Ashes in the Wind

by TeLynn

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan go on a mission to stabilize a political caucus, meeting a pair of mysterious women.

Ashes in the Wind "Master, if I understand this correctly. Our mission is to observe the caucus, and offer our services as advisors." The young redheaded Padawan reviewed his notes on the small hand held viewer. "Yes, Obi-Wan. We are not here as officials of the Council or the Senate. The Provisional Government of Vassenis feels our presence would keep order and show that both the Senate and the Council have concerns for proper political development." Master Qui-Gon stood watching out the large floor to ceiling window of the small transport. He enjoyed watching finale approach; it demonstrated just how big the universe really was. A small dot far off in space manifested into a living-breathing world, filled with life and often civilization. The claxon sounded for all passengers to secure themselves and prepare for landing, something both Jedi had done many times before. Qui-Gon stayed at the window as Obi-Wan sat at the table. The two Jedi stood at the commlink terminal, Master Qui-Gon was talking to a humanoid female. "Madam, we have reservations for today, we need lodging." "Please Master Jinn, understand with the political festival and all the delegates that have arrived. Your quarters will be ready in five days. On the day indicated by your Jedi Order." She sighed and looked at computer "Sir Jinn, I'm quite afraid with the celebrations of pre-elections everything in town is booked up. Your rooms will be ready in five days. That is when the caucus begins everything until then is parties and kissing babies." "Yes," The Master Jedi sighed. "I understand your part in this mess, the Force will guide us, thank you for your troubles." The screen went blank. "So then Master, we have no rooms, not for five days." Obi-Wan looked around the spaceport. Mixed in with the good folk were also the scum and villainy this kind of political conference brought. The question was, which were the good and which were the villains. "It appears so. Trust in the Force, my young Padawan." Qui-Gon pointed to the exit, and the two men moved out. As they came to the last set of stairs, Obi-Wan felt his boot heel catch on the step, and before he had a chance to call out, he was pushed from behind. Falling forwards he could feel the twisting pain of his anklebones snapping and the flesh ripping as the shards of broken bone moved through his skin and boot. Qui-Gon felt the rush of pain from his beloved Padawan. "Obi-Wan!" He called out. "Master, I'll be fine." The young man held back the rushing pain as best he could. Two men stopped to help, one was a field healer and the other was from an embassy on Coruscant. Both men were on the same transport, and had seen the Jedi on ship. The late morning arrival turned into a late afternoon in the hospital as Obi-Wan's leg was reset and the bones knitted. The thirty-five stitches were going to require constant care. "Master Jinn, your Padawan will need rest. Here are the pain meds. He'll be fine in about two, three weeks, keep the wounds clean and dry…" The Healer seemed to go on forever. Master Qui-Gon knew the drill but allowed the man to talk. He wondered where they would go. "I wish he could stay here in the hospital, but with the extra volume of people, we can only allow critical patents to stay." The healer was showing the signs of the overload. "Thank you Master Healer, we will be fine." Qui-Gon knew the Force would come through. Obi-Wan was tired and the pain was getting harder to hold back. The knitted bones should have been able to support Obi-Wan's weight, so it must be the torn flesh making it so hard for him to walk. Qui-Gon set Obi-Wan on a bench at the mass transit stop. "I'll go in here and see what I can find, rest here." Qui-Gon stepped into a small store. A young woman sat next to Obi-Wan, she quivered, then looked at him. "By all the Gods man, you're in horrible pain you should be indoors resting." Obi-Wan noticed her long light reddish-blonde braided hair and pale blue eyes. She was his height and svelte, her golden brown tan intensified her pale blue eyes. "Yes I would like that, but our room won't be ready for a few days. Do you know of a room we can rent?" Obi-Wan said in a breathy voice as the pain raced up his leg. "Hey! You're a Jedi!" She said with surprise. "Yes, both I and my Master." Obi-Wan pointed to the store behind them. "Well then I think you're safe, yeah you can stay with me and my… room mate." She smiled and that gave Obi-Wan a feeling of relief. // Master we have a place for at least one night. // Obi-Wan bonded with his Master. Qui-Gon stepped from the store; he had a bag of bandages and supplies in his hand. // Really? // "Master this is… I didn't get your name." Obi-Wan asked, a bit confused. "I'm called Maraté, and you're feverish. We need to get you in right away." She felt his head and saw the paleness in his face. "Come, I live just over there." She pointed to a well-groomed, clean, large building. She grabbed the bag from Qui-Gon's hand, and the two Jedi's packs. She added all this to the bags she already had. Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan up resting one arm over his shoulder. Maraté lead the way. The lobby of the building was also nice and clean. "Hey Lathro, these Jedi are going to stay with us, can we get a set of keys for them?" Maraté asked a short man from behind the counter. His reply wasn't much; he nodded and grunted as he watched the news on the upcoming caucus. "We live on the second floor. I don't think he'll make it." She touched his face. "Can you carry him?" She asked. Obi-Wan was pale with beads of sweat forming on his face, the pain was making him dazed and he was going into shock. "Yes." Qui-Gon called on the Force to help ease the pain Obi-Wan was feeling as he picked his Padawan up into his arms. On the second floor Maraté stopped at the first door and turned the key, "Here, put him on the couch for now." She instructed as she burst in. "Fiá! I'm home and I brought some Jedi types." She called out into the small apartment. The smell of cooking filled the air. Qui-Gon didn't realize just how hungry he was until then. The sound of a door shutting startled Obi-Wan, and he tried to sit up from the couch. "Rest." Qui-Gon reassured him with a hand on his forehead as he kneeled next to him. Obi-Wan sighed and settled down into the couch. Qui-Gon heard whispering behind him; he knew it was rude to listen in, and so resisted the temptation. "I see once again Maraté has found strays." A short woman came over to the couch. She looked at both Jedi. "You seem relatively harmless. If you're really Jedi." "Fiá, they're Jedi, I know. Look they have lightsabers." Maraté was like a child with a new fuzzy critter. "Yes, we are, I'm Qui-Gon Jinn and this is Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon introduced the two man team. "I can see that. Maraté you have a job to do, this one is injured, attend to him." Fiá glared at her. "And anyone can have a lightsaber." She added under her breath. Qiu-Gon stood up next to Fiá; he stood almost a half a meter over her. As he looked down at her, he noticed that her short curly black hair and dark green eyes were stunning against her pale white skin, plus her svelte body made her look even more petite. "Please, I feel this is an inconvenience, we'll rest for now and then be on our way." He felt something was different with these two women. "Not until morning," Fiá return to her cooking. "No! Fiá, they need a few days, they can't find a room until then." Maraté said as she added pillows under Obi-Wan's leg, and pulled back the torn and bloody pant leg. "Fine, Maraté. Whatever." She began to cut extra vegetables to add to the pot of stew. The blade she used was long and fine, but what got Qui-Gon's attention was not the blade but the way she used it. Fast and accurate, every piece of Carronm root was the same thickness. "Okay Jedi, here are some easy rules: see that window?" She pointed with the knife to an opened window. "Never close it, and we have only one bath." She pointed down a small hall behind her, "I'll move into Maraté's room with her, and I have no problem with it so don't start on me about that." "We really appreciate the help, the Jedi Council will compensate you for your troubles." Qui-Gon wanted her to know just how much he did appreciate the help. "No, and don't ask them to," Fiá stopped her chopping and glared at the Jedi Master. "She's a true natural empath, and someone will put her in a circus or something, and I can't have that." Fiá looked up at her friend working on the younger Jedi. "I see that, is she your lover?" Qui-Gon asked. "No," Fiá snickered, "She's…just a friend and that's all." She added more meat and checked on the bead, only half a loaf. "I'll get more bread, Maraté do you need herbs?" "Oh yes, I do, can you write?" She asked Qui-Gon, handing him a viewer tablet. "Yes, I can." He took the tablet and typed the list. She began to add bandages and supplies. "Kind lady, I've already bought some supplies, here in this bag." He handed her the bag and her eyes lit up as if it was a secret gift. A loud knock came from the door. Maraté jumped and stood in the kitchen behind Fiá. "Girl, its Okay." Fiá slowly moved to the door, she looked at the Jedi Master. "You're not wanted are you?" He shook his head no. Fiá opened the door, and a young kid of about Maraté's age stood on the other side. As soon as he saw Fiá, his faced dropped, and a slight fear came over him. "Ah… Fiá, here are two keys, my father said… ah, that you had guests and… I… ah… need to give you the keys." His timid voice rolled in the door. "Fine, Braclyn, you can hand me the keys." She remarked, and waited. He didn't respond. "Now!" She snaps. "Ah… yeah here they are, I need to know who the guests are. I mean, can they sign for the keys?" He asked quickly. Fiá took the tablet from the boy and handed it to Qui-Gon, never moving her eyes from the now trembling boy. After Qui-Gon signed the tablet, she handed it back. "Is that all?" she asked. "Yes," and like a shot he was off. Fiá closed the door and shook her head. She placed the two keys on the counter. "Now, Maraté, the stew needs to be stirred, and make some tea. I'll be back soon. Do not open the door, I have my key." Fiá looked at her roommate's blank face. "Maraté, what are you thinking." "Whether we needed anything more. No! I don't think so, and stir the stew and make some tea." She smiled as if she was happy to know the answer. Fiá smiled and started out the door. "I'll come too, if your buying herbs for Obi-Wan I wish to pay for them." Qui-Gon followed. "No, that's not necessary, I can manage." Fiá liked being alone. "Please I also need a few things, for the boy and myself." Qui-Gon added. "Whatever!" she expressed, "But please keep up, I don't like masses of people and the streets are crowed." Then she left. Qui-Gon followed, 'keep up?' he asked himself as he looked over this petite woman. Half the way down the street he learned what she meant. In and out she darted around everyone, and fast, she walked very