CHAPTER 21

Kila stumbled along the hallways, humming slightly off key and digging in her pockets for her key – to no avail. "Ahh, Sithspit," she cursed. Then brightened as she realized that she was currently outside Qui-Gon's apartment. It would be much easier to seduce him if they were in the same room, right?

She searched her pockets again – this time for the key to her betrothed's apartment. "Oh, phoo!" she exclaimed when that search came up empty also. She giggled then leaned on Qui-Gon's doorbell, humming a rather risqué song the jizz wailer had performed that night.

The door opened and Qui-Gon's powerful frame filled the doorway.

"Take me; I'm yours!" she warbled off-key, slinging an arm around the man's neck and planting a kiss on his lips.

"Are you drunk?" Qui-Gon asked, pulling her into the apartment quickly and shutting the door.

"No!" Kila laughed her scorn of that notion then crooked her finger to him. "I'm lyin'," she confessed. "I am so drunk right now." She gazed up at him. "You are so sexy – but I like you better without your shirt." She began unbuttoning said shirt, humming her approval as several inches of chest were bared.

Qui-Gon grasped her hands and shook his head, a small smile on those … very nice lips. "You need to go to bed," he said.

"Oh, yeah," Kila replied enthusiastically and tugged at Qui-Gon's hands. "Well, I'm not goin' alone," she pouted when he didn't move. "I been thinkin' about it – and drinkin'." That struck her as comical and she giggled. "Thinkin' and drinkin' … drinkin' and thinkin' …" She shook her head, disoriented. "Anyway; what was I sayin'?"

"You were saying that you need to go to sleep," Qui-Gon told her.

"Mmm." Kila yawned then frowned. Something was missing from what he'd just said, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her stomach rolled and she groaned. "Uhh … I think I'm going to be sick," she told her betrothed.

With a speed one didn't often see in 70 year old humans, Qui-Gon ushered her into the fresher, and then held her gently as she retched into the basin.

"Uh," she gasped, leaning back into Qui-Gon's warm embrace. "I think I brought up a lung there."

She distinctly felt his quiet chuckle before his soft lips caressed her neck. "Lovely image there – thank you for sharing," he said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Kila got out as her stomach churned once more. "Oh, khest," she groaned, her head dropping once more to the basin.

As she brought up what felt like every meal she'd ever had, she was aware of Qui-Gon holding her hair back, stroking her neck with a cold damp cloth. "Now, that's love," she muttered, running some cool water and splashing her face and neck with it.

"Better?" Qui-Gon brushed his knuckles over her flushed cheeks.

"Uh … not sure yet," Kila said. She made a few slow steps – her stomach churned, but she no longer felt so nauseated; just empty. Still drunk, but a little more clear-headed, she patted Qui-Gon's cheek. "I've lost my keys," she told him. "Have you got the spare I gave you?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said, "but I'd rather you stayed here tonight – just in case."

"I'm all right," Kila protested, her wobbling gait making her a liar.

"You've had so much blinis that if I were to strike a light, I'd set you on fire," Qui-Gon said. "I'd feel better if you stayed where I can keep an eye on you."

Kila looked up at his sweet face, those steady blue eyes and sighed. "Very well," she conceded. It wasn't like she wanted to go home anyway. She put her hand to her aching stomach, glad that she'd allowed that bartender to feed her – it would have been so much worse on an empty stomach.

She made her way rather unsteadily to the kitchen and got herself a glass of tepid water. She drank it slowly, trying to get rid of the nasty acidic aftertaste in her mouth. Then she yawned again, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "I'm going to go to bed," she told her lover.

"All right," Qui-Gon said slowly.

"It'd be easier for you to keep an eye on me if we're in the same room," Kila said, watching his handsome face.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said.

She grinned at his visible relief. "You know; you wouldn't be taking advantage of me if we made love," she told him. "Don't worry, though – I'm not up to it."

Qui-Gon smiled at her then brushed a kiss over her forehead. "Don't sleep in your clothes," he told her. "You're going to feel bad enough as it is tomorrow morning."

"Uh … don't remind me," Kila groaned, already feeling the headache coming on. She brushed a kiss on his cheek. "I'll … go get changed," she said and made her way to his bedroom.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

Qui-Gon smiled as his lover stumbled slightly on her way to his bedroom, still clutching on to her glass of water. Although intoxication was never a good way to handle one's problems, she was such an endearingly muddled mess right now.

He shook his head and yawned. He'd been sleeping when Kila had erupted into his apartment – it was time to head back to bed.

