other didn‘t even exist.

Qui-Gon looked towards the door as Cian entered the room. Another mystery, he thought, as he watched her walk towards his bed.

When he had asked her what had happened during his duel with the Sith, when Aalea had been inside her mind, Cian had claimed to remember nothing. But Qui-Gon suspected she was not being truthful.

Cian smiled at Qui-Gon. He smiled back at her. He saw her hand was still bandaged from where the Sith had placed the amulet. He also saw she was carrying a small package awkwardly in the crook of her arm.

Obi-Wan looked up as Cian entered. He quickly laid his datapad down and stood.

“Let me get that for you.”

He took the package from Cian’s arm.

“Thank you,” she said to him.

She turned towards Qui-Gon.

“Master Jinn, you‘re looking much better than the last time I saw you.”

“As are you. And, considering all we’ve been through together, I think we’re past such formalities, _Mistress_ Nyal,” he said teasingly.

She laughed. “Fair enough, Qui-Gon.”

She turned towards Obi-Wan.

“You must be Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon’s told me quite a lot about you.”

Qui-Gon shot her a warning look, but Cian just smiled. She gestured towards the package in Obi-Wan's hands.

“He told me about your passion for Professor Landru’s work. Some time ago the professor signed a very special edition of one of his histories. Go ahead, open it. It‘s for you.”

Obi-Wan opened the package. He drew out a heavy bound book with gilt pages and maroon leather binding.

"It's a real book," he said reverently. He gently touched the pages and stroked the binding.

"It's the complete collection of the Jedi/Sith Pentad," Cian said. "The professor was feeling nostalgic one day and decided to have the entire Pentad printed up as actual books; binding, paper, everything. Cost him a small fortune, but he felt it was worth it. He signed only a few. That is the last one."

"Are you sure you don't want to keep it for yourself?" Obi-Wan asked.

Ciann shook her head. “From what Qui-Gon has told me of you, it's in the best possible hands."

Obi-Wan’s eyes shone. He bowed to Cian.

She pointed toward the front of the book.

“If you look there on the flyleaf, you’ll find his signature.”

Obi-Wan opened the page and read aloud.

“To a fellow journeyer on the road to knowledge and wisdom. May your journey last a lifetime. Kom Landru.”

Obi-Wan looked over at Qui-Gon. His eyes were brimming with sadness and Qui-Gon shared his padawan’s grief over the tragic death of the professor.

Obi-Wan turned back to Cian.

“Professor Landru was a great man, Mistress Nyal. The entire galaxy mourns his loss.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. Yes, he was a great man. And, though many didn’t know it, he was also a good man. That book, and others like it, will ensure he’ll never be forgotten.”

Cian turned to Aalea. “I also have something for you, Aalea.”

Cian reached into a pocket on her jacket and pulled out a small box. She handed it to Aalea.

“My parents gave it to me when I was about your age. I would like for you to have it.”

Aalea took the box and opened it. Her eyes widened as she watched the tiny holographic image of an Iego angel dance to the soft, gentle music. She looked up at Cian and smiled.

"It's pretty. Thank you, Cian.”

As he listened to the music, Qui-Gon realized with a start the song from the music box was the same one Aalea had been humming just before Cian entered the room.

“No, thank you, Aalea,” Cian said and a look passed between the girl and the woman that Qui-Gon could not identify but which spoke volumes.

Aalea gently closed the music box and put it into a pocket on her tunic.

Cian turned back to Qui-Gon.

“I'm afraid I can’t stay long. I’m on my way back to Dyran with a team of Jedi Investigators to complete the excavation. They’re going to let me finish the treatise Professor Landru was going to write about the Sith temple. It will be his final legacy. I just wanted to check in on you and say goodbye. I hope someday we'll meet again.”

“As do I, Cian.” And Qui-Gon realized he was not just being polite. He truly hoped he would see her again. Her dark gray eyes were warm as she looked back at him and he wondered if she felt the same way.

“Thanks so much for the book, Mistress Nyal,” Obi-Wan said. “I‘ll treasure it always.”

“Professor Landru would have liked that.”

Cian turned to leave and then stopped. She looked back at Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Aalea.

“May the Force be with you,” she said softly to them. She then turned and walked quickly out the door.

Obi-Wan looked over at Qui-Gon, puzzlement clearly in his eyes at Cian’s words. Qui-Gon, however, said nothing. He settled back on his pillows and decided right then that, yes, he was definitely going to make it a point to see Cian again someday.

The bells in the Temple announcing the start of the day’s classes began to toll.

Qui-Gon looked over at Aalea.

“You’re going to be late for classes, Aalea.”

She nodded at his words but didn‘t move.

“Now, Aalea,“ Qui-Gon said quietly, but firmly. “You can come back and visit me later.”

“All right, Master.” She reached up and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

She then glanced over at Obi-Wan. Out of the corner of his eye, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan wink at her. Aalea blushed, then turned and ran out of the room, her long black braid flying behind her.

Qui-Gon’s brows raised at this quick, but silent exchange between the two. He noted that Obi-Wan continued to stare at the door through which Aalea had gone, a thoughtful look on his face. He then turned back to Qui-Gon.

“Master, did you ever find out what really happened with the Sith spirit?”

Qui-Gon shook his head. “Both Aalea and Cian were strangely vague when questioned by the Council. They said only that they couldn’t remember exactly what happened.”

“And the Council accepted that as an explanation?”

“I’m sure the Council was as skeptical of their convenient lapses of memory as you are, Obi-Wan. But, Aalea is only a child and Cian is not a Jedi. It’s not as if ordering them to tell what really happened would serve any purpose.”

“But surely the Council will....”

Qui-Gon laid a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm.

“Leave it to the Council to decide what action to take, Padawan.”

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said. He looked down and slowly paged through the thick book he held in his hands.

“Are you planning on reading it again?" Qui-Gon asked as he eyed the book. It looked like it contained about a thousand pages.

“Well, you’re not going anywhere for awhile,” Obi-Wan said.

“Oh, I doubt that, Obi-Wan. I feel perfectly fine. I should be out of here by tomorrow.”

“Ummm, I don't think so, Master. I talked to Healer Sklar and she told me you needed to rest for at least another week. That means no missions, no teaching of Master classes, and no attending any of those boring colloquiums you‘re so fond of. You’re supposed to just relax.”

Obi-Wan paused, then fixed Qui-Gon with a teasing glance.

“You still know how to do that, don’t you, Master?”

At first Qui-Gon just frowned at Obi-Wan but, when he realized his apprentice had just turned the tables on him, he laughed so loudly one of the Healer’s assistants scurried over and asked the two to please keep it down.

Qui-Gon immediately closed his mouth, but his eyes, as they looked over at Obi-Wan, were still sparking with laughter.

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

As Aalea ran down the corridor away from the Healer’s Wing, she could hear Master Qui-Gon‘s laughter. For a moment she envied Obi-Wan’s sharing such a moment with him, but then she smiled. He was alive. Master Qui-Gon was alive and, as long as he was, no matter what pain or disappointment Aalea experienced in her life, the fact that he was a part of the universe which she inhabited meant that nothing could every really defeat her.