fast. Finally she stepped into a store. As he caught the door before it closed, he noticed they had entered a herbalist. The smell of flowers freshly hung for drying, and crushed roots permeated the air. A woman close to his height stood behind the counter, she had long red hair and old wrinkled face. She glared at Fiá. "Now what do you want." She seemed none too happy with this petite woman he came in with. "And a wonderful evening to you," Fiá said with much false enthusiasm. "I need these, give me a half a gram of each." Her tone changed. "Yeah fine, but not the Flondes flower, you have to have papers allowing you to have it." The shopkeeper added. Qui-Gon asked Fiá, "Do we need it?" "Yes, it's for pain and tissue regeneration. We need it." She turned to get a few soaps and jars. "You don't need to see our papers." Qui-Gon told the woman with a wave of his hand. "Well, I guess I don't need to see your papers." She said blankly and filled the order. "Thank you," He added politely and went on about looking for things he may need. "Smooth move. Can you teach me that?" Fiá added, almost at a whisper. "Only if you wish to become a Jedi, and that takes years of training." He smiled, "I was hoping you hadn't noticed." He reached up and grabbed the jar of milky white paste Fiá was reaching for and handed it to her. "Time I have, patience I don't." She smirked and took the jar. "What else?" asked the shopkeeper. "These things, and these." She took the things Qui-Gon had as well. "Has my Father sent you your money?" Fiá asked with a curt voice. "I'll see," she stepped into a back room, returning with a ledger she added, "Well yes he did, and plenty more for credit." Her tone changed, she was almost happy. "Good. Add three white candles and that black one. Put it on the bill." Fiá turned and looked out the window. The streets were quieting down, fewer people and less noise. She heared the Jedi thank the woman and step towards her, opening the door she quickly moved across the street. She felt a hand on her shoulder. She tensed, and turned quickly to see it was the Jedi. "Don't do that! Say something first." She put her hand to her chest, as if scared out of her wits. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." His face was gentle and kind. Her feelings were betraying her; she liked the gentle man. Fiá was beginning to wonder if she shouldn't make them find other lodgings come morning. "No, its okay. Father had all of us take special classes to protect ourselves. I think that's why I don't like crowds. He was paranoid." She added as she was looking around. "Yes, I see." He smiled at her. "Yeah." She returned the smile, then started into a bakery. "Hey, Jared," She called out, and a tall thin man covered in flour stepped from a back room. "Ah, night walker, what are you doing? It's still light out." He remarked with a jovial laugh. "You're too much, and I'll see you before sunrise, promise! But Maraté found some strays, and I need extra bread for the next few days." She nodded at her new friend, who bowed his head and smiled. "Listen night walker, that girl needs to be watched after, she talks to everyone, she doesn't fear anything." The baker added as he put three long loaves of bread into a bag. "Jared, I know oh to well, she was sent to help me, but I spend my time making sure she's on track." Fiá picked up the bag and smiled. "What do I owe you." "Nothing. It would be tomorrows day old bread otherwise." He laughed. "Come again…Stray." "Yes I will." Qui-Gon's deep voice filled the room as he left the shop with Fiá. They walked back quickly and quietly. As Fiá moved into the apartment building she noticed Braclyn moving down the hall from the steps. He almost panicked when he saw Fiá. "Braclyn?" She said partly as a greeting and partly as a question. "Good evening Fiá." He said and moved into his apartment closing the door. "That's was odd." Qui-Gon watched the young man and the fear in his mind was overpowering. "No, I don't think so." Fiá said as she bolted up the stairs. The door was unlocked and ajar. "Maraté," she called out, and saw Maraté sitting on the floor next to Obi-Wan. Who had his lightsaber in one hand. "Obi-Wan, are you two alright." Qui-Gon asked as he moved over to his Padawan, and the young woman. "Fiá, he came in again. I told him no, I really did." Maraté stood up and moved over to Fiá. "Yes, dear I'm sure you did." Fiá reached out and held Maraté, who began to cry. "Oh my Maraté, its going to be fine, did he touch you this time?" she pulled her back a bit to see her face, and wiped the tears. "Oh no, Obi-Wan told him, if he stepped one more step he'd get up and slice him in two, and that he was not welcome here." Her eyes widened and she pointed at Obi-Wan. Then she whispered, "He turned it on, and it glows blue, like my eyes." Then she added in mid thought. "Did you get the herbs?" "Yes, on the counter." Fiá pointed to the kitchen. As the empath moved into the kitchen, Fiá sat on the arm of a side chair. "Sorry about that, Braclyn think she's pray because she's…slow, I think she's playing a game, I've seen her kick butt, and out think the best." "This boy frightens her." Obi-Wan winced with pain as he tried to sit up. "Don't you dare sit up…not yet." Came the voice in the kitchen. "I think she physic too." Fiá laughed. "Ah…I'll be right back, I need to talk to him, again!" She walked out the door, and the door slammed. Qui-Gon had crossed the floor in a moment, but not fast enough to reach the door before it slammed shut. As he stood on the top stairs and looked down, he could hear Fiá speaking in a soft tone. He needed the Force to enhance his hearing. "Listen, if I ever see you looking at Maraté or even hear you think about her, I will… turn you over! I know of your record, and Father is a powerful man. He will have you put far away, not even your mother will see you, ever. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear. This. Time?" She stood half in the door, her voice was clear and her tone was angry. Qui-Gon could only see her back. "Yeah, Okay. But she's only a slave." He heard the voice of the young man as he looked for a defense. "And she's my slave. Do you know what the punishment is for messing with someone's property? I'll tell you, on my planet its death, and my Father well have you extradited. Trust me." She turned and took a step out, "You don't want me back here." She left and started up the stairs. As she past Qui-Gon she added, "Don't go there, not now." And she entered the apartment. Qui-Gon just watched her pass by. Nothing was said about what had happened. Fiá was still fuming, and ready to explode, all she needed was someone to yell at. Maraté had the table set and ready for dinner. As Fiá stormed into the room, she looked at Maraté. "I thought you understood, you can't tell anyone about…" Fiá saw the tear run down her face. "Oh girl, I can't help you if you fight me." In her anger, she had forgotten about the Jedi in the room. She hugged Maraté, "It'll be fine, don't worry." "But… I… I let you down." She rested her head down on Fiá's shoulder. Fiá looked up and saw the Jedi Master standing next to the counter. He had that questioning look on his face, but didn't say anything. "Why don't you help Obi-Wan to the table, Maraté, I think there's something I need to do." Fiá released the embrace. She poured the stew into a serving bowl and set it on the table. Looking up at the Jedi she sighed, "The whole truth, or just the part from down stairs." She asked as she crossed her arms. "This is not my concern." He responded and went to assist moving the Padawan over. "Fine with me." Fiá moved the fourth chair to be used as a foot rest for the young man's fractured ankle. As Obi-Wan sat in the chair, Fiá had retrieved some pillows and propped his foot up. She refused to look at the Master. Qui-Gon had decided to stand and allow the women to sit, but the will of stubborn minds began. Fiá filled her bowl and sat on the deep windowsill. The meal was quiet, until Maraté couldn't stand it any longer. "Is your Master as much a blockhead as mine?" She asked Obi-Wan. "Yes, I'm afraid he can be." The remark received a warning stare from Qui-Gon. "But my Master is a Master of teaching, not of ownership." He added. Fiá needed that little push to send her off. "Ownership, I don't think so. He owns you, he owns every cell in your body, you do for him as he asks, and with no questions." She started. "But I wish to, I'm not made to by slave papers, he didn't buy me, I came to him to learn," Obi-Wan spoke with calm, grace and dignity. "This was my choice, and I stay by choice." "Even a…Slave can stay by choice." Fiá set her bowl on the table with a thump. Then stormed into the back room. "She has a temper," Qui-Gon added. "Yes, she does, but for good reasons." Maraté remarked with her head down. "Please I didn't mean to upset you." Obi-Wan touched her face and lifted it up to meet his blue eyes, when she looked into them she smiled. Fiá came back into the room and handed Qui-Gon a pack of papers. She picked up her sketchpad and returned to the window. "Maraté, Please tell the Jedi. Why are you my slave?" She asked of the strawberry-blonde woman. "Must I?" Maraté felt ashamed. "Three years ago." Fiá began. "I was on Salanien, studying, I was watching a slave auction. I'd never seen one before." "Salanien, I'm not familiar with that planet." Obi-Wan said, hoping for more info. His Master added, "Salanien, is on the outer rim, and not part of the alliance. Therefore Slavery and other things are quite legal." "Legal, oh yeah! But as the hour passed before the auction, nobody looked at Maraté, she had been beaten to a bloody mess, they laughed at her, because they thought an empath could heal themselves." She noticed the tears running down Maraté's face. Fiá walked over to wipe her eyes. "I'll stop, I'm sorry." Fiá spoke softly, Maraté nodded. Then Maraté looked up at Qui-Gon, who met her eyes as he looked up from the papers. "Fiá, she bought me, to save my life, really! The slaver, he was going to cut my throat, right there. He said I wasn't worth a Furg, and it would cost more to feed me then I was worth." She turned and looked at Obi-Wan. "She paid three hundred Tydirean Surg." Qui-Gon was impressed. "That would be almost one thousand Republic credits. Why?" He started when he saw Fiá hold her hand up and shake her head. He understood she didn't want the reasons known to Maraté, or that wasn't what she really paid. "Why, didn't you tell us this earlier." He picked up the papers. "Maraté do you know you're a free woman, and can go anywhere you want to." "Yes, Jedi Qui-Gon, I know this, but Fiá lets me come along, so I can find the planet I want. Father doesn't mind, because I can help her." Maraté's face lifted and her tears dried away. "Help her do what?" Obi-Wan asked, and Fiá's jumped in quickly. "Mostly study, well he thinks. He wants me to be a politician, so he sends me to different worlds to watch and learn, but I want be an artist," She flopped her sketchpad in front of Obi-Wan. "Father tells me that I'm not very good, but I like it. Maraté keeps me on track, makes sure I go to lectures and caucus, and all that political stuff." Fiá started to giggle. "Obi-Wan do you know what the word "Politics" really mean?" She asked not looking at his Master. Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, enlighten me." He smiled. "Well, 'Poly', is many, and 'Ticks,' are blood sucking parasites." She picked up her pad, and moved back to her sill and resumed her sketching. Obi-Wan looked at his Master, and started to giggle. "Master, I'll never look at Politics the same again." "Nor shall I, Padawan." Then they both laughed. As the evening moved on the conversation was mostly the Jedi telling stories, of past adventures and battles they fought. Maraté was enthralled, and Fiá sketched and listened. Soon, it was getting late. Obi-Wan's foot ached all evening, but now the pain began to move up his leg. "Time for you to rest, tomorrow we'll start working on your foot." Maraté said, as she gathered the pillows to move into the room the Jedi were going to occupy. As she went into the bedroom with the pillows, Qui-Gon asked. "How much did you pay?" Fiá glared at him, "Not enough. Less then a hundred Furgs. About thirty-eight Republic credits, and I had a hell of time getting her healed. A lot of people laughed at my efforts, but she's a good friend. She's very intelligent, she's just afraid of the universe. A lot of this is an act, which I can't break her of. She had a hard life before, she was about sixteen and badly abused." Fiá stopped as Maraté returned. "Okay Jedi Padawan. Let's go. Fiá, can you help me?" Maraté asked as she slowly moved the chair and lowered the Padawan's foot. Fiá stood next to the young man, who was a good quarter of a meter taller, but that didn't stop the petite woman. She put her arm around his waist, and leaned him into her. Once in the room she set him on the bed. She turned his care over to his Master and the healer. As Obi-Wan was being helped into bed, Qui-Gon heard the front door close. He stood up and listened. "Fiá, she takes a walk every night, and comes back in an hour or so. She's fine." Maraté handed Obi-Wan a wooden stick with a yellowish-green paste on it. "Here, put this under your tongue. It will help you sleep." Qui-Gon nodded and Obi-Wan did as told, it had a sweet nutty flavor – not at all what he thought it would be. Maraté left so the two men could talk, as she cleaned the front room. "Master, I feel I've known Maraté all my life, but Fiá… She's hard to understand," Obi-Wan yawned. "I feel she's hiding from the universe." "Yes, I feel it too." Qui-Gon looked at the door, "Did you see her work? Every detail, perfect. Why is she studying politics?" The Master looked back at his Padawan, who had fallen sleep. His face was that of the boy he first knew. "Sleep well my Padawan." Qui-Gon turned off the light as he left. Qui-Gon entered the main room and began to help put the mess back into order. "Maraté, why does Fiá study politics? Why not art? It's a noble profession." "It is Fathers law." She stated plainly and continued to clean. "But doesn't he see her talent?" He asked, taking cups and small bowls to the kitchen. Maraté quickly grabbed the small bowls. "These are medicines," she arranged them on the counter. "Father has his way, we do everything his way. He has designed his children to perform a duty as he has commanded." She walked into the center of the room and looked around. Everything was ready for the next day. "In the morning I will begin on your Padawan. Today his pain was too strong. He couldn't relax enough. Tomorrow will you go with Fiá?" she asked. "I don't know, where is she going?" His question gave Maraté the hope she had changed the subject of 'Father'. "To the rallies, three candidates will be talking in the morning and a few more in the afternoon." Fiá walked the streets quickly; she knew where she was going. She walked passed the Royal Canter Inn, and then around to the back. She was dressed in a black bodysuit, long tight gloves and a black vest. She slid into the shadows of the edging bushes. She waited, in moments three guards walked by. She began to count as she quickly climbed the brick wall to the third floor window. Quietly she moved in through the opened window. The room was dark, and she kept close to the walls and hid in the shadows. Still counting, she peered out the window on the far side of the room, again the same three guards passed below. She re-started her count, now knowing how long before the guards would return. A door on the same wall led into a luxurious bedchamber. Large handcrafted wooden furnishings and full flowing drapes adorned the room. There was a nice marble fireplace with small glowing embers. Fiá smiled at the glow, as she continued to count. Surveying the bed, a large round man lay sleeping soundly. As she stood watching the man sleep, she removed a paper pouch from her right leg pocket. From the pouch, she pulled out a white strip of cloth, which she cautiously placed under his nose. Picking up the long handled pipe out of the ashtray on the bedside table, and packed it with his normal smoking herbs. She then lit the foul smelling herbs, and rested the pipe on the bed next his open hand. The embers rolled from the pipe on to the plush bedding. She paused, and watched as a small flame rouse up. Then removing the white strip from under his nose and replacing it back into the pouch, she slid it into her leg pocket. In half the time it took to come in, she left. Going to the window, she waited a few seconds until she saw the guards pass by, then she scurried down the wall and headed away, down a side ally and into a back door of a bar. Where she stepped into the bathroom and started a conversation with two women. "So do you like the band." Fiá asked as she fixed her lip color. The music was so loud they had to yell to be heard. "Yeah! Not bad." The one woman responded. "Hey, you're the girl with Kataly, aren't you?" She asked. "No, not really, we're just friends." Fiá added not knowing who Kataly was, "We just did the one dance." "Cool." The other woman said, "I think she's hot, do you think she'll dance with me?" "Sure, ask her. I gotta go, my friend is waiting for me. Later." Fiá walked though the bar, she didn't notice at first that it was an all-female bar on this night. The last three nights she walked in it was mixed gender and races; tonight it was just for women. As she sat at the bar, twice she was hit on and once accused of hitting on someone's girl friend. After several dances and quaint conversation about the upcoming caucuses, Fiá left through the front door. She leaned against the wall. The voice of a well-manicured woman asked if she had a light for her long thin black cigar. "Sure," Fiá lit her smoke stick. "Aren't those things illegal yet?" "No, not until tomorrow at midnight. Do you want to dance?" She replied. "Na! It's getting late and my girl is at home. I had better go. But here, keep the lighter." Fiá smiled and tossed the lighter at the woman. "Thanks Sweetie." She replied, watching Fiá walk down the street. As she entered the apartment, she noticed the Jedi Master asleep on the couch, her sketchbook on the floor. She pulled a blanket over him. The smell of ashes in the wind drifted in the open window. Qui-Gon's awareness level was heightened as the two-woman spoke softy in the kitchen. He lay quietly as not to disturb them, but also wanted to hear what they were saying in such a heated manner. "I did the best I could. So deal with it." Fiá whispered. "Next time when I say rotate, move with the flex of the muscles." Maraté had her back to Qui-Gon; he questioned what he heard. "But it gives me the creeps to feel the bones pop, and grind." Fiá shivered. "Have you ever heard bones grind, Jedi." Fiá could tell the Jedi Master was awake by the change in his breathing. "Yes, that is a sound I'm familiar with." He replied as he sat up, wondering how she knew he was awake. "Fiá, we spoke too loud. Jedi Jinn, I'm sorry to wake you, but we had to." Maraté walked over and sat on the floor next to him. Fiá leaned on the edge of the counter. The room was still dark; the sun hadn't come up yet. "Had to what?" He questioned the young healer; the answer chilled his soul. "Re-break Obi-Wan's ankle." She replied plainly. Qui-Gon looked at Fiá, and then asked Maraté, "You re-broke his leg…Why?" "Well, the Hospital didn't set it straight," She held her hands up and gestured with her fingers, "See his bones were knitted and angled like this…" Her fingers tips set beside each other. "By re-braking the bones now before any more natural healing occur we can set them right." Qui-Gon sighed and bowed his head, "That's why he couldn't walk, and the pain was still so bad. Damn, I should have known, I should have felt it." "Worry no longer, it's going to be fine, and he slept through it, never knew it happened." Maraté added as she looked at Fiá with a smile. "How? With all that the pain it should have been horrendous, to say the least." Again, the Jedi Master felt for the needs of his ward. "Good herbs." Fiá added, "I had best get going. The bakery opens soon, and Maraté tells me your boy likes sweets. He'll be hungry and deserves a bit of pampering." She headed for the door. "Please, may I come along?" Qui-Gon stood and tugged on his tunic. Fiá sighed, "I guess." With an outstretched hand, Qui-Gon called for his dark brown robe, it sailed through the air and rested in his hand. Maraté was amazed, "Oh I'm sorry, I thought you knew about Jedi, and the Force." "Only what I've heard." She whispered. "Lock the door, I don't think the pest will be up yet. His light was still on when I came in last night." Fiá added as they walked out the door. "Night walker!" Came the voice of the baker. "Morning Jared." Fiá greeted him. "Hey are the ovens on overheat? I could smell the extra burning all the way from my place." "No, but did you hear?" He replied. "Hear what?" The Jedi Master asked. "Candidate Quimp Chally, died last night, his bed caught fire." The baker shook his head. "Damn, I had high hopes for him. He was for the small business man, and against large corporate takeovers." "Wait a sec. How did his bed catch fire? And why didn't he get up?" Fiá asked with concern. "They say he had…Javdee. And was smoking right before bed, he must have fallen asleep." Jared shook his head. "Can't believe that, he's the reason for the ban on Javdee." Fiá had a smirk on her face. "Excuse me, But what is Javdee?" Qui-Gon interrupted. The baker looked surprised, "Javdee is a natural 'relaxant' the herbal healers use it as a sleep aid, and the 'people' smoke it for intoxicating effects. You can't buy it any more." He paused to put fresh bread into a waxed bag. "Oh we need some sweet breads too." Fiá added quickly. "That's why he didn't wake up." The Jedi Master added. On the way back Fiá walked slower, she clutched the bread in her arms. "We're having flat bread for morning meal?" Qui-Gon's soft voice moved with the breeze. "Well yeah, I guess so." She giggled lightly then handed over the still warm bread. "It's still warm and I should have grabbed my cloak." Qui-Gon removed his robe, he had just noticed that Fiá was in a long light green, sleeveless silken dress. As he wrapped it around her, he felt a sigh of relief. Yet she still argued. "I can't take this, you need to stay warm, and we'll be home in a moment." "Hush!" he added with a firm voice. The apartment was warm, and the smell of herbal medicines simmering made the whole building smell wonderful. Qui-Gon placed the breads on the table; Fiá went looking for Maraté. Not in her room, not in with the sleeping Jedi, nor the bathroom. Fiá became worried and was about to go out the door and down to that little bastard Braclyn's apartment when Qui-Gon grabbed her by the arm. He had his eyes closed, "I sense she's fine, she's looking for…a…rock? He looked at Fiá, "Wait here she may need me to help to bring it in. Why a rock?" "I have no clue." Fiá looked confused, as the Jedi left to help. A few minuets passed by, Maraté and Qui-Gon came in she had a hand full of small rocks. "I'll play along, why the rocks and why not wait for us to came back? And why not wait for the sun to come up?" Fiá asked pointing at the window as the sun lazily peeked over the horizon. "I got scared, what if Braclyn came in, and I was healing Obi-Wan…and," Maraté began to feel she had done something dreadfully wrong, her eyes opened wide. "Fiá," She swallowed. "I'm scared, I want this to be over now, I want to go way from here." By this time she was in tears. Qui-Gon could feel her fear. Not of what Fiá would do, but fear of past beatings and unwanted attacks. 