He walked into his bedroom and stopped short. Draped diagonally across his bed was his betrothed, out cold. She'd managed to get her pants off, but was still wearing her shirt and … one shoe. She was snoring slightly and mumbling to herself.

He chuckled and shook his head once more. There was evidently something wrong with him because he found her incredibly cute right now. He put his hand to her shoulder and shook it. "Kila."

She twitched and frowned but didn't move.

Qui-Gon sighed and put his arms around her, intent on moving her to one side. The woman sighed and stretched, pushing her breasts into his chest. Then her eyes opened and she smiled lazily at him. "You wanna press your lumps against mine?" she asked him in Huttese, her hands slipping inside his shirt and stroking the lean muscles of his chest. She kicked off her remaining shoe then dipped her head and kissed her way down his throat, to nuzzle into his chest.

She flicked delicately at a nipple with her tongue – his heart pounded and he forced himself to pull away from his suddenly amorous betrothed. "Ah, not tonight," he told her. "You need to rest."

His libido was calling him all sorts of idiot, and evidently Kila felt the same way. "Spoilsport," she groused. She sighed and rolled onto her side, presenting him with a mouth-watering view of her cleavage as the action pushed her full breasts together. "Well … night-night."

And, with that, her eyes closed once more.

To the accompaniment of her light snoring, Qui-Gon got back into bed, careful to keep some distance between him and Kila. The first time that they made love was not going to be when she was drunk!

Kila mumbled something and turned over once more. Now her back was to him and he was presented with the curve of her hip and the rounded swells of her behind. And his entirely male appreciation for her figure warred with the gentleman that wanted their first time together to be special.

Groaning softly, he turned away from temptation and closed his eyes, seeking out the support of the Force.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

Bright light pierced her eyelids and some evil being hammered at the inside of her skull. And her mouth tasted like she hadn't cleaned it in days.

Groaning, Kila cracked open an eyelid then slammed it shut as the morning sun glared through the window.

"Good morning," her betrothed said softly.

"Ahh … mornin'," Kila got out. "What did I drink last night?" she moaned as her head pounded.

"I'm not sure exactly, but I could definitely smell Keruvian blinis on your breath," Qui-Gon told her. She heard his footsteps then the clank of a glass on a serving platter. "When you're ready, I'll get you some crackers for your stomach."

"Thanks," Kila muttered. She winced as the hammering in her skull increased. "Oh, just kill me now."

Somehow she just knew Qui-Gon was fighting the urge to laugh. "Fine; laugh at my misery," she flung at him.

"Like you wouldn't laugh if our positions were reversed?" her betrothed shot back.

"Ugh." Kila flapped a hand at him. He was perfectly correct of course, but she was in no condition for one of their battles of wits. "Go away and leave me to my suffering, you horrible old man."

"Very well." Qui-Gon walked away – she heard the squeak as the door opened then jumped when it shut with a loud bang.

The jump made her stomach roll and she nearly fell out of the bed in her eagerness to reach the fresher. She fell to her knees in front of the bath and retched helplessly, bringing up little but foul-tasting stomach acid.

Qui-Gon appeared beside her and offered her a cold wet cloth into which she buried her face gladly. "Better?" he asked mildly.

Kila glared up into his dancing blue eyes. "If I ever get off this floor …," she promised, "… look out."

Qui-Gon grinned down at her, dimples on full – it was almost worth feeling this bad to be on the receiving end of that impish grin. "So … are you going to sit here all day or do you think you could manage a cup of karran tea?" he asked.

The karran herb contained a natural anti-nausea property and was therefore very popular with pregnant women and people suffering from hangovers. Kila paused and considered. "I can try," she said. She rolled over and got onto her feet with all the grace of a newborn bantha cub. "A little help here?" she asked as her legs wobbled.

Qui-Gon swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the fresher.

"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," she pointed out, trying to ignore the tempting length of throat so near her lips right now.

Qui-Gon chuckled. "Purely in the interest of saving time of course," he said blandly.

"Of course," Kila shot back sarcastically. She allowed him to settle her on the settee then watched him walk away into the kitchen, giving her a lovely view of his rear end. Sigh.

Hmm; she had to be feeling better if she was able to admire Qui-Gon's firm rear end once more.

"Kila?"

She jumped out of her behind-induced reverie and looked up at her betrothed as he held out a mug filled with some steaming liquid to her. "Thank you," she murmured then reared away when the smell hit her nostrils. "Ohhh … what're you giving to me?" she squealed, appalled.

"It tastes better than it smells," Qui-Gon told her.