Then, as Aalea turned a corner and made her way toward the initiate’s training annex, she thought about Obi-Wan and the bond he had forged with her.

Aalea frowned slightly. When she had come out of her coma she had, at first, not understood what had happened to her, for suddenly she could hear thoughts that were not her own and feel sensations that did not come from her body.

Then Healer Sklar and Master Yoda had explained to her that in order to save her life, Obi-Wan had forged a Force bond with her; a life-long connection that bound them together, body and spirit, forever.

Aalea shivered. It had frightened her, the bond, so Master Yoda had taught her how to build mental shields against it which would not only keep Aalea from experiencing Obi-Wan’s thoughts and feelings, but he from sensing hers.

She had then asked Master Yoda if it was all right for her to shield against Obi-Wan. The Jedi Master had said that since most Force bonds were forged with the full consent of both parties involved, he did not think Obi-Wan would be offended. So Aalea had begun shielding and so had Obi-Wan, she suspected, for neither of them had spoken about the bond since Obi-Wan had forged it.

Aalea stopped running. She smoothed down the front of her tunic and brushed a lock of hair from her forehead before going into the classroom for her morning instructions. Taking a deep breath, she made certain her mental shields were in place, then entered the room, not realizing that it would be many years before she or Obi-Wan ever spoke of or used the bond they now shared.

----------

Part Ten

Luke stared at Aalea. The light from the small glow lamp on the table in her hovel softened the wrinkles and scars on her ravaged face.

“You and Ben shared a Force bond?”

Aalea nodded, a small smile crinkling her disfigured lips.

“Yes, we did.”

Luke shook his head. “But, from what I know of Force bonds, it’s unusual for one to be formed with someone as young as you were.”

“That is true. But Obi-Wan instinctively knew it was the only way he could transfer some of his life force to me when I was dying since my awareness was so far away along the Force matrix.”

“And it was years before either of you ever spoke about your bond?”

Aalea nodded. “Obi-Wan was often away with Qui-Gon on missions, so I didn’t really see much of him after Qui-Gon and Cian were rescued from Dyran. And, since we were both shielding against each other, I often forgot about the bond more than I thought about it.”

Aalea shrugged slightly. “The bond made us both uncomfortable for we knew it was usually only forged between individuals who were very close and, during that time, Obi-Wan and I were not close at all. Actually, we didn’t even get along very well.”

“What happened to change that?” Then Luke smiled. “It did change, didn’t it?”

Aalea laughed. “Oh yes, it did. But, to answer your question, a lot happened, young Luke. A lot.”

Luke moved closer. “I’d like to hear about it, if you don’t mind.”

Aalea smiled. “No, I don’t mind.” She took a deep breath. “The year when things changed between me and Obi-Wan was also the year when everything in the galaxy changed. Forever.”

Aalea sighed softly, her eyes gazing beyond Luke.

“Ten years had passed since Qui-Gon’s mission to Dyran. Obi-Wan was now twenty five and I was eighteen. I had been padawan to the Jedi Knight Ke-Ondra for the past five years. My master and I were stationed on Faronta, one of the outpost worlds along the Frontier.....”

******************

At least nothing was broken.

Aalea was grateful for that. She lay, her hands manacled behind her, on a cot in a cell in the smuggler’s compound on Faronta. Her captors had worked her over pretty good however. As they had questioned her, they had tortured her with metal rods that left no bruises or cuts, but inflicted a great deal of pain. But Aalea had not cried out. She had bit her lip until blood ran down her chin for she had swore that she would not give them any information nor the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Aalea passed out from the pain. But that was not the worst. When she awoke, she found that she was wearing a thin metal collar about her neck. To her horror she discovered that it blocked her access to the Force. If anything that had happened to her so far made her want to scream, it was that. She felt as helpless as a newborn.

Aalea shifted uncomfortably on her cot. She could hear the distant clanging of doors, muffled shouts and an occasional curse. She wondered if the young Star Guard officer who had been captured with her was still alive. She had heard him screaming earlier in his cell down the hall. But that had been hours ago and she had heard nothing since.

Aalea then thought of her master, the Jedi Knight Ke-Ondra. The last she had seen of him he had been running across the landing field at the smuggler’s hideout. He had been with the main contingent of the Star Guard forces, she with a flanking arm. When the smugglers had launched plasma bombs at the Star Guard, the explosion had knocked Aalea unconscious. When she awoke she’d found herself a prisoner in this cell. She did not know if her master was dead or alive.

The door to her cell slid open. Her captors were back. Aalea swallowed heavily and repeated under her breath the Litany of Courage that Master Qui-Gon had taught her years ago.

The big one, Titon, stopped in front of her. He pulled her up by her arm. His red piggish eyes raked over her body as if he was wondering what part of her he had neglected to torment the last time they‘d questioned her. He tapped his pain rod against his thick thigh. Aalea also noted that he still had her lightsaber clipped to the belt about his broad waist.

"These Jedi ain't so tough," he said to his companion, a short, slack-jawed man named Vol. "This one was easy enough to catch."

Aalea stared defiantly back at him.

"Take off this collar and undo these bonds, coward. Then I'll show you how easy the Jedi are."

Titon’s nostrils flared. He lifted the pain rod and struck Aalea hard across the face with it.

“Shut up, Jedi bitch!”

Aalea slammed back onto the cot. Her teeth lashed against the inside of her jaw. Blood pooled in her mouth.

"Hey! Careful, Titon!” Vol grabbed his arm. “Remember what the Hutt said. We could have our fun with her, but no marks."

Titon jerked his arm away.

"I don’t care what that big blob of pus says! You're a sniveling scrag, Vol."

Vol glared back at Titon. "You'd better watch yourself, Titon. The Hutt wants to sell this one at the slave market on Ohnazee."

Titon only grunted at Vol‘s words, his piggish eyes staring at Aalea with such hatred she found herself trembling.

Vol then sidled next to Aalea. He yanked her off the cot and grabbed her chin with his thin, sweaty fingers.

"A beauty like this will fetch a first-rate price,“ he said. “And her being a Jedi will sweeten the pot. But not if she's all banged up."

Aalea tried to jerk her face away from Vol's fingers.

Titon guffawed. "I don't think she likes you, Vol."

Vol smirked at Aalea and caressed her neck. His fingers felt like worms crawling on her. Then he reached over and slowly stroked the blood trickling from her mouth. Grinning wickedly, he leaned down and licked at the side of her mouth with his thick, wet tongue. Elyssa shuddered.

"Hmmm, so sweet," Vol murmured, his eyes roaming over her face.

Titon pushed at Vol. "Hey! No marks."

Vol ignored Titon as he leered at Aalea. He pulled her close.

"Ah, little beauty, what I’d do to you wouldn’t leave marks. Unless you wanted them, of course. You might even like it."

"I doubt that," Aalea said as she stared coldly back at him.

Vol snickered. He lifted his hand and twisted one of her breasts. Aalea winced. Then he began to pull and tweak her nipple through the cloth of her tunic. Aalea wanted to vomit as she felt it hardening quickly under his rough fingers.

“You got little tits, pretty Jedi,” Vol said grinning. “Me, I usually like ’em big and juicy, but you seem hot enough. Hmmm, I wonder what this sweet little nipple of yours is gonna taste like when I suck on it?”