'How was this girl ever going to be a Freed Slave?' He thought. "Be mindful." His deep voice and gentle touch on her shoulder helped to calm her. "As long as Obi-Wan or I are here, no one will harm you." She saw compassion in his eyes. "Maraté, everything will be fine, I'm not going to the rallies, I'm going to stay here today." Fiá also felt her fears, stronger then before. 'Was it the Jedi that made her feel so afraid?' "No, you must go, you can't be here if… Father calls, and he does every few days." Her face was very worried, "He can't see the Jedi," she added. "Ah…Sir Jinn, would you go and check on Obi-Wan? I think I hear him waking." Fiá asked of the Master Jedi. Who understood that Fiá needed time with Maraté. "Now look," She whispered after she hear the bedroom door close, "Father won't care, he knows we need alibis, and what better then Jedi," Fiá smiled, "Maraté, I promised that this is my last assignment, we'll leave all this. I will have lots of money, and I have the skills to get a good job. Plus I'll get you into a real medical school, where you can help." She wiped the falling tears from her friend's face. "Fiá what if they find out about you… What you are?" Maraté was still afraid. "They won't, I was designed with some telepathic ability, I can block them. They won't know that I'm a trained assassin." She smiled a compassionate smile. "No!" Maraté frowned. "Not that, what if they find out you're… an AP, an artificial person." Fiá's eyes looked at her painfully. "It doesn't matter, if they find out, I'll make sure your okay. I promise." She looked at the Jedi's door. "Go help the Jedi boy, he's awake and needs you." At that point, a knock came at the door. In fear, Maraté flew down the small hall and into the room. Fiá opened the door, A tall man dressed in black handed her a package and left. Not a word was said. Fiá knew it was a package from Father. Two disks and more money in the pack, she went to her room and hid it. This was not the time to look at the pack, she knew there was no immediate need to view the disks since the courier would have given her a sign if there was. She stood staring out the window, asking 'what if the Jedi found out?' As for being an assassin, they would have to prove she did any of it, but an AP, an illegal being. Someone who is not a living soul, not born but made. APs had been outlawed for over eighty years for this very reason. She was designed to be an assassin, then trained and modified. Then, when she's no longer needed, she'll be disposed of like the weekly trash. 'But I must free Maraté, get her settled in first. Then I won't need to care… Yes, the Jedi; they'll get her help. He said the Council will compensate me, and that's what I'll ask for, to train her as a real medic, they'll see her true abilities.' Fiá heard the rustle of breakfast, she knew she would say something to the Jedi Master, make him promise, Jedi keep their promises. The midmorning sun warmed the day, making it perfect for the outside rallies. Fiá walked down the street. Even with the crowds she seemed more comfortable today. Qui-Gon observed the crowds; he didn't like the fact that he was the center of attention. The presence of the Jedi made people question the validity of the rally. As they approached the gate, Fiá produced a pass. "Myself and one guest." She informed the gate guards as she handed over her large bright red and yellow canvas bag. The guard removed the contents: one large drawing pad, tin box of pencils, paper tissues, and her wallet. He scanned her for weapons. "She's clean, Sir." The guard motioned to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon handed him a card; the guard studied the card and handed it back to the tall Jedi. "Thank you Sir Jinn, enjoy the rallies." He passed the Master Jedi through never scanning him, not so much as a simple pat down. Fiá knew he had his lightsaber with him. "I want one of those cards, it appears to be much better than mine." She stated as she moved through the loitering people on her way to find two seats together. "It takes years of training to get one." He returned with a smile. "I still have the time, but no patience." She smiled as she sat down. "Thought you would do one of those mind jobs, like you did on the herbalist. Now, that I would like to know how you do, but I know it's a Jedi thing." She pulled out her pad and three pencils. Stuffed in her pad she a copy of the day's agenda. "Here, this may give you an idea of what's what." A short fat man sat down next to Fiá, "Well hi sweet little Ghost, I was hoping you were coming today." His accent and skin coloring of a pale blue white indicated he was from the northern plans of eastern mountain states. "Oh Cannasiem, I didn't see you. I thought you weren't talking to me?" She asked in a plain flat voice. The Jedi Master saw there was no desire for the man's presence, so he waited and watched. "I thought about what you said on the slavery issue and the laws of the republic. I think you're right. Okay, you are right. I looked it up. Then I called my people, they agree that Marktus is wrong, and if he gets in, he won't take us to Coruscant. We'll still be an outer rim world." He lowered his head and shook it. "So I've been ordered to vote No. You're so smart. Ah… you want to get some lunch." He smiled at her. "No I'm with a friend today and we need to listen, but thanks. Maybe later in the week." Fiá remarked and gave a slight tilt of her head to the Jedi Master. Cannasiem leaned into her and whispered. "Hey Ghost he's a Jedi." "Yes, I am. Thank you for pointing that out." Qui-Gon smiled at the short man. "Ah… right… Look I've got to go, bye." Cannasiem stood and left quickly. "Thanks, he's been bothering me all week, I don't think he's done any research on his own." She began to flip pages in her book. "He called you Ghost, Why is that?" Qui-Gon asked as he continued to read the agenda. "Fiá, means Ghost in Tashareim, the rim world Father lives on." She replied as she paused at a page and looked at a drawing she had done of the Jedi Master late last night while he was sleeping. "When did you do that?" He pulled the sketchpad from her hands. "I didn't hear you come in, nor draw this." "My first name meant Rain, but I move like a Ghost, quiet and quick. So Father changed it to Fiá" she move from the seat she was in and around him to the empty seat on the other side, as he looked at the drawing. "Why doesn't your Father see your talent?" He turned to look at her, but she wasn't there. She blew on his neck; he smiled and turned to look at her. "Ghost, it fits, even as well trained as I am, I didn't hear nor feel you move. I see this could work for you. Have you ever been tested for Medi-Cloreins?" "No…Father doesn't believe in that stuff." She took the pad and flipped over the page, this was one of Obi-Wan sleeping. "Sir. Jinn I have thought about having the Council compensate me for your room and board, but not in money." She looked around. "Yes, what can we do for you?" His whisper calmed her tensions. "Maraté: I want you to take her to Coruscant and get her into some kind of medical something or other." Fiá handed the Master the pad. "If you can't, I'll understand, but if you say yes, I'll know you are bonded by your word, so think about it. I'll be right back I need the…Oh, you know." She grabbed the canvas bag and walked away. As he watched the petite woman make her way though the crowd he could feel her need to change, to 'get out', But out of what? He watched her exit through the gate and head for the port-a-potties, but the lines where outrageous, she looked around and then headed for the near by hotel where he lost sight of her. The guards at the hotel were only letting in guests and their friends. "Damn" she muttered. She moved to the main street side of the grand old hotel. There where shops and cafés as part of this hotel. She noticed a leather shop, "Oh yes," she whispered. She strolled in and looked around, a young woman asked to help her. "Please I need these black boots and this vest." She handed the women the items. As she looked around, not at the merchandise but at the layout to find a back door, which she found. She saw a pair of tall brown boots with three silver latch buckles. The size is just right. "I want these too, plus this dark brown pouch." The bill came to over six hundred Republic Credits. "Deliver them to this address. Oh I better meet my friend, do you have a door to the hotel?" She pointed to the back. The woman showed her the back way out and thanked her for the large purchase. Fiá smiled and thought 'Yeah right! Whatever.' As she moved through the lobby her attention was pulled away to a loud group of protesters. They yelled and screamed about their political rights being taken away if Candidate Toullasan is elected. The unruly group was ushered out onto the sidewalk. 