"It would have to," Kila murmured in revulsion. She pinched her nose shut, stared at the foul concoction for several seconds, and then took a large gulp of the stuff before her courage deserted her.

A strange mélange of tastes hit her tongue – spicy, sweet, bitter, dry … yet not unpleasant. "Not bad," she muttered, hesitant to unblock her nose. She had the feeling that deadening her sense of smell had been the primary cause of the just-palatable taste.

It did, however, sooth her rolling stomach. "Kriff; this stuff is good!" she said.

"Well, drink up," Qui-Gon said, setting a small plate of wafer-thin crackers next to her. He looked at his wrist chrono and sighed. "I have to go," he said. "I have a session with Healer Janna and Master Yoda will be expecting you soon."

"What?" Kila spluttered on her tea. "My head feels like it's going to fall off – no way in the galaxy can I train today!"

"I'm not your father, Kila," Qui-Gon said, tying up his bootlace. "If you can't train today then don't. But you should at least do Master Yoda the courtesy of telling him so in person."

"That's right; you're not my father," Kila said, stung at the scolding tone. "So don't treat me like a spoiled brat who's stamping her feet for a new toy."

Qui-Gon sighed. "I have to go," he said. "I refuse to stand here and argue with you over something so inconsequential." And with that he was gone.

Kila sighed and sipped the noxious brew. What in the Sith hells had just happened there? One minute, he'd been teasing her about her hangover, the next he was acting like a disapproving parent.

Then she realized what he'd said before the bit about Yoda. Today's session was likely to be hard on him after yesterday's confession. And she'd been so caught up in her own, self-inflicted, misery that she hadn't even remembered!

She stood up, hangover pushed to one side, and whipped off her clothes before heading into the fresher for a very fast sonic. She struggled back into her clothes, brushed her teeth, and dragged her hair back into an untidy bun.

Less than ten minutes after Qui-Gon had left, she jogged out of his apartment, intent on reaching him before he got to Janna's. He didn't deserve to have that stupid petty quarrel hanging over him when dealing with his trauma.

She spied his distinctive silver hair just as he was about to go into the Healer's office. "Qui-Gon!"

He turned and raised his eyebrows at her unruly state. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry," Kila blurted out. "I was behaving like a brat and … I should have been more considerate." She went over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and then kissed his cheek. "Are we all right?" she added, tilting her head backward to look into his eyes.

Qui-Gon smiled down at her. "We're more than all right," he told her. "I said that I would have good days and bad days – I'm sorry I took it out on you." He dipped his handsome head and caressed her lips sweetly with his. "I do love you – even when you're hung over and vomiting up all your internal organs." His eyes twinkled.

Kila had to laugh at that. "Funny man," she retorted, returning the sweet kiss. "Well," she sighed, "I'd better go and speak with Yoda. Do you … want me to come back here?"

Qui-Gon sighed. "I'd … rather you didn't," he said, sounding uncomfortable. "Sorry."

"Don't worry," Kila said, not liking the vulnerability her big Jedi was currently showing. "I told you that I'm here for you. And I meant it … despite the less than stellar attempt I made yesterday."

"You received two shocking pieces of news in a very short space of time," Qui-Gon said, taking his turn to be the comforter. "You wouldn't have been human if you hadn't reacted."

Kila chuckled. "Quite a pair we make," she said. "How about this? We stop apologizing for being human, but we also try harder not to shut each other out."

Qui-Gon slipped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "That sounds good to me," he said. Then he let go of her. "Now, go and clean up … you look like something that's been in a sarlacc pit for a generation!"

"Remind me why I love you so much?" Kila grumbled, glaring at her betrothed.

"Because you're a sweet, wonderful woman who likes old worn out Jedi," Qui-Gon deadpanned.

Kila clicked her fingers. "That's why!" she chuckled then stretched up to catch his lips with hers one more time. "And now I'm really going," she added, grinning as she saw Healer Janna appear, all four arms folded as she waited for Qui-Gon.

"All right." Qui-Gon tucked some strands of hair behind Kila's ear. "Be good."

"Aren't I always?" Kila said to his broad back. He stilled and she could almost feel him ache to answer that parting shot. She chuckled and made her way down the corridor.

FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE-FORCE

Half an hour later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Kila made her way out of her own apartment and along the network of corridors interlinking the many buildings that formed the Jedi complex.

She entered the main training salle and saw Yoda spinning and leaping through the air, practicing his lightsaber technique against training remotes. "Good morning, Master," she said.