Aalea bit her lip, tears of shame welling in her eyes as Vol continued to fondle her breast, his fingers roughly pinching her nipple. Titon watched them for a moment, his eyes pooling with disgust. Then he grabbed Vol’s hand.

“That’s enough, Vol,” he growled.

Vol turned on him, his eyes blazing.

“Just because you like little boys doesn’t mean I can’t have my fun with her,” he snarled.

Titon’s big face darkened and, for a moment, Aalea thought he was going to hit Vol. Instead Titon frowned, then coolly jerked the little man away from Aalea. He pushed her roughly back onto the cot.

"Let her alone, Vol. She belongs to the Hutt. He says he’s gonna move her off planet when the next transport ship arrives."

"When's that?" Vol grumbled sullenly.

"Two hours."

Fear pulsed through Aalea. She didn't have much time. If any of the Star Guard who had been with her and her master had escaped the plasma bombs, there wouldn’t be much time for them to stage a rescue.

As Titon and Vol turned away, Aalea called out to them.

“What happened to the officer who was with me?”

Vol turned back. A wet grin slashed across his foxy face.

“You talking ‘bout that high and mighty Star Guard officer, little Jedi? Well, I tell you one thing,” he sneered. “You lasted a lot longer than he did. And at the end he screamed. He screamed real nice for us, just like a Tarkasian bull at the slaughter. So don’t worry your pretty little head ‘bout him no more.”

He howled at that, then slid the cell door closed behind him.

Tears flowed from Aalea’s eyes as she lay on the cot. No, he couldn’t be dead. She should have protected him. She was a Jedi after all. That was what she had been trained to do. To protect and to serve. But she hadn’t and now he was dead. She had failed. And without access to the Force, Aalea doubted she would be able to find a way to free herself. Never had she felt so helpless and alone.

Aalea closed her eyes. And, as always, whenever she felt terribly frightened, she thought of Master Qui-Gon. For as long as Aalea could remember the tall Jedi Master had been a strong and gentle presence in her life. He was the one who had found her as a baby and taken her to the Jedi Temple. He was the one who, when she was a child, brought her stones from every world he visited on his missions. And he was the one she cried out for whenever she was afraid. And although she hadn’t seen Qui-Gon in nearly five years and didn’t even know where in the galaxy he was, she called out to him anyway with her heart.

/Master Qui-Gon. Help me./

Part Eleven

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

Qui-Gon frowned as he listened to Colonel Deaus’ report regarding the Star Guard raid which had led to the injury of one Jedi and the disappearance of another.

He and Obi-Wan had just arrived on Faronta, one of the Republic’s frontier worlds along the border of what was known as Wild Space. They were sitting in the colonel’s office at the Star Guard garrison. They had been sent by the Jedi Council to investigate reports that illegal weapons of mass destruction were being smuggled into the Republic.

“And you have no idea where Aalea and the Star Guard officer are?” Qui-Gon asked him.

“I’m afraid we don‘t, Master Jinn,” Colonel Deaus said, his brown-skinned face grim. “After those bastards hit us with plasma bombs, we barely got out alive. Knight Ke-Ondra, along with a large number of my forces, were injured in the explosions. As for Padawan Ve’Red and Lieutenant Davor, they were either captured or killed.”

Qui-Gon flinched. Obi-Wan shifted uneasily in the seat next to him.

Colonel Deaus shook his dark curly head.

“What in the name of the seven hells of Gol is a small-time gangster like Luba the Hutt doing with plasma bombs?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, Colonel,” Qui-Gon said.

Colonel Deaus’ black eyes hardened as he looked over at the Jedi.

“We knew Luba was smuggling weapons into the Republic but we thought it was small time stuff. Plasma bombs were banned by the Republic ages ago. If someone is stockpiling weapons like these....”

“It constitutes a grave threat to the Republic,” Qui-Gon said gravely. “Yes, Colonel, we know.”

Deaus stood. “Well, we appreciate any help you can give us, Master Jinn. My aide will escort you to your quarters.”

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan also stood.

“Thank you, Colonel," Qui-Gon said, "but my apprentice and I would like to be taken immediately to the last known location of Aalea and the officer.”

“Now?” Deaus asked.

“Yes, now,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “Time is of the essence, Colonel.”

Deaus shook his head. “If they were captured, I doubt they’re still alive, Master Jinn. Luba is a sadistic bastard and he employs the worst of the lot. Last time we rescued one of ours from those cutthroats, what we got back didn’t live long.”

Qui-Gon’s face twisted briefly in pain, but he quickly schooled his features into one of Jedi calm.

“I understand, Colonel. However, we would still like to be taken to that location. And as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll have one of my men fly you out there.”

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

Obi-Wan walked quickly in order to keep up with his master’s long strides as they made their way through the corridors of the garrison to the landing field. He could sense Qui-Gon's anxiety. He knew how much his master cared for Aalea. It was he who had found her as a baby and brought her to the Jedi Temple. And, as she had grown up Qui-Gon, when he was able, had spent much time with her, something Obi-Wan had never understood. Aalea wasn’t the only initiate Qui-Gon had brought to the Temple, but she was the only one he had gone out of his way to keep track of as she progressed through her training.

Five years ago when Aalea turned thirteen she was chosen by the Jedi Knight Ke-Ondra to be his padawan. Neither Obi-Wan nor Qui-Gon had seen her during the years she had served as Ke-Ondra‘s apprentice. Six months ago she and her master had been assigned to the Star Guard garrison on Faronta.

"Master," Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon continued to hurry down the passageway. Obi-Wan reached out and grabbed his arm. Qui-Gon stopped and looked down at Obi-Wan, his blue eyes questioning.

"What is it, Obi-Wan?"

“Perhaps we should consult with Knight Ke-Ondra before we leave. He may be able to help us find Aalea."

Qui-Gon didn‘t respond right away. Obi-Wan knew he was eager to start their search for Aalea and he sympathized with his haste. The longer they delayed, the likelier it was she would not survive her captivity. But if there was a chance Aalea’s master could help them, it would improve their chances of finding her.

Qui-Gon frowned. “You’re right, Obi-Wan. I should have thought of that.”

Obi-Wan smiled slightly. It wasn’t often that he had to remind Qui-Gon about anything.

“It’s all right Master. I know you‘re worried about her.”

Qui-Gon sighed and nodded. “Let’s find the infirmary. The colonel said Ke-Ondra was there.”

The two Jedi hurried back down the passageway into the interior of the garrison.

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

Aalea awoke and found that she was still imprisoned in the smuggler’s compound, her hands bound behind her, that mysterious metal collar which blocked her access to the Force still about her neck. Her dream she was at the Jedi Temple had been only that, a dream.

She quickly estimated how much time had passed as she’d slept. An hour and a half. If Vol was right they would be transporting her off planet soon.

Aalea struggled against her manacles. But it was no use. Without access to the Force, she was unable to summon the power to free herself. And she was still weak from Titon’s torture of her. Aalea tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. She realized she hadn’t had water in hours.

She took a deep breath and shouted as loudly as she could.

“Water! Please, I’m thirsty! I need water!”

