Chapter 3

Stepping off the ship was like walking into a preheated oven. The heat was like a wall, and it made their steps slow as they approached the waiting group. Three people who seemed human or at least humanoid stood there with beige scarfs around their heads and goggles covering their eyes. Their beige clothes looked light and loose. Adapted for the dessert no doubt. Blasters hung low at their hips, but they didn't seem to be wearing protective armour. That made Qui-Gon hope they hadn't come to fight. The additional horses they had with them also seemed to indicate they were there to pick them up.

"Estima," they greeted.

Anakin followed Qui-Gon to the group with the protocol droid and the clones close behind him. By the way the Beimeni stood straighter and looked at each other with their hands on their blasters, they clearly hadn't been expecting to meet soldiers.

"Kakiye totoru pjanje, Jedi?" One of them asked.

"What's your business here, Jedi?" The droid translated diligently.

"We come in peace. I assure you. We wish to speak with the King on behalf of the Republic." Qui-Gon watched the Beimeni relax slightly as the droid translated but their hands remained on their hips.

"Then your soldiers must remain here. We can bring supplies," the droid translated back.

"Master, I don't think that's wise."

"I don't think we have a choice. Besides, I don't think they're complaining. The ship has a cooling system." Qui-Gon shot the clones a half smile. He felt sorry for them in all that armour.

Qui-Gon nodded towards the Beimeni and the clones retreated back onto the ship.

"Call us, if you need assistance," Rex said before following his troops.

The Beimeni seemed pleased with this and finally let go of their blasters and instead placed their palms together in front of them.

"The King is expecting you. You are invited to the palace as guests. We would also recommend you leave your droid here."

"We need him to translate."

"The King has a translator."

"We would prefer our own," Qui-Gon emphasised, he knew the droid wouldn't be able to bring that across, but he hoped the Beimeni could tell anyway.

They murmured amongst each other and then spoke to the droid.

"The King dislikes droids. Besides, he will melt before we get there. Oh my." The droid fidgeted nervously. Qui-Gon had to admit that he was taking more time to translate the longer they stood out in the sun. Qui-Gon could feel the heat burning his skin and could imagine what it was doing to the droid's circuits.

"Alright, we agree to the King's terms."

After translating the last sentence, the droid made its way back onto the ship painfully slowly.

"Just us now, Master." Anakin sounded on edge. Qui-Gon almost commented that that was how they worked best, but he let it be.

They both slung their rucksacks over their shoulders before mounting the horses offered to them. Qui-Gon could already feel the sweat dripping down his back under the rucksack. Even the wind was warm as they rode, making the situation no less uncomfortable. It was strange seeing the green city sticking out of the sand with nothing but beige behind them. It was a stark contrast. Huge trees reached for the sky before them whilst green plants with thick leaves covered the ground.

They followed one of the Beimeni down the sandstone streets of the city whilst the other two rode behind them. Everywhere you looked, it was green. The houses between the trees left and right were nothing like the houses on Tatooine. They were elegant, square buildings with large windows in high arches pointing north and intricate patterns on the walls. The people of Beimeni - or at least the ones in this city - seemed to live in more luxury than Qui-Gon had expected.

Up ahead, towering over the city, was the palace. It was square like the other houses, with balconies and arched windows all the way around. Sticking out of the middle of the building, Qui-Gon could see a tall tower with a golden clock face on each of the four sides. It was divided into 14 hours and the minutes seemed to be running on a different circle. One black hand remained stationary on the 10th hour that the hour hand was slowly moving towards. Qui-Gon looked back at the setting sun and wondered if that was what it was indicating.

By the time they reached the palace Qui-Gon was soaked through, and he figured Anakin was too. This certainly wasn't how he was planning on greeting the King.

They dismounted and two servants led the horses away. Qui-Gon watched them and then he caught sight of something that froze him in place.

A ginger boy hopped up the stairs of a side entrance to the palace. He was gone in the blink of an eye and Qui-Gon thought he had imagined it. The people of Beimeni had dark caramel skin and sun-bleached hair. They weren't ginger.