'How convenient,' she watched and waited as she moved into a chair by the window, and listened to the chants and slogans of the protesters. After Fiá and Qui-Gon left, Maraté began the painstaking job of healing Obi-Wan's foot. This morning it was swollen but less painful. "First we need a cold pack," Maraté started as she applied wrapped bags of ice. She began to strain the herbal broth she had been boiling. "Now that this has cooled we'll soak your foot, you'll feel a tingling sensation, but that is what we want." She set a large tub on the floor. "This won't do, we'll need to remove your pants. Besides these are in need of repair and cleaning." She reached in next to his body, and began to unfasten his ties. Obi-Wan smelled the sweet scent of flowers in her hair, as her long braid fell across her shoulder. "I can do this part, trust me." His big blue eyes met hers and she blushed. He took over removing his damaged pants. "Oh Yes, I'm sure you can, I sometimes forget myself." Backing off she went into the bathroom and gathered some large bath towels. "Here, place this over yourself." She was still blushing. While they waited the few minuets for the broth to cool, and the swelling to go down she washed his pants in the sink, she asked questions about the Jedi Temple and their medical facilities. Obi-Wan realized just what Fiá meant by her weak shyness being an act. Maraté's questions were intelligent and well thought out. Once the broth cooled, but wasn't cold, she gently submerged his foot in the warm water. The sharp tingling made Obi-Wan wince, but soon the warmth and numbing calmed down the sensation. As she was kneeling next to him, she rested her hand on his other leg. "Just what I thought, you're cold," She wrapped another large towel around his legs, and one on the free foot. She checked his face and slid her hand down his tunic to feel his heart beat, his chest was cool, but to Obi-Wan her hand was warm, and soft. "Let me fix us some hot tea." She turned once again she felt a blush come across her face. "We have Rights, We can own slaves, slavery is our tradition!" Fiá listened and rolled her eyes. The guards had been doubled up and all her plans had been yanked out from under her. 'Damn, This one's aborted.' She thought and smiled to herself. She strolled out the front door, and headed back to the rallies. The first speaker was already on the stage. Qui-Gon was listening to every word with great interest. "Now this guy's a fool, why stay in the dark ages." She commented as she slid in next to him. "He wishes to keep slavery and allow the use of drugs and drug selling to off worlders." He found everything this man was saying to be against his beliefs in the Living Force. "Not only that, but he has the backing of major off-worlders," She pointed off to the side where three Hutt's rested on their hover platforms, and then she pointed behind them to where a small group of very tall, light lavender skinned men sat. As Qui-Gon glanced behind them he whispered, "Bolvian Slave traders, damn, this is not good." "And it gets better, over there behind the podium The Trade Federation." She added. "Yes they I saw, and I was aware of the Hutt's, I don't like the Bolvian's." He increased his awareness of his surroundings. "Now look, over to the left, the delegate from the middle region, Gorndas, He's been suffering, from what the media said to be allergies, I disagree. I think its stress, watch him shake." She hinted the direction with her pencil, then continued drawing of the candidate on the platform, she was adding the Hutt's to his background. Qui-Gon felt the need to watch the ill delegate as he listened, Gorndas was shaking and perspiring, the day wasn't that warm. The man tilted his head down and began to sway; shortly he fell to the ground and continued to shake. Qui-Gon stood and was ready to assist. "What can you do, are you a healer." Fiá's voice pulled him back to his senses. "No, I'm not." He watched as the medics took him away. "I feel a disturbance in the Force, He was having a cerebral accident, a stroke." Qui-Gon looked around, 'the Bolvian's are known to be natural telepaths, but why?' He thought, then as he looked at Fiá, Her face was cold and uncaring. She turned to him, "Death is an important mechanism, but who has the right to make that determination?" Her tone was quiet and haunting, and tear fell from one eye. Then she turned and looked at the podium, "That has upset me, I'm not staying." She stood to leave. He touched her hand. "I would like to go now myself. May I join you?" "Do as you wish." She pulled away and walked though the crowded field. He was right behind her. On the far side of the large grassy park the assembly was in, there was a river with a walkway. Fiá headed for that. Her thoughts were questioning if he had realized it was her causing the stroke to Delegate Gorndas, Her telepathic design included the ability to move small objects, like the walls of the Aorta artery right before the split at the neck. The blood flow build up would cause a rush to the brain, and massive pressure to burst the smaller capillaries. A 'stroke', just as the Jedi Master said. Qui-Gon had a rough time keeping up with her. She moved quickly as if she was in a rush. He watched her grab tight to the rails. The water moved rapidly down its path, the light spray cooled the air. Qui-Gon rested his hand on her bare shoulder, "There's more to this, isn't there?" His wise voice almost crushed her will; she felt the truth rush for her tongue. "I think about how Maraté was treated, and how the swelling on her face with the deep black and blue marks, I can't deal with it. Can you help her?" Her pleas where heard. "Yes, I know a few Master Healers who would jump at the chance to help her, and if she can heal Obi-Wan as you claim, she will be treated with great respect." His smile filled her heart. "But what about you, what will you do?" He paused a brief moment. "If you don't have Maraté to keep you on track." She looked up at the tall bearded man. "I'm leaving politics…" She turned to look out over the river. "And Father." She whispered to herself. "Will he allow that?" He asked as he walked around to her other side. "No, but I'm tiered of doing his work, he can do it from now on." She turned to walk away. He reached out and turned her to look at him. "Soon the fire inside must die, I see life in you, and plenty of compassion. I hope I can help, let me help you." He saw great fear well up in her face; he hit a nerve, a tender nerve. "No! No. Father would have your…I…I have to…" she saw all her composure jump into the rushing river, and she wished her body would go with it. The Jedi was more powerful then she thought. "Hush calm your mind, relax." His hands gently rubbed her bare skin. She felt the tingle of calm energy ripple throughout her body. Fiá took a deep breath and lowered her head. "Later, once I know Maraté is safe and taken care of, I'll tell you of the hold Father has, just not now." The lump in her throat fought the calming Force. He embraced her, the warmth of his arms made her daydream of a life with real people, ones she could hold in return. Soaking in a warm and soothing bath, Obi-Wan felt much better, even with Maraté hovering and moving around him like a nursemaid. "Now your clothing is clean and so are you." She reached in the water and ran her hands slowly up his injured leg. Her touch was tingling and he could feel the flow of energy. Her face was lowered and her eyes closed. Even as her long red-blonde braid flopped in the water she never flinched, nor cared, her attention was on him, only him. He could feel the pull as her hands moved down his leg. He laid back and closed his eyes. Then warmth filled his tender ankle, the pain softly vanished, and strength poured into his foot. She touched every wound, every stitch. Then with strong hands she massaged movement back into his ankle and foot. He woke on the couch, dried and wrapped in towels and blankets. Maraté lay on the floor next to him, her gentle snores were reassuring, and he placed a blanked over her. Then fell back to sleep. Fiá stopped and listened at the apartment door. She could hear gentle snoring. "They're both asleep." She smiled up at Qui-Gon, who nodded agreement. Slowly Fiá opened the door. Obi-Wan's naked body was trapped within the towels, and his hand rested on Maraté's back. Qui-Gon smiled and began lifting his young apprentice. "No, Master, I'm fine. Please sit me back down." Obi-Wan didn't like being treated like a child, even with injuries. "Fine." The deep but gentle voice of his Master responded. "Fiá," The groggy voice from the floor spoke. "There on the table…" Maraté sat up and pointed towards the kitchen, "that came for you." Maraté stretched. Fiá saw it was the boxes from the leather shop. "Good, but how's your patient." "He's doing better." She knelt by Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon was looking at the injured foot. The lines of broken tissue were healed, now merely pink lines where the skin met. "I think I can cut the stitches now," She ran her finger over each line. "No way!" Obi-Wan protested as he sat up. "It's been only…thirty-six hours, the Healer said…Oh my," He noticed the soft white flesh with the pink lines and black cross stitches. "Master, I don't get it, this morning…My foot." "A true empath," Qui-Gon looked at Fiá. "I will do as promised. Maraté will come to Coruscant." "Coruscant! Fiá, what does this mean." The empath looked her friend. Fiá took a deep breath, "I told you I would get you into some kind of medical program, Master Jinn knows Master Healers who will work with you." She smiled. "A real hospital, with real people," She stood up with excitement, and then threw her arms around Fiá. "Thank you I knew we get out of this." Then she reached around and hugged the tall Jedi Master, "I knew that you and Obi-Wan were good luck, I saw it." "I need to get out of this dress." Fiá mentioned as her walked to her room. There were times Maraté could get too emotional for Fiá, her training didn't allow for feelings. Maraté often said Fiá was cold and uncaring. Fiá heard the giggling come from the main room. After changing into her black body suit and vest she sat on the bed, she viewed the disk. "No, no way!" She whispered, then counted the money. Eighteen thousand Republic Credits. To pay off bills and get what she needed for the additional job. She tossed the viewer on the bed, with the envelope of cash. 'One job at a time.' She thought and moved out into the other room. Obi-Wan was sitting on the couch moving the rocks with the toes of his injured foot, He was amazed by the healing his foot had received. "Where's Master Jinn?" Fiá inquired. "Bathing, and he likes to be called Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan said as he picked up the rocks with his toes. "Good, I found some boots that should fit you. Here," She handed him the larger box. "I have a good eye for size, I hope they fit, and here's a pouch for your Master, it's a bit larger then the one he has. Give this box to Maraté, Tell her I'm keeping my promise. Where is she?" She looked around the room. "In my room, she wanted to straighten things up." He pulled out one of the tall brown boots, "Fiá these are great, but why, you have no need to give us gifts." He added as he watched Fiá head for the door. "Yeah, well… ah… I'll be back, if the boots don't fit I'll change them in the morning." She was out the door in a flash. Fiá walked down the side street, 'I won't do another one, this is my last one,' Fiá was arguing with herself. She stopped and sighed, then leaned on a light post. 'Damn I left the viewer on the bed, Maraté knows what I do, she'll be good with it, and the money, she'll put them away.' Her thoughts had become scattered, she thought about the gentle embrace Master Qui-Gon gave her. She wondered if that was the way of most 'Live Births', or just Jedi. She came to the river and leaned up against the railing. The picketer's numbers had doubled, as did the guard's, and local police. 