She shouted for a few more minutes. Finally the cell door slid open.

“What are you screaming about?” Vol grumbled as he stepped into the cell.

“I’m thirsty.”

“No need to raise a ruckus about it,” he growled.

He turned and came back a moment later, a metal cup sloshing over with water in his hand. He pulled Aalea roughly off the cot and held the cup to her mouth.

Aalea drank quickly and, as she did, some of the water spilled down the front of her tunic. Vol’s beady eyes slithered down as the cloth clung wetly to her chest.

Aalea stopped drinking and Vol drew the cup away. He stared at her and Aalea could see the pupils in his kelp-colored eyes growing larger. He licked his thin lips as he gazed at the outline of her breasts under the wet cloth.

“You know,” he said hoarsely as he set the cup on the floor, his hand squeezing her arm, “I ain’t never fucked a Jedi before.”

Aalea tried to pull away from him, but the wall was against her back.

Vol leaned over her. Aalea could smell his stale sweat and the sour odor of alcohol on his breath.

“And you are the beauty, aren‘t you? Where did you get such pretty eyes?” he whispered huskily.

“Don’t touch me,” Aalea cried, a cold knot twisting in her stomach.

Vol pulled her tight against him. Aalea struggled to free her hands, but the manacles were tight.

“Don’t fight me, pretty little Jedi,” Vol hissed. “You’ll only make it worse. Now Titon, he likes to hurt women, not fuck ‘em. Not me. I‘m strictly a ladies‘ man.”

He lowered his mouth onto hers. Aalea struggled against him. Vol pushed her back onto the cot. Aalea tried to scream, but his mouth was pressed hard against hers and she could feel his tongue snaking over her lips as he tried to force it into her mouth.

Panic rose in Aalea, black and thick. She’d only been kissed once, by another initiate when she was twelve. His name had been Julon and she remembered that his lips had felt dry and cool on hers. Now she was about to be raped and lose her virginity to a stinking, brutal smuggler. Aalea’s throat tightened with both fear and anger.

Vol pressed her harder into the cot, his hands painfully squeezing her breasts. Aalea tried desperately to call upon the Force, but the collar blocked her access to it. The smuggler pulled roughly at her clothing, his hands seeking a way to her bare body.

“Why do you Jedi wear so much clothing?” he hissed against her mouth, his hands tearing at her tunic.

As Vol groped her, Aalea willed herself to calm down. Then, moving her body as she struggled against him, she managed to get her knee up between his legs. She shoved it hard into his groin.

He bellowed and jumped up.

“You bitch,” he roared. “Now I’m gonna hurt you real bad and then I’ll fuck you ‘till you bleed!”

He rushed at her, his fists raised to strike her.

Aalea quickly pushed herself up, lashed out with her foot and hit Vol in the chest. He backpedaled across the floor and slammed against the wall. As he struggled to lunge at her again, Aalea leapt off the cot, jumped, and kicked him hard across the face.

Vol wheeled back and his head cracked against the wall. He slid, unconscious, to the floor. Aalea took a deep breath, then knelt next to him. She turned around, leaned back and searched through his clothing. She found the slipkey for the manacles and quickly freed her hands. She then searched desperately for the key to the collar, but Vol didn’t have it on him.

Aalea stood. Humiliation flooded through her as she stared down at the unconscious Vol. She could still taste his foul mouth on hers, still feel his coarse hands groping at her body. Her lips curled in disgust and, before she could stop herself, she kicked him viciously in the side.

Then shame spread through her. That was not the Jedi way. A proper Jedi would not have done such a thing. Aalea swallowed heavily and tears burned her eyes. She was glad Master Qui-Gon had not seen what she’d just done. He would be so disappointed in her. Yet, she couldn’t help but wish he were there with her.

She shook her head. She could not afford to distract herself with feeble hopes. Qui-Gon was far away, probably on the other side of the galaxy. She had only herself to rely on if she hoped to escape.

Pressing open the cell door, Aalea glanced down both sides of the hallway. It was empty. She entered the hallway and sealed the cell door closed behind her. She wasn’t sure which way would get her out of the complex, so she decided to go left and hoped her intuition was right.

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

The Star Guard doctor looked sympathetically at Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon as she described Ke-Ondra’s condition. She was a middle-aged woman with dark brown eyes and short gray hair. She had introduced herself as Dr. Malica.

“Knight Ke-Ondra was severely injured from the blast of the plasma bombs," she said. She then turned and gestured about the medical ward. “As were many others.”

Obi-Wan frowned as he looked about. The beds were full of Star Guard personnel who had been caught in the blast. Plasma bombs not only burned the outside of the body, the radiation affected the nervous system. Even if a patient survived their burns they were often left completely paralyzed.

Dr. Malica turned and indicated that Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon should follow her.

"Our medical facilities are somewhat crude," she said as she walked quickly through the ward, her boots squeaking on the floor. She stopped in front of a bio-bed around which a stasis field hummed.

Obi-Wan peered through the shimmering field. Knight Ke-Ondra was lying on the bed. Bacta bandages covered his entire body and bio monitors beeped softly around him. Obi-Wan wondered why the Jedi wasn’t inside a bacta tank, then recalled the doctor’s words about the crudeness of their facility.

“We have him in the stasis field to prevent further infection,” Dr. Malica explained. “His burns were the most serious. He was found sheltering one of the men with his body. He’s been in a coma since he was brought in."

When Qui-Gon edged closer to the field, Obi-Wan moved next to him.

Ke-Ondra was a Devaronian or, as the males were known, a Devish. They were humanoids, but the males were completely hairless and sported a pair of horns atop their head and sharp teeth in their mouths.

Many species were uncomfortable around them for the Devish resembled the devils and demons of thousands of myths. However, Obi-Wan knew Ke-Ondra was a very spiritual being who preferred peaceful solutions to violence. His mastership of Aalea, by all accounts, had been successful and the tempestuous young woman had learned much under his tutelage, or so Obi-Wan had heard.

“This complicates things,” Qui-Gon said softly.

He turned and looked down at Obi-Wan.

“We must get Ke-Ondra back to the Jedi Temple as soon as possible. Yet, without his assistance, it will be that much harder to find Aalea.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “We’ll have to find her on our own.”

“There may be another way. What about your Force bond with Aalea?”

Obi-Wan jerked in surprise. Ten years ago, in order to save her life, Obi-Wan had bonded with the then eight-year old Aalea. However, over the past ten years neither he nor Aalea had ever spoken of or utilized their bond. They had shielded against each other from day one and had gone on with their lives as if it did not exist.

He looked up at Qui-Gon.

“Master, Aalea and I...regarding the bond. We haven’t....we’ve shielded from the other since the day I bonded with her."

“But it still exists?”

“Yes, but....”

“Find her,” Qui-Gon said and his stern blue gaze indicated he would tolerate no more excuses from his padawan.

Obi-Wan looked over at Dr. Malica who had been closely following the conversation between them. Noting Obi-Wan’s expression, she shrugged.

“There’s nothing Knight Ke-Ondra can do to help, I’m afraid.”

Obi-Wan nodded, then looked back at Qui-Gon. His master was watching him closely and Obi-Wan was afraid the apprehension which was in his heart was evident on his face.