"Greet you I do, young Kila," the little Jedi said, not even looking out of breath as the many remotes tried – and failed – to attack him. "A training saber get you and practice your movements you will."

Kila sighed. "I only came to tell you that I can't train today – I don't feel up to it."

Yoda pressed a button and the remotes lowered to the floor. "Unwell you are?"

Kila shrugged her shoulders. "It's … self-inflicted but yes," she said. Part of her wanted to confide in her littlest friend about her relationship to Tyranus, but the bigger part of her feared that he wouldn't wish to teach her any longer – might in fact seek her expulsion from the Order.

"Hmpf." Yoda hobbled over to her and looked up at her intently. "To talk do you wish?"

"No," Kila said. She didn't want to talk about the Sith or about what had happened to Qui-Gon thanks to that Sith. "Maybe … another time," she suggested, regretting her brusque dismissal. "I'm not ready yet."

Yoda tapped her leg with his gimer stick. "Confused, angry and ashamed you are," he said. "Much good meditation will do you. Join me you will?"

"Oh! Aah …" Kila fidgeted uncertainly. She hadn't meditated for days now, fearful that Tyranus – she refused to think of that Sith thing as her father – might be able to reach her. Then she looked down at the tiny Master. He was one of the most powerful Force users in the written history of the Jedi – surely Tyranus wouldn't try anything with Yoda beside her! "All right," she acquiesced.

Yoda patted her leg again. "Good," he said. He hobbled over to his hover chair. "Come. To the gardens we will go – quiet, beautiful and soothing they are."

Kila followed her little Master obediently then flung her hand over her eyes when the bright sunshine greeted her. "Ow …," she moaned.

Yoda chortled then got out of his hover chair and sat on the grass under a tree. He crossed his tiny legs then patted the ground near him. "Sit here you will," he instructed her.

Kila sat down and crossed her legs – she felt them cramp up almost immediately and opted to stretch out instead. She closed her eyes and allowed Yoda's voice to lull her into a proper meditative state.

She found herself in a gray … nothingness. And even gray wasn't the right word to describe the lack of everything. She could see nothing, hear nothing … could feel nothing but the thumping of her own heart.

She panicked at such … nothingness and flailed wildly, trying to find something – anything – to hold onto her.

"Be calm, at ease," she heard Yoda say. "Unusual this Force experience is not, but unprepared for it you are. Happens this experience usually does to more experienced Padawans."

He sounded rather worried, Kila realized. "So … what do I do?"

"In the gray you walk, literally," Yoda explained. "A battle between the Light and the Dark you face. Strong you must be to resist the lure of the Dark."

"I want to," Kila said, wondering if Tyranus was laughing somewhere right now. "Is the Dark Side so much stronger?"

"No," Yoda said, "but easier, more seductive it is. Make the choice only you can, but guide you, help you and protect you we can. Let us, you will?"

Kila saw a small light and reached her hand out to touch it. It bobbed away and she growled in frustration. She reached her hand out once more – the light bobbed away once more. Then she sighed. "I do need help," she admitted.

Suddenly the small light expanded all round her, filling her with a peace she hadn't known since before Qui-Gon's disappearance so many weeks ago.

She opened her eyes and found Yoda sitting in her lap, holding her hand in both his tiny ones. "Not yet won, the battle is," he said. "But strong you are – trust in yourself you must that follow your father you will continue to refuse."

Kila gaped at the little Jedi. "How … how did you know?" she croaked out.

"Came to me did Obi-Wan many weeks ago," said Yoda. "Concerned he was about the darkness in you. When meditation you and I shared, contact with Tyranus I made. Suspected I did his connection to you, but uncertain I was until last night. Revealed to me by the Force the truth was."

"Oh." Kila sucked in her bottom lip. "So … what happens now? Will I have to … leave?"

"Your father you are not." Yoda squeezed her hand. "Punish the child for the sins of the father we would not. But our help you will need until stronger you are in the Force. Anger, fear … make you vulnerable they do. To let go you must learn."

"Easier said than done," Kila mumbled. After what that Sith had done to Qui-Gon …

"Easy it is not," Yoda said. "Faith in you I have – faith you will come to share."

Kila felt stupid tears spring to her eyes, and wrapped her other hand gently around Yoda's tiny hands. "I … don't know what to say," she said. "Thank you is poor and inadequate, but …"

"Then nothing you shall say," Yoda said, releasing her hands and hopping off her lap. "Study hard you will – become a Healer you shall. Faith!" He whacked her knee with his gimer stick for emphasis. "Faith you must have."