'Now this is what I need, a hot group and cocky authorities.' She waited and watched, as her mind wandered she pulled it back on track. Soon Candidate Toullasan stepped from his hotel, the picketers went wild, chanting and screaming obscenities. Fiá moved into the crowd of hate, as they began to move in closer, she reached into her vest and pulled out a long thin knife, her gloved hand hiding the black and slender beauty. She moved to an opening and with a raised hand, while screaming chants with the crowd, she made the blade flow from her hand and slide through the pale flesh of the hated man. The political candidate stopped, dazed, and looked down at the black hilt of the blade protruding from his chest. Without forethought he reached up and pulled at the knife, a click was heard as the blade opened into three blades slashing at his flesh, bursting his heart open. Two men grabbed Toullasan and immediately carried him into the hotel; a shot from a blaster came from the crowd. People ran and the crowd scattered. The protesters and the authorities were exchanging blaster fire. Fiá ran for the river. As she dove over the railing a burning sensation ripped at her shoulder. The cold water gave her temporary relief. She noticed others diving into cold water around her. "Obi-Wan, how long did Fiá say she would be out?" Qui-Gon asked as he looked out the window. "She didn't say… Master." Obi-Wan twitched as Maraté rubbed his foot and rotated it at the ankle. "Let me get some more Canasan bud oil, Fiá has some in her box." Maraté didn't like that Obi-Wan was still in pain. As she walked in the room she saw the viewer on the bed, "Damn girl, what if they found this?" she whispered as she picked it up to hide it. The viewer was still on. "Oh my, No!' she yelled out. Qui-Gon rushed into the room to find Maraté sitting on the bed holding the small video tablet. "She can't do it, I know she won't, but you must leave. Now!" Obi-Wan hobbled in and leaned on the door jam. "Master?" He questioned. Qui-Gon took the viewer and looked at the still image on the screen. "What does this mean?" He asked, and then began to scroll down the pages. "Why? Who are you two?" Maraté looked up at him. Fear paled her face, she knew it was time to stop all the nightmares. "Fiá, she's…" when she saw the look on Obi-Wan's face as he read the pages, frightened her even more. "She's…She's…Fiá, is…an a assassin. She was sent here not to study, but to change the platform…or something like that. It's Father, he makes her do it." Maraté cried out a plea. "Please, she wouldn't hurt you, I know her. She won't kill anyone she knows. Oh please leave." "Master, why would someone want you dead, and why hire an assassin." Obi-Wan was confused by the strange request on the viewer. "This tells her to hunt you down in three days when we arrive." Qui-Gon looked around, two black boxes, one with a few small weapons, the other had chemicals, herbs, and poisons. "Obi-Wan, I don't know, but we're not leaving, not yet." Qui-Gon left the room; he turned on the larger view screen hanging from the wall. The news reported the death of Candidate Toullasan, and the massive stroke of Delegate Gorndas, and that he would survive. "In all five contenders have died over the past six weeks, now authorities are questioning some of the deaths as possible murders." The broadcaster reported. "She didn't do them all, but I'm not sure who she did do." Maraté was trembling. Obi-Wan pulled her down to sit next to him. Qui-Gon stood staring at the screen, rubbing his beard and thinking. "The Anti-Emancipation League is taking responsibility for this afternoon's fatal stabbing of Candidate Toullasan." The broadcast continued, as footage was shown of the now rioting crowd of people. Qui-Gon looked intently at the screen in hopes of seeing Fiá, To his relief she was not in the filmed crowd. Maraté was still trembling, her eyes filled with tears. "She said she would give me this black vest when she stopped taking the jobs, and when she didn't care about Father!" Maraté wiped the tears before they could fall. "Please believe me, she wouldn't hurt anyone. This is the way she was designed…" Qui-Gon turned to face the two young adults, "Many times you've said 'designed', do you mean she's an AP?" Maraté nodded. "Master, AP's are illegal, have been for over eighty years." Obi-Wan interjected. "Yes, Padawan, but that would explain much." Qui-Gon sat in the side chair; he was still working on solving this puzzle. "Death is an important mechanism, but who has the right to make that determination?" Qui-Gon asked his Padawan. "Father!" Maraté answered. "That is what he tells her every time he sends us out. He says; she is the mechanism for death, and he make the determination on who dies." She looked up at Obi-Wan, "You don't argue with Father. He will 'Put you out with the morning trash', slaves and AP's alike. He doesn't know I'm free, she won't tell him. That's why she asked you to take me to Coruscant." "To hide you from Father?" Obi-Wan asked. "Yes, he knows I know some natural medicine and that's all, if he knew what I was, he'd make me work on enhancing the AP fetuses. He's always looking for better ways to create his children." She spoke in a low tone, "He'll kill Fiá, and won't care. When he finds out she's stopped doing his killing." Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon in hopes of an answer. "Be patient, and wait, when she returns we'll find the answer." The tall Master Jedi moved back to the window and waited for her return. Fiá swam down stream; she came to a drainage pipe large enough for her to crawl into. She rested, and waited for nightfall. She woke to the rise of the water in the tube. As she looked out the opening she saw the rain coming down. Before she could think of her next move it was made for her, with a thrust she was pushed from the opening and out into the river. Splash, the water was colder then before. Her shoulder was stiff and painful. This made the swim difficult. As she drifted down stream she came upon a workmen's ladder, slowly she climbed out of the freezing water, the rain made the cold metal bars slick. The streets were quiet, but not deserted. She wandered awhile until she came upon the bakery, but it was closed. She rested against the door, and under the small overhang that kept the icy rain from hitting her face. The pain rushed down her arm to her fingers, she cringed with the pain, and unable to move her hand to find relief. Fiá continued to move down the road. She could see her apartment window, the lights were on, and part of a figure stood in the light. 'Maraté?' she hoped. The figure stepped back. Moving up the stairs, she began to shiver and shake. "Hold on fool." She whispered to herself. A thump at the door startled Maraté into dropping a plate on the floor. She looked at Qui-Gon who stood and walked to the door, he reached out with the Force. Then quickly opened the door and caught Fiá as she fell inwards. "Maraté, draw a hot bath, she's freezing and wet." Maraté promptly moved into the bathroom and stared the water. Qui-Gon rested Fiá on the table. "Master!" Obi-Wan reached over and touched her cold hand; it was wet with rain and blood. Obi-Wan started to remove her boots and wet socks. Maraté returned with dry towels and a bath blanket. "Here," Maraté reached into Fiá's wet vest and handed Qui-Gon a black knife, "It's sharp, and she won't need her body suit any more." She paused and gazed into Fiá's pale-white face. "Please Fiá no more." She whispered her plea. Qui-Gon began cutting the wet heavy fabric free from her limp, hypothermic body. "No…he'll find…" a breathy voice squeaked trying to speak, but she fell back into unconsciousness. As he remove the cloth from the blaster wound on her shoulder, he could feel the oozing blood and seared flesh "She's worse then I thought, Maraté, what do we do?" Qui-Gon's Jedi training gave him many options, but her natural abilities would give Fiá a better chance of keeping her arm. The flesh was ripped and burned from her upper shoulder blade to the top of her shoulder, he could see fragments of bone and the yellowish strands of tendons. "First, we get her warmed up, and as you hold her I will attend to her wounds," Maraté looked at the Master Jedi, and for the first time her inflections became strong and sure. "You must get into the water with her, undress. Obi-Wan can you continue to remove her clothing." Maraté went into the bathroom and turned off the running water. She began to gather the remaining bandages and dressings. She also gathered the natural medicines and herbs. She brought out Fiá's black chemistry box, from with in she removed painkillers and sedatives. "I know her, she's a pain in the ass when she injured." Qui-Gon was undressed to his underclothes and Fiá to hers. He lifted her from her uninjured side and carried her to the hot water. Slowly he submerged them both. Laying her cold icy breasts against his chest he took a hot wet towel and draped it over her. The water began to turn red with the flakes of dissolving dried and dribbling blood, He could feel her breathing begin to deepen and fill her lungs. "She's responding to the warmth." He said speaking very softly. "That's good, but she'll fight you, and most likely win," Maraté pulled back a small corner of the hot towel to look at the wound. "Damn, I hate this smell." The steam mixed with the brunt flesh became thick in the air. Obi-Wan sat on a stool next to Maraté, and handed her the things she needed. With out warning, Fiá lurched up and screamed out in pain. She began to fight Qui-Gon, like a wild cat caught in a trap. Her eyes were glazed and distant, the muscles in her face were sharp and tight. Before Qui-Gon could make her sleep with the use of the Force she scratched him across the neck at the collarbone. "Sleep" His gentle voice touched her mind, and in a moment, her body fell limp against him. "Master you're bleeding." Obi-Wan handed him a dry cloth. Maraté pulled the cloth from his hand and applied a smelly bluish-green salve to the scratches. "I'm impressed you won. I believe its part of the survival needs, an AP's DNA is messed with so much." Maraté spoke as she worked on the gapping wound, "But they miss the important parts, her soul, her need not to be an animal, not that the training she receives helps her over come that part." "What do you mean? How can her training interfere with her soul?" Obi-Wan asked. "As I watched the younger APs, I noticed they are not allowed physical contact." Maraté pointed to Qui-Gon, holding her. "They're told over and over, they have no soul, and therefore can not be held for their actions. Fiá was never given a caring embrace or a reassuring touch. It took months for me to be able to just touch her hand." "But she seems to care, or at least she seems to want to care." Obi-Wan had to look away as Maraté pulled dead burnt flesh from the hole. "We would often talk for hours about the people she…terminated." Maraté face cringed as she realized the full depths of the wound. She looked up at the Master Jedi. "She may never have full use of this arm, Father will feel she is no longer useful and will have her…recycled." Maraté began to pack the wound with salves and ointments, then dress it with the reminding dressings. "How long will she sleep?" "Not much longer, once she show