“Yes, Master,” he finally said. This was not the time nor the place to try to explain to Qui-Gon his reservations regarding the Force bond he had so rashly forged with Aalea. He had been given an order. His personal feelings did not matter.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and lowered the mental shields he had erected against the bond. He then thought of Aalea. The last time he’d seen her had been five years ago at her padawan acceptance ceremony. He had not wanted to attend, but Qui-Gon had been invited and had ordered Obi-Wan to accompany him.

Obi-Wan briefly recalled the ceremony; the way Aalea had looked with her heart-shaped face, large violet eyes and night black hair, her padawan braid lying heavy against her shoulder.

And he also remembered that at one point during the ceremony she had looked over at him and Qui-Gon. Her gaze had fastened on Obi-Wan and she had given him an quick angry look. Now, as Obi-Wan’s consciousness streaked along their Force bond in search of her, he couldn‘t for the life of him recall what she had been so angry about.

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

Aalea hid behind a barrel as two kitchen droids clanked by. She had made it undiscovered to the compound’s kitchen, although she’d had a few close calls. Without access to the Force she felt as if she were deaf and blind. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to depend upon it. And her lightsaber. Although her master had taught her how to defend herself without it, she missed the weight of it in her hand.

Aalea reached under the collar to where it rubbed against her skin. If she ever got this thing off her neck it was going to leave a nasty bruise.

The two droids finally left the kitchen. Aalea darted from behind the barrel and stole alongside the wall, keeping close to the shadows. Fifteen minutes had passed since she had escaped from her cell and so far it appeared her absence had not been noted. She reached the large doors at the end of the kitchen. There were two windows atop the doors. She stood on tiptoes and looked through them.

Inside was a storage room. At the far end was a loading ramp. The ramp was closed, but there were skylights above it and through them Aalea could see the Farontan sky. She noted that it was starting to brighten towards dawn.

Aalea pushed against the doors. Just as she was about to run through them, she heard a rumbling laugh. Her heart thudded in her chest. She turned around.

Titon stood behind her. He was holding a blaster which was aimed at her chest. Next to him towered a Hutt who eyed Aalea with amusement.

“Well done, little one, well done. I congratulate you on getting this far. Aren’t you impressed, Titon?”

“Not really, Lord Luba. This little Jedi bitch would’ve never gotten away from me,” he growled.

Aalea glared at Titon, but she also kept her eyes focused on her lightsaber which was still clipped to his belt.

“Now, now, Titon,” Luba said. “You really should watch your language. I, on the other hand, am not as uncouth as my employees.” He looked over at Aalea. “For example, my dear, allow me to apologize for what Vol tried to do to you in your cell.”

He turned back to Titon. “You will see that Vol is properly punished, won‘t you, Titon. Knowing the Jedi and their peculiar views on sex, which seems to involve no sex, this one is most likely a virgin. Vol’s clumsy attempts at rape would have substantially reduced her value on the slave market.”

Aalea’s cheeks burned as the Hutt looked down at her, his large eyes glittering with delight.

“Don’t be embarrassed, little Jedi. None of these mushbrains know that I have surveillance cameras installed in the cells. Sometimes I like to watch my men have their fun with the prisoners.”

Luba reached down and patted Titon on the head. Titon flinched at the Hutt’s touch and his face paled to a deathly white. Aalea guessed he was probably recalling his earlier words in the cell about Luba being a big blob of pus and wondering how much the Hutt had heard.

“But Vol‘s instincts were on the mark,” Luba continued as he leered down at Aalea. “For you certainly are the beauty. I’m almost tempted to keep you for myself.” His thick tongue slid over his lipless mouth. “But, that wasn’t very Jedi-like, kicking Vol when he was unconscious.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn‘t have done that.”

Luba’s eyes widened in surprise.

“An apology, little one? But, he was going to hurt you. And most unpleasantly. How curious you Jedi are.”

Aalea inched closer to Titon. She could see that he was still mulling over what Luba had heard of his remarks in the cell.

She leapt towards him and slammed the blaster from his hand. Titon swung at her with his fist. Aalea ducked under the swing, then grabbed her lightsaber from his belt. Twisting under him, she back-flipped away and ignited her weapon.

Titon made as if to charge her, but Luba grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. He then looked over at Aalea and dipped his massive head.

“Again, well done, little one. I see that even without the Force as an ally, you Jedi are not to be underestimated.”

Aalea pointed her lightsaber at him.

“Unlock this collar.”

Luba reached into a bag that was slung across his corpulent body. He pulled out a small metal box. There were two studs on it, one green, the other red.

“The key, little Jedi,” Luba said as he waved it at her. "But, as my uncle the great Jabba the Hutt is fond of saying; be careful what you wish for. You may get it."

He smiled wickedly and pressed the red stud.

Aalea screamed as waves of pain surged through her. She dropped to her knees, her lightsaber clattering to the floor. She lifted her hands to the collar on her neck, clawing at it with trembling fingers.

“Interesting gadget this Force collar,” Luba said thoughtfully as he watched Aalea twisting on the floor. “It’s a Force nullifier combined with a device which causes pain by nerve induction. Not only does it hobble the Jedi, Titon, it tames them too.”

Titon nodded appreciatively. He picked up Aalea’s lightsaber, switched it off and clipped it to his belt.

“I knew she would have a pretty scream,” he said grinning as he watched Aalea writhing on the floor, her shrieks ripping through the air.

Luba scowled at Titon. He didn’t care for Titon taking pleasure in the Jedi female’s torment. She was such a lovely little thing and Luba didn’t want to permanently damage such valuable property. He lifted his big thumb off the red stud.

Aalea gasped and rolled, shuddering, onto her side. Tears blurred her vision and spittle ran down her chin. Sobbing, she drew her knees up to her chest as her body twitched from aftershocks of the pain.

“Take her to the transport ship, Titon. I would keep her for myself, but I fear in the end she would prove to be more trouble than she is worth.”

“As you wish, Lord Luba.”

Titon bent down, hoisted Aalea up and slung her over his shoulder. Just before she sank into unconsciousness, the last thing she heard was the Hutt laughing at her.

Part Twelve

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

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan closed his eyes. He would talk with him later regarding his Force bond with Aalea. He was curious about the anxiety he had sensed from Obi-Wan regarding it. But first they had to find Aalea. Ke-Ondra had been a good master to her and Qui-Gon knew he had taught her well. She would survive. She had to survive.

Suddenly Obi-Wan cried out and fell to his knees. He lifted his hands to his neck.

Qui-Gon and Dr. Malica rushed to him.

“Obi-Wan, what is it?” Qui-Gon cried.

Obi-Wan’s face twisted in pain. He clawed at his neck as if he were trying to remove something.

“Aalea,” he gasped.

Dr. Malica reached towards a belt on her tunic and pulled out a small orange patch. Qui-Gon recognized it as an pain reducer. He grabbed her arm. Her head snapped up at him, her eyes questioning.

“No, that won’t help,” he said quickly. “Something must have happened to Aalea. Obi-Wan is experiencing her pain.”