Obi-Wan, his mind whispered but he knew it couldn't be him. He saw Obi-Wan in every ginger person he saw, every child he used to look at twice, but Obi-Wan was dead.

..oOo..

Qui-Gon went through his usual morning routine of getting up, drinking tea and meditation before he left to go about his day. He had planned on spending the day in the archives preparing for the mission he would be going on in a few weeks' time. Then he was going to meet up with Thal and hope she had something interesting to do. Instead, he found himself walking towards the conference room. He hadn't even thought about it in a week, so what was bringing him there now?

He placed his palm against the control panel and the door slid open. For a moment he thought he was alone and then he noticed Yoda sitting by the hologram.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Master." He bowed and made to leave.

"Waiting for you, I was."

Qui-Gon stopped and studied the little master. He looked sad and Qui-Gon might even dare to say angry.

"Message you came to watch?"

Qui-Gon folded his hands into his sleeves protectively. Master Yoda's tone had been sharp.

"I don't know what brought me here today."

"Know, I do." He stood up and made his way over to Qui-Gon, handing him a datapad aggressively, but there was a sadness in his eyes too. "Watch the message, then read the report, you should."

Qui-Gon was left alone, dread filling him even before he turned the hologram on, revealing the image of the 13-year-old boy. Qui-Gon had forgotten how young he looked.

"Cerasi is dead," the message started. Qui-Gon couldn't bear to see the grief on Obi-Wan's face. "She was caught in a cross-fire between Elder and Young forces. Now each side blames the other for her death. Even Nield is ready for battle. Wehutti's forces have rearmed. My squad has been disbanded. I have no command, no way to convince the others to disarm," Obi-Wan paused and Qui-Gon could sense his helplessness even through the hologram, "I don't know what to do."

Qui-Gon rested his hands on the holo projector, simply looking into the clear blue face of the child he abandoned in the middle of a war. He wasn't angry anymore, he was ashamed because he knew what was coming next.

"I am no longer a Jedi. Yet I know what a Jedi can do. And I know that only a Jedi can help. Qui-Gon, I realise I have done harm to us. But will you help me now?"

The image flickered and then disappeared, leaving Qui-Gon alone again. Obi-Wan had asked for help. Qui-Gon was about to send a reply when his eyes fell on the datapad Yoda had given him. Obi-Wan's message had been sent weeks ago. The datapad was bound to hold the consequences of his actions. He picked the device up and slid down the wall into a sitting position as he turned it on.

The report on Melida/Daan was hard to read. How could a planet tear itself apart like this? The further he read, the worse it got until he reached the final entry. Qui-Gon had to read it twice, but the words wouldn't sink in.

"The final battle of Melida/Daan ended in the bombing of the capital city Zehava. No survivors."

No survivors.

..oOo..

Anakin stood out on the balcony of the room they had been given in the palace. From there he could see the people setting up lanterns and arranging tables to sell various goods. Sounds of music and laughter spilled up from the city. Beimeni seemed to have a form of nightlife going on.

Now that the sun had set, standing outside had become bearable. They had both received a change in clothes and plenty of fresh water to drink and wash with. Everything they had read and heard about Beimeni had suggested the people would be hostile and yet here they were. Anakin took a deep breath. He hadn't felt this good in a while. It was like he could stand out here and forget the war for a while.

When he closed his eyes, he saw Padmé smiling at him, and he smiled back. He wanted to be with her more than anything. But he knew he couldn't. He was the Chosen One. Whatever that meant. He couldn't let Qui-Gon down. Sometimes he wished he could though, he wished he could be with his wife on Naboo and the Force could pick a new Chosen One.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon appeared by the young knight's side, "how's the translator coming along?"

"They were right about the killer heat. When I opened it up, the wires were a molten mess. I'll have to head back to the ship tomorrow and get some spare parts."

Qui-Gon nodded his understanding. "I'm sure the King has a good translator, but I'd like to understand the things he doesn't want us hearing as well."

Anakin still wasn't sure what was making Qui-Gon so distrustful of this place, but he decided it would be wise to listen to the old man's concerns.

"I should have it running tomorrow. For tonight we'll have to hope this translator is as good as promised."