signs of waking I'll need to re-induce the "need to sleep," you might want to use the painkillers." Qui-Gon hinted. "I can't, the painkillers are for us, her design doesn't allow painkillers to work, she has to hold her own." Maraté sighed. "We should move her to the bed. There we might be able to keep her calm. Obi-Wan if you feel you can. Go into her room and remove all weapons, put them in your room." Wrapped in a bath blanked Fiá lay on the bed, as Qui-Gon dried and re-dressed. Again Fiá woke with a start, but was confined by the blanket. It took a few minuets for her to focus on her surroundings. "Maraté," She called out, before seeing the young freed slave. "Go! Go tonight. No one will question you as long as you're with them. I can't protect you any more, and Father will send for me soon." She stared at the tall bearded man, not sure what to say. "I'm an AP, and an assassin. You're to be my next job." "Fiá, you're free. The Jedi Council will not allow Father to force you any more." Qui-Gon's voice and eyes attempted to calm her. "Your Council has no jurisdiction on Tashareim, but he has great extradition powers." Fiá's closed her eyes; the pain filled her body. "Just go… and beware, once he has a contract out… he's gets the job done. Father will send someone in day or so for me…" "Oh yeah right! They'll not take her back to him, they'll kill her, I remember, twice he sent her to kill one of her own kind." Maraté was outraged; she backed away from the bed, backing into Obi-Wan who embraced her. "So what! Maraté I'm just an AP, property, a breathing designed machine." Her voice was weak. Maraté was appalled by the idea Fiá would give up to Father after all they had talked about. "Come we'll sit in the main room, let Fiá sleep, in the morning we'll have a plan." Obi-Wan's gentle words calmed Maraté, he pulled her way from Fiá's bed side, "Master Qui-Gon will stay with her." Obi-Wan sat next to Maratá on the long couch. "Father has always called her a wild card, she never follows orders, so many times he has threatened to recycle her." "What does it mean to 'recycle her'?" He asked as she leaned against him. "DNA is taken for new generations, frozen. The rest of her body will be ground for use in the gardens." She pulled his arm around her. She liked his touch. "I hope you don't mind, I had a lot of human contact before, and none since Fiá bought me." She snuggled in closer. "I'm a Jedi, not a priest." He squirmed a bit, but welcomed her touch. He brushed the fallen strands of hair from her face. "Who is Father?" he whispered. "I don't know, everyone just calls him that, I've seen him many times, but I have to sit in the corner on the floor. He said slaves are lower then APs." She turned and caressed his chest at the "V" of his tunic. Obi-Wan swallowed, "Why?" he squeaked out. "APs are trained and designed for a reason, slaves are bad luck at birth, and are just tolerated." Her hands began to roam as she pulled closer to him. Gently he lifted her chin to meet her lips with his. Qui-Gon felt the bed shake, he hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep, and worse, next to the assassin sent to kill him. Still, he trusted in the Force. "Pssst! Hey! Master Jedi." He heard Fiá calling out, "Stay down…out the window, on the ground, two maybe three." Qui-Gon rolled off the bed and peeked out the window, "Yes, I see…and feel three, Father's?" He looked down on the floor under the window to where Fiá's voice was coming from. She was looking up at him, "There here for me, they believe you'll be here the day after tomorrow, so hide in Obi-Wan's room with Maraté. You'll know when to come out, then just leave." She peeked out the window; the three figures stood their ground. "Under the top drawer is a pack with money cards in Maraté's name with all the codes and papers, I have to trust you," She looked at the tall shadowed man standing over her, "You promised, and I promise I'll not hunt you down, nor anyone else, ever again." She crawled away from the window, her naked body lay on the floor as she reached under the bed and rolled onto her back. The moonlight from the window highlighted her figure. The sound of tape pulling from the underside broke the silence. She returned with a blaster, "I'm an AP, not a fool." She smiled. "Oh, that I can see." Qui-Gon glanced out the window. "Why aren't they moving." He asked. "Time, most AP's are programmed to rest at a certain time. Stupid if you ask me, I reprogrammed myself." She paused as she pulled on a dark gray jumpsuit; she couldn't get her injured arm to function. "Damn it, this…Oh!" she sighed. "Oh, forget it." She zipped the damaged arm into the inside; this made the suit tighter, but held the arm firm. "Now, leave, they'll be coming in a few moments." She leaned on the wall next to the window. // Obi-Wan, get up. Hide Maraté, we have unwanted guests. // He called out to his Padawan. // Yes, Master. // Obi-Wan responded. "Maraté, wake up, there coming for Fiá," She sat straight up. "We have nothing to worry about, they only want her." She slid her hand down his Padawan braid and across his bare chest. "Master and I won't let them have her, so hide and wait for me." He kissed her as he slid off the bed. Quickly he pulled on his leggings and under shirt, grabbed his saber and cautiously exited the room. // Master…plan? // He asked as he moved in the dark. //Stand on the far side of the door, I'll take up this point by her room. // The silent words were sent. Steps echoed in the hall outside the door. A jiggle of the lock and then it swung open, almost hitting Obi-Wan. With a raise of his fingers Obi-Wan slowed the door, by blocking it with the Force. Three black dressed men entered the apartment. "You, there," the leader pointed and one man moved towards were Maraté was hiding. "You, back there." He sent that man right for Qui-Gon. As all three men entered and cleared the door. Qui-Gon slowly and quietly closed the door, at the last second he slammed it. With the sudden sound two lightsabers ignited: One green and one blue. "Shagen Jedi!" Cursed one man. "Jedi, we want only Fiá, keep the slave." The leaders raspy voice spoke. "I'm afraid we can't do that." Replied Qui-Gon. "She the property of Tashare enterprises. You have no rights to her." The leader step forwarded to see the face glowing in the green light. Qui-Gon held out the glowing blade, and with a wave of his hand he said. "Fiá isn't here." "Don't try the Jedi Bantha shit on me Jedi." He raised his blaster and fired. The ball of glowing yellow light raced through the air and was met by the green blade, with sparks flying and the deflection of the ball the battle began. As the two other men shot at him, Obi-Wan deflected two more glowing balls of energy. A few more blaster shots and their reflections passed by in the dark. "Just leave, you're no match for us." Obi-Wan spoke out, "this match is minor, and wasting everyone's time." Obi-Wan knew he could end this, but shedding blood uselessly was not the Jedi way. Then with a sudden flash of light and the whine of a fourth blaster, a ball of blue light came from behind Qui-Gon, the leader was hit square in the chest and fell backwards. The smell of burnt flesh was accompanied by the sound of sizzling. "Fiá, No!" called out Qui-Gon. "No more killing." "We can't let them go, it's what they do, they're cleaners." She aimed and fired at the one moving in towards Maraté hiding place. He dropped to the floor missing the blot of blue light. The third man rushed Obi-Wan, and with two moves of his saber the man fell into three pieces on the carpet. A ball of yellow light rushed for Fiá and was parried by the green glow of light. Obi-Wan pulled the man from his hiding space, with the Force. The lights came on, and the man dangled in mid-air. Fiá stepped up to him and pulled a black mask from his head. "A defect." She said as she looked at him. Qui-Gon looked at the face of this cleaner, what little face he had. Two eyes, malformed and off color, two holes for a nose and no mouth, but a tube surgically planted for eating. "Let him down, please." Qui-Gon broke Obi-Wan's bond on the man, and lowered him to the floor. The mute man rested on his hands and knees, looking at the floor. "What are cleaners?" Qui-Gon asks. "Just that, they clean up after my Shagen messes, or me in this case." Fiá stepped over to the malformed AP. "What do you want?" She asked him. He looked up at her and blinked his eyes, then lunged at her throat. Qui-Gon's lightsaber divided him in two as Fiá fell back onto the floor, with his lifeless hands wrapped around her throat. "Bad move girl." Came the voice of Maraté. "Really dumb." "Whatever!" Fiá push the half carcass off her. "Obi-Wan, in the hall there should be some cases. They'll be heavy." She stood up slowly as the pain rushed down her back. "Help me Maraté" she added as she drug the body parts to the bathroom. "Fiá, why did you go to him?" Qui-Gon asked as he brought one of the cases in. "Defects hate to live, if he wanted out, I would have put him to sleep, forever, but painlessly." She pulled on another body part. "I've done many that way, Father thought they died in their sleep, but they would ask me to help them." "Mercy killing?" Asked Obi-Wan. "Sometimes…" Fiá sat on the stool by the tub were the body parts were being put. "We need the cases in here… think of a life where you're treated as less then a micro-organism, but made to do all the horrible jobs, and given only the bare minimum. Often kicked and beaten simply because someone was having a bad day. After awhile you would grow tired and want out. So yeah, mercy killing." All the body parts were in the tub and the cases brought in. Fiá gestured Maraté to open the window. "I need some help, I seem to have only one arm. One drop of this will eat you alive." "I'll help." Qui-Gon offered, and began to poor the first jug of light yellow fluid over the bodies. "Great, you two get dressed and pack, we will have less then ten minutes to get out of here." She watched them leave. "Qui-Gon, go get the packets I told you about, there are other things in it, I'll finish here." "Now you call me by my name." He smiled, "But I sense you have other plans. So no, from now on we stay together. We'll get your things, and then come back to add the liquefier, they can wait, they're quite dead." He reached out his hand. "Come we only have a few moments." Master Qui-Gon gazed out the window of the office of Master Councilman Mace Windu, who was looking over the report. "Yes, I must agree. Not one death on this list did the governments investigate. All deaths by natural causes or accidents, no foul play." The dark skinned man looked up at Qui-Gon. "Did you have her…scanned?" He asked reluctantly. Qui-Gon bowed his head and nodded, "Yes, she told us everything." He whispered then sighed. "She admits to all these crimes, and yet no one admits to the deaths as crimes, therefore no crimes, no incarceration." "You are disturbed by this." Mace turned to face his long time friend. "What are you feeling?" "Confused." Qui-Gon laughed nervously. "I feel for her, she did all these horrible things yet I feel for her." "You mean…love her?" Mace questioned. "No, not like