Obi-Wan dug desperately at his neck, his face contorted in agony. Qui-Gon grabbed his hands to keep him from scratching the skin. Then Obi-Wan exhaled a deep shuddering breath and slumped to the floor.

Qui-Gon knelt next to him as Dr. Malica quickly checked his vital signs.

She looked over at Qui-Gon. “His vitals are all right.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Qui-Gon.

“I found her, Master,” he gasped, his eyes glistening with tears from the pain he had experienced through the bond.

“What happened, Obi-Wan?”

“I wasn’t prepared, Master. Forgive me.” Obi-Wan took a deep, cleansing breath. “It was strange. Even with her mental shields up, I should have sensed something from Aalea, but at first there was nothing. It was almost as if she no longer existed. Then, suddenly, there was pain. Terrible pain. Then nothing.”

“Is she dead?” Qui-Gon asked, fearing the answer.

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression grim. “I don’t know, Master.”

“Did you get a fix on her location?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

Qui-Gon helped Obi-Wan to his feet. He swayed slightly.

Qui-Gon reached out to him, but Obi-Wan raised his hand.

“I’m fine, Master.”

“Are you sure?”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. “Yes. But we must hurry.”

Qui-Gon nodded. He quickly thanked the doctor for her help. Then he and Obi-Wan ran out of the infirmary.

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

Obi-Wan looked out the window of the Star Guard ship as it skimmed over the dusty surface of Faronta. Long brown mountains stretched along the horizon. Bare twisted iron trees dotted the landscape and thin slivers of rust-colored streamlets trickled through murky gorges.

What a desolate place, Obi-Wan thought. He wondered how Aalea had felt being stationed here. He looked behind him and saw that the other Star Guard ships were keeping tight formation behind them.

When Qui-Gon had informed Colonel Deaus that Obi-Wan had found Aalea, the colonel had slammed his fist on his desk. His lips beneath his thick black mustache had stretched into a fierce grin.

“I’ve got that bastard Hutt now!” he crowed. He had immediately marshaled together a strike force.

Obi-Wan turned back towards the interior of the ship. He and Qui-Gon were sitting in the passenger seats behind the pilot and Colonel Deaus.
The sun was just rising over the horizon and it lit up his master’s head so that a golden nimbus appeared to surround it. Qui-Gon had been silent and tense all through their flight. Obi-Wan wished he could give him some news about Aalea that would ease his fears, but Obi-Wan had sensed nothing else from her. He didn’t know if she was dead, unconscious or if his access to her was being blocked in some way.

Obi-Wan looked towards the cockpit as Colonel Deaus barked orders to his squadron over the ship’s comlink. Peering through the front windows, he saw they were fast approaching a mining compound. From a distance it didn’t look any different from the dozens of other mining compounds they had passed. But Obi-Wan knew this was the one where Aalea was being held. Their ship, along with the rest of the squadron, sped towards it.

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

Luba the Hutt was in his quarters wolfing down his customary daybreak meal of Odorian snarklings. They were especially fresh that morning, wriggling and squealing most delightfully as he popped them into his mouth. Suddenly the compound’s alarms blared.

“What in the name of the seven hells of Gol is going on?” he roared.

His aide, a Bith by the name of Gsun, rushed in, his lidless black eyes wide with terror.

“My lord! We’re being attacked!” he gibbered.

“Attacked? By whom?”

“The Star Guard, my lord.”

Luba’s three hearts lurched in his chest. _Blast those meddling do-gooders_, he thought angrily. Would they ever leave him in peace? He wondered how they had found his back-up hideout so quickly. He slid past the hysterical Gsun into the hallway. Chaos reigned as his men rushed past him.

“Gsun!” Luba shouted. “Find Titon. Tell him to ready another salvo of plasma bombs.”

“But my lord, the Trade Federation is expecting this consignment. We already used up half of it when the Star Guard attacked the other hideout. If we use these, we’ll have nothing to deliver.”

Luba turned and struck Gsun hard across the face. The Bith slammed against the wall and slid down.

“Do as I say you farking idiot!” Luba bellowed. “We’ll have nothing to deliver if the thrice-damned Star Guard take over the compound.”

“Yes, my lord,” Gsun whimpered. He stood up, his hand clutching his face as he scurried down the hallway.

Luba watched Gsun run off. Then something else his Uncle Jabba had once said popped into his head: know when it’s time to cut and run. Luba’s intuition told him this was one of those times. He slid back into his quarters, grabbed the pouch with the Force collar key and his credit-chit in it and hurried toward the landing field.

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

As soon as the Star Guard ship landed, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan leapt out and activated their lightsabers.

Colonel Deaus ran off to the right, shouting orders to his men as the rest of his squadron landed. Qui-Gon looked around quickly. To his left he saw a transport ship, its engines revving. Then he saw a Hutt gliding up a ramp into the ship.

“Obi-Wan” Qui-Gon shouted. “This way.”

He ran towards the ship, Obi-Wan behind him. Three smugglers ran around a building, blasters firing. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon quickly deflected the shots. Obi-Wan then swung his lightsaber at one of the smugglers, singeing him on his wrist. The smuggler yowled and dropped his blaster.

The other two continued firing at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon’s lightsaber was a green blur as he deflected their shots. He quickly disarmed one of the smugglers, then noted out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan leaping to his side, his lightsaber a blue flame. The other smuggler dropped his blaster and raised his arms in surrender.

The transport ship engines roared.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon cried. “We have to stop that ship. Luba’s on it. Aalea is probably with him.”

Obi-Wan nodded. A Star Guard ran past the Jedi. Obi-Wan grabbed him and quickly turned their prisoner over to him. Then he followed his master who was already running towards the transport.

Qui-Gon slid to a stop in front of the ship. The pilot peered angrily out the cockpit window at him. Calling upon the Force, Qui-Gon reached out his hand and gestured toward the pilot.

“Power down the engines” he said softly. The pilot grimaced as he felt Qui-Gon touch his mind. Then his face went slack and suddenly the engines died.

Qui-Gon ran to the side of the ship, Obi-Wan beside him. They punched their lightsabers through the side, quickly carving an opening. Hot metal sizzled to the ground. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon leapt through the opening. Blaster fire arched towards them which, together, they deflected back to the smugglers.

Obi-Wan then flipped through the air and landed behind two smugglers who were crouched behind a wall of cases. They scrambled to turn around, their blasters tracking him. Obi-Wan kicked one of them in the face, knocking him unconscious. He then swung his lightsaber and sliced the hand off the other. The smuggler screamed and clutched his arm to his chest.

Qui-Gon, meanwhile, had taken care of the remaining smugglers. He ran down the passageway. Turning a corner, he stopped before a huge metal door. He placed his hand on it and let the Force flow through him. The Hutt was behind the locked door. Stepping back, Qui-Gon thrust his lightsaber through the door.

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

Luba felt as if his three hearts were going to burst through his chest when he saw the lightsaber burning through the door. He looked frantically around. He had no weapons, nothing with which to defend himself. Then he glanced over to where Aalea lay unconscious on a bunk.

She was a Jedi and a Jedi was coming through the door. Maybe he could use her as a bargaining chip. He reached into his pouch and pulled out the key to the Force collar. Then holding the key in front of him like a weapon, he waited as the Jedi continued to force his way into the room.

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

Obi-Wan joined Qui-Gon. He thrust his lightsaber through the door and the two quickly carved an entrance into the room. They ran through the opening and stopped. Luba was pointing a small metal box at them.

“S-s-stand back, I’m warning you,” Luba shouted.

Qui-Gon was about to advance on the Hutt, when Obi-Wan grabbed his arm.

“Master. Over there.”

Qui-Gon turned to where Obi-Wan was pointing. It was Aalea. She was lying in a heap on a bunk. Qui-Gon could sense she was alive, but unconscious. There was a strange looking collar about her neck and he surmised it was the source of the pain Obi-Wan had felt when he had found her along their bond.

He turned back to the Hutt.

“Remove that thing from her,” he said, his blue eyes like ice.

“No! And if you don’t get off my ship, I’ll kill her,” Luba cried. He raised the box, his thumb hovering over a red stud.

Obi-Wan moved towards Luba, his face grim. Qui-Gon reached out and pulled him back.

“Remove that thing from her,” Qui-Gon repeated.

“Oh, I really hope you’re not trying to use that Jedi mind trick on me,” Luba sneered, “because it won’t work.”

Qui-Gon looked up at the Hutt. “I won’t have to use it on you, Luba, because you _will_ remove that device from her.”

“Really? Well, if you don’t get off this ship it will come off her, but by then she’ll be dead.”

Qui-Gon felt anger building inside him. From what he had seen of Obi-Wan’s torment, he could only imagine what Aalea had experienced. And now this Hutt dared to bargain for his own pitiful existence with her life.

He glared at the Hutt and noted with satisfaction the fear flickering within his bulbous eyes. From outside the ship, Qui-Gon heard blasting and shouting as the Star Guard moved through the compound.

“You can’t escape, Luba,” Qui-Gon said. “Even if I let you go, the Star Guard will not.”

“They will if you tell them to,” Luba cried. He was trembling, his grip on the box wavering.

Qui-Gon noted Obi-Wan was moving slowly to the side of the Hutt.

“That I will not do,” he said.

“Not even to save her?” Luba shouted as he gestured towards Aalea with the box.

“She is a Jedi. The Jedi are always prepared to die in service to others.”

“I don’t believe you,” Luba cried and he pressed down on the red stud. Aalea’s body convulsed on the bunk.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan launched himself at the Hutt, his lightsaber raised. Luba screamed as the young Jedi soared towards him. Obi-Wan swung his lightsaber down. Luba shrieked. His hand, cleanly severed from the arm, dropped to the floor still clutching the box.

Qui-Gon ran and picked up the still twitching hand. He snatched the box from the thick fingers and pushed the green stud. The collar unclicked from about Aalea’s neck. Qui-Gon ran over to her. Her body had stopped jerking, but she was still unconscious. Qui-Gon picked up the collar with distaste and tossed it to the side. He then gently lifted Aalea up in his arms. He gazed down at her, noting how much she had grown in the last five years. No longer was she the little girl who used to run to hug his neck. A young woman now lay in his arms.

Luba howled like a flock of Odulvian sundevils as he clutched his arm to his chest, his thick tail thrashing on the floor. He glared at Obi-Wan who stood guard over him.

The sound of running boots drew Qui-Gon’s glance to the door. Colonel Deaus ran in, a squad of Star Guard behind him. He quickly took in the scene and a broad white grin split his dark face.

“You’re under arrest, you son of a scrag!” he shouted at the Hutt.

Luba’s only response was to scream even louder.

Obi-Wan went over to Qui-Gon as the Star Guard took Luba into custody. He looked down at Aalea as she lay unconscious in his master’s arms. Even with her long black hair in disarray, shadows under her eyes, and bruises on her face and neck, Obi-Wan was amazed at how beautiful she had become.

“Is she all right, Master?” he asked.

Qui-Gon looked over at him.

“Yes, she’ll be all right now. Thanks to you, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Let’s get her out of here, Master” he said softly.

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

Qui-Gon sat in a chair next to Aalea’s bed in the Star Guard infirmary. Dr. Malica had examined her and determined she had suffered no serious injuries. However, when the doctor told him there was evidence of torture, Qui-Gon felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. He was afraid to ask the next question, but Dr. Malica anticipated him.

“There was no evidence of any sexual violation, Master Jinn.” She had then patted his arm and left him alone with Aalea.

Now, as he watched her sleep, Qui-Gon found himself wondering if he had done the right thing in bringing Aalea to the Temple. It was part of his duty to the Order to seek out Force gifted children like her and bring them to the Temple for training. For out of the trillions of sentient beings in the galaxy only a tiny percentage had the potential to become Jedi.

Yet, it was a hard and dangerous life. Most initiates chose to stay as they grew older, but there were some who decided the rigors and sacrifices were too much and left. Aalea, however, had never wavered in her desire to become a Jedi Knight. Now that desire had nearly cost the young woman her life. Qui-Gon sighed.

The sound of footsteps behind drew his gaze from her. He looked up. Obi-Wan stood next to him. He laid his hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder.

“How is she, Master?” he whispered.

Qui-Gon stood and gestured Obi-Wan away from Aalea’s bed to a corner of the ward.

“Dr. Malica says she should make a full recovery,” Qui-Gon said quietly. “Although Luba allowed her to be tortured,” and his voice choked on the word, “he did not let his men hurt her in such a way as to cause permanent damage. According to his confession, he had planned to sell Aalea at the slave markets on Ohnazee.”

Obi-Wan grimaced at the mention of the slave markets.

“Did Luba say anything about the collar that was on her neck? Where it came from?” he asked.

Qui-Gon shook his head. “He was free enough with information about his smuggling activities; he even gave Colonel Deaus a lead as to where the plasma bombs were being shipped. But when I questioned him on the collar, where it had come from and who it was intended for, he shut up as tight as a Corellian clamfish. Whoever that collar was going to, Luba was more afraid of them than he was of me.”

“I’ve never heard of anything like it,” Obi-Wan said.

“Nor have I. I’m taking it back with us to Coruscant. Maybe someone at the Temple can determine its origin.”

“Was there just the one?”

“Yes. Luba was trying it on Aalea to see if it worked.”

Obi-Wan reached up and touched his neck.

“It certainly worked,” he said softly, a spasm of pain flashing across his face. He then passed a lightsaber over to Qui-Gon.

“Colonel Deaus gave this to me. It’s Aalea’s. He took it off a smuggler who was trying to rig up the plasma bombs. Colonel Deaus killed him before he got a chance to launch them.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I’ll see she gets it. Have you made arrangements for our transport back to Coruscant?”

“Yes, Master. The _Ascendant_ should be here in about six hours. They’ll have the necessary medical equipment on board so we can transport Knight Ke-Ondra and Aalea.”

“Good.” Qui-Gon looked closer at Obi-Wan and noted the shadows under his eyes. “You should get some rest.”

“What about you, Master? You should rest also.”

“I will. Later. I’m going to sit with Aalea for a while.”

“Would you like me to sit with you?”

Qui-Gon put his hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder and squeezed it.

“Thank you for offering, but that won’t be necessary.” He shook Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Now, get some rest, Padawan. That‘s an order.”