that, more like…she's a small lost child, she did everything she was told, then found out it was bad, and…" Qui-Gon flopped onto the couch and laid there looking up at the ceiling. "Mace, I don't know, and that bothers me." Mace chuckled, "Well then join the crowd, her honesty and willingness to tell everything has us just as confused. Not one court can convicted her. But, Tashare is calling for her extradition, and we can't hold her here much longer." Qui-Gon sat up and leaped off the couch. "No, Mace! He'll recycle her. I won't let that happen." "Good then you'll find a wild card." Mace smiled he knew that Qui-Gon just needed a reason to work outside the rules to get something's done. "But tell me, how is… the slave girl…" He look on the viewer for her name. "Maraté. She's doing well, Obi-Wan has worked hard to get her settled, she's still staying with us. And Master Healer Motá has her working." Qui-Gon felt that at least one half of that trip was working out. "Good, but why Motá? She's a little bit difficult to work with." Mace was uneasy about the strictness of the Master Healer. "Just what the girl needs, and Motá has an open mind, willing to learn and teach, they're both happy." Qui-Gon's face lit up. "Mace, we hire out side teachers, why can't Fiá teach here at the Academy? She knows all about assassination and foul play, she could teach us what to look for." "Good idea, but would she? We still have to return her first and she would have to come to us then. Qui-Gon go see Master Oadbacas, He knows about these types of messes." Windu sat back thoughtfully. "Qui-Gon I can't see any way out of your plight." The eight-foot blue skin, white-eyed two hundred and fifty-year-old man remarked as he looked over the information. "This Tashare Enterprise, what ever it really is, has everything so tight, the only way to keep her from them is if she died, and then they still want a body." His white fangs glistened in the office light as he smiled. "Well my young Jedi Master," he stood and towered over Qui-Gon, "I think you have a problem." The massive hand reached around the shorter man as they strolled out of the office and down the hall. "The council used to call me a maverick, a wild card, long before you were born, even when I sat on the Council." He whispered. They stopped at the railing over looking the Temple gardens. "Qui-Gon, she has no choice, and neither do you. Her only way out is death, and that will come as soon as she steps foot on Tashare." "Oadbacas, I can't let that happen, and I don't know why. It's the law and she's an assassin and I can't find a reason to help her, but I just can't let it happen." Qui-Gon leaned over the rails of the six stories over hang. "See the blue Orb fruit tree over there." A long blue finger stretched out pass Qui-Gon. "Years ago, maybe before you came to us, that tree died on it's way here from my home world, the gardeners wrote it off as lost space. I cared for it, worked very hard, and it lived. Then I planted it right in the middle of the garden. No one could say a word, they wrote it off, I didn't exist any more, yet we see it, and young Jedi sit under it. I can't spell it out any more then that." He smiled and started back. "Let me know what's happening, and I'll do my best to help, Oh and one other thing, the mark on your head has been dealt with. If Tashare Enterprises wishes to remain in business they will stay away from the Jedi." Again he smiled, then walked away. Qui-Gon went over the words the Master had said, "Oh yes!" Qui-Gon whispered. "Fiá, once Father thinks your dead he can't touch you." Qui-Gon paced the small cell. Fiá sat with her knees tucked under her chin, her good arm wrapped around them, and the other arm still restrained and useless. "And once he finds out, he'll come after both of us. I can't let you do it. I'll go back in the morning as planned. Tell Maraté good bye for me, I can't see her anymore." She turned her head to the wall; tears fell down her face. Qui-Gon sighed, "How could he have seen you as an assassin, you care too much, and now I want to help you and you fear for me." He sat next to her, reaching over to her and dried her tears with his sleeve. "If I can come up with away by morning will you at least try?" He lifted her chin to look into her face. "Whatever… I'll do what you think is best, but I won't ever forgive myself, or you, if you get yourself killed because of me." She sighed feeling trapped and yet happy that some one could care about an AP. Qui-Gon held her tight he felt her cringe and try to pull way, but he knew she needed to feel the touch and caring others could give. "Obi-Wan this is not fair, she's leaving and I'll never get to see her again, you can't do this to me." Maraté struggled in his arms. "Please, I know it's hard but she doesn't want the hurt, she wants to remember you as being happy, when she saw you last. In the infirmary, doing what you talked about." Obi-Wan was having a hard time keeping his promise to his Master. "Wait, come with me," He guided Maraté down the hall and into the elevator. "If we're caught, I'm in big poodo." He smiled his impish grin. He looked down at the boot's Fiá had bought for him, the best fit he had ever had, and he never had a chance to thank her. "Damn!" he muttered as the door hissed open. "Come this way." The two ran down the hall. At the end of the hall was a long glass window looking out over the tarmac. A single ship rested on the dark gray platform. "She will come from over there." He pointed at two doors on the far left. A few crewmen were working on the craft, and then the doors opened. Master Qui-Gon and Master Oadbacas stepped out with Fiá. Her hands were bound with cords to a ring around her neck, she wore a blue gray jumpsuit, and a mechanical device for her arm. Maraté placed her hands on the glass, "Oh Fiá, my friend, why?" She cried, tears raced down her cheeks. Obi-Wan was beginning to regret bringing her here. He reached around her, "Qui-Gon did his best, we all did." He held her as they watched Fiá walk onto the ship that would take her back to Father to be recycled. Once the ship took off the two Jedi Masters reentered the building. "See you I do not, this place for Jedi only. Know that you do Padawan Kenobi. View of good bye's understood, now go, before seen." Master Yoda was watching the ship climb into the Coruscant traffic ways. "Thank you, Master Yoda" Obi-Wan bowed and the two hurried off. Soon a small shuttle landed and Master Qui-Gon ran out and climbed aboard, it took off and headed into lowed traffic. Master Yoda smiled. "My the Force be with you, my Padawan." A few hours passed, Obi-Wan wandered into the infirmary. A tall greenish woman with yellow green hair and golden eyes called out to him. "Obi-Wan, you look like you just stubbed your toe, what's wrong son?" Her long reach and extra warm touch pulled him from his gloom. He looked up at her. "Master Motá, I need to see Maraté," tears filled his eyes. He sat in the Master Healer's office waiting, and going over and over what he was going to say. The door opened and Maraté walked in, "Obi-Wan, Please, I fear…" He leaped from his seat and held her, "Her ship, it…it's gone she's dead." He had to hold on tighter as Maraté's knees gave out. "NO! It can't be, they're wrong, they just lost it, that's all, I know she not…" Slowly the two rested on the floor. Morning came and Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon return home, he slid out of bed not waking Maraté. "Master, where have you been, and have you heard?" "Heard what?" Qui-Gon looked at the young man. "Fiá's ship exploded as it went into hyperspace." Obi-Wan watched his Masters face, no emotions, no tears, and no movement at all. "Yes I've heard, Obi-Wan we did our best, and even more, but sometimes we will fail, you must learn that, and sometimes we win, but time will tell." The tall Master entered his room and door shut behind him. Obi-Wan waited: nothing. After an hour passed Qui-Gon stepped out, he was combing his wet hair. Maraté and Obi-Wan sat at the table eating breakfast. "My dear, I feel for your loss." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Father had his own plans, and now the Council and the Senate have their plans, we must wait." Qui-Gon reached over and grabbed some sweet bread. "We must go on, Obi-Wan you need to take my classes today, I'm meeting with the Council and some advisers. Maraté I've spoken with Motá, she has need of you." Qui-Gon walked out of the small apartment. "Oh Man, I hate these classes, basic diplomacy and politics." Obi-Wan complained. "Tell them Fiá's joke, about "Poly-ticks." She giggled. Over the next few months Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan traveled to Tashare on many occasions, they shut down all AP labs and many other illegal operations. The man known as "Father" was sentenced to life on the penal colony on Paxarien. There he ran into old enemies and the authorities are still looking for his head. The surviving APs are being given Rehab and new training. Some of the smaller ones have been tested and are in Jedi training. "All living cells have Medi-Cloreins." Master Windu told the Senate. "These children are living beings, and have the same rights as we all do, just because they were born in tubes, doesn't make them any different." Maraté and Obi-Wan came home after the Senate hearing. The shower was running and the smell of cooking came from the kitchen. "Master never leaves the kitchen unattended." Obi-Wan turned off the simmering pot. "That reminds me of Fiá's stew." Maraté inhaled the memories. "So did the Senate buy it?" The voice of Qui-Gon changed the moment. He appeared happy and relieved, better then he had in months. He had a sack of fresh bread and Slaovien tea wine, very expensive, but the shower was still running. No, it just turned off. "Ah, yeah they did, Master whose in the shower?" Obi-Wan asked. Qui-Gon handed him the bags and slowly walked into his room. In moments came giggling and whispers. "Oh, no one. The showers quiet empty." Qui-Gon called out and then more giggling, female giggling. Obi-Wan looked at Maraté, whose face lit up. "It's Fiá," She whispered. "It must be," The two crept around to the Master's room. "Come in if you must." Qui-Gon's voice spoke from within. They went in, and saw, wrapped in a towel, Fiá. "Fiá, I knew you weren't dead! I knew it!" Maraté yelled out and flung her arms around Fiá, and for the first time, Fiá hugged back. "Master this I must know." Obi-Wan sat on the bed. Qui-Gon sat next to him. "After her ship left here, I intervened and removed her, it was a droid ship, so it was rigged to blow once it hit hyperspace. Father was blamed, and action was taken to bring him down." "Qui-Gon hide me on the far side of Coruscant." Fiá began as she sat in the Masters lap, "I had my shoulder replaced, and he oversaw some of my rehab. Now I'll be teaching here, Politics and Assassination investigations." Qui-Gon kissed her neck, this made Obi-Wan a little uncomfortable. "Obi-Wan, we're Jedi, not priests." DISCLAIMER:Star Wars, related characters and places are copyright Lucasfilm and other respective and rightful owners. I'm just borrowing them for a little bit.