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan turned, looked over at Aalea for a long moment, then walked out of the infirmary toward their quarters on the outpost.

Qui-Gon returned to Aalea’s bedside and sat down heavily in the chair. He laid her lightsaber on the nightstand. As he watched her sleep, he wondered again if he had done the right thing in setting her on a path so fraught with sacrifice and danger.

********************

Aalea awoke. The first thing she noted was that her eyes were so gritty she couldn’t open them. The second was there didn’t seem to be a single spot on her body that wasn’t sore. Next, that she was in a bed, wrapped snugly in a blanket.

Then she heard sounds; machines beeping, soft moaning, labored coughs, the squeak of boots on a hard floor. Next, smells; medicinal odors, blood and sweat, and even, farther away, the acrid smell of oil and machinery. _I’m alive_, she thought.

Then she realized she could feel the Force again. The collar was no longer about her neck and as the Force flowed through her, Aalea drank of it like one who had thirsted far too long.

However, because she had been blocked from the Force for some time, her customary mental shields against the Force bond she shared with Obi-Wan were no longer up. As a result she felt him in her mind. He was nearby, sleeping, so he wasn’t aware she was sensing him, but his dreams touched her thoughts like the distant tinkling of wind chimes. Aalea quickly raised her mental shields. _Where was she?_

She struggled to open her eyes. Suddenly she felt hands on her face, gentle and soft, then a warm wetness across her eyelids. Someone was washing the grit from them. The cloth was then removed.

Aalea opened her eyes slowly. The room she was in was softly lit. She recognized it as the infirmary at the Star Guard garrison. She had been here once when she had broken her leg sparring with her master. She turned her head slightly and looked up.

She gasped and, for a moment, thought she was dreaming for gazing down at her and smiling was Master Qui-Gon! He held a cloth in his hand and Aalea realized it was he who had bathed her eyes.

“Master Qui-Gon,” Aalea cried. “What are you doing here?”

She struggled to sit up.

“No, Aalea, you mustn’t get up.”

He laid the cloth down on a table next to him and gently pressed her back onto the bed.

Aalea laid down. She couldn’t believe he was really here with her. It had been five years since she’d last seen him and, although he hadn‘t changed much, she noted there was more gray in his beard and in his hair. But his eyes were still the same, a warm deep blue that looked softly down at her.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Sore. Thirsty.”

Qui-Gon turned and walked quickly over to the nurse’s station. Aalea watched as he poured water into a cup and hurried back to her. He leaned down and, supporting her back, lifted the cup to her lips. Aalea gulped the water down.

“Not too much,” he said gently.

Aalea stopped drinking and laid down. Qui-Gon placed the cup on the nightstand.

“Thank you, Master.

“Now, you should get try and get some rest, Aalea" he said. "We’ll be leaving for Coruscant in a few hours.”

“Coruscant? But, my master and I still have three months to go on our assignment here.”

Qui-Gon took Aalea's hand in his. As always, she marveled at how large it was. Although she was no longer a little girl, her hand still seemed to disappear in his.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Aalea, but Ke-Ondra was severely injured by the plasma bombs. He’s been in a coma ever since the raid.”

Aalea’s heart tore open. _No, not her master!_ Her eyes filled with tears.

“Will he be all right?”

Qui-Gon squeezed her hand. “I don’t know, Aalea. But, if anyone can help him the Healers at the Temple can.”

Aalea nodded, then closed her eyes as she tried to reach out to her master through the Force. She sensed him, but he was unconscious. Although she didn’t share a bond with him like the one she had with Obi-Wan, over the years she and her master had developed a close enough relationship that they were able to sense each other’s presence through the Force. Even though Aalea knew he couldn’t sense her she sent him thoughts of strength and affection.

/I’m here, Master. I’m here/

Then she felt Qui-Gon’s hand on her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw her own concern for her master’s well-being in his eyes.

“He’ll be fine, Aalea.”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled up at him, determined to show him how brave she could be, even as fear for her master flooded through her.

Qui-Gon stroked her cheek, then sat back. “Now, try and get some rest.”

“But, what are you doing here, Master? How did you find me?”

Qui-Gon quickly explained how he and Obi-Wan had been sent by the Council to investigate reports that weapons of mass destruction were being smuggled into the Republic through Faronta. They had arrived shortly after the first Star Guard raid on Luba’s hideout. He told her of their rescue of her and the capture of Luba. He then picked up her lightsaber and showed it to her.

“What happened to the man who had it?” she asked.

“Colonel Deaus killed him.”

Aalea closed her eyes. She knew it was not the Jedi way to desire the death of any living being, but Titon’s demise she did not mourn nor regret. She almost asked Qui-Gon if Vol were dead too, but just the thought of him brought back horrible memories of his touch and his smell. And the way she had kicked him as he lay unconscious on the floor.

She opened her eyes and all thoughts of Titon and Vol fled from her mind as she looked up at Qui-Gon. He was here and she was safe.

"Master, you said Obi-Wan found me. But you didn't say how."

Qui-Gon cleared his throat. He sensed that the Force bond between Aalea and Obi-Wan was as much of an issue for her as it appeared to be for his apprentice. She watched him closely, her violet eyes puzzled.

"He used your Force bond to find you," Qui-Gon finally said.

Aalea frowned. The Force bond? She and Obi-Wan had never used their Force bond. She was aware of it, of course, but as she had started shielding against it soon after Obi-Wan had forged it, it had become like background noise to her. Something she was conscious of, but didn’t pay much attention to.

She glanced up at Qui-Gon. "But I was blocked by that collar, Master. He shouldn't have been able to sense me at all."

"That is true. But when Luba used the collar on you, Obi-Wan felt your pain through the bond. I believe the intensity of that pain broke through the collar‘s influence just long enough for him to sense you."

"He felt that?" Aalea whispered.

Qui-Gon nodded. "It was quite painful for him. I can't imagine what it was like for you."

"Horrible," she said, her voice distant.

Qui-Gon reached over and stroked her face.

"Don't think of it, little one. You're safe now. And soon you‘ll be back at the Temple"

Aalea nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to Courscant. At least I’ll get to see Cian again. Did you know she’s living on Coruscant now, Master? She left the University of Alderaan and took a position with the Intergalactic Diplomatic Corps.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“She’s also getting married. She told me so in her last hololetter. To someone named Sundancer. He‘s an officer in the Republic Forces.”

Aalea was surprised to see pain in Qui-Gon’s eyes.

“When?” he asked.

“Excuse me, Master?”

“When is she getting married?”

“In a few months, I think.”

“I see,” he said slowly. “I guess I’ve been somewhat out of touch.”

“Are you all right, Master?” Aalea was concerned by the sadness she heard in his voice.

“Yes, I‘m fine. Now, I want you to get some rest,” he said.

“But I want to talk---.”

Qui-Gon reached down and slowly stroked her hair back with his hand.

“Go to sleep,” he said softly.

And before Aalea could say another word, she felt herself falling asleep. She realized with a start that Qui-Gon had used the Jedi mind trick on her.

_I didn’t know Jedi could do that to each other_, she thought just before she slipped into the warm